#i have to redo field of vision too...

[ilhoonftw]

i have to get boobs ultrasound every year bc of family history and yesterday i had such weird experience... it wasn't unpleasant but i felt like the checkup was lacking and i need to do it again. which sucks whoever it happens bc every damn checkup is pain in the ass and esp those you have to prep for

[mydearzero]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 | 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: What once was an innocent crush on a coworker quickly turned into a full blown infatuation with your boss. She could reprimand you all she wanted, but did she have to wear red while doing so?

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, unit chief!Emily, SMUT, coworkers, very slight dom/sub undertones, office sex, oral sex, grinding, fingering, power imbalance (boss), canon compliant violence, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2.8K words

it's here folks, enjoy. let's just ignore that everything about emily screams woman lover to build tension okay. this was the quickest 2.8K I've written in a long time so uh yeah do with that info what you will (I'm horny for Emily) - nik

You hadn't had the opportunity to work with Emily Prentiss before she left the team to work for Interpol. You'd only just missed each other, you joining mere weeks after she'd left. 

Her reputation preceded her. The team was overly fond of her, even after having faked her own death. You'd seen a picture here or there, but nothing could live up to the Emily Prentiss who met you in New York for the Copycat Killer case. 

She'd been in a relationship with some guy Mark, so you'd really tried to look the other way. But when Hotch went on temporary leave during the whole Scratch situation, she volunteered to rejoin. The day she stepped foot in the bullpen, you knew you were in trouble. 

You could ignore the heat rushing to your face and your hands getting clammy. You could ignore the knowing glances JJ gave you. You could even ignore the digs Luke sent your way once he'd figured out something was going on. What you couldn't ignore, however, was the story Emily was telling while having had one too many drinks. 

"-and my girlfriend at the time freaked out. I tried to tell her it was a fake, but she was already halfway to crying in my arms." 

The words repeated over and over again in your head. 

Girlfriend. 

Her. 

She. 

You could handle an unattainable crush. Hell. Who hadn't had a crush on a straight girl at least once in their life? But knowing Emily played for both teams changed things. It made your irrational feelings rational. You completely lost the ability to look her in the eyes after that. 

You tried to not let your feelings get in the way of your job. The work the BAU did was too important to let that happen. 

It didn't last long. 

An adrenaline rush got the better of you while attempting to talk down an UnSub. But what were you supposed to do? He'd held a gun to Emily's head. One wrong move and it would've been over. You couldn't take that chance. 

Your ears were ringing as tunnel vision took over. The grimy scenery of the warehouse faded into the background. The dripping of the leaking pipes was deafened by your heartbeat. The UnSub's words were drowned out by Emily's haggard breathing. She was scared. 

You did what you had to. You took the shot. The man had dropped to the floor, but not before firing a storm of bullets in your direction, only missing by a few inches. 

While you'd been lucky nobody had been hurt, the same couldn't be said about the team's reactions to your actions. The flight back to Quantico had been short but tense. You wouldn't be hearing the end of this for quite some time to come. 

Though you knew the team would be on edge around you for some time, you hadn't expected what would happen on the very next case. 

"You're off the case." Emily's words were blunt. 

"What? Why?" You questioned. You'd expected to have to take a psych evaluation. Maybe even redo your gun qualifications. But to be put on the bench? Especially on a local case? 

"We've profiled this UnSub as highly unpredictable. I can't have you take uncalculated risks in the field. I appreciate all the work you've done so far, but this is where I need you to step back." Emily looked apologetic. 

"The last case was different! I can stay back here with Penelope. Just let me help, Emily, please," you pleaded. Damn your inability to be mad at her. You couldn't, not when she wore that damn red top that complimented her complexion (and boobs) so well. 

"I'm sorry. We'll talk when we get back." 

Penelope wouldn't let you into her office, so you resorted to catching up on paperwork at your desk. You could've left and taken this as a sign to get some free time. Yet you stayed right there, waiting. 

When Penelope finally left her office with her stuff, ready to go home, you knew the case was over. She asked you to late dinner, but you declined, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. She waved a short goodbye before stepping into the elevator, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. 

It wasn't long before the elevator moved again, doors opening to reveal Emily Prentiss. Just Emily Prentiss. You frowned as she walked into the bullpen, nodding at her office, signalling you to follow her. 

"Where's the rest?" You wondered, walking through the door and taking a seat across from the desk. Emily shut the door and turned to close the shutters. 

"I sent them home. We'll debrief in the morning," was all she said. 

She gestured to the chair across from hers. You sat, unsure of what to expect next. 

"I think we need to talk about what happened in New York," Emily left it an open statement. She obviously expected you to do the talking. 

"I'm aware my actions didn't look thought through. And maybe they weren't. But I was worried about what he would do to you," you were honest about what had gone down. 

"Worried or not, there are protocols we need to follow. You put everybody in that room in danger by making that choice. How is that any better than having me potentially get shot?" 

You really tried to focus. It was a serious and consequential discussion. But it was at that moment you realized you'd never actually been alone with Emily. You rubbed your hands on your thighs, trying to rid them of their clammyness and the tension that built in your body. 

"I don't know," was your final reply. A weak one, at that. Emily searched your face for answers. She noted the sheen covering your skin and dilated pupils. You felt scrutinized under her gaze. She squinted, slowly leaning back and crossing her arms. 

You hadn't meant to look, but the action brought the red top back to your attention. Your eyes dropped to Emily's cleavage, if only for a second. Your mouth went dry as they quickly snapped back up to meet her now amused ones. A coy smile crept onto her face. Emily took a deep breath before speaking again. This time, you knew better, only looking in your peripheral at how her chest raised and fell. 

"You know, earlier, you mentioned the last case was different. How come?" Emily inquired. She'd caught that, huh? You felt trapped as you figured she'd deduced the real reason for your careless actions.  

You didn't speak as Emily rose from her chair, taking slow strides around the desk. She placed a hand on your shoulder, standing behind you and leaning over the other. Goosebumps raised on your arms as you felt her warm breath against your collar. 

"I think I know," she whispered in your ear. You unconsciously craned your neck, allowing her more access. Your heart beat rapidly. The hand on your shoulder slowly trailed down your arm, rubbing up and down. 

"Would you have taken the shot if it had been JJ? Or Spencer? Or maybe you would've taken it if it were Garcia. You're such great friends, after all," Emily's tone was taunting. The rising temperature of the room was quickly becoming unbearable. 

Her free hand reached for your chin, turning your head to face her. She cupped your cheek gently, admiring the sight of your desperation. She'd barely even touched you. Barely implied anything. 

"Is this what your strange behaviour lately has been about?" Emily asked. You bit your lip, not saying a word. She clicked her tongue, getting annoyed at your lack of response.  

"Is this not what you want?" She walked around the chair, standing in front of you. You couldn't give in. You wouldn't be able to stop. Not if she gave you a taste. Your hands remained firmly planted by your side as Emily did the unthinkable. She put her hands on your shoulders and draped her legs over yours, straddling you. Your eyes closed at the sensation of having her so close. 

The weight of her ass on your thighs was delectable. Her hands trailed down your arms, stopping when they rested on yours. She leaned forward, and you had to suppress a groan at the feeling of her chest pushing against yours. She took your hands and brought them around herself, planting them firmly on her bottom. Your entire body was on fire. 

"Look at me," Emily's voice was sultry. You opened your eyes tentatively, immediately dropping them to her lips, which were now dangerously close to yours. She didn't hesitate, kissing you roughly. Her hands came up to cup your face. You finally gave in, properly holding her on your lap as she fervidly kissed you. 

You moved your mouth away from hers, kissing down her jaw and sucking harshly at the skin of her neck. A timid moan came from her lips. You'd never heard a more beautiful sound. Her fingers started unbuttoning your blouse as you continued your attack, creating blemishes that contrasted with her pale skin. Once she got the blouse off, Emily's hands fondled your breasts roughly. 

"Shit, Em..." You sighed. You leaned back against the chair, admiring Emily in all her glory. 

"You look so fucking good in red, you don't even know," you groaned, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. 

"I do know," Emily raised her arms, allowing you to pull the shirt over her head. "That's why I wear it." 

"You drive me crazy, Prentiss," you finally admitted. 

"I think I know the feeling," Emily moaned, taking your hand and crudely stuffing it down her pants. Luckily the waistband was elastic, allowing you to feel the dampness of her underwear as you manoeuvred your wrist to cup her pussy. 

"Fuck... You don't know how many times I've imagined feeling your pussy," you confessed. "I've dreamt of the things I'd do to you." 

Emily groaned as you pushed her panties to the side, feeling the wetness against your fingers. The positioning of your hand might've been awkward, but you didn't care. Emily opted to go for another kiss as you started rubbing her clit. 

The soft noises she made while her tongue was in your mouth were otherworldly. Her hips ground against your hand, desperate for more friction. 

Emily hooked her fingers into the cups of your bra, not bothering to unclasp it, simply tugging them down to free your tits. She left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest before taking a nipple between her teeth. 

"Fuck- Emily," you whine. She brought her hand up to your other breast, pinching and biting your nipples in tandem. You retaliated by finally circling your fingers over her entrance, pushing two inside. 

"Oh! Ah- Fuck," Emily exclaimed, throwing her head back. You curled your fingers in the way you did to yourself while thinking of her late at night. Emily reached behind her, placing her hands on the edge of the desk, creating more space for you to do what you had to. 

Emily was becoming less coherent with every pump of your fingers. Your thumb hit her clit harshly with every thrust inside her pussy. Just seeing her come undone like this, on your lap, by your hand, was enough for you to drench your own underwear.

You brought your unoccupied hand to her naked waist, admiring her figure. You couldn't believe you got to see her like this after all this time you spent pining. Her eyes were closed as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. 

"Fuck, don't stop," Emily moaned. Her jaw was slack. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the desk tightened. You felt her walls constrict around your fingers. You curled them in a come hither motion as you circled her clit with your thumb. 

Emily's arms shook as her moans turned into high-pitched whines, signalling she was getting close. 

"Shit! Oh my god," She exclaimed, followed by a loud moan of your name. It was like music to your ears. 

She rode out her high as she gushed around your fingers. Your free hand drew soothing patterns on her hip, working her through her climax. 

You carefully withdrew your hand from her panties, bringing your fingers to your mouth and sucking them clean. Emily let herself fall back forward, no longer having the strength to hold up her upper body with her arms. 

She took your fingers from your mouth, wrapping her lips around them and sucking seductively. She released them and pushed herself off your lap, tugging you up from your seat. She switched your positions, pushing you against the desk before getting on her knees. 

Emily reached for the button on your pants, undoing it and tugging it down. She tapped your ankle, signalling you to step out of them and spread your legs. It was a bit awkward with your shoes still on, but you made it work. Her fingers left a trail of goosebumps in their wind as she traced them up your leg to your inner thigh. 

She followed the path she'd just drawn with her mouth, hooking her teeth in the waistband of your underwear, laughing as she tugged them down. You smiled at her antics. 

Her mouth returned between your legs, licking a hesitant stripe between your folds. The kitten licks to your clit drove you crazy. 

"Fuck, please, Em," you begged, bringing your hands to her hair. You couldn't feel more lewd, tits out in your boss's office, said boss between your legs eating you out. The scandal of it all only turned you on even more. 

"Can't believe you put your whole job on the line-," Emily scoffed between licks. "-just because you wanted some pussy." 

"Not just some pussy," you moaned as she sucked on your clit. "Yours." 

"Such a horny little thing for your unit chief," Emily mumbled. The vibrations of her words added to your pleasure. 

Your grip on her dark locks tightened as she fucked your entrance with her tongue expertly. You had to put all your weight against the desk to stop your knees from buckling.

"F-fuck, Em. Oh my god," you groaned as she added her fingers to the mix. 

You dared to look down, only to be met with the finest sight the world had to offer. Emily gazed up at you through her lashes, dark eyes blown wide and amused. You could see her free hand was between her legs, stroking herself at the same rhythm she had with her mouth on your cunt. 

God, did you wish you had Reid's memory right about now. 

You didn't know how much longer you could last. Having had the pleasure of feeling her around your fingers, witnessing her expression as she came. It was enough to have you teetering on the edge. 

"Ah, fuck. I'm close," you whimpered. Emily moaned loudly, her pace increasing. Your hips bucked against her mouth, chasing the pleasure. Her hands came up to your sides, holding you in place. 

You had to withhold from forcefully pushing her head closer, desperate for more pressure, more friction, more more more. 

You balled your fists, throwing your head back. The knot in your abdomen tightened, threatening to snap any second. 

"Oh- shit, please." 

"Come for me." It was like she'd pressed a magic button, your climax immediately upon you as she spoke the words. 

"Emily!" You came with a loud cry, grinding your hips against her mouth. It was mindblowing. You'd never come that hard. Emily helped you ride out your high, careful to not overstimulate you. 

She rose from her position on the floor, hands never leaving your body as she got back on eye level. You searched her face for regret as both of you stood there, taking in the situation and catching your breath. 

She leaned in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You smiled, kissing her back passionately. She helped you redress your upper body, all while never breaking the kiss. 

You separated to pick up your respective discarded pieces of clothing. The atmosphere was light. There was no unresolved tension as you had expected. A mutual understanding had been created. 

Emily grabbed her stuff and walked with you down to the bullpen. "Dinner tomorrow, my place," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," you agreed, putting your things in your bag. 

"For now, go get your go bag out of your car," she instructed, locking the door to her office. 

"Why?" You asked as you walked with her to the elevator. 

"Because you can return the favour and have an early appetizer in my bed tonight." 

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲

𝟭. quantity over quality ( 🌿 )

if you've landed on this profile, you're probably an academic overachiever, or a control freak, or both. i know the feeling of wanting to do everything perfectly, but we are simply human, and it is not possible to be good at everything right away. your first projects, your first models, will not be excellent, you will end up redoing the same drawings over and over again, but there is no point in wasting time redoing the same axonometry ten times until it is perfect. go ahead, experiment, you will improve visibly. i look at the differences between my works six months later and i am amazed at how much i have improved in such a short time. you will too. don't be afraid to make mistakes, ever.

𝟮. architecture is not study, it is life ( 🪸 )

sure, we go to university, we take exams, but you don't study real architecture at school. your professors can only give you the foundations on which to build your future, the technical standards, advice, laws, but if you really want to know architecture you have to read, learn, explore, in the most disparate fields possible. architecture is not art, not really, architecture is a home, it is life, as such, it must be lived. you will never design something meaningful if you don't know how to live.

𝟯. be humble, you're young ( 🐢 )

you will study architecture for the rest of your life. you'll never stop learning new things about it, and that's awesome. don't rely too much on one person's point of view, no matter how cultured they may be, they will never know every single aspect of architecture, and neither will you. all you have to do is build your vision based on your studies and experiences. you will probably change your mind many times, you will probably fall into wrong beliefs, you will discover new things every day, you will only stop learning when you die.

𝟰. you don't have to be good at drawing ( ✏️ )

it is certainly an added value, but it is not a fundamental thing. you will draw little or nothing freehand, most of the drawings will be purely technical and almost all digital. you don't need to know how to draw on a program like AutoCAD, but i can assure you that you will lose sleep over the floor plans of your projects.

𝟱. prioritize practical projects ( ☕ )

concentrate on the models and drawings you have to turn in, i assure you that they take up much more of your time than they seem. always plan ahead when making a project (an unexpected event can always happen) and NEVER print on the day of the exam.

𝟲. be kind to yourself ( 🪻 )

everyone has their own time to improve. i chose to study architecture at the last minute and before starting university i was so scared by the idea of being surrounded by people much better than me who had probably been studying the subject for years and had always dreamed of becoming architects. it doesn't mean anything. if you have the right determination it will take you very little time to make great improvements, no one is your competition, your only opponent is yesterday's you, the only thing in front of you is the finish line. maybe you're the next renzo piano and you don't know it yet.

[roguestarsailor]

I’m so sleepy. Like I know I’m tired and I will be even more tired once the afternoon rolls around because of jet leg but i can’t sleep. I even stayed up til 12am last night and I still woke up at 6am. I want to go back to sleep but it’s getting closer to day light and time to go to work and my body just doesn’t.

I have this itchy feeling of needing to leave. Leave my job? Leave this city? Leave this apartment? I’m still feeling not well knowing that my building manager came into my apartment without my consent and it violated a privacy I knew I didn’t completely have but still. I want to change the locks.

Met a coworker’s nephew yesterday and he was absolutely the cutest and he was obsessed with balloons. I once again felt the baby fever! Physically had restrain myself and go back to work. But made me think that maybe I do want a baby…but it feels like such a heavy thought. I think if I got pregnant now it’s fine, but the steps to lead to the pregnancy is much much more difficult and finding a man to have one with is the biggest hurdle and I don’t particularly like men if I’m honest (is it bad that I am trying to figure out if a man will turn right wing as he ages and that possibility is making me opt out of having a man??)

And lastly my breast reduction. It’s finding someone to help me get out of the hospital is the big thing. I don’t know who to ask. And then it’s also a surgery and I’m not sure how to look at myself post surgery and all that scarring and such. It’s a BIG deal and though insurance approved me…I’ve been putting off scheduling that appointment and I only have three months before I have to redo the initial examination again and it’ll be unknown if insurance will approve next time. What will I tell people when I’m gone for like a month or so? Maybe it won’t be obvious? Do I even do it? Should I just live with my big boobs as is? Will I regret this decision? I’m still mildly influenced by the guy who broke my heart but I do fear if my field of vision for this is too short sighted and that I can just live with my big boobs?? Despite the many limitations and hassles here and there?

Lots of thoughts this morning and no sleep and I’m so tired. Chin acne is back and my general face is not confidence boosting and my belly isn’t shrinking at all. I feel bad about my body again and it’s more about how I cant figure out how to eat well for myself and eat well consistently and sugar is still the only thing that doesn’t make me nauseous.

[sapphicsmaximoff]

earth-326 (pt.3) - wanda maximoff

a/n: sorry this is so short and took so long, but i’ve started school, so updates will be way less frequent

i ii iii iv

You’d all made it to the shipping yard, and you fought back valiantly. Some began to retreat as you landed before Thor, noticing his dazed state. You could hear him go out on comms, and you were worried. “Thor?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you could feel it. 

You began to sweat as you feel under her spell. Your eyes glowed as read as hers, and you took a deep breath, stumbling back. Outside of your mind, Wanda jumped as your wings popped out from your back. The uncoordinated motion rips the back of your shirt open, and she gasps at your beautiful features. 

Not your back muscles, but the wings. And she looked into your mind, noticing you were much more frantic. and trying to resist. She began to soothe you with her native tongue. She could see it, Strucker eerily smiling at you as a young child. “You and your pathetic siblings, will never make us proud.” 

You began to growl, your vision becoming hotter, the heat beginning to burn. The veins in your neck began to protrude as you burst off of the ground and straight through the top of the ship. 

<>

The amount of talking to Tommy hadn’t necessarily been fruitful. When you brought up Wanda, he avoided the subject. Billy loved his mom, he still drew for her, and would tag along while Tommy begged to stay in the Game Room where Yelena and Kate frequented. 

Tommy obviously was different, but you couldn’t figure out why. Fortunately, after a week you let it go. Instead you focused on Wanda’s first few minutes without the ventilator. You brought food for the team, but ate upstairs as Wanda was being fed through a straw. 

Wanda was enjoying the redo. 

Every day Pietro comes to visit. Yesterday, you and Billy came, but strangely no Tommy. She wishes she could ask why, but doesn’t.

It takes her only a few days to move her limbs, and even less to say her first words without coughing. You all seem to be very supportive, and you even stay overnight by yourself just to be with her.

“This is really good.” You mumble. “Can you eat hard stuff?” Wanda chuckles breathily. “Apple sauce isn’t hard food.” She mutters.

“No, I know that, I mean the tacos.”

“You’ve always had strange taste, moya lyubov’” You wanted to argue, but looked at the items on the table with several different tastes. “I do, don’t I?” Wanda giggles, sitting back.

“So you’re retired? We’re retired?” She asks as she settles back. “Yeah. I-I uh…I teach now. I’m a professor at NYU, I teach physics. Which is very ironic considering I break the rules of physics every time I fly, or flew.”

“You don’t fly anymore?”

“No. I-I don’t have a reason to. I promised the boys I’d stop going on missions…after what happened to you of course.” Wanda gulps. “They were horrified when they saw you. I was horrified. I-“ You pause, rubbing your face as tears begin to fall.

“It wasn’t your fault.” She says, remembering these things from this Wanda’s memories. The literal sword being plunged into and ripped from her back. She fell to her death, rolling onto the beach as she recalled.

“You told me you felt like something bad would happen, and I didn’t fucking listen. “One more mission.” my ass.” Wanda sighs, caressing your face with her hand.

“Come on, it’ll be fun to get back in the field, right?” Wanda rolls her eyes, watching you with a smile. “Yeah, maybe for you. But I enjoy retirement, Y/NN.” You scoff, sitting back with an annoyed expression.

“Wanda, I don’t want to go on my own. It’s just one job. One.”

It ended up being much more that that.

You were cloned, and they’d come after you. It got to Wanda first, and hurt her. It destroyed you, and the destruction you’d brought upon afterwards was something she didn’t need to know at all.

Three years of torture because you couldn’t handle being on your own for too long. What a baby. “I was being a child.” A knock from the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You went to stand, but Natasha opened the door.

Your children walked in behind her, and Billy ran to the bed, hugging his mother. Wanda was delighted, but frowned when she noticed Tommy hiding behind his godmother’s leg. “Tommy.” You warned.

The boy wouldn’t move, he wouldn’t look at her. Natasha looked behind her, trying to get the boy off her leg before you got angry like you usually did. “Tommy, say hello to your mother, now.” He still wouldn’t move.

“Thomas!” You yelled, making the boy flinch. You felt a soft but stiff hand on yours, making your your jaw twitch as you stared at your wife. “It’s okay. He’s fine. He doesn’t have to.” Wanda says. Natasha smiles, dragging Tommy with her as she moved towards her friend. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You scoff, standing up to leave the room. Without regrading either woman, you do leave, slamming the door behind you. “She was very upset. Swore whatever happened to me was her fault, I think what just happened made her a little more upset.” Natasha sighs, simply agreeing with a nod.

“I didn’t mean to make her upset.” A small voice says, making Wanda smile. He still sounded the same. She didn’t know why she would think he’d sound different.

“It’s okay, your mom just needs to be alone.”

<>

Wanda was right about you being upset.

It was a little bit irrational, and Natasha didn’t think Tommy deserved to be iced out due to circumstance. You had let it go, but when you got home, laid them down.

You began to pace, but pause a picture catches your eye. It was you and Wanda taken by Tony, who was in a weird artistic phase. You were somewhere near a lake, she was 4 months pregnant. You remember that weekend like it was yesterday. God, you missed you her so bad.

You were livid that you allowed this to happen, and in turn went downstairs and drank. You swore to Wanda you wouldn’t, but you kept the alcohol hidden in case you needed it.

“I thought you quit.” You jumped, glaring at Natasha. “Jesus Christ, Nat! Why do you do that?”

The redhead shrugs with a smirk. “You need me, Y/NN.” She walks over to you, grabbing the bottle. “Get rest. And maybe don’t be so upset with Tommy tomorrow, he may be a kid, but he has feelings too.”

“Hmm.” You brush past her, not walking to your room upstairs, but over to your living room couch. 

Tags:

@nikkinss @justyourwritter69​ @lizlil​ @reddishmei​ @marvelogic​ @an-evergreen-rose​ @lattayhottay16​ @mymommawanda​ 

[aquamarinescarlet]

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails. 

From none other than Isaac. 

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words. 

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

[bluejayblueskies]

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

.

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

.

.

.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

.

.

.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

.

.

.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

[doiefy]

content creator year in review

tagged by @neonun-au ! thank you mads <3

First creation and most recent creation of 2021: my doyoung hogwarts drabble, rhythm, posted january 2, 2021. back when I still wrote fluff and short fics LMAO. and then respice finem on december 22, 2021.

One of your favourite creations from 2021: 47k monster fic..... respice finem...... buckle in kids, this one's gonna show up quite a bit, i already know.

One creation you’re really proud of: see above LMAO. I just wasn't expecting to write anything so huge? starting it was a struggle, writing it was a struggle, linking everything to at dawn was a struggle, formatting was a struggle, but it's the one fic this year that I think I genuinely don't have any complaints about!

A creation that took you forever: once again......... see above....... 6 months.......

A creation from 2021 that received the most notes: probably blue? I don't really have the mind to check rn and forget to keep up with notes but I still get notifications for it every now and then.

A creation you think deserved more notes: now that I think about it, I don't really like it that much anyways but perpetual hearts didn't show up in tags and I didn't want to redo the entire post LOL. shadow is another one but again. I felt good about it at the time but now I never want to talk about it again.

A new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: I haven't joined any new kpop fandoms in some time but I did fall hard into genshin this year.... and my ot7 dream series visions takes place in that universe so. that works.

A creation you made that breaks your heart: blue and yellow still kinda hurt when I think about them. taking this opportunity to say that a fic I haven't posted yet (waiting for tumblr tags to work again) fucking HURTS hurts. shadow hurt a bit too but. less

A ‘simple’ creation that you really love: chaser. it's kinda greasy, kinda makes me cringe but god I need to write more rockstar doyoung already. or just fluff in general.

A creation that was inspired by another one: next time you see me, I may be smiling bas inspired by money heist ! and the entire at dawn universe took inspiration from an ateez vampire fic I read awhile back. I didn't read it in its entirety because uh. a lot of smut that I wasn't exactly comfortable with, but a lot of the modern vampire thing was inspired by that!

A favourite creation created by someone else: ritual by @neonun-au, lavender fields by @jisungiest, the defeat of creation by @kjmsupremacist

Some of your favourite content creators from this year: how to tag my entire following list? in all honesty I haven't read much this year, so I'm including all the moots whose works I've been dying to read !! trust me I have an entire backlog of fics I'm trying to get to, and will hopefully get to them before school starts

@neonun-au @jisungiest @kjmsupremacist @lebrookestore @koishua @naptaemed @itsapapisongo @jungwooisms @neo-shitty @jensrose @vi-tto

tagging uhhh. anyone who's been tagged in this post, and anyone else interested! the usual suspects 😎

happy new year everyone! <3

[polaristranslations]

Shinobu Mustard Episode 1

001

This spring, Harimaze Kie was a first year that had just enrolled in Naoetsu Private High School and a part of the girls' basketball club, and naturally, she was extremely regretting both of those decisions. She was regretting having enrolled in the university-focused Naoetsu High that had a high standard score, and she was regretting having joined the girls' basketball club that was too Spartan for a school that was supposed to be university-focused.

After all, the Naoetsu High girls' basketball club had previously had a super high-school level superstar, and the team had actually competed on a national level. But, as mentioned above, that senior had already retired, and what remained for the next generation to inherit was simply an intense training regimen.

A sports club with intense training, even though they weren't good.

That was the worst.

It was an ancient style of training that was influenced by images of a golden age—a bloated self-projection of, "we're both human beings, so I should be able to reach her level".

In the first place, this superstar senior had ultimately sustained an injury to her left arm and opted for an early retirement, so a Spartan training regimen was really meaningless, or rather, it could even prove to be backfiring on the team... So why was the club still forcing its members to do bunny hops?

Having said that, she wasn't exactly willing to quit the club of her own accord. If the coach or the captain were to give her the cruel verdict of, "You have no talent so you should just quit," then she'd happily resign with that as the reason. But unfortunately—and perhaps this was also a remnant of the era in which a superstar was a member—the Spartan girls' basketball club had a strong sense of solidarity.

And a strong sense of solidarity meant a heavy sense of collective responsibility.

If quitting of her own accord could end up influencing her teammates in some way, then it was hard to even bring up the subject... If she even said a word of "wanting to quit", then it would stop being just her problem alone.

Even though it was a tradition that couldn't be right, she didn't want to be the cause of putting it to an end... She wanted the evil tradition to come to its natural end, praying that it wasn't made out to be her fault. Stemming from the collective responsibility was a desire to shift the responsibility onto someone else. And probably, the other teammates were also continuing to endure the hard training with similar motives, their hands tied by similar ropes, all being foolish together.

And with that, it was today as well that Harimaze Kie had unwillingly participated in club activities right up until she was allowed to leave, dragging her two legs that ached with unending muscular pain down the dark evening path as she'd done for the past few months.

Her teammates all left in different directions, and obviously the time she left from school didn't coincide with her friends from class (in fact, her club activities had been so intense that she'd fallen out of contact with her friends from class), so she was returning home alone in a way that couldn't possibly be considered safe. She was even wondering if some bad guy wouldn't just come up and attack her already.

Even though she'd be able to triumphantly quit the club if she were to get badly hurt.

Even as she realized her thoughts had gone in too serious a direction, she could no longer control her thoughts anymore... She had become utterly exhausted from taking over the awful legacy that had meaninglessly remained, even as she knew it was backfiring.

Even her grades continued to decline.

It was true that practice was stopped before exams, but she'd found it hard to escape from the unspoken pressure of "training on your own" and "training in secret", and so her first midterm exams had resulted in awful scores that would been unthinkable for her in middle school. And at this rate, her rank for the final exams was sure to fall in the triple digits.

Well, not all of it could be blamed on club activities.

The students that had gathered at this private, university-focused school had simply had grades so excellent it made her embarrassed for having evaluated herself as a prodigy just a few months before... She'd gotten depressed, thinking things like, "Won't I end up becoming the first dropout since Naoetsu High was founded?"

Ah, that's why I want to be attacked.

Someone attack me. Beat me up.

Turn my life into chaos.

It could become an excuse for me to quit the club, and I might even get exempted from final exams... Then I can study while in the hospital and catch up on what I've fallen behind on. That's right, even if I wasn't a prodigy, I should be diligent enough to do that.

I can still redo everything.

Was this way of thinking just escapism?

(Escapism... Did that mean escaping from reality? Or did it mean managing to escape to reality?)

To throw away her hopes and dreams, and focus on reality.

In a sense, that was also a form of escapism... But in any case, there was no bad guy that conveniently appeared to strike her head in on Harimaze Kie's way home. No matter how many times, how many days she prayed.

Ah, then it's fine even if it isn't some bad guy.

It's fine if I get run over by a car at some corner, and it's fine if an airplane crashed onto my exact location... If it can make it easier for me, then anything's fine.

Even if it isn't reality... Even if it's a fantasy.

Like.

Yes, even something like a monstrous apparition—

"This is something I think every time I come to this country, but... There isn't a phrase that makes me less thankful than 'Thanks for the meal'... And saying 'It was delicious' is practically the opposite of delicious."

As she came near a three-way intersection, and as she walked—no, as she painfully dragged her legs while looking at her smartphone to make it even easier for a bad guy to attack her from behind, Harimaze Kie was, very openly, approached from the front.

And, as if a self-introduction was a form of etiquette that could never be forgotten—

"I'm the great Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster. The death-prepared, death-inevitable, death-certain vampire."

Her hope had been granted. Or perhaps, her despair had been granted.

Thinking that, Harimaze Kie raised her head.

002

It had been a while since I'd been to a hospital.

However, it wasn't that I, Araragi Koyomi, was particularly afraid of syringes, nor did I have a fear of lab coats—in fact, I actually loved them. This is just between you and me, but there'd been one time that I'd made my girlfriend wear a lab coat... We'd roleplayed using a mechanical pencil as a syringe.

Regardless (as much as it made me fall into some frustrations), the reason I'd stayed away from hospitals regardless of anything was that, during spring break when I was still a 17-year-old high schooler, I'd had my blood sucked by the gold-haired and gold-eyed, iron-blooded, hot-blooded, cold-blooded vampire, beautiful enough to send chills down my spine, and spent about 2 weeks as a vampire. And, because of the aftereffects, I had become completely free of injuries and diseases.

I was in such good health that I was almost tired of it.

Or rather, if I found myself getting examined at a hospital, then my aberrant regeneration abilities or superior eyesight could come to light, and I could end up being used as a sample for human experimentation... As a result, I'd even come up with an excuse to skip out on the physical examinations that occurred when entering college.

For the sake of my rose-colored campus life, there was no end to the caution I'd need to take... Regardless, the reason I came to the Naoetsu General Hospital this time was because I'd been personally called there by an adult that I owed more to than even my own parents.

By Gaen Izuko-san.

"So, what do you think, Koyomin? About this patient," said Gaen-san.

In a room on the fifth floor of the fourth ward, she spoke almost as if a doctor would—as if she were asking for my opinion. But I was in the science department and not the medical department, and if we were saying that, then not even Gaen-san was a doctor, either. Although, if it was her, it wouldn't be surprising if she had multiple doctor's licenses... Of course, while I had no intention of pretending to be a doctor at this point, after being prompted, I decided to give the bedridden "patient" a look.

Actually, because the single room wasn't all that big, that "patient" had already been in my field of vision since I'd entered, but it was just hard for me to look directly—I'd averted my eyes on reflex.

It felt like I'd seen something I wasn't supposed to.

The "patient" that was lying on the bed was,

"...A mummy."

While it had been made to wear a patient gown for hospital use, at the very least, it did not seem like a living being—or so it seemed.

"This is a mummy, isn't it? A human one, at that."

When I was a high schooler, there'd been a time that I witnessed something like a mummified monkey, but from the physique, and from the hair that was still left on the head, even if they'd gotten completely dried up, I could tell for certain that this mummy was a human.

Even if they weren't a living human.

They were certainly a dead human.

"No, no, this isn't even a dead human, Koyomin."

"...Um, Gaen-san. Isn't it about time for you to stop calling me 'Koyomin'? I'm already a college student now."

"A college freshman is practically the same as a newborn baby, you know. It was the same for me. I would say, goo goo ga ga."

She was totally unapproachable.

Well, it was a waste of breath. Considering this woman of unknown age, even once I became a fully-fledged adult, she would probably still affectionately call me "Koyomin"... But anyway, what did she mean by, "this isn't even a dead human"?

"It's alive. Still. Even in this state."

Gaen-san spoke without a moment's hesitation—it was a composed, not overly dramatic way of speaking very much like a specialist, or rather, very much like the administrator of specialists.

However, as someone who wasn't even close to being a specialist, it was a line I couldn't overlook.

This mummy was still alive? Really?

I would've guessed this was some kind of sokushinbutsu, some kind of mummified monk, that had been brought from some temple... Although, thinking about it, it would be in bad taste even for Gaen-san to lay someone like that to rest in the bed of a hospital.

"Its heart is still beating, and it's still breathing. Its bodily functions are almost disturbingly normal. Though there's certainly no consciousness, it's not dead yet... If you think it's a lie, you can check for yourself."

"Check for myself..."

Being told that, I nervously reached out a hand to feel the sleeping mummy's heartbeat—but just before I touched it, I was rebuked with a, "Hold on, Koyomin".

"That's a girl, you know. Touching her chest is off-limits. You could at least take the lady's arm to get a pulse like a gentleman."

A girl? Considering it had gotten all dried up, it was impossible to tell the gender of the mummy—however, regardless of whether or not she was a lady, I couldn't ignore the fact that she was a girl.

"...Then, if you'll excuse me."

I touched the left wrist of the mummy. Since she was a mummy, I was worried that she'd crumble into bits if I touched her, so I'd tried to be as gentle as possible, but that dried-up skin was still surprisingly resilient.

And I certainly felt a pulse. Thump, thump, thump.

"I'll just say this right now, but there's not actually any blood flowing—though her heart is still beating, there's no blood circulating."

It's just air circulating—said Gaen-san.

"Just air in a hollow body. Like it's completely empty."

"......"

As I listened to Gaen-san speak, unsure whether the line was supposed to be a joke or a fact, I pushed aside the mummy's hair to carefully check the girl's neck—and, as expected.

Two small holes had been pierced into her neck.

As if she'd been bitten by a snake.

Or, as if she'd been taken in by an oni.

"......"

"Harimaze Kie is the name of that mummy. A female student of the school you used to go to, Naoetsu High... But since she's a freshman that started this year, I don't think she's an acquaintance of yours."

"...Was she attacked by a vampire?"

Though I'd internally gotten flustered at the name of my alma mater suddenly showing up, I confirmed with Gaen-san something that didn't need to be said. It was so obvious that it definitely could've been left unsaid, but even so, I couldn't go without asking.

I gradually began to understand why I'd been called here.

"It seems so. On the way back from club activities, it seems she ran into one with a bang."

"Even though it'd been peaceful."

That was all I could say.

I had no intention of pretending that I understood anything.

However, everything started when I was attacked by a vampire during that spring break—the turmoil that ensued should have been brought to an end with my graduation ceremony, but to think that, just a few months later, a case like this would occur.

Well, it was possible that incidents like this occurred frequently across the world that I just didn't know about—if not for that, then Gaen-san, "the onee-san that knew everything", would be out of a job.

It was a terrible business opportunity.

It was a very niche livelihood—or rather, a niche death-lihood.

"So you're saying, this girl... Harimaze-chan? Did Harimaze-chan turn into a vampire?"

"Well, it seems that she failed to turn into a vampire."

Gaen-san shrugged.

"This is a fairly common occurrence. Successes like your case, Koyomin, are actually rarer. Although, with what happened, from the side of the vampire that sucked your blood, it was a huge failure for her."

Saying that, Gaen-san lowered her eyes to the linoleum that was characteristic of hospitals... That is, to my shadow on the floor.

Of course, there was no response from my shadow.

We were in broad daylight.

"Even though she's still alive, she's just barely not dead... Just a mummy with all its blood sucked out. Not on the verge of death, but still more dead than alive. Is that it..."

Even I could've become like this at that time... However, while a part of me was trembling, another part of me was relieved.

I had no intention of saying that it was fortunate that Harimaze-chan had her blood sucked by a vampire and turned into a mummy where it wasn't clear whether she was alive or not—but, as long as she was still alive, there was still hope.

And because of that, just like there had been for me, there must be a way to turn her back into a human—so the fact that her vampire transformation had failed was a blessing in disguise.

In my case, I had no choice but to do something about it by myself through my own efforts and self-education, but in this case, the omniscient specialist Gaen-san was presiding over it... I wasn't exactly optimistic, but there had to be a way to help this girl out.

"'Help her', huh? Didn't my very own Hawaiian-shirt guy say something about that?"

"...I've already completely forgotten what your Hawaiian-shirt guy has said, but Gaen-san, it's not something you say, isn't it? You don't say anything like, 'You can't help her. People can only help themselves.'"

"It seems like you remember it, though."

Gaen-san gave a sarcastic laugh.

"Of course, I'm here to help this girl, Harimaze-chan. However, Koyomin. If you simply think that a homebody like me being out here from the beginning is 'dependable', then that would be troublesome for me," she said.

What did she say?

"Huh? What does that mean? If you're saying you can't be depended on, Gaen-san, then who else is there that we can depend on?"

"That's a very nice thing to say, but before I explain, let's change locations."

"Change locations? To where?"

"We'll be making our rounds. Since it doesn't seem like you hate playing doctor, Koyomin, let me introduce you to the next patient."

003

It was a mystery how Gaen-san, who was neither a doctor nor a staff member of this hospital, was able to walk around as if she owned the place, but after seeing that a similar-looking mummy had been laid down in the bed of the next room over, I decided to come to the conclusion that the director of this hospital was the one who made the request to this specialist.

With these patients who had had all the fluids sucked out of their bodies and yet for some reason were still alive, if two were brought in in quick succession, it wasn't exactly something that modern medicine could do anything about... It had to be the work of the occult.

"This girl is called Honnou Aburi-chan. Another student of Naoetsu High—however, she's a second-year, so it's possible for even Koyomin to know her."

Unfortunately.

During my high school days, I wasn't exactly the sort that interacted much with my juniors.

Or rather, I hadn't even gotten accustomed to school enough to remember the names of students in other years... If she was currently a second-year, that meant that when I was a third-year, she was a first-year.

It was possible that I'd at least seen her face before, but because she was a mummy, and because she'd been made to wear a patient gown, I had no way of identifying her by her appearance... If I had to be completely honest, I couldn't even distinguish her from the mummy in the previous room.

"Harimaze-chan's mummy, that had been lying on the road, was discovered by a passerby the day before yesterday. Honnou-chan, who'd been found as a mummy at home in her own futon, was discovered last night by her mother."

"One person a day? That's quite a fast pace."

"It's not necessarily one person a day. There could be more that just simply haven't been discovered yet. Right now, it may just seem like only female students from Naoetsu High are being targeted, but there's a possibility this is only two out of a hundred victims."

Two out of a hundred. And that wasn't totally an exaggeration.

As for the vampire I personally knew, she boasted that she could stay alive even if she only drank the blood of a single person every few months, but on the other hand, she still had an appetite where she could suck the blood of all of humanity if she lost self-control.

However, in this case, I suppose I had to consider things based on Gaen-san's conjectures... There was some unidentified vampire targeting female students of Naoetsu High.

Unidentified... No.

The vampire I personally knew.

"Um, Gaen-san. Could it be possible that you're suspecting Shinobu? It's true that she'd been the subject of a rumor among the female students of Naoetsu High once before—"

"No, no, I've never once thought that to be the case. I only just realized when you asked me. It's not for that reason that I called you out, Koyomin, when you're enjoying your college life. I was just hoping to cooperate with you, as you know the lay of the land. So that we can prevent a 3rd victim, or perhaps a 101st victim."

Of course, you aren't a stranger to helping out a girl that you have absolutely no relation to—said Gaen-san, as if she were making fun of my personal history. Although I had nothing to say in response... It was because I got so desperate to help those I saw within range or within reach that I would end up troubling those who weren't within range and weren't within reach.

But, what should I do now?

After suddenly being shown not one, but two mummies in quick succession, and hearing that they were mummies of high school girls, I would inevitably be driven by a sense of moral obligation to help them, but fundamentally, a request made by Gaen-san wasn't something I could accept so readily.

For an adult that I couldn't know the true nature of, in a sense, she was scarier than a vampire.

Seeing that I stayed quiet instead of giving an immediate response, Gaen-san spoke.

"To be honest, the state of the board is such that I'd like to depend on Koyomin, too. A dependable Koyomin," she said. "It's a situation where someone like me, who likes working behind-the-scenes, had to be dispatched, you see. And if that's not enough, I can even say this... Right now, I'm taking measures to call that Yozuru back here."

"Eh... Kagenui-san?"

Perhaps I shouldn't be too surprised at that. However, I was still more than surprised—I was more surprised than I'd been after seeing two mummies in quick succession. At the very least, my reaction to Gaen-san's statement had to be more than what she'd anticipated.

To call that Yozuru back here.

Certainly, Kagenui-san, Kagenui Yozuru-san, was an onmyouji that specialized in immortal oddities, although it was hard to say that she was a respectable specialist. If anything, she was the specialist in this world that strayed furthest from the correct path—once, in my high school days, when I'd worked with together Gaen-san on a job, even in spite of the fact that an immortal oddity had been involved, Gaen-san had stubbornly refused to rely on Kagenui-san.

That meant that Gaen-san was predicting that this current situation was worse than that time.

In that case, was this something I couldn't ignore? It's not like I particularly had any love for my alma mater (in fact, when I'd still been attending school, I'd absolutely hated it), I'd feel guilty about pretending that I was unrelated to it.

Plus, though I had had almost no interaction with students of other years, it wasn't like there was absolutely no one I knew among my underclassmen... If I imagined one of them becoming the victim of a vampire and turning into a mummy, I couldn't exactly keep calm.

"...However, the practical issue is, if Kagenui-san is going to come, then I don't think that really gives me a chance to act. Or rather, I'd probably just become a hindrance to her. Maybe if I were still a high schooler with stronger aftereffects of my vampirism, but due to various reasons, I've gotten a lot more subdued after entering college."

"That's true. Though you were such an enthusiastic boy back then, it makes me feel lonely to see you all subdued like this."

Yeah, yeah.

"However, Yozuru isn't exactly nimble enough in her footwork to come as soon as she's called. As you're well aware, there are some special circumstances for her. No matter how much she hurries, it'll still take a few days until she arrives at this town... And those few days could very well be crucial to the number of victims."

I see.

If we went that far, then I was now a college student with more than enough time on his hands. If we were speaking of nimbleness in footwork, then I was even better than when I was in high school. Even today, I'd voluntarily skipped my algebra course to respond to Gaen-san's summons.

To tell the truth, there were a lot of circumstances with Kagenui-san that made me feel that it was simply difficult to face her right now, but in that case, it was possible that we could end this oddity phenomenon before she arrived at this town.

And, needless to say, doing that was preferable for Gaen-san, as well.

"Oh yeah. If Kagenui-san's coming here, then I'll have to let Ononoki-chan know, as well... Or rather, Gaen-san, aren't you going to inform Ononoki-chan about this?"

"Well, she herself is in the middle of work on a different case. But it's a secret from you, Koyomin."

"?"

I wonder what it is.

It seemed that Ononoki-chan had recently been hanging out with Sengoku a lot, but if that was the case, then it was hard for me to probe into it... Especially after being specifically told that it was a secret.

"It's important to not sweat the small stuff. If anything, this is just foreshadowing for the next installment. Nonetheless, I have no intention of pressuring you to work with me like I'd done before. If you can state in minute detail a legitimate reason as to why you'd like to flatly refuse getting involved with an incident that could possibly be traumatic, then I'll quickly drop the matter. If that happens, I'll call Kaiki."

"Leave it to me!"

No matter how I saw it, it didn't make sense for Gaen-san to think that that con man would make his entry for a phenomenon of this type, but if she brought out that name anyway, then I didn't really have a choice in the matter.

If it was to keep him as far from this town as possible, I'd do anything.

Con men were prohibited from entering this town.

"Well, con men are prohibited from most towns. Of course, I won't have you be working for free. In exchange for the considerable risk you're about to take, Koyomin, this friendly onee-san will be sure to offer the right amount of compensation."

A considerable risk, you say?

Well, it was quite likely that I would end up facing off against a vampire, and it wasn't like I could nonchalantly linger in safe zones... Not to mention, if I was going to get involved in a case estimated to be more dangerous than the revival of Shishirui Seishirou, I would need to be prepared for that much.

However, if you asked me whether or not I wanted compensation that corresponded to that level of risk, then honestly speaking, I didn't really want it... Frankly, receiving anything from Gaen-san was scary.

The deeper our relations or obligations get, the further into the depths I'd fall.

Being called out each and every time like this was almost like not being able to graduate from high school no matter how much time passed—but as I thought about it like that, Gaen-san spoke as if she'd accurately guessed the contents of my mind.

"If you decide to cooperate in the resolution of this oddity phenomenon, Koyomin... Until you graduate from college, that is, for the next four years or so, I won't appear in front of you again, and I won't even try to contact you. I swear it. You'll be able to go ahead with your bright and happy campus life, free from oddities and specialists," she said.

"For... For real?"

"Yes, for real. You'll never catch me in a lie or in twintails."

If it was Gaen-san in twintails, then I felt like I'd do anything to see that form, but this was a proposal that was even more attractive than that... Well, in another point of view it almost sounded like she was declaring that she'd cut ties with me, and if she swore that much it could even be a bit lonely (which sounded a bit selfish, even for me). But if it meant I could cleanly wash my hands of a life where I would be spoken to with an air of condescension whenever the chance arose, then there was no better compensation for me.

Well, it wasn't exactly clear how credible an oath made by the senior of that con man really was (it was even possible she'd done her hair up in twintails before), but, well, regardless of whether that promise was there, this certainly wasn't a situation that I could ignore.

All my reservations had been cleared up.

In the first place, for Gaen-san, I wasn't exactly a card that was easy to use. And it wasn't the same as with Kagenui-san. It was a problem of being too nimble in footwork. When it came to not moving within Gaen-san's predictions or directions, high school third-year Araragi Koyomi had been especially bad, if I do say so myself—now that I was remembering it, I had better repent for my behavior back then.

If an incident that forced Gaen-san's hand into using this worthless card was occurring in my hometown, then I absolutely couldn't just overlook this... That's right.

Sometimes, it was fine to help out people I didn't know.

"Understood. I'll do my best to work with you, to the extent that it doesn't interfere with my schoolwork—however, I don't want to cause trouble for my family, so I'd like for you be considerate in that respect."

"Ah. Of course, I can do something about that. I'd be well aware of the relationship between Yozuru and Tsukihi-chan even if I wasn't an onee-san that knew everything—oh!"

Just as Gaen-san managed to successfully gain my cooperation, her cell phone began playing a ringtone—well, considering we were inside a hospital, the thing that received a call could be her PHS, her Personal Handy-phone System, instead. She was an onee-san that carried a large number, with various kinds, of telecommunications equipment.

"Hello? Yeah. Yeah. ...Yeah."

As she spoke on the phone, Gaen-san's tone grew lower with every nod.

She was fundamentally an onee-san with a carefree style that didn't suit seriousness at all, but it seemed that the radio waves had managed to deliver information that could make this onee-san stop smiling.

"I have some unfortunate news, Koyomin," said Gaen-san after hanging up. "A third victim was discovered. Once again, a female student from Naoetsu High."

004

If you asked what would be the most striking difference, or perhaps transformation, between the Araragi Koyomi that attended Naoetsu Private High School and the Araragi Koyomi that attended Manase National University, then the most appropriate answer would be the method he took to go to school. Though I'd fundamentally spent my high school days going to school on a bicycle and otherwise on foot, when it came to college, my hands instead gripped the steering wheel of a car.

It was a Volkswagen New Beetle. It was after grueling hours of hard work at my part-time job that I managed to procure a used one in good condition, and I'd further restored it on my own—well, saying so would make a really good impression, but actually, it was a new car that was gifted to me by my parents to celebrate my high school graduation.

I was really being pampered.

Surprisingly enough, the fact that I so easily accepted that amount of pampering without resisting as part of my rebellious phase could actually be considered the biggest difference, or transformation... But putting that aside, after exiting the hospital, I had Gaen-san sit in the back seat of that New Beetle and headed towards the scene of the oddity phenomenon.

If you were wondering why I had her sit in the back seat, it was because a child seat had been affixed to the passenger seat—my passenger seat was reserved for a certain young girl.

"By appearance, isn't Shinobu-chan about 8 years old...? Though it's not even comparable to her in her complete mode, isn't she old enough to not need a child seat?"

"That feeling of having a slightly older kid fit tightly in a child seat is what I like."

"Mm... That's something you'd be better off not telling other people, Koyomin. Even me, an onee-san who knows everything, would have preferred not knowing that."

As we lightly exchanged such witty banter, we headed for our destination, which, as expected, was the school road to Naoetsu High—it wasn't a place that was too far off from the hospital, so we arrived fairly quickly.

Because it was immediately following the discovery of the mummy, I had thought there would be a crowd of onlookers that had formed or police officers that had rushed in, but the area was surprisingly unpopular... Even if it wasn't the time when people were going to school, could a normal road like this really be so deserted?

It had made me a bit suspicious, but it turned out that that was a result of Gaen-san's arrangements.

A way of keeping people out through some sort of barrier, the domain of specialists.

It should have been obvious from the beginning, but I wasn't the only person at Gaen-san's beck and call at this case—Gaen-san's forte was working in a team, and it could be seen as a good outcome that the search party had already managed to discover another victim that had been mummified in the same way as the two that had already been carried to the hospital.

Already. And yet, too late.

It couldn't really be said that finding the third victim was a good thing.

"I know you have some anxiety around strangers, Koyomin, so I had the search party leave the area, too. So you can perform your on-site inspection at a leisurely pace," said Gaen-san.

I was happy for that concern, but my stranger anxiety wasn't that extreme.

Well, from Gaen-san's perspective, she probably didn't want to introduce a temporary member like me to her subordinates, or her "real cooperators"—I could understand that.

Since my education wasn't very good.

"Even so, there's a limit to putting up a paranormal barrier in a residential area in the middle of the day, so let's move quickly. I expect this to have a strong visual impact, Koyomin, so make sure you prepare yourself mentally for that."

And Gaen-san exited from the back seat of the New Beetle... After being shown not one, but two mummified high school girls in quick succession, why was she telling me this now? That was what I'd been wondering as I followed her out, but immediately, I realized the importance of that advice.

Where the third victim had been discovered was, to be precise, inside some kind of shack that I didn't really understand, built on the other side of the guardrail alongside the school road.

Well, it had probably originally been some sort of wooden structure made for some purpose, but now, it could only be seen as some unidentifiable pile of wood... Though I'd said she was inside, it could at best be seen as some sort of awning, and with this many gaps in the woodwork, it likely would be able to keep out neither rain nor wind.

And, at the dried-up mummy inside it, I was rendered speechless.

Comparing the mummy that had been made to wear a patient gown and been laid down on a hospital bed, with the mummy that had been found in this mysterious incomprehensible shack wearing a high school uniform and collapsed on her side as if she had just dropped dead, the visual difference was striking.

Her shoes had fallen off, her clothes were a mess, and her bag had been thrown to the side.

Those details insistently nagged at me that this was the actual reality of things... Even if it was an oddity phenomenon, it was a reality that couldn't be passed off as fantasy.

There was no distinction between reality and delusion.

I was starting to regret having entered a domain that amateurs shouldn't lay a hand on—if it hadn't been Gaen-san that I'd made a promise with, I would probably turn tail and run.

However, it wasn't good to have my whole body tremble in fear.

In fact, it almost made me want to put on airs like a specialist... I tried to act as composed as possible and began to approach the mummy.

"This one also looks like a failure from a vampire transformation," I said, saying something I'd just learned as if I'd known it all along.

As I'd done earlier in the hospital, I took her wrist to feel for a pulse—and then.

"Koyomin, look out!"

It was unusual to hear Gaen-san shout, but it was no wonder she did.

When I'd squatted down near the mummy, she sprang up as if a spring had been installed in her back, and reached her arm out towards me—no, not her arm, but her finger.

And not her finger, but her nail.

The mummy tried to scratch me—tried to tear me to shreds.

"Wh-whoa! Ah..."

Being held down by a high school girl could be considered exciting and pleasurable depending on the circumstances, but if the conditions were that it had to take place inside an ominous shack and the high school girl had to be a mummy, then it definitely wasn't something I could feel happy about—though I'd carelessly approached the mummy to take her pulse, I'd ended up grabbing both of her arms for different reasons—for self-defense reasons.

I was able to somehow defend myself against the girl's ten unpainted nails, but I couldn't do anything about her fangs—by grabbing both her wrists, that also had the effect of sealing my own arms from being used.

And if the mummy, while holding me down, tried to come and bite into me, it wasn't like I could try and bite into her to defend myself.

Though I'd managed to perform all kinds of different kisses in my life, a mummified girl was way out of my strike zone—but ultimately, it was the work of a specialist that sealed the lips of the mummy that came onto me so passionately, and more importantly, the fangs that glinted within those lips.

Rather than sealing them, it was more like Gaen-san unleashed it—and what she unleashed was a cloth-like curtain that had covered the window of the shack.

And with that, the rays of the sun entered indoors, shining like a spotlight onto the mummy, and stopping her movements—like the opposite of a doll that moved using solar cells, as a result of bathing in the sun, the mummy ceased functioning.

As if her soul had been taken from her—if that was even possible—she collapsed onto me. That in itself was pretty frightening, but it seemed I'd just barely managed to escape from the predicament I'd carelessly stumbled into.

Although, considering that Gaen-san had cleaned up the predicament of this amateur college student with the most minimal of actions, perhaps it could hardly be considered a predicament... I see, even if the transformation had failed, the mummy was still a vampire, and was weak to sunlight.

Come to think of it, the hospital rooms where the mummies had been lying had also had the curtains open... And there were probably various other measures in place in that hospital room to seal the mummies' movements.

Even if they had no consciousness, even if the transformation had failed, a vampire was a vampire.

Even drawing near was dangerous.

"So... Sorry, Gaen-san. For acting on my own accord."

Rather than acting on my own accord, this was the result of me acting pretentious.

It was surprising how little I'd grown... Though I didn't know if getting my blood sucked by a mummy that had failed to become a vampire would turn me into a vampire, this had come dangerously close to eerily reproducing the events of that spring break when I was a 17-year-old.

Feeling ashamed of myself, I crawled out from underneath the mummy... But to that, Gaen-san said, "No, it's a great achievement, Koyomin," with some sort of consolation that I didn't understand.

An achievement?

"The name of this girl is Kuchimoto Kyoumi-chan. A first-year of Naoetsu High. Because of how tall she is, I'd thought she was a third-year, but it seems kids these days are growing very well."

Without showing any more concern for me, Gaen-san had taken the bag that had been off to the side and looked through her student handbook and wallet and other belongings to obtain the victim's personal information—the first mummy had been a first-year, the second mummy had been a second-year, so the third would be a third-year... But there was no such clever progression.

"Um... Gaen-san. What do you mean by it being an achievement?"

"When Kuchimoto-chan went after you to try and scratch you, Koyomin, she dropped the set of flash cards that were in her hand, you see—you're not a high schooler anymore, Koyomin, but you remember what vocabulary flash cards are, right? The pieces of paper that you use to memorize English words."

Without turning to face me, she promptly tossed me those flash cards—of course I remembered. They were a huge help when I'd been taking entrance exams.

I caught them—it seemed Kuchimoto-chan wasn't particularly studious, as the flash cards were almost brand new. Among those flash cards, only the first one had been used, and what had been handwritten on the surface in red pen wasn't even an English word.

"B777Q".

"...? What is this?"

"I wonder. By the way, there was a pen that seems like it could've written that among the writing materials right next to it—the cap of the pen wasn't even on. It was as if, when being attacked by a vampire, Kuchimoto-chan panicked and grabbed whatever she could to try and memorize that vocabulary word."

Gaen-san spoke carefreely as she fiddled with a smartphone with a strap on it, likely the high school girl's—unfortunately, it seemed a lock had been placed on it, which meant the contents of the phone could not be analyzed by even a specialist proficient with telecommunications equipment.

But anyway, the flash cards.

She tried to memorize vocabulary at that point... There's no way.

If anything...

"By the way, it seems Kuchimoto-san was an avid reader, which is admirable for this day and age. There was a work by Ellery Queen in her bag. You know, that Ellery Queen, famous for her 'Challenges to the Reader'."

And that Ellery Queen was famous for her dying messages as well—although, Kuchimoto-san had failed in a vampire transformation, so she was neither dead nor murdered, so the term dying message wasn't exactly accurate—but, "B777Q".

"It's a code that would elate that mystery maniac Ougi-chan. Although it would be impossible to go and depend on her now."

"Indeed. And she is still a student of Naoetsu High. She may even pull us further into the dark... At least during her stay of execution, I'd like to have her stay quiet."

During her stay of execution, huh? It had a nice ring to it.

Although it didn't particularly seem like she was going to stay quiet, there was no way I should further stimulate her curiosity—although, if more students of Naoetsu High were going to become victims, then that dark girl would very likely start acting on her own.

I was at a loss. If I were still in high school, I'd be able to depend on Hanekawa without hesitation, but... No, wait.

"Gaen-san. Will you please give Koyomin a chance to redeem himself?"

"Hm? What's that?"

"This dying message... Well, maybe we should be calling it a living message, but I think I have an idea about how to solve it. Please allow me to hold onto these flash cards for a bit."

"If you're going to say that much, then I don't mind. Living message, huh? How clever. It's common to make a joke that turns 'dying message' into 'dining message', but going for 'living' is fresh. And discovering that bit of evidence so early on is all thanks to Koyomin, after all—meanwhile, I'll be in charge of this."

Gaen-san had so disappointingly left the task to me that it felt less like she was giving me a chance to redeem myself and more like she'd discovered an even more important clue in her investigation—Gaen-san's line of sight was still resting on Kuchimoto-san's smartphone.

To be precise, what the specialist's keen eyes were looking at was not the locked smartphone itself.

It was the item that was literally connected to it, the strap.

"...Is there something wrong with the strap, Gaen-san?"

To an amateur like me, it looked like nothing but an ordinary strap. It had two accessories in the shape of the alphabet letter "K" dangling from it—without even needing to think about it, they were most likely the initials for the name "KYOUMI KUCHIMOTO".

Even if you locked your cell phone, if you left that personal information dangling out in the open, then it felt pretty meaningless...

"Of course, with just this, it would just be cute accessories that you could see anywhere. But if the second victim known as Honnou Aburi had a similar strap attached to her smartphone, wouldn't the story change?"

"Eh? ...A similar one?"

"Accessories with her initials. For Honnou Aburi-chan, it would be 'A H'... The lettering was the same. Of course, it could just be a coincidence. It could be a simple trend that this onee-san past her prime is unaware of."

The smartphone of the first victim, Harimaze-chan, wasn't decorated with any accessories at all, too—said Gaen-san, making a prudent excuse, before continuing with a "However".

"However, if the victims have something in common besides just being female students of Naoetsu High—there's a possibility that that missing link can tie back to the identity of that unidentifiable vampire as well."

005

Gaen-san called an ambulance to transport the third mummy, Kuchimoto Kyoumi-chan, to Naoetsu General Hospital, as the previous two mummies had been. And afterwards, I drove my New Beetle and headed for Manase University.

It wasn't anything like the admirable attitude of a college student to at least attend his afternoon lectures—it was to follow up on the idea I'd had with regards to solving the living message that had been left.

Conveniently, the 5th period course for today was the cryptography course I'd been thinking of—and undoubtedly, Meniko was sure to attend.

Hamukai Meniko.

She was a new friend I'd made in college. Considering she'd become a friend of mine, she was as usual a bit of an oddball, but what was important was that Hamukai Meniko was my first friend in a while to be completely unrelated to monstrous apparitions or evil spirits, urban legends or oddity stories—to be honest, just this made enrolling in university worthwhile.

I was glad I worked so hard to study.

Anyway, when I arrived at Manase University and entered the cryptography lecture hall in a bit of a late fashion, as usual, there was some good news and bad news.

The bad news: class had been canceled.

This was something that happened in college, after all.

However, the good news—there was a single person sitting in the lecture hall, neither reading a book nor playing with her smartphone nor draped over her desk asleep. And the one that was sitting while staring vacantly off into space was the student I was looking for.

"Yo, Meniko."

"Ah. Araragi-chan. Hola. Class is canceled, you know?"

"Hola. Seems like it, huh. But then, what are you even doing here?"

"Because I planned on spending my time here—I guess?"

As if she was wondering for the first time as to why she was sitting in a lecture hall for a canceled class, she responded as if she were playing dumb.

Thinking about it, it had been something like this when I first spoke to her, too—I'd come late to a class that had gotten canceled, and I'd ended up meeting Meniko, who was sitting in the classroom not doing anything.

In short, Meniko was decidedly bad at making changes to a schedule that she'd decided upon—even if a class was canceled, if she decided that she was going to spend that hour in that classroom, she'd move according to that schedule.

She was definitely an oddball. Although not as odd as I was.

But it was thanks to that that I could find her like this—because her personality was like this, it was pretty difficult to make plans over text as a result.

"There's something I want you to take a look at."

Finding it fortunate that the classroom had no one else in it, I took a seat next to Meniko and got straight to the point.

"All ri~ight. I'll look at anythi~ing. If it's a reque~est from Araragi-chan."

"It's about this flash card."

Since it was my first friend in a while with no involvement with oddities, I took special care not to get Meniko tangled up in my various oddity-related affairs, as I'd done with Oikura, while trying to maintain friendly relations with her, but in this case, it probably wouldn't be a problem—or rather, there were certainly many kinds of people in college, and among them, a female college student like this, with such a leisurely atmosphere, that it almost seemed like she was living in a different flow of time, and her hobby was deciphering codes, even when she wasn't a mystery maniac—she was quite an eccentric one.

She'd enrolled as a mathematics student as a result of her code maniac growing intense, and she was a promising ray of light among the first-years, valued highly by even the professor in charge of this cryptography course, although it had been canceled today.

And she was aiming to get a job in the police department's cyber security division or something... So, if I couldn't rely on Hanekawa or Ougi-chan, then I couldn't think of anyone else better than Meniko to ask for help—of course, I didn't reveal the fact that this was, not a dying message, but a living message left behind by a mummy that had failed to become a vampire.

I absolutely wouldn't introduce her to Gaen-san, either.

If I wanted to protect my precious friendships, I had to draw the line there.

"'B777Q'... Hmm?"

It seemed she'd been intrigued by it. It was hard to tell by her facial expression, but fundamentally, if there was something Meniko didn't find interesting, she'd ignore it as if she didn't even see it.

If you took in the fact that she'd so carelessly promised to "look at anything", then her words didn't match up with her actions at all, so it was good that I got her to look at it.

"Flash cards, hu~uh? How nosta~algic. Hm? There's something written on the back, too."

"Huh? The back?"

When I flipped through the cards back in that shack, I had judged that the rest of them had been completely blank, but right, since it they were flash cards, there was a space to write on the back, as well...

I definitely wasn't cut out for the role of a detective.

There were too many things I overlooked.

Nonetheless, when I inspected both sides of the flash cards dropped by Kuchimoto-san that I'd thought to be blank, both the fronts and the backs of almost all of them turned out to blank after all, without anything strange appearing—however, as Meniko had pointed out, on the other side of the very first card with "B777Q" written on it, the numbers "231" had been written in a manner even messier than on the front—"231"?

"B777Q" and "231"?

Absolutely nothing seemed to click for me—but what about the code maniac?

"Yeah. I have no idea."

"So you have no idea, either?"

"Yep. I have no idea. Why Araragi-chan, who's so much smarter than me, couldn't solve such an easy code like this—I have no idea."

So basically, did that mean she solved it?

006

I told Meniko that I could treat her to tea or something as thanks, but she politely declined, saying she had the next lecture to attend—well, that was the case for me as well, but unlike Meniko, I was flexible. The fact that I was not in the least reluctant to skip out on lectures was the same as in my high school days.

And, more simply, I had no time to waste.

Because it was an oddity phenomenon that involved a vampire, I needed to do as much as I could before the sun set—it's good to have a shelter against every storm.

After all, I'd even nearly been torn to shreds by mummies standing on the boundary line of life and death, unclear whether they were living or dead.

If I was going to have to confront the vampire itself—well, since I was under Gaen-san's management, it probably wouldn't develop into a battle, but it would still be better if I could resolve things before Kagenui-san arrived.

As such, I followed my navigation and traveled from Manase University to the Naoetsu General Hospital using the shortest paths possible. After arriving, I called the number of Gaen-san's PHS that I'd gotten from her when we'd parted ways, and had her tell me where Kuchimoto-chan's hospital room was—I'd foolishly wondered if, now that a third victim had appeared, it would be better to put them all in one large room for the sake of convenience, but it seemed Gaen-san wanted to keep them separate.

Well, if those related to the female students (mainly their families) ended up sharing strange information, it could cause a huge uproar—it was probably better to deal with each one of them as its own separate case, with "cause unknown", under the pretense of confidentiality, so as to keep this terrifying supernatural phenomenon behind closed doors and not cause a panic.

Of course, there had to be limits to that, but...

"Hey, Koyomin. You got back pretty quick, didn'tcha?"

Next to Kuchimoto-san, who'd been changed into a patient gown and laid on the bed like the two before her, Gaen-san, who was placing some sort of charm (vampire-sealing?), turned to look at me.

"Did you solve the code? I'd be happy if you said you did. Something a little inconvenient happened on my end, so I'd love to hear some good news."

"Huh. It's pretty unusual for something inconvenient to happen for you while I wasn't there."

"Totally."

Though she wouldn't offer any details, it seemed something truly inconvenient had indeed happened—although, unfortunately, I hadn't been able to return with good news that could make up for that.

Thanks to Meniko, the code I'd been assigned had indeed been solved, but that didn't change the fact that I had no idea what it meant—of course, this was just an amateur's judgment.

Perhaps, if I presented Meniko's solution (decryption) to Gaen-san, a specialist, it would be something immediately recognizable for her.

"My friend, who's planning on majoring in cryptography, solved it in 10 seconds. It was actually a bit too quick to be satisfying, but it was a code that a high schooler thought of, after all."

But it wasn't a code that couldn't be solved.

I put the flash cards on the shelf by the bed and tried to make my explanation brief.

"'B777Q'. If we take it apart, it's made up of a 'B' and a 'Q' with three sevens in between them, but what characteristics do the 'B' and 'Q' have in common?—although, I shouldn't need to start showing off like that in front of you, Gaen-san."

"No, it's fun. Keep going like that."

Even if you encouraged me...

Well, I was happy that she was going along with my self-redemption, now that I noticed it. It seemed she had some good points, when I actually could speak to her like this.

"Well, to sum it up, for the capital letters 'B' and 'Q' that look completely different when written in uppercase, they end up becoming the same shape, but rotated, when written in lowercase as 'b' and 'q'—and, if we think of them having the same shape, then there's a pair of Arabic numerals that also have the same shape."

"That's true. I'm well-aware of it from playing Uno."

"Um, it doesn't matter whether you know about it from playing Uno or not."

It was "6" and "9".

And, as you can see, "6" and "9" more or less had the same shape as "b" and "q"—in other words, after substituting them, we could come up with the equation that "B777Q" equals "67779".

"B777Q" = "67779".

"Oho. I see, I'm following you so far. But what does the number '67779' mean exactly? Do you have an interpretation for that?"

"Though she's aspiring to major in cryptography, that friend, like me, is a mathematics student, so when she sees a number lined up like this, she's the kind of person that thinks of prime factorization first, you see."

"What an annoying kind of person."

"Indeed. However, without even needing to do prime factorization, it should be clear as day that we can split '67779' into three prime numbers. That is, '67/7/79'."

"How is that even clear as day? Something like that is fainter than looking at a ghost."

Gaen-san shrugged her shoulders as if she was astounded.

Even an onee-san that knew everything couldn't know this as thoroughly as a code maniac and a prime number maniac could.

"So? How do you interpret '67/7/79' next?"

Of course, without even needing me to explain what prime numbers were, Gaen-san sought out the next step of the decryption—she was certainly good at using people.

"Well, we had a step where we converted the alphabet into Arabic numerals, right? So it's an orthodox method of doing the opposite now and turning the Arabic numerals back to letters of the alphabet."

"Hm... So is it 'S/D/V'?"

She was sharp.

Yes... "67" was the 19th prime number when you counted from "2". Similarly, "7" was the 4th prime number, and "79" was the 22nd prime number.

"67/7/79" = "S/D/V".

"If she managed to figure that out in 10 seconds, then I can't look down on college students these days, huh. Well, I don't have any complaints so far, but I still don't understand what 'S/D/V' is supposed to mean. You still have more, right?"

"Yes... I'm sure you probably realized this, Gaen-san, but for every piece of a flash card, there's always a backside... In the same handwriting as the front side, the numbers '231' were written."

"I hadn't realized it, though. Don't overestimate this onee-san too much, because I'd hate to disappoint you youngsters. '231'? Since it's obviously divisible by '3', it's naturally not a prime number. Although, among the titles of Maurice Leblanc's works, I think there was something like '313'."

"Since it had been specifically written on the back side, we should take this not as another code, but a sub-key to use as a hint... That is, it could be pointing out the order."

"The order? So, we should take the three letters pointed at by the code on the front side, and put them in the order of '2-3-1', like an anagram? So basically, 'S/D/V' becomes 'D/V/S'..."

"S/D/V" = "D/V/S".

It was likely that, in order to give off an air of perfection, the code had been rearranged to show the three sevens, "777", and this was an operation to put everything back.

Even I thought that "B777Q" looked better than "77QB7".

Putting it all together...

"B777Q" = "b777q" = "67779" = "67/7/79" = "S/D/V" = "D/V/S".

That was it—I was happy that I was being overestimated with her saying "Araragi-chan, who's so much smarter than me", but really, Meniko, arriving at something like this was impossible for me.

However, for a code maniac like Meniko, her decryption only went as far as this—just because "S/D/V" was "D/V/S", it still didn't change the fact that it was completely meaningless.

We could only decipher up to here for now.

However, if Gaen-san continued to say, "I still don't understand. You still have more, right?", then I'd have to throw my hands up—but the onee-san that knew everything stayed silent.

"......"

Without pressing further, and without even stating her own thoughts, she put a hand to her mouth, quietly behaving as if she were deep in thought.

Was there an interpretation that a specialist could make, as I had hoped? Could "D/V/S" be some sort of specialized term used by specialists... For example, something like "Dracula vampire soulless"...

But, as if chiding me for thinking something so stupid, Gaen-san said, "This is indeed an abbreviation, but these are initials, Koyomin. For example—the initials of a name like, 'Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster'."

"D/V/S" = "DEATHTOPIA VIRTUOSO SUICIDEMASTER".

007

It was an awfully specific name to use just as an example, but it seemed as Gaen-san had no intention of explaining any further, as she said, "Thanks, Koyomin. It seems like we might have something to go off of now," cutting short the conversation with her gratitude. "Give your friend my thanks, as well."

"Ah, yes..."

If the leader wrapped it up like this with that much force, I couldn't exactly go against it... Well, the fact that Gaen-san wasn't explaining it could mean that it was better off for me not to know. At least, for now...

In any case, for now we could put aside the deciphering of the living message that the third mummy, Kuchimoto Kyoumi-chan, left behind... As for me, I was more curious about Gaen-san's gloomy face that she'd shown when I entered the room.

Something inconvenient happened. That was what she'd said.

That's why she wanted some good news.

Even though she had said thanks, it didn't necessarily dispel the gloom from Gaen-san's expression, so I wondered if what I had brought was not good news but bad news. However, I couldn't just pretend to ignore whatever inconvenient thing happened while I'd been out.

"It might have been a bit of an exaggeration to call it inconvenient. Or rather, if it's like this, then I should say I'm glad I called you in in advance, Koyomin... In a way, this is fate. Well, because of the cell phone straps, I was wondering if there was another point in common between the victims aside from just them attending the same school, so I did a little invasion of the girls' privacy."

"When you put it like that, it makes it really hard to understand what exactly you're a specialist of, Gaen-san."

"As a result, I uncovered a completely unforeseen fact. All three of them were a part of the same club."

"The same club?"

Ah, then even if they were in different years, it would still make sense for them to be connected by having the same kind of strap... Although, I'd never been a part of a club, so I'd hardly associated with anyone who wasn't in my year.

Then, it wasn't just Kuchimoto-chan and Honnou-chan, but even the first mummy, Harimaze-chan, that were connected by a common missing link—but what was inconvenient about that?

Wasn't that a good thing?

It seemed much more concrete than the information I'd gone all the way to my college to bother a friend for, and it seemed like a much better clue that would take us a step closer to the resolution of the incident...

"And that club happens to be the girls' basketball club."

"Ah."

I understood. I understood very well.

Because, even though Gaen-san had almost nothing to be afraid of, specializing in all sorts of monstrous apparitions, she happened to have a single weakness, an organization that reminded her of her older sister... The Naoetsu High girls' basketball club.

Gaen Tooe.

That was the name of Gaen-san's sister, the onee-san's sister, and that onee-san's sister's daughter's name was Kanbaru Suruga—currently a third-year high school girl at Naoetsu High, and the former captain of the girls' basketball club.

She was one of the few juniors I'd interacted with—more precisely, she was the junior of my girlfriend, but, anyway, the keyword "mummy" was something that really had a bad affinity with Kanbaru.

And even if that weren't the case, the Naoetsu High girls' basketball club was rather unique... It was on quite a different level for a club that was in that uptight university-focused school.

Even if there were no oddities, it was still an odd organization.

If all three victims were members of the girls' basketball club, then it seemed impossible to just pass off as a coincidence... Although it was also dangerous to assume that that was the source of the incident.

Though I didn't remember when, a specialist had once said this.

Oddities have their own appropriate reasons—indeed.

Even the vampire that sucked out my blood during my spring break as a 17-year-old had inevitably had her own reason for doing so.

And if it happened that this case was also inevitable...

"We'd have to keep digging into it, right? Um, so basically... It would be better if I was the one to do that, right?"

"Right. I shouldn't get any more involved with Suruga, after all."

That was probably what she'd meant by when she said she was glad she'd called me in in advance... Once before, during an incident that wasn't just oddity-related, but also vampire-related, Gaen-san had needed to make use of Kanbaru's "left arm", and had operated under a fake name to do so.

She'd needed to do that much, because it was that taboo for her to step on her sister's shadow.

Though she was someone that was fuzzier than Oshino, she was strict about at least that much.

"Not to mention, Suruga has lost her 'left arm' now—or should we say she 'recovered' it? Really, Kaiki did something so unnecessary. Because of that, I lost another one of my successors."

"...Thinking about what happened before, I feel the same way in not wanting to get her involved. But, well."

I looked towards the bed... The third girl to be mummified, Kuchimoto Kyoumi.

After seeing her dried-up form once again, I knew I couldn't say that.

"In the first place, since it's been a while since Kanbaru retired from the basketball club, so it could be doubtful whether or not she has any useful information."

"Even so, I'd like you to do it. Since she's sociable like her mother, there's no way she wouldn't know even a single one of her juniors—if possible, I'd like to get a list of all the club's members."

"Understood."

And, though I accepted it, I couldn't reject the feelings of reluctance that followed. Because no matter how much caution I took, if I came to her with a weird approach, then Kanbaru would be sure to recklessly poke her nose into these affairs... At the very least, I didn't want a repeat of the events of the previous incident.

I checked the watch on my right wrist, confirming that it was currently in the middle of 6th period at the high school—at this rate, it should be possible to meet up with Kanbaru before the sun set.

Unlike Meniko, since Kanbaru was preparing for entrance exams, it was probably better to set things up over text beforehand... Or should I just handle everything by calling her? Although, considering the circumstances, I did want to meet up and talk to her directly...

"Also, I may as well let you know what I've ascertained after going through her belongings, Koyomin. From the on-site inspection, I had come to the conclusion that this girl had to have been attacked by the vampire this morning, but it turns out that she'd become a victim as early as dawn of yesterday."

"Yesterday? Um, then... She was the third person to be discovered, but Kuchimoto-san was actually the second victim?"

"Yep. That's how it is. She'd been missing for almost an entire day—that's what I learned after contacting her family. Putting it all together, Naoetsu High first-year Harimaze Kie-chan was attacked in the evening of the day before yesterday—and, before daybreak, the vampire attacked another Naoetsu High first-year, Kuchimoto Kyoumi-chan. It's still unclear whether the vampire sucked her blood in that shack or the vampire sucked her blood and then moved her to that shack, but regardless, it was done in the night—as a vampire does, it took a break during the day after the sun rose, and when night fell again, it bit into the neck of the Naoetsu High second-year, Honnou Aburi-chan, in her own home."

The permutation had changed, but, if anything, it broke down the hypothesis, high-paced as it was, that one victim was formed per day—by now, it wasn't exactly good news to hear.

This vampire was quite a glutton.

"Speaking of which, didn't vampires need permission to enter the houses or rooms of others? The second... that is, the third victim, Honnou-chan—wasn't she discovered in the futon of her own room?"

"There are variations to that idea, so I can only say that it depends on the circumstances. There are times when that's the case, and there are times when it isn't—however, if the culprit was some extremely handsome man with a well-proportioned body and an annual income of 500 million yen, like Shishirui Seishirou, then there's probably no high school girl that would not let someone like him enter their room."

Well, I wasn't sure about Shishirui Seishirou's annual income being 500 million yen, but, well, that was indeed a truth, or perhaps divine providence... It was also possible that, as was conjectured with Kuchimoto Kyoumi-chan's case, the unidentified vampire sucked the blood of the girl in an alleyway, turned her into a mummy, and then carried her into her room after that... Although I had no idea why it would do something like that.

"Of course, there might be even more victims, so I'll keep an eye out in this town for more dried-up mummies, not just limited to the female students of Naoetsu High—really, it feels more like searching for an ancient civilization, instead of just an oddity story. It's fortunate for now that the search range is just within this town, but depending on the situation, we may need to expand it even further."

"...Would it help if we asked Hachikuji for assistance?"

If we were talking about this town, then that lost child had become this town's god, so she'd probably be aware of troubles that were occurring in town... It was possible that she knew something.

"Hmm. I wonder about that. There's certainly a high possibility for that, but since she's become a god, that means by now that she's firmly on the side of the oddities."

"I see."

I wouldn't exactly be able to deal with depending on my old friend and putting her in a dilemma between humans and oddities.

Even gods had their own positions to keep in mind—if I appealed to her using my friendship and ended up toppling her from the seat of a god, that lost child could end up falling straight to hell without getting lost on the way.

After all, the road to the Kitashirahebi Shrine had become a throughway to hell.

And that was something that—well, it didn't really pain me to say it.

"Well, in any case, I'll set up plans to meet up with Kanbaru for now. And while I'm at it, I'll go and clean up her room really quick."

"That's a pretty incredible task to just do while you're at it. My niece is really causing trouble for you."

Although she wasn't as bad as you.

Well, I suppose it ran in the family.

"What will you do now, Gaen-san?"

"Though I feel bad because you and the search party are all working hard, I'm going to borrow an open bed in the hospital and take a nap—since I'm going to have to be active at night. No matter how young I dress myself up as, at this age, pulling an all-nighter is rough."

Well, that made sense.

As long as vampires were nocturnal, you'd have no choice but to adjust your biological clock to deal with their movements—even sleeping was part of the job.

Incidentally, a benefit of my aftereffects was that I didn't need to plan my sleep schedule like Gaen-san—it didn't put too much strain on me if I lost one or two nights of sleep. My vampire constitution had been modestly useful during my exam period.

"Oh yeah, by the way, Gaen-san. What should I tell Shinobu about this case? There's no doubt she'll wake up once night falls, after all."

Like with Kanbaru, during the case of Shishirui Seishirou, Oshino Shinobu had also been put to work, but I couldn't say that that weak-minded little girl had been totally useful.

If anything, she'd totally gotten in our way.

Well, I could sympathize with her situation, so I couldn't one-sidedly criticize her for her actions, and I had no intention of doing so, but if this was going to revive her feelings of remorse from that time, then perhaps we'd be better off excluding her from this case from the beginning.

After being sealed in my shadow, she had become not quite a half-vampire and more of a half-slave, but she wasn’t the kind of person that worked the way I wanted her to.

"After all, since they're both vampires, it could end up being someone she knows. That in itself would put her in a dilemma."

"For sure. It could be someone she knows. That would put her in a dilemma," repeated Gaen-san, nodding suggestively. "Well, we can think about that while she's sleeping. For now, focus on getting as much information as you can before tonight."

"Understood."

008

As I stepped on the accelerator on the way to Kanbaru's house, I pondered the possibility that the note that had been jotted down on that flash card was not actually a living message.

"B777Q" = "D/V/S".

It seemed Gaen-san had come up with some sort of hypothesis, and I believed Meniko's decryption had been right—however, for a code left behind just before the victim was transformed into a mummy, I felt that it was a little too elaborate.

Because, even if the cryptography was correct, this wasn't a mystery novel... Perhaps Ougi-chan would be convinced by it, but if you were being attacked by a vampire, or some other bad guy, would you really have the luxury of considering what the 22nd prime number was, or thinking that putting the three sevens together as "777" looked better?

No matter how much of a hard worker she was at school...

To be honest, even for me, who I could only recognize as having made it into college through his math skills alone, counting the prime numbers wasn't something I could easily do in my head, especially when I was driving like this... And if I were in a panic from being attacked, I was sure it would be close to impossible.

Well, it would be possible if it were Hanekawa, or even Meniko... Perhaps we could leave open the possibility that Kuchimoto Kyoumi-chan was one of those rarely seen child prodigies, but looking at those blank flash cards, it was hard to see her as anything but a studious honors student...

Especially if she was a member of the girls' basketball club known for its intense training... It was the same for Kanbaru, but that club had a system where you wouldn't be able to keep up if you didn't do your duties.

In that case, perhaps it wasn't a living message, or even a dying message—wasn't it more appropriate to deduce that this was actually the "signature" of the "culprit" vampire?

Signature, a declaration of crime, a proclamation of war, a self-expression.

It didn't matter what you called it, but it supported the theory of it being "initials" like Gaen-san mentioned briefly, or maybe even carelessly—it wasn't that the victim left behind the initials of the "culprit", but that the "culprit" left behind their own initials in the hands of the victim?

As if—making themselves known.

...If that was the case, the first (for now) victim, Harimaze Kie-chan, or the second (to be discovered) victim, Honnou Aburi-chan, could have something hidden among their personal belonging that involved such a self-inflated signature.

Should I let Gaen-san know about that? No, if it was a possibility on a level that I could come up with, then there was no way that Gaen-san didn't already hit upon it... And even if she hadn't, it wasn't a hypothesis worth waking her up, when she was trying to recharge herself for the coming night.

For now, I would focus on my own duty.

And as I pondered, the New Beetle arrived at the Japanese mansion where Kanbaru lived... I hadn't completely gotten free of the appeal of bicycles, but in the end, cars were on a completely different level in terms of mobility—I barely had the time to guess at deductions while I was traveling.

As if working as parking attendants, my junior stood outside the open gates, still in uniform on the way back from school—but, oh? It wasn't just one junior that was there.

Next to Kanbaru stood another female student, naturally wearing a Naoetsu High uniform as well—by the color of her necktie, she was a third-year, but who was she?

"Let me introduce you, Araragi-senpai. This is my friend from when I was in the basketball club, Higasa. After I retired, she took over as captain."

In a somewhat rushed greeting, Kanbaru introduced her classmate and friend to me when I left my car—her friend, who had been the captain of the girls' basketball club until very recently. I see, so when I let her know about the general idea of my business over the phone, she'd made some arrangements.

What a capable junior. I was unworthy of her.

"It's nice to meet you, Araragi-senpai. My name is Higasa Seiu. I've heard rumors about you for some time now."

"Haha. I'm sure they weren't any good rumors, right?"

"Ahahahahahahahahaha."

I was laughed at in an almost unnatural way. It seemed they weren't good rumors.

"Come inside, Araragi-senpai. No point in standing around here. Grandpa and Grandma are out on a trip, so they'll be away until the day after tomorrow, but even I can at least make tea for you."

"Eh. Um, but, your room..."

"It's fi~ine. I already know about it."

Though I'd been in a panic, Higasa-chan spoke up as if in total understanding—it seemed my capable junior had a capable friend. I felt a bit of relief at learning that Kanbaru had a friend among her peers that could tolerate such a chaotic room—but, anyway, I didn't want to overstay my welcome.

The problem in Kanbaru's left arm had been resolved, and it seemed she was lively and in high spirits, so let's quickly finish up my business here and take my leave—before she found out that I was playing around with her aunt.

"Here, have some tea, Araragi-senpai. I haven't put anything suspicious in it, so drink up without any worries."

"You don't need to add that remark!"

"Ahahahahahahahahaha."

Perhaps she was just someone who simply got drunk on laughter, but it seemed Higasa-chan didn't particularly mind sitting with and relaxing with a senior she'd just met, in this room whose mess seemed almost like a lie—as expected of Kanbaru's friend, she sure was easy-going.

"No, no, I'm actually very shy. Unlike Ruga, who's so boorish."

Although she certainly didn't seem like it.

Also, so Kanbaru was called "Ruga" by her friends...

For a moment, I'd been about to lean into the description of my cute junior as boorish, but in terms of our relationships, Higasa-chan was much closer to Kanbaru than I was, so it would be weird to condemn her evaluation.

"However, Araragi-senpai, you feel like someone I've known for a long time, so it doesn't really feel like we've just met for the first time."

"Really, what kind of rumors are floating around about me...?"

She was speaking as if I was someone like Lieutenant Columbo.

"You were the only delinquent among Naoetsu High's graduates, after all."

So that wasn't just Hanekawa's own misunderstanding?

Aw man.

"Although, just from hearing the rumors, it makes me quiver with fear. I'm so awestruck, so please forgive me if I end up being discourteous in any way out of my nervousness. Oh yeah, and I want to brag to all my friends, so could I please have your number?"

She didn't even hesitate.

Attached to the cell phone that was cheekily yet amiably presented to me was a strap with the letters "S H" as accessories... Hmm, it seemed that she had still left it on even after retiring.

What about Kanbaru?

Ah, that's right, her getting a cell phone was something that happened after she met me—it ended up being like that.

"So... About the girls' basketball club."

"Yes, yes. I have the data prepared right here."

From her school bag, Higasa-chan deftly pulled out a file that looked rather thick—it looked almost like a class's attendance record, but considering the context, it was most likely a register for the club.

"Since I joined the club, it's always been Higasa that kept records of all our activities, you see. If it were me, I wouldn't have even thought to make a list like that, and even if I did, I probably would have lost it somewhere," said Kanbaru.

Indeed, seeing the wretched state of this room that I had cleaned just the other day, I could see that she wasn't just being modest to praise her friend.

Though Higasa-chan had retired after she'd become a third-year, she'd still been present during the recruitment for the club in April, as she seemed to be completely aware of the affairs of the current second-years and the current first-years—however, when I reflexively reached out, she suddenly raised her hands in a banzai and kept the register out of my reach.

Like a basketball player trying to prevent a steal—or not.

"What is it? Nobody said, 'put your hands up!', Higasa-chan."

"Yeah. We-ell, Araragi-senpai. I shouldn't even need to say this, but this is the personal information of a hundred high school girls, after all," said Higasa-chan with a smile, holding the register in the air.

A hundred?

I turned to Kanbaru—and she nodded.

Wow, so the girls' basketball club had a hundred members.

A hundred members just from the first- and second-years... So were there at least fifty from each year? With a concrete number being defined, it put me at even more of a loss than when we had hypothesized an unspecified large number of victims.

Gaen-san had said something like "two out of a hundred", but that should have been just an example...

Well, for a sports club that competed on a national level, it could even be considered a fewer number of people than usual...

"To be exact, it's not fifty from each year. There are 76 second-years and 24 first-years, for a total of one hundred," said Higasa-chan. "So, even if this was something I made personally, if word got out that I leaked something like this, it wouldn't exactly end well for me."

"Right. Yeah, that's true."

I couldn't do anything but agree—I knew that, as someone who'd already graduated, and as someone who'd been part of the go-home club with absolutely no relation to the girls' basketball club, it was from the beginning a rather selfish request to ask for a hundred girls' worth of names, addresses, and contact information.

"Yes. If that happened, my blood will be spilled."

She was probably joking, but just today I'd laid eyes on three mummies with the blood sucked completely out of them, so I couldn't exactly go, "Ahahahahahahahahaha".

"Yes. It's not something to laugh about. It's not just their names and addresses and contact information—it even has their height and weight and three sizes and whether or not they have a partner."

"I'm sorry to take up more of your time, but Higasa-chan, would you mind blacking out those parts for me?"

"Even though it wouldn't end well for me, if I handed these records over to that Araragi-senpai infamous for being a hentai..."

"Infamous for being a hentai?"

"No. I said Araragi-hentai, infamous for being a senpai."

If that was what you said, that sounded even more cruel.

Should I go to Naoetsu High starting now to try and fix my bad reputation?

"Higasa. Being a hentai is my territory. And don't act all buddy-buddy and have fun with Araragi-senpai."

From off to the side, "Ruga" demonstrated the narrowness of her dignity.

Really, I couldn't feel any star power from her at all... And yet, they still called her the legendary ace of the basketball club.

However, if her intention was to protect the personal information of her members as an ex-captain, then Higasa-chan surely would not have even bothered to bring the register to this mansion on Kanbaru's request in the first place.

"I see. Understood, Higasa-chan. If I want to get that register, then you're saying I have to defeat you in a game of street basketball, right?"

"Um, no, that's not what I'm saying."

So it wasn't that? But I'd already taken off my jacket.

"Rather than that, the reason I'm risking becoming a bloody mess to lend you this top-secret register, Araragi-senpai, is in the hopes that maybe you'll be able to break down the current state of the Naoetsu High girls' basketball club."

"...? The current state of the club?"

"Higasa. If you ask that much from Araragi-hentai..."

While I was tilting my head at the rather unsettling wording, Kanbaru rebuked her friend—you're also calling me Araragi-hentai, aren't you.

You absolutely can't lend out the personal information of a hundred high school girls to someone like that!

"No, no. Even you feel some responsibility for it, though, don't you, Ruga? For the girlsbas right now. Perhaps even more than me."

"That's... Ah, Araragi-hentai. 'Girlsbas' is just a shortened form of 'girls' basketball club', and, most assuredly, does not mean the girls' bath."

"Could it actually be you that's spreading around my bad reputation, Kanbaru-kouhai?"

In any case, it seemed that, even between the two ex-captains, they didn't share the same opinion. And hearing that much, I wasn't the kind of Araragi-hentai that would back down so easily.

Not to mention, if there was some sort of trouble in the girls' basketball club right now, then, surprisingly enough, it could have some connection to the cause of the current serial mummification incident.

"Let me know what's going on. After all, I didn't come here to ask for help without doing anything in return. If there's something bothering you, I'll do my best to help."

"I'm very happy you feel that way, but it's enough to have you come over to clean my room every week or so, Araragi-senpai."

"Isn't that actually more than enough, Ruga...?" said Higasa-chan, scowling as if saying, don't say things that will make it harder for me to rely on Araragi-senpai. She then turned to me and said, "It's kinda in big trouble, the girlsbas after we retired," in an informal tone.

Really, what part of you was shy?

"It's not really a matter of there being any specific reason, but the atmosphere feels awful... When I visited the gym to try and be senpai-like and have them let off some exam stress, it almost felt like I put more stress on them instead."

Perhaps it was because of that that this girl was joking around in order to not make the atmosphere around here heavy as well—if so, she had a pretty good personality... Kanbaru had been acting as if she was embarrassed by her friend's behavior, but really, what you should be ashamed of is the state this room is in.

"Does it have to do with them getting weaker? Like, they fell out of the golden age that had the two of you in it."

I probably should have chosen my words better for that, but as someone with a small vocabulary, I couldn't think of another way to express it—they got weaker.

Although, well, that could just be inevitable, in a sense.

In a sense, Kanbaru was just too extraordinary.

To be even called a superstar, she was a student that was far more out-of-place than I was at Naoetsu High, a private school that was university-focused...

"That's true. Since I just worked really hard at my studies to chase after Senjougahara-senpai who I yearned for so much."

"Incidentally, I'm a sports-minded girl who can study without even needing to work hard at it."

Higasa-chan boastfully puffed out her chest, still keeping both her arms raised.

Well, there were those sorts of people, too.

"But I don't think it's because they got weaker. If anything, I'd say that would be even better for them... But, the atmosphere turned bad."

"The atmosphere—"

"The girls' basketball club stopped being a club that's bright and fun with a sense of solidarity," explained Kanbaru, almost unwillingly, in a way that was very much unlike her. "They lost their sense of solidarity—and all that was left was a sense of collective responsibility. And, to be specific..."

Kanbaru Suruga paused, then continued.

"Out of the hundred members listed in that register, five of them have gone missing."

009

According to Higasa-chan, saying that they'd "gone missing" was a bit of an exaggerated take from my rash junior, but to sum it up, among the first- and second-years, there were five members who couldn't be contacted.

Surprisingly enough, I was already familiar with three out of the five names they gave—although it wasn't that surprising.

Harimaze Kie. Honnou Aburi. Kuchimoto Kyoumi.

I could understand up to that point.

Thanks to Gaen-san's deft manipulation of information, and perhaps even an embargo of information, the various mummified girls were being treated as having a "strange disease", so their matters weren't publicized—as such, the three of them were seen from the outside as absent for some vague reason, the actual circumstances imperceptible.

"Gone missing".

Up to that point, it was a pre-established harmony, in a sense, so it wasn't worth getting shocked or taken aback—the problem would be the fact that two more names were included in the group of "missing" girls.

It was a fact that I didn't want to face.

It was a bit premature to assume that both of them had already fallen victim to a vampire, but even if that wasn't the case, five students going "missing" was more than enough to be a huge incident, wasn't it?-although, that was just what I thought as someone who'd already graduated, but, thinking back to when I'd still been enrolled, I had to conclude that that wasn't necessarily true.

I'd already mentioned that I'd skipped class in high school a lot, but it wouldn't exactly be right to say that, at this university-focused school where people "going missing" was rare, everyone but me was an honors student.

If you wondered what happened to the students that couldn't keep up in class, that weren't suited to the school tradition of having the top standard score, that ended up falling behind... Well, in short, you'd say they—"went away".

They'd transfer, or they'd drop out.

Or, like Oikura Sodachi, they'd shut themselves in their own home—they "went away".

What Higasa-chan had said was certainly right, and a "delinquent that graduated from Naoetsu High" like me was certainly rare.

It had to be an exaggeration to say that I was the "only" one, but most of them didn't make it to graduation.

They'd go away—they'd disappear.

As if they'd never been there in the first place—so, at Naoetsu High, becoming "unable to see" a student was not an especially unusual affair.

What the school was turning a blind eye to was not the students that fell behind themselves, but the idea that the school even had students that fell behind to begin with. That was the reality—the real problem.

Well, it wasn't just Naoetsu High. All private schools probably wanted to avoid scandals like that...

But, in terms of the trouble occurring in the girls' basketball club this time, what was different about it was that it wasn't trouble that stemmed from the intensity of class or exams, but trouble that stemmed from training and teamwork.

"Ruga herself will probably deny this, but to be perfectly clear, Naoetsu High's girlsbas was a club made around Kanbaru Suruga, because of Kanbaru Suruga, for Kanbaru Suruga, after all... Even from when I joined, I proactively worked to lead the club in direction, as well," said Higasa-chan. "I don't think doing that in itself was wrong, and it was because of that that we could make it to Nationals, after all. The problem was that, even after Ruga hurt her left arm and had to retire, that arrangement ended up being passed down as is... At least when I was captain, I did my best to fool the club to somehow keep things going, but after retiring in April, it fell apart all in one go."

A goal that was too far, training that was too hard, peer pressure that couldn't be escaped...

Not a sense of solidarity, but a sense of collective responsibility.

"Sports isn't something people should be suffering through, so if it's that harsh, then I feel like they'd be better off resigning, though."

Since the club was formed around her existence, it was hard to deny it completely, but Kanbaru, who was usually a straightforward person, spoke instead with a weak tone of voice.

"Even if they did want to resign, they probably don't want to be the first to do so."

"That's something I can't understand."

"Well, of course you can't, Ruga." And, as if exasperated, or maybe to sidestep the subject, Higasa-chan said, "There were kids that did resign, of course. Not that they sent in with an official notification of their resignation, since they resigned after getting hurt during practice."

Higasa-chan made it sound like they got hurt on purpose to resign... And I couldn't say that I didn't understand how they felt.

Although I couldn't say it was exactly the same, when I'd been studying for exams, I'd been tempted by the idea of hurting myself in order to avoid tackling a problem set for hours on end—of course, because of my vampire constitution, it didn't actually go well, but I could only say that there had been something wrong with me at the time.

In other words, there was something wrong here.

With the girls' basketball club right now.

Because they'd lost the support of the Kanbaru era—or rather, they'd lost the core.

"So, we knew we needed to do something about it, so we had a meeting of the OG third-years and debated over what to do, and, well, it's not like we didn't try to put some of our countermeasures in action, but it was like they backfired, since over the past few days, more and more members have stopped coming to school—and because it looks like there are no problems on the surface, it feels even worse than it should be. Even the ones that are having a hard time feel a sense of fulfillment or get filled with euphoria when they reach a stopping point, so they get stuck in place. And if someone carelessly complains about something, everyone else gets together and enjoys criticizing that person."

"It's hard for us to change that structure from where we are, Araragi-senpai. Or rather, it's because our generation is the one that made that structure in the first place, so what they're doing is almost exactly the same as what we're doing."

"Yeah. The difference is just how they feel about it. ...Um, it's possible that maybe we were wrong to set that up in the first place. Our advisor, who'd lived in an age of corporal punishment and a prevalent pecking order, had given us the opinion that 'it might not fit the current generation, but it was still good in its own way', and we didn't want to ignore that. Well, from the day I joined to the day I retired, I'm pretty sure I had fun every day, right?"

Well, who knows.

It was true that it was hard to deny a process before seeing the results, but the undeniable reality was that, even if they said and did the same things, if the people doing those things changed, then the impression would also change—however, in that case, I could understand how Kanbaru and Higasa-chan felt, about how it would be hard to guide their juniors that were just imitating them.

"The school itself is keeping us from saying anything, so we were basically at our wits' end when you approached us, Araragi-senpai. I almost thought this was a godsend."

They must have really been at their wits' end if they thought being approached by a pervert was a godsend, but anyway.

It was true that the timing was good.

Considering the current era, if it weren't for this timing, I doubted Higasa-chan would've even told me about the register's existence—however, I still couldn't say if this was inevitable or just a coincidence.

If the trouble in the girls' basketball club had a direct connection to the vampire turmoil occurring in this town—for Higasa-chan, she probably would never have guessed that I was already busy trying to resolve that trouble.

"...Hmm."

However, I still stopped to think.

I stopped to compare things with my experiences from last year... or not. What I was actually remembering were the words of my classmate, Hanekawa.

At the time, she had certainly been having some trouble, even though she didn't show it. And Hanekawa Tsubasa, whose worries had driven her up to the wall, had thought, during her spring break as a 17-year-old, that she "wanted to meet a vampire".

It was an earnest desire [setsubou].

It was despair [zetsubou].

To meet an incomprehensible monster that could burst through the immovable walls of reality, of real problems, in a single blow—even after graduating from high school, the Hanekawa that had spread her wings overseas was like that.

In that case, was it really so farfetched to infer that the students troubled over their club and worried about their school life thought, in the same way, that "it would be so much easier if a vampire came an attacked me"...?

And if that strong, earnest desire—or perhaps, that strong despair—was the missing link that connected the victims.

I couldn't afford to not determine the whereabouts of the remaining two names that had gone missing—especially if they hadn't been mummified yet, but no, even if they did already have their blood sucked.

"I got it, Higasa-chan. I don't really think a blockhead like me can do anything about the delicate problems that girls face—but if you can lend me that register, I promise I'll do my best to make sure that no more members go missing among your juniors, at the very least."

"Just you promising that is enough for me."

And though I knew that my words wouldn't give any peace of mind, Higasa-chan still said that and lowered her arms that had been raised all this time, handing over the register to me.

"By the way, Araragi-senpai, do you have a girlfriend?"

010

Nervously wondering about what would have happened if I had said that I didn't, and feeling embarrassed at myself for allowing myself to be teased by a high school girl that I'd met for the first time, I once again headed back to the Naoetsu General Hospital.

I'd ended up feeling a lot gloomier as a graduate of Naoetsu High, but just from the results, I'd managed to obtain the member list of the girls' basketball club fairly easily, so I assumed Gaen-san would still be in the middle of her nap in preparation for the night, and I started thinking about how I might be praised for my quick work, but when I arrived, the specialist was already awake.

Didn't she only sleep for about 30 minutes?

Even though she'd said that pulling an all-nighter was rough, was this woman also a short sleeper, like other eminent figures were...? In any case, I returned to the first hospital room I'd visited that day, containing the mummy of Harimaze Kie-chan, first-year of Naoetsu High and a member of the girls' basketball club, and relayed the information to Gaen-san in much the same way as a carrier pigeon would.

"I see. You're really living out your youth, huh?"

Those were her first words.

Well, for Gaen-san, who was from a completely different era, and had never even attended Naoetsu High, that may be how it seemed.

As someone who'd known firsthand of Kanbaru Suruga flourishing as a versatile superstar, it honestly pained me just hearing about the state of affairs in the current girls' basketball club, but it was useless to try and have those feelings be shared by an unrelated third party.

It was surely the same as how, for a fresh-faced college first-year like me, the concepts of employment or marriage were something I still couldn't understand.

"That's a little upsetting to hear. Even this onee-san had a period where she was in her youth, you know? A youth spent with Oshino and Kaiki and Kagenui... And a youth spent with my sister. Indeed, just as how youth is written with the kanji for 'blue' and 'spring', it was a springtime that turned me blue with shock."

"...I'm very sorry about that."

However, it was absolutely true that I couldn't picture Gaen-san and company in their teenage years... Especially not a teenage version of Kanbaru's mother, Gaen Tooe-san.

"From what you're saying, Koyomin, so far, there's no evidence to conclude that this has anything to do with the girls' mummification, but there is equally no evidence to dismiss it as irrelevant, either. So the members of the girls' basketball team were feeling depressed, wondering why they had to sacrifice their studies and devote themselves to grueling practices, when the seniors that would aim that high were already gone—and perhaps the vampire was attracted by the darkness in their hearts. That hypothesis does have a certain degree of plausibility."

"Oddities have a fitting reason to their existence—right?"

"Well, let this onee-san that knows everything tell you that the period of time that Suruga was a member of the team wasn't necessarily a healthy and beautiful adolescence, either. Putting aside the other girls, it wasn't as if that niece of mine got faster for a positive reason."

Indeed.

The superstar hadn't been a superstar from the moment she was born. Rather, circumstances made it so that she had to become a superstar.

Because she made a wish to a monkey.

"Even if she was freed from that monkey, it doesn't mean she's been freed from the worries of her adolescence. Well, it's the fate of upperclassmen to be bothered by their underclassmen. We'll just have to roll with it in order to uphold the cheap promise you made, Koyomin."

First off, why don't we focus on searching for the remaining two "missing" members of the club?—said Gaen-san, deciding on our plan of action after riffling through the register I gave her.

"Of course, we'll also be confirming the locations of the remaining members, too. Kanguu Misago-chan and Kiseki Souwa-chan—both second-years."

"Hypothetically, if those two have already had a run-in with the vampire, then out of the five victims, there would be three second-years and two first-years."

Not that I could draw any conclusions from that, and I might have been getting ahead of myself considering their mummies hadn't been discovered yet.

But I didn't want to turn away from unpleasant possibilities just because the pessimism would bum me out—I wanted to think of everything I could, so that I could deal with the worst-case scenario.

3:2... That was the ratio of the club members.

"Oh yeah. Gaen-san. I only thought of this afterwards, but do you think it's possible that the living message that Kuchimoto-chan left behind on that flash card was actually the vampire's signature?"

"I'd say it's very possible."

It seemed that it was a possibility that she'd already considered, as she responded to my question in an instant—the initials, huh?

"D/V/S".

"However, there was nothing of the sort in the belongings of either Harimaze Kie-chan here or Honnou Aburi-chan in the next room. Of course, there were no living messages either. But if the 'B777Q' on the flash card is actually a signature, it would make more sense if a similar code was left with every mummy."

That was true... But for her to have already verified that—did this person really take a nap while I was gone?

"In Kuchimoto-chan's case, instead of being on a public street or in a private house, she was in an abandoned shack. Maybe the vampire felt that they could work leisurely without worrying about being seen?"

As I said that, I couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Without worrying about being seen? Work leisurely?

A vampire worrying about being seen sounded like some sort of slapstick comedy... In that case, it would make more sense that they had left a code behind with the mummies of Harimaze-chan and Honnou-chan, a code that didn't seem like a code.

"There are a couple more things that don't make sense, Koyomin. If you explain this as a vampire leaving their signature in much the same way an artist signs their name on a work of art, it's pretty hair-raising and very appropriate for an oddity story—but in that case, don't you think they would have added it to a work that they'd be more proud of?"

At least, they wouldn't be doing it on a failure... —said Gaen-san, looking up from the register and towards the mummy on the bed.

I see.

As an ordinary person, my thoughts came to a standstill when I lay my eyes upon such a gruesome mummy, but in the end, a mummy like this was something that had "failed" to become a vampire—no matter how much they longed to be in the limelight, there was surely no artist that would sign their name on a failed work.

Then, should I simply assume that it was just a living message left behind by Kuchimoto-chan?

"I did do a handwriting analysis. I compared the writing in red pen on the flash card with the writing in her notebook that I found in her bag—however, I couldn't come to a definite conclusion. There didn't seem to be any matches in the handwriting, but if they were scribbling it down while being attacked by a vampire, it would make sense for it to be messy."

"That's true... Well, in the end, whether it's a living message or a signature, it doesn't really matter."

"Although, from our perspective as the pursuers, a vampire that longs to be in the limelight is much easier to find, so that would be helpful. But anyway, as the commander, I'd like to give you a command to follow, Koyomin."

"Ah. Yes. What is it?"

The sun was about to set. Time was running out.

We were entering the world of the night.

It seemed that, after the reconnaissance and discussion, it was finally time to come up with a practical response to this oddity phenomenon—thanks to talking with Kanbaru and Higasa-chan, my motivation to solve the case had increased as much as my mood had decreased, but now, what did I need to do?

"I was really unsure about whether or not I should ask this of you... But it seems I'll have to after all. Koyomin. This is only something you can do."

Gaen-san spoke with a serious expression.

"I'd like you to hold Shinobu-chan back for tonight."

[porta-decumana]

Zadnor & Bozja’s Ending

I know it’s been the bandwagon to hate on Werlyt and I’ve been critical of that plotline in the past as well.  But Bozja may have just taken the cake for unsatisfactory storytelling, in my opinion, while also skirting into the same realm of “we’re gonna give imperialism a pass because maybe the Empire isn’t that bad uwu”.  Obvious spoilers for rank 25 quests, the Dalriada raid, and Bozja’s story ending under the cut along with screenshots.

This is a pretty critical look at Zadnor specifically so if you don’t wanna read that then feel free to bypass this post.

Bajsaljen’s Constitution was probably the first part that really made me scratch my head and question the entire plot.  I was convinced at first I was too sleepy to process what Bajsaljen was saying but then I went back and... yeah, he really did say that.

To which, Marsak calls him out on, a fact that I appreciate because my response was pretty much the same level of “wtf” as him and the nameless/dialogue-less NPCs in the room.

If you haven’t played Bozja in its entirety yet, you may not understand why I felt like this dialogue was incredibly appalling.  The instances are filled with horrific encounters, some of which are:

Dabog, a former Resistance soldier who was experimented on in order to become an expert warmachina pilot and later shows back up in Zadnor as a model swap for the final boss of Gyr Abania.  In other words, mutated beyond recognition.

Lorvo, another former member of the Resistance, who was tempered by the Queen.  You fight alongside his student, who is trying to save him.

Shemhazai, a death spirit summoned with auracite and the sacrifices of Garlean soldiers.

Delubrum Reginae’s 2nd boss (I believe?) are a group of former Blades who have been tempered and their bodies have mutated.  These are former comrades you, as the WoL, personally fought alongside in the early parts of the Southern Front.  Named characters with backstories.

Fabineau quo Soranus - a brutal commander that is known to torment his subordinates and use men and animals both as test subjects.  

And this is just a fraction of what I can think of off the top of my head.  So understand that when I saw Bajsaljen say the above parts, I was questioning what parts of the Empire he was talking about.  And I know he tries to use Misija as his reason for this but it still just doesn’t quite sit right with the literal everything else that happened fighting for Bozja.  Because you can make the argument that Misija saw the Imperial way of life better but also you can make the argument that she was enacting a revenge plan that transcended multiple generations.  Misija’s issue with Bozjan society was the mistreatment of her and her family as well as the murder of her ancestor-- classism.  And while her hatred of Bozja and its high society (the Blades) might be understandable, I think it does little to excuse the rampant death and cruelty the IVth legion goes on to do.

I think what Bajsaljen is trying to say is that he does not want to create another society that would create more Misijas. But in doing so, it feels like he’s giving the IVth legion a pass after all the atrocities they’ve done (even calling the occupation “peace” and that... hnghhh is it peace when people are being used as experiments, Bajsaljen?  And they’re being oppressed?) and it just feels really, really tone-deaf.  Especially given that Bajsaljen’s top soldiers were all, for the most part, tempered and then put to death.  That just adds an extra ouch factor.

I don’t wanna spend too long talking about this bit so I’m gonna move onto the next offender, which is Gabranth, or more specifically, what happens to Gabranth (or... how it happens, rather).  Honestly, I was uncomfortable with the Bajsaljen stuff but the Gabranth field notes absolutely floored me.  It feels as though there was either scrapped content here or... the team decided they could not continue the plotline with Gabranth any longer and decided to write him out in a note that only a handful of the playerbase will probably read because otherwise, there’s no indicator that Gabranth’s tale is over.  Here are the bits of the field note in question:

And you might go, “Wow, that’s a wild way to end the Bozja tale” to which I would agree and remind you that none of this is shown in-game, it’s all just in a field note that could be easily skipped over.  Yes.  That’s right.  Dalmasca’s freedom, Gabranth’s fate, Lyon going full mutiny... it’s all in a field note.  The ending Bozja cutscenes actually have dialogue like this:

In another scene, with Lyon and Gabranth in Valnain, Dalmasca.

Note: this is an allusion to Noah having the same terminal illness as his father.

The scene ends with Lyon looking surprised at the weapons and Sicinius and Gabranth go to discuss the findings.  The scene then cuts to this photo and the questline ends.

So to put it mildly... I’m mad.  Why are we supposed to find out the fate of Dalmasca-- something that’s been in and out of the story since Stormblood-- through a field note?  Why is Lyon’s betrayal also found out this way?  And Gabranth’s alleged demise?  I’m incredibly iffy on the choice to do this in the plot but I would be considerably less mad if any of this was indicated in the cutscenes.  I happen to really like Gabranth’s XII’s iteration and the fact that we got a field note on him made me excited.  I only found out about Dalmasca being freed, Lyon’s treachery, Gabranth’s death because of that.  And that was incredibly jarring to read given the cutscenes I had just watched.  There’s no indication that any of that would happen and I can’t help but feel as though that is a bit of lore that is often going to be overlooked by players who simply don’t think to check the field notes for important lore bombs.

I want to reiterate: I'm not specifically mad at the story decision to kill Gabranth (even if it’s a fake death), I’m mad at how this was all revealed to the players.  Particularly the bit about Dalmasca.  It discards the age-old rule of storytelling-- “show, don’t tell”.  I could forgive them for having to cut certain bits of Bozja’s story because of the pandemic severely hampering development but... there had to have been a better way than this.  Maybe redo some of the cutscene dialogue?  Maybe add in a little bit more to the final scene?  I was excited to face off against Gabranth.  I was excited to go help liberate Dalmasca, especially after the Return to Ivalice plot really set us up for that in the future.  This... just feels incredibly unfulfilling.  And I hope that this is not how they decide to end things with this section of the story.  The build from Return to Ivalice and the continuation of those plot threads in Bozja were great!  Having it unceremoniously ended in a field note?  Not so great.  

Two honorable mention things that I don’t have the energy to talk about at large

Mikoto’s visions don’t feel significant enough to the story.  This is particularly egregious in Zadnor’s arc, where she has a vision where she falls off an airship and then tells the WoL to not say anything because she “doesn’t want people to worry” instead of, idk, trying to find a way to save herself.  She only sees herself fall, she doesn’t see herself land.  But she insists there’s “nothing we can do about it anyways”.  It... felt like they didn’t really matter in the end?  Fran ends up deus ex machina-ing a rescue anyways so like... what was the point?

Misija's “redemption through death”, a tired trope that is even more tired in FFXIV.  I know there’s two different endings to this quest but Misija being executed after being mortally wounded by the Diablos Armament is the ending I received.

Going to harken back to the criticisms of Werlyt.  I’ll maintain my stance that I still think Werlyt had some glaring issues with it... but I will give it this.  It didn’t kill off characters from a side plot that had been going on since Stormblood in a field note.  And it didn’t involve the Werlytians being like “Hey let’s base our new constitution off of the VIIth legion... that is a great idea.”

Anyways, I still recommend doing Bozja if only because the Dalriada is a good instance with a very good final boss theme.  I did enjoy aspects of the questline but the ending really soured my opinion of it.  

[darkherolovercroissant]

Nyctophilia

(n.) love of darkness or night. Finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Angst & suicide

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the cold and damp air swirls around you and it touches the skin that was once warm, you feel a chill. You feel the warmth that spirals around just magically disappear, just like the ashes that were once the man who you were madly in love with. You never acted on your feelings because Bucky never seemed to be interested. He was a very touch starved individual, but never wanted your touch. He was seemingly against the way your fingers grazed his flesh arm because if even one inch of you touched his metal one, he’d flip out.

Steve always said it was because he never really believed he deserved a chance at happiness, but when you asked him if he ever wanted a chance he said yes, but not with you. You immediately began holding back and seemed to turn into a shadow in the night. You stopped everything and just seemed to ignore his existence. Steve was annoyed with how Bucky just straight up continued like it was a normal day, Bucky never saw much of you these days. It wasn’t until you walked into the dimly lit kitchen that one cold September night that your shirt looked too heavy on your frame and your cheeks were sunken in.

You no longer had any light left in your eyes nor shiny glow in your skin. Your hair looked dried and about to fall out for how rough it looked. You never smiled anymore and when Nat grabbed your arm the one day he saw you wince and let a tear slip down your cheek, She had unintentionally hurt you. Steve was worried and when it came time for Tony to fly out with Pepper, everyone had plans...except for you. You stayed behind and somehow so did Bucky. He watched as you stayed outside for three hours in the cold crisp November night. Your hair blowing in the breeze, your light and almost see through nightdress was the only thing that covered you. You sat in the field and watched nothing but the darkness surround you.

How you survived as long as you had was a mystery to the team. It was almost as if God and the Devil were not interested in seeing you at the time. You were with Steve down in Wakanda and teamed up with Wanda to help take down the threat that would be the main threat before Thanos showed up. You were such a sad sight to see. Ta’challa couldn’t even look at you without fear of breaking apart. Shuri was concerned as well as a near death avenger showed up for war. How the hell did you have plans on fighting when you were already fighting yourself.

Bucky was the target of numerous punches from both the King and Princess. You had Wanda poking inside your brain, but you were too weak and tired to fight her off. When that evil monster showed up and took the mind stone from Vision, you saw how this was gonna end. Thanos stood toe to toe with you, him looking at your shaking frame as he saw you about to die by your own hands.

“You poor little thing. The world hasn’t been so kind to you, has it?” He says with sincere sympathy.

You fall to your knees as he crouched down and lifts your chin up with his left hand.

“This isn’t your fight, little one. There’s nothing I hate more than a miserable creature, I think I’ll just end your suffering myself.” He says as he starts to use the power he had already from the gauntlet.

The power surrounding you and yet you didn’t feel anything. Thanos started draining your body when gunfire and the roars of thunder distracted him. Your body falls limp at his feet and when Bucky sees your body hit the ground, his eyes darken and he feels like the winter soldier takes over, of course Thanos snaps and all of a sudden he’s gone. Bucky starts running over to you and he sees your face just barely coloured. He starts to feel funny and as he takes one last deep breath, he calls out for Steve and as he turns around, Bucky is already dust.

————five years later————-

The time heist as Tony called it became a ideal plan. They were going to redo every failure leading up to Thanos. They were going to bring back the half of the population that was taken by Thanos.

“Nat. You and Y/n will be getting the soul stone.” Steve says

Nat smiles at you and grips your hand tightly.

“We’ll see you in a minute” Nat smirks at Steve.

——

“What is this place?” Natasha asks as you head further to what looked like an edge.

“So this is Vormir?” You mumble as you approach the end.

Nat grabbing your hand as you looked over the edge.

“Nebula mentioned that Thanos took Gamora here. She said while Thanos left here, Gamora never did. The soul stone is from here. In order to receive the stone, a soul of something you love must be gave in return.” You say as Red Skull was floating around you two.

“Precisely, young one.” He says

“Nat. One of us ain’t leaving here.” You say as she looks at you with glossy eyes.

“I know who it’s gotta be, y/n. However I don’t want it to go down like this.” She sniffed the damp air.

“Nat! They are depending on us. I don’t like this either, but we need that stone before Thanos comes for it.” You say

As you turn to walk towards the edge, Nat grabs your arm and throws you behind her.

“Nat, what the hell!?” You were annoyed

“You have a future, don’t waste it.” She says

“No I don’t. The only future I wanted was something that the world made sure I’d never have.” You whisper

“You are the backbone of the avengers, Natasha. I’m just some girl who was acquired from S.H.I.E.L.D.” You say

She pulls you into a hug and you saw the window of opportunity closing. With quick thinking you managed to jab Nat with a temporary paralysis shot and as she fell you looked her in the eyes and smiled.

“I’m tired of fighting, Nat, I’m done hurting. Make sure you win.” You smile before you run and jump towards your death, Thunder erupted above Natasha signaling your end.

As she arrived back in the compound, Tony and Steve almost screamed when only Natasha came back. She was in tears and passed the stone off to Bruce before storming off. Heading into your old room, she noticed an opened notebook on your desk.

November 3rd.

How can sunshine possibly come from our darkest times?

Skipping through the notebook, Nat found depressing journal entries that made her fall to the ground. You were this depressed and the fact that she didn’t even do anything, must of felt like the worst betrayal ever. You truly were tired of hurting and you were beyond exhausted.

———

Portals opened everywhere and everyone who was ever dusted, came back to help kick Thanos to the curb like the trash he was. Bucky was so excited to see you again and finally admit what was bothering him. Only to see Nat look at him during the battle with pity and continued on fighting leaving him with concern.

You had found relaxation and comfort within the darkness and it was time for you to become one with it. You were tired of fighting yourself and it was the best thing to have happened to you.

After the battle, Bucky couldn’t see you anywhere. Rushing over to Steve, Bucky almost threw up due to stress.

“Where’s y/n?” He begged for an answer.

The dirt and blood covered the air as Steve looked at his feet.

“I’m sorry, Buck.” He whispered

“Where is she?” He demanded

“Bucky!”

Natasha called him over and Steve helped him before offering him his shoulder to cry on.

“She sacrificed herself for the soul stone. She’s the reason we got the stone before Thanos could.” Nat says

Bucky felt the gun drop from his hand and the air get sucked from his lungs. You didn’t actually do that...did you?

“What?” He was so broken and yet angry at himself for doing this. He wanted you, but he didn’t deserve you. Tony walked over and placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“We didn’t know what was going to happen, Bucky.” Tony said as Pepper and him walked to a portal. Wong opened a different portal all for Bucky and as soon as he walked through, he was inside your room. Noticing your notebook pile, the very newest but still old notebook that remained open caught his eye. It was opened by Nat to a very specific date.

August 29th

The day I discovered that I was in love with Bucky was the best day ever. I remember being like a small school girl all over again. He constantly swims through my head at the worst times and always makes me happy. I really love him and I honestly don’t know how I’m going to tell him.

September 13th

That feeling of purity is now tarnished. Who knew that my crush would turn out to be something so stupid. Who was I to believe that the world would ever treat me the way I wanted to be treated. I was stupid to believe that I had a chance with him. Being told straight to your face that they can’t see you as their source of happiness really takes your confidence away.

September 20th

Who knew something like this could ever hurt as bad, ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t. I just am so tired of being this sad. I’ve been sitting out in the darkness for weeks and it’s honestly the only time I feel safe and appreciated. No one is there to make me miserable and no one is there to talk. I finally can express how I feel without rejection. The darkness is my sense of comfort.

November 18th

It’s been hard lately, but I’m doing better. I felt like talking to Bucky again, but I just realized that it’ll only be pointless. I have completely lost my feelings for him, I’m done hurting. I’m done fighting.

November 28th

Vormir was brought up and I heard about how Gamora was sacrificed to get the soul stone. I can’t imagine how poor Nebula was taking her sisters death. I can only hope it wasn’t painful, because in the short time I knew her...Gamora was one of the nicest people I could’ve ever met.

If you’re reading this

I know it’s stupid to leave notes, but to whoever sees this, if I’m not there, well then my plan worked. I’m so sorry to everyone I left behind. I never wanted to say goodbye, but it hurts to fight for something you don’t want to fight for anymore. I wish you guys all the best and I hope that whoever sees this realizes that I’m in a better place and that’s simply all I ever wanted.

Bucky sat on your bed as tears fell down his cheeks. You were the tiniest bit of sunlight in all of his darkest days and he failed to tell you how much you meant to him. Now the one person who made him feel something was making him feel everything. He closed the notebook and laid on the bed and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t deserve you darling.”

As that night hung over the sky, Bucky made his way to the field and sat on the grass and let the darkness comfort him as the emotions just escaped him like lost souls trying to escape hell.

“I wish to be where you are.” He whispers as the cold and damp air dance over his skin as he welcomes the mystic touch of nature.

[ponkho]

Dimitry's Notes

because I need it and because Lore

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

There's 5 gods in the Continent + Aunt

Darrleeyia (she/her)

Silver (he/him)

Yohan (he/they)

Makani (they/them)

Morgan(a) (any pronouns)

Aunt Amber (she/her)

The Continent doesn't have a name but people from the Continent itself call it "Dasihanigan" (literally, it's just the names of the gods mashed together like potatoes lol)

People from outside call Dasihanigan "the lost continent". (They're not actually lost but-)

Maxwell was a gif from the god of nature and spring, Yohan, to Dimitry.

Maxwell is not a real Red panda. But he changes his appearance to fit the world outside of his land.

The gods never say their first name, they prefer to forget it and look only to the future.

All the gods represent some kind of magical element. like:

Darrleeyia: fire

Silver: Ice

Yohan: Nature (earth)

Makani: Wind

Morgan(a): water

Silver and Dimitry never got along very well.

When Dimitry came to Dasihanigan Darrleeyia called a meeting with all the gods to know what they would do to the kid. 3 gods decided to keep him in the Continent and Darrleeyia would raise him as her apprentice and son. Silver was the only one who disagreed.

Dimitry had the whole village befriend him in just 5 days.

When Dimitry was bored he used to mount a horse and run around in the fields

Dimitry used to play a game called "catch the lantern" with the other kids of the village of Darrleeyia's territory.

"Catch the Lantern" was a game were all the kids had a staff and the one who starts the round uses the lantern in their belt, the objective is catch the lantern with the staff and stay with it as much time possible. Each minute that pass with someone that has the lantern in their staff gets 2 points, to win they have to gain 20 points, when you catch the lantern you get 1 point, when you lose the lantern to someone else you lose 1 point. The person who starts the round with the lantern in the belt doesn't lose or gain any points when the lantern is taken from them. (I don't have idea if this kind of game exists, bcs I had this idea in a dream)

The Continent has territories:

-Darrleeyia's territory is a golden field, her castle stays in the middle of the village.

-Yohan's territory is a forest with a secret village in the middle of it, Yohan doesn't have a castle, in fact, he lives in a tree.

-Makani's territory is on floating islands. Makani lives in a cave on a mountain of one of the floating islands of their territory

- Morgan(a)'s territory is on a underwater city for all the sea creatures, from a mermaid to a little starfish. She lives on a cave close to the city.

Dimitry had a best friend called Diana.

Diana was also his first love :3c

Darrleeyia has a sister called Amber.

"Aunt Amber" on Dimitry's vocabulary.

Darrleeyia has a phoenix as a familiar and usually asks the bird to watch over Dimitry when he lived there.

Aunt Amber used to explore the world and usually came by to Dasihanigan to keep in contact with her sister, in one of the visits she met Dimitry and when he was old enough he went on a adventure with her.

Aunt Amber did not die with the plague on Vesuvia. Before the plague even was there she decided to find a new city for her and Dimitry explore together, but when she came back he was already dead.

Amber and Dimitry would stay away from Dasihanigan for 6 Phoenix crossings (6 years basically)

Silver had a vision that Dimitry died on that adventure, and he was right.

After Dimitry's death Amber stopped to explore and stayed on Dasihanigan with her sister.

Also after Dimitry's death: Silver became even more aggressive.

Every single ship who dared to enter the protection wall was killed on the most brutal ways by Silver.

Silver keeps heads and skulls of the adventurers who went too far in rocks close to the protection wall as a warning of what he's capable of.

The protection wall can stays up for 3 years before it's needed to redo the ritual.

After Dimitry's death, all the gods fell on depression and locked themselves on their castles/sanctuaries. The people are still trying to lift the spirits of the gods, even if just a little bit.

Every Phoenix crossing Darrleeyia is seen at the beach watching the waves. They say she still has hopes Dimitry's alive and will come back.

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

This is just notes so probably some things will be changed here and there and I'll add more too. ┐( ∵ )┌

[obeymestudentcouncil]

Could I request a scenario/headcanons where Lucifer supervises MC with sub Mammon. Like he shows them how to “train” mammon properly and rewards them for doing well 👀

SOrry this took so long, turned into a full fic.

Training (Mammon x MC, slight Lucifer x MC)  18+

“Again.” You jumped at the feeling of Lucifer’s crop smacking into your shoulder. “Those knots will tighten as soon as he pulls on them. Your responsibility to him is to keep him safe. Now do them again, the way I showed you.” He stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, the crop hanging loosely from his fingers as he watched you untie the knots around Mammon’s wrists. You knelt by the younger demon’s head, moving carefully as you reworked the rope as Lucifer had shown you.

You sat back, holding your breath while Lucifer checked over them again. He turned to you; “Acceptable. It’s always better to redo them as many times as needed to make sure you don’t injure your partner.” He glanced down at his brother. “And what safe-word did you choose?”

Mammon scoffed. “The Great Mammon doesn’t need- OW!” You couldn’t help but wince at how loud the crop sounded on the underside of his arm, the welt already rising. Mammon was letting out a stream of curses. “Dammit, what’d ya hit me for?”

“You’re proving your stupidity is why. For tonight we’ll keep it simple; red is the safe-word. And if you keep that language up unnecessarily, we might teach her about gags tonight too.” You watched the exchange silently, nodded in acknowledgement of the safe-word. Lucifer stepped back, motioning for you to join him. Obliging, you stood up and went to his side, tipping your head up for the kiss the eldest pulled you into. “We can begin whenever you’re ready, but letting him sit and wait it out for a while can be it’s own form of torture.” You were pulled closer as he dug his fingers into your ass, and you heard a small whine from the direction of the bed, making your lips curl into a smirk.

“I see what you mean, but I do want to start.” Lucifer nodded, leading you back to the bed, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the crop, but not letting your hand go. Together, you trace the crop down the underside of Mammon’s arms. He twitches and tries to shift away, and Lucifer moves your linked hands to swat Mammon over one nipple, making the man grunt. Again, you began running the crop over his body, becoming hyper aware of Lucifer pressed close to you.

“You see,” He murmured. “It’s all about leaving him off balance.” You swatted Mammon across the side. “Hard strikes, soft ones. Sometimes…” Two swift strikes to a thigh. “Quickly, other times leaving him waiting. The anticipation is half the fun.” His hand leaves yours on the crop, both hands going to pull your shirt up and over your head before tugging your pants off, leaving you in your underwear, a faint blush on your cheeks at Mammon’s hungry gaze travelling across your body. You glance at his boxers, seeing the definite tent in them, making your blush deepen. Lucifer gives you a warning tap on your hip. “Don’t stop just because I’m not leading your hand. This is your show now. Show him you can give him this.” He breathed in your ear.

You hand started moving again, small circles over his stomach before another strike on his chest. Mammon grunted, his hips jerking. You looked up and met his eyes, smiling as you struck the opposite nipple from earlier. Looking at the red marks beginning to litter his skin, you lick your lips. Climbing onto the bed and straddling his thighs, you bend down to press kisses to the ones on his chest, leaving deep red lipstick stains over each, making Mammon groan and Lucifer chuckle.

“Don’t pamper him too much yet, you want him begging for you.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back up against his chest. One finger curled under your chin guided your head back so he could kiss you slowly. You can feel Mammon’s thighs flexing under you, trying to dislodge your mouth from his brothers. You flick your wrist, a soft tap on his abdomen as you pull away. Lucifer smirks as he glances at his brother. “You can hit him harder. We’re not as fragile as humans; he can handle it.” You try experimenting, striking the underside of his arm with more force, Mammon’s hips bucking and a low growl rumbling in his chest.

You take your time, working him over to the quiet encouragements from Lucifer, the older demon’s voice gradually dropping to a growl, and when you glance at him you can tell he’s not as unaffected by the scene in front of him as he had been letting on. You look at him questioning and he shakes his head, coming close to you again. “Don’t worry; you’re doing fine.” One of his hands skims down your spine and into the back of your panties. “Don’t stop,” He commanded softly. You keep moving the crop over Mammon as you feel Lucifer’s hand grip your ass, sliding lower to begin rubbing over your wet flesh. “Mmm. She’s enjoying this as much as you are Mammon.” He grinned wickedly over your shoulder at the other man. Your hand starts shaking, the crop nearly falling out of your hand as you feel one of his fingers slide inside you, curling as he pumps it in and out. Then he stops. “I told you not to stop, if you want to be ready for him keep going.” He growls in your ear, nipping at the lobe.

Taking a deep breath, you keep the crop moving, your free hand resting on Mammon’s abs, nails scraping over the skin lightly. Moans started falling from your own lips, joining the grunts Mammon let out with each strike, hips moving under you even during the waits. Finally he broke. “Argh! Just fuck me already dammit.” You smirked, leaning over to tweak a nipple at the same time as Lucifer swatted his thigh hard. He scowled, looking away with a deep blush. “Please?”

You grinned, moving off his lap. You handed the crop back to Lucifer, bending down to pull Mammon’s boxers off as Lucifer slid your own underwear down your legs. You crawled back up Mammon’s body slowly, reaching between the two of you to guide him to your core. You lowered yourself slowly, rolling your hips as your bodies met flush. You closed your eyes, setting a slow pace, wanting to prolong this part. You heard Mammon tugging on the ropes, grinning without opening your eyes. “Oh no, we’re not rushing this part.” Your eyes flew open when a moment later your world spun, finding yourself under the grinning demon. He snapped his hips forward sharply, making your arch your back with a moan. “How? LUCIFER!” You turn your head, mock glaring at the demon standing off to the side holding the ropes.

“Rule number one with us; we can always get out of conventional binds.” The eldest said nonchalantly.

You wanted to retort but Mammon turned your head back to him, meeting your lips in a bruising kiss as he started thrusting in earnest. You tried to reach up to run your hands through his hair, but he grabbed your hands, pinning them to the bed over your head with a growl. “My turn. You’ve had your fun.”

Mammon’s head was pulled back sharply by the hair, making him hiss as he glared at Lucifer, his hips stilling. “And you’re being lazy. You wanted to fuck her, do it. NOW.” There was a loud smack of the crop and a yelp from Mammon before he started moving in you again, pounding even harder into you. You arched your back, unable to keep up, feeling your walls clench around him, the warmth building as you rapidly approached your climax. He let go of your hands to lift your hips, hitting even deeper as you dug your hands into the sheets, your moans cutting off in a long groan as you came. Mammon finished moments after, pulling out to come over your lower abdomen and thighs. He dropped to his elbows over you, both of you panting heavily.

Lucifer appeared at the corner of your vision, passing a pair of warm rags into your field of vision. “Get yourselves cleaned up and get some rest. You both did well. You have some promise, you’ll be excellent at this if you continue lessons.” He smirked again before walking out of the room, the door clicking closed behind him.

You cleaned yourself up as Mammon flopped bonelessly onto the bed next to you. You smiled softly as you took the second rag and cleaned him as well, his hand on your wrist as you went to remove the lipstick stains on his chest. “Leave those. I like ‘em.”

[hellyeahomeland]

Name: Julie (@julieshreds)

Answered on: 4/7/20

1. What is your idea of a perfect Homeland ending?

First of all, neither Carrie nor Saul die in the end. I want Carrie to find some peace. And Saul too. Somewhere far away from the CIA and this spy business. Hopefully they can start a life after and be happy.

2. Which Homeland character do you most identify with?

I haven't thought about this yet as I don't watch shows to identify with characters. But, speaking of Homeland, I like to work in the background and do technical stuff. Guess that makes me be Max!?

3. What has your experience as a fan of the show been like?

Quite a journey. It started with being a “normal” fan, then a fan in the streets of Berlin watching them film the show and now I'm a member of the coolest Homeland blog around. :)

4. What is a moment on Homeland that made you sit up out of your seat in awe or shock?

I remember sitting on the floor in front of my TV and there was this woman in the new TV show I just discovered. Carrie Mathison, who got kidnapped by Abu Nazir in that old industrial building, got me addicted in a second. Claire Danes' acting, which I didn’t know at this time, the suspenseful atmosphere, that was something special on TV back in those days.

5. If you could have the writers redo one storytelling decision, what would it be and why?

Change the end of Quinn's story. Instead of season 6 with the long suffering it should have been over in the end of season 5. Watching the downfall of Quinn was not enjoyable at all, although Rupert Friend was phenomenal. 

6. If you could be a Homeland character, which one would you like to be?

Carrie Mathison. In the field, having this vision of saving the country and beating the bad guys, lol.

7. What is your favorite episode of Homeland?

There are so many good episodes! Half of season one, two, four and eight... It’s good when it’s suspenseful and the character chemistry catches you.

8. What is your least favorite episode of Homeland?

“Tower of David.” Too much Brody, too little Carrie.

9. If you could bring back one character, dead or alive, from the Homeland graveyard, who would it be and why?

Fara. Losing her in the embassy attack broke my heart. She just got on the job and gave her best. 

10. What will be your most enduring memory of Homeland? 

Meeting many wonderful and interesting people, lots of fun discussions, making friends, and becoming a giffer!

[calligraphist-artemisia]

I’ll Take Her Place (Chapter 27 - Final)

Summary: AU. When Allura breaks the news that she is to wed Prince Lotor in order to continue the peaceful relationship between Altea and Daibazaal, Pidge knows that she has to do something to change that. And so, with a little help, she comes up with a new plan. A better plan

Rating: T Pairings: Keith/Pidge (main) ; Shiro/Allura (minor) and Hunk/Lance (minor) ; one-sided Lotor/Allura

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the username kishirokitsune

-

Here it is, the last chapter.

It's been a blast working on this for the last year (and 5 months), and I'm both sad and excited to finally be here at the end of it. Thanks to everyone who reblogged or liked these chapters along the way.  You guys kept me going more than you know.

Be sure to check the end notes for news about the sequel, and a link to a poll where everyone can vote on what I should work on next!

Chapter 27

There were days when Katie found it hard to believe that it had been a year since they found the Red Lion and obtained the proof they needed to lock Lotor away for good. A full year of training with Keithir, strengthening their bond into something unbreakable, and growing as a team until finally Voltron made his first appearance in ten-thousand years.

She tried to steady her breathing as gentle hands wove metal flowers into her hair, which she'd let grow out to her shoulders. There was someone else brushing makeup onto her face, carefully applying more until they were satisfied with her appearance.

Katie could hear someone sniffling and didn't need to open her eyes to know who it was. “Matt, you'd better not be crying, because if you are, then I'm going to start crying and then they'll have to redo all of this.” She gestured to her face and accidentally bumped the makeup artist, luckily not messing anything up. “Please don't make me late to my own wedding.”

That at least got a laugh from her brother. “Mom and dad are going to be so much worse when they get here. Which should be... any tick now?”

Hands finally left her hair alone and someone else, most likely Nilani, stepped up to make sure her dress was properly in place.

“Makeup's done.”

Katie finally opened her eyes, blinking against the light as the Altean servants backed away and stood nearby in case they were needed again. “How do I look?”

Matt made a show of contemplatively looking her up and down before smiling at her fondly. “Relax, Pidge. You look beautiful.”

“My face feels heavy and weird.”

“It's just for a few hours,” Matt reminded her. “Nilani, tell her she looks great.”

Nilani stepped into Katie's field of vision with all four hands on her hips. “It's the best work I've ever done! And you look very nice too.”

Katie couldn't help but grin at Nilani's brand of humor. The half-Altean had figured out months ago the best way to put Katie at ease and enjoyed using that to her advantage if it meant she didn't fidget as much.

“Are you ready to see?”

Katie's nerves returned, but she nodded anyway. She took Nilani's offered hand as she slowly turned, watching her feet to avoid stepping on the hem of her gown. She took a deep breath as she raised her head and looked at her reflection. “Oh...!”

The gown fit perfectly, snug against her skin without being too tight. The bodice covered her whole torso and tied in the back, while a lace overlay covered her from the neck down, but left her arms bare. Katie wasn't sure where Nilani found a subtly iridescent lace, but she loved the effect it gave of green turning to purple and then back, and set against plain white gave it an elegance she hadn't expected. It seemed fitting for her marriage to Keithir.

The front of her skirt fell to her ankles, giving her the peace of mind that she wouldn't step down on it as she walked, while the back was long enough to brush the floor. She didn't see herself doing much dancing in it, but Nilani assured her that there was a simple solution.

Katie reached up to try and adjust the fabric of the lace cape that attached to the front of her gown and draped back over her shoulders, but Nilani pushed her hand away and fixed it herself.

“Now, you are ready!” Nilani said, beaming at her.

She was ready.

Katie stood tall and proud as the door slid open behind her. She half turned to face her guests and tried not to start tearing up at the sight of her mom and dad. It was a battle she lost as her mom gasped and clutched Sam's arm.

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful!”

Katie hopped down from the podium, no longer caring that it would take extra time to re-fix everything. She had to hug them both and bask in the fact that her whole family had made it for the event.

Everything soon became a blur as her family was ushered to their seats. Katie's face was patted dry, her makeup surprisingly undisturbed. (“Tearproof,” one of the Alteans said with a grin.) Nilani fussed over the gown one last time and then she and the two Altean servants helped her through the halls.

Katie's heart raced as she stood in front of the ballroom doors, waiting for her cue to enter. Her mind was a whirlwind of thought as she tried to remember her vows and all of the tips she'd been given on how to keep her nerves at ease, but she couldn't recall a single one. She stood there for a moment, too paralyzed to move.

“Just breathe,” Nilani reminded her. “Focus on your prince and breathe. Nothing else matters.”

Katie breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled.

The double doors opened before her.

Nilani's advice was the furthest thing from her mind, but that didn't matter. The moment she saw Keithir standing at the other end of the room, his red armor pristine and his crown correctly affixed on his head for once, everything else faded away.

He was all that mattered.

Katie walked to him, her cape floating behind her, which probably meant she was going too fast, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Keithir took her hands the moment she reached him and she beamed up at him, earning a small smile in return. Their affection and love flowed freely through their bond.

Everything was the way it was meant to be.

The End

Coming Soon: Across Time and Space

Summary: Slav shows off a piece of experimental equipment, when it malfunctions and blasts Katie and Keithir to another universe. At the same time, it drags Pidge and Keith over into theirs, effectively swapping places. With their fate resting in the hands of Slav, will they be able to get back home? Or are they stuck to live the rest of their lives in the wrong universe?

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And here is the poll, so you can vote on what I should work on next! ( https:/ /goo.gl/forms/d55U3Ekb7L3aJjXm2 ) I will close it once I've finished writing Across Time and Space.

[osmw1]

Crowbar Nurse   Chapter 1 — Prologue: Travelling Between Worlds Because of my Phone is Normal, Right?

I am a nameless rookie nurse.

My hobby is clearing my mind with video games. In particular, mindless zombie shooters and dating sims that I can enjoy while yapping off with friends are my favorite genres.

… well, it’d be more accurate to say “was”. I ended up being employed by an awful hospital, even though I was super careful with my applications. But because of that, I don’t have any spare time to play my games. I was way above the legal overtime limit but yet, here I was working for free.

Let me go home already… I can’t think straight anymore…

I was tapping away at an outdated computer in the nurses’ station and doing today’s documentation.

The location is Shinjuku. The time, wee hours. A hellhole of a hospital ward with a window to the night outside. The nurses of this ward start their day way too early and end their nights dizzyingly late. Even when neglecting my hunger and hygiene, I can get only four, five hours of precious sleep a day. Such are my circumstances when working hours are this long.

I haven’t really done anything at all lately. I don’t have the time to game or hang out with my friends… the only thing I’ve done other than work is scrolling on my phone…

I silently sighed inside.

Society thinks us nurses to be huge flirts, headstrong, and highly paid. I’m sure there are some out there who are like that. … not me though. I’d say I’m the complete opposite of that.

When I was a teenager, I played games all day and cared too little about looking pretty, leading me straight down the path of being a loner. By the time I did care, I was a university student busy with studying and practicum. Outside of school, my girlfriends and I would be in stupidly high heels and partying like there was no tomorrow.

Though I like talking with people, I was always too timid for my own good. Not only did my seniors always yell at me, I also have literally zero experience in relationships. … I suppose faking it and going to clubs did get me attention from shallow guys, but the thing is that I have never been popular with the opposite sex. That’s why I can’t stand people who are blessed with confidence.

… I’m completely twisted. I know. I’ll probably end up in my thirties with everybody saying that my standards are too unrealistic and no one interested in me…

I sighed out loud this time. And as for the highly paid part? That’s probably not true for me as well. My take home pay is a little over 180,000 with more than 100 hours of unpaid overtime. Still, in this “Land of the Setting Sun”, that’s probably considered well-paid.

There are all sorts of nurses, y’know?

I’m neither well-paid nor well-versed in relationships. I’m just a sham who loves her zombies. I had once prided myself on my love for nursing, but the soul-sucking work as of late led to the flames of my passion burning out. I’m simply a lifeless drone.

Ughhh, I need to let loose and wipe out some zombies… I can’t stand working anymore…

Shoving those memories aside, I begrudgingly returned to recordkeeping. Now, let me describe what a day for a newbie nurse with no time for fun or zombies is like. After five hours of sleep, I wake up and head to my ward. I look up the details of the patients I’m in charge of on the piece of crap computer. Once that’s done, I make sure all the medicine and IV drips are good to go. After handing off things to the night shift, I begin making my rounds. There’s not even a moment spare to get water or go to the washroom. Even when working such a long shift, I say goodbye to lunch breaks if it gets busy. It doesn’t matter your level of seniority, you effectively get only five minutes. If it’s bad, it’s closer to 30 seconds… I fly into the break room, stuff my face with food, and eat it while walking back to the desk. Then, I get back to logging or preparing for the midday debriefing. I’m sure… I’m sure other places are like this too. In every hospital is a ward this depressing.

… oof. Crap. Nearly fell asleep there.

That moment of microsleep was most definitely because of sleep deprivation. The steady chime of the patient monitoring system and the clattering of keyboards from other nurses working overtime fill the room. I glanced at the watch I had stuffed in my pocket—12:30, later than usual.

It’s past midnight already, eh? Still, even when everybody lives around here, Shinjuku at night is still a little dangerous.

Even then, none of us dayshift nurses have gone home yet. That’s just how things work here. I casually looked up from my PC.

Colorful neon signs and lit offices contribute to the dazzling lights in the nightscape. It shone through the window across the hallway from the nurses’ station. Low-intensity aircraft warning lights dotted countless skyscrapers. The red lights on top of the buildings were like a constellation twinkling together. Its beauty never fails to take me out of reality.

 … though I may be sleepy, even at this hour, the streets were not. The lights revealed everybody who was still awake.

Until I started working, I never knew the nights of Shinjuku were created and supported by people like me—the slaves to society.

 People are used and discarded every day to maintain this beautiful dazzling world.

… and just as that thought floated across my mind, my view of the night sky worrisomely fluttered for a moment.

 Hmm…? That’s weird.

I couldn’t tell whether my vision was blurry or that my head wasn’t functioning properly. Though what was very clear was that I was far too tired. Then, I got lightheaded for a split second. As soon as it passed and I breathed a sigh of relief, I clutched my chest in pain.

 I’m going to die… oh yeah, I’m totally dying.

As my heart stabbed with every pulse, I took a deep breath only to find my head spinning again.

… frankly, I’m not doing so well.

This has been a frequent occurrence lately. I hold back the wave of nausea as I struggle to form sentences in my head… then suddenly, the exhausted head nurse rushed over to me in a panic.

“—the management is coming around! Hurry, hide yourself in the linen room!”

Once I realized the head nurse was shouting at me in a quiet voice, she stood me up by my shoulders. And before I knew it, she shoved me into the linen room at the far end of the nurses’ station and slammed the door shut.

… ah, not this again…

I subconsciously sighed. This happens every day in our ward. Basically, it’s to conceal the fact that us newcomers are forced to work overtime. If the head honchos of the nursing department find out, they would chew out the head nurse.

The directive of this sweatshop of a hospital is supposedly to eliminate overtime and, officially, newcomers aren’t forced to do so. That’s why when the head of the department swings by, us newcomers get spirited away.

That’s fine and all, but… damn it. The computers automatically logout after 10 minutes of inactivity, so there goes all my unsaved data…

Looks like I’ll have to redo everything, which means I’m stuck here until at least 1:00. I squatted down and subconsciously sighed again. Guess I don’t have much of a choice but to sleep until they come get me. As I shut my eyes close in exhaustion, I felt a strange vibration coming from my pocket.

 … huh? A notification? I thought I turned off my phone…

I doubted myself as I reached into my pocket. When I took a look at my phone, the screen was pitch black but oddly enough, some text was showing.

… hmm, what’s that? Is that English?

The excessive number of symbols made me question whether it was really English or not. It may have been pitch black, but it was just bright enough that I could tell the screen was on. That and the green text showing clued me in on that.

… what’s all this about? Did some super hacker breach my phone? Wait, are there people who hack smartphones in the first place?

I looked down at the screen in confusion… hmm? What? Hold on… The green text scrolled past at a blistering pace. The line practically disappears as soon I tried to read it!

 “… what?!”

I was fully awake when I reflexively cried out loud but was still too late to cover my mouth shut. The directors should have still been out there on their patrol. I hope they didn’t hear me.

Whaaaaaaat. Huh?! Augh! What’s going on?!

A scene of pure sci-fi unfolded in front of my very eyes. Talk about a complete one-eighty from my depressing daily life.

No, seriously, am I being hacked? Is this what it’s like? This looks more like magic to me though!

Unfortunately, a Neanderthal who can’t even do basic addition on Excel like me had no idea what was happening. I don’t get it… but I knew that this wasn’t supposed to happen.

sudo…? apt-get install? Hey, hey, hey, hey! Don’t go installing anything weird on my phone without my permission! It’s now asking for a password… and it’s being filled in!

My eyes went wide as ••••• popped up in the password field.

But… I didn’t even do anything…

I was speechless. Then, while my jaw was still on the floor, the door violently swung open… as someone came barelling through.

■Protagonist

The protagonist is a super overworked rookie nurse who was on the verge of dying. Once you get her on the topic of zombie games, she'll yap on for even longer than the intro to The Final Countdown—though it's not an opportune moment right now.

contents: /ch001/ /next/

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