#WHAT ELSE IS THERE IN THERE THERS NOT THAT MUCH THAT I CAN RECALL STARTING??????

[kadavernagh]

Paint Me Like One of Your French Gulls || Regan & Metzli

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The beach PARTIES: Regan and Metzli SUMMARY: Metzli has insisted to a very skeptical Regan that they're quite the artist. And though Regan normally wouldn't care, the dead subject matter is hard to resist.

Metzli was an odd one. If Regan had any right to think that. Gull scapulae, fish vertebrae, one long and very dead jellyfish. She could feel them by and under her feet, discarded by the ocean in a delightful collection where the waves met dry sand. As tempting as it was to get started on finding something worthy of an artistic rendering, that would have been rude in a way she actually cared about. The others wouldn’t have tolerated that. Beginning a search for bones, for death, before everyone arrived. It was one of the few pieces of etiquette in Saol Eile that made intuitive sense to Regan. 

She didn’t have to wait long, though, as someone was approaching from across the beach. There was no one else here, in this rather private location, so she determined this person was likely Metzli. The bag of presumably art supplies made that even more likely. It was also immediately obvious both by their gait and silhouette that they were lacking an arm. Interesting. Not something to ask about just yet. And then, something more interesting – the creeping sensation that crawled along her arms and the nape of her neck as Metzli got closer, like death twisted into something perverse and wrong. Regan stood, straight and still, watching them, waiting. “Metzli, I presume. Dr. Kavanagh.” She didn’t extend a hand. “You didn’t happen to pick up something along the way, did you? Something dead.”

It didn’t take long to find the spot Regan had selected. Her directions were clear and succinct, guiding them until they were right in front of her. Metzli had no experience with doctors, but that seemed on par with the occupation. Dealing with ailments and medication had to require that kind of attention to detail, but that was all just hearsay as far as Metzli was concerned. They thought perhaps Regan would provide some sort of proof. Under a cloudy day, no less. Metzli had brought an umbrella just in case, but it looked like they were in luck.

“Yes,” They replied, bowing at the waist gratefully. “I am Metzli Bernal. I look forward to painting—hm?” Standing straight, Metzli tilted their head and arched a brow. They couldn’t recall picking anything up, and even if they had, how would this stranger possibly know? And since that wasn’t the case, Metzli wondered if she was sensing them instead. “I did no picking up of dead thing.” They looked back to where their car was. Had they hit something? No, that wasn’t it. “What are you speaking of? Do I smell?” Which was absurd because Metzli always took special care to shower daily. “I am confusion.”

Confusion? Confused. Didn’t matter. Their accented English made it clear it wasn’t their first language, and even Regan had enough respect not to make a correction unless asked for. She’d had enough of that herself – despite many in Saol Eile having English in their repertoire, most chose to use Irish Gaelic first and foremost, and it took years before she could consider herself fluent. Even now, she felt some invisible pressure to use it more than she had been. There hadn’t been any reason to since fleeing. 

“No,” Regan said, hesitating, “you don’t smell”. That wasn’t it, not really. But it was too abstract, too difficult to explain, and Regan had gained an unfortunate understanding that much of what she’d experienced was beyond the ken of the average person. She wished she were among them again. “Did you bring everything you need? I’m interested in seeing how well you can capture the likeness of something so beautiful. Come, we should find a model for you to paint, don’t you think?” She eyed them cautiously, not trusting the bristling against her skin, but saw no ill-intent on their face. “Do you have a preference? Size? Animal? There are so many to choose from, right here, and right now…” Her fingers itched to start pulling prizes from the sand. “The dreary weather is unfortunate. Your subject would look more magnificent in the sunlight.”

A sense of relief blanketed around Metzli, glad to see Regan didn’t press much further. Whatever she had sensed didn’t dissuade her from the promise of making a beautiful painting. It was the one thing Metzli had been looking forward to for days other than seeing Leila at night. “Yes. Everything I need is in my bag.” They finally said, looking at the shoreline with a robotic serenity. The land was beautiful despite the drab weather the lack of sun caused. With Metzli’s talent, they knew they didn’t need it anyway. The piece would come out perfect. 

“No preference. You are expert. Will only be more beautiful if you pick the subject.” Metzli paused, watching as the reverence in Regan’s eyes grew. That in itself was a gorgeous moment, and they were intent on memorizing it for a future piece. If the two were to become friends, maybe she’d enjoy the moment etched on paper forever. “Will still look good. I assure you.” Placing their equipment down, Metzli walked closer to Regan, looking over to her. “I will follow as you are expert.”

Expert. Oh, how she’d missed that word. Regan had spent years dedicated herself to academic pursuits, becoming a phenomenal physician, but it had all been torn away from her in moments. And in her new world, she was so far from being an expert. The others reminded her, every day, physically and verbally. She gave Metzli a nod of acknowledgement but suppressed a smile. “That I am. I’ll find us something awe-inspiring. Though aren’t they all…” Regan trailed off in a mumble, looking down at the sand as she walked in no particular direction. She could feel them, so many of them, and yet there would always be some mystery. Perhaps just like Metzli. 

There, this was the one. Between Regan’s feet, several inches below the sand, was something radiating elegant, flowing waves of decay. Regan took a deep breath, taking it in. “I’ve found our subject.” She knew, even before she pulled it up. Better put gloves on for this, she thought, stretching the nitriles over her hands. “One moment,” she said, turning back to Metzli, who had – true to their word – dutifully followed her as she’d trailed across the beach, much further than she’d realized. Regan sank her hands into the sand, letting it flow through her fingers, and allowing the prickling on her skin to guide her. She weaved between a couple of shells, some sea glass, and finally found their model: half of a sea gull, with one wing and its feet torn off by great force, glossy eyes, and the bottom of the right rib cage exposed to the elements. Each remaining feather was full of intricate detail to appreciate. She breathed in again, this time really smelling it. The sand protected the carcass, somewhat, but she estimated it was no older than 4 or 5 days. “Here it is,” she said, cradling the dead, ragged sea gull, “the perfect model.”

Metzli trailed behind Regan in silence, admiring the way she all but glided above the sand. She was in her element, experiencing pure bliss and fawning over each being that had passed. It was beautiful. Strange, sure, but who was Metzli to judge? They enjoyed her peculiar hobby, though it felt offensive to call it that. It looked like death was her entire world, so deeply ingrained in her that she couldn’t help but follow whatever force guided her. The beauty was so great that the powerful smell of decay didn’t distress Metzli’s senses. 

Instead, they all but welcomed it, almost able to see the beauty Regan saw. Her eyes sparkled with life, a stark contrast to what was in her hands, but her admiration seemed powerful enough to give life. And maybe it was. Metzli definitely felt something warm their chest for a few beats, and then it was gone. “Yes. It is perfect. You have exceptional skills in searching. It is my turn now.” Looking for the perfect scenery for the background wouldn’t be nearly as difficult as the subject, but Metzli was picky. 

Looking down the shoreline, Metzli’s brows bounced with intrigue, enjoying a formation of rocks that Regan could sit on. “Over there,” They pointed, “Find seat and I will grab supplies.” 

Their turn to look? But she already found – then Regan looked over at Metzli, and took in what they were doing. Scanning, searching for something special and particular just as she had done moments again. For a second, Regan even humored the thought that Metzli might have appreciated the dead gull in her hands almost as much as she had. But if the last five years made anything clear, it was that that was all but impossible. Still, Metzli appreciated something Regan couldn’t quite grasp – their surroundings. She wasn’t even sure she would have noticed if the tide had come in up to their ankles, she was so engrossed in her find. So Metzli could tell her where to go, what light to set the remains in, what to do. She would concede expertise to them now.

“What do you see?” she asked them, squinting across the intertidal zone. She even stood on her toes to see better, despite the clear view. Was it… the rocks? “Oh, a seat… certainly. But what about…?” She looked down, her gloved fingers caressing white feathers tinged with dry, brown blood. She didn’t want to put it down. Could she really trust that Metzli wouldn’t befoul it in some way? Regan sighed, approaching the rocks Metzli asked her to sit on. She didn’t set just yet, instead watching Metzli open up their bag and begin questing for the materials they felt the moment called for. “How much did you bring?”

Before the materials could be retrieved, Regan had grown curious herself, causing Metzli to stop in their tracks. Eyes scanned the land, surveying it with an artist’s gaze, finally landing back on Regan. “I see perfect background for perfect subjects.” Deciding that was enough information, Metzli returned to their task and grabbed their bag, marching back to Regan, who looked a little more than confused. Their instructions weren’t exactly clear, but they thought they were enough. They mentally shook their head, making a note to be clearer in their words.

“You hold remains. Must stay still. Can you do that?” Metzli said, unzipping the bag and first taking out their easel and canvas. They had stretched it themself, carefully and lovingly piecing it together for that particular piece. It was something they did for every piece. The canvas had to complement the work, every piece had to be connected. “I brought all my brushes and my best set of oils. These ones make best texture. Make piece have more dimension.” They clipped their palette on their easel, looking back to Regan once again. “Would you like help with posing or will you pose self?”

The eyes of an artist were a curious thing indeed, and Regan didn’t truly understand. She had long accepted that it would be part of this world that was beyond her – appreciating the fine arts in more than a straightforward, literal way. Some of the others were different; they had room in their strange lives for the arts, even allowing it to be a bright spot in their servitude-filled days, but Cliodhna had other thoughts. She honed in on Regan’s dedication like a bird of prey and swooped down. There had been no room for other pursuits so long as she was around, and Regan was just fine with that. But how alien this all was.

“I understand,” Regan nodded, still caressing the remaining wing. “I will sit with the remains.” And she did just that, setting herself down on a flat part of the rocks, the bird draped over her lap like it was born to be there. Decompositional fluid dribbled down her pants, leaving a wet patch in the sand by her feet. She allowed herself one huff to appreciate the humor of being asked to stay still – having it questioned if she could. “I won’t move an inch unless you tell me to.” But that didn’t include her eyes, and as she watched Metzli unpack a rainbow of different paints and brushes, something thawed instead of her, just a little, appreciating their dedication. And the fact they were here at all, true to their words. “I’ll pose however you want me to.” Regan suddenly felt a tad awkward. Had she sat wrong? Was this not sufficient? Surely the remains would be radiant no matter what, but Metzli had a… vision. And she would comply with it, within reason. 

The thought of touching Regan wasn’t ideal, touching most people wasn’t. She was smart though, right? Metzli hoped pointing and speaking were enough. Their eyes flickered to Regan’s, noticing how she adoringly glided her thumb over the subject’s wing. They had a feeling the portrait would be a masterpiece. All Regan needed to do was adjust her hand ever so slightly. “Raise right hand and let it fall naturally,” They kneeled in front of Regan, hovering where her hand should go on her thigh, but never touching. “Now cross heels, left over right, and then sit straight.” 

They looked to the horizon line, finding one last adjustment. “Raise chin a little.” They mimed the movement, tilting their head as they watched. When she was perfectly placed, Metzli rushed back to the canvas and set to work, outlining the scene with their pencil as quickly as possible. Live subjects never stayed in place too long, always growing tired far too soon for their liking.

“You will be able to move soon if you need to. I sketch outline. Better if you do not, so colors and shadows are accurate.” Metzli paused, picking out a color and mixing it before applying it to the canvas. The silence was nice, peaceful even. Regan had been the closest thing to a perfect subject that they’d experienced. They wondered if she would also require something as awful as small talk, but that didn’t seem to be the case. That was a relief.

Regan both understood and did not understand the instructions. She knew how to let her hand fall and she knew how to sit straight. What she didn’t know was why it mattered right now, why they needed her so still. But as Metzli’s eyes fell over her – remarkably kind despite their oddities – the pieces started fitting together. The painting wasn’t just going to be the dead sea gull. No, Metzli intended to paint a scene, with her in it. Regan’s mouth dropped open as she tried to search for words. No objections came. But it didn’t feel right. “I wasn’t expecting – I mean, I didn’t think –” But Metzli was already delivering new instructions, and Regan obeyed, straightening out her sweater in the process, and not really knowing how to back out of such a thing or if she should. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let Metzli determine how to best proceed with their art. After all, if things got out of hand and the carcass was disrespected, she’d be right here to address such behavior. 

“I will stay still, like one of my decedents,” Regan finally said, agreeing to whatever this arrangement was. And though her lip curled at even the thought of the word magic, it was an apt word to describe the relationship between a true artist and their theater of work – meant far more figuratively, of course, than the use that word saw in the rest of the town. Would speaking make things more difficult? She didn’t want to give them a hard time. So Regan did as she said she would, staying still and studying Metzli right back with just her eyes. She couldn’t help but think that they had an especially difficult task ahead of them with one arm. But she wouldn’t ask, not yet. For now, she was content just watching the magic.

It had been an hour since Regan had been requested to sit still. Metzli didn’t see her move, and if she had even moved an inch, they certainly didn’t notice. Truly the most spectacular subject they’d ever had. They wondered if Regan’d be open to more sessions, more moments captured on canvas. Even if she wasn’t, Metzli wouldn’t push. One time was enough. One time was an honor in and of itself. 

“Nearly done,” Metzli said, finally breaking the silence between the two. They pushed their detail brush down, gliding a perfect line. It was thin and precise, perfecting the shadow of the wing against Regan’s gloves. Stepping back to both inspect and admire their work, Metzli nearly smiled. It had been far too long since they reflected their eyes onto canvas, creating a near-perfect copy of the sight in front of them. Of course, as with any piece, there were some liberties with color and light, but their choices only enhanced the scene. 

“Okay,” Metzli looked back to Regan, stepping to the side. “You may move and come see if you wish.”

Time passed quickly, especially because watching Metzli work promoted relaxation – or at least as much relaxation as Regan was capable of. The dead bird probably helped, too. But just as she enjoyed watching other medical examiners conduct autopsies (provided they did things absolutely correctly), she also enjoyed watching other experts engage in their perfected craft. And though she couldn’t see what was on the other side of the canvas yet, something inside of her knew it was going to be beautiful. It was the care Metzli placed in each stroke, and the way their eyes settled over even the smallest of details, like the leg draping down or the stray feather that had detached, dropping down by her feet.

And finally, just like that, it was time. Regan’s eyes widened at the invitation, and she hesitated, knowing that once she moved it would be impossible to settle back in precisely the same place, in the same way. “You’re certain?” Ashe asked, just to check. But Metzli had stepped aside, and was waiting patiently for her to come admire their work. She couldn’t deny that. Carefully, she set the bird aside and approached Metzli, once again ignoring the way her skin tingled around them. What she saw was worth it. The carcass was beautifully rendered, sunlight added to gleam off the exposed flesh, and each feather its own masterpiece. Regan’s jaw dropped as she soaked it in. But then she looked at her – painted with an equal amount of care, but inspiring something else inside of her. She closed her mouth, suppressing the roiling feeling in her stomach. Don’t think about it. Just look at the bird. It was easy to get lost in its beauty again. “Metzli, you are an impressive talent. But of course, you’re aware of that.”

It was too often, especially in childhood, that voices go unheard. With so many out there, crowding together in a mess too loud to discern, it was easy to get lost. Or worse, be told not to add any more echo to the waves of sound. Sit still. Be seen and not heard. It was why Metzli took to painting so easily. Without a voice, they would transfer thought to paper, and bring to life everything they ever felt with each stroke of their pencil. And later on, paint.

Little by little, Metzli learned that not all language contained words and they found they could speak many. Each medium had its own linguistic flare. Anyone could understand if they simply looked. That’s exactly what Regan did. Her eyes lingered as if she was in a moment stuck in slow motion, and she was willing it to pause. Yes, art speaks when you can’t, and if someone was willing to listen like Regan had, a different piece altogether was created. 

“I am glad you like it, Dr. Kavanagh.” Metzli bowed their head respectfully, closing their eyes as they inhaled the moment. “Still needs drying but I can frame it for you if you wish. Pick special wood and carve it. Complete the piece. All free. It was pleasing to paint two perfect subjects.”

“Like it?” Regan asked, her voice sincere, “I more than like it.” The others would have even found that permissible. They weren’t supposed to take a strong liking to material things, anything that Death could remove with such swift ease, but bone-inspired art was a notable exception. And paintings in their likeness. So many of them were self-important. Regan flinched internally again thinking about the fact she was in this painting, too. Metzli’s offer was generous, but could she really have a portrait of herself hanging up on her walls? She hardly recognized that face. “I…” she hesitated, unsure how to explain her need to decline the work of art. She didn’t want to insult them. It wasn’t them or their art. “The place that I live is supposed to be devoid of distraction.” Her gaze traced over the beautiful work. “This is eye-catching, you know. I don’t think it would work.” She looked over to Metzli, hoping not to see a dejected expression. 

The uncertainty in Regan’s spoke volumes, her explanation only a small addition. Metzli understood, took no offense to the objection of their offer. Their walls were also meant to be devoid of distraction, the teachings etched into them throughout their time with Eloy. “Okay,” Metzli gave a solemn nod, thinking of a few ideas. “You do not have to take. But…” Something came to mind, a tool they used to prevent the fading that came from exposure to all sorts of lights. “ I may have solution. I can make a special cover fitted for the frame. You have it but with cover it will not be distraction.” They tilted their head, “Does that work? Not bad thing if it does not. I can keep, but you work for this painting. Found perfect subject and you model.” 

No offense seemed to have been taken by Metzli, but Regan couldn’t help but think there was a tinge of disappointment in their voice. She wanted to shrink inside of herself, but such thoughts weren’t allowed. She needed to be better. She would be better. “A cover?” Of course Metzli didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, that it wasn’t merely about distraction. But they had done so much, and – wait, did she owe them? Cliodhna would have chided her for not realizing it sooner. Perhaps she could settle their score by taking the painting. It didn’t have to even be hung up. What had she done to deserve such kindness from a stranger? “Fine, yes, I will accept the art. It– it really is lovely.” She looked at Metzli, the sensation of death falling over her once more, and nodded. That still lacked an explanation. But perhaps Metzli stepped on a mouse or something and didn’t realize it. 

“You’ve been an acceptable companion today – an unexpected one, despite our planned meeting here. I don’t have anything for you today. I’m sorry for that. I would like to pay you – after all, you worked harder than I did.” But it was time they parted. This was the longest Regan had spent around someone who wasn’t deceased in months, not counting Reilly. How did goodbyes work again? She certainly didn’t make any before moving here. Regan stood up straight, shifting the weight between her feet like there was sand in her shoes. There wasn’t. Slowly, she extended her hand and gave Metzli a hard but not unkind stare. “You are skilled, Metzli, and I have spent days doing far worse.” Thank you.

Well, that was a quick change. Regan declined one second and then accepted the next? It was confusing, to say the least. Was she taking the painting out of pity, or was she trying to convince herself to not take it, and all it took was Metzli pushing? Hm…they thought it was best if they didn’t ask. Those kind of questions were meant to remain unsaid, never to be answered. “I will frame it and have everything ready by the end of the week.” Carefully, Metzli placed their brushes aside and began capping all of their oils while Regan praised their companionship. They had half a mind to do the same, but she was speaking enough for the both of them. 

“Same. People talk too much. You do not.” Metzli set their equipment down and faced Regan, noting the subtle goodbye in her tone and needing to object to payment. “No. I do this for work but this was for fun. Was honor painting beauty.” Just before they bowed their head, Regan unexpectedly extended her hand, offering the worst thing. Internally, they groaned, but if anyone deserved a handshake, she did. “Thank you for your compliment.” They grasped Regan’s hand firmly, “Please travel safe home and I will contact on web when this is ready for pickup.”

Regan couldn’t argue with that – it was an honor being in the presence of such beauty. She looked lovingly upon the bird once more, noting the presence of some new green bottle flies that seemed to agree with her. They always had impeccable taste and timing. “There are worse ways to spend one’s time.” She stared down at her hand, waiting, wondering if it was a mistake, but finally Metzli accepted the shake. And with it came a jolt, pins and needles scurrying up her arm and then down her spine. “Oh–” It was not the gentle embrace she felt when clinging to the gull or any of her bones, but something stranger, corrupted, and she didn’t like it one bit. And, she realized, Metzli’s hand was cold. Or at least not as hot as everyone else’s. There was something wrong, but she maintained composure, simply pretending she was shaking the hand of one of her decedents. That was a better thought.

But when she looked up, there was only Metzli. A disquieting reality. Regan withdrew her hand from the cold enigma of Metzli’s touch, stepping away. She couldn’t take that oh back, but she could leave before she needed to offer an explanation. Quickly. The strange sensation only grew stronger as the distance between them shrank. “No thank you is necessary, really – ever. It’s never necessary. And you know, maybe I should get going. It’s windy. And we were already saying goodbye, I think, so I’m just going to –” And Regan departed, but not before scooping up the dead gull, splashes of decomposition fluid dripping from it and marking the sand as she sprinted away.

[s4turns-r1ngs]

HOLY SHIT THERES A NEW YEARS THING IN MY DRAFTS

has it really been that long what the hell

[thatsthetriick]

Jjba characters switching bodies with their s/o

Summary: Body swap with their s/o! Some freaky friday shit! :D, It’s basically a work of a stand! ;), yeah all my inspiration is from the movie ‘Your name’ I rlly love that movie sm made me cry huhu, if u haven’t watched it srsly watch it its gud Disclaimer: Body swapping, possible pervertness from characters lmao, all characters are aged up! gn! reader, and mentions of killing from Dio's headcanon Header photo:  Namaikizakari

Part 3 Characters body swapping with their s/o + DIO

Joseph Joestar ❀ “AAAAAAAH!” Joseph would screen and look at the mirror to see that he was in your body? What’s happening! Was it a stand user that did this? Eitherway he even tries summoning your stand but instead he ends up getting his same stand, hermit purple? Weird. ❀ He’ll probably blush at the fact he’s temptedt o look at your body but he has no time for that! He rushed out of his hotel room and quickly find you to see if you got in his body and his deductions were correct, you were also freaking out since you were in his body and Avdol was trying to calm you down. ❀ Once he steps in Avdol immediately widens his eyes and questions if he was Joseph and he managed to confirm that he was joseph and Avdol conclucded that both of you swap bodies because of a possible stand user. ❀ You two have to deal with it the whole day and Polnareff always reassured you two that it’s going to be fine, not a big deal though he does laugh and tease at the both of you sometimes. ❀ Since you’re in Joseph’s body you wear pretty fashionable clothes because ur cool and hot. ( ;) i love u reader -author) While Joseph wears more of your plain clothes just a shirt and pants, but he still wears his hat. ❀ You two eventually got separated from the group and found the stand user and managed to attack ther user and returned back to your bodies. Jotaro Kujo ❀ He’ll be staring at the mirror and let out a “tch”, he already knows this is a work of a stand user, he just stares at the mirror for a long time and then walks out of his hotel room, calmly but still wearing your pjs. ❀ Once he enters to the room he was in his hands would be in his pockets, Kakyoin would be helping you think on how this happened but looks at Jotaro who was in your body and his eyes widened and kakyoin was right you two did switch bodies. ❀ When you where in a hunt from the stand user who did this to you and Jotaro you wore his turtle neck only and with no jacket and no hat, he decided to wear his hat with your body and he wore one of your leather jackets since it fits him compared to his original jacket. ❀ Girls would circle around you and you would flirt with them back because it’s funny to see Jotaro annoyed that you’re having way too much fun being him, “It’s not that bad being you” You would say and he would just scoff and tell you to not enjoy it too much. ❀ He was having a hard time being you as well since you look like an approachable person compared to him so a lot of people advertised products to you or if not foreigners asking for him and other things like that and honestly you would answer it for him. ❀ You two eventually got attacked from the back from the same stand user that switch both of you, and good thing that it doesnt switch your stands so you two managed to beat the stand user and Jotaro had to change back to his uniform. Kakyoin Noriaki ❀ Honestly he wouldn’t notice it for a bit and then when he does he quickly looks at the mirror and then starts processing it all and quickly rushes to his shared room with Jotaro.  ❀ He wakes you up before you even freak out and you’d be freaking out back in your own room. You two start thinking what made you two switch your bodies and you both agreed and concluded that it was probably a stand user they met the night before, but who? They met so many people the night before. ❀ It was honestly fun that you two were trying to figure out the puzzles of this mystery, but after a few hours pass by you two went to the others to inform them a stand user switched both of your bodies, it was only 9 AM at this time so you all got breakfast and tried thinking of ways to find the stand user. ❀ You wore different clothes for Kakyoin, his uniform was too hot and you couldn’t handle the heat of the sun already so you wore more comfortable and thin clothing, just a long sleeves polo shirt but you folded the sleeves, he honestly didn’t have much different clothes, only his pajamas and his uniform then extra polos. ❀ He in the other hand actually dressed up pretty nice with your body, he had good taste in clothing. ❀ This whole experience got you two closer together honestly, before you two wouldn’t really talk that much so the fact that this whole freaky friday thing is the one that made you two close is kinda funny but it was alright since you two knew a lot of things from each other just by talking the whole time you two looked for the stand user who did this. ❀ When you two encountered the stand user everyone else in the group was behind so they help you two defeat the stand user and got swapped back to your bodies, and unlike Jotaro he wouldn’t really change out of the clothes you wore for him since he wanted to be polite and it actually suited him. Muhammad Avdol  ❀ he sweats and gulps as he looks at the mirror, he started thinking about how this happened? ❀He came to your room to see you in his body and talking to Joseph that you were you, and he confimed that the both of you seemed like you two switched bodies. ❀ Joseph went to call the others and everyone had a meeting in Joseph and Avdol’s room and you all tried recalling what happened yesterday or yesterday night and who you all encountered and spoke to. ❀ Polnareff would be teasing that Avdol is a lucky guy and jokes about weird things and Avdol would just defend you and say that this is serious even though Avdol is a bit flustered that he switched with you. He just doesn’t experess it my guy. ❀ You and Avdol got separated a lot from the group but you two manage to talk a lot, and just like Kakyoing you two learn a lot of things about each other. He wore simple clothes of yours and you wore clothes that were also simple because it was hot again and you still can’t handle too much heat since you might faint or something. ❀ You two struggled but managed to defeat the stand user which made you two switch back to your original bodies, you two would probably prank the others that you’ll be stuck with each other’s bodies forever and pretend to act like each other just to get a reaction from the rest. ❀ You and Avdol had fun picking on everyone making them think you’ll be switched forever, Polnareff kept comforting you two thinking that it’s actually real but you two are so good at acting that Polnareff got fooled. Jean-Pierre Polnareff ❀ This guy is a pervert honestly and would just be flustered if u are are girl he’d probably just stare at your boobs. ❀ Yeah but he’s a pervert, but he still doesn’t peak unless he obviously needs to change his clothes in your body. ❀ You would always remind him to have no funny business and Joseph would also wack him to not do anything weird and he’ll just say “Ow! I haven’t done anything!” or some other comments. ❀ You honestly just wore his clothes because it’s good enough for the heat, but he in another hand wore a tank top for you and shorts or if not shorts with jeans and there was nothing wrong with it just seems like you were going to go swimming or something but you shrugged it off. ❀ He would continue the constant teasing and how he actually likes being swapped with you and that you two are fated to be since out fo all the members you two were the chosen ones and you’d chuckle at his comments like this. ❀ He would flirt with other people even when he’s in your body which makes you wack his head sometimes and remind him that he was still in your body just in case he was forgetting. But despite this he’s been kind and polite to you and made you laugh a lot during the time you two switched bodies, this is where you two got closer than ever. Sure you knew him before but you two never had an actual conversation, usually you two would exchange just a few comments from and that’s all you two ever did, including the flirt. ❀ Once he finds the stand user he quickly chases them until he corners them and you do the finishing touch. You and Polnareff change back and he jokes about being upset that he isn’t you anymore and how he enjoyed the experience. You two would still talk about it in the future since you two found it funny. DIO ❀ This man is a tsundere for you, a good one though. Despite that he’ll still charge to his room where you were in, and you were in his body. He yells at you for doing this and you yell back that your stand doesn’t even have this specific ability. ❀ He tries to command Vanilla Ice to look for the one responsible for doing this to the both of you, but since Vanilla Ice just saw you and he didn’t notice that it was Dio in your body, thus he didn’t follow him and just looked at you instead and asked what you wanted to do to Dio. ❀ You have fun being him because you are in high power but he still had the world stand so he technically still has power to control you and you would scoff at this and Tell Vanilla Ice the whole story that the two of you switched bodies and even revealed that you two switched stands and Vanilla Ice was frustrated to hear that one of Dio’s followers did this to the two of you so he immediately got to work. ❀ This meant you two were stuck to wait with each other, he also forced you to tell every follower of his to not step into the room yet since he didn’t want to look like that in front of everyone it makes him look weak and you would roll your eyes. ❀ This man was still cocky though and comments that even though he is in your body he still has the power of the world, and that he can quickly just destroy all the Joestars and their team by pretending to be you and acting like a innocent person. Though he also stated he wanted to defeat the Joestars with HIS body because he kinda wanted the credit of killing the Joestars even though for some reason he sent his followers to kill them for him but you didn’t think too much of it. ❀ You secretly would walk out of his room and ask his own followers for a lot of things, like to get luxurious food or prepare a nice bath and they would find this weird since Dio was technically a vampire and this was out of character of him but you were so good at being Dio that you found so many excuses to their questions. ❀ You would actually put on some clothes while Dio just wears the same thing you wear earlier. ❀ After bantering each other for a long time Vanilla Ice finally defeated the stand user and you two switched back and Dio complained how being you is pathetic and you seriously cant take his comments seriously so you just insult him back, ilke I said this man was a tsundere but he kinda he enjoys being your body he found it really hot, he just doesn’t want to admit it, and he really thought this was an advantage to kill the Joestars immediately but sadly he already told you to request Vanilla ice to find the one responsible of all of this so  he couldn’t do much. ❀ You two continue your lives as a person who assist Dio because Dio forced you to, and with him bossing you around which makes you wanna kick his face but you still continue your duties  

Thanks for reading hope you have a good day! -𝓣.

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part one

a/n: did you really think i could control myself enough to NOT do an enemies to lovers professor!bucky fic? did you really think i have that much willpower? i fucking love this trope and it’s so cute and i definitely will be doing more of these. k bye! leave feedback if ya want, and as per usual, don’t copy/share w/o my consent! if you read this all, luv u tons <33! - ali

wc: 4.2k words

-

Walking into your office bright and early was always the worst part of your day. Not because you hated your job, or because you hated the students you taught, but because of your neighbor.

Being a college English professor was something you dreamed of since you were a young girl, and it was something that you thoroughly enjoyed doing every single day.

Even if it meant being up before 7 AM during the week.��

But something that never failed to irritate the absolute everliving fuck out of you when you walked in was Dr. James Barnes.

Dr. Barnes was an incredibly educated man. He could tell you anything about historical events. Any day, any year, any country. But there was something about him that gave off an air of arrogance and ‘I’m better than you because of all my friends in the staff.’ You only joined the English Department of the Avengers University about a year ago, but in your time there, you’ve already built a strong reputation for yourself. 

Unfortunately, you were a bit shy when it came to conversing with your coworkers. Your most prominent friends who you’ve made are Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the Russian Literature and Studies professors. They were the ones you gravitated to the most, naturally, and have been incredible friends since you started this job. 

While they’ve been friendly, you’ve been having a pretty difficult time breaking out of your shell. You tend not to really put yourself out there in terms of sociality because of how unfamiliar you were with the setting, but you were slowly building your confidence to truly get to know your coworkers.

Steve Rogers, one of your fellow English professors, came into your classroom on this gloomy, early Monday morning with a cup of coffee in both hands.

“Mornin, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve says while placing your cup on your desk, taking a fine morning?” He asks, breaking into a grin.

Steve was contagious when it came to his happiness and uplifting mood, and you matched his smile with one of your own.

“I’m just peachy, Professor Rogers. How was your weekend?” You ask, opening your laptop and reaching for your lesson binder. 

“It was actually really nice. I got my grading and planning for the week done last week so I got to spend time with the fiancée.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, how nice! What’s her name again...? I keep forgetting, forgive me.” You laugh, failing to recall the name of Steve’s beloved.

“No worries, Y/L/N.” Steve laughs at your aloofness, “it’s Peggy. She actually works as a military strategist.” He says with a proud smile, which you took notice of rather quickly. 

“That’s really interesting... I would never even be capable of doing anything with the military.” You giggle, making sure you have everything ready for your lesson today. 

“So... Y/N.” At the mention of your first name, your head shoots up in concern. Was something wrong? “Do you have anyone special at home?” Steve asks.

Your mouth felt dry at the question. You know Steve probably wasn’t trying to pry, but you couldn’t help feel yourself shrink under the question. 

“I- uh, no. Unless my cat counts.” You try to lighten the mood and lessen the speeding of your heart. 

Steve takes notice of your bright blush and embarrassment. To be fair, you were embarrassed. You were well into your twenties, a successful woman with a stable job, but little to social life. Or love life, at that. 

“You have a cat?! Let me see ‘em!” Steve exclaims, trying to deflect from the previous question. 

“Oh! This is her...” You say, flipping a frame facing you on your desk to Steve. In the picture frame was a beautiful, tiny black cat. “Her name is Lucy.” You tell him, smiling fondly at the image. 

“How old is she?” Steve asks.

“She actually just turned a year old. I thought it would be nice to have some company in my apartment when I moved here. I was getting a bit lonely.” You tell him, reminiscing on when you first adopted Lucy.

“She’s a real sweetheart.” Steve’s not able to wipe his grin away while looking at the furry animal. 

“Oh, you don’t even know. She’s a spoiled little thing, you should see her when I leave in the mornings.” You scoff, looking back to your checklist on your computer.

“Y’know, Bucky has a cat, too. I think he would like to know that someone else around here has one, the rest of us all have dogs.” Steve mentions casually, but your brows furrow in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been the most sociable person here since I arrived, but... who’s Bucky? I don’t think I’ve met someone with that name...” You search your brain for any recollection of meeting someone named Bucky, but you were coming up completely short. 

“Oh! Bucky is what James usually goes by... I mean, normally people don’t call him James, just Bucky or Barnes as nicknames, y’know?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, that makes sense,” you say with a slight laugh, “Dr. Barnes and I haven’t interacted very much since I started here... I get the feeling he’s not too fond of me.” You say with a smile to not make Steve uncomfortable. You knew the two of them were friends, as they were always chatting in the professor’s lounge and cracking jokes. 

“Bucky...? Not fond of you? Did something happen between you two that I wasn’t aware of? You’re not unlikable or anything...” Steve wonders out loud, trying to understand. 

“I-I’m not too sure, Professor Rogers.” You try to stop the conversation here before things got too blown out of proportion. “I hate to cut this short, b-but I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, so I should get going.” You tell him curtly, gathering your things into your tote and seeing Steve out of your office. 

“I’ll catch ya later, Y/L/N!” Steve says as he walks in the direction of his office down the hall.

“See you, Rogers!” You say back, making your way out of the building to the next. 

Just as you locked your office shut, you see a head poking out of the office next yours.

You keep your head down, not really wanting to engage in any aggressive banter right before your lecture. 

But of course, Dr. Barnes had other ideas. And while you really didn’t have the time, Barnes definitely did. 

“Mornin’, Professor Y/L/N! Already late to your first class of the week?” James calls from his spot as you walk in the opposite direction to the exit of the building. 

“I’m actually perfectly on time, Dr. Barnes. And it’s Doctor! Have a good day!” You turn back briefly for about two seconds to meet his gaze, and walk into the biting morning air, ready for the long day ahead.

Dr. Barnes, damn you for making my days ten times longer than usual.

-

Going home was always your favorite part of the day. Your apartment was your safe place, your place where you could drop the professionalism and not worry about having to interact with other people. 

Most of your nights were spent reading, watching movies, learning new recipes, and whatever you could do to take some time to yourself. Lucy was roaming the kitchen while you were trying to perfect your latest baked good. 

As Lucy intertwines herself between your legs, you look down, making sure you don’t trip over yourself.

“Luce, you have a whole plaything set up over there, why do you insist on putting yourself right ther-” Just as you were scolding your kitten, your phone rings from its’ spot in front of you on the counter.

“Hello?” You say into the speaker.

“Y/N! How are you?” Natasha’s voice came through the speakers, making you pull the phone away from your ear. 

“I-I’m good, Natasha. What’s up?” You ask, wondering why she was calling you since she was very clearly not at home. 

“W-Well,” she lets out a laugh with commotion in the background, “a few of us are down at the bar a couple blocks away from your place, I think.” Another round of ruckus in the back, “would you like to join us?”

“O-Oh... who else is there?” Your voice came through softly, making your nervousness evident through the phone.

“Just a few people in our group... Wanda, Banner, Stark, Rogers, Wilson, Odinson...” Natasha’s voice trails off, like she was still going to mention someone else, but was holding her tongue.

“Oh... Uhm, I was just in the middle of a recipe, but I think I could swing by for a bit...” You look down at your mixing bowl, covering it and placing it in the refrigerator. 

Lucy scurries through to your closet once you open it, searching for something to wear, because your current situation was quite frankly sweats. Choosing a black turtleneck and jeans, you dab on a little bit of makeup and pull on some boots, making your way to your car and warming it up. 

Once you made it to the bar, you were met with a stench that only bars have, one you haven’t smelt in years. College was fun while it lasted, though. 

The first person you spot is Wanda, who’s sitting at the bar waiting for drinks, you presume, so you make your way towards her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you came! Natasha said you were, but we weren’t sure, you don’t normally do, but it’s perfect! I’m so excited, we never hang out too much, you know? And-” Wanda was rambling, and although you could tell she didn’t want to offend you, it stung. You know you haven’t been out with your coworkers, but it was just one of the effects of your social anxiety. 

“It’s okay, Wanda. I know, but I’m gonna try to come out more... I think it’s time.” You tell her with a small smile. 

“That’s great, Y/N. I’m glad, you deserve to let loose and have fun every once in a while, you know. It’s okay to relax.” She pats your shoulder, and you can feel her warmth in it, both physically and emotionally. It was nice.

“I- Yeah, thanks, Wanda. Do you need a hand with the drinks?” You ask, seeing the two full trays. 

“Yes! If you don’t mind, we’re just back there. We got you a drink too, but we didn’t really know what you liked so we just played it safe.” She explains, pointing to the Old Fashioned on the tray.

“Oh! You didn’t have to...” You trail off, placing the tray down on the table. 

“Hi, Y/N! Didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight, good to see ya!” Steve says while scooting further down the booth seat to make room for you, everyone else welcoming you. 

“Thanks for inviting me, guys. I guess I really did need to get out of the house.” You say while sipping on your drink. 

As the chatter around the table starts again, you quickly end up finishing your drink, caught up in the atmosphere around you and how you were having such a good time. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad. I should do this more often.

And as this thought came to your head, Natasha sees that you’ve finished your drink, motioning to the empty glass.

“Need another, Y/N?” She points to the bar, “I’ll come with, I need one too.” 

You nod, scooting out of the booth.

“I’ll just have a glass of red,” you tell the bartender, Natasha giving you an odd look, “I still have to drive home later..” You laugh when she hums in realization. 

While waiting, a tall guy with dark hair is already chatting up Natasha. And just when you didn’t think your night could get any weirder, you feel someone come up next to you.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all by yourse-” But the voice was cut short as soon as you turned your head towards whoever it was. As soon as your mind recognized the face, your eyes widened, met with equally wide, ocean blue eyes.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was filled with confusion and mild disgust, ouch. 

“I-I was invited... By Natasha...” Your voice was meeker than you wanted it to sound, because who the hell was Bucky to question why you were here? 

“Oh. I didn’t know it was you, for the record.” Bucky states, watching in satisfaction as you look down at your wineglass that the bartender placed in front of you. She gave you a sympathetic look, turning back to another customer.

“I-Yeah, I figured, Barnes. Sorry to disappoint you, I suppose.” You grab the glass and walk back to the table, trying to not look as though someone just called you ugly to your face. 

“Y’know, I don’t quite understand why you can’t just let her be.” Bucky turns his gaze to Natasha.

“I just... don’t like her. It’s as simple as that, Nat. She walks around acting all high and mighty, like she isn’t equal to us.” He reasons, trying to make his point. 

“Bucky... Maybe if you took five seconds to get rid of that ego of yours, you’d know the kind of person she is. And she is most definitely not as pretentious as you’ve made her out to be. She’s a human being, just like the rest of us here.” Natasha finishes defending you, turning back to the table, leaving Bucky even more confused than before. 

-

As the night went on, you very evidently avoided anything that had to do with Bucky. If he came by the table, you would waver your gaze elsewhere, and if he initiated the conversation, you would keep quiet. Although you knew it was probably the easiest way to avoid conflict with him, you could tell you were folding in on yourself. 

And Wanda and Natasha most definitely noticed. 

Every time Bucky spoke, it was like you would disconnect. Focus your mind elsewhere, filling your head with thoughts completely unrelated to your current atmosphere. 

“Y/N, what do you have planned for the holiday break?” Sam’s voice pipes up, trying to include you in the conversation. 

“Oh, uhm... Not much, I usually stay at home and make myself a nice meal. Take some time to myself, y’know.” You smile at the thought of the holiday season. You were completely ready to take the time off to catch up on self care. 

“Oh, no family to go see?” Steve’s voice asks from across the booth.

“Uh... no, not really.” You try let out a light laugh at the answer, trying to not show the stiffness of your body at the topic at hand. 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...” Steve says, trying to rectify the situation.

“No! You’re completely okay, Steve.” You reassure him, not wanting to make things even more uncomfortable. 

“Well, now that we’re on the topic,” Bucky’s voice breaks the silence, “Y/N, how come we know, like... nothing about you? You’ve been at the university for a bit now and this is the first time we’re seeing you outside of work.” Bucky’s expression was smug as could be, and you were really fighting the urge to cry right now. 

“Bucky, leave her alone.” Wanda’s voice was coming as a warning, daring Bucky to go even further.

“No, I’m not trying to sound rude or anything,” Bucky keeps pushing, “but you just seem to act like we don’t deserve your time, like you’re better than all of us or something.” 

“Buck, that’s enough.” Steve’s voice was like ice. “Just leave her alone, for God’s sake.” 

The table falls silent, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap.

“I-I’m sorry, guys...” Your voice was holding on by a thread. “I think I should go, thank you so much for inviting me out with you guys. Have a good night.” And with that, you slip out of the booth, disappearing out the front door at an exceptional speed. 

The rest of the table was watching Bucky with several emotions, including mild disgust, anger, and hopelessness. 

When will this stop?

- 

That night when you return to Lucy, you were drained. Tired. Exhausted. Ever since you were a child, it seemed that you couldn’t outgrow your shyness and quietness. The only place that made you feel like you belonged was your lecture hall. And although you tried, several times, to overcome this horrid quality of yours, it seemed that you could never escape it. 

It just always came back.

And you know how it made you seem to others. Pretentious, snobby, it gave you an air of a superiority complex.

When in reality, it was exactly the opposite. You were so afraid to speak sometimes that you just choose not to. You didn’t want to be judged or ridiculed for saying the wrong things, so you thought it was better to keep quiet.

Becoming a professor definitely helped you break out of that shell a little bit, but it never really translated outside of the classroom.

Flopping down on your grey comforter, you realize that you couldn’t continue to feel like this. It was years and years of meekness, of keeping to yourself. That was the reason why you were almost 30 with no boyfriend, no fiancé, and certainly no husband or child. 

You knew you had to make a change, but you didn’t quite know how to. But that’s something you’ll have to worry about later, because you were close to passing out right now.

-

The following week had been... different. You were spending less of your lunch hours in your office, alone, and finally accepting Natasha and Wanda’s consistent invites to eat with them. It took them by surprise at first, but they welcomed you with open arms.

It was now Thursday, and you were in Wanda’s office, digging into your pasta salad that you’d packed.

“So, Y/N, just out of curiosity...” Natasha speaks through her lunch, “What suddenly made you want to join us? I mean, after last week, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see us again.” She laughs a breath out, clearly feeling guilty for last weeks’ events. 

“Well,” you supply after a moment to think, “I realized something. After James... spoke his mind, I guess you could say, I realized that he was right, in a way.”

“Wha-” Wanda interjected but you continued to explain.

“I realized that I had removed myself so far from the people that I see every single day so much that they don’t even know me. And it’s been like this most of my life... I usually just keep to myself, but I think that even though I’m terrified of speaking to people I don’t know, it’ll never get better unless I actually try.” You release, feeling a metaphorical weight lift off your chest. 

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad you finally chose to let us in... But Bucky was still an asshole, and totally out of line. We know we can’t speak for him, but we’re all really sorry for what he said... He doesn’t even know you, and he shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you.” Wanda says after a moment of silence. 

“Thank you, guys.” You smile, gathering your things and standing up. “I have a lecture to prepare for, but... thank you for everything, both of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had good people in my life that I can call my friends.” You’re shocked at the fact that you feel two sets of arms wrap around you at your confession, holding you tight.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to thank us for being your friends... you deserve good things, never forget that.” Natasha tells you, and for the first time, you actually believe it. 

“Okay, I actually have to go now, but I’ll see you two later?” You ask, already halfway out the door.

“Yeah, we’ll text you!” Wanda yells back, and you’re making your way back to your office to gather your belongings for the lecture.

But of course, you could never get ready for a class without Barnes popping out and giving you a little pep talk.

“Afternoon, Y/L/N. Getting ready to bore another groups of kids to death?” He asks, a smug look on his face with a mug held in his hand. 

“Actually, Dr. Barnes, I happen to have excellent students who truly enjoy being in my class, being that I don’t teach any 101s, that’s more Steve’s part. But thanks for the concern.” You tell him, shutting the door behind you and letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You’ve never spoken to anyone like that in your life before. 

And James was equally shocked at your attitude, standing in his doorway, dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open. He was staring at your shut door, wondering where the quick with came from.

He begrudgingly turns back into his own office, truly trying to process what just occurrfaxed.

While you slung your bag over your shoulder, there was an infectious smile gracing your face, proud of not being his doormat for the first time.

That day, class was even better than usual, and you even let your students out early, telling them to enjoy the rest of their day. 

And that night, you went home feeling the best you’ve felt in a long time.

-

You went into the university the next week feeling refreshed from you girl’s weekend that you hosted at your apartment, inviting Natasha and Wanda, and even another professor named Carol who you’ve recently befriended as well- to unwind and have fun with. 

And as you swing the usually locked door of your office open with ease, your eyebrows furrowed. 

I remember locking it when I left on Friday...

But the only thing that seems to out of place is the iced americano and chocolate croissant sitting on your desk.

On the bag of the croissant, there was writing that read, ‘Thought I’d make it up to you.’

Who the hell would go out of their way to bring me breakfast? You thought to yourself. And they know my usual...

You honestly assumed it could’ve been one of the girls, but you don’t know what they could’ve been making it up to you for. Maybe girl’s night? But still, everyone did a good job of bringing things with them to compensate for you hosting. 

But nothing explains the door being unlocked. But you weren’t really afraid. You didn’t keep anything too valuable in there anyways, taking most papers home with you, and keeping classified files sealed in the file cabinet. 

It didn’t really scare you, but you truly wondered who would go out of their way to do something like this for you.

The rest of your day went by pretty quickly, and it was oddly quiet. Specifically from the office next door.

It’s now 5 PM, and not a peep from James.

It unsettled you, to say the least. First the breakfast and unlocked office, and now not a word from him. 

It was weird.

You spotted him talking to Steve earlier in the day, but you haven’t seen too much of him either.

Although, there was a staff meeting tonight, so you’d definitely see him then.

As you made your way to the designated conference room with Natasha, you see Dean Fury waiting for everyone to arrive. He greets you with his usual disgruntled look, which you’ve learned to not take personally over the time you’ve spent here at Avengers University.

Slowly, everyone made it in, taking a seat. 

“Good evening, staff. I hope you’ve all had a productive day thus far, but there’s a reason I’ve called you here tonight. I have a proposal for all of you.” Fury explains, making you all curious. 

“I’ve decided, after a few months of toying with the idea, I’d like to do partner teaching. Each and every one of you will be assigned a counterpart, and you will both help each other in making the others’ teaching environment better. Here at AU, we’re committed to always pushing the envelope, and that means that sometimes, you’ll have to get uncomfortable. And if you’re wondering, there’s no way out of this. You all have to do it. Each one of you has received an email to your .edu inbox with your partner assignment and further instructions on how this will be done.” A pause overtook the room as everyone pulled out their phones to check their emails. “Happy teaching, we start next week, folks.” Fury finishes, exiting the room. 

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe your eyes when they saw the opened email. 

Dr. Y/L/N, you’ve been selected to teach alongside Dr. Barnes.

Oh fuck no.

And the look he was sharing with you from across the table confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing. 

-

a/n pt.2: ooooooh cliffhangerrr!!! holy shit y’all this bitch long asf. don’t worry, part 2 will be coming soon! comment and lmk what you thought down below! this might have a part 3, i haven’t decided yet !! lol, anyways, i have class in an hour, so bye! if you made it this far, i seriously love and. appreciate you!

[cannotgiveafuck]

This has been sitting in my drafts for a long while, and idk what I'm doing with it, but here we go.

Concept: Thavma is here, which means Billy is not, and no one really likes that

...

"Marvel, report."

"Holy shit, you okay, big guy?"

"Can you hear us? Marvel, are you there?"

"Marvel, come in."

"I'm gonna check on him!"

"Guys, I don't think--"

He takes the small device from his ear and crushes it. The chatter an annoying distraction from assessing the situation he's in, the damage he has taken.

Limbs still attached and functional? Yes.

Severe wounds or heavy bleeding? No.

Head clear and uncompromised? Acceptable.

Able to continue the fight? Absolutely.

.

"Oh Jesus! Hey guys, found Marvel! He's right ther-- The fuck."

"Uhhh... GL? Supes? You guys seeing this?"

"Yeah, Flash, I see him. Didn't think the big guy had it in him."

"Stay away from him! I repeat, do not engage with him!"

"Supes? What do you--?"

"That's not Marvel."

.

The fight is over in a matter of minutes.

Captain Marvel stands several feet above a pile of unconscious sorcerers as they lay bruised and bleeding on the ground. Remnants of their failed ritual smolders around them. Chalk circles are smudged and destroyed, ingredients burnt to ash and scattered in the fight, and black scorch marks sizzle where other worldly creatures had tried to cross over.

It happens sometimes. Demons lay bread crumbs of knowledge for hungry human cults to pick up, and then those groups of naive egotists believe they can control powers far beyond their understanding.

The hubris of many a magic user.

"The fight is over. Step away from them."

When his gaze snaps up to the three heroes conspicuously surrounding him, they immediately tense. A standstill moment passes before Marvel floats a few feet away from the cultists. The three Leaguers visibly relax as he settles on the ground.

Marvel's posture was always tall and demanded attention, but now... He stands with an air of regal authority. As unusual as it is to not see a smile brighten his face.

"Where is Marvel?" Superman starts, commanding and wary.

"I am Marvel."

"Let me rephrase that. Where is Billy?"

For one without an ounce of magical energy, the Kryptonian is still very perceptive. Especially when it comes to his friends.

Thavma should account for that when scenarios like this happen. Though, it is not like he plans for this in advance.

"He is resting."

"Is he hurt?"

"Nothing that cannot be healed as he rests."

"Uhhh. So who are you exactly?"

The Green Lantern steps forward. Thavma recalls the limited knowledge he has on the Lantern Corp. Afterall, space was never his territory.

"Captain Marvel."

"Okay, don't jerk me around here, pal-"

"Your companion can provide an explanation," he says.

Getting into the complicated history of who exactly he is - of what he is - would be a waste of time. Not that they could fully fathom it anyway. Thavma begins to lift off the ground once more, prepared to take off toward Fawcett City.

"Although none of you are proficient in the mystical arts or have studied ancient magical history. It would be best to leave it as is. Billy will return when he's ready."

Superman opens his mouth to retort.

Thavma doesn't wait to hear it.

.

"Alright, I don't know who the hell that was, but it sure as fuck wasn't Cap," Hal's temper flares at the dismissal from 'Captain Marvel'.

Though it would be a terrible joke to even consider him as such.

"Does Marvel have amnesia again? Should we call Wondy? I don't wanna call Bats on this one. He'd kill us." The Flash reappears beside them after restraining the culprits.

They'll have to be turned over to the appropriate authorities, but that kind of thing always gets weird with magical users. Usually Captain Marvel deals with it.

Superman sighs. Of course this would happen on his mission. This was supposed to be a simple monster fight. "No. I mean, yes. We do need to update them on the situation, but we'll do that when we get back to the Tower."

"So is it amnesia again? Or was that someone else? Cause I'm very tempted to kick his ass, but if it's Bills I'll hold off."

Superman frowns. He doesn't really know how to describe what's happened. "It's complicated."

God he hates magic so much.

[a-sirens-melody]

Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

”Something of you“ WarxReader

Everybody would say that, even if it was in fact an incorrect quote, that it was normal that a woman would like to stare at her own reflection in the mirror. You would have even agreed if it wasn’t for the fact that you wasn’t staring at yourself but at something else.

 At the beginning it started with a little red sign at the perfect centre of your chest, almost invisible o be honest. Only your own eyes were capable to perceive it, but you didn’t mind at all. Your body was covered in scars from the olds days, why bother for something that was as big as the head of a pin? You let the thing slide...until you started to notice some changes in whatever thing you got. It wasn’t just growing as mass of whatever thing was, but more like a pattern, lines that intertwined with eachother, creating a strange and yet mesmerizing  design of your skin, becoming more intricating each passing day, just like when a new branch start to grown on a tree. When you realise how “not normal” that thing was, you ask for advice on Fury, the only one that were not that overprotecting on you at the point to take you to the hospital for a cut or strandled you on bed, and she was confused as much as you! At first sight her insticts said that that thing was some kind of angel curse or something, but she was uncapable to feel anything arming on you. It was just a red sign that started to appear on your body and nothing more! But you know that wasn’t near the thruth. The second change appear one day, when you and War were spending a nice and warming spring morning together, admiring a nature that was long forgotten on your planet, bathing in that calming sensation and just enjoying each other presence when you just...feel it. It was like sensing a tingly sensation on your skin, like something crawling on you and when you immediately check on it you saw that lines where not anymore just some red signs, they were glowing! It wasn’tjust a blinking kind of glowing, it was more like the embers of the fire, with brights lines followed by more darked spots of deep red. Even in that occasion you didn’t feel any pain from it, like tht was nothing but that wasn’t even normal! But the worst had happen just a few minutes ago... One thing tat you notice to change with signs? Your tem,perature, you were in a constant feeling that everywhere was hot, a warming sensation that confused your sense to day one. No matter how cold you tried to take, you were capable just to feel a fierly sensation deep inside you, but you tried everything to take it undercontrol, until now at least! War had returned from a mission after a long week , and enjoyed a few days of demons hunt, so the next thing he wanted was spending the next few days in your company, showing you his trophy and talk about these new worlds that he had visited, keeping to himself the idea of showing them to you next time. You were so happy to see him back, completely hide the tingly sensation that was now coming back from you, and completely rapt on his words, hist story...everything. Until you just....burns. War notice it before you could sense it, he saw your clothes start to emitt a series of black clouds of smoke, accompanied by the distinct smell of burnt wood from the table were your hand was resting. Before even your eyes could catch wathever was happening on you, War grabbed you by your shoulder, as faster as when you were in a real danger during the end of days, and throw at the nearest source of water in the area, which was the old water trough near the barn that you and Strife repaired a few weeks ago. Flying over the tantrum that you were almost ready to throw at him for the scene, he started to inspect your body for any trace of harm on you, coming from your spontaneous combustion or from himself, and the only things that he finds was red burning wines that covered your skin, almost touching the visible side of your neck from your now soaked t-shirt, “...Y/N....What is happening?!” And these only four words take here, at the mirror of your bathroom, almost naked, stating that maybe things are not that okay as you were thinking to be. War was outside the wooden door, his hears sharped enough to try to catch anything that was happening inside that tiny room. He was capable to catch the noise of your wet clothes falling on the floor and your frantic feets moving around, checking every angle of your body. And the breath....you were scared.  “....Y/N....” He posed his good hand on the surface of the door, hearing a gulp from inside. “Y/N, please, open the door...” “War, i can’t, i don’t...” “I need to see it...you don’t have to hide that, whatever it is i want to help....” A little pause, a sigh from the other side and then door lock finally open.  He was...surprised. Usually he was over protective on everything about you, from your mental to your body health, but that thing was almost nice to his eyes. Spirals of fire glowing, intertwine in an enchanting weaves. Some were wide as a finger, other were thin lines, touching each other, caressing every courve of your body. He was allmost mesmerized...untill he saw your scared and embarrassed looks on him. I calm himself, coughing a little to call his composure back, and taking your hand on his to watch closely those strange signs on you, and there happen again. The hand that he was holding became hot, not enough to hurt him of course, but hurt enough to startled the horseman. You immediately take your hand, holding it closed to your chest, whacthing your friend, confused just like you.  “...I need to consult my brothers.” //////////// “She was immolate?!” As always it was Strife that broke the intense silence that fall on him and his family, jumping on the fallen trunk that make as a sit near the fire in that desert-like world. Fury was nervous to say the least, she  explain that she was there at the beginning but she’d never imagine that something like that could happen on a human! Death was in a feral silent, listening to his brother confusing rumbling about everything that War told them. “She can’t immolate, she would DIE from it!” “I KNOW that, brother. I don’t you to remind me how low humans can take high temperature!” “Well things are changing since she was burning and even didn’t notice it!” “OOOOH Could you two stop?! Arguing it’s useless now!” Fury stand up, putting herself eye level with her twin brother, hair twirling for the exhausting situation. Strife eyes glow in a luminescence rage. “We wouldn’t be aruing NOW if you told us BEFORE!” “Oh yes! Of course! Why didn’t she say anything at the beginning?! Ah yes, because you would have just make thing worse, just like now since you all traite her as a child that need protection from EVERYTHING!” During the arguing, the three didn’t notice the oldest stand up, grab them by their collar and throw them back down to the trunk , raising coulds of dusts, make the youngest just take the message to shut their mouth and let him gather his thoughts. “...Very well...now you two, calm down, this is not the case to start a quarrel....Fury, you said that you felt nothing from it, am i correct?” “...Yes.” “I need to be sure, can you swear to me that nothing of malevolent was growing on her?” “I AM. I sense nothing! It was just a drawing, like a war paint!” Strife left a sigh, but for Death it was enough. He thrusted Fury senses, they were as sharped as his, if there was something she would have taken care of it on the moment! Then his eyes posed on his youngest sibling, War, that now was  just more focused on not run to Azrael to find a cure for Y/N.  “War...i know you’re concerned for her, but i need you to tell me: before this, did you notice something...off?” War raised his sight, looking in his brother eyes, and then he calm himself and start to recall the last few months. “....Well...she did not avoid me, it was more like something distract her and force her away from me...but she spent time with you all and-”  “If you think it’s something that happen to us too, no War. I too spent entire days with her and nothing happen. That means that this happen with you only.” Before a sense of guilty could strike the youngest, Death immediately take him back on him. “And now, most important: did you feel something different in the few months? Anything...sensation of some kind?” His eyes started showing surprise that his brother could know about this thing. He was the same, no signs on his harms, on his skin, not even scars or stuff, but he wasn’t capable even to say that he was the same. Everything changes after the fall of the Charred council, many things were still changing and they would have more, but himself something started to move after his meeting with you. It was like completing a puzzle  were he was holdings some parts and you were the owner of the others. A missing part that he never bother to find... “...Not from the few months...from much more time...i’m feel different, capable to understand things i didn’t know...it’s like see a new kind of color, all it’s the same and different at the same time...” He tried his best to explain, even knowing that it was complicated, but Death seemed to understand. The oldest sighed with relief, left a few low laugh, and old his brother shoulder, watch him dirrectely in his eyes. “She’s fine...she’ll be fine, as you will. The only help she’ll need it will be by choice, on help her to control it or just..get rid of it, it won’t even be a painfully operation.” “For creator sake, Death, TALK! What is happening!” Death left War’s shoulder and finally faces his thers siblings, still ina  sea of confusion, but at least relief about knowing that you would have spent more days with them alive. “It’s...an old thing..something that i didn’t experienced, but i know it was a common thing in the Nephilim race...we do believed that when a..,.couple, was well matched, part of the soul of each other could reach the other and became one. In other words, something from you come to me and something from me come to you.” “Wait...wait are....are you telling us that part of the soul of War get inside Y/N?” “As a part of Y/N’s soul is, now, inside War...” Fury wasn’t too young during the purge, but that strange story never reached her hears, as Strife’s too, since when a soul can do something as that?! It was a Nephilim thing or others species could do it?! On the other side War was shocked, but still something inside of him was confused. “.....If...If i gave her that.....why didn’t i too have a mark on me, brother? Why i’m not change like her?” “...You mst be blind to this War...you are change, and you can sense it too...” All War’s questions finally started have an answer, and more anserws he received and more he was scared.  If verything that Death was saying, if you really had part of his own soul inside of your body, and he had a part of yours....then the meaning was something that even him was not ready to take, or at least he’d believed...

[the-one-eighteen]

You asleep? I just feel calmer. When I’m with you. Stay For the soft conversation starters. You can use them together or separate! It’s up to you ❤️

I am. So sorry this took so long! But, I finally got it to a point where I like it, and enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoy!

(read on ao3)

Eddie couldn’t say when he fell asleep. He vaguely remembers getting out of the showers at the end of his shift. Blearily recalls catching Buck’s eye across the locker room, and answering a questioning eyebrow with a signal for five more minutes. Knows he got in a car at some point.

But the line connecting point A to point B ends about the time Buck unlocked the door to his apartment and they both tumbled inside, if he’s being honest.

What little he can now make out of the dark living room seems to suggest their normal night in - open, empty take out containers from the Chinese place down the block on the table in front of them, tv screen black from where it’d powered off after too long sitting inactive. The light streaming in from the windows is flickering off and on, that same damn lightpost that’s needed it’s bulb replaced for the last two months or so - longer, if he takes Buck’s word for it.

The night around them is quiet at this point (though, what actual point that is is anyone’s guess. He’s groggy as hell, so...late is about all he’s got), with only the occasional rumbling of a car coming down the road, and more distant but ever present white noise of a city that never truly sleeps.

If Eddie tries really, really hard, all of that fades out pretty easily, leaving him in just this moment.

In the warm dark. On Buck’s familiar couch. With Buck’s achingly familiar warmth pressed against his side from where they’d fallen asleep leaning against each other. God, Eddie could melt back into sleep, just like that, if given the chance.

He didn’t get this often. Didn’t let himself get this often. It was too close to something he wanted - something he couldn’t have but was so tantalizingly close that if he didn’t know better, he’d bet Buck was toeing the same line he was.

But he wasn’t. Because that wasn’t Eddie’s luck. And Buck was a tactile bundle of electricity that pressed up against anything he could and anyone lucky enough to be caught in his wake just needed to hold on tight.

And looking too closely at how often he ended up on Buck’s couch - or, God forbid, how often Buck ended up on his, with Chris between them, all three of them curled into their own little bubble that made Eddie’s heart hurt with the comfort - well...that way madness lay.

So. Eddie didn’t allow himself this often. Or, so he told himself.

If only because his heart couldn’t take it.

But he was only so strong. And if the opportunity was going to land in his lap, who the hell was he to fight it.

He’d just about relaxed back into the couch, carefully tilting his head back against Buck’s where it was resting against his shoulder. If he was quiet enough in his want, maybe he could keep this a little longer. Stretch the moment out into the golden illusion of an early morning, if only for a breath.

But then he feels Buck shift against him. Feels the set to his shoulders stiffen as he wakes up slowly.

Eddie’s quiet in that moment. It’s selfish, and he knows it, but…

“You asleep?” It’s so soft that Eddie knows he could get away with pretending to not hear it. Is left to wonder why it’s so quiet for only a moment before Buck carefully shifts again.

“...Yeah.” Eddie finds himself murmuring back, even as he wishes he could pull that quiet sleepiness back around them. Knows it’s slipping between his fingers even as he pulls himself away to stretch. Like he hadn’t been up for several too long, too short minutes. “Looks like we missed the end of another movie, huh? Think we’ll ever make it through one that isn’t animated?”

There’s a soft, tired laugh, and Eddie grins. Can’t not, in the face of the sheer contentedness he can feel rolling off the other man.

“Not until Chris is too old for ‘em.”

And there’s the other reason Eddie toes that line, but never...quite makes the jump. Buck is always, always there, in their future. And Eddie would rather bury his own heart than take that chance away.

Simple as that.

“Speaking of, I gotta pick him up from Pepa’s pretty early, so I should probably get going.” He’s still smiling - can feel it in the curve of his mouth. Can’t quite feel it in any way that matters.

Something flashes across Buck’s face - still tired, his eyes shiny and his mouth curved sweetly and Eddie needs to look away - but Eddie can’t parse it in the dark, and, frankly, doesn’t want to try. Reading too much into things is practically a Diaz family tradition and he’s got enough tormenting him as it is, thank you.

“Yeah, alright. Drive home safe alright? And see you tomorrow night.”

Eddie hums softly in acknowledgement, standing and stretching again - less for show this time and more because the age where sleeping well on couches regularly is slowly but surely passing him by. He sees movement out of the corner of his eyes, just manages to turn in time to see Buck flop over the rest of the couch in his place, looking for all the world content to just. Stay there.

“Nice Buck. Try to make it up to your actual bed at some point will you?” Eddie asks around a laugh - too fond, even to his own ears - even as Buck grabs the pillow from that side to bury his face in with a vague grunt of acknowledgement. “Don’t complain to me tomorrow when your back is cramped then.” Eddie adds, only getting a muffled laugh and a blind shooing motion in his direction in response.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but leaves Buck to it. If the man wants to sleep on that dumb couch, let him. Eddie’ll just ignore his complaints during their shift.

And if he’d give a whole hell of a lot to be complaining about it right there with him, well, even he knows that sounds weird.

---

The knock at the door isn’t a surprise. Probably should be, given that it’s two-thirty in the morning on a Sunday.

But, Eddie’s been following the news all day. Been waiting for a call, all day.

(He’d finally gotten sick of waiting around nine, and had called into the station. Only to be told they had plenty of hands on deck, and that, by that point, everything was under control, and the news was just milking everything they could out of a sensational, but ultimately, nontragic accident.)

But, even through the shit footage the news had been running on repeat for hours, Eddie could see that just because it hadn’t been tragic, didn’t mean it had been easy. Construction project downtown had gone up in flames. Jumped to the building next to it. The only reason it hadn’t ended in tragedy was because that building tended to be empty on Saturdays. The building next to that one? Not so much.

So. The knock at the door is no surprise at all.

He answers the door and just raises an eyebrow at the sheepish look Buck shoots him. “Why do you still knock? You have a key.”

“Look, not everyone’s you Diaz. Some of us were raised with manners.” Eddie’ll give Buck this - he manages to hold the serious face for about thirty seconds before they’re both laughing at that.

“Get in here. There’s beer in the fridge, and some left over Thai.” And Buck grins at him, big and bright, and cracked along the edges in a way Eddie’s not even sure Buck realizes. But, in Buck comes, heading straight for the kitchen.

It was a thing.

Eddie couldn’t say when it started. But it was definitely a thing.

A long shift. A hard shift. Sometimes even just one out of left field. Mud and grit and smoke and ash. Some tangled mess of emotions or adrenaline or weathered nerves exposed for too long...and they’d both find their way to each other. Eddie would drop by Buck’s after making sure Chris was safe with his abuela or Peppa or Carla or, sometimes, bring him along, because nothing soothed the tangle like a night in with his family. Or Buck would drop by their place. And they wouldn’t talk about the shift. Talk about everything else around it, sure. Everything under the damn sun except the last twelve hours.

And it worked for them.

Even if Eddie always, always wished it didn’t have to end like it always, inevitably, did.

Look, he knew he was reaching the edge of pathetic and taking a dive right over the edge. He was aware.

He can hear Buck digging around in his fridge, rolls his eyes at the sound, even though he knows he’s still grinning at the sound. “I think there’s also some-”

“Cupcakes!”

Eddie snorted, shaking his head and heading to the couch. “Yeah, those. Chris wanted to make some for Carla’s birthday. Those’re the ones that didn’t pass the visual test. Still taste pretty good though.”

There’s a muffled ‘mmph’ that he’s pretty sure is Buck stuffing one in his mouth, so he felt okay assuming he agreed with him on that. “Bring me a beer while you’re raiding my fridge, would you?” Another muffled ‘mmph’ that Eddie’s pretty sure is acknowledgement.

It’s another couple of quiet moments after that before Buck actually follows through though, eventually shuffling into the living room with two beers, one of which he hands to Eddie as he collapses on the couch next to him.

Eddie pauses in his channel flicking long enough to glance over, raising an eyebrow. “Decided you weren’t hungry, or did you eat all the cupcakes instead?” He barely ducks the couch pillow aimed at his head in response, grinning back at Buck cheekily.

“I only ate one - and you were right, they were good, remind me to tell Chris that later - but...not really hungry.” He says, shrugging, and looking for all the world like he didn’t just tumble into Eddie’s house at fuck-all in the morning.

Sucks for him then that Eddie knows his tells like the back of his own hand. Can point out the stiffness in his shoulders, the minute jitteriness in his knee, the soft frown pressed down between his eyebrows with an accuracy Eddie likes to blame on time rather than any special attentiveness on his part.

Likes to. Really can’t.

“Mm. Well, it’s there if you change your mind.” Is all he says about it though.

They don’t talk about the shifts.

They drift into each other's orbits and let things work themselves out. Talking about it when there’s nothing to really...be done, just never really seemed to help. Shifts were going to suck, no matter how prepared you were for the job. That was just life.

Eventually, they’d settle on a crappy movie, one of them would fall asleep, the other probably right behind them, and, in cases like this, they’d wake up to Chris excitedly yelling at them about Buck visiting.

It was a thing.

And it looked like Buck was going to be the first one to pass out tonight, from how quickly his head is listing to the side, and how quickly Eddie gets worried about having to possibly clean beer stains out of his carpet from the way Buck is holding the bottle.

“You doing okay there, Buck?” Eddie asks, softly. Buck never dropped this quickly. Nervous energy didn’t dissipate this quickly. They had a routine, and they both stuck to it pretty well - falling into habits well worn and settling into groves well travelled.

“Huh?” Buck asks as he pulls his head back up, blinking blearily at Eddie before gracing him with a lopsided smile. “Yeah, yeah, just...tired man. And the nerves are already gone, you know? I just feel calmer, I guess. When I’m with you.” And that last part is said around a yawn, and Eddie swears his heart skips traitorously in his chest.

Before the feeling can fill the empty space in his lungs, he hums and pushes himself to his feet. “Lemme get you a pillow and a blanket then man. No point in trying to stay up if you’re already tuning out.” This time, Eddie doesn’t miss the flash of disappointment across Buck’s face.

Can’t quite convince himself he saw it right. Can’t quite convince himself he didn’t. Instead of examining it further, he’s turning on his heel down the hall to escape the doubt.

And Eddie wants nothing more in that moment than to drop the act. Invite Buck down the hall instead, where they could both curl up in the soft quiet of the night and stop pretending it was the not talking about it that made it better, at least for him.

And maybe...maybe for Buck too.

But, he doesn’t.

Can’t.

No matter how bright his heart burns at Buck’s small smile. At his soft thank you. At the sharp look in his eyes as he chases Eddie’s gaze.

But they don’t say a word about it.

It’s a thing.

---

Eddie doesn’t really know why he’s on Buck’s doorstep right now. Knows he should’ve called. Just as he knows he’s never needed to before.

It wasn’t a bad day. Shift was quiet - as quiet as a fire station in LA can ever be. Bobby had made lunch and they’d all actually been able to eat at least half their plates before the next call had come in. Every call had ended as well as they could.

Chris was on an overnight field-trip with his class to the natural history museum, and Eddie had a picture to show just how bright and excited he’d been about it that morning.

All in all? It’d been a perfect goddamn day. Well. No, not perfect. It’d been Buck’s day off.

...Huh. Maybe that’s why Eddie was on Buck’s doorstep.

...who the hell was he fooling anymore anyway? Definitely not himself.

Hopefully, still Buck though.

He doesn’t even get a chance to knock before the door’s opening and Buck’s grinning at him. “You know, when I said I was the one raised with manners, I wasn’t expecting you to take it to heart. You have a key too.” And then he’s gone again, leaving the door open behind him.

And Eddie has no choice but to follow.

“Was wondering when you’d stop by,” Buck calls out from the living room, where there’s two beers and a pizza box on the coffee table, “Pizza’s cold by now though. You missed your chance.”

“...Did you actually expect me to come by, or did you just grab that second beer just now to make it look like you did?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

And Eddie...Eddie just laughs, feels the strain he’d been carrying in his shoulders since about noon (for no goddamn reason, why was he like this) smooth out with each step towards the living room.

“Chris make it on the bus okay this morning?”

Eddie hums as he collapses on the couch next to Buck, feeling what was left of the tenseness in his muscles melt away as he settles into his spot. “You saw the pic this morning, what do you think? He’s gonna talk your ear off when he gets back. Which reminds me, I’ve been ordered to make sure you’re at dinner tomorrow. Chris’ orders.”

Buck grins at him, slow and soft, so bright and so fond Eddie has to look away. Excuses it by grabbing for the beer in front of him. “Well, Chris’ orders, guess I’m crashing dinner tomorrow then.”

“Hope you didn’t have plans.” Eddie says, for the sake of it.

“Well, I mean, I did…” Eddie feels his stomach drop - a sharp twist of discomfort as he quickly tries to figure out how to backpedal. There were joking expectations, and then there was seriously disrupting his best plan’s day just because he and his kid wanted to, and - “I was planning on dropping by your place for lunch, probably stay for a Disney marathon, since I’m pretty sure Chris is still on that kick, maybe make some lego disasters...but yeah, I think I can manage dinner.”

Eddie stares. And Buck just grins. “You need to get your blood pressure checked, Eds. Pretty sure people aren’t supposed to go that pale that quickly.” And then he’s cackling at Eddie’s expense, and Eddie kind of wants to strangle him, even as he finds himself laughing right along with him after less than a breath.

“You are such a jerk. I should leave. Actually, yeah, no, for that, I’m leaving. You can enjoy your cold pizza alone, you jacka-” Eddie’s halfway off the couch - with the intention of getting a plate, because like hell he was actually leaving - when he feels a hand clamp around his wrist, and suddenly it’s very, very quiet, and Eddie’s not entirely sure why it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of his lungs as he looks at Buck’s suddenly very serious, very sincere face.

“Stay.” Buck says into the quiet - so soft and gentle it can’t help but shatter the stillness around them.

And Eddie wants to laugh it off. The mood switch is too much, too dramatic, too...everything and he wants to break it so it’ll snap back to normal.

Wants to. Can’t quite manage it.

“...I was just getting a plate.” Eddie tries, weakly. Knows it’s not enough as the quiet settles back in around them.

But, then, Buck’s smiling at him, and his grip is loosening, and Eddie can breathe again.

The quiet stays in place, but the air between them is bright and fizzy instead of still and hard and Eddie couldn’t explain it if he tried.

So, he doesn’t. Instead, he goes to get the plate, because he’s not sure he can look at that smile and not take everything at face value.

He doesn’t hear Buck come up behind him. But he’s kind of hard to miss when Eddie turns around and Buck’s right there. Eddie doesn’t jump, but it’s a close thing. One Buck definitely notices if the shine to his eyes and the quirk to his lips is anything to go by. But, points to him, he doesn’t actually say anything about it.

“...You know. I’ve had this...big speech, in my head, for the last like. Month. Never quite manage to get it right twice.” And Buck’s talking, but Eddie’s not quite understanding. “Always seemed too...showy, you know? Or stiff. Or practiced. But that?” Buck gestures vaguely back to the living room like Eddie’s supposed to know what that means, “That gave me an idea.” And then he’s leaning into Eddie’s space and Eddie...Eddie can’t say no to Buck. Can’t deny him space even if all he has to give is his own.

“Eddie, stay with me?” Buck asks into the bare space between them, so soft and gentle it can’t help but shatter Eddie on the spot as the question clicks into place.

Eddie thinks back. To staying still in the comfortable dark in the hope that neither of them were going to move, for just a moment longer. To knowing silence and willing comfort in familiar orbits. To the want straining his heart every time he so much as looks at Buck, in the hope that the look he’s seeing in the man’s eyes is a reflection rather than a delusion.

He doesn’t know who moves first, but the next thing he really knows is the feel of Buck’s lips against his own in a slow, languid kiss that doesn’t quite line up until it does and all Eddie can do is melt.

“Do you even have to ask?” Eddie’s heart is burning when they pull away, breathless in the quiet, his voice too loud and too quiet.

And oh, that first kiss has nothing on the second.

[acrispyapple]

Midcin JP Event: Byron Wagner Full Event Translation

please do not screenshot, copy/paste, repost this translation. for byron’s story, it’s connected to his ever after, where he and the princess (now queen) have a daughter named emma! it’s also connected to the queen’s reign story event where byron stops wearing his eyepatch. go here for the event attire and here for byron’s ‘his room’ card. ✿

i will post the rayvis translation another day. spoiler alert: rayvis’s daughter’s name is ANNA. i guess i can call rayvis ‘daddy’ now. huehuehue i’m kidding. (≧◡≦)

My Little Prince & Princess ~Heart Pounding at the Future Excitement~

PROLOGUE

One day, when clouds like cotton candy were floating in the clear, blue sky… I have just returned from a foreign country visit and was walking through a corridor that faced the courtyard. I was together with Nico, who accompanied me as my attendant.

Nico: There’s a bit of time left before your next public duties, so please take your time and rest. Nico: Oh. If you’re tired, you should take an afternoon nap. I will come to wake you up.

I smiled at Nico, whose words were full of concern for me, and I shook my head lightly.

Anna: Thank you. But I’m not that tired, so it’s okay. Anna: It was a very fun visit. Nico: The prince became emotionally attached to you, Anna. Anna: Yes.

The royal family of the country we were visiting at the time included a prince with whom I had a deep friendship. We hadn’t seen each other for a while and he welcomed us cheerfully.

(When did the prince grow so big… He was so cute.)

Anna: It would be lovely to create a family like them.

I said it without thinking, and Nico nodded with a radiant smile on his face.

Nico: If it’s you, then I’m sure you will be able to create one soon. Nico: Because you’re very intimate with that person. Anna: …! Nico…

Faced with his teasing look, I blushed instantly. (But I would be happy if such day came.) (A future where I could live together with him and a cute child…) When I thought about this, I smiled... and then something shone brightly in the shade of a tree in the courtyard.

Anna: What!? Nico: What is this…

I exchanged looks with Nico and we headed towards the place where the light was beginning to subside…

it’s pretty long! please enjoy the story and tell me what you think! so much work! the rest of the story under the cut! ( ˙꒳​˙ )

[Chapter 1-1]

Nico: What is this…

I exchanged looks with Nico and we headed towards the place where the light was subsiding… (…! A little girl?) A little girl was standing there. Her shoulder-length dark blue hair was cut even and she was wearing a pure white dress. Her height reached my chest. She looked like she was about ten years old. (She’s very cute… I wonder if she’s lost?) Her naturally captivating aura reminded me of King Byron for some reason. Wondering about it, I walked up to her together with Nico. When we did, the girl noticed us and blinked her large grey eyes.

Little Girl: Nico… and… mother… Nico: Huh!?

The girl muttered these significant words, pausing between them. She half-run towards us, and squeezed me tightly.

Anna: …! (“Mother”… Could she mean me? And it looks like she knows Nico too…) Nico: What do you mean? Both Nico and I tilted our heads to the side, puzzled by the sight of this little girl, and in that moment a low voice resounded in the courtyard.

???: What a lively place. (This voice belongs to…) I turned my gaze in the direction of the corridor…

[Chapter 1-2]

???: What a lively place. (This voice belongs to…) I turned my gaze in the direction of the corridor and… I saw King Byron walking over to us.

Anna: King Byron! I’m sorry for not being able to come and welcome you. A conference in Wysteria with King Byron was scheduled for today. King Byron arrived a bit earlier than planned. He shook his head with a gentle smile on his face. Byron: No, don’t worry about it. When King Byron said that, the girl’s little shoulders shook as if reacting to his voice. She let go of me and stared at King Byron who was coming to us.

Little Girl: Father. Anna: …! Nico: No way… Byron: Hm? The little girl immediately straightened her back, stood in front of King Byron, lifted the bottom edge of her dress and performed an elegant curtsy. Little Girl: Father, your public affair efforts are much appreciated. Byron: Thank you.

King Byron narrowed his eyes, slightly mystified. But perhaps for the sake of not making the little girl feel uneasy, he did not voice his doubts and just nodded in silence. (King Byron is “father” and I’m “mother”… What does it mean, I wonder…?) I brooded over this trying to hide my confusion when Nico, who was standing next to me, spoke.

Nico: Anna. That King Byron arrived means the conference is about to start, yes? Anna: Oh… (But what should I do? There’s no way I could leave a little girl like her all alone…) As if seeing through my feelings, Nico smiled brightly… Nico: It’s fine. I will watch over her for you.

[Chapter 1-3]

Nico: It’s fine. I will watch over her for you. Nico: I will carefully explain this to Giles too. If we ask about details, we might learn who this girl is. Anna: You’re… right.

Hesitating, I stared at the little girl. A serious expression on her face, she was motionless and watched the course of events in silence. (I’m worried… But it might better to have Nico do this.)

Anna: Yes. Please do. When I nodded at Nico, the girl spoke pausing between words. Little Girl: I knew it, I’m… Byron: Is something wrong? King Byron asked the girl who was about to say something. But the little girl shook her head lightly. Little Girl: It’s nothing. Nico: Then let’s go? Um, your name is… Little Girl: Emma. Nico: What a lovely name. I watched Nico walk away while holding Emma’s hand and then I headed towards the office together with King Byron. … After reaching the end of the conference peacefully, me and King Byron sat down on the chairs next to the bed. Emma, apparently tired from talking with Nico, was sleeping in the bed. Anna: King Byron… What do you think of what Nico said earlier? Byron: That this girl is our future child?

[Chapter 1-4]

Anna: King Byron… What do you think of what Nico said earlier? Byron: That this girl is our future child? Anna: Yes… Byron: She seems to know people who frequent both Wysteria and Stein castles.

Nico came to this conclusion, because Emma also talked about affairs from other castles, which he did not know of, and because she herself called King Byron and I her parents.

[Flashback.] Nico: I cannot believe this, but… It didn’t seem like she was lying. Nico: I think she’s the child of the two of you. [End of flashback.]

I recalled Nico’s words. King Byron had his eyes cast down, as if thinking intently about something, and then he looked at me. Byron: It doesn’t feel real. But… We probably cannot call it a lie and rule it out. Anna: I think so too. Anna: Also, it’s strange, but… When I first saw Emma, I felt that she resembled you. Byron: Resembled me? Anna: Yes. Her naturally captivating aura was exactly the same… Byron: I see. Byron nodded as if understanding something. Suddenly he looked at me with a teasing expression on his face… Byron: Does that mean you’re captivated by me too?

[Chapter 1-5]

Byron: Resembled me? Anna: Yes. Her naturally captivating aura was exactly the same… Byron: I see. Byron nodded as if understanding something. Suddenly he looked at me with a teasing expression on his face… Byron: Does that mean you’re captivated by me too? Anna: …!

I realized what the meaning of the words that escaped my mouth and the inside of my chest filled with embarrassment. (I definitely didn’t mean to say it, but it’s not a lie…) I turned my gaze to King Byron, and replied, staring directly at him.

Anna: Yes. I was since our first meeting… All this time. Byron: I see. King Byron suddenly laughed and pulled my waist towards him. Now that we were close, I put my head on his shoulder. Warmth was spreading from the places our bodies touched. I felt my heartbeat quicken.

Byron: Anna. He called out my name in a gentle voice. I looked up and he placed a hand on my cheek. Knowing that our lips would touch, I closed my eyes, when… Emma: Mo… ther…

[Chapter 2-1]

Anticipating the kiss, I started to close my eyes, when… Emma: Mother… Anna: …! At the sudden sound of Emma’s voice, I quickly looked at the bed and saw that Emma woke up, although she still seemed sleepy. Emma: Where am I… Anna: This is Wysteria Palace.

I’m not sure who did it first, but King Byron and I took a step away from each other and I smiled at Emma. When I did that Emma let out a sigh, as if relieved.

Byron: Do you remember what happened before you fell asleep? Addressed by King Byron, Emma corrected her pose and answered with a serious look on her face. Emma: Yes. I was supposed to be in Stein, but I came to Wysteria… Emma: And when we parted earlier, Nico talked with me. Emma spoke matter-of-factly, then suddenly averted her gaze and stared at her hands. Although she looked serious, there was indescribable anxiety welling up in her teary eyes.

Byron: Is there something you are worried about? Byron asked gently. After hesitating a little, Emma spoke. Emma: This place is not the Wysteria I know?

[Chapter 2-2]

Emma: This place is not the Wysteria I know? Anna: Did Nico say so? Emma: No. But… Nico, father, mother and everyone else is different than usual. (Even though she’s so young, she observed her surroundings and came to that conclusion on her own.) Byron: This is the Wysteria from before you were born. Emma: I see…

Despite King Byron providing an answer to her question, Emma did not seem very surprised. (She must have somehow guessed that this is the case.) (This part of her personality resembles King Byron’s.) While I was astonished by her intelligence, Emma tightly gripped the quilt covering her knees.

Emma: I wonder if it’s because I thought of “that”… Anna: Huh? Emma started to say something in response. But as if not knowing how to express it, she fell silent and shook her head. Byron: … Byron did not speak either. Deep in thought, he watched Emma. (Now that I think about it, before I had Nico take care of her, she wanted to say something too.) (Maybe there’s something she suddenly understood?) I was about to ask her again, when King Byron suddenly started to speak to Emma… Byron: Emma, Anna. Could you come with me for a moment?

[Chapter 2-3]

(Now that I think about it, before I had Nico take care of her, she wanted to say something too.) (Maybe there’s something she suddenly understood?) I was about to ask her again, when King Byron suddenly started to speak to Emma… Byron: Emma, Anna. Could you come with me for a moment? Anna: Huh!? Emma: …? Both me and Emma stared at him blankly and King Byron smiled softly. After that, King Byron brought us to the courtyard filled with evening sunlight. Although her expression did not change, while she was plucking the garden flowers, Emma was a whole lot livelier compared to before.

Anna: Emma seems to be enjoying herself. Byron: Yes. We were sitting on a bench next to each other, and watching Emma. (Right now we really do look like a married couple watching over their child.) This thought made me fidgety and I couldn’t calm down. I stared at King Byron next to me. As if noticing me looking, he returned my stare with a calm expression on his face.

Byron: What’s wrong? Anna: Nothing… I just feel happy. Byron: I see… (I wonder if King Byron feels happy too?) Enveloped in the gentle warmth, I casually asked King Byron about something on my mind.

Anna: Why the courtyard…? Byron: The fact that the situation remains unchanged, I thought we should have some fun at least. Byron: If her mind is at ease, she might say what she’s been hiding. (On top of having noticed that Emma wanted to say something…) (King Byron also thought of what to do in this situation.) Thinking about how his kind proposal took away all the uneasiness, I smiled. It was then when Emma ran up to us carrying multicolored bouquets…

[Chapter 2-4]

It was then when Emma ran up to us carrying multicolored bouquets… Emma: For father and mother. She gave one bouquet to King Byron and one to me. Anna: Thank you. Byron: They sure are pretty.

I took the bouquet from her, picked one flower from it and put it in Emma’s hair. Anna: You should get one too. The yellow flower was like a night sky star adoring her deep blue hair. Her pure white cheeks became a bit red and she smiled slightly. (So this is the future to come, where I will spend time with King Byron and Emma, just like now…) (I look forward for this time to come.) When I returned Emma’s smile, King Byron pulled out one flower from his bouquet as well.

Byron: Then one for you too. He said while putting a pink flower behind my ear and there was happiness hidden in his words. Byron: The flowers suit you really well, Emma, Anna. Anna: Th-thank you very much… I smiled shyly, my heart racing and…

For some reason Emma dropped her gaze again. Anna: Emma? Emma: I wanted to play like this, just like before, and yet… Emma squeezed the hem of her dress. King Byron took her hand and cupped it gently in his larger palms. Emma: Father… Byron: Did something happen?

[Chapter 2-5]

Byron: Did something happen? With King Byron staring at her directly, Emma started to talk little by little. Emma: I was told that I mustn’t trouble my mother… Or be selfish… Anna: Selfish…? (Emma is so intelligent that I cannot imagine why would anyone say that she’s selfishly bothering people around her…)

Byron: Could you tell me a bit more about it? Byron asked gently and Emma slowly continued. Emma: Soon my little brother or sister will be born. She told us that the future me decreased the time spent with Emma bit by bit in order to prepare for childbirth. Emma felt lonely, so she said that she wanted to play with me, and was chided by the person in charge of her education. Emma: And then, when I thought that I don’t want to be here… Byron: You found yourself in the past? Emma nodded at Byron.

(Emma’s feelings probably caused something strange to happen.) (She’s growing up well, but… She still wants to be fawned upon lots of times probably.) When I looked at Emma who was trying to hold back tears, it’s as if something was squeezing my heart painfully. Emma: Wanting to play with mother more… Is that a bad thing? When Emma earnestly asked that question…

SWEET END

[Sweet 3-1]

Emma: Wanting to play with mother more… Is that a bad thing? When Emma earnestly asked that question… Anna: Emma. I spoke gently and hugged Emma tightly. Anna: It’s not a bad thing. Emma: …! Emma’s little body trembled in my arms. Byron: How come you’re the only one hugging her?

Byron gently reached out his hand too and stroked Emma’s head slowly. He answered in a calm voice. Byron: It’s natural to feel lonely. You don’t need to blame yourself. Emma: Really? I’m not a bad child…? Byron: Yes. There’s no way you would be one.

Hearing King Byron’s reassuring words, Emma sighed relieved then nodded. I noticed that Emma’s slight trembling completely disappeared. (She seems fine now. I’m glad.) (What’s left is… how to have her return to the future, I guess?) Emma loosened her arms around me, and after thinking about something, she turned her big eyes to us… Emma: Father, mother, there’s a place I want to go to. Could you come with me?

[Sweet 3-2]

Emma: Father, mother, there’s a place I want to go to. Could you come with me? Byron: …? Anna: Okay…

Curious, we nodded and Emma told us about a certain place. The place Emma wanted to go to was an apparel and accessories shop that made her dresses which was located in the castle town. The bell rang when we left the shop and King Byron turned his gaze to Emma.

Byron: Are you fine with just that? Emma: Yes. Mother was worried about a blanket for the baby. Emma spread out the blanket she bought, turned to me and held it up high so that I could see the pattern. Emma: Will she be happy about it?

The cream-colored fabric had a big pattern of stars. Next to the blanket Emma’s eyes were watching me fixedly. (It feels weird to be the one answering this question, though…) Anna: Yes. I’m sure she will be happy. Hearing my answer, Emma smiled happily. She folded the blanket neatly and murmured in a determined voice. Emma: I have to go back quickly. And then our surroundings were enveloped in strong light…

[Sweet 3-3]

Emma: I have to go back quickly. And then our surroundings were enveloped in strong light… Anna: …! Byron: This is… Both me and King Byron were surprised by the suddenness of it and in the same moment the light gradually subsided. Anna: What in the world was that just now…

The scenery around us returned to what it was before. Taken aback, I turned around, and King Byron laughed quietly. Byron: It looks like Emma went back. Anna: Oh! I realized that Emma, who was supposed to be in front of me, was no longer there. (So she went back already.) She was cute and had the same air of calmness about her as King Byron. Her image was still fresh in my mind and I felt a sting of loneliness in my chest.

Byron: What’s wrong? Anna: I’m glad that Emma returned to the future, but… Anna: I just felt a bit lonely, I guess. (I wanted to talk some more with our precious child.) I hung my head and then King Byron’s kind voice reached my ears. Byron: There’s nothing to feel lonely about. Anna: Huh…? Not understanding what he meant by those words, I raised my head and saw King Byron smiling lightly… Byron: I think the day when you meet Emma again is not that far away… Byron: Don’t you think so?

[Sweet 3-4]

Byron: I think the day when you meet Emma again is not that far away… Byron: Don’t you think so? Anna: …! The love radiating from his words and behavior made something stir in my chest. (The day when me and King Byron will become a happy family and meet Emma again…) (I’m sure it will come soon.)

Anna: No… I think so too. I answered shyly and King Byron nodded gently. When I imagined a future with the person dear to me, I was instantly filled with love. (I understand Emma’s feelings very well.) (Because I want to be with King Byron for a longer time.) (Even now.) I smiled bitterly at myself for these unintentional and childish thoughts. (Maybe Emma influenced me and now I want to be fawned on.)

(We were traveling incognito, so we must go back to the castle soon.) When I turned the tips of my toes towards the way home, someone pulled my waist towards themselves gently. Anna: …! King Byron? He was embracing me closely and we stood facing each other. While we were this close, I looked up to King Byron’s face… Byron: Why don’t we take a detour?

[Sweet 3-5]

(We were traveling incognito, so we must go back to the castle soon.) When I turned the tips of my toes towards the way home, someone pulled my waist towards themselves gently. Anna: …! King Byron? He was embracing me closely and we stood facing each other. While we were this close, I looked up at King Byron’s face… Byron: Why don’t we take a detour? Anna: Huh? Byron: We’re finally alone. It’s such a rare moment. Byron: It’s only natural to want this time to continue for a bit longer, right? King Byron said it in the same way he did when he talked with Emma and smiled lightly.

(So I wasn’t the only one who wanted to spend more time together.) The happiness welling up in me made me smile spontaneously. I was gazing at King Byron overcome with joy and his face was all I could see. Byron: Just a bit longer, us together. I closed my eyes and before long I felt warmth on my lips for a moment.

Anna: …! The repeated kisses made my heart race noticeably louder. Heat filled my whole face, and then King Byron loosened his embrace and offered me his arm. Byron: Your arm, please. Anna: Okay… I linked my arm with his as if it’s the most natural thing to do and King Byron laughed softly. (I will spend more time with King Byron, just like now, and someday I will meet Emma, I guess.) (Wait for me, Emma.) Step by step we headed towards our happy future…

PREMIER END

[Premier 3-1]

Emma: Wanting to play with mother more… Is that a bad thing? When Emma earnestly asked that question… Byron: It’s not a bad thing. King Byron answered in a determined manner and continued decisively.

Byron: However, sometimes you need to consider other people’s feelings rather than your own. Byron: As a member of the royal family, one day you will be in a position, where you need to protect the people of your nation. Emma: As a member of the royal family… The words aimed at Emma reached my heart as well. (Those words… Only King Byron could say them.)

King Byron learned how a royal family member should behave from a very young age. He’s reasoning with Emma, because he’s thinking about her future. Emma: Yes. I will apologize properly to everyone. Emma was looking at the ground, but she raised her head when she said this, her voice clear. The gloomy look disappeared from her face and the moment she see sighed with relief…

Anna: Oh! Byron: … Our surroundings were enveloped in white light. Anna: It looks like you’re about to go back. Emma: Yes. Emma nodded, turned around to King Byron and spoke. Emma: Father. I’ve got one last request. Emma: I want you to take off that thing hiding your face.

[Premier 3-2]

Emma: I want you to take off that thing hiding your face. (She means the eyepatch?) King Byron realized what she meant and took off his eyepatch. Byron: Is this what you wanted? Emma: Yes. I knew it. It’s the face you usually show and I love it the best. Emma said it with a soft smile and the light grew remarkably stronger. Anna: …!

I closed my eyes tightly because of the dazzling light, but I realized soon that it faded away. I opened my eyes slowly. Just as I expected, there was no Emma in the courtyard illuminated by the evening sun. Byron: It looks like Emma went home. Anna: Yes.

(Next time I meet Emma, it will be the moment when she is born.) When I imagined that day which is yet to come, I exchanged smiles with King Byron… That night… King Byron visited my room. I offered him the sofa and sat down on it too, next to him.

Anna: To meet your own future child. Even now I still cannot believe it, but… Anna: I feel like she cheered me up a little. Byron: Cheered up? Anna: Yes. Right now I feel that I need to work hard so that my child can live its life happily in the future. Anna: Children are life, don’t you think? Byron: Yes. That’s true.

King Byron answered with a gentle smile. He turned his somewhat meaningful gaze to me… Byron: The “life” you’re speaking about… There are two things like that for me now. Anna: Two…?

[Premier 3-3]

Byron: The “life” you’re speaking about… There are two things like that for me now. Anna: Two…? (First one is Emma…) I couldn’t quite imagine what the second thing was.

King Byron told me what is was in a somewhat mischievous tone. Byron: When I think that you’re by my side, I don’t feel any tiredness or pain. Byron: If I say it this way, does it ring a bell? Anna: Oh… (The second thing is… me…) The moment I realized the meaning behind his words, I felt warmth gradually spreading inside my chest.

Anna: I’m happy that you’re saying this… Anna: Please let me revise one thing then. Byron: Hm? Anna: Children and King Byron are life. King Byron: I see. King Byron half-closed his eyes, came closer to me quietly and kissed me. Even though our lips only softly touched, I could clearly feel the love and my chest heated up sweetly.

Byron: … We watched each other from a close distance, something natural to do, and then, accidentally, my focus was drawn to his hidden right eye. (Now that I think about it…) Anna: Emma said “the face you usually show” after seeing you without the eyepatch. Anna: Maybe you’re not wearing the eyepatch in the future?

[Premier 3-4]

Anna: Maybe you’re not wearing an eyepatch in the future? Byron: … I asked casually and King Byron seemed to think about it for a moment. He answered eventually, his expression calm. Byron: Who knows. Byron: We’ll know someday, I guess. Anna: True.

(It would be lovely if that happened.) (Because I want to see King Byron’s face more often.) Byron: What is it? Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t say anything. Curious about my silence, King Byron asked me that question. I hesitated a little, but I made up my mind, and told him what I was thinking.

Anna: Um… Tonight, could you remove your eyepatch? Byron: … Anna: Just like Emma, I like your face not hidden by anything.

Even though I felt that even my ears were red, I said it, and King Byron removed his eyepatch, laughing softly.

Byron: Are you satisfied now? Anna: What… His seductive words made my heart race and my reply was stuck in my throat. While I was unable to say anything, King Byron kissed me.

Anna: Nn…! His tongue parted my lips and slid inside my mouth. Entangled by the sweet heat, I forgot how to breathe, and I felt like the world was spinning. King Byron broke our deep kiss, and his intense eyes stared at me… Byron: Or… do you want more?

[Premier 3-5]

King Byron broke the deep kiss, and his intense eyes stared at me… Byron: Or… do you want more? Anna: Th-that’s… Because I felt shy, I tried to say no accidentally, but my words gradually faded into silence. (I want to be together with him, I want us to touch…) I was swaying between expressing my true feelings and embarrassment. King Byron put a hand around my back. His other hand pressed my shoulder and he slowly laid me on the sofa.

Byron: I don’t think I will be satisfied with just this, but I don’t intend to force you. Byron: So could you tell me what you wish for?

King Byron hovered over me and his words gently tickled my ear. (What I want right now is…) I traced with my finger the part of his face that was usually covered by the string of his eyepatch and I answered, my heart racing to the point that it was painful.

Anna: I want you… to touch me like this. Anna: I want to see more of your face that I love so much… Hearing that, King Byron caught my finger and placed a light kiss on the palm of my hand. Byron: All right, as you wish. King Byron’s lips glided along my hand, touching my upper arm and finally resting at the nape of my neck. Anna: K-King Byron…! Thrilled and excited, I gave voice to the sweet thrill I felt, and King Byron smiled with love at me… Byron: If you say that you love it, then I won’t hide anything, I will love you with all I’ve got.

[EPILOGUE] ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Byron: If you say that you love it, then I won’t hide anything, I will love you with all I’ve got. King Byron’s finger undid the ribbon of my dress. I frantically pressed a hand to my chest where my heart was beating so loudly. King Byron released the ribbon, and then he guided my hand to his jacket.

Anna: Huh!? Byron: If you wish, how about you do the same? (He’s saying that… I should undress him just like he undressed me.) Anna: O-okay… I replied, my voice fading into silence. I undid the buttons of King Byron’s jacket. More and more of our skin became exposed, and I felt embarrassment rising in me. While I quietly averted my eyes, King Byron’s jacket fell from his shoulders. And then he whispered in my ear, his voice teasing.

Byron: Are you sure you don’t want to look? Anna: Well…! Although I wanted to see King Byron’s face without the eyepatch, because my heart was racing, I was not in the state to watch. (If I do just a bit more, I will be less embarrassed, so… If I do so…) I calmed my heart down and immediately after dropping his shirt on the sofa… I felt a sweet sensation on my collarbone. Anna: Ah!

I realized that he traced it with his finger and I instantly looked up at him. King Byron watched me a little amused. Byron: Now don’t turn your face away. Byron: Didn’t you wish for this? After he said that, his finger slid down from my collarbone to my breast, and it tickled when he traced the side of it. Anna: M… …!

(Why, I wonder… I feel that today King Byron is very mischievous.) (Could it be because… He took off his eyepatch?) He traced it slowly, as if to tease me, and my mind became completely blank. His gaze made me feel shy. Suddenly, King Byron kissed my breast. Anna: Ah!

Because the thrill he gave me after the moment of light sweetness was too much, I felt tears in my eyes. Anna: Please… don’t tease me… so much… My breathing was uneven while I struggled to tell him this. King Byron softened his teasing mood a little, and my breast was freed from his lips. Byron: You sure have a lot of demands today.

Instead, now that his lips were free, King Byron took my hair in his hand and started to kiss it. Desperately trying to catch my breath, I stared at King Byron. Anna: Is it… bad that I do…? Byron: No, that’s not true. King Byron’s large hand slowly stroked my head. The overbearing heat turned into calmness and when I half-closed my eyes, King Byron slowly slid his fingers under the hem of my dress.

Byron: I will try to be more attentive, however… Anna: Huh…? …! He caressed my waist and I jumped from the surprise. Byron: It doesn’t seem like I will be able to stop completely. Byron told me this with a wry smile and there was heat in his eyes. Just this, made my skin rise. (When he stares at me with so much heat in his eyes, I’m willing to allow him to do anything he wants…) Anna: Then… a little… is okay… Byron: I see. My eyes glistened with embarrassment once again when King Byron came closer to me. He showered me with deep and sweet kisses, and slowly I became unable to think of anything… … …… Next day… As King Byron was returning to Stein, we both headed to the entry hall where I would see him off. (Oh…) In the middle of walking, when I saw the courtyard, I suddenly remembered the mysterious incident of Emma that happened yesterday.

[Flashback.] Emma: For father and mother. Anna: Thank you. Byron: They sure are pretty. [End of flashback.]

Maybe because of this short moment of happiness filling my mind, and because of the loneliness I felt, when I thought about King Byron and me being apart for a while again… my chest started to hurt slightly.

(Next time I’m able to meet King Byron… will be in three weeks?) (Somehow it feels so far away…)

Byron: Anna. Surprised, I looked up in the direction of the voice and saw that King Byron stopped walking and was staring at me worriedly.

Byron: Why the long face? Anna: No, uh, well… I shook my head and King Byron laughed softly for some reason. Byron: That personality of someone who worries too much might be something that makes you similar. Anna: Huh? Byron: I meant Emma. (Now that he said it, that might be true…)

Byron: Tell me what you’re thinking. Byron: I will listen to anything you say, no matter what it is. Together with sadness and happiness I felt, his sincere words overwhelmed me and I felt something in my chest quiver. (Emma summoned her courage and talked from the bottom of her heart.) (And King Byron said not to hide everything… So I will be brave too.)

Anna: It’s really nothing important. Anna: I just thought that it would be so long before we’re able to meet again… I said that having made up my mind and King Byron pulled my shoulders softly towards himself…

Byron: Even if there are times when we are apart, my heart will be with you. (King Byron…) His words filled with love erased my sadness instantly.

Anna: Yes… Me too. My heart is always with you. I look up at him with a smile, and King Byron’s serious expression changed into that of a gentle one. When I saw that expression, in place of loneliness, other emotions began to fill me.

Anna: I look forward to the day when we’re able to meet again. Byron: Me too.

(It’s like I never felt lonely to begin with.) (Because I realized that in the future I would be spending time with King Byron, and both our bodies and hearts would be close.)

Gentle wind rustled the flowers in the courtyard… As if blessing our future…

[THE END]

[fear-and-control]

Crane was stressed. That much Crowne could tell just by looking at him as he pushed open the hangar doors. There was a familiar slump to his narrow shoulders, as if he bore an invisible but heavy load, and though she couldn't quite make out his eyes behind the crooked frame of his glasses, the bags beneath them were apparent. He hadn't been sleeping again. Not that it came as much of a surprise, especially to her, but it didn't bode well. It was the grimace that sent up red flags, though- the ever so subtle working of his jaw that she had came to recognize over the years. Crane was overworked, and, from the look on his face, he was going to take it out on someone.

Not that Crowne was in a particularly good mood, either. When Crane was overworked, she was overworked. Never mind that it had only been two nights since she had gotten piss drunk with Crane at The Jackal's Den, or that she and Mary had sat Boston down just a few hours ago to have the hardest conversation of her entire life. She'd had errands to run, loan requests to file for that would undoubtably be denied, hospital bills to juggle for hopeless hours on end, Christmas presents to worry about, groceries to steal, medications to pick up at 2 AM... Not to mention that it had been two months since they'd made rent, and she hadn't gotten more than four hours of sleep in as many days. Needless to say, Tracy Crowne was stressed.

"Stone."

But there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

Stone bolted up from her chair, throwing down the cards in her hand as she did so and snapping to attention. Jackal, Hyne, Clyde, and Crowne followed suit. All pushing away from the rickety folding table they'd been playing euchre at for the past ten minutes, they turned on a dime to face Crane as he stomped into the room. Another red flag- Crane usually carried himself with a certain grace. It wasn't good when it fell. Either something bad had happened, or that wasn't Crane at all. Crowne wasn't sure which option she preferred.

Evidently, the same thought had occurred to Liza Stone. She ghosted an apprehensive finger across the wicked scar running the span of her face as Crane drew nearer, but retained that same nonchalant stoicism that Crowne had come to both respect and resent.

"Yeah, boss?" Stone asked, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets and leaning back against the table. Crowne wasn't buying her act- too stiff, and her eyes were darting around much too frequently. And if Crowne could see through it, she didn't doubt Crane could as well.

"I gave ya one simple job, did I not?" Crane asked, and there was an edge to his voice that instantly put Crowne on alert, even if he wasn't addressing her. She and Stone shared a brief glance, in which they agreed that this was, indeed, not Scarecrow, but Crane...and that it didn't really make much of a difference.

"Well, I mean, I wouldn't exactly call it simple, but-" Stone began, grinning sheepishly.

"What did I ask ya t' do, Stone?" Crane interrupted.

Oh, she was so fucked.

"...I was supposed to make sure all the test subjects stayed put...sir," Stone said.

"And d'ya know what I found when I went down t' the lab jus' now?" Crane asked.

For a moment, Crowne almost felt bad for her. Almost. Of course, she quickly recalled all the extremely lewd rumors Stone was so fond of circulating regarding her relationship to Crane. And suddenly, the moment had passed. Funniest thing.

"I mean, I could probably guess," Stone said, laughing nervously.

"One of the experimental group members is gone, Stone," Crane snapped, glaring down at her. "Care to explain how that happened?"

"Well, I mean-" Stone stammered, taking a reflexive step away from Crane.

"She was probably playing Fortnite again," Jackal said.

Stone wheeled on him with a vengeance. "Do you ever shut the fuck up, dumbass?"

The look Crane gave her would have frozen beer. "Whatever it was, you're gonna fix it now."

Stone opened her mouth, and for a moment Crowne thought she was going to argue, but evidently she thought better of it. "Which one got away?"

"Jacob Smith. African-American man, somewhere in his early thirties."

"Oh, the hot one?"

Crowne was very glad that she wasn't the only one who laughed. She at least had the sensibility to try and turn hers into a cough, however.

Crane sighed explosively, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If that's how ya recognize him, then yes. The hot one." Clearing his throat, he fixed Stone with a pointed look. "I don't wanna see ya until he's taken care of. I can't have 'im tippin' off the GCPD. Find him."

"By 'taken care of,' do you mean-" Stone began.

"Do whatever ya deem necessary. Just make sure he's not talkin'. And don't disappoint me again."

Stone bit her lip, no doubt in an attempt to hide the beginnings of a smile. "Yes-sir."

The look on her face was enough to turn Crowne's stomach as she watched her grab her gun and dart out the door. There were plenty of reasons for her to dislike the woman, but perhaps the best one was her stunning amorality. Stones in glass houses, yes, but the woman had a sadistic streak a mile wide. At least Crane had the decency to hide his.

"The rest of ya, start sortin' through the rest of those crates," Crane said with a dismissive wave of his hand. And, turning away and starting towards the room he'd converted into his office, he snapped his fingers. "Crowne."

"I'm not a dog."

She wasn't sure who was more surprised- her or Crane. The moment the words left her lips Crowne froze. The rest of her coworkers wheeled to look at her, eyes wide, and Jackal audibly gasped.

Crane blinked hard, raising an eyebrow and turning to look at her. "What was that?"

There was no backing down now. "I said, I'm not a dog."

Oh God, she was in too deep now. Everyone was looking expectantly between her and Crane now, and she didn't have to be a genius to see the look of shock on Clyde's face.

For a moment Crane regarded her coolly, but the working of his jaw gave him away. He was not happy with her. Crowne squared her shoulders, standing firm despite the lump in her throat. God, she was an idiot.

The room was dead silent until Crane pointed to the ground by his feet and snarled out his final order.

"Come."

Jackal and Hyne sucked in a tight breath. All eyes were on her now; there was nothing else for her to do. Face burning with shame, Crowne trudged her way across the room to stand beside him. Without a word Crane ushered her into his office, and away from the prying eyes of her coworkers. The second the door clicked shut behind them, Crowne wheeled on Crane.

"That was humiliating," she said. "Did you really have to-"

She didn't get the chance to finish. Without warning Crane grabbed her hard by the face, wrenching her chin up to look her in the eye.

"Don't ever undermine my authority again," Crane snarled.

Crowne stifled a scream, instead forcing herself to ignore the familiar thrill of fear that rattled up and back down her spine and meet his yellow glare evenly. "I thought we were past the intimidation and empty threats."

"What makes ya think they're so empty?"

Crowne's heart pounded in her chest. "Oh, please. You would've killed me a long time ago if you were going to."

Crane's face was inscrutable. She bit back a cry as he dug his fingers hard into her face, regarding her for a moment in tense silence, before finally releasing her and taking a step back. Crowne shook her head, rubbing her face where his nails had dug into her skin and working her jaw.

"Just because I pay ya more doesn't mean you can get a big head, Crowne," Crane said, sinking into the chair behind his desk.

Crowne looked over her shoulder at him, taking in the entire room. It had been a foreman's office once, and it was little more than a small alcove with a large desk in the center lit by a dim overhead lamp. In the corner was a large wire cage with a sheet thrown over it, in which she knew Poe was resting- the faint rustling of feathers gave her away.

"I'm aware of that, sir," Crowne said.

"An' just because I entrust certain responsibilities to ya doesn't mean ya get to argue with me in front of everyone else," Crane said.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Crowne took a step forward, planting a hand on his desk. "I'm not a servant. I'm an employee, I do a job, and if I'm not being treated like one, I'll walk."

Crane scoffed. "No you won't."

She opened her mouth to protest, but came up empty-handed. He was right, of course, but she didn't have to like it. With a frustrated sigh she threw herself down into the chair opposite of him.

"I do half your job, you know. You need me just as much as I need you," Crowne said.

"What're ya tryin' to suggest?" Crane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm just saying, a little respect wouldn't go amiss." Crowne was keenly aware that she was pushing her luck, but goddammit, she was stressed, she was humiliated, and she was tired of letting herself get stepped on just to earn a living.

"I give you preferential treatment!" Crane said, and for a moment he sounded almost indignant.

"And you use corporal punishment."

"I haven't done that for a long time!"

"You fear gassed me, like, three months ago."

"That was everyone there!"

"Alright, fine. What's my first name?"

Crane opened his mouth as if to answer, one finger raised in protest, but nothing came. The look of embarrassment on his face, however small, was worth its weight in gold.

"Fine. I accept your premise," Crane said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"It's Tracy," Crowne said, only because she knew he would never ask. "...But what was it you wanted to see me for in the first place?"

"Well, first off, I need ya to call Astro and confirm when he's gonna have that chemical shipment in," Crane said, running a hand along the stubble on his jaw.

"Astro?" Crowne said, groaning. "He's always so difficult. Never wants to deal with me."

"Well, tell 'im if he won't deal with ya, he's gonna hafta deal with me."

Crowne nodded, leaning back in her chair. There was no way in hell that was it. He wouldn't have pulled her aside just to have her make a phone call. "And?"

Crane nodded, mostly to himself, and for a long moment he said nothing. She knew better than to push him- he had that look on his face that meant he was thinking hard. Choosing his words carefully.

"In this next comin' week," Crane said, with that ubiquitous caution she'd come to know him for, "I'm gonna be bringin' on another associate."

It was Crowne's turn to cross her arms, blinking hard. "Just in time for Christmas, huh?"

Crane conceded with a tilt of his head. "Just about, yes. He's gonna be workin' very closely with me."

"And what does that mean for me?"

"It's not gonna have any effect on your pay, if that's what you're worried 'bout."

It was, in fact, precisely what she had been worrying about. She might not have been paying for additional treatment any longer, but Mary had accumulated quite the bill over the last few years, and Christmas was fast approaching. Barring that, though...

"What will it effect, then?" Crowne asked, observing Crane carefully, then added, "Will we have to work Christmas Day?"

Crane chuckled a bit at that. "No, we'll have no need of anyone by that point. You'll want to steer clear of the Diamond District, though."

"Funnily enough, I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Crowne said, then cleared her throat. A bit too casual there, Tracy. This was still Jonathan Crane, after all, and she'd just had a fight with him a few minutes ago.

"You'll both be doin' different jobs," Crane said. "Crowne, I want ya to treat 'im like you'd treat me. And I want to be sure everyone else does the same."

Crowne leaned back in her chair. "An apprentice, then?"

"Yes."

She nodded, lost in thought. Crane had tried to take apprentices before. Everyone knew about Becky Albright, of course, but there'd been another girl as well. Jones, was it? She'd never actually met one of them, though; he'd never gotten them to stay long enough. Not that she was going to say that out loud, of course. The implications were troublesome, to say the least.

Things were going to get interesting around here.

"I see. Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes. Get on that call, please. I'll be in here if there's any trouble."

"Yes, sir."

Respect.

[geth-consensus]

I was hit with inspiration for a completely off the wall type of short story today. I just had to write it.

Club Smackdown

Rain poured down hard on the city. But the neon glow illuminated it, defending it from the darkness of the night. From her perch on the rooftop she rested on one knee watching the crowds swarming the high class club on the other side of the street. "Vermin" she muttered to herself. She could see even from up here the poorly disguised guards placed strategically throughout the crowd. "Heh. And there are the rats among the mice, time to make myself some Swiss cheese" "Stay focused idiot. You're not here to kill the fucking lackies, you're here to take out the big cheese." the voice in ear piece said to her. "Hey! The rat thing was my pun! Get your own fucking material!" she said furiously back into the piece. The voice simply scoffed in response with a "whatever" thrown in for good measure and went silent. She sat there for a minute longer gauging the situation before asking "You're positive he's in there?" "Couldn't be more sure of it. The club only has this much security when he's in." "So I can expect a hell of a lot more rats inside then huh?" "I'd be willing to bet on it sweetheart." Her lips parted in a feral grin. "Perrrrrfect" she purred. She stood up and drew her dual blades out. She leaned over the side and looked directly down at the pavement beneath her. One very obvious rat stood there, trying to be discrete in the shadows, keeping an eye out for trouble was he? Well then he was looking the long way she thought to herself as she stepped off the ledge and dropped from the rooftop.

Another pissant day he thought to himself, why the fuck was he assigned to stand guard out here in the rain. What the hell were they guarding against anyway? He didn't care. What he did care about was the fact the crowd kept bustling him around and was starting to make him agitated. He really could do with shooting something right about now...

The sudden wail of a high pitched scream from across the street turned his head along with everyone else, the boy stationed as lookout was gone, where he had been now stood a gorgeous blonde women. She was draped in blood. His eye caught something at her feet, it was what was left of the boy, who she had apparently cleaved clean in two as both halves lay on either side of her. 'Good' he thought with a smile, finally something to shoot at.

She didn't wait for them to react, charging forward absurdly quickly she slit the neck of a stunned guard, then another, and another. By the time the fourth one fell the others had finally regained enough sense to pull out there weapons and start shooting at her, paying no heed to the crowd of people who were all screaming and running around, all of which were clambering over one another to escape the blood bath. "HEY DUMBASS! EVER HEARD OF KEEPING IT DISCRETE!" the voice in her ear roared. "EVER HEARD OF SHUTTING THE FUCK UP!" she yelled back, slitting another three rats into giblets as she did so. Weaving between the bullets of morons who couldn't shoot for shit was too easy, boring almost.  They may as well have just been shooting the sky for all the good it would do them. She needed to jazz this up a bit, something with a little more flare was needed. Spinning the blade in her right arm around it wreathed itself in white flames and came back to rest as a silver shotgun. "Ahhh, Petal. That look is gorgeous on you" she purred to it. The gun vibrated in her hand, revelling in the delight of that fact. She raised it and took aim at the nearest cheese muncher, she pulled the trigger. White flames burst from the end with no discernible projectile. But that didn't stop the rats head blasting off its shoulders. "Nice!" she said. "Hey Thorn! You want in on this action!" The black blade in her other hand shivered as well in glee. A quick twirl later and she was now dual wielding twin death. "Real subtle..." the voice in her ear said with expatriation. "Subtlety never won any style awards honey." she said with a grin. She continued to make mince meat of the frankly pathetic security detail until the street was at last quiet, the rats inside must have had the much wiser idea of staying away from the magical gun toting maniac.

Placing Petal over her shoulder she walked over to the iron door that had been slammed closed over the main door and knocked on it with Thorn. "Yo assholes, open up. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way I'll be getting in there!" After a few moments it was clear she was not going to be getting a response. She sighed. "Now what genius," the voice cooed in her ear, "going to blast your way through solid metal?" "What now?" she replied. "Now we do things the hard way. Which just so happens to be my favourite way." she said with a smile of true glee written upon her face.

They stacked every bit of furnishing they could against the door and stacked up behind improvised barricades in a wide semi circle around the front door. He was panting hard, he had just managed to flee inside before they had slammed the door shut. That psycho bitch was insane, she had slaughtered a legion of men without breaking a sweat! But they were safe now! There was no way she could get through seven inches of reinforced steel!

The ground beneath them shook slightly as though a large vehicle was driving by and then stopped suddenly. They sat there watching the door, wondering what the hell that could mean. Suddenly a man popped out from a side room yelling "RUN! GET OUT-"

Whatever else he had to say would never be heard as the front of the building exploded inward as the gas truck the crazed blondie had acquired detonated. Those near the front were vaporised instantly, one unfortunate soul was splattered against the far wall behind the steel door, which to its credit had only slightly crumpled under the blast.

The survivors were still picking themselves up when, as they looked towards the blazing inferno of what had been the buildings front, they saw the silhouette of a figure standing there, a shotgun draped over her shoulder and the other hanging loose by her side. "Told you fuckers I'd be coming in." the women cooed.

"You're absolutely insane. You know that right?" the voice said.

"Bitch probably! But you can't have this much fun when if you have it all together!" she exclaimed while turning rats into corpses. They folded before her like wet tissue paper, it wasn't really even that much fun she thought sadly, even the shotguns couldn't make killing them interesting. "Why don't you try bare handed then?" the voice asked.

"And deny Petal & Thorn the joy of killing them? I couldn't do that to them!" she said incredulously. The voice simply sighed in response. "Just tell me how much further till I reach the dickshit alright."

"Well from what I can recall it's just passed the main casino floor, office at the back of it is usual hold out." the voice said.

"Hold the fuck up I thought this was a club! What kind of club has a casino floor!?" the blondie said like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"Apparently this kind. Just keep it focused dipshit. Reach him, kill him, then contemplate why the club has a casino."

"Fuck off bitch! I can multitask!" Blondie yelled back. She blasted her way onto the overview of the casino floor, kicking the rat in front of her through the balustrade and down onto a roulette table. She gazed down to see at least fifty guns pointed back at her. "Fuck this" she said spinning Thorn a rocket launcher and Petal into a flamethrower. Blood, flames and guts rained down on everything for a solid five minutes until at last Blondie was the last one standing atop a toppled slot machine.

"You know those weapons of your are really not very sporting, I believe the kids call it OP?" the voice said in her ear.

"Fuck fair! I'm all about winning bitch!" she said.

"Yeah I know but I-" whatever the voice said Blondie missed as she ducked under the crack of a whip sailing over her head. "Watch out!" the voice cried.

"Yeah no fucking shit dipshit." Blondie said. The whip belonged to a drop dead gorgeous women in a red dress with fiery red hair to match. She stood on top of a snapped roulette table and brandished her whip over her head. "And who the fuck are you?" Blondie said.

"I am your demise!" she said without further elaboration. A full five seconds followed that statement and then Blondie burst out laughing.

"Holy shit! Wow! I've heard some real fucking bad on liners in my time, but you just took first fucking prize bitch!" she said gasping for air. The outburst of laughter had clearly annoyed the red women, who had a vein pulsing in her forehead and her face had contorted into one of fury.

"Ugh, girl. You may want to tone it back a notch." the voice said.

"Or what!" she said as she started to sob laugh, "She's going to bring me to 'bring me to my doom' or some shit." The machine beneath Blondie exploded as the whip cracked it in half sending her crashing to the floor. Still laughing she rolled backward and stood up. "Oh my dear, thank you, I needed a good laugh today. You've really brightened up what was otherwise a rather dreary mission so far."

The ground beneath her detonated in a shower of material as the whip slammed where Blondie should have been, except she wasn't, she was already standing on an adjacent roulette table. "Well darling, thanks for the giggles. But I got someone to kill so let's make this quick shall we."

"Don't you dare underestimate me you harlot! I will destroy you here and-" she stopped mid sentence as Blondie was suddenly right in her face. How the fuck had she done that!? She had been at least 20 feet away not two seconds ago. It was impossible! But that wasn't even the most shocking thing, that was reserved for the full embrace of the harlot's lips pressing on to hers.

A full moment passed as they stood locked in an embrace. Then there was sound of a click beneath her chin as there lips parted. "Pretty good...but I've had better. Thank anyway Red." Then the sound of a shotgun blast was last thing she knew.

"Right can we fucking refocus?" the voice cried in her ear.

"On?" she asked wiping blood of her face.

"You know what idiot! The damned mission!" the voice said.

"Oh yeah! Right! The mission!" she said jumping from the table and walking over to the office door in the back of the casino. Ripping it open she found the room totally empty, except for a gaping great hole that led outside to a back alley. Sticking her head out she heard the screech of tires to her right. She ran down the alley to find a small motorcade of card racing away. "Motherfucker! Running like the punk ass bitch he is!" Blondie yelled.

"Well now what? You aint going to catch him running now are you?" the voice said. Looking across the street she spied a parked motorcycle, she grinned. "You haven't got the keys moron" the voice said.

"I don't need the keys" she said sauntering over to it. Raising Thorn to point at it she said "Start" in the most commanding voice possible. The engine roared to life and she mounted it slinging the guns over her back.

"Words fail me" the voice said with utter exasperation.

"Just role with it loser. Just accept that I'm that fucking good!" Blondie yelled as she reared the bike into a wheelie and raced off down the street after the motorcade.

That damned psycho chick! Twenty years of building an empire gone up in literal flames. Now he was going to have to start over somewhere else, a whole new country was what he needed now. A place to lie low for a while till he could sort all this shit out. His thoughts were interrupted by the flare of an engine somewhere behind them announcing its arrival. "Hey boss. I think that bitch is catching up with us!" the driver said.

"Then do something about it you morons! That's what I pay you for!" he yelled back.

A voice suddenly carried out from behind them, how it could be heard over the roar of the wind or sounds of car and bike engines is a question no one could ever answer. Not that any of those who could have asked it would live long enough to ever give the question much more thought. "Hey fuckos! Just hand over your boss and you can all live ok! I completely totally promise!" it said.

"Heh. She's delusional if she thinks that-" he was cut off her voice again cut over him. "Of course I'm being serious asshole! I always keep my promises!...What? I'm still projecting my voice? Oh...whoops." and the voice promptly went silent again.

She was coming up in the first car fast, the hadn't sopped do she assumed it was going to be the hard way again. She wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Tearing Petal out she blasted the back wheels apart and car began to screech and jerk wildly from side to side. 

Pulling up along side it she blasted the windows out killing whoever was behind them, a quick glance told her what she needed to know. He wasn't in this car. She accelerated away as the car span of to the side and collided with a lamppost in a spectacular crash.

"Come on dickhead. Which one is you" she said looking from car to car ahead of her. There really only was one way to decide it. " Eeny, meeny, miny, moe" she began to sing.

"Fucking really" the voice said in her ear. Blondie ignored it and kept singing. She settled on the car on the far right and raced towards it. But now the cars were responding, windows were rolling down and gun were pointing out of them. 'Hah' she thought. Like those were going to help them. They opened up as she approached the car as she jerked the bike around dodging them.

"Hah!" she yelled, "Like those are going to do anything to help you rats!" Her mirth was cut shirt as a stray bullet struck and burst her front tire. She was jettisoned forward from the seat and into the air. She somersaulted and landed on all fours on top of the car that had been ahead of her. "Fucking assholes" she said standing up and blasting shots into the roof. The car violently veered off towards the lead car ahead of it, as it slipped behind it she leapt on to it's roof and was met with a hail of bullets buzzing up through it.

They fired straight up as he hunkered down in his seat trying to take what cover he could. There was a dull thud from the roof and then the sound of sliding and then silence. Everyone in the car looked behind them, trying to see if they could spot her body. There was a tapping on the front window, they tuned to see her squatting on the hood of the car. "You rats need to work on your aim. Here, let me give you a demonstration on how to." she said levelling her shotguns at them, She pulled the trigger killing the driver and the front passenger instantly.

The car began to spin violently until it's momentum carried it over on to its side. It screeched to a halt in the middle of the highway. A door popped open and a rat started to climb out. Blondie casually sliced his head off as she sat on the side of the vehicle waiting for that to happen. Looking down into the car she was met with the barrel of a gun. "Dodge this!" a voice yelled and the sound of a shot rang out.

Blondie dodged it. Grabbing the gun she pulled upward, lifting it and the diminutive man it belonged too with it. "Ah! At last Mr Gator! I've been trying to make your acquaintance all evening! It's so nice to finally meet you." He barked at that and let go, he started trying to scamper away. "Ah ah ah. I've waited all night for this." she said throwing Thorn at him and impaling him through the gut into the ground.

"You know in someone's else's story they might now have a long heart to heart, or maybe a lengthy monologue about who I am and why I came to kill you. But we both already know why I'm here and why I'm killing you. So I think we can skip that part, don't you?" Blonide said grinning and sauntering over to him.

"Fuck you bitch" he said coughing up blood. "Who the fuck do you think you are!?"

"Who am I? I thought we already established we don't need to discuss that. But if you insist I'll tell you this. The only person I am that matters to you is who I am right now." she said levelling her gun at his head.

"And who the fuck is that then." he said.

"The blonde bitch killing you." She pulled the trigger.

[r95irth]

Oh my... That angsty Satoru fic was, well angsty and cute. Dunno if you still in writting mood but it would be cute to see Satoru meeting his siblings (and see him freaking out while waiting in the delivery room because "My mom is in pain!!!") I love your writing and the Better care AU so much

I’m glad you liked it !! 

Yes i’m still in the writing mood don’t worry. I’m just a bit slower because it’s a workday ^^  So here is the scene you’re asking. But take it with caution, because Rei and Hino are @akeemi-life’s babies, so she had her word on the scene. I might change things / rewrite things if she points out flaws or anything she doesn’t like. ^^ 

Momocounted the time between contractions. It had been a while now that she hadbeen awake, and in pain. But she didn’t want to bother until she was absolutelysure that it was time.

And now shewas absolutely sure.

She rolledup a bit and poked Shouto’s head, putting a kiss on his cheek.

-Shouto…Shouto,I think you should wake up.

Shoutomumbled something in his sleep, then nodded, and rose a bit. Eyes stillsclosed, he went out of the bed in a zombie-like state. Momo followed, takingher bags -she checked everything, for the thousand time. She winced, havinganother contraction. But it was okay, they were about to go and…It’s only whenshe heard the water in the bathroom that she started to worry.

-Shouto…?

She found himbrushing his teeth, and he gave her a tired look.

-I’m almostdone, you can take the shower first if y’want, he yawned.

Momo was alady, always calm, composed, and polite. But right now she decided to screw allher education because she was having contraction for almost three hours now,and she was tired, and in pain and shouto was brushing his fucking teeths notunderstanding that she was having their babies right now.

-And unlessyou want me to give birth right here I suggest you take me to the hospital NOW!

Maybe thatwas not the kindest way to wake him up, and not their usual way. But at least,this time it worked. Shouto dropped the toothbrush, eyes growing wide, as hevoiced his illumination with a dead-voice:

-Ah.

Yes. Ah.

***

Satoru wokeup in the middle of the night, and he didn’t know why. He tried to get back to sleep,but he wasn’t tired anymore (which made no sense because he was always sleepy).After a while, he decided that there was no use in trying anymore, so he wokeup and went to his desk to work on a bit. Tomorrow was a free day, January 13,there were supposed to celebrate adult or something like that. Well, teacherthought that free-day mean extra-day for homeworks apparently. Satoru thoughtthat, if he wasn’t sleeping he could at least use his no-sleeping-time wisely.Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to focus on his work one bit neither. What waswrong? He wondered. He tried to recall his dreams, nothing, he tried to analyzehis thoughts (maybe it was not him that was not tired but one of the people hewas connected to?) and bingo. Something was up. Shouto and Momo were awake -hecould feel their presence in his mind despite the late hour. And they were…

He frowned.Happy, and yet panicked? Why is th…

Satoru’stired brain put two and two together and he dashed out his bedroom, almosthitting the doorframe in the process. He didn’t care and went straight to knockat Aizawa’s door. The face that his teacher had when he opened was not human atall. Bloody-eyes, hair likes tentacles, and a cringed smile on his face as hesaid:

-I hope youhave a very good reason to wake me up.

Satoru had,a reason so good he wasn’t even scared by his teacher’s anger.

-Momo ishaving her babies! I need to go to the hospital right now!

-You what.

-Hospital.Now. Give me the authorization please!

For a hero,Aizawa sure took his time to analyze, and understand the whole situation. Heblinked once. Then frowned and scratched his eyes. Then blinked a second time.And slammed the door. Satoru stood there, eyes wide, and a little bit lost. Hehadn’t expected such a reaction (to be frank he hadn’t think of anythingbecause Momo was having babies, right now)!

He startedto make plan; maybe he could go to Mahô’s room, she had enchanted her closet sothe door could lead to her mom’s bookstore. But the bookstore was far away fromthe hospital Momo was supposed to go. And Mahô really needed to sleep, she wasalready at her limit. As Satoru was considering the option of him, simplyescalading the wall (yes he was that desperate) the door slammed again. Aizawawas back, fully dressed and his had his keys on his hand.

-You shouldhurry up and takes your things. I called Midnight, she will be here to take myplace in 30 minutes.

He didn’thave to repeat this twice.

***

Shouto didn’texpect him, or Aizawa, to arrive in the hallway. They all stared at each other,not sure what to say. Then Shouto sighted:

-Of courseyour power. I should have…How did you manage to get here though?

-Aizawadrove me here. How did you manage to get here in one piece?

Shoutolooked like shit, with his bedhair and his lost gaze, he still had toothpast onhis cheek and shirt. Satoru really hoped that he didn’t drive in this state, hewasn’t such a good driver in the first place, but with Momo giving birth nextto him? It was a miracle they made it here in one piece.

-Momocalled Bakugou, explained Shouto. -He’s sleeping in the car right now, said hecouldn’t sleep in the hallway because of the-

There was ascream next door, and Satoru recognized Momo’s voice.

-Aren’tdoctor supposed to give her anesthesic or something? He paniqued.

Shouto’sface was as pale as Satoru’s, as he nodded:

-Yes butthey say it doesn’t work during the actual…work?

-What thefuck, it’s totally bullshit if it isn’t!

-SATORULANGUAGE I CAN HEAR YOU! Screamed Momo from the next room.

If she tookthe time to correct him, Satoru supposed she was okay, but…He kind of wishedthat his quirk would allow him to relieve her from the pain, but that didn’t workthat way, unfortunately. If he kissed her, he could say to the doctor what waswrong in her body, and probably helped her to use her muscles better, though.Could he do that? He almost proposed it, but then Momo let out another screamand Shouto turned his head.

-I’m…I willbe with her. Stay in the hallway Satoru, okay? I will keep you infor-

-I can bether-

Aizawa gothim by the collar and forced him to sit in the bench.

-No. It’snot a kid’s place in there.

-But I’venever heard her suffer so much, there must be someth-

-You’realready here, and she has Shouto for that. It’s her battle, not yours.

Shouto gavehim a hug, and a bit of a smile, before he went back in the room.

-It’s goingto be okay, he said.

He didn’tlie, but he didn’t believe it either. He was hoping it would be okay, that wasnot the same at all! But what else could they do? It was naturalSo Satoru satdown, and waited. And it was worse than waiting in his room at UA, because herehe could hear every little scream. He didn’t like that at all. He feltpowerless and useless. He felt like doing something but unable to do anything.He felt like his world was crumbling and he could do was staring.

Aizawa fellasleep on the bench, and Satoru envied him a bit, there was no way he could.His heart was beating like crazy in his chest and his brains was so worried itstarted to imagine every little thing that could go awfully wrong.

***

Fortunatelynothing went wrong. Everything was perfect even. Momo was resting in herhospital bed, with a happy smile on her face. It was hard to believe that shehad been suffering all night. She did look tired, with her hair down and thebag under her eyes, but her smiles was so radiant it blinded everything else. Inher arms there were two little babies, one with a bunch of white hair on thetop of his head, while the other was as red as fire.

Shouto satat her bedside, and he took Satoru’s hand to make him come closer. Satoru feltlike his legs were made of jelly, about to gave out under his weight at anymoment. Yes, he was very aware that Momo had babies in her belly, before. Heeven felt one kick once, when he had put his hand on her tummy. But now…? Nowthe kick he received came from a tiny little foot, and the foot was to one ofthe baby right here and gods. They were so tiny and calm, how could one everkick so strongly?! He felt like meeting a person he only heard about formonths. Which was, certainly true, in a sense…?

-Satoru,whispered Momo. -This, is Hino, she said as she presented the red hair one.

-And thisis Rei, added Shouto, as he poked the white-haired one in his adorable babycheeks.

Honestly,Satoru rarely found baby adorable, they were rather ugly at birth. But thosetwo, those two were the cutest, the most adorable little boys he ever met.

-Do you wantto hold one? Asked Momo with a smile.

-Huh? I’mnot sure I’m…

What if hedropped him? What if he hurt him? What if he hold him wrong and then he droppeddead and…Before he could say anything she put Hino into his arms. The babyfrowned, let out a cute squeal, yawned and leaned a bit more against Satoru’schest. Satoru didn’t know how his pounding heart didn’t wake the baby up, itwas a mystery, but he seemed fine, and healthy and okay, so Satoru refused tomove even a finger after that just in case he would break the baby’s peace. Tohis surprise, Momo gave Rei to Shouto, who went as still as Satoru, as iffrozen into place. They both shared a nervous glare, while Momo let out asnort.

For a moment, Satoru glanced down, and tried to get his head around the very idea that it was here.

-Hi Rei, i’m your Papa, said Shouto with a the sweetest grin on his face. -I hope you’re okay with me. 

You’re already are the best papa ever wanted to say Satoru, but his throat was too big and mouth weighted tons on his tongue. Because now. Shouto and Momo were parents. And...

-Hello there...I’m your big brother, he whispered. -Satoru. Nice to meet you Hino.

He poked the baby’s cheek and couldn’t help but chuckle as the little one blinked at him, slightly offended. 

Momo put an hand on both of their shoulders and pulled them all into a hug. 

-They couldn’t find better big brother and papa. 

-They also have the best Mama, agreed Shouto. 

Then therewas a flash, and they all rose their head to see Aizawa, camera in his hand.

-For myalbum, he said.

There wasno doubt about which one he was talking about this time.

[athyrabunlord]

LLSHP 7 - Unbreakable Vow

Arc1: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

Arc2: [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14]

Arc3: [Chapter 15 -  Under The Black Lake (TBD)]

Interlude: [Carbonado (1)] [Carbonado (2)] [Of Feathers and Wind] [Delphinus (teaser blip)]

[Brief note about School Term] [other LLSHP AU stuff] [YohaMaRuby concept arts] [ChikaYouRiko concept arts] [KanaDiaMari concept arts] [Hogwarts Staff]

[FFN link] (finished the interludes!) [Pixiv Link]

A/N: (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ That’s right, an update so early instead of bi-monthly lmao *cries* Anyway, there’s a lot of information and HP jargon in this chapter, but hopefully they’re self-explanatory enough within the scenes. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and thanks for your support! Note: I’ll be editing previous chapters and finally upload on FFN or AO3 to avoid those Keep Reading issues. For the time being, if there’s a problem loading this chapter, I’ve uploaded on pixiv [here] too :’D Words: 5,647

She jolts awake with a strangled cry.

Her eyes dart about in confusion. The sky is high above her, and what is this warm and furry thing beneath her? It seems to be moving, no, carrying her on its back? Where is she? What’s going on?

Her head throbs horribly, forcing her to curl up. This movement causes her to fall off onto the ground, though she barely feels the pain. It’s nothing compared to that agony in her chest.

She tearfully peers through her bangs, noting a massive canine is hovering above her with its jaws slightly agape. She recoils from terror and waves her arm feebly to see if the wolf would back off.

To her shock, dark and wispy tendrils of magic whirl around her arm and shot out towards the wolf, which hops away with a startled growl. She could feel herself hyperventilating now as uncontrollable magic continues to ooze from her body.

Snarling, the wolf paws at the ground and bares its fangs at the tendrils. It is then that she notices someone else behind the creature, a girl who looks vaguely familiar but her cloudy mind hurts too much for her to think properly.

The petite brunette is shouting something and would have run towards her if the wolf hasn’t blocked her way. Yoshiko, is it? Is that my name? Am I Yoshiko? The girl desperately repeats the name again and tries to move around the wolf to get to her.

“No! Don’t come near me!” The dark strands of magic lash out, but the wolf jumps in front of the brunette just as the tendrils solidify and slice into its flesh. With a pained yip, the canine morphs into an older girl with long ponytail, holding a bleeding arm.

The blood and the transformation surprise her so much that the swirling black haze around her dissipate a little.

“Petrificus totalus!”

 A spell shots through the haze and strikes her fully. Her limbs lock in place and she falls backwards rigidly. In spite of being rendered immobile, the shrouds of inky magic continue to seep out of her body. The more she panics, the wilder these sentient tendrils become.

“Yoshiko-san!” She recognizes that voice too, but her inability to place a name and face to it freaks her out more.

Just what’s going on? Why can’t she control her body?

“Yoshiko-chan, please snap out of it!”

Prone on the ground, she can only stare blankly at the sky, though her limited view is misting over with all that intangible magic shroud.

Someone… help me…

“Yoshiko-chan!”

A girl with a soft smile flashes in her mind and it matches with this voice. The brunette from earlier.

Zuramaru…?

“I am sorry, Hanamaru-san, but I need to Stun her now. Stupefy!”

There’s a streak of red light and she knows no more.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“So where are you from, Yoshiko-chan?”

“It’s Yohane!”

“Yo-ha-ne? What is that zura? Can you eat it?”

“... is that all you think about, eating?”

“Yes! I love the tea and cakes Grandma makes, and the sweet yam Grandpa likes to grill in the yard zura~ Oh, here!”

“What’s this, some sort of bread?”

“Yup! Noppo-pan! I love sharing it with you Yoshiko-chan!”

“It’s Yohane! Grrr, call me by my real name, silly mortal.” Nom nom nom. “But hnff, I’ll forgive you since this offering is yummy. Why do you want to know where I’m from?”

“You’re always here whenever Grandpa and Grandma drop me off. I live over there, in the temple zura! How about you?”

“Ku ku ku, I came from the heavens, y’know!”

“A-Are you an angel then?”

“Nope, I can’t fly anymore cuz I fell… so I’m a fallen angel!”

“Oh… so what’re you gonna do then?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I’ll return to the sky!”

She climbed onto the very top of the monkey bars and pointed upwards. The small brunette gazed at her in awe, clapping with her tiny hands and ochre eyes sparkling. However, a moment later, tears well up and trickle down her pudgy cheeks.

“W-Why are you crying?!”

“Uuuaaa! Yoshiko-chan is going to disappear! Uuuaaa!”

“What!? No I’m not! What makes you think that?” Panicking, she hopped down from the bars and scraped her knees and palms from the landing. Ignoring the pain, she hurried towards the sobbing girl and hugged her.

“Y-You said y-you’re going to -hic-  return to the -hic- sky! I-I’m not an angel, so I can’t -hic- go with you!”

“What? That’s silly. You’re silly, Zuramaru.”

“What -hic- do you mean?”

“When I return to the sky, I’ll bring you with me, duh! So stop crying already.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Yes, someone was crying and there were whispered conversations around her. Silence took over and she felt like she was swimming through a murky swamp. Unfamiliar images glided past her yet instilled a sense of nostalgia as she trudged by. A distorted voice was saying something but she couldn’t make out what.

All she knew was to move towards the light. It was a mere dot in the distance, but having a destination, a goal, kept her mind focused. She doesn’t know how long she’s struggled forward, but eventually she summons enough strength to shout out.

“I’m… Yoshiko. Yoshiko Tsushima!”

The indistinct voice becomes louder. “And who is Yohane?”

“The fallen angel of course!”

“Who is the fallen angel Yohane?”

“Yohane is me!”

The voice, sinister and airy, giggles. “No, you will never ever be Yohane.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Yoshiko gasps hoarsely as her eyes snap open. She frantically sits up and looks around her, her ragged breaths the only thing she can hear in this silent room. Upon seeing the covered Mirror of Erised at the corner, she realizes that she’s in the Room of Requirement. She reaches into her pocket and freezes in fear when she couldn’t find her wand. The green scarf, charmed by Dia to stop her peculiar trances, is not around her neck.

Feeling vulnerable, she grips the cushion beneath her and surveys the room again with cautious eyes. It’s actually a lot more spacious than she thinks, for there is an open area behind her filled with rows of bookshelves, lab benches and cauldrons.

And there is someone coming towards her!

She lunges for the tea cup on the nearby table, hoping to use the broken shard as a last resort. Alas, she gets frozen in mid-motion and curses inwardly at her naivety. Of course, whoever brought her here must be a witch or wizard.

“Please calm down, Yocchan.”

“Lily-?”

Nodding, Riko gazes at her carefully and only lowers her wand after she appears certain of something. Now able to move again, Yoshiko presses her hand against her chest, which aches a little, and slumps back against the cushions with a huff.

“Does it hurt?” The Ravenclaw doesn’t wait for her response and pours a translucent liquid from a pot.

“Um, what happened and why am I-?”

“Drink this first.” Riko’s voice is flat, leaving no room for argument. Even then, Yoshiko remains skeptical and does not move to accept the steaming potion.

“N-Not until you tell me what happened, Lily,” she tries to use her commanding, husky voice, though her throat is too parched for any sort of effects.

The older girl furrows her brows. “I will, but you need to drink this first. This potion… it’ll help in calming you.”

“Calming me? I think I’m pretty calm right now-?”

“It’ll also make you feel slightly weak, since it would suppress your magical power for a period of time,” Riko raises her voice just as Yoshiko is about to protest. “As a precaution, so that you will not go out of control again.”

“Out of control? Just what do you-”

“Why don’t we talk first, Rikocchi? She can drink the potion as we go along. I’d do the same if I were in her shoes,” a silhouette seems to have appeared out of nowhere, stepping out from the shadows with light smile.

“M-Mari-san?” Yoshiko has many tutor sessions with Riko, and has talked to Mari on a few occasions, but for some reason she feels very intimidated now that she’s alone with these two Ravenclaws.

“In the flesh~ Now, I’ll need you to answer something first before we start talking. What do you remember? And please don’t lie,” there’s something predatory about the senior’s feline-like gaze. “I will know if you do, capisce?”

Yoshiko gulps, feeling even more nervous now. Perhaps drinking the potion doesn’t seem so bad? She helplessly glances at Riko, whose demeanor is unreadable as she sits on the couch opposite of her. Mari is standing behind her housemate, her arms folded and draped on the backrest.

“Well, there were a lot of images…? Memories, maybe, before I woke up but I honestly don’t remember. They’re all so vague,” Yoshiko rubs at her temple, feeling a prickle in her head as she tries to recall. “And before that, I thought I was flying - ah, You-san lent me her broom, and then I found Zuramaru by the Lake and- wait! Where’s Hanamaru? Where is she now?”

Before she could spring up from her seat, her movements are locked again by the same spell, and the more she tries to struggle, the harder the body-binding spell becomes.

“Hanamaru-san is fine, Yocchan. Please drink this potion now.” Perhaps it is the slightly panicked gleam in those amber eyes, or the fact that a faint, shadowy veil of something is seeping out of her own arm, but she obediently drinks the potion with haste.

The liquid isn’t as bitter as she imagined, and it warms her chest and makes her rather dazed in a pleasant way. When she glances down again, she is relieved to see nothing around her arm. Just for a good measure, she prods at her own limb and notices nothing out of ordinary.

“What… was that?”

Mari’s humorous tone has a frigid edge to it. “We’ll get to that in a bit. So, yes, you were talking to Hanamaru-chan, and you fainted for some reason. Kanan heard her cries for help and was carrying you two back towards the castle when you, well, for the lack of better word, went bonkers. Dia arrived in time and dispatched you. She took Hanamaru-chan and Kanan elsewhere to treat their injuries, and left you with us.”

“To treat-? T-They got hurt? Because of me-?”

Yoshiko really couldn’t remember anything, no matter how desperately she tries. Mari’s cheerful giggle has never sounded so menacing until now.

“Oh yes~ Hanamaru-chan got a few scrapes here and there but she’s mostly fine, just rather shaken up and understandably so. While Kanan… well, she’s lucky her arm stays attached to her body~”

“Mari-san. It’s not Yocchan’s fault,” Riko says severely.

The blonde stares at Yoshiko’s bewildered face and sighs after a few tense moments. “I know, I know. It’s just, I’m worried and, no, you’re right, sorry. Let me try that again. Yoshiko Tsushima, we’ve been watching you since Day1, back on Platform 9 ¾.”

“You what?”

With a Cheshire grin, Mari morphs into a familiar golden cat and paws at Riko’s scarf as if it were an ordinary pet. Yoshiko blinks once, twice and again. What the freaking hell just happened?! One moment Mari was a human, and now she was this cat? No wonder the cat’s chartreuse eyes always seem so familiar, so human! No wonder it always gives her advice and understands her words, because it’s been a human all along!

“W-What sorcery is this!? No, that’s not the point - you’ve been spying on me since the beginning? And I’ve told you so many things about me, about the orphanage-!”

Truth be told, Yoshiko feels rather betrayed.

Ears flattened, the cat leaps behind the couch and instantly changes back. “You’re understandably upset, but I promise I have never shared what you’ve told me to the others. Your secrets stay with me. That’s why I’ve revealed my secret to you just now, to make things fair - I’m an unregistered Animagus, so don’t tell anyone else, alrighty? Then again, after what happened, you’ll find out eventually now that we’re bringing you into the loop.”

“Why should I trust you?” Yoshiko glares at Mari, whose characteristic smirk is nowhere to be seen now. She averts her gaze towards Riko, who gingerly sets her wand down onto the table.

“Yocchan, we will explain what we’ve been doing and why. You can decide whether to trust us or not afterwards.”

Yoshiko winces under the older girl’s patient tone, feeling inexplicably sheepish. Even though her mind is still a mess, she understands enough that the Ravenclaws are trying to help her and seem to have the answers to her issues. And really, here alone in the Room of Requirement without her wand, she doesn’t have a choice but to at least listen to them.

“Alright. So, go on, on my first day, back at the train station-?”

Riko takes a deep breath and takes out a black feather from her pocket. “Do you know what this is?”

“Is that the one I gave you when you first became my little demon? Hey, come to think of it, I’ve been missing a lot of those since coming here to Hogwarts…”

Mari points at one of the benches at the lab area, where small orbs light up upon her gesture. There are many similar black feathers, some ruffled and some as sleek as quill, placed neatly in some sort of order on the table. Each appears to be quarantined via a silvery veil.

“Err, okay, I don’t think some of those are mine. Did you get it from a shop like I did or-?”

“No. We either got them from you, or we found them at various places. Let me ask you again, Yocchan, what are they?”

Yoshiko trembles a little from Riko’s austere voice. “They’re just accessories! Y’know, I do rituals with them but mostly just to go along with my hairdo-”

“What ritual?”

“M-Mari-san should know! I think I’ve shown her one time, when she’s in her cat form.”

It could just be pretense but Riko truly doesn’t seem to know what she’s talking about, so Mari didn’t lie about keeping her secret. “Rikocchi, those so-called rituals are just third-rate ‘black magic’ Muggles are fond of but have no special effect whatsoever.”

“Hey, don’t call it third-rate! I’ll have you know that-” Yoshiko trails off when Riko sighs wearily and covers her face with shaking hand as if to regain her bearings.

“So does this mean they’re created without her knowing or what? Just how…” The older girl mumbles to herself before leaning back against the couch and gazes solemnly into Yoshiko’s eyes. “Yocchan, these feathers are what we call ‘Horcrux’.”

“Hor-what?”

“A Horcux is a Dark object that contains a piece of the creator’s soul, for the purpose of gaining immortality. After all the tests we’ve run through, these feathers seem to have similar properties as a Horcrux would have.”

Yoshiko stares blankly at the two Ravenclaws. “... you’re saying, somehow, I’ve… split bits of my soul, into those feathers-?”

“That’s the most plausible conclusion we’ve arrived at. However, one thing disputes our theory - it is impossible for you to create a Horcrux, let alone so many.”

“D-Duh! That sounds like a really fancy spell that a First-Year like me couldn’t have possibly known,” Yoshiko says shakily, though a small voice at the back of her mind reminds her that she somehow repelled the Dementor when she was only a little girl, using an advanced spell as well.

There’s a chilling gleam in Riko’s amber eyes. “No, that’s not the main reason - in order to create a Horcrux, you must commit a murder.”

“I haven’t killed anybody!” Yoshiko blurts frantically, “No way, I-I haven’t, I couldn’t have p-possibly-”

Mari interrupts her firmly. “Don’t worry, we never said you did. That’s why Rikocchi says our theory doesn’t work because you are not evil - we all know that. We’ve been observing you since you’ve arrived at Hogwarts after all.”

“Y-Yeah, I may be the fallen angel but I would never k-kill anyone.” Yoshiko sighs in relief when both Ravenclaws nod in agreement, though Riko still looks tense.

“Regardless, these feathers are Dark objects and are similar to a Horcrux - we’ve detected spiritual presence just likes yours, Yocchan. We’ve been researching this for a long time, and to this date we still have no answer.”

“... who’s ‘we’ exactly? And why the research? Isn’t it too much even just for curiosity’s sake?” Yoshiko tries to remain calm and ignore the fact that her soul might possibly be damaged. Everything intrigues her, not in a good way, and to be honest she feels better not knowing any of this. The old saying ‘ignorance is bliss’ really applies here.

“Dia-san, Mari-san, Kanan-san and I form this research group.”

“Oh, that makes sense I guess… wait, not You-san or Chika-san?”

Pain flickers in Riko’s gaze. “They used to be, but not anymore.”

Yoshiko gulps, and Mari pats her housemate in comfort. “Before that, let me add something - we suspect that your mind blanks out randomly due to the creation of these feathers - something must be in the Forbidden Forest. So for this reason, Kanan in her wolf form would patrol the area, sometimes with Dia. I would scour through the Castle grounds in my cat form. That’s how we’ve found many other feathers.”

“I see…” She glances worriedly at Riko, who is staring at her lap and whimsically wringing her fingers. Mari squeezes the younger girl’s shoulder again in encouragement.

“Everything started a year ago. I came to a possession of a black quill that conversed with me. It taught me a lot about my family, blood purity, magical core, and many other things you can’t learn from books alone. We Sakurauchis hail from an Ancient bloodline known for the research of the Origin, so I suppose that’s where my natural inquisitiveness came from… ha ha, no, that’s no excuse for my stupidity.”

“Lily…” Yoshiko desperately wants to comfort the older girl. Riko has always been her composed, flawless tutor, but now she just looks like a lost teenager on the brink of breaking down.

“That quill called me Lily too,” Riko smiles faintly, though there is no humor in her eyes except guilt. “Overjoyed by all this knowledge, I shared this discovery with my two best friends, Chika-chan and You-chan. As per the quill’s tales, we’ve gone exploring many previously unknown places in Hogwarts, such as this Room of Requirement and more. To make our trio’s adventures more official, the quill suggested we form the Unbreakable Vow, which we stupidly did. This magical vow had us swear not to divulge this secret to anyone who is not a student and outside the group. That’s why, even to this date, I cannot reveal any of this, any of our research, to the staff, my family, or anyone else.”

She shakes her head as if to scoff at her foolishness. “Chika-chan always dreamed of having a grand adventure, and You-chan was always ready to go along with any idea she and I had. Together, the three of us, we had learned so much and had so much fun together, enjoying these secrets that only the three of us knew. But, during one of these a-adventures...”

Her voice cracks and Yoshiko is aghast to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“To m-make a long story short, we f-found ourselves surrounded by cloaked strangers who knew powerful Dark magic a-and… t-they… C-Chika-chan and Y-You-chan protected me a-and basically became guinea pigs for their spells… particularly, Curses that affect that mind. Something happened then that forced the attackers to Disapparate. I-I tried my best to help Chika-chan and You-chan but… in the end, to preserve their minds, I h-had to...”

She bites her lips and clenches her fists. “I Obliviated them. I wiped their memories of the time we spent together, everything… somehow, we’re still friends now, but it’s not the same anymore, and it never will be. I p-practically killed them, didn’t I?”

Mari moves to hug Riko then, though the latter is admirably trying to contain her emotions. Yoshiko could only stare in horror, trying to absorb what she just heard. She’s so deep in thoughts that she doesn’t notice that another person has joined them until the familiar deep voice speaks up.

“Riko-san. Do not push yourself. I will continue the story.”

Yoshiko instinctively flinches under Dia’s gaze, and grins weakly when the Head Girl nods in greeting. Good, Dia doesn’t seem angry at her or anything, and her attention is wholly focused on Riko anyway.

Mari scoots aside to give Dia room as the latter sits down beside Riko. “How’s Kanan doing?”

“You know her. Even if she is in pain, she remains stubborn, but she should be fine. Hanamaru-san is with her,” she adds when she notices Yoshiko’s unspoken question. She gently pulls Riko towards her shoulder, allowing the younger girl to rest there.

“As one of the oldest Pureblood Families, the Kurosawas have been under scrutiny by many for centuries and that includes Dark Wizards. I have had my share of assailants wanting to kidnap me or obtain samples of my blood, presumably for experiments on blood purity. Such attacks have stopped since coming to Hogwarts, until it resumed again last year. Back then, I barely knew of Riko-san’s group so I did not make the connection between her story and these attacks. But now, since we have discovered similar feathers on my attackers, they must be the same as the ones who attacked Riko-san’s group. I suspect that, as the heiress and a young adult, my magical core is at its prime while remaining malleable, thus making me the ideal target for whatever Dark experiment they have been committing.”

Dia’s voice softens then. “On the other hand, Ruby would have been a candidate as well, except her Sorting into Hufflepuff and her lack of a typical Kurosawa’s qualities must have deterred these unknown hostiles.”

“That’s why you’re always so cold to Ruby,” Yoshiko hopes her tone doesn’t sound accusing, but she’s quite upset for her dear friend’s sake. “Because you want to protect her, I get that, but do you have any idea how much she-”

“I know. But this is the only way I know how.”

Yoshiko grits her teeth, uncertain what to say. Dia truly cares about her little sister, that much is obvious now, but isn’t there something they can do about this messed up situation?

“So let me get this straight - something must have happened to me when I was younger, or even the moment I was born, that’s why memories of my childhood are so vague. This something makes me go weird, empties my mind and or attack people with that dark shroud thingy. Feathers with whatever Dark properties are created somehow, and this is related to the attackers who went after Dia-san, and Li-” Yoshiko pauses and decides it’s better not to use that nickname even though Riko consented it back then. “Riko-san’s group. You’re all in this together, to research these feathers and find out what secrets hide in the Forbidden Forest, but you’re not allowed to tell the Professors or anyone else about all this. Did I miss anything?”

“No, you have understood everything perfectly, Yoshiko-san.”

“Sounds like I’m a key player in this eh? Why didn’t you just tell me everything from the start?”

“We did not know if you’re trustworthy or not,” Mari quirks an eyebrow, “there is a necessity in keeping secrets and distance. Once we get to know you better, we do not want to endanger you either.”

“A-After what happened with Chika-chan and You-chan, I didn’t want anyone to be hurt because of me again,” Riko murmurs flatly, her fingers curled around Dia’s scarf. “I only allowed Dia-san, Kanan-san and Mari-san to join because of their situation as well, but…”

“Well, you need more comrades, doncha?” Mari winks, her voice playful as she fondly caresses her junior’s hair. “And there’s no way Kanan and I are leaving Dia alone in this either.”

“But now you’re part of this. For that, I’m so sorry, Yocchan.”

“Why are you apologizing? I mean, yeah, it’s gonna take a while for everything to sink in but, if by the end of this, I can find out about my past and a remedy for those weird things happening to me, then I’m in!” Yoshiko gives her a small grin, and adds inwardly. Anything to make me normal. I do want to stand out, but not as a freak. No more.

“Yoshiko-san,” Dia speaks in the most stern tone she’s ever heard. “By joining our group, you are indirectly tied to Riko-san’s Unbreakable Vow. If you were to divulge our secrets to those outside of our group, your action would cause Riko-san to break her terms.”

“W-What would happen then?”

The older Slytherin’s eyes narrow and her arm tightens imperceptibly around Riko’s shoulder. “She will die.”

“I-I was just wondering that’s all!” Yoshiko squeaks. “But technically I can tell Hanamaru and Ruby right? I mean, you’ve brought me into the loop, so they could be too, without breaking the er terms.”

“Hanamaru-san has unfortunately become part of our group after what happened earlier. She has a right to know, as a witness and someone who shares your childhood no matter how brief a period. I have spoken to her already about the crucial details, and I am certain Kanan-san is filling in the details as we speak. As for Ruby, I would request that you do not involve her.”

Yoshiko frowns and swallows her protest. “...fine. So what now?”

“After what happened, we will need to monitor you, for a while at least. While you recalling your memories would help us a great deal, it would not be wise to do so forcefully. The Pensieve perhaps… no, it is best not to chance it. We will discuss this matter further at a later time. For the time being, we will train you.”

“Huh? For what?”

Dia looks exasperated by her brilliant response. “Now that you are part of our group, you will need to be able to defend yourself. Of course, we will do our best to ensure you would not fall in harm’s way, though you still need to become stronger and better.”

“That’s awesome!” To be under the tutelage of the Head Girl is a great honor. Soon, she’ll be able to kick ass just as she dreams of.

“How can you be so cheerful? Do you not understand the situation you are in?”

“Well, I was terrified and so very confused earlier… and frankly, I still am. But you know what? At the end of the day, nothing shall stop the great fallen angel Yohane-sama~” Yoshiko makes a pose and points to the three older witches. “There’s no use moping or thinking! Ya gotta take actions if ya want to get somewhere!”

Dia sighs, Mari returns her grin, and Riko gives her a tiny smile. Yoshiko relishes in this sense of purpose and is about to proclaim more goals when the door creaks open.

“Kanan!”

Mari hurries over to the tall Gryffindor, who greets her with an one-armed hug. Yoshiko feels her rush of excitement deflate at the sight of the sling and bandages on Kanan. It does look quite serious and, due to the Unbreakable Vow, she couldn’t go to the Infirmary for proper treatment. That would invite too many questions that they cannot answer.

Before Yoshiko could apologize, a small form practically bulldozes her and makes them collapse in a heap on the carpet. It takes her a few moments to realize that Hanamaru is sobbing on top of her.

“Y-You’re awake… y-you’re okay zura…”

“She’s so worried about you but I couldn’t let her come here until we make sure you’re, well, back to normal,” Kanan elaborates in a friendly voice, seemingly relaxed to be talking to the person who almost sliced off her arm, as unintentionally as it had been.

Yoshiko looks around the room, her gaze lingering on each witch before returning to the crying girl in her arms. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is not your fault,” Dia says kindly. “It concerns us just as much as it does you.”

“Right, but I still want to apologize.” She awkwardly sits up while cradling the brunette against her. “K-Kanan-san, I’m sorry about hurting you and thank you, for protecting Hanamaru.”

The ponytailed Gryffindor simply smiles at that, accepting her words. Only a tidbit of jealousy remains, and it’s nothing compared to the magnitude of gratitude she feels towards Kanan now.

If she had truly hurt Hanamaru, she would not know what to do with herself.

Kanan will protect Hanamaru, at least until Yoshiko becomes strong enough to do so.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“It’s hic… all my fault hic…”

“Are we still on that?”

Yoshiko stiffly walks beside the sniffling brunette, and each and every single one of her whimpers stab into her chest. She’s frustrated by her inability to comfort Hanamaru, so she simply allows the latter to grip her hand rather painfully.

She deserves this pain, and it’s nice to hold onto that petite hand in her own.

“It’s all because hic… I started talking about the Dementor hic…”

“Hey now, you wouldn’t have known I’d go crazy. I mean, I’m actually glad all this happened, otherwise I would’ve continued to be kept in the dark! I’m the one who should be sorry. I dragged you into this.”

“We’re in this together, Yoshiko-chan. I don’t want to be hic... left out. I want to help you zura.”

Yoshiko smiles. “Thanks. You’ve always stood up for me, haven’t you? My memories are blurry and in fragments, but you stayed on my side even after the other kids at the playground mocked me. Well, nothing’s changed, I’m still a freak-”

“You aren’t! You’re my heroine!” Hanamaru exclaims, startling her so much that she almost drops the former’s hand. “ I actually thought you were an angel back then, the way you protected me zura.”

“Erm…t-thanks?” Yoshiko blinks down at the shorter girl, noting how unwavering and pretty her eyes are in spite of her tears.

Also, her face is really close.

“Oh!” Hanamaru notices their closeness as well and recoils, her cheeks red. Yoshiko knows her face must match the other’s girl’s, judging by how warm it feels. At least, the somber atmosphere between them has finally lifted. They resume walking in silence, each sneaking glances when they think the other isn’t looking and blush when their eyes meet.

Just before they arrive at the entrance to the Hufflepuff Dorm, Yoshiko speaks up quietly. “So, we’re doing the right thing aren’t we?”

“Yes. We can’t keep this a secret from Ruby-chan.”

Just before they left the Room of Requirement, Yoshiko had spoken up against Dia again about Ruby. After a lot of back and forth, and some support from Mari and Kanan, she managed to convince the older Slytherin to at least allow Ruby to participate in their self-defense lessons.

To their surprise, Ruby has been waiting for them for who knows how long. “Hanamaru-chan, and Yoshiko-chan too! Where h-have you gone to? I went over to the Lake because that’s where I thought you’d be, but I-I only found your glasses and books…”

The two girls hastily move towards their friend, each placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her. “Thanks, Ruby-chan. Um, many things happened zura.”

“That’s putting it mildly, Zuramaru. We’ll update you as we go but first, we want to show you something - come with us.”

Though puzzled, the pigtailed Hufflepuff guilelessly follow their lead. Hanamaru and Yoshiko exchange a look and walk just a bit closer to their trusting friend. While they omit the majority of the truth, such as Riko’s past, they reveal that there are unknown attackers going after Dia and Yoshiko and, due to a sensitive circumstance, they cannot go to the officials or others for help.

“T-There are still people going after Onee-chan? I thought that had stopped,” Ruby peers at them anxiously. “But why Yoshiko-chan?”

“Fufu, because the great fallen angel is too amazing-”

“We don’t know why yet zura, but either way it’s good that we learn to defend ourselves.”

“R-Right. S-So where are we going?”

“The Room of Requirement.”

“You’ve found it?”

Yoshiko looks away sheepishly from Ruby’s awed expression. “Well, I had help…”

The trio come to a stop at the seventh floor, opposite of that memorable ugly tapestry. Ruby freezes at the sight of Dia standing there and subconsciously clings to her friends’ sleeves.

“Onee-chan-? But why-?”

Yoshiko and Hanamaru share another look before gently pushing her towards her sister. They stay a fair distance away to give the Kurosawas some privacy. From the corner of her eye, Yoshiko is warmed to see Ruby smiling happily at Dia, whose movements seem awkward at first but she eventually pats the smaller girl’s head.

“Things will get better now, won’t it zura?”

“Yeah, I sure hope so. There’s so much we don’t know yet, but that’s why we’re gonna train to become better, so we’ll be ready for anything.” As for the possibility of my soul being damaged... well, that’s merely another challenge for the great fallen angel, that’s all.

“Mhmm. We only have one another now, but I believe we can trust each other. This group is a nice group, isn’t it zura?”

Yoshiko finds herself grinning at the brunette’s soft smile. “You’re right. Everything will be fine now that we’re all working together. Hanamaru, I promise I’ll do everything in my power so you won’t have that kind of horrible experience again. That’s Yohane-sama’s own version of Unbreakable Vow to you.”

“Hehe, right back at you, Yoshiko-chan! That’s my version of the Vow too zura.”

And neither realize they haven’t let go of each other’s hands.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Hunting Ground (Part 5)

Summary: Things come to a head as reader finds out if Dean is her killer or not...

Teaser Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: suspect!Dean x cop!reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, murder

A/N: Oh, so much in this part. Enjoy!...

The local police were off to go confiscate your files back from Dean the next morning while you went out to explore a hunch. You thought the first victim being killed at the motel was because the killer couldn’t contain themselves. A map of the area gave a different answer. The pinpricks of the the cabins were very suspiciously starting to spell out something. Whether it was Dean being cocky or someone else setting him up, you had an idea at the very least of what area the next cabin would be in.

“Oh, how I missed you piece of crap,” you said after getting your car back with new tires. You hadn’t minded the walking but having a fast means of escape was always a plus. The local police were aware of your plan for the day but even so, you were on your own out there.

It was around two by the time you’d gotten to the last cabin to check. The others were a bust, nothing out of the ordinary there. When you saw Dean’s truck by the side of the road you smiled sadly.

You'd really been hoping he wasn’t going to be the bad guy.

You didn’t even get up the path to the cabin before you heard someone behind you. One arm wrapped around you as the other came over your mouth, your gun cut off from your grasp.

“Y/N, quiet!” Dean whispered in your ear. “Listen to-”

He fell over when you kicked him in the groin. Even in his pain he reached out for your ankle. You shook him off and hit him again, reaching for your phone to call for backup but finding it missing. You spun around and saw it lying on the ground, cracked and broken. 

“Shit,” you said as it wouldn’t turn on. Dean started to get up but you gave him a solid hit to the face, giving you enough time to take off and run back to your car. 

You were so focused on getting out of there it never occurred to you that you should have tied Dean up. A pair of strong hands grabbed at you again, forceful and painful this time. You felt one move away and smack your head against the side of the tree, making you slump down. You tried to go for your gun but you felt it be ripped away, just as you received another impact that put you down for good. 

“Ow,” you groaned, waking up in a chair. You glanced around, trying to get your bearings when you saw a man in front of you. 

“Hello Y/N,” he said, smiling at you. “I bet you’re surprised to see me here.”

“Well I guess Dean can tell me ‘I told you so’ the next time I see him,” you said, shifting in your seat. You could get out of the ropes around your wrists with some time but you were going to have to wait to be alone for that. “Any chance you want to let me go and tell me who you are?”

“You know, all those other women asked me to let them go too. Why do you think you’re any different?” he said, leaning against a wall, looking over you in a way you’d have nightmares about for a long time.

“My charming personality?” you asked, tilting your head, giving him a cocky smile he enjoyed.

“You’ve been hanging out with Dean. I’m pretty sure he likes you,” said the man, taking a step over to you. “I think you like him too, am I right?”

“Oh yeah, me and Dean are besties,” you said, recalling how you’d beaten him up when he’d only been trying to protect you.

“I did this because, Dean and I, we’re one in the same. Both lonely, both just looking for someone. But none of you stupid women ever go for me. I’m not handsome like him. I get it. But Dean, he has potential. I’m just trying to get him to understand that. I thought for sure he would have seen it after Jo but-”

“Hold up. You’re saying you want Dean to be your serial killer prodigy?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“If you want to put it that way, yes, that’s what I want. But he’s testing my patience. I mean, I found him after all those months, all the way out here. I even made the one at the motel the girl he’d been with that night. He’s just not getting it and I’m getting sick of his shit,” said the man, kneeling down in front of you.

“Wow. You are a whole other level of nutjob buddy,” you said, earning a glare from him. “I might not know Dean that well but he is not like you at all.”

“I’m scared that you’re right about that. I thought maybe if I took you...he likes you. He doesn’t need you though, he needs me-”

“And you need a trip to the looney bin,” you said. “How about you make this simple. Let me go, I take you in and you can have all the imaginary friends you want in your cell.”

“You’re sassy. I haven’t had a sassy one yet,” he said, standing up. He patted your head and you winced as he hit the cut there. He turned and walked away out the door before popping back a second later. He sat the water bottle down and you growled. “I’m going to guess you already know what’s in there then. I’ll be back soon.”

He shut the door and you heard him lock up, leaving you alone in the empty room. About ten minutes and some rope burn later you were free, walking around, inspecting the door. No way in Hell would you ever drink out of that bottle. The door was solid. Maybe if you had an axe you could cut it down but that wasn’t happening. You spun around to inspect the boarded up window. If it’d been on the inside, you could have dug the nails out possibly but you had no access to the exterior. The ceiling wasn’t sheetrock like you’d hoped but instead was solid wood planks. 

“Fuck,” you said, sitting down in your chair. Maybe you didn’t have a way out but you did have something to fight back with. You stood and picked up the solid chair, doing your best to raise it overhead and slam it against the ground. It took a few tries but eventually it splintered and you had a nice, sharp stick to go at him when he got back. 

All you had to do now was wait.

Waiting as it turned out though was fucking boring. You started mentally examining the room, figuring out what to put in your report, imagining that the layout of this cabin was likely similar to the others. You’d want to go left down the hall and not right as that’d be a dead end. It was unlikely that he’d been stupid enough to take you into the cabin you’d been heading up to but if you were lucky you’d only be a half mile from the road.

The sound of footsteps outside the door made you duck to the side. You hadn’t expected him back this fast. The lock was undone and clicked into place, the door handle turning and slowly opening. The second you saw a hand step into view you pounced.

You drove your arm forward, hoping to plunge it into your killer. A hand caught your wrist when you were in an inch away from hitting your mark. But they were too focused on not being stabbed that they stumbled back with you right on top. You had enough leverage now to push down and do the job but the wide green eyes staring back made you hesitate.

“Don’t stab me ya little...” said Dean. Your pants mixed with his as he released you. You moved off him and he sat up, digging behind his back and pulling out a gun. You recognized it as he handed it over. “It was on the counter in the kitchen. Figured you wanted it back.”

“Are you working with him?” you asked, getting to your feet. Dean ran his hands over his face as he gave you probably the best bitch face of his life. “Just one more question. Why’d you steal-”

“I wanted to know the progress on the case. I came to the same conclusion as you about the cabins after looking at the files. Arrest me for stealing them if you want. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, Y/N,” said Dean, standing up. “I-”

“You’re not my guy,” you said. “A little bit of a law skirter but not a psychopath.”

“You don’t have any idea how it feels to have someone believe me after all this time,” he said, walking towards the exit.

“Leave first, talk later,” you said, brushing past him. “The one with the gun is in front too babe.”

“After you sweetheart,” said Dean, hot on your tail as you quickly left. Dean’s hand was on the small of your back once outside, guiding you down a path you wouldn’t have chosen on your own but realizing there was a lot of cover to get away unseen. Dean started pushing you in another direction and you followed, eventually finding his dark colored truck hidden away. In a minute’s time you were on the road, releasing a deep breath. “You alright? You’re hurt.”

“Sorry for beating the shit out of you,” you said, spotting the red raw scrape on Dean’s cheek. He shrugged but smiled.

“We’re good. Please don’t do it again though. Not sure I could survive another one of your ass kickings,” he said, reaching over a hand and wiping away a piece of hair. “You got a first aid kit at your motel? We should really clean that up.”

“Let’s stop there so I can write up a report of what this guy looks like,” you said. Dean nodded and sped back to town, coming with you in your room as you you went to the bathroom to look yourself over. 

“Your files are in my truck. Want me to bring them in?” he asked from the other side of the door. 

“Yeah, I’m going to clean this up,” you said, dabbing a towel and wiping some dried blood from your cheek. “I’ll clean up your cheek in a minute.”

“I’m a big boy, I can do it,” he said, a smile in his voice.

“Dean...” you said.

“Alright, you win,” he said. “I’ll be out here.”

You winced as your fingers ran over the fresh gash, listening to Dean move the boxes inside before it went quiet. Maybe he’d see something you didn’t about where this guy would be hiding out. You washed your hands and put some alcohol over the cut, sticking a bandaid over it for the time being. Your cheek was a little red but you couldn’t do much about that.

“Dean, maybe we should...” you said, stepping out to the room to see him nowhere in sight. You opened the door and walked outside, Dean’s truck still parked out front. You wandered around the back, no sign of him apart from a broken taillight you didn’t remember being there and a tiny drop of blood on the back door. “Shit.”

You pulled out your phone to call the locals but no one answered. You tried again but nothing. You went to Officer Barnes’ cell, getting an answer that time thankfully.

“Where the Hell are you guys!” you yelled, opening Dean’s driver side door, fishing around until you found a spare key in the overhead visor.

“There was a fifth victim, way up north. We’re about seventy, eighty miles out. Is there a situation?” he asked.

“Yeah there’s a fucking situation. The killer is in town and I’m pretty sure he just kidnapped Dean Winchester after I got away from him earlier. We need backup here. Now,” you said. You heard him shout at the other officers. This was exactly what he’d wanted. Everyone out of town so there was no one to stop him. 

“Officer Y/L/N, do not-”

“I’m going to Dean Winchester’s and praying to God he isn’t dead yet,” you said. “Tell my boss he can reprimand me later.”

You hung up before he tried to talk you out of it and climbed into Dean’s truck, gunning it back onto the road. You didn’t care about being subtle or quiet or that shit was about to go down. You weren’t going to abandon Dean, not after everyone else had.

It took no time at all to pull up to his house and approach the open front door, gun drawn. Dean was in full view in what looked like one of his kitchen chairs, a little out of it and sporting another swollen cheek but otherwise okay. He spotted you and shook his head, mouthing for you to go.

You shook yours back and gave him a fast smile. Dean glanced to the side and you heard footsteps as the killer came into view. You stepped inside, surprised to see the man looking rather pleased with the situation.

“Told you your incentive would be along any minute,” said the man, patting Dean’s head. Dean snapped at him as you barked at them both.

“On your knees asshole,” you said. He simply smiled and looked over to the clock on Dean’s wall. “Knees. Now.”

“Oh, someone’s getting on their knees but it ain’t me, Y/N,” he said. You took a step forward and glanced quickly to Dean who didn’t understand either. “I’m thinking the excitement is keeping you from feeling it but why don’t you take a second to collect yourself for my sake.”

“I said...” you said, shaking your head. Oh fuck no. You tried to keep your arms up but the gun in your hands suddenly felt too heavy and sitting down was a much better option. Dean’s eyes went wide as you tried to stay on your feet, the gun taken from your grasp with barely any effort at all.

“Sorry for the drugging. Figured you’d get out and lead me right to Dean. Couldn’t risk you being a little firecracker and saving the day,” he said, pulling your arms behind your back. 

“Let him go,” you said, holding up your head, looking to Dean to see if he had a plan. He only looked on in horror, probably thinking this was his fault.

“Alright,” said the killer when you were restrained, even if running or even walking weren’t options for you at the moment. “It’s simple guys. Dean, you’re going to confess and come with me,” he said. “Y/N, you’re going to come with me if Dean doesn’t.”

“You’re going to kill her either way,” said Dean, giving him a dark smile. “You could work on your incentives dickhead.”

“You need to stop being such a...why couldn’t you see your potential Dean? We could have been such a good team, be there for each other,” he said, putting his hands on Dean’s shoulders.

“You are really fucking nuts, you know that?” said Dean, earning himself a blow to the face.

“I wanted a friend. If you won’t be it, then she’ll do,” he said, looking down at you.

“You’re out of your damn mind if you ever think-”

“I’m not asking. One of you is leaving here with me and the other goes free. Well free in the sense that you’ll be confessing. Now who is it going to be?” he said, looking between the two of you. 

“I know he’s innocent you scumbag,” you said. “We aren’t doing-”

You jumped when you heard the gun go off, Dean groaning and dropping his head.

“That looks nasty. Probably want to apply some pressure to that Dean,” said the killer, walking over and grabbing your arm.

“No! Put me down!” you shouted as he picked you up, nothing under his strong grip. Dean shouted again and you saw just how bad he was. He needed a hospital and fast.

“Y/N,” he grunted. “Don’t let this guy get away. Just do that for me, okay?”

“Bye Dean. Maybe Y/N will be a little more willing than you ever were,” said the killer, pulling you out the front door and over to Dean’s truck.

“I will never hurt people like that,” you said, finding yourself tossed in the back.

“Everyone has a breaking point, Y/N. Everyone,” he said, throwing a blanket over you and shutting the trunk.

You could only hope that he would screw up and you’d find a chance to get away. Or at the very least the police would find Dean before it was too late.

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

@xfanqirlinq @pickupthatamulet @xxwinchester-22xx  @deevvoon  @goldenolaf25 @riversong-sam  @willow580@dancingalone21 @charliebradbury1104 @feelmyroarrrr@docharleythegeekqueen  @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @morbidtruths@topaziodavila @m1sund3rst0od @wonderange @fernwinchester326 @the-almighty-hate-crime @donnaintx  @maui137 @idalinette @maximoffangel-girl @anokhi07  @everyday-supernatural-af @squirels-angels-and-moose @youwerelikeadream @drugpug@darkx143@kristaparadowski @tom-is-in-my-tardis @tanithlowisabamf@smoothdogsgirl  @ktrivia @demonic-meatball  @oaisara @cojootromuelle@gallifreyansass@fangirl1802 @itstheprincess @casgetoutofmydiddlydarnass@mogaruke@secretlyfurrydragon @perpetualabsurdity @ria132love@heycassbutt-67 @aingealcethlenn  @missmotherhen@smacklesandstretch67 @ceeceewinchester  @tumblinwith-me  @heaven-is-aplaceonearthwithyou@hey-um-misha@bennyyh  @lovelife-tothefullest @under-general-asthetics@tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @missdestiel67 @evyiione @jensenackesl@xxxdevine-demonsxxx  @ayeeitsemry @mac5323 @atc74@captainemwinchester @lemonadegazeelle@nanie5  @daydreamingintheimpala @quiddy-writes @muchamusedaboutnothing

[exodesmadres]

Lotto || EXO (1)

Pairing: Suho (Kim Junmyeon) x OC

Characters: EXO, OC, BTS, NCT, SHINee, & Cross Gene.

Genre & Warnings: Violence, Language, Gangs, possible Smut later.

$ o n e $

"Fucks sake, Suho," Baekhyun cursed as the leader stumbled past the front door. His hair was a mess from the dozens of times he had ran a hand through it during the night. His shirt was untucked and blazer hanging on his arm. It was a rarity to see the leader like that, since he was always so clean cut. His right hand man--second in command line--continued, "Hani--your wife--called me about a hundred times because you wouldn't answer your phone and she was worried. Where the hell were you?"

Junmyeon looked up with a blank expression, eyes glossed over, as an aura of brooding darkness clung to the air. "I lost everything, Light." He said in a voice barely above a whisper. He took a few sullen steps to his chair and plopped down on it heavily.

"What?" His friend looked up at him, eyes peeled in surprise.

He couldn't believe that Suho, their leader, had been so irresponsible.

"I lost everything at that fucking casino." Junmyeon repeated.

"No." Baekhyun shook his head in denial. "That couldn't happen. I changed the combination to the emergency safe-"

The leader interrupted him, "Hani told it to me."

Baekhyun brought a hand to his face, immediately bubbling with anger. But he held his tongue for his own safety. Everyone knew that the one thing the pack's leader loved more than money was Hani. Saying something even remotely bad about her would have been the end of him, and he knew better.

"Geez." He exhaled in a frustrated breath, trying to calm himself. Under his breath, he recalled, "That's why she was here the other day, snooping."

She probably had good intentions, but had singlehandedly destroyed them. All of their money had been pissed away by their leader because of his newly acquired gambling addiction.

With a sigh, Junmyeon informed, "Even with the money from the safe, I wasn't able to pay off the debt." The information found  away to amaze Baekhyun even more. Just how much had their leader gambled that their emergency money wasn't enough to pay it off? He didn't even want to know. "They want me to meet with their leader tomorrow, to arrange a form of paying them back. I think...I'm going to offer myself, as slave labor."

"You can't!" Baekhyun objected, taken aback.

"What else can I do, Light?" Junmyeon asked in a tired voice. There was a handgun in the top drawer of his desk and for the slightest flash of an instant he thought about using it.

But that was the coward's way out, and he always detested cowards.

"We'll work something out." His friend insisted in a hurried tone, his mind was wracking for any solutions as his mouth continued to spill out words without thought. "We'll double production, up the protection costs in the neighborhoods, sell some of our properties, I'll even get a proper job. I'm sure the other boys would do the same. The pack--we are one."

He repeated the words that Junmyeon always recited. We are one. The others pretended to scoff and roll their eyes every time he said it because they claimed it sounded corny. But in the back of their minds, they thought the same way. They were there for each other and would always be.

"We won't be able to do it in time." The leader confessed. "They want their money by tonight."

Baekhyun sighed in defeat. "Just...go to this meeting, but don't agree to anything."

Junmyeon nodded.

-

That afternoon, a black car with bulletproof black tinted windows left the garage of his home. He had returned to his wife shortly after meeting with his right hand person for advice and it was decided that his closest friends and members of the organization would accompany him to see the owner of the casino. Six of them riding in the same car.

As soon as they arrived, both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo stepped out of the car first, guns stowed away beneath their button up shirts, in the waistband of their pants. They stood by the door of the car as the next two made their way outside. Jongin and Sehun were the youngest, and assigned to do most of the grunt work in their organization. Then Baekhyun, the right hand man stepped out, and last their leader--Kim Junmyeon.

People of the high class walked into the casino around them, not even stopping to look at the people arriving in the bullet proof car.

But Junmyeon was immediately recognized by security at the door. One of them spoke into his head set, but nodded his head as the six passed him.

Once inside, they were met with someone that took them by surprise. "Its been a long time, boys. A very long time." He smiled at them, a knowing smile, unfazed by the shock reflected on their faces. They immediately felt unwelcome there, despite seeing someone they once knew and cared about.

"Lu Han hyung." Baekhyun nodded a greeting at him when the others were too shocked to do so.

The older boy bowed his head slightly in a return greeting. When he spoke, he said to them slyly, "Unfortunately, you have to leave two of your people out here. but they're welcome to enjoy the casino." He gestured to the different slot machines and gambling games that could be seen around them.

Junmyeon sighed, but nodded, gesturing to Jongin and Sehun. That was an old trick he and Yifan had often used when they were starting out. Whenever someone visited, they asked the security people and entourage to stay behind, separating the leader from his trusted people, and separating them all from each other. That kept the leader unsure and intimidated, and willing to negotiate because there was no way out otherwise. The two youngest went to sit at some lounge chairs by the entrance to wait for the others to return.

When they reached another check point, he had to leave Kyungsoo and Chanyeol behind, and lastly Baekhyun before he was all alone. He had been taken through a darkened hallway to  a back part of the casino until they reached an office.

Lu Han opened the door, which was guarded by two other people Junmyeon knew--Yixing and Minseok. Both were silent but watched with curious eyes as Lu Han and Junmyeon entered the room.

Sitting behind that desk in the room was a man with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Suho," He called him by name Junmyeon chose when he decided to get into organized crime. "My old friend."

"Kris."  

-

so this is a fanfic of mine that is posted on wattpad, under the username @/desmadres. and it has been doing quite well in terms of reads and votes. so i thought i would share it on other platforms.

if you would like to read ahead, you can go check out the rest of this story on @/desmadres. ther are currently about fifty six updates posted.

this is of course an au story.

any likeliness with real life events is mere coincidence ;)

thank you. 

i hope you enjoy the story!

also, the wattpad version is very clean since im more self conscious of my writing there because i have many friends. but im going to try to make this one more rated r. so look forward to that.

-clary

[shapeshifting-arch-mage]

6/12/2018, Part 2

"...anyway, i went down a dark street wit glowy lites!” 

“what kind of glowy lights?” 

“uh... i tink it was... oo! da signs!! all da signs on da bildings were glowy an' brite!! dey said, uh... cafe... uh... s-somethin...?"

"your first rave was at a cafe?"

"wha?? n-no!1!1 dat was just wat one of da signs said!1!! and, an' dey said, uh, cinema... an' bar... and... ooh, pizza!!1! but i didnt go in for pizza cuz i was lookin for Mettys show... and, uh, one sign said open late, 24 hrs..."

"you mean 'hours'.”

“wha?? no, it said hrs!1!!”

“yea, but that means hours.”

“it does??”

“yea, its short for hours."

"it is??"

"yea, it is. but what about the rave? when'd yu get to the rave?"

"OO!!1 OO!!! yayaya, the rave!!!1 um, i herd some music comin' from a bilding so i thougt i found Metty's show!1 so a big guy in front of the door askd me if i was there for da show, an' i said ya!!1"

"but it wasnt Mettatons show."

"nope!!1 it wasnt Mettys show!1 but i thougt it was, so i payd da big guy lots of munnys an' he let me in1!!"

"and then...?"

"ooo!1! an' den i went in and i saw evrybody dancin'!!1! da othr tems werent dere an neithr was Mettyton but there were lotsa othr monstrs, and lotsa humins, too1!1! they were all dancin' togethr!1! an' dey wer holdin glowy glow sticks, and wearin glowy glow necklaces, and, and... well, i wanted one, too, so i got a blue glowy necklace and den i started dancin wit everyon else!!1! it was da best nite evr!!1!!1!"

"oooo, sounds fun!"

"ya, it was1!1! an' i stretchd my legs up, an' up, an' up, an den i saw him!!1!"

"at the... DJ turntable??"

"ya!1! at turntabl!! i lookd at turntabl an' he was there!1! it wasnt Mettyton, it was Baku!!1! an' he was SO COOOOOOOOL!!1!"

I can feel Temmie's joyful nostalgia, rippling through me as she recalls her first time attending one of Baku's raves. Even though I've never even been to one myself, her excitement resonates within me. That feeling that one would have right after they had done something really cool for the first time... that's the feeling that she is passing onto me right now.

However, if we were separated, this conversation would have gone very differently. This would've been the point where I would have considered revealing the truth about Baku to Temmie- about his nature as a Fresh parasite- but with our souls fused, I am instead finding myself sharing in her happiness, as we close our eyes and reminisce on her treasured memories of her first rave.

...Why, I can almost see it, myself... Her memory is coming into view...

...The 'untz, untz, untz' of the bass as we- er, Temmie approached the building; I can hear it, in my mind...

Temmie paying the bouncer... going inside... music getting louder...

Lights... music... people... lights... music... lights... lights...

Music... amazing music... dancing, dancing, and dancing... and dancing, and...

...Stretching our- no, her legs, up, up, up... a silhouette in the distance, against a bright, flashing screen...  That's him, alright. No question about it. That is Baku, in his element.

"...tat realy was an amazin night, wasnt it?” 

“yaya, it sure was!!1 it was da best nite ever!!"

Heh... lucky Temmie. My first time meeting Baku didn't go anything like that. ...And upon noticing my thoughts going in that direction, Temmie asks me...

"wen did yu meet Baku???"

Oh god... I should've known that she would ask me that. My first time meeting Baku? I'm honestly not sure if I'm comfortable sharing that with her... even if we are fused together...

But it's too late. I'm already remembering that day on the Island, two years ago. I remember seeing him sitting at the bar, turning to look at me, and saying...

"...Like what ya see?"

I remember little Carrie acting all protective, not wanting me to talk to Baku, and then throwing her little arrows, or spears, or whatever they were, at him...

"AWAWA?!?! whos she?!? whyd she throw stuff at Baku?!?!"

Oh no... How am I supposed to explain this to her?

"she... didnt like him?"

"wh-whaaaa??? why dint she like Baku? why wud someone not like Baku?? hes the coolest rave guy evr!!!1!"

"well... i dont think shes evr been to his raves. i mean, i havent eithr."

"awawawa!1!! we gotta go somtime!!1 i gotta show yu da best ravetime wit Baku!!1! an take smol hooman wit wings ther, too!1!! she'l luv it so much she wont wana throw stuff at Baku no more!!1"

Yyyyeeaaahhh... I doubt that.