#i’ve been having The Feels lately about my stalled conversion

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter Two (of four)

masterpost

Was this guy for real? Jason nearly decided not to get in out of suspicion. Danny was one of the very few loose ends in his crime yesterday. He sort of figured that eventually Batman would find the driver he’d used to get a duffle bag of heads to the police station. He stalled. It had seemed like an acceptable risk, since he hadn’t shown the guy his face. The only information that the police should have been able to get was where he’d left and that he’d used one of his victim’s phones to call for a ride.

And yet Danny was waiting patiently at the curb for the Red Hood to get in. Wasn’t he scared?

He had been all over the news yesterday. Danny had to know.

‘Either he’s dumb as a box or he is one of the chillest people I’ve ever even heard of.’

Morbid curiosity got him into the car. Danny locked the door as soon as the door was shut– but it was clearly routine. He’d done that yesterday, right. Jason waited a moment before he remembered that Danny wasn’t going to pull out until he had his seatbelt on. He let out a laugh and buckled up. It was pretty cute, actually.

Now that he wasn’t so distracted, maybe he could make small talk. Danny pulled them out into the sparse early morning traffic with an expression of determined focus.

Jason cleared his throat. “You moved to Gotham recently?” he started with. Danny didn’t have the local speaking pattern.

Danny nodded. “For school,” he shared easily. “I’m in the sciences program at Gotham U’s south campus.”

…So he wasn’t the world’s biggest dummy. Jason sat there and contemplated how catastrophically chill a body would have to be to chit chat with a man who had killed like 20 people yesterday that he knew of. Why wasn’t Danny scared? What was his damage? 

‘There’s something really wrong with him,’ Jason thought, with no small bit of admiration. Way too late he commented, “That’s cool, man.”

“Thanks.” Danny seemed unbothered by his long delay in conversation. “You know, I had to go to that same police station this morning.”

Jason tensed. Was Danny making some kind of threat?

“They got a whole shitton of muffins and six quiches delivered,” Danny went on. He appeared to feel no sense of danger in the car.

‘Is he… Did he decide to inform on the police to me?’ Jason’s eye twitched. ‘I already knew that I’d have ruined their whole month but… This is kinda satisfying to hear, actually.’ He made a listening sound to prompt Danny to continue. He couldn't lie; he was intrigued.

“Yeah, they looked like total shit.” Danny was so blithe about it that it became surreal and hilarious. “Exhausted. But that’s not my business.” He crinkled up his nose. “Do you know what they tipped me for that?” He didn’t wait for Jason to go on. “Two dollars.” He made a big gesture with his left hand that took it off the steering wheel despite the fact they were mid turn. “That’s ridiculous! I drove halfway across town, waited for the place to open, carried an absurd amount up those stairs, and for two dollars.” He blew a disrespectful raspberry.

“Fuck the police,” Jason said sympathetically. 

Aight. He saw how it was. He mentally tabulated what was in his wallet and allocated a cool thirty dollars to Danny as a tip. For an informant, that was as cheap as bagged rice. Helluva value. He leaned back in the seat and it squeaked under his weight. “How’s Gotham been treating you?”

“Fine, fine,” Danny said absently. He switched lanes a little too abruptly. “Not that different from home, honestly. I don’t know why people are so dramatic about it.” He floored it to squeak through a yellow light.

Jason had the dawning suspicion that Danny had been on his best driving behavior yesterday. But- “Where is home?” It was more morbid curiosity. He kind of regretted that he was nearly to his stop. 

“Amity Park. Illinois.”

Jason winced. “My condolences.”

Danny laughed, high and sort of eerie now that Jason was really listening to it. It sent an  electric zing up his spine. “That’s what they always say.” He seemed to find it really funny. Way funnier than it should have been.

‘...What are the odds that this guy is one of the weird mutants they make in Amity?’ Jason resisted the urge to ask prying questions. Talia had told him to stay the fuck out of that area so that she didn’t have to rescue him from a government black site. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t have the luxury of the time to go and investigate every cute boy with a nice laugh who wanted to be an informant to the Red Hood.

It was with extreme regret that Jason recognized his stop coming up. He let out a sigh. The voice scramblers in his hood turned it to static. He watched the curb approach with disappointment. Danny made to pull in next to a dark shop. Jason glanced into the windows and caught the reflection of the last person he wanted to see. 

“Batmobile.” He sat up straight, alarmed. It was parked out of sight in an alley. Shit. Shit, of course Batman had tracked back the delivery driver that had brought him to the police building. Fuck. How was he going to get away on foot-

Danny jerked back into the street and hit the pedal to the floor. The engine made a scream of machine fear but holy hell did it accelerate. Jason yelled too and grabbed onto the door handle. He aimed wide eyes at Danny, uncomprehending. 

“Fuck Batman!” Danny yelled out his open window, and they were off.

Holy shit. Holy shit!

The batmobile turned on, the normally silent engine’s purr rearing up to a threatening growl as Bruce veered out onto the street in pursuit.

Danny took them down an alley and Jason sharply readjusted his assessment of Danny’s intelligence. “We can’t fit!” He yelled, trying to pull the brake. If they had to stop in the alley it was all over, Batman would block them off.

Danny slapped his hand away and barreled-

Jason blinked as they raced down the impossibly narrow alleyway. He bit his lip. He looked at the car again, recalculating.

No. No, it definitely didn’t fit. He leaned a little away from the window, extremely uncomfortable. He looked at just the right time to see the passenger mirror collide with a dumpster and slide through undeterred.

Ah. Alright, then. He made a “Fair enough” face and turned around to see that the batmobile was lifting up and doing some weird transformers bullshit to fit down the alleyway. They were gaining ground from Batman. “Sorry I tried to touch the controls,” Jason said, a bit late. He glanced down and realized that his hand stung where Danny had slapped it. He pulled it to his chest and rubbed at it, frowning slightly.

“No worries,” Danny said tersely. He hit the breaks and raked the wheel car to make a fucking pinpoint turn without slowing. Just like that, they were out of Batman’s direct line of sight. A solid inch of the inside of the car overlapped with a folding chair outside someone’s home.

Jason eyed Danny judgmentally.

“Wow, that was a close fit,” Danny said, extremely unconvincing. “We are lucky, huh.” He aimed the car at a wall and somehow ramped up. 

‘I think I might be sick.’

Jason decided that the best thing for him to do right now was to close his eyes and say nothing at all. If Danny wanted plausible deniability for his mutant powers, that was whatever. 

‘How did Batman know where I was going?’ He worked through the problem. ‘Did he hack Danny’s account? If not, someone sold me out.’

Just like that, Jason had a list of people to visit for the day. “D’you think you could drop me off at C street instead?” He felt the uncomfortable swooping sensation in his stomach that indicated they’d made some kind of move that should not exist off of a rollercoaster.

“Yeah, of course, sorry about this.” Danny sounded a little breathless. “Ah- don’t look.” He cackled.

…’He’s dodging Batman for his benefit, not mine,’ the penny dropped. Jason laughed out loud and then leaned forward to hold his head in his hands. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Danny was the perfect man. They drove for a while in silence before Jason managed to collect himself. “No worries,” he said through tears. “Hey, no sweat if it’s no, but can I get your number?”

Danny paused.

Oh, fuck. Jason cringed. “I'll leave mine and you can call me if you ever need me,” he corrected hastily. “No pressure.” He scribbled it on the back of a loose receipt in Danny's cupholder and left it, mortified but also glad he shot his shot.

[moonstruckme]

I’m begging for emt marauders where r dislocated her shoulder a stupid way and so r goes to another hospital to avoid them but then they show up bc their hospital is was on a bypass and see r

Thanks for requesting!

cw: shoulder injury no description

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

It’s dark, and despite the cloak of poor lighting and the distance between you, you lock eyes with James from across the parking lot. His brows furrow and he nearly drops the gurney he’s lowering out of his ambulance, Sirius hopping down to help. You see his lips form your name. 

Sirius’ head snaps up. 

There’s nowhere to hide. You shoot them a sheepish smile, your footsteps stalling before you remember to get out of the crosswalk. Remus’ head appears a moment later, peering out of the back of the ambulance. He helps James lower their patient onto the pavement, the both of them shooting worried glances at you as they wheel him inside and Sirius takes off towards you. 

“What the fuck?” he calls as he jogs over. Your boyfriend’s dark hair is tied back in a short ponytail, and it gleams under the fluorescent lights outside the hospital. He looks from your face, to where you’re holding your arm tight to your side, and back again. “What are you doing here?” 

“I, um, didn’t think I’d see you.” It’s out before you can think it through, but in all fairness you’re having a bit of a strenuous evening. 

Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “That’s not what I asked. Sweetheart, what did you do to yourself?” 

You rub your lips together, feeling suddenly very sorry for yourself. Your shoulder really does hurt a lot. “I think I might’ve dislocated my shoulder?” 

“How’d you manage that?”

You hesitate. “Don’t laugh.” 

“Don’t laugh about what?” James asks as he joins you. Remus isn’t far behind. James peers at your arm, looking about as sorry for you as you are. “Are you hurt?” 

“She thinks she’d dislocated it,” Sirius informs him. 

“What were you doing?” Remus moves to your side, setting a comforting hand on your back as he touches near it gingerly. You hiss through your teeth and he stops. 

“You guys can’t laugh at me,” you insist. 

“Well, now I think I might not be able to help myself.” Sirius is smiling at you slightly, though his brows are still bunched with sympathy. “Come on, out with it.” 

You chew your bottom lip. Remus’ eyebrow lifts expectantly. “Okay,” you breathe out, “um, you know how I’ve been going out to rollerskate lately?” 

Remus’ expression clouds over. “I told you that was dangerous,” he says. “Were you wearing your pads?”

“Angel, this late?” James appears scandalized. “It’s been dark for hours!” 

You feel your face heat, growing more sheepish by the second. Sirius gives you a stern look. “Go on,” he says. 

“There was decent lighting and everything, but I accidentally started going down this hill, and I was going, um, really quite fast.” All three of your boyfriends tense in anticipation. “So I threw myself into the grass and I think I landed on my shoulder wrong.” 

Sirius gives a little chuckle, ignoring your glare. “You think?”

“Okay, I’ll admit,” says Remus, “that is a slightly funny image. But it’s less funny that you actually got hurt, dove. Did you come all the way out here just to avoid running into us?” 

You’re too surprised to hide your wince. Trust Remus to have you completely pegged without so much as a conversation. 

James’ lips part at your reaction. “Did you really?” 

“What are you even doing here?” you ask, shamefaced. 

Sirius crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at you. “Our hospital’s on bypass,” he answers. 

You shrink further under the intensity of his gaze. 

“Angel,” James sighs. He steps closer and cups the back of your head, resting his lips heavily on your hairline. “Well, there’s no avoiding us now,” he says, straightening. “We haven’t taken our breaks yet, want us to sit with you while they get you sorted?” 

“Yes, please,” you reply in a small voice. 

Remus makes a compassionate sound in his throat, encouraging you towards the entrance with his hand on your back. “We’d better get you in, then. Hopefully we’ll be able to expedite things with the three of us here.” 

You start to relax, two of your boyfriends seemingly haven forgiven your secrecy. You chance a look at the third, still watching you with a stern expression as you walk towards the hospital doors. He catches your look and flicks up a brow. 

“You’d better still tell me I’m handsome when my hair is all gray,” he says, in the kind of severe tone that makes you doubt whether he’s teasing. “It’s already starting at the roots, and you’re entirely to blame.” 

You quell the urge to smile. “You’ll always be handsome,” you tell him sincerely. 

“That’s the attitude.” Sirius walks backwards in front of you, pecking you firmly on the lips before falling back into step beside you. “Keep rehearsing those lines, sweetheart. I’ll be needing to hear them more often if you keep up with this rollerskating bullshit.” 

[wild-jackalope]

summary :: Yuji decides to take his friends lack of sex life into his own hands (quite literally).

warning :: Normal AU, Yuji is extremely forward (highkey yandere), fingering, hand job, public sex, jealousy, also fighting.

note :: collage/univeristy AU. Reader and Yuji are in their second years of studying. This took way longer than what I thought it would.

“Who’re you texting?” Yuji asked.

“Nobody.” You giggled.

“C’mon, tell me.”

“This guy.” You grinned, tapping away at your phone. “He’s taking me out tonight.”

“Oh yeah, where’s he taking you?” Yuji asked, hands hidden deep in his pockets, peaking over your shoulder at the phone in your hands.

“Stop looking Yuji.” You twisted your body away from him, but he followed you.

“Come on, I should know where you’re going. What if this guy is a total jerk?”

“He won’t be,” You sigh, shaking your head. “He might even be the one.” You simply state. Though, ‘the one to take you to bed’ might’ve been a better description.

“You seriously think that?” Yuji’s tone goes limp, but his face still hangs a smile.

“You know that fancy place next to KFC? On the main road?” He nodded. “We’re going to be eating there.”

“That’s crazy, ‘cause I’m going to that KFC with Choso tonight.” He turned from your gaze. A telltale sign of fibbing that caused you to lift your brow.

“That so?” You asked, elbowing his side. He shrugged then nodded, his lips threatening to grin. “I can take care of myself, you know.” You added.

“You think so?” He jested, however the comment struck a heart string.

“Yes. Don’t you?” You carefully questioned.

He choked on your serious tone. “I, I guess. Well, maybe? You’re not super strong.”

“But I’m not a baby. I’m not helpless.”

He seemed to find that implication funny, because he laughed. “Is that why you call me when you’re scared to walk home in the dark?”

“Yuji that’s— that’s different. I’ve been talking to this guy, I know him.”

Seemingly confused by how this conversation lead to you being offended but not willing to back down he commented again. “Then why have I never heard about him?”

“You’ve never heard of him because I don’t like telling you about this stuff.” You added, softer, retracting your lips into a thin line when you saw how it made Yuji’s eyes narrow.

“Why not?” He asked, now taking offence himself.

“Because you mess things up for me.” You broke contact with his eyes, darting down to his shoes. “I don’t like being upset with you, Itadori, let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He stated. You hiccuped at his harshness. "I just don't want you to waste your time on trash men."

Yuji had, without a doubt, been a stain on your dating life and by proxy, your sex life. Most commonly, he’d stall you to make you unfashionably late to a date. Other times he’d ask you to cancel them and spend time with him instead. Most recently he’d made the impression that you two were already a couple to a boy that pucked up the courage to tell you, you were cute.

It felt like you were being suffocated by his attention, and starved of other men’s.

“I need to leave soon, Yuji, let’s finish hanging out and not let this ruin our fun.”

Despite his unusual clinginess, you hated to fight with him.

“You know Itadori has the hots for you, right?” Nobara grimaced.

You laughed. “Don’t be stupid. He’s literally my bestie.”

“Just because you feel that way, doesn’t mean he does.” She warned. "Don't you see the way he clings to you? The way he hates when you hang around me or Megumi?"

"I guess. He's just like that though."

"He's like that for you, girl."

"But I feel that way about him, too. I don't love it when he spends all his time with his brother, or watching movies. I prefer when we hang out." Nobara stared at you with narrow eyes and an expression that could only be described as her trying to figure out if you were dumb, or just blissfully ignorant. Or both. "When you're super close with someone, that's just the way it is."

"Sure, girl. Sure."

To say Yuji was your friend would be an understatement. Best friend wasn’t quite right either. If there was another a higher title, it would belong to him. He was the first to call when you had some tea to spill, first to text when you didn’t know what to wear out, your go to man in an emergency.

To Yuji, the term best friend didn’t even come close to describing how he felt about you. You were his everything.

Later in the day, his phone pinged, you'd posted something. It was an image of you in a glimmering dress on your Instagram story. The hem ended just above your knees, and clung to your body like wet fabric.

The sight was utterly cloying, though his heart squeezed painfully to know you were dressed that way for a man he didn’t even know. He screenshotted the image, adding it to his photos.

What Yuji hadn't thought to consider, was the lace set hiding beneath the dress. You were hoping for the best. That was all.

Upon arriving to your date, you were greeted with an aloof ‘hello’, a small peak into how the rest of your date would continue.

Yuji hadn’t managed to convince his brother to join in stalking your date. Suggesting that he leave you to your date and that he shouldn’t get involved in your love life, citing that it’ll messy your friendship.

He promptly ignored Choso’s advice.

So, Yuji sat next door to your restaurant chewing on some hot chips with an unimpressed look on his face. He opened his photos, gazing at you in your dress. He swallowed thickly, forcing his phone down. He just wanted to be sure you were okay. That was it. He wouldn't get in the way. He'd rather see you with someone else, than be mad at him.

His churning gut seemed to disagree with that thought, though.

After being seated at a booth, you smiled kindly at your date. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” He answered curtly. You grimaced. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to suggest a last minute date to a guy you’d only been texting for a day (yes, you'd lied to Yuji about know him). But God you just wanted to get laid.

“What did you get up to?”

“Nothing much.”

This was going nowhere.

It had taken an hour before you’d finally given up on making conversation. You ate, spent some minutes in the bathroom to kill time, paid and left. How embarrassing, you'd come all this way and put so much effort into how you looked only to be blown off. It made you wish you'd been kinder to Yuji.

You picked up your phone, and sent a text to him.

‘Hey, did you end up eating next door? I’m finished with my date.’

‘I did yeah. How’d it go?’ He responded.

‘Average.’

Yuji’s chest filled. He'd been blessed with a second chance and now was his moment to swoop in and cheer you up.

You sat outside, the night air whipping at your exposed skin. You hadn’t prepared for the cold. A cardigan would’ve ruined your look, after all. You assured yourself before leaving that you’d be in a warm restaurant for half the night, then be spending the rest in his or your bed. There was no need to layer up.

Yuji spotted you, calling your name before taking a seat on the bench you sat at. “Hey, how’d you go?” He beamed. His brightness felt like a layer of warmth around your skin.

“Hey Yuji.” You sighed, finding his smile contagiously reaching your lips.

“Where’s the guy? Didn’t he wait for you?” He looked over the streets, glazing over the lack of strangers around.

“Nope.”

“What an asshole.” He pat your knee, leaving his hand there as a supportive contact.

"You can say it now." You murmured into the palm of your hands.

"Say what?"

"I told you so."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t let it get you down. Yeah? His loss.”

“I know. I know.” You nodded, tiredly. “He’s not worth my time. I just- ugh.” You rubbed your eyes tiredly, not caring to maintain your eye makeup any longer.

“You’re really upset, aren’t you?” He asked, the hand resting on your knee clenched.

“Not for the reason you think, Yuji…” You shamefully murmured.

“So he wasn’t the one?”

“Of course not. I just… wanted to be with someone tonight.” You exhaled, letting the confession rise off your chest.

“You can be with me.” He added, a cheerful sombreness to his tone. “We’ll hang out.”

“Not like that, Yuji.” You cleared your throat. “I- uh. Never mind.”

“What?” He pressed, searching for the confession in your eyes. The hand cradling your knee edged inward to the softer side of your thigh, the movement went unnoticed by you.

“I’m- well.” You exhaled. The two of you were best friends, you could be honest with him. “I’m horny, Yuji. I haven't been able to get laid in forever because- well.” You reframed, now wasn’t the time to bring up an old argument. “I wanted to fool around with this guy.” You finished.

“We can do that too.” He cut, quickly. His hand fell further, you noticed only because it made you burn.

“What?” You shifted, but his hand still remained.

“That guy wouldn’t have gotten the job done. He was probably a loser.”

“Yuji- what did you just say?”

“If you just want to feel good, I can help.” Again his hand inched inward, now flirting with the hem of your dress. Your legs flinched open, the quick reflex tightened Yuji’s chest and his pants.

“Itadori…” You warned, though it passed your lips as a weak willed relent.

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He’d come so close now, breath patting your nape.

"We're in public." You huffed, eyeing his thick, tanned hand. His fingers cratered against your skin, kneading the flesh with a stunted hunger. He was attempting to be smooth, but he'd yearned for this too long.

"Nobody is around. Its dark. You said you're horny, didn't you? I can help. Let me help." He trailed further.

Yuji made contact to your clothed sex. His pinky finger pressed into you cautiously. You’d immediately lost all reserve. Your pussy grabbed at your brain, shoving away the regretful thoughts and forcing your legs to open wider.

With nothing but your body’s reaction to guide him, Yuji’s fingers began to rub up and down your cunt outline, focusing on the bump that was your clit.

“How does that feel?” He asked quietly.

“Weird.” You uttered, grasping at your own thighs, struggling to keep your legs open to him.

“Why?” He leaned closer.

“You’re my friend, Yuji.” You looked anywhere but at the boy.

“Why should that matter?”

You fumbled an answer. “Because friends don’t do this.”

“Some do.”

“But not us…” You drawled.

Yuji ignored you and nosed your cheek, closing in on your lips. By this point, he leaned so close that you had no room to back away.

His tongue licked your bottom lip and you grunted at the thought of it being further south. He swallowed the sound, having his free hand cradle your neck and pull you into him.

With a shameless passion, Yuji overran your mouth. His hand stunted at your pussy, his thoughts wrongly focused on your locked lips. You whined and he devoured that sound from you too.

“Yuji,” You pushed against his hard chest.

“Sorry.” He licked his lips, wiping away your shared saliva that lingered on the back of his sleeve. He gazed at the area covered by your dress. “Can I see?” He asked. Unsureness flashed in your gaze. "Please?"

You’d become completely obsequious to his advances. “Just for a second.” Anything to get him to start palming you again.

Yuji leaned, pulling up your dress and revealing the sight he’d only dreamed of. He moaned. You gaped, now keenly aware of your surroundings.

“Fuckin’ hot.” He murmured. The words made you gush.

Now his eyes couldn’t be ripped from your underwear, mentally taking screenshots to save for himself. He’d never need to watch porn again.

Another thought crossed his mind and his brow furrowed. He sat up, coming dangerously close to your face.

“You were going to let another guy see you like this?” His palm pressed hard against your clit. You twitched.

“You’re acting like I cheated on you, Yuji…” You wearily commented.

Shit, he’d almost ruined it.

He kissed your neck, running his tongue cross your pulse. It hadn’t completely distract you from his possessive question. “Maybe we should stop.” You whispered.

emphatically, his hand pushed past the fabric of your underwear. His index and middle finger parted around your clit, drawing this thick fingers down with your nerve bundle sandwiched between.

“Yuji!” You breathed, hands shooting to grasp his forearm.

“Shouldn’t say things if you don’t want them.” He murmured. His fingers dove to your entrance, pulling slick up and around your clit, rubbing the juices into your skin. “You want this, don’t you? Want me?”

You avoided the answer and his hand halted.

“Say you want me.” He uttered coolly.

Your hips stuttered, but Yuji didn’t budge. Holding you at orgasmic gunpoint, your lips parted. “I want you, Yuji.”

He continued with a new found passion, drawing his fingers up and down your clit with a kind pace, no longer tantalising you.

His lips pressed against your jaw and cheek until they found your mouth. He tongued you once more, loving the way you opened yourself to him and how he utterly devoured you. You couldn’t keep up with his passion.

Your legs clamped, but he pulled you open again with one hand, continuing to slide between your clit and eating the moans it ripped from you.

The orgasm hit you quickly, faltering fast through your legs and feet. You groaned into Yuji’s mouth, body going limp. His hand quickened, adding pressure to your suddenly raw clit. Your hips retracted.

“I came! I came.” You broke, tapping on his forearm. He halted, wide eyes gazing at your post-orgasm state. He wished he could’ve recorded every second of him making you cum.

You pushed against his forearm and, regretfully, he pulled his hand away from your sex. You watched with wide eyes as he brought his pruned fingers to his mouth and licked at the slick covering them.

You were too staggered to utter a word.

“Do you feel better now?” He asked.

“I, uhm, yeah.” You nodded, staring at the ground with glazed eyes. You'd just cum on the hand of your closest friend.

“Good.” He added.

“Yeah.”

Awkward tension stabbed at the both of you. As if knowing your thoughts would start to circle around regret, Yuji continued to speak. “I’ll drive you back to my dorm, we can hang out now that you're done with your date.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” You spoke breathlessly.

The ride home was ear ringingly silent.

Yuji couldn't find an excuse to talk and you were too booked out with the thoughts racing your mind to respond with anything but a 'mhm.'

Nobara was right. Yuji wasn't the type to help a friend get off just because, right? He must've liked you or at the very least lusted after you. Were you okay with either of those options?

Inside his dorm room, you planted yourself on his floor, mind still wrecked. He eased next to you, finding the words to break the glass-like silence.

Worry creased his face. He came onto you too soon, too fast. "Do you want to pl-"

"So do you like me?" You asked, eyes wide with tension.

"Yeah." He grinned shyly. "Wasn't that obvious?"

Yes. It was. It fucking was. You were just as blind as a deaf bat with cataracts.

"Do you... like me too?"

"I, I don't know." You threw your head back and grunted. "Shit."

"Don't stress, it's fine."

"Not really." You couldn't stop thinking about the fact he made you cum less than an hour ago and you didn't know if you liked him? You loved him, sure, but did you love him? He was handsome, funny, good with hands apparently. "How long?" You asked.

"A while." He scratched the back of his neck. "A long while, actually."

You were surely going to hell. Here your friend was, spilling his heart out to you and all you could think about was having his hands touch more of you. You couldn't help but eye his crotch, was he still hard from before? You couldn't tell.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. Your eyes darted to his face.

"Well," You fiddled with your index finger. "You never got off, so I feel bad."

His cheeks flushed. "Me? No, that's fine. We should talk. Don't worry about that."

"Okay," Your hand slipped to his hip, resting on his side. "Keep talking, then." Hell for sure.

"Well I, uh, I always thought you were pretty," Your fingers skimmed over the elastic of his pants. "And hot." He added, eyes lidding.

"Does anyone else know?" You asked.

"Probably." He sucked in through his teeth as your hand began to retreat. "I mean, Fushiguro is pretty perceptive. I think Choso knows too."

You traced his v-line with your fingernail. He'd already gone hard.

"kugisaki, probably. Are you-?"

"Just keep talking. I'm listening."

"I… I realised maybe a year ago." You slipped a finger under his pants. "You started dating. I hated it. I thought I'd get over it but-" You raked through his pubes, inching closer to his shaft. He exhaled steadily. "I heard you started having sex. I tried to butt in whenever I could after that."

"Jealous." You stated, finally sliding over his dick.

"Big time." He attempted to steady himself again, hands clenching into white fists. "Was it good with them? The sex?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Yuji."

"Fuck. Sorry." He exhaled. "We got super close, I just, needed more of you."

You gripped him and he rutted into your hand.

"Love you a lot." He huffed. You gripped him harder. "F-Fuck."

He fucked your hand carefully. Scared that if he did it too fast or hard, you'd let go and leave him. You joined in the motion, spreading the pre from his head over his shaft and pumping him.

He'd gone wordless, mouth hanging open whilst uttering gasping grunts. His eyes rolled to you, deep brown's watching you.

"Stop staring..." You muffled, hand covering your face.

"You're so beautiful." He grunts. "Kiss me."

You do, and just like before he pashes you with greedy intent. You pull away before he can kiss you too deeply, he follows you, grunting against your parting lips.

"Feel good?" You ask.

"Feels amazing, baby. A little faster, please." He bucks his hips again until you comply, stroking him quicker. "Perfect, that's perfect." His grunts become breathy, turning into weak moans.

You've never seen Yuji like this before, the only comparison being him puffed after working out too hard. But this, you've never seen. You loved every twitch of his body and every noise spurting from his mouth.

You rubbed your index finger over his head and his hand grabbed at your thigh, squeezing you hard. "Fuck." He cursed.

Tortuously, you began to focus on rubbing up and down his tip. His breaths became rapid, chest rising and falling ridiculously fast.

"Fuck baby, don't stop."

You mewled at pain his tight grip caused you and his dick twitched. You leaned against his shoulder pressing your face to his neck. "Love you, Yuji."

Those words sent him over the edge. He cursed again, louder than before and you knew by the way he squeezed your thigh it would bruise tomorrow. You felt hot spurts of semen leak onto your fingers as you let him fuck your hand until his orgasm passed and his loud curses settled into fucked out whimpers. He'd gone limp now, panting.

You let go of him, causing Yuji to utter another weak groan. Pulling your hand out, you gazed at his cum coating your skin.

He watched you bring it up to your mouth and lick some with the end of your tongue. He was suddenly hard all over again. He grunted at the arousal.

Salty, you thought.

"Let's date." He stated, still breathy. You opened your mouth to speak but he continued. "I don't have to be your boyfriend, not yet. We'll just go out. On dates."

"Yuji,"

"You could stay over more often, we could watch movies, cuddle." His eyes slipped over your cum covered hand. "We could do this more. You don't have to love me right away, but at least give us a shot. I-"

"Yuji, shush," You sighed, grinning. You laid against the floor, somewhat breathless yourself. "Let's date." You nodded.

He pumped a fist in the air, quietly uttering a victory. You laughed. "You're going to wish you fell for me sooner, I promise. You'll see what a good boyfriend I can be."

"So you are my boyfriend now?" You jested, raising a suspicious look at him.

"I will be." He stated. "You'll see."

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.4

The skies are darkening as I walk home from the food stall, carrying what is – despite the time – technically my breakfast. Hot steam is wafting up from the flimsy plastic bags in my hand, warming my cold fingers.

I’m still not used to San Myshuno’s seasons, but Samara told me that it’s unusually cold for being this late in Spring. In a way, it feels like the city has decided to match my mood, as if the dark and dreary weather is being sympathetic to how I feel.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and a robotic voice jarringly interrupts a sad love ballad to flatly announce that dad is calling. I sigh and tap my headphones, he’ll just call again later if I don’t pick up now.

“Hey, honey!”

My father’s voice is warm and comforting like a blanket, and I can hear faint birdsong and the rustling of the trees in the backyard. I briefly wish I could just move back home and be a kid again and leave all the worries to my parents.

“Hi, dad. How are you guys? House still standing?”

“We’re good, Kieran and Liam are busy worrying about prom so it’s been unusually quiet. Oh, and speaking of standing, Grayson can stand by himself now. He can even take a few steps as long as he’s holding on to something.”

He sounds so proud, almost as if he was the one learning to walk.

“Aww, he’s getting so big! Next thing you know, you’ll all be chasing him around the house every time they visit.”

“I’ll make sure to have your mother send you some pictures of him when I get back inside. She’s busy in the kitchen, Griffin and Daria are coming over for dinner. But how are you? We barely hear from you these days.”

“Oh, you know, I’m really busy with work and hanging out with people and such. I’ve just been out shopping for dinner, and then I’m seeing a friend later.”

I hear him hesitate, like he can tell that I’m lying.

“Alright. That sounds good. We’ve been a little worried about you. And especially today…”

“I know, it was really rough in the beginning, but I swear I’m doing fine, I-”

My voice breaks and I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and take a deep breath to get it under control.

“Oh, honey. Listen, sometimes relationships don’t work out, no matter how much you love each other. I can see where Paul was coming from, and your mother and I have been worried that you’d feel pressured into something you weren’t ready for. So I want you to know that we’re really impressed that you’re staying true to yourself. It can be… very hard to do the right thing when you love someone, I know that. So I’m proud of you.”

“I just miss him so much, dad.”

“I know. But maybe you don’t really miss Paul. Maybe you just miss a version of him in your head that he failed to live up to. If Paul Romeo was really so perfect, he wouldn’t have made my daughter so sad.”

My father reminds me to take care of myself and I promise to call more often before I end the call and pick up the pace slightly just as the rain starts falling.

I manage to make it home before getting too wet, but it’s still a relief to step inside the warm apartment.

My laptop sits on the dining table, and I eye it warily as if the deluge of messages could somehow escape containment and drown me.

I unpack my food and try to ignore the state of my kitchen. I don’t have the energy to deal with it right now, so I just kick off my shoes and take my food to the couch as usual.

I text Marten and eat a few bites while I wait. He replies almost instantly and within minutes, he’s online. It’s becoming my favourite part of the day.

We play for a few hours, and I almost forget to be sad. Marten never mentions Paul, he just talks about normal things like what the other guys in his fraternity are up to, his studies, new games he’d like to play. Easy topics. He’s also good at carrying the conversation when I’m quiet, like tonight.

Marten probably doesn’t even know what day it is today, and somehow that makes it easier.

Eventually, though, he has to leave. He tends to go to bed early, even on weekends, and I promise him to get some sleep too. My barely touched food has congealed into a solid cube in the box and I leave it on the table and try to decide how to spend the rest of the night. As if I don’t already know.

Finally, I give in.

I open my laptop, ignoring the notifications about the thousands of unread messages. I thought the sudden influx of hate-mail was bad when my relationship with Paul was discovered, but it has been nothing compared to after the news of the breakup.

I know I shouldn’t, know I’m just picking at the wounds, but my fingers move on their own, out of habit, and pure muscle memory is making them type Paul’s name into the search bar. All the links are already purple, of course, there is nothing new here, but I still click the first one. It takes me to his Social Bunny profile. Paul was never that active on social media, and his latest post is several weeks old.

I know it by heart.

“In response to the recent speculation, I want to clarify that Julia and I parted ways a while back. She’s an incredibly gifted and wonderful person, and I truly wish the best for her.”

The best.

“But you were the best,” I whisper.

I feel like crying, but it seems like I’ve finally run out of tears, emptied the reservoirs over the last couple of months, and now all that’s left inside of me is dust.

I go back and click the second link, then the third, cycling through the old articles and interviews as if I’m expecting to find something I haven’t seen a hundred times.

Samara and Miranda are probably having drinks at The Rooftop right now. Samara texted me an hour ago, asking me if I was sure I didn’t want to go out with them instead of stalking my ex for once. I replied with another lame excuse. I’ve been avoiding people for so long that it feels like I’ve forgotten how to function in society, like some sort of feral raccoon who only knows how to hide and eat trash.

I’ve gone through all the links. I refresh the search page. Nothing has changed, obviously, but I refresh it again and again, feeling like I’m desperately knocking on his door and trying to be let in. Then I start over at the first link.

“In response to the recent speculation, I want to clarify that Julia and I parted ways a while back. She’s an incredibly gifted and wonderful person, and I truly wish the best for her.”

Samara is right, I can’t keep doing this. It’s crazy. There’s only one thing to do. I move my cursor over the red button and take a deep breath. Then I block his profile before I can change my mind.

As his picture vanishes, the entire screen blurs. It would seem that I still have some tears left.

beginning / previous / next

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Sixteen

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: angsty angst… it’s not getting better anytime soon lol and a few cuss words.

Notes: Ngl this one is a little light on the word count(so sorry!), but ya girl has been dealing with a week of no power following a hurricane… This chapter still hurt me in the chest, but I’m trying to be patient while I get to the juicy bits! If the name I have for your blog isn’t working, please let me know and I can fix it asap for you!

Word Count: 1300

Series Masterlist

• Late September, 2005 • Forks HS •

Reader

Getting involved romantically with a vampire - what’s there to lose?

Everything, apparently.

To include my sanity, my piece and fucking quiet too.

“Did you finally scare him off? Or did he realize he could do better and run for the hills?” Lauren Mallory sneers, Forks High School’s resident bitch.

Her manicured hand slowly slides up my locker door and snaps it shut, I manage to snatch my hand back in time to avoid the thin metal before it could do any damage.

Rolling my eyes, I turn and head towards my next class silently, not in the mood to engage for fear of tossing fuel onto her fire. I can hear her cackle as I walk away, thankfully she doesn’t follow or I would’ve truly lost it.

Rounding the corner and finally out of her line of sight, I beeline for the nearest bathroom. Stumbling in, I push open the closest unoccupied stall and sit on the toilet, bag in my lap.

Eyes closed, deep breaths, it’s fine. Everything is fine. Her words mean nothing and they’re empty, she’s an opportunistic cunt and doesn’t know the situation. Her words mean nothing, Y/n.

Except they plant a seed of doubt anyways.

He did run for the hills, they all did. I told him I loved him and nothing. Gone, erased from my life, ripped off like a stuck band aid that leaves behind a red welt and a slight sting.

Except there’s nothing slight about the sting in my chest. Breathe Y/n, or you’ll lose the fucking plot and freak. With shaking hands, I pull out a pack of gum and unwrap a stick - something minty to focus on.

Two quick knocks on the stall door break me from my thoughts, “Occupied!” I manage to choke out.

“It’s me, you alright?” Angela Weber’s quiet voice rings out in the otherwise empty bathroom.

“Oh um, yeah. I-I’m okay.” The tremble in my voice is obvious, but thankfully she affords me the nicety of not commenting on it.

“Okay, well I just wanted to check on you.” A pause, “I saw what happened in the hallway, she’s wrong you know.” My breath hitches and I know she hears it. “Everyone saw the way he looked at you… Just know, she’s wrong.”

I watch under my stall door as her white tennis shoes disappear and the main bathroom door swings shut, quickly swallowing a sob trying to worm it’s way up my throat.

Some days he feels like a figment of my imagination, a dream I dreamt and can’t discern from reality. And some days I’m reminded that he was real, that he made me feel things I can’t get rid of.

Things I really wished I could get rid of.

One of the worst side effects of them being gone is how lonely I didn’t realize I’d be without them. I mean, from my first day here Jasper captivated me.

Now… Now everything seems dull and draining. A different kind of quiet that leaves me empty, a complete opposite to his comfortable silence. No one to talk to, no one to look forward to seeing, no one that understands.

Well, one person understands.

But she’s not exactly here enough to carry a conversation. Not that I can blame her, I’ve been avoiding people in my own way. They either ask about them and why they’re gone or they look at me with pity, both of which I don’t care to experience.

The days begin blurring together, the rain that’s always pouring over the Olympic Peninsula drowns everything constantly - almost as if the sky is sad in solidarity with me. Music seems too itchy and loud, books are too hard to focus on to just read what’s on the page, and just about anything else I could think of to get him off my mind is too… Complex. Stressful. Monumentous. Impossible.

Three familiar rapid, but soft knocks at my door snap me from the reverie of my silent room.

“Dinner is ready, sweetheart.” I think the crease between my mother’s brow is a permanent fixture nowadays, one that’s entirely my fault.

“I’m not really hungry.” Watching her face fall immediately has me scrambling for a cover, “But I’m sure I’ll be hungry later if you save some in the fridge.” The smile I give her isn’t fooling anyone, but at least I’m trying.

I have to try.

“Okay baby girl, you say the word and I’ll heat it up for you.” She lingers a few beats longer, her grip on the doorframe looks like it’s the only thing keeping her upright before she retreats downstairs.

My mom isn’t the most involved in my life and I prefer it that way, but Jasper being gone… The way it’s affected me is also taking its toll on her and it’s obvious. Guilt begins worming it’s way into my chest and prickles at the corners of my eyes, fuck.

I have to try.

• Late October, 2005 • Ithaca, New York •

Jasper

Life has been… extremely off-kilter since that night.

My hunger comes with a vengeance I’ve never experienced and my moods? They rival Rosalie’s and I’m supposed to be able to control them.

I’ve tried going longer between feedings to try and beat this crisis into submission, but it feels as though I’m fighting an uphill battle and I can’t see the crest of the mountain. I’m drowning and these feelings are dragging me further from the surface, the light is getting harder to see and my lungs are screaming.

Emmett hasn’t spoken to me this entire time out of frustration and I get it. The rest of my family is on pins and needles, the silence at home stretching open with every passing moment. Esme has been nothing but a pile of worry since Edward decided to become nomadic for a while. A temptation I myself feel, but can’t act on - not while my hunger is this volatile. Carlisle is working the night shift at a nearby hospital, our new location not as overcast as our previous one. Alice… Alice is angry. I catch her staring off into space more often than not and I know, the temptation to ask is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to. Rose is strangely quiet, content to take care of small things around the house Esme would normally busy herself with and trying to cheer her mate up to no avail.

It all feels too much and not enough.

I know that if I could sleep, I would dream of her. I would try to at least. Try to remember her scent, the softness of her sweaters, the curve of her hip, the way she sinks into me when I hold her… White-hot flames lick me from the inside out and I close my eyes against the inferno, her smile a torturous image behind my eyelids. Get a grip - for fuck’s sake, you chose this to keep her safe.

I chose this to keep her safe.

I will keep her safe. Even if that means staying away from her, even if that means removing her, my heart, from my chest.

“I love you.”

Her confession rips through me even now, three of the most perfect combinations of words to grace those beautiful lips and I… Left her. Like a coward.

I left behind my heart on the driveway of a now cold and empty house. Alone. Unanswered.

But she’s safe. Safe from the monster crawling around under the surface of my skin, begging and pleading to be set free.

Safe from me.

Next

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@RavensandWriters -I couldn’t find your blog sweetheart! Your entry on google forms had spaces and I’m not sure if it might’ve auto-corrected, I’m so sorry!!🥺 if you see this, shoot me a PM or comment and I’ll fix it!

[cecilxa]

the boba theory

summary: ayato likes boba, but he loves you even more

contents: fluff, humour, lightheartedness all around, ayato is down bad, gn!reader (use of they/them pronouns), reader really likes boba sorry if you don't like it (bobalover!reader), quite dialogue adjacent

cw: food

a/n: longer than usual, but i thought it was a really cute twist on the olive theory and just ran with it! @ibitekaeya i promised i would write more ayato :)

wc: 1.4k

Ayato can feel your gaze on him. But strangely, he doesn’t feel it on his face, nor his arms, nor his, ahem, behind (which you, for some reason he pretends not to know, seem to like looking at). No, he feels it on one of his gloved hands, the other one presently holding one of yours. But even then, no, that doesn’t seem right either. So what could you possibly be staring at?

Oh.

It’s his boba. The smooth, creamy milk tea of his dreams combined with chewy tapioca pearls creates a sensation that’s refreshing for his palate and also soothing to the throat. It’s really quite a perfect drink to enjoy at all times, even when it’s cold out. You also seem to agree, given how you’ve been looking at it the whole time on your walk through the street.

He can’t help but feel a little jealous. It’s one of the rare off days he gets, and you’re more interested in his boba than him? The betrayal. Sure, it may be somewhat (and he’d like to stress the somewhat) childish of him, but what’s he got to do to be able to receive some attention? You haven’t even noticed how his eyes have drooped slightly, or how his smile is ever so strained around the corners of his mouth, or how his grip has tightened, which is causing some pearls to slowly creep up the cup…

“Ayato!”

He startles, his grip lessens, and those sweet, sweet tapioca pearls are saved for today. And his dignity, you guess. 

“Yes? Was there something you saw that interested you? I’ll gladly pay for it.”

“No, it’s just that your boba was going to spill–you were gripping it so tightly.”

“Oh.”

He silently thanks the Electro Archon. It’s only the second date, and he’s not sure whether he’d be able to handle the late nights in his bed replaying the horrifying moment of his boba spilling all over his clothes while his crush looks on. He’s cringing just thinking about it. Sure, he’d be able to play it off, but hotpot nights would definitely be a little more intense. Maybe she also has a fondness for similar milk-based drinks?

To steer the conversation away from embarrassing moments, an idea strikes, and he ushers you towards a nearby stall on the street, one that gives off a slightly sweet scent. 

“A boba tea, please.” 

The vendor’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of Kamisato Ayato ordering a simple drink, and while with a supposed significant other?! Just know that the rumours will be spreading as soon as you leave the stall–not that they’ve not started already.

“Right away, sir.” 

You look at Ayato questionably. He already has a boba, so why would he need another one? Similarly to the vendor’s expression, your eyes also widen, although much more subtly than the person shyly peeking up to grab another glance at the esteemed Yashiro Commissioner. 

Without even having to look at you, Ayato chuckles again, but with something akin to fondness.

“You’ve guessed it. It’s for you. I would offer you mine–I don’t really like it anyway–but I doubt you’d want it with all my saliva.”

The white lie falls off his tongue as if he were actually telling the truth.

He turns to hand the vendor some cash, but before he can properly give it over, you grab his hand and shake your head. 

“It’s mine, right? So I should pay. I’ve paid for stuff in the past when we’ve been together; it doesn’t matter whether we’re on a date or not.”

He hesitates, then retracts his hand. He then smiles–one that lifts the corners of his eyes, and one that reveals the crinkles of his mouth.

“Of course. If that is your wish.”

You proceed to give the vendor some cash and take the boba from their hands. If only you were looking at Ayato instead.

“Your patronage is greatly appreciated!”

Walking away, Ayato dips his face towards your ear and whispers softly, his hot breath tickling your neck.

“Is this your first time?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“A secret for our next date.”

He winks. You can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks. Why did he have to be this attractive? To cool yourself down (and to avoid keeping eye contact), you decide to take a rather large gulp of the drink, which even Ayato is slightly concerned about.

“Don’t drink too violently. The pearls could get stuck in your throat, and I don’t think either of us would appreciate a surprise trip to the doctor’s on only our second date, hm?”

You nod absentmindedly, but then the flavour hits your tongue. And then your eyes light up in a way that makes your whole face glow. As you chew on the tapioca pearls, a smile grows on your face, which widens as time goes on. The soothing sensation! The mesh of textures! The subtle sweetness! What a delight to experience! 

All the while, Ayato’s now the one staring at you with widened eyes. The look on your face is nothing short of extraordinary. Something in his heart stirs. Seeing you this happy, he’s now certain of the fact that whatever you ask for will be granted if the smile that graces your features is one that he gets to experience. It’s somehow only now that he realises you really have him wrapped around your pretty little finger. His eyes crinkle. 

“You never fail to amaze me.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Please, carry on.”

–

It’s been a few months since that incident, and Ayato still recalls it fondly whenever he’s feeling down or for motivation to finish his work quicker so that he’s able to spend some much-needed quality time with you. He smiles softly, chuckling at the expression he so vividly remembers. The look on your face is so endearing that he wonders how lucky he must’ve been when his ‘hunch’ ended up being the source of one of his most cherished memories.  

“What’s so funny?”

Your question grounds him in reality as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. 

“How I’m looking forward to beating Thoma in our hotpot game today; the look on his face will truly be something… hehe.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, said housekeeper walks in, carrying a tall drink of boba. You gasp a little, something only Ayato can hear, and he grins. However, said housekeeper also adds a message that makes his heart not-so-subtly skip a beat. 

“My lord, here’s your boba that you requested. It’s your favourite flavour too.”

Thoma then sends a greeting your way, which you reply to with a grin. A pause, and then Ayato hears what might possibly be the loudest laugh you’ve ever let out. 

“Good joke, Thoma! I even believed you for a second there. He even told me yesterday how much he disliked it. It’s quite sweet, actually. He always has one with him so that even if we’re not near a drinks vendor, I can still have one, even if he’s not expecting me to be there.”

Thoma awkwardly laughs along, sending questioning looks towards Ayato, to which he responds with a smile that contains little to no mirth at all. Through gritted teeth, Ayato also laughs, although it sounds much more like a bark than a proper chortle. 

“Darling, could you excuse Thoma and me for a quick moment? I promise we won’t be long.”

Poor Thoma. 

“Oh, sure. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Ayato strides deftly out of the room, with Thoma following behind. He also doesn’t want you to notice the faint heat that he feels spreading across his ears.

“My lord, what are you talking about? Everyone in the Kamisato Estate knows how much you like boba.”

Ayato sighs.

“Their happiness is the one thing I hold most dear to my heart. If that means sacrificing some… drink, albeit one that I also hold dear, then I would not hesitate to purge it from my diet. They make me do foolish things to my heart, and subsequently make me do foolish things in return.”

Thoma is left stunned, while Ayato swiftly dismisses him to go back inside. He does turn back, however, and gives him a smile that never means good things. 

“I’m looking forward to our hotpot today. Make sure to be sufficiently prepared.”

Poor Thoma. 

Ayato pads in quietly, his footsteps silent as a cat’s, but pauses. He lets his gaze linger on your satisfied expression, and his ears pick up a pleasant hum. How wonderful. How so, so wonderful you are. When the time comes, he guesses he’ll have to reveal the grand truth, but for now, he’s perfectly content basking in your happiness. 

What you do for love. 

a/n: likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated!! 💙 (blue for ayato)

[firstkanaphans]

AkkAyan should get more than just cutesy prompts. Would you write L for them?

[L]eaving hickies on them

Akk was about three seconds away from putting his hand down Aye’s pants when Aye stopped him.

“Akk, baby, hold on,” he said, breaking their kiss. Akk had him pinned down on the bed and despite his protestations, he looked thoroughly ravished. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was an absolute mess, his lips were red and swollen. Good. That had been Akk’s intention. “I have to go. I’m supposed to meet June in five minutes to work on our poli sci project. I told you that.”

“Reschedule,” Akk said. He kissed him again. 

Luckily, Aye was an incredibly easy person to distract. Show him even a little bit of attention and he folded like a wet napkin. He tangled his fingers in Akk’s hair and kissed him back. 

Akk thought they were actually getting somewhere this time—that Aye had finally given up the ridiculous notion of leaving—but when he reached for Aye’s belt a second time, Aye once again pushed him away.

“Akk,” he scolded playfully. “I’ve already rescheduled on her twice. The project’s due next week. I have to go.”

“You can be a little late,” Akk said, leaning in for another kiss, but this time, Aye stopped him before their lips could meet.

“That’s what you said last time and then you fucked me for two hours straight, so forgive me if I don’t believe you.” It was as if saying the words aloud finally connected the dots in his head. He gasped and then shoved Akk off of him so that he could sit up. Reluctantly, Akk sat as well. “Akk Pipitphattana, are you stalling me on purpose?”

“Of course not,” Akk said petulantly. 

“Oh my god, you are. Why?!”

Akk tried so hard to bite back the words, but they spewed out of him anyway. “I don’t like you hanging out with June, okay? She has a crush on you.”

Aye’s eyes widened comically. “Akk, I’m gay.”

“Yeah, but she’s not.” 

Aye’s disbelieving smile turned into a smirk. “Oh my god. You’re jealous,” he said.

“No,” Akk denied even though it was very obviously true. 

“You’re jealous,” Aye repeated, grabbing the collar of Akk’s shirt by one finger and forcibly pulling him closer. “And you’ve been seducing me to keep me away from her.”

Akk looked up at the ceiling, feigning ignorance. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Aye took Akk’s face in his hands and forced him to look at him. “You’re jealous,” he said for the third time. “Admit it.”

“Fine,” Akk snapped, swatting Aye away. “I’m fucking jealous.”

Aye was clearly very pleased by this turn of events. He preened. “Just how jealous are you?”

“I’m not playing this game with you,” Akk said, moving to get off of the bed. Aye had teased him enough for one night. But before he could climb off, Aye dragged him back down so that they were in the same position they had been when this conversation started: Aye laying on his back with Akk hovering above him. Akk’s eyes tracked helplessly down to Aye’s lips and Aye licked them as if he knew exactly what Akk was thinking.

“I want you to show me how jealous you are,” Aye said. The humor in his voice had faded and in its place was raw desire. 

Akk didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed him, using the kiss as an outlet for all of the anger and frustration he had been feeling ever since Aye told him his plans for the night. He kissed him hard enough to bruise and when Aye bared his neck to him, Akk kissed that too, nipping the skin and then soothing it with his tongue until he could feel Aye’s moans reverberating through his lips. And this time, when Akk reached for the zipper on Aye’s pants, he didn't stop him.

When Aye finally left the apartment a little while later, he was very, very late for his study date and his neck was decorated in fresh lip-shaped bruises that no one—not even June—could possibly ignore. Akk let his boyfriend go, his jealousy sated, and instead fell asleep in the same bed where they had just made love, thoroughly satisfied.

For the Fluff Prompt ABCs

[neptunedivine]

my 2023 solar return observations

(tw: possible eating disorder mentions)

I was looking over my solar return chart yesterday and it made me very nervous. When I get nervous I feel better writing everything out. So that’s what I’m going to do :)

✨natal north node year✨ ✧ I turn my north node degree this year! My NN is Gemini 11H at 21° and in combination with everything else going on in my solar return, it does amp up the anxiety for me. I feel like I’m gonna be shoved into my destiny because I’ve been stalling for so long (well not stalling as avoiding, but not taking the leap(s) I need to out of fear).

8H stellium ✧ tbh I just wanted to address the obvious in all its glory before I tried to dissect it any further. Transformations feel like they’ll be a focal point this year, like heavily. But then again looking at the planets that make up this stellium (aside from Chiron), it doesn’t seem too bad? We’ll see.

Virgo rising at 3° + mercury as the chart ruler in Pisces 8H @ 29° ✧ I taste a lot of criticism in the air (mainly from myself but we’ll see). Some of this energy looks familiar because natally I have my mercury in Pisces in the 8H but @ 10°. Virgo is on my 3H cusp natally as well. Naturally knowing myself I feel like writing is going to be the focus for the year. Since my natal NN is also ruled by my chart ruler this year, I think I’m going to be pushed to really start making music this year. Especially since mercury is conjunct with my sun too. I think putting more time and dedication into it will change my life? (I’ve been viewing a lot of readings lately telling me that my passions and creativity will grant me great abundance so this could be in association) There could be an emphasis on me speaking my truth as well. Possible recognition as well with it being at 29°? It feels intense not only because it’s a fame degree but it’s the fate degree and conjunct with the Aries point.

Pisces sun 8H @ 28° ✧ I’m used to the placement but not in the 8H. With it being conjunct with my mercury I feel like this could be related to me shedding a bad mindset or patterns in my habits this year? (I feel like this pairs well with my Saturn placement which I’ll talk about later). As well as finding a trusted source to have deep conversations with (possibly a therapist) seems very likely for this year.

Aquarius Moon 6H @ 19° ✧ I think I will be very analytical and regulatory with my emotions and my feelings this year. Instead of feeling everything and questioning everything and feeling lost, especially with the possibility of a therapist, being able to dissect the reason for why I feel certain ways may happen. I also spiraled a lot in the past year so there could be a sense of grounding brought into the year.

Taurus Venus 9H @ 2° + + NN @ 4°+ Uranus @ 16° ✧ I don’t see myself traveling really? I could travel to somewhere beautiful, but since my natal venus is in 9H too this would be a continuation of my love for other cultures. A possible love interest from a different country or uni could be possible, but my guides know for sure that I’m not looking for that right now…right? Idk I’ve been very career driven for a few years now and I don’t see that changing. But who knows since my SR Uranus and NN are in the same house lol. Speaking of Uranus here, please for the love of God let this not play with my degree. I'm supposed to graduate next spring.

✧ I’m just now noticing how many feminine degrees there are that inspire creativity (Taurus (2°,14°,26°), Libra (7°,19°), and Cancer (4°, 16°,28°). Pretty cool. ✧

Gemini Mars 10H @ 26° ✧ Pairing drive (Mars) with curiosity (Gemini), this could relate to my passion and writing outside of the box of what is expected from me, or who I'd expect. (I have a list of talent that I really want to write for and I think about them when I write songs sometimes so that could be relevant). Or I could be just collaborating more? I’m not sure with the 8H stellium though. Oh! A drive to learn new things maybe? I’ve always wanted to get into production but with it being so white cis-male dominant it felt gatekeepy. But miraculously I have I think enough tools to figure out a good part of it independently.

Aries Jupiter 8H @ 16° ✧ I keep reading good things about this placement and I’m very excited about it. I could be receiving a large sum(s) of money this year (scholarships?). Also, this placement is not only conjunct with my natal venus but MC as well, so this energy could be amplified since having Venus/Jupiter in the 8H are very strong wealth indicators, but I could be gaining monetary abundance or just abundance in general towards my career somehow.

Pisces Saturn 6H @ 1° (tw: possible eating disorder mentions) ✧ I was watching a tiktok a few weeks ago about Saturn going into Pisces and what that could mean. They mentioned an end to things that relate to escapism, which makes sense since in modern astrology Pisces is ruled by Neptune, like overeating and procrastination. I feel like both of those topics would be covered in my life this year since the 6H rules over the physical body and health, but also the daily and routines. There could be a theme of cutting the bs and getting in control of my life in these areas. My Chiron natally is in the 6H so this has been a struggle I’ve been dealing with for a while. I don’t know if the "problem of Chiron” will be resolved but I think significant improvements could be made.

Pisces Neptune 7H @ 25° ✧ I don’t have the energy to be delusional in love this year please abeg. I have Neptune in the 7H but in Aquarius, so there’s an element of this that I’m used to. I could be continuing to manifest my dream partner? Because I do that every day when I listen to love songs and I really enjoy it. But a real person? In the flesh? Right now? Absolutely not, pass.

Capricorn Pluto 5H @ 29° ✧ I have my natal pluto in sag at 17° so I’m used to some of the energy but I think with it being Capricorn which rules over hard work and discipline rather than the freedom sag grants, I will take my passions seriously enough to make moves. Personally, I stress so much about making music and my skills and being really talented and getting everything right but I don’t do anything. I just sit in my charged obsessive energy. But hopefully, I’ll make the right moves this year. Recognition worthy? Possibly with how much 29° is popping up in my chart.

Taurus MC @ 29° ✧ The idea of getting recognition for my passion and my work feels very daunting for me because I don’t feel ready at all. I'm very perfectionistic with my passion. I'm so adamant about making it my career and being very well-known for it. I get very nervous about f*cking up. Regardless I don't think this year cares I might be shoved into the position to be seen, maybe not at its height because I glanced at my SR for the next two years and they feel like extensions of this year, like in acts.

that's all for now. see you later! :)

[waitmyturtles]

THIS. EPISODE. DID. ME. IN. Moonlight Chicken episode 5 thoughts:

1) Let’s just call this episode ONLY FRIENDS, AMIRITE? Alan, Jim, let me tell you about this showwww...

2) No, seriously, this was another case -- as I am learning about Aof’s oeuvre -- where he packs SO MUCH into one episode that my head is left spinning (I’m still recovering from episode 10 of Bad Buddy). Like I reblogged earlier today: I LOVE that Aof is messing with the couplings, the GMMTV recipes. Love it, love it, love it. Seeing First and Mix get cute gave me the shivers, I can’t lie. 

3) We get the history of Wen and Alan. We get a lovely repeat of a trope he so beautifully memorialized in Bad Buddy. We get the other side of that trope -- when the relationship ends, the memories sour. 

How do you deal with that -- how do you process that? Oh lord, we got to see that through Wen, his processing, his thinking. His sympathy and compassion to Alan, which he still had! He still had their ring! Wen was willing to face Alan’s sarcasm, to take the hits, because he was afraid of truly breaking Alan -- until he absolutely HAD to break Alan, to break his own misery and fate. 

God, could Mix and First have done any better with demonstrating the hills and valleys of a relationship? I’m shaking my head because, while it was devastating to watch, it all rang SO TRUE. Aof didn’t flinch at the pain, the stomach twists, of the demise of this relationship. Ugh, even Alan at the bank with the loan situation. The SIMMERING! The anger, the sadness, the RECOGNITION that his bond with Wen was on the way out. With or without Jim there. AND -- Alan talking about Wen as if Wen were a possession. First SHOWED US what Alan’s fucking problems were! Oh, my gut. So painful to watch. 

4) And then. Jim and Wen at the chicken rice stall. And WEN, pushing JIM! Inherited trauma much, Wen?

We know why Jim is holding back from Wen at that point. We know Jim is preoccupied with his past. Whether or not Wen is acknowledging it doesn’t matter at that moment. What Wen is doing is pushing Jim like Alan pushes Wen. And Jim is like, hold up, hands up, I don’t want none of y’alls drama right now. I’m not there for this. (Which, to be honest, I took as a legit position at that point, despite feeling sorry for Wen. I appreciate a no drama stance from an OG uncle.)

5) But Wen. My heart for Wen. What I loved about the interconnection between his conversation with Gong and his run through beautiful outdoor Pattaya, recollecting everything he was going through -- we know what Wen’s moral conflict is. His moral conflict is that he’s earning money through a job that will destroy a key corner of Pattaya’s culture, the culture he’s experiencing at the moment of his run. His ability to function as an adult is literally impeded by his guilt towards Pattaya, towards Jim, towards the culture he’s going to influence deeply, and by his ability to afford (or not afford) his own place. His guilt towards Alan. His desperation towards Jim. His own poverty, financially and emotionally. 

Is he looking for Jim to save him? And, is that Jim’s role? 

6) And I haven’t even begun to talk about Heart and Li Ming yet. (THERE’S SO MUCH IN THIS EPISODE. I’ll come back to Jim and Wen once more before this is done.)

Firstly, with Fourth and Gemini -- LOVED THE FAN SERVICE. And I’m not even watching MSP, but I am sure the MSP fans loved the mascots and the pictures -- super sweet. Wen’s cute-cute uncle smile towards the two teens, gah, my twinkling heart.

7) Y’all, I really don’t know how much more I can take of these damn parents in dramas right now, lol. I just posted this today to help me process all the family trauma I’ve been seeing lately in the dramas I’ve been watching (and tbh, I’m doing it to myself, right, I’m choosing my own dramas, but STILL). 

But to see Heart’s parents struggling to communicate with their son. And to acknowledge that they haven’t had anyone to interpret for Heart in three years. And to see those parents actually have the motherfucking audacity to cry over Heart’s anger about literally being abandoned. 

[All bad drama parents that I’m experiencing right now -- please come with me as I lock you in a windowless room so you can ruminate on your crimes. (Which you won’t, because you’re all sociopathic narcissists, but ANYWAY.)]

@wen-kexing-apologist‘s prediction that Li Ming would become an interpreter was right for the present moment, and I loved that that came true. Along with this -- I absolutely LOVE that many of Heart and Li Ming’s conversations are not subtitled. I LOVE THIS, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT. 

What all of this does for me -- the un-subtitled conversations, the interpreting -- it demonstrates the growth of their intimacy. Why should us as the audience -- WHY SHOULD HEART’S PARENTS -- be privy to a couple’s most intimate moments? Heart’s parents think they could control him, because they were clearly ashamed of him. Heart TRUSTED Li Ming to communicate to his parents Heart’s most critical thoughts and feelings. What gorgeous intimacy to see growing between the two teens. The trust. Heart can only trust Li Ming at this moment, because he can’t trust his parents -- not only with his inner thoughts, his own personal intimacy, but to even give him basic emotional care. 

@bl-inded’s analysis was spot on. I, too, also got the sense that Heart’s parents thought that they were doing enough, because they were taking basic care of their son without further engaging with him -- because they were ashamed of him, maybe even disgusted with him. What purpose would Heart serve to them after he lost his hearing? I’m sure they asked themselves that question (or, at least, Asian viewers/us broken Asian children would KNOW inherently that they asked themselves that question). 

8) A few last passing thoughts:

- I wish I could find the post here on Tumblr, but someone once wrote that the things that we fall in love with when we first meet a person -- their sarcasm, say, their sense of humor, their stubbornness -- those things often become the qualities that we end up hating as the relationship ends. Because the sarcasm gets turned back into the relationship. Oh, Alan. 

- I thought the use of sound and music were wisely leveraged. I loved the chirping outside the outdoor restaurant where Alan and Wen were eating during the break-up. It was very indicative of Pattaya’s outdoor eating culture. AND: when did we NOT hear music? When we saw Heart’s unused keyboard on his dresser as the camera pulled back on him and Li Ming as he wept. 

- Finally: I really liked the slight flip of the paradigm of older culture vs. modern culture at the end of the episode. I kind of felt like it was the younger crew --Wen and Li Ming -- who were the brave ones of the episode, to step up and out to reflect how they wanted to move forward in their worlds. Li Ming WAS going to support Heart, no matter what. And Wen WAS going to confront Jim, no matter what, and demand comfort from Jim -- because he know that Jim has comfort to offer.

What the HELL will we be faced with tomorrow, oh my god. I’m going to need a large cup of hot water with lemon, please, my poor heart!

I’m actually going to give this episode 🐔🐔 for the Khao Man Gai Appreciation Rating -- even though we didn’t see KMG, we got a clutch cooking tip from Uncle Jim about the old winter melons. AND, y’all, I made one of Hot Thai Kitchen’s KMG sauces, nam jim tao jiew the other night and it was bomb. Highly recommend!

[kittlesandbugs]

Just training (AO3 link) Pairing: Some hints of complicated Chargestep Warnings: None Word Count: 1060 Prompt: from @sidestepping, POV switch: rewrite / riff on a canon scene from Rebirth or Retribution, but from the perspective of another character present rather than through Sidestep's eyes. Summary: A re-write of the scene in Rebirth where Ortega first meets the puppet, from his perspective.  Dialogue and scene flow cribbed directly from the book to match, everything else is me lol.

I can't believe my luck when I step out of the changing room for my usual session and catch a glimpse of familiar auburn curls in the corner. Familiar short, curvy form accentuated by the white belt cinching the dogi tight at her waist. 

Why is she here now? 

Making contact is something I've been chewing on for a while. Doing it at Joes is too suspicious. Can't randomly accost her on the street, that's just creepy. Especially for a woman of her stature. Training at the same dojo presented opportunity, and I’ve been building my cover as a regular member, but the opposite sessions presented a challenge: I almost never make it to the afternoon class. Just showing up there late and approaching seemed too suspicious. 

This is the chance I've been waiting for. She's the one out of the ordinary here. My curiosity over a stranger is only natural. It's a perfect cover. 

I watch quietly from the corner of the side mats as she practices forms in the mirror. Her motions are jagged, tight, frustration clear in every step, every movement. Light glances off her cheeks, is she crying? 

She is.

I almost feel bad for this. But it needs to be done. I've stalled long enough. Things are moving and I need to find out what, no one works with Mortum for fun. 

She steps off the mat, buries her face in a towel, and I take the opportunity to approach. Just a concerned stranger, that's all I am. Wait until she's calm, starting to collect herself and… 

"Are you alright, miss?"

She startles, looks up with wide bottle green eyes. This is the closest I've ever gotten to her. Even red and messy from crying, she's beautiful, soft round face, a button nose with a smattering of freckles dusted across her pale complexion. 

"I'm not sure," she says, low voice wet and uneasy. "Just stress, I think."

Something going wrong on the job? Work the angle, maybe I can get something. Put on a charming, disarming smile. 

"Are you new here? I've never seen you before," she asks, answering my smile. Dimpled cheeks, perfect straight white teeth, a tilt to her hips, she's good at working the same angles. She has to be in her line of work. 

"I'm a member."  No lying here, too easy to expose and blow me out of the water. Keep circling. "I usually attend the early sessions. Need to wake up somehow. Coffee rarely does the trick anymore."

"Ah, that's it then." Slightest tremor in her voice. Nervousness? Relief? I can't be sure. "I'm not usually here this early, but I needed to get some frustration out. Bad night."

Did something happen last night? Shit. Should've been working, but I still couldn't believe Riley—  No, focus, idiot. Turn on the charm, widen that smile, work the angle. Riley isn't here. She is. 

"Well, let's hope your bad night comes with a silver lining." I pause for effect, widen my smile, a little wink. "Or does that only work for clouds?" 

"Mixing metaphors already?" Her smile turns cold, voice hardening. "Aren't you supposed to be drunk for that?" 

Wrong move, maybe flirting wasn't the way to go. Might be something used with her too often with those looks. Better pull back. 

"I suppose you've got a point."  Let my gaze fall, show some vulnerability. I'm not a threat, not a creep, just a sympathetic stranger having a conversation. "Not that I would mind a drink. Got enough problems already."

"Oh?" A shift in her stance, green eyes widening, inviting me to open up, and damn, I can see why she's so good at her job.  Building that veneer of trust and openness. 

"It's nothing, really."

"Try talking about it. It's better than a drink this time of day, trust me."

As much as I would like to talk about my problems, talk about Riley, Chen would make a much better ear. This is definitely not the person to give any kind of ammunition to. 

I shrug. "It's just that a friend ended up in some trouble, and I'm trying to work out how to fix things."

"You one of the good guys then? To care that much about your friend?" 

Put my smile back on, don't let it show that I noticed that choice of words. Does she know who I am? It wouldn't be out of the question, I am what amounts to a celebrity in this town, but why keep the dance up? Does she suspect something? 

Turn it back on her, throw her off balance. This is no different than being on the mat or in a fight. "You don't have friends who do?" 

She scowls, bullseye. "I work too much for close relationships."

Something I can more than sympathize with. "That kind of ambition can be stressful.  Sometimes it's nice to have friends, even if it's just someone to fight who can't counter your every move." 

I flick my gaze meaningfully to the mirror behind her.  It lands and she laughs, relaxes a little. 

"Reflections do have their disadvantages, I suppose."

And there, there's my opening. 

"Want to train together, then?"  Hesitation wars with a yes in her eyes and the stark difference in our size and rank catches up with me. Not to even mention my mods, if she's aware of them.  I don't want to scare her off. "I'll be gentle."

Her eyes narrow, gaze turns challenging. Not so easy to scare off then. "Sure, if you think you're up for it."

"Wouldn't have asked otherwise." Give her a grin, challenge accepted. "I'm Ortega by the way. Ricardo Ortega." 

No flash of recognition at the name. Only anticipation, some fire in her eyes as she answers back, "Jolene." 

Ha! Flaming locks of auburn hair, eyes of emerald green. What an obvious alias. She either knows who I am already and is daring me to say something about it, or isn't aware of my identity as a Ranger at all. I'll keep the play at normalcy until she proves otherwise, if she does. Help her with training. Get her to want to come back for more. I can build on that, play the long con. 

Maybe have a little fun in the meantime, too. 

"Let me just find us a spot on the mat, then."

[dumdumsun]

Wax and Wane

A/N: Sorry again for the late update! We're nearing the end! I wanna wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving and a happy holidays!

Warnings: blood and death, mentions of vomit and blood, brief mention of overdose

Word Count: 3498

—————————————

Chapter Fourteen: The Reunion

In a swirl, the contents from Steve’s stomach were flushed down the toilet. He sighed out and rested his arm on the seat, too tired to care about how unhygienic it was. In the neighboring stall, Robin laid on her back with her legs straight up in the air and her heels resting on the door. “The room stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you?”

Steve looked up at the ceiling to find it still. “Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?”

“Maybe. Ask me something.” She switched to a Russian accent. “Interrogate me.”

“Okay. Interrogate you. Sure. Um…” He chuckled and sat up straight. “When was the last time you, uh, peed your pants?”

“Today.”

“What?”

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw.”

The two burst out into laughter. “Oh, my god.” Steve exclaimed.

“It was just a little bit, though.” She giggled.

“Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.” He heartfeltly groaned as he pinched his nose. Robin heard this and laughed a bit harder as she sat up and leaned against the wall.

“Oh…” She sighed out the last of her laughs. “Alright, my turn.”

“Okay. Hit me.”

She ran her hand through her locks as she thought of a question. “Have you ever… ever been in love?”

There were a couple beats of silence before he answered. “Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” He made his hand in the shape of a gun and imitated a gunshot sound playfully.

“Oh, my god…” Robin groaned. “She’s such a priss.”

He hummed. “Turns out, not really.”

“Are you still in love with Nancy?” She scoffed.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Steve stared off as a thoughtful look came about his features. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He chuckled. “It’s crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, ‘You know, you gotta find your Suzie. You gotta find your Suzie’.”

Robin furrowed her brows. “Wait, who’s Suzie?”

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I’m not a hundred percent sure she’s even real.” He ran a hand through his hair with a small laugh before he exhaled out his humor. “But that’s not- that’s not really the point. That doesn’t matter. The point is, this girl, you know, the one that I like… it’s somebody that I… didn’t even talk to in school. And I don’t even know why.”

Heart stuttering, Robin thought of their conversation they had while in captivity as she let him talk.

“Maybe ‘cause Tommy H would’ve made fun of me or… I wouldn’t be… prom king.” He shamefully shook his head. “It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time.”

Her stomach churned and she felt like she was going to throw up all over again, and not because of the drugs.

“First of all, she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like, this summer, I have laughed harder than I have laughed… in a really long time.”

She grinned, knowing that she was the one Steve had spent the most time with this summer.

“And she’s smart. Way smarter than me. You know, she can crack, like, top secret Russian codes and…”

But that grin fell as her heart broke. Not for herself, but for her friend. His confidence in his confession hurt her more than anyone would have thought.

“You know? She’s honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever even met before.”

Robin buried her head into her knees, having no idea how to respond. He thought so highly of her, and she had not a clue as to how to break the news to him. She ran both hands through her hair and tiredly scrubbed at her face.

“Robin?” Steve tapped on the stall wall, unable to see the tears in her eyes when she lifted her head. “Robin, did you just OD in there?”

“No.” She quietly answered with a sigh, slowly leaning back against the tiled wall once again. “I… am still alive.”

This was unlike her, he knew it. The deep sigh that sounded from her stall worried him a bit. So, he scooted over to the wall, grabbed the bottom of it and slid through the gap to her stall.

“The floor’s disgusting.” She watched him lean against the wall across from her.

“Yeah, well,” He hummed. “I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so… What do you think?”

She raised her brows. “About?”

“This girl.”

“She sounds awesome.”

“She is awesome. And what about the guy?”

“I think he’s on drugs, and he’s not thinking straight.”

“Really? ‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual.”

Any amusement on Robin’s face was gone. “He’s not.” She inhaled a shuddering breath and rapidly blinked to keep the tears at bay. “Look… he doesn’t even know this girl. And if he did know her, like- like really know her, I don’t think he’d even want to be her friend.”

Steve shook his head and leaned forward to be closer to her. “No, that’s not true. No way is that true.”

“Listen to me, Steve.” She looked deeply into his eyes. “It shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends. And I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.”

He chuckled. “Robin, that’s exactly why I like you.”

She scoffed, having no choice but to tell him the truth. “Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, confused at the way she tightly shut her eyes.

“It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because…” A heartbroken, twitching smile made its way onto her face. “...she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

Steve furrowed his brows in confusion. “Mrs Click?” He tried, even more confused at her tired chuckle and the way her eyes averted and sparkled with a sort of admiration.

“Tammy Thompson.” She whispered. “I wanted her to look at me. But… she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your… stupid hair.”

Okay, now he was seriously confused.

“And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And you were a douchebag. And- And you didn’t even like her and… I would go home… and just scream into my pillow…”

Steve shook his head, trying his best to understand this situation. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

If possible, her expression became even more heartbroken. “Steve…”

“Yeah?”

She gave him a look, one that just made everything click.

Tammy Thompson’s a girl.

“Oh…”

“Oh.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah… Holy shit.”

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence. Robin couldn’t even look at Steve, certain she had just lost a really cool, really sweet, really funny, really caring, really good friend. She didn’t find those very often, and the fact that she would lose one for just being herself, well…

That was the story of her life.

Steve, on the other hand, didn’t know what to think. The revelation didn’t put any sour feelings in him towards Robin, it just shone a light on their entire relationship. Robin is a very vocal person, ready to speak her mind. If she liked him, she would have said it a long time ago. She wouldn’t have kept it a secret unless it was something that would have damaged their relationship, like revealing a part of herself anyone else would have hated her for.

But not Steve. He wasn’t like that. In fact, her bravery probably made him appreciate his friend even more.

“Steve…” She looked at him in desperation, begging him to say something, anything. “Did you OD over there?”

He smiled. “No, I just, uh… just thinking.”

“Okay…” She whispered, nervously tugging at her earlobe. She was certain he was about to end their friendship right then and there.

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugged, grabbing her attention. “Tammy Thompson, you know, she’s cute and all, but… I mean, she’s a total dud.”

Robin frowned. “She is not.”

“Yes, she is. She wants to be, like, a singer. She wants to move to, like, Nashville and shit.”

“She has dreams.”

“She can’t even hold a tune. She’s practically tone-deaf. Have you heard her?”

Robin dropped her jaw, not wanting to agree with him, but she smiled at the thought of her crush being a terrible singer.

“All the time.” Steve continued, starting to sing off key. “You see me now tonight-”

“Shut up.” She laughed.

“You see me more than-”

“She does not sound like that.”

“She sounds exactly like- That’s a great impersonation of her.”

“She does not. You sound like a Muppet.”

“She sounds like a Muppet. She sounds like a Muppet giving birth.”

Robin laughed as he started to sing again, this time trying to imitate Kermit the Frog.

“And if you could hold me tight…”

She grinned and joined in.

“We’ll be holding on forever!”

“Exactly!”

“I know!”

Their giggle fest was momentarily interrupted when the bathroom door burst open again, Dustin angrily walking in with Erica in tow.

“Okay. What the hell?!”

As soon as they looked at each other again, their laughter started up again, making them appear as if they were still drugged.

-------------------------------------------------

Bradley’s Big Buy welcomed in Billy Hargrove, his boots crunching on the glass left there by its previous occupants. He stopped at the entrance, his senses reaching out for a presence. For Eleven. For his protector.

His senses pulled him to the medicine aisle.

They grew stronger as soon as he was in the aisle, finding a small puddle of blood among a litter of used medical supplies. It bubbled and swirled as he walked over and knelt down in front of it. He dipped his middle and index finger into the blood and brought it close to his face.

Immediately, his head snapped up, pupils dilated and black veins in the whites of his eyes. He knew where she was. And based on the presence he felt in the bathroom, they were together.

At the Hawkins Fun Fair, Karen entered the Gravitron, pulling her daughter and husband along with her. “How does this work?” Ted asked.

“You just lean against the wall and then all of a sudden, you’re gonna feel the wind push you back and it’s gonna-”

“Hold on. Do we have seat belts?”

“No, no, there’s no- Joyce!” Karen lit up at the sight of Joyce Byers rushing up to her with Chief Jim Hopper following behind. “Oh, my gosh! How funny to see you here!”

Joyce gave her a strained smile. “Where are the kids?”

“I… I haven’t seen them. I don’t think they’re here yet.”

From the middle of the ride, the operator craned her neck to them. “You three, up against the wall!”

But Hopper ignored her and turned back to Karen. “No, where are they?”

She chuckled and looked down in thought. “Oh, my gosh, I can hardly keep track these days. Uh, they were at, uh… Dustin’s then Lucas’s, then Max’s.” She shrugged uselessly with a smile. “You know how it is. Summer!”

Ted chuckled with a nod from where he was leaning against the wall beside Holly. “Probably getting into some kinda trouble.”

Suddenly, the ride alarm blared, the door to the only entrance and exit dropping closed. “Last warning, you two! Up against the wall!”

“Hold the ride!” Hopper retaliated.

“On your life, Magnum!”

As soon as the lever was pulled, Joyce and Hopper were thrown against the wall. The floor dropped from below their feet and the ride began to spin. Ted groaned uncomfortably as Karen grinned in exhilaration.

“Woo! Here we go!”

“Holy smokes! Holy smokes!”

They were so entranced by the ride that they didn’t notice Joyce and Hopper clasp hands, interlocking their fingers together.

-------------------------------------------------

The ending of Back to the Future brought life back into the mall, a whole crowd of people exiting the theater in enthusiastic chatter. This was a perfect opportunity for the quartet to slip through and blend in. Dustin creaked the door open, watching the crowd grow bigger as more people filed out.

“And… blend.”

With that, the four exited the bathroom and casually walked into the middle of the crowd, keeping their eyes forward. “Well, shit, that worked.” Erica smirked and turned to Dustin.

“Course, it worked.” He smiled. “We just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”

Steve tilted his head downward and moved his eyes to his friend. “Uh, Dustin?”

“What?”

“Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.”

“Why?”

“Well, I might’ve told them your full name.”

Dustin widened his eyes, trying his best not to shout in a rage. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Dude, I was drugged.”

“So?”

“So?”

“So, you resist. You tough it out. You tough it out like a man.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s easy for you to say.”

“Guys?”

At Robin’s interruption, they focused their gaze forward and froze in their spots. Near the entrance of the mall, one of the guards that had spotted them at the back of the mall was now there, acting as mall security. He had just been talking to a regular citizen and bid them farewell before he slowly turned his head, catching sight of his targets.

“Abort.” Dustin spun around. “Abort.”

Without a second to waste, the group turned with him and rushed through the crowd. Robin led them all to the escalators, but with the mall closing for the night, they had been turned off. They stopped for a quick second to weigh their options, but when they saw the four Russians heading their way, Robin sat in the space between the two escalators, saving time by sliding down. Next down was Steve, then Dustin, then Erica.

At the Fun Fair, Karen and her family had exited the Gravitron behind Hopper and Joyce when a man could be seen screaming at them from the carnival games. She watched in confusion as Hopper grabbed Joyce by the hand and darted to the left. The two stopped for a second, looked at each other, and then dashed between two game stalls.

“They make an odd couple, don’t they?” Karen asked with narrowed eyes, clutching Holly’s hand beside her. She felt Ted come up behind her and place a hand on her shoulder.

“Well, it’s like they say, there’s someone for everyone.”

Karen glanced over at her husband before turning forward again, rolling her eyes with a deep sigh. Yes, there was someone for everyone. And of all people, her someone just so happened to be Ted Wheeler.

-------------------------------------------------

The quartet’s terrified hearts beat as one from where they hid. In all of the places to hide, they hid in the openness of the food court, finding coverage behind a counter of one of the restaurants. They could hear the Russians speaking to each other in their language as their footsteps scattered across the area.

Dustin had nearly fallen on his face on the way to his hiding place, resulting in a quiet squeak of his sneakers against the tile floor. He quickly tucked himself between Robin and Steve with Erica on the other side of the former. The four pulled their knees close to their chests and tried to regulate and quiet their breathing. The guards were drawing closer, their footsteps louder every time they stepped.

They had no plan, no chance for an escape, and no one to know where they were. They were ready to accept their fate, to let these men take them away or maybe flat out shoot them to death.

They all flinched at the sound of a car alarm echoing throughout the food court. There were Russian words of confusion, then a huge crash, and then silence. The four behind the counter slowly rose to their feet to get a look at what just happened.

The Russian guards laid on the ground, most likely dead, glass shards across the tiles, and the car that sat proudly in the middle of the mall now overturned against another food counter on the other side of the food court.

What just happened?

Slowly turning their heads upwards, they could see two very familiar people on the balcony. El and Doc stood side-by-side, their hands clasped together. The rest of the Party, plus Nancy and Jonathan, rushed up to their sides with looks of shock.

But Dustin could only grin at his saviors.

The two groups met each other in the middle of the food court with Doc and Mike helping Eleven walk. Dustin ran up to them with an excited laugh. “You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” He exclaimed and hugged the two girls tight, receiving the affection right back.

“Oh, my god, I am so happy to see you right now!” Doc pulled away enough to press a hard kiss to his cheek.

Erica rushed up to her brother. “Lucas?!”

“What are you doing here?!” He gawked.

“Ask them.” She jutted her thumb to her group. “It’s their fault.”

“True, yeah.” Steve nodded. “Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.”

Robin looked back and forth between the car and the new group. “I don’t understand what happened to that car.”

“El and (Y/N) have superpowers.” Dustin pointed to them.

“I’m sorry?”

“Superpowers.” Steve waved. “They threw it with their minds. C’mon, catch up.”

“That’s El?” Erica pointed to said girl.

“Who’s El?” Robin questioned.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy spoke up. “Who are you?”

“I’m Robin. I work with Steve.”

Dustin excitedly pointed to Robin. “She cracked the top secret code.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “Which is how we found out about the Russians in the first place.”

“Russians?” Jonathan frowned. “Wait, what Russians?”

“The Russians!” He gestured to the car.

“Those were Russians?” Max raised her brows.

“Some of them.” Erica answered.

“What are you talking about?” Lucas asked.

“Didn’t you hear our code red?” Dustin looked to him.

“Yeah,” Mike spoke up. “I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”

“Goddamn low battery!”

Steve sighed exasperatedly. “How many times do I have to tell you with the low battery?”

“Well, everything worked out, didn’t it?”

“Worked out?” Erica turned to him. “We almost died.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t, did we?”

Doc let out a sharp exhale and waved her hands about. “Okay, wait. So, the Russians are the ones opening the gate? How?”

“Okay, so, they have this massive machine…”

His words drifted off in her ears, her senses picking up on a nearby presence. She shuddered and turned her body in search of it. When she did, she saw El standing a little ways away from the group, slowly limping forward.

“El?”

Doc’s call was muffled, the droning noise in El’s ears too powerful for her to make out any of the voices around her. She looked a mess, dark circles decorating the underside of her eyes and she was leaking blood from both her nostrils. As the droning grew louder, she quietly groaned and reached her hands up to her ears to block it out, but it only isolated it.

Doc rushed up to her just as she fell to the floor. “El!” She cried out, everyone following as Doc slowly turned her to lay on her back. “El?”

“What’s wrong with her?” Erica asked as she and Mike knelt down on her other side.

“El, hey, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

“My leg,” El groaned. “My leg.”

Suspicions rising, Doc hovered her hand over where El’s leg was, her entire hand painted in black veins. “I knew it.” She whispered and slowly lifted her pant leg to reveal her blood-soaked bandages. Jonathan and Nancy made quick work of peeling off the bandages. When it was exposed, everyone groaned in disgust at its worsened state. It didn’t make sense, they had disinfected the wound. But now, it had darkened and looked to be horribly infected, black veins growing from the wound.

“I know what this is.” Doc voiced.

“What? What is it?” Mike questioned.

Before she could answer, something began moving in her shin, under her skin. Everyone gasped in horror as El grunted in pain. Doc slowly hovered her hand over the wound again, the creature within quickly moving away, causing El to wail out. Mike quickly turned to her.

“El! El!”

When the creature jerked away again from Doc’s hand, El wailed again. “Shit.” Doc whispered.

“El! El, are you okay?!” Mike panicked, but she wasn’t answering. Everyone looked around at each other, completely clueless as to what to do. “El! El! El!”

The creature moved again, causing El to throw her head back and let out a scream of agony.

—————————————

Taglist: @yurtletheturtlehenderson @alexa-j-f @inthemourninglight @that-one-multifandom-chick @ariyabella @lonelywitchv2 @frogserotonin @mymomsdisappointment @hewwofriends @billieissad @get0ut0fmyr00m @143kae @satsuri3su @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived @unordinary-simp @raquel12 @roman0ffsheart @jjjennyxii @hereiamhereigo @wizardsgrace @meowiemari

[dreamerfound]

Fictober Day 3: Leverage - pushing boundaries

Prompt: “That was not my intention.” Title: pushing boundaries Fandom: Leverage Ship: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Mr. Quinn/Eliot Spencer Rating: Mature Warnings: explicit  conversation about sexual activity. Length: 1,211 words Summary: When Eliot stops returning his calls, Quinn decides to take matters into his own hands. Of course, Parker and Hardison have to get involved too.

Quinn leaned against the bookshelf and struck a casual pose even though he was almost positive that Eliot already knew he was there. Eliot turned around and scowled. "How did you get in here?"

He looked tired. Quinn wondered about how much sleep Eliot was getting lately. He tended to burn the candle at both ends a bit more than Quinn liked.

"What, you think I just hit stuff? You of all people should know better than that."

"I didn't mean you picking the lock," Eliot growled.

"Did you mean, what am I doing here when you've been very purposefully avoiding me for weeks." Not that Quinn had been hurt by it or anything. He'd just been worried, that was it.

"I haven't been avoiding you, I just haven't seen you."

"And you haven't picked up any of my calls either."

"I've been busy, doesn't mean you can go breaking into my place, man."

"And you haven't called me back." Quinn pushed away from the wall and took a step closer to Eliot. "I was worried. I thought something might have happened to you."

Eliot studied him for a moment, and nodded, seemingly satisfied with what he saw. "That was not my intention." Eliot raked his fingers through his hair roughly.

"Which part? The not returning my phone calls or the part where you were ducking them, to begin with?" Okay, maybe Quinn was feeling a little hurt.

"That's not what I was doing?" Eliot sputtered.

"Really? So it's been my imagination that you've been avoiding me ever since we sucked each other's cocks."

"Shhh..." Eliot whipped his head around like he was making sure no one was around to hear.

"What, you afraid your teammates are gonna find out? Is that what the problem is? Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"No," Eliot scoffed.

"Then, what is it?"

"It's complicated."

Quinn sighed. "Yeah, okay." He turned around. "It always is, isn't it?" He started walking. He didn't know what the hell he thought coming here was going to accomplish.

"Quinn, wait."

Quinn stopped and turned around.

"Come on, let me make you lunch while I try to explain it."

He sat down at the table and watched as Eliot sliced chicken into thin slices, doused it in some sort of marinade concoction he threw together, and then tossed it in the fridge. Quinn liked watching Eliot cook. He'd only had the pleasure once before and that time had been a quick grilled cheese. This was a treat. The way Eliot's hand gently gripped the knife, the ease of the way he did everything without even cracking open a cookbook. It was so enthralling it took him several minutes to realize Eliot was stalling. "Thought you were going to explain everything while you cooked," Quinn pointed out.

"Gimme a few minutes here to get everything started. I still have the tortillas to make."

Tortillas to make? Who the hell made tortillas from scratch on a whim? Eliot Spencer, apparently. Quinn watched and waited. Finally, Eliot got to the point in the food preparations that he felt able to have a conversation. "The thing is, me and Parker and Hardison, we're more than just a team."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a family. You've told me this before." Quinn had always thought the closeness of team Leverage was a little odd, but who was he to judge? It seemed to work for them alright.

Eliot looked down at the counter. "Yeah, no. We're a little more than that."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You mean y'all knock boots together?"

Eliot looked up, crossed his arms, and nodded. As if he was daring Quinn to make something of it.

"All three of you?" Quinn asked for clarification.

"Yeah all three of us, you got a problem with that?" Eliot's voice was rough and tinged with anger.

Quinn put his hands up. "Whoa, no need to be defensive. I'm just trying to get a clear view of the matter, is all."

"Sorry, it's-" Eliot shook his head, words failing him.

"It's complicated, I get it. So, are you saying that when you and I -- you know.." Quinn rubbed his chin. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and have Eliot putting his fist in his face. "That you were cheating?"

"Nah, that's not it." Eliot turned around and got a cast iron skillet out of the cabinet. "You're kinda my free pass."

"I'm you're what?"

Eliot shrugged. "My free pass. Alec and Parker knew I was interested in you, there was a conversation, and they said they were cool with us starting something or whatever."

Quinn grinned. "You had a conversation about the possibility of hooking up with me?"

"Shut up."

"Then why ghost me?"

"I was supposed to let them know if something happened between us and I hadn't gotten around to it yet." Eliot started rolling out the tortillas and Quinn let the conversation lull. By the time Eliot had the chicken and peppers cooking, they were no longer alone.

Parker punched Quinn on the arm in what he was sure she meant in an affectionate manner but was hard enough to hurt either way. "Hey Quinn, did Eliot finally stop ignoring you?"

"No ma'am, he did not. I had to break in here to get his attention."

Parker's eyes went wide. "You broke in?"

"No, he did not." Hardison planted a kiss on the top of Parker's head and sat down at the table. "He was making such a fool out of himself that I took pity on him and unlocked the door remotely to speed this whole thing along."

Well, that explained why it was so easy to get into this place. Apparently, he'd been invited.

"Move what whole thing along?" Eliot set a plate of tortillas in the center of the table, Parker jumped up to get the plates, and Hardison stayed right where he was sitting as Eliot set the table up with the chicken, and all sorts of little accompaniments to wrap up in the tortillas. It looked and smelled delicious.

"The conversation," Parker said.

"You know, the one where you tell us about your little thing with Quinn and where it's going," Hardison said.

Uh-oh. Had he walked into some sort of trap? He turned to Eliot but he looked just about as freaked out as Quinn felt.

"Can't we just share a meal together in peace?" Eliot sat down and grabbed a plate.

Hardison turned to Eliot. "Do you like him?"

Eliot growled. He actually fucking growled.

"Do you like him? Yes or no?" Hardison repeated himself.

"Yeah, yeah. I like him." Eliot didn't look exactly happy about it.

"Okay, good." Hardison turned his attention to Quinn. "Do you like Eliot?"

Quinn leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Yeah, he's not so bad."

Parker clapped her hands. "Yay!"

Eliot shook his head. "Now can we eat?"

"Yeah, we can eat. Just don't go thinking this here's the end of the conversation," Hardison said.

Eliot shook his head and Quinn smiled. He had a feeling getting involved with Eliot Spencer was going to be a bit more complicated than he'd first thought. He welcomed the challenge though. Especially if it came with more meals like this.

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm's Length Chapter 22

Real men talk about their feelings. This took some time because I wanted to get the dialogue right, and I'm happy with it! FF.net, AO3

Chapter 22: To Stand Again

“Hadome!” The outcry was stopped short, as Yahiko buckled under the offensive strike, forced to retreat. “Tch, damn!”

“Language.” Koshijiro gently admonished. He pressed the shinai further, glancing across the boy’s shoulder. “This attempt was better, but what went wrong this time?”

“I didn’t have enough support for my hands. It’s my core, isn’t it?”

“Yes, correct. You can increase your exercises by twenty repetitions.”

“Fifty more!” He was certainly ambitious.

“As long as you don’t injure yourself.”

“Fine. I’m still not there yet.”

“But in just one hour, your reaction time has cut in half. Keep practicing after you come back.” The boy had offered to help Tae and Tsubame, with purchasing supplies. From what he said, Tae had turned to work, setting up in a temporary location while paying for the Akabeko’s rebuilding.

They tidied up the dojo, before sitting outside to cool off. Yahiko gulped his barley tea, and in that quiet moment, he spoke unprompted. “I get it now.”

“Hm?”

“Well…I’ve been taught by Kaoru, then Kenshin, and now you. And I get the differences.” He seemed slightly embarrassed but explained. “You ask me what I want to accomplish first, and if I need to do something else instead. During practice, you ask me where the issue is, and once I figure it out, we fix it. Kaoru does that too, she leads me to the goal and she encourages me a lot. Kenshin is the quietest, but he always gets to the point and it feels rewarding when he approves. Everyone teaches differently.”

“That’s right, and you’ll find your own way of instruction, when the time comes. Emulate what you admire, and don’t be afraid to adjust your methods. Teaching is a matter of approach.”

“And it depends on the student too.”

“Indeed. You have to know what works for the student and what doesn’t.”

“So, could you tell what works for me?”

Koshijiro paused, considering. “Your judgment already surpasses older boys, because you’ve seen battles of high intensity and caliber. With such a quick grasp, you understand how to improve, and I’m glad Kaoru’s given you the opportunity to reflect and analyze. You’ve spent a relatively short time in the dojo, so you respond well to clear instructions. And of course, well-deserved praise. I think it is the right balance.”

Yahiko smiled. “Was that how you taught Kaoru?”

“I would say so. She appreciated the history of kenjutsu, and I would weave it into teaching points. Kaoru has an excellent intuition and unlike most, she could give it the right words. Even when she was a little girl, she would tell me what she wanted to focus on in practice.” He thought of her smaller form, cheeks puffed out as she declared her newest aspiration. The memory was sweet, ruined by the present anxiety, a dark cloud on the horizon.

The conversation had to end there, given the time. However, Yahiko stalled at the gate. “Kamiya-san? Is there anything else I can do here?”

“No, it’s alright. You can go into town. Takani-san must have finished her examination, and I’ll take over in her stead.”

“Misao and Aoshi are still out, huh? How long does it take to plan a boat trip anyway?”

Actually, Makimachi had confided that they were going to train. She was looking particularly enthusiastic, while Shinomori was stoic as ever. “They’re doing a thorough job, and we’ll trust in them. I’ll see you later, Yahiko.” With one last wave to each other, Koshijiro closed the gate.

He went to Himura’s door, and Takani quickly emerged. The dark circles under her eyes were fainter, but she was still taut as a bowstring. “I’m running late!” The number of clinic patients had increased, not just from the attacks, but also the change in weather.

“Dr. Gensai will understand.”

“I’ve always been punctual, it’ll hurt my pride otherwise. Now, there’s tea and broth that can be reheated for Ken-san if he feels like drinking again. It’ll sustain him but if he doesn’t eat, I’ll have to resort to drastic measures.” She frowned.

“As always, thank you for your hard work.”

“I’ll be back in the afternoon.” With that brisk promise, she was off.

And Koshijiro entered Himura’s room.

His position had not changed: sitting against the wall, the chained reverse blade clutched tightly in his hands. Koshijiro sat across from him, watching for any movement. Again, his eyes were resigned and lifeless.

Koshijiro cleared his throat. “The weather is nice today. If you don’t mind, I’ll open the window.” The fresh air swept in, and he realized how stagnant it had been in this room. But if he was going to talk to Himura, they could not be in darkness.

He glanced at the other man, who had turned his face away from the sunshine pouring in. The abundance of red hair had fallen like a curtain.

“I will close it afterwards, but if you are cold, please let me know.” He didn’t expect a response, but then, a single word floated up.

“Why?”

“You asked me that last time, but I’m not sure how to answer. Are you able to tell me more?” Koshijiro kept his voice low, neutral, without judgment.

An exhale. “Why are you not angry with this one?”

“Angry?” He was genuinely surprised. “No, Himura-san, not at all. You fought hard to protect Kaoru.”

“Not enough. This one couldn’t.” Himura retreated further, curling into a ball.

Koshijiro remained quiet for a few moments before continuing. “And you are lost within yourself.”

Chain links rattled and the red curtain shifted. Himura was looking right at him, in startled affirmation.

He pressed on. “You are a swordsman, defined by your abilities and successes. That was unfortunately amplified by the war; your superiors in the Ishin Shishi were enraptured by your skills, at the cost of overlooking the man behind them. But I’m not going to analyze the fight. I am here to find you.”

Himura took a shaky breath, blinking against the light. “As Hitokiri Battousai, this one committed countless murders. This one has tried to atone, and it is not enough. Whatever is left of this one is unworthy.”

“That is not true.” Koshijiro severely said, but Himura’s gaze had already drifted into vacancy. His sense of shame ran deep, entangled in his spirit. In this precarious state, it was too dangerous to push him.

It was excruciatingly silent until Makimachi and Shinomori returned. He let them take over, while he headed into town. He initially intended to speak to Saito, but he was informed by the front that the man was caught in administrative meetings for the day, saddled with acting chief inspector responsibilities.

He walked towards the office, expecting a mountain of paperwork on his desk. However, when he entered the room, his space was free of clutter. Instead, the rookies were barely visible under a heavier than usual workload. Shinichi spotted him first, dropping his pen as he hastily stood. The others followed suit, greeting in a staggered chorus.

“Officer Kamiya!”

“Hello, everyone.”

“You’re not back yet, are you?”

“It’s too soon!”

He hesitated. “I was…running an errand. What have you been assigned?” He approached the nearest desk and read his name on the first stack. “These are mine?”

“We asked for them!”

“You don’t have to worry at all, alright?”

“Take it easy, Officer Kamiya!”

Their kindness touched him. “Thank you. I hope not to inconvenience you for much longer.” When this was over, he would have to treat them heartily.

And at the last minute, he decided to carry out another task. Gritting his teeth, Koshijiro began writing on a fresh sheet of paper. He certainly was not begging Hiko, and he doubted he’d even receive an answer. It was only a brief message that Himura was injured, which was the truth. But after the envelope slipped into the mailbox, he felt a twinge of uncertainty.

Most likely, the letter will not be read in time.

That evening, Himura did finish a bowl of broth, which was a small victory. Despite his anguish, he wasn’t actively giving up. They held onto that knowledge, as they reviewed the plan just outside his room. Takani was already prepared, her stock of medical supplies fully replenished. Meanwhile, Shinomori and Makimachi provided their updates.

From her pocket, the Oniwaban leader brought out a list with a flourish. “Here we go! This is the remainder of our inventory, including fuel and food rations. Everything’s been tucked away in the Heishin Products Company basement.”

“Wasn’t it there to begin with?” Yahiko pointed out.

“Well, the police confiscated most of the goods but we deserve some compensation, right? And I’m still waiting for my new kunai, Jiiya’s sending them from Kyoto. They’re a different alloy, so they’ll pierce better…” She trailed off. “Oh, sorry! Basically, we’re covered as soon as we have a destination!”

Shinomori shook his head. “And we have not determined that yet.”

It was to be expected, it had only been a day since they obtained their lead. But Koshijiro was impatient. He let out a breath. “Then, I will have to ask the assistant chief inspector.”

The timing couldn’t have been better, because there was a call from outside. “It’s Saito. Open up.”

Takani volunteered, though she returned with an additional guest in tow. She seemed much more at ease around the presence of Tokio. “Thank you for the mochi, we’ll enjoy them. There’s leftover tea for both of you.”

“It’s kind of you to offer, but we won’t be long.” Tokio answered, as Saito grunted and took a seat in their circle. His gaze flickered to the closed door but he didn’t acknowledge it otherwise.

“I’ll make this quick. First, we’ve narrowed our search to the southern waters. There are a few small islands, mainly uninhabited, that look promising. We will continue to gather intel.”

“Let us help you.” Shinomori uttered, and Makimachi jumped in as well.

“Please! Espionage and subterfuge are our specialties.”

“Give us the morning, to tie up any loose ends. Then, you can offer your services.” He bluntly said, turning once more to Koshijiro. “Meanwhile, your naval friend is assembling his own team, and they will arrive at the end of the week, with two armed ships. Congratulations, Kamiya.” Despite the monotonous delivery, the news was welcome.

“Hayashi is a good friend, and I look forward to seeing him.”

Saito curtly nodded. “Second, Tokio can watch your home while you’re gone.”

“Thank you.” Koshijiro said, surprised.

“It’s no trouble.” Tokio gave a gracious smile. “In fact, it’s the least I can do. The boys will have to come with me, but we won’t leave any trace that we were here.”

“And lastly,” The third matter had to be unpleasant, because Saito spat the words. “I had to negotiate terms with Shanghai. They will increase security and naval patrols…but if Yukishiro turns up at their port or is found on Chinese land, they’ll keep him and turn over all other non-Chinese companions to us. If he’s arrested in Japan, they can pursue extradition after we try him in our court.”

It sounded perfectly acceptable to Koshijiro, though Saito appeared livid at the possibility that Yukishiro could be swiped away from the end of his katana. Well, he wouldn’t protest; it would be motivating. “So, we’ll devote everything we have to their location.”

“With absolute swiftness.” The assistant chief inspector declared, and he led his wife to the front door. “When I give notice, all of you have to be prepared to fight.”

The emphasis wasn’t lost on them, nor the final glance to the unseen Himura.

Yahiko straightened up. “We will. For sure.”

They turned in for the night, and Koshijiro stared at his ceiling in deep thought. Today’s attempt had not been successful, and there was no room for further missteps. Tomorrow, the discussion would have to lay everything bare. His thoughts folded and refolded, as he considered Himura. Not the assassin, not the wanderer. The man himself.

Just before falling asleep, he knew. In order to learn, there first had to be a solid foundation. And Koshijiro was a teacher.

***

At dawn, he woke on his own and he felt tranquility settle over him like an outer robe. Not wanting to wake anyone else, he quietly made his way to Himura’s room. Shinomori was sitting just inside, head lowered, though he did start when Koshijiro loomed over him. Then, he nodded towards the sleeping form of Himura, back still against the wall. After a moment, he wordlessly left, leaving the two of them alone. Koshijiro drew closer, taking the position directly across Himura.

He sat in meditation, for close to an hour, before Himura finally stirred. His shoulders lifted a fraction, and through his bangs, his eyes slowly opened.

“Good morning.” Koshijiro greeted. “Would you like tea? I can make some.”

A verbal response never came, though in a very slight motion, he shook his head.

“That’s alright. Let me know if you change your mind. It’s a new day.” He stood and opened the window, allowing crisp air to flow in. “And so, we will start over.”

“…how?” Ah, so his interest was piqued.

Koshijiro steeled himself; this was the point of no return, he would have to choose every word carefully. “Himura-san, until now, you’ve been motivated by guilt and shame. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t feel a sense of remorse, but in excess, it consumes you. I know.” He said, his voice raw. “I understand. So, believe me when I say that it cannot be everything you feel. You’ve stayed with us for months. Was it only because of guilt?”

“No!” Himura vehemently answered. It was the strongest response he had since Kaoru was kidnapped. A good sign.

“Then, what have you felt? You can start from the beginning, when you first met Kaoru.”

For a long while, Himura did not speak. And then, he haltingly said. “It was...the end of winter. This one wandered to Tokyo. A chilly evening. In the darkness, this one heard a voice. Kaoru-dono, calling the name of Battousai. A coincidence, she did not know at the time. She was defending Kamiya Kasshin’s reputation. It was the Hiruma brothers, and you know that part of the story, Kamiya-dono.”

“Yes, I do.”

“This one...was very grateful to Kaoru-dono. And touched by her words, her devotion to Kamiya Kasshin and the ideal of a world where swords were not used to kill. This one thought it wouldn’t be bad, to stay for a while. To watch her regain students, to build that better world. And you returned the following week.”

“I apologize again for trying to punch you.”

Himura didn’t smile or laugh, but there was a flicker of light in his gaze, a spark amidst the emptiness. “It was this one’s fault too, for not being clear. Still, this one felt...comfortable. Useful, to cook meals and do laundry and clean the house. Kaoru-dono was always kind, talking about the day and the townsfolk. Who to buy groceries from, who was friendly. And with you, she was much happier. This one can tell you are close.” He paused. “Then, we met Yahiko.”

“That’s right. I understand that you convinced him to learn Kamiya Kasshin. I admit, I wasn’t so sure of him at first. But he’s become more mature and disciplined, a good student. What did you see in him? How did you meet?”

“He stole this one’s wallet. But…this one knew right away, he had the potential of a swordsman. This one went to help him from the yakuza, so he could become a student of the Kamiya dojo. And he has become much stronger, in body and spirit.”

“He has and I’m glad you brought him here. He is vastly different from the wayward pickpocket, and his future is brighter, now that he understands the weight and responsibility of the sword that protects.” Koshijiro then prompted. “He wasn’t the only young man who’s changed.”

“Sanosuke. His first wish was to fight this one, as a representative of the Sekihoutai. Since that day, his boldness has not wavered at all. But instead of thirst for battle, he raises his fists for the group. He is a loyal friend.”

Hopefully, Sagara was faring well. Was he out of trouble at least? Had he reunited with his family? “Yes, he certainly is. Impatient, perhaps, but in the hour of need, he will never abandon the ones he cares for.” He had just finished the sentence, when the door suddenly opened.

Takani’s eyes were round with astonishment at the two of them, the tray in her hands shaking slightly. “I heard voices and I thought…never mind, both of you can keep going. It’s obvious you’re not finished yet. But you have to eat something! Raid the kitchen if you don’t want mochi and tea, the house is all yours for today.” Immediately, she set down the breakfast and as she hurried out, she looked to Koshijiro. Her gaze was misty in gratitude, and she mouthed a thank you. She closed the door with a rattle, and faintly, Koshijiro thought he heard Makimachi’s questioning voice and Takani’s brisk response, before silence returned again.

“That was surprisingly good timing.” He poured the tea and slid a cup to Himura. “She must be headed for the clinic. Takani-san is becoming an excellent doctor; Dr. Gensai never fails to tell me how much she’s progressed.”

“It is her way to atone.” Himura softly said. “To use her skills to heal others instead of leading them to the grave.”

Koshijiro sensed they were treading too close to the dark precipice again and he hastily moved on. “It wasn’t long after that, the Maekawa dojo incident occurred. I remember you offered to accept the challenge instead, and how you defeated Raijuuta for Yutaro’s sake.”

“It was all this one could do.” He deflected, but his eyes met Koshijiro’s. “Kaoru-dono has embraced the role of head instructor.”

“She has, and I’m incredibly proud of her.” And he was anxious for her to be safe, without a single lasting injury. The idea of her in danger was gnawing at him; he quickly pivoted to their discussion. “What happened afterwards…? Ah, then we met Sagara-san’s friend. I’m not sure whether he enjoyed our get-together at the dojo.”

“He was intending to bomb the Department of Internal Affairs.”

That was news to Koshijiro. “I didn’t know about this.” He took one of the mochi, biting into it. The slight sweetness filled his mouth and he carefully pushed the tray closer to Himura.

“This one did not want to wake anyone else, but Sanosuke and Tsunan were already leaving. The latter still held a grudge against the Meiji government, and Sanosuke helped in stopping him.” Himura quietly explained. “So, no harm occurred.”

“Thank you. You protected the city’s peace.” He did vaguely recall a rumor about a break-in, that had paled in comparison to the ensuing events. “I believe Saito-san appeared not long after.”

Himura slowly nodded. “To recruit this one.”

“However, you didn’t want to break your vow.”

“…no. But this one did not know how to decline. As a hitokiri, and then on the front lines, this one followed orders without protest. But…with everyone’s support, this one felt like he could refuse. Until the late minister was killed.”

“And so, you changed your mind.”

“This one could not stand by, to allow Shishio to bring destruction and death.”

“I agree. It would not be like you at all. That was why none of us were surprised. We were sad for you, but we understood.” Koshijiro’s ears burned at the confession. Was that right to say? Yes, sad had to be the appropriate label for how they felt, how he felt at the time.

“In Kyoto, this one…did not expect to see Kaoru-dono and Yahiko.”

“Yes, they followed you.” There was another unbearably long pause. And Koshijiro grasped for a thought. “Because we care for you and worry about you.” It was embarrassing, but he had to keep going. “You were doing the right thing, to stop Shishio, but we would never let you succumb into the depths. To remind you of who you are, the man who belonged at the Kamiya dojo.”

“Belonged?” Himura repeated, his eyes questioning.

“You still do.” Koshijiro gruffly said. “It was not the same without you. Emptier, colder, without your presence. While I was watching the house, there were inquiries about where you’d gone and where Kaoru and Yahiko were. As for myself, I had to clean the shed as a distraction from loneliness. I was very glad when I finally received the telegram of your victory.”

With so much talking, his mouth was dry. He gulped down the lukewarm tea, trying to dampen the flush of discomfort. If he had his handkerchief, he’d wipe his forehead. Talking about his feelings was not his strength. Absolutely not. But for Himura, who needed to find himself again, this was necessary. It was the most important thing right now.

“You did visit every week. It must have been tiring to travel.”

“I was only tired when I returned to the empty house. Otherwise, seeing everyone and observing your progress made the frequent trips worth it.”

“Kyoto holds many memories.” Then, without prompting, Himura said. “But the exercises, the training, the rebuilding and the festival…those are what this one wants to remember about the city.”

Koshijiro carefully looked at him. Perhaps, the darkness had receded a touch, but he was not free of it yet. A little further, as if he was turning, at the base of a long set of steps. Koshijiro offered his hand, fingers splayed, and caught the flicker of Himura’s upward gaze. Better. “And when we were home, your true desire was granted. Kaoru welcomed you, just like this.”

“She did.” His voice was barely a whisper. “And it was peaceful again, until Enishi arrived. This one did not mean to hide the past, but it was painful to share.”

He quickly emphasized. “None of us blame you. We were only worried about you. It is why we fought the other lackeys, and we were glad to lend our support to you.” They had reached the present, at the steepest obstacle; there was no point in reminding Himura of that horrendous night. Koshijiro hesitated, staring at the sakabato. “Now…you have locked up your sword. Why did you do that?”

“Because this one hasn’t found it yet. The answer…” He gripped the sakabato in fierce desperation. “What is the answer to atone for all of this one’s sins? The vow this one made…it was not enough…”

“And you’re right.” At this concession, he glanced up and Koshijiro explained. “You traveled all of Japan, with your oath to never kill again with the sword. But those words carried an assassin’s regret as well. Like the chains between your hands, that mindset shackled you to your past.”

“So, was this one wrong the whole time?”

Whether Himura was right or wrong, that was not for Koshijiro to decide. And perhaps, not even for humans to judge. But the answer was elsewhere entirely, at the top of the foundation they’d been building over the course of the morning. This was the true meaning of their discussion.

“When we first met, I was…blinded by my own assumptions and stubbornly stuck to them. And I only want what is best for Kaoru. But, I was misguided.” Koshijiro bowed his head. He wasn’t certain whether he was choosing the right words, and it was painfully difficult. Here in this moment, he was going to be completely honest. “I understand what she saw in you. You are a selfless man, who has been attentive to the needs of other people. You are always diligent and willing to lend your sword if a fight is unavoidable. You may feel mired in darkness, and yet, with every action over these months, your heart has never wavered. So, what is your answer? It is a new vow.”

“A new…vow.” Himura echoed. The sun had moved with the day’s passing, and the light cast over his face. His hair and eyes shone brighter; had the spark lit anew?

“We have talked for a long time and I already know what it is, but I’m not going to tell you.” At Himura’s confused expression, he clarified. “This is something you need to realize for yourself, to form in your own words. The reason, that Himura Kenshin should live for. Again and again through the memories we have gone over, you have demonstrated it. All you need to do is speak it.”

And with that, Koshijiro brushed himself off and stood. “The tea is cold and it’s nearly time for lunch. I’m going to the kitchen so I’ll be right back.” It was best that Himura have a moment to think anyway, and he wasn’t concerned that the man would try to disappear again.

As for himself, he felt as if he’d undergone a purification ceremony. Exhausted, but with a sense of inner resolve. A satisfying and clean feeling. He had to smile wryly at that.

***

However, as soon as he approached the stove, there was a call from the gate. He hurried outside, and almost bumped into the smaller figure racing across the front yard. Yahiko was trying to catch his breath, the hilts of two shinai peeking over his shoulder, and he grasped Koshijiro’s arm.

“Kamiya-san, come help!” He urged. “There’s trouble in town!”

“Then, lead the way.”

His gaze darted towards the house. “And Kenshin?”

“He’s better but not ready yet. You can explain everything to me.”

The boy began to run and Koshijiro increased his pace as well, as the words spilled. “I was with Tsubame, we were buying stuff for their new place. We were talking because she seemed down and…well, anyway, I was coming back here when I heard the Armstrong cannon!”

It had to be Kujiranami. “He must have broken out of his cell.”

“Yeah, and we need to stop him! I grabbed my shinai and one for you.”

“Thank you, Yahiko. What about the others? Shinomori-san, Makimachi-san?”

Yahiko shook his head. “After breakfast, Misao said they were going to join up with Saito’s team. They think they’ve found a specific island.”

Koshijiro’s heart jumped. “Really? Where? Which one?”

“I don’t know. She was already sprinting off and of course, Aoshi was totally silent.”

“No, it’s fine. I should have expected as much.” Still, he hoped the lead would be fruitful.

“Um…there’s something else. I told Tsubame. Kind of.” He puffed, more exertion than anything. “Like, I said we’d all be together again soon. I know we weren’t supposed to reveal the truth until this is over but she really looked sad, and I wanted to cheer her up.” His expression was guilty, but Koshijiro only gave a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. The secret is making us all feel guilty, and the intention was never to distress anyone. But we are close to our goal and I will bear responsibility later. For now, let’s focus on neutralizing the threat.”

At this point, they were a few blocks away from the station. However, smoke was billowing in its direction and the bells for the fire brigade were clanging. And then, there was a familiar explosive boom. It was the middle of the day, and people were confused. Some were standing still, others hastily retreating into their homes. No one was moving fast enough.

The scream of his name drew Koshijiro’s attention, and he locked eyes with Shinichi, who was urgently waving. Koshijiro beckoned him off the main road. Yahiko quietly passed over the shinai, while the young man delivered the report in gasps.

“The cannon-armed guy! He’s escaped!” Shinichi rambled, eyes wild. “The chief hasn’t recovered and the assistant chief had to leave on urgent business. The station’s blown up. A few units have gone to the army and headquarters, but it’ll be another hour before they get here. We don’t have a chain of command, everyone’s going to die-”

“Officer Shinichi, take deep breaths.” He laid his hand upon the young man’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. Now, when your mind is calm, you can think clearly.”

“Y-yes. I’m sorry, it’s just that this situation is terrible…we need to evacuate the civilians!”

“Agreed. Who’s here?”

“Our unit is on this street, but I don’t know about anyone else.”

“That will be enough.” Koshijiro glanced over the rooftops. A distant crash made him grimace, and he said. “Time is short. We’ll have to act fast, so gather the others.”

At Shinichi’s whistle, the remaining fourteen arrived within the minute. Their identical expressions were of nervousness and concern. Koshijiro split them into groups of three. “Kujiranami is a dangerous individual, not only because of his strength and weapon, but in his rage, he will not hold himself back. He has no targets in mind, so he will indiscriminately point the cannon anywhere. Our priority is evacuation! Fujisawa, Ikehira, Kato: the north. Maeda, Yoshihara, Abe: the west. Kobayashi, Tanaka, Shimizu: the east. Aoki, Tomita, Eguchi: the south. And for Shinichi, Nakamura, and Hoshi: fortify the end of the street. Gather any materials, recruit volunteers. Kujiranami will not go further than here.”

“That’s right!” Yahiko declared. “Kamiya-san and I will stop him! We can use the buildings as cover. We know the area, and together, we can flank him! We’ve got tactics!”

“…Huh?” The officers were taken aback.

“Yahiko’s right. We may not have artillery or manpower, but we have our wits and skill. Most importantly, we have our composure. And…it’s only fitting.” Koshijiro gripped his shinai. “A one-armed opponent for a one-armed criminal.”

“Kamiya-san…”

“Damn, that was good.”

“I’d give my life today, I’m not afraid anymore!”

“No one’s going to die today!” Yahiko admonished them. He tipped his chin to the bright blue sky and roared. “Let’s go!”

Everyone couldn’t help crying out, and then, they separated. People quickly filed out of the vicinity, thanks to the confident directions of the officers. Yahiko scrambled up to a rooftop for a vantage point, though Koshijiro repeatedly told him to be careful. “If he sees you, come down immediately.”

“Got it. He’s still headed this way, they’re trying to shoot at him, but he isn’t affected at all. His cannon looks a little different. Did he always have a bayonet attached to it?”

“That doesn’t sound like the same weapon he was arrested with.”

“How’d he get something like that?”

Koshijiro internally cursed. “It must have been from the prison. I remember when I had my inspection; there’s a room with military grade weapons meant to suppress riots, per the chief jailer’s proud request. Knowing Yukishiro, he must have designed the metal arm to be compatible with other machinery.”

“Yahiko-kun!” They turned instinctively, finding Tsubame standing by the barricade of crates and planks. She must have returned. Her uncertain voice floated towards them. “You’re fighting?”

“I have to. This is what I’ve decided, to protect people with Kamiya Kasshin. So, don’t cry. Like I said earlier, we’re all going to see each other again.”

She stared for a moment, her face crestfallen before she clasped her hands together. “Then…I’m going to the Kamiya dojo! I will find Kenshin-san and tell him everything so he can help!”

“Thanks, Tsubame! Please talk to him!”

“Y-yes! I will!” Her eyes were fearful, but her head was held high as she ran.

“She’s become stronger as well.” Koshijiro noted.

“I believe in her. Kenshin too.” Yahiko grinned at him. “And of course, the both of us.”

Then, the clamor intensified, and the next explosion was much closer. The interval between blasts was shorter than previously, though not as strong. And then, a shadow appeared. Outlined by the glow of flames, he was seething, each step thunderous. If they failed, Kujiranami would rampage throughout the city, unchecked in his destruction.

Koshijiro stood in the middle of the street, lifting the shinai in a neutral position. He inhaled, filling his lungs, and shouted. The kiai was like crackling energy from his head to his feet, and he lowered his stance, connecting to the immovable earth.

Now, he could see the new cannon-arm. Above the bayonet, the barrel was smaller, more suitable for the chain of ammunition draped over Kujiranami’s torso. Grenades. That explained the changes in reload time and force. “He’s firing grenades. These attacks will be faster and more numerous.” He explained to Yahiko.

“We gotta charge him.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I’ll take the right, Kamiya-san.” The side with the weapon.

“Yahiko-”

“You’re still recovering and I’m a smaller target. I’ll be okay!”

There was no time to protest, because the man was picking up speed. Silently, he trusted Yahiko as they closed the distance. Swerving around, he aimed for the back of Kujiranami’s head. The blow reverberated through Koshijiro’s arm, but other than a pained grunt, Kujiranami shrugged it off. He swung the cannon and there was a glimpse of dark hair whirling away. Yahiko was barely dodging, but he was holding his own. A rivulet of blood trickled from the seam where metal attached to skin.

The hiss was the only warning, and Koshijiro crossed the nearest threshold, taking cover as a grenade exploded in the street. With the amount of ammunition Kujiranami bore, there was no possibility of wasting all his shots. But if the cannon was stuck, where the grenades fed into the barrel…that would eliminate the immediate danger.

“Battousai!” Kujiranami was still fixated on Himura.

Koshijiro rushed out, but the man didn’t seem to register his presence, continuing to trudge forward. Yahiko emerged as well, saying. “We both landed hits, but he doesn’t seem affected at all.”

“What we should target is the loading mechanism of the cannon. There.” Koshijiro pointed the end of his shinai to Kujiranami’s upper arm. Since they were behind him, they could see where the grenades inserted into the underside of the weapon. “I can provide a distraction. Yahiko, can you find a way to jam the cannon?”

“I can do it! I already have an idea.” He nodded confidently.

“Good. I believe in you as well.” Then, after ensuring Yahiko had hidden in a nearby building, Koshijiro called out. “Kujiranami! You will never fight Hitokiri Battousai again!”

Fortunately, this caught his attention. He turned slowly, his face distorted in a sneer. “What?”

“The assassin died with the old era. You are clinging to the past, not even to a ghost, but to the time when your arm was cut off.”

“By Battousai!”

“Because he did not want to take your life! For ten years, you have drowned in resentment and misery, for the sole reason that you were not given a warrior’s death. You unfairly blame Himura-san, and you are wrong.”

Kujiranami snarled, approaching closer. “How would you understand? You lost your left, not even your dominant hand!”

Koshijiro bellowed. “But you’re not the only one who lost something and you’re certainly not the only person who’s ever suffered! Tell me, what have you done, other than cause more suffering?!”

The cannon-arm violently swung, and he was forced to retreat. He ducked, the grenade firing into the rooftop overhead. Dust, splinters, and heat washed over him. With the shinai, he charged once more. This time, he made it obvious, and as expected, he was parried by the metal barrel. The bayonet was now below Koshijiro’s hand, aiming directly at his heart. Only the length of his arm was keeping Kujiranami at bay.

The other man’s expression had become impassive. He seemed less like a raging beast, more human. Was he regaining his sanity? “Why aren’t you bitter? You were a samurai once, weren’t you?”

“Those days are over, and even so, I am not bitter because I know pride is nothing without honor. Do you truly believe you’ve acted as honorably as a samurai should? If you are able to see what you’ve done, you can stop yourself.”

Something in his expression gave, but that hope was short-lived. “…I can’t. Never. This is what I have left of my strength!” The cannon lowered, and Koshijiro’s knees bent further. The bayonet slid, and sharp agony welled at his chest. But he couldn’t disengage.

“Hadome!” A cry resounded, and Yahiko’s short spiky hair appeared. The backs of his hands were catching the bayonet’s base, preventing advancement. His core was strong. Every word was a struggle, yet brimming with willpower. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else! Protecting people with the sword…that’s my strength. That’s how I want to live in the new era. Just like my friends! Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu: Hawatari!”

And then, he launched at Kujiranami and swung at his underarm. That was a weak spot for anyone, and the man recoiled. The bamboo had snapped with the amount of force, but that must have been the plan all along. The loading mechanism was perfectly lined up, and Yahiko inserted the broken hilt within. A harsh grinding noise followed.

“No! No!” Kujiranami howled. His other fist lashed out, knocking Koshijiro in the ribs. He was thrown aside, impacting the ground on his wounded shoulder. Stars of pain lit in his vision, as Kujiranami reached for Yahiko-

A flash of red descended from the sky. The blade shone on the opposite side of the sword, as nine attacks were unleashed in quick succession on Kujiranami. The three-point landing was unsteady, but Himura managed to right himself. In the daylight, he looked thinner and the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t fully receded. But he was here. He had found his reason to stand again.

Relief flooded Koshijiro.

Yahiko swayed on his feet. “Kenshin!”

But Kujiranami remained standing, and he attempted to fire, the grinding worse. With a hoarse shout, Himura soared into the air and struck again, this time at the seam. The cannon clanked, severed from its owner, and dropped uselessly in the dirt. Kujiranami stared at it, then the stump of his arm. Unwrapped, the skin was rubbed raw and irritated, not like a decade-old wound.

“For a second time, I’ve been defeated.” He uttered.

Himura replied. “Even if you wish it, this one will not kill you. You may not have your right hand, but you have a warrior’s fighting spirit. That is how you’ve endured the past ten years, a strength that will surpass any weapon. Please, turn yourself in and continue to live in peace.”

He bowed his head, but the tears on his face couldn’t be concealed. “You, and Kamiya, and…who is this boy?” He looked to where he was protectively standing over Koshijiro.

“I’m Myojin Yahiko, of the Myojin family! My father was a samurai.” Surely, Yahiko’s father would be proud at the burning fire in his son’s gaze.

“A worthy showdown then, and you all spoke honestly. Thank you…and I surrender.” At these words, the officers jumped in with handcuffs and chains. Kujiranami was docile, with one lingering glance at the cannon before it was confiscated. He nodded at Koshijiro, who responded in kind.

He had mustered the energy to sit, and he exhaled. “Welcome back, Himura-san.”

“Forgive this one, Kamiya-dono.” His voice still sounded weak, but he limped towards them. “This one was nearly too late.”

“It’s alright. Have you found what you were seeking?”

“Yes. And thank you.” Abruptly, his knee buckled and he fell to the ground but his fleeting smile was of relief. Koshijiro dragged his weary body next to him and Yahiko collapsed at his other side. They must have made quite a picture, laying on their backs together and though too tired to speak, they stayed in that little huddle.

A screech of braking wheels, and the slam of a door. Leaping over the barricade, Shinomori rushed towards them, with Saito and Makimachi in his wake. Medical bag in her grasp, Takani was squeezing through a gap, Tsubame closely at her heels. Ah, good. Everyone was accounted for…except one person. And they would see her very soon. Koshijiro closed his eyes, and the last thing he registered before exhaustion set in was the city’s budding applause.

[venturingvietnam2024]

#2 The storm before the calm.

Let’s be honest, after spending 2.5 hours moving through immigration (where the line I happened to queue within, out of the 16 available, then had two other queues merge into it) with 1000 other people in very little air conditioning, and then catching a taxi through a city of 15 million people with about 8 million motor bikes, by the time I arrived at the hostel, I was questioning what the hell I had got myself into! However, to be expecting a shared room with bunk beds and get a private double with ensuite was absolute bliss!

This morning, I was apprehensive. I don’t really know if solo travel is brave, naive or courageous.. I think the three hold little difference to be honest. But as an olive skinned, blonde haired human wearing a backpack in Ho Chi Minh City - there was no need to tattoo tourist to my forehead, it was obvious. And at least for me, it was nerve wracking to step out into a city I’d never been, with people who speak little English and a sensory overload you’re not quite used to. I’ll forever hold a gratitude that I do have a sense of direction and can generally find my bearings pretty well, that and the idea that no matter the internal worries I hold, I’m generally pretty able to just push on and see how things go. The first mission, was quite literally as simple as crossing the street. I determined that the strategy in a city with very intriguing road laws, is to just walking confidently like you know what you’re doing and cross as quick as you can, that or ghost a local who actually knows what their doing. 100% success rate so far. I wandered down to the Ben Thai Markets where the countless aisles of food, clothing and fashion stalls were present. To be honest, the conversion on the Vietnamese dong still has me. 200,000 dong is about $20, but having a note worth 1,000,000 dong just feels very strange! From here I had an authentic coffee, and went full tourist mode on an hop on hop off bus. It weaved its way through the streets to the financial district and I saw; the People’s Council, The City Hall, Post Office and Notre Damn. It was a beautiful area with grand buildings and wandering the area was great. I also had lunch at an apartment building of cafes.. it was very cool with pretty views too. After lunch, the confidence was building and I was starting to embrace the hustle and bustle of it all. Though in 36 degrees with the element of humidity, it was hot! Fortunately, I’ve learnt from the 2022 Greece sunburn saga, and I’ve been plenty SunSmart and consumed lots of water #goals. A little late arvo rest before I meet my tour group tonight and begin two weeks of exploring the east coast! You are beautiful Ho Chi Minh! Even if my body senses may never feel calm whilst I’m here!

Written Thursday March 21st 4pm

[yoongiblunt]

I’ve been running my mouth a lot lately

I kinda closed up hard for a few months

Folks commented on hour quiet I got

I didn’t really notice, I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff and sort of stopped going out/stopped being active in various friend groups/stopped throwing parties and bar crawling

A lot of people just sort of assumed I was doing really well w my sobriety tho and left me to it apparently

Mic told me that was sort of what the vibe felt like a couple of days ago when she asked me why I wasn’t hanging out so often

I really just haven’t had the time/energy with all of the constant changes I’ve been going thru

But over the last few weeks I’ve been having a surprising up swing, but I think it may just be mania. I find myself saying things that I normally wouldn’t say, telling people information that I usually would keep to myself? Tonight I jumped forward to warn a girl that the guy she was talking to was the same one who hit me up after I was literally told by a 17 year old that he was flirting with her. Now, usually, I would tell the girl in private and let her know, but in a bathroom full of girls I overheard her while I was pissing and got up and literally opened my stall door while I pulled my pants up to tell her to ghost him.

On top of that, earlier tonight one of the guys in my friends band told me that they were not thinking of going with the new bassist that they picked up, who is also a guy that works at my bar. He soft offered me a spot on the forgotten few, though it’s been soft offered to me multiple times. Obviously we hung out and talked a bit, but he told me that the new bassist oversold himself and couldn’t even find the notes he was looking for and that someone else would be filling in for him at the next couple of shows. He then told me that if there was ever a project I wanted to work on with him, that I could text him.

Later that night he popped up and bonked my shoulder with his kids hand and introduced me to his wife. That’s all besides the point, just prior info for my drunk brain.

For whatever reason, I felt the need to tell that nixed bass players bestie (my friend who is staying the night) all about this whole interaction.

I usually wouldn’t run my mouth about anything like that

Those are all things that the passive version of myself would keep my mouth shut about until the proper time or place for those sorts of conversations. Not at a bar or ina crowded bathroom. I’ve also just been saying things that are more abrasive than I used to. Not necessarily at anyone, but in reference to others.

I don’t like how messy and mean that feels. I wanna keep a better check on that kind of behavior because while honesty is important, and often times helpful in situations like with that guy and the minor, there’s a level of tact to it that I’ve been lacking.

Id like to be more careful with how I present information and who I present it to, because lack of tact has cost me many a decent friendship. I don’t want to ruin the ones I have with lack of growth

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 133,

It’s a weird feeling, being in the Village on market day before the market forum is actually set up.  My teaching duties have gotten me adjusted to waking up on time even while in my sunless archive room, which means for once I have a fairly leisurely morning until the farmers begin arriving from the outskirts and setting up their stalls.

Gives me time to think about what I want to pick up for tonight in the way of produce.  Oh, and I should probably get some bread too.  Some manner of spice perhaps.

A side effect of mostly being paid for my services in food is that I wind up doing surprisingly little of my own cooking.  Most of the meal preparation I do at the house is just slicing bread and spreading jams (or are they preserves?) on it.  Maybe pair it with whatever “payment” I’ve brought home with me that keeps well enough to store in the pantry.

*******

Today went well.  An awkward moment or two but positive overall.  And I didn’t burn the food or cut my hand open preparing it, so that’s always a plus.

But, as I so often find myself writing, back to chronological order.

After giving everyone from the outskirts time to arrive ahead of me I made my way over to the market forum where my first stop was with James and family.  I informed him that I was inviting the same group of friends that had gone on the floating island trip over for dinner tonight, and that included Cassandra.  While I was at it I threw in a promise to see her safely back to their farmhouse afterward.  As it happened, Cass had arrived before I did and already gotten permission.  James did ask me though what, if anything, this had to do with her apprenticeship.  I confessed that it was mostly a social gathering, but that I expected there to be discussion of where to go next for further documentive excursions once the dry season comes again.  Also, it could be considered as a “thank you” for how big a help she’s been in the day-to-day running of the library and - more recently - classroom.

That courtesy conversation taken care of and it established that Cass would be accompanying Lin on the walk to my place later in the day, I moved on to the shopping.  It’s funny how paying for things with money has come to feel like a novelty.  The basket weaver (for I realized I needed a second one if Maiko had my usual and I didn’t want to shove the groceries in the backpack with the laundry) actually asked for a promise of telling services at a future date before I even moved to produce coin.  Figuring that was obviously of more value to her than money I went ahead and agreed, even if a specific date hadn’t been set yet.

And so, the morning proceeded into early afternoon as I made the walk back to the house, new basket of fresh ingredients in hand and backpack full of less fresh laundry on my back.  Maiko was nowhere to be seen when I arrived.  Out fishing for this evening I figured.

I set myself to tidying the place in preparation for company, although between my barely being here lately and Maiko being a surprisingly tidy roommate for someone who’s used to living alone in the woods there wasn’t much for me to do.  Then again, I suppose she doesn’t have much in the way of possessions to make a mess with and has a lot of practice with keeping her very existence secret.  Estimating that I still had a fair bit of time before anyone arrived I took the opportunity to get laundry taken care of.

Seeing as it was threatening to rain, I once again took Maiko’s advice.  On the one hand that wasn’t a bad idea seeing as it did end up raining and that made for one less garment in need of drying afterward.  On the other hand, while I didn’t encounter Maiko on her way back downstream from the pool like I half expected to, I did encounter Lin and Cass walking up the path to the house just as I was emerging from the woods.  Well, perhaps “encountered” is a strong word given that we were still a fair distance apart when I spotted them, giving me time to sprint behind the house, drop the load of damp laundry, throw on something dry, and enter the living room in time to see that Maiko had already gotten back and was moving to answer the knocking at the front door.

Lin raised an eyebrow and tried to hold back a smirk as I greeted the two of them, disheveled and out of breath, but thankfully no one said anything about it.

I apologized for running late.  Lin apologized for arriving early.  Cass apologized on Vernon’s behalf for not making it.  Maiko had nothing to apologize for and went back to the fish cleaning that she’d gotten started in my absence.

I told the guests to make themselves comfortable while I lit the stove, retrieved some of this morning’s groceries, and started cooking the fish that Maiko had already finished preparing.  Different types than what she’d brought from the pool recently.

She said that’s because they were from out on the reef, not the pool.  Took her a while to find the types she was looking for.  Saltwater stings the eyes more than fresh.

I noticed she was setting the “extra” fish parts aside rather than devouring them on the spot like she tended to do when it was just the two of us.  Simply too much to eat at once this time, or trying not to do something Lin might find off putting?  Still, from the way she covered them before taking them out back, I suspect she was planning to save them for later rather than dispose of them.

Meanwhile, Lin and Cass continued the conversation they’d been having on the way here about the medical book Cass had borrowed from the archive.  I only caught bits and pieces of what they were saying, focused as I was on getting the food right, but they both certainly sounded engaged.  Actual back and forth discussion rather than one going on about an interest to the other.

Soon enough, the table was set, beverages were poured, and we dug in.  The mealtime conversation started off with (what I imagine is) the usual topic of friends that haven’t seen much of one another in a few weeks; how have we all been, what are we up to lately, etc.  I mostly let Cass speak for me as we’d largely been stuck in the library together with the teaching.  Lin had been going back and forth between checking on the very elderly who didn’t take as well to the constant rain and being cooped up in the house all day with her parents.  The occasional checkup on elders living in the outskirts broke up the monotony but making those trips in the rain while trying to keep a bag of medicinal supplies dry was less than fun.  As for Maiko, she claimed it was much like her usual in the rainy season; wake up, look for food, try to find a place to stay dry if possible, go to sleep.  But now with the dry place more guaranteed if she doesn’t wander too far (as she sometimes does) and there’s things to read when she otherwise would have just been waiting around for either the rain to stop or to fall asleep.  Although most of the reading material left in the house is Priscilla’s notes and those are half-illegible when they aren’t obscure shorthand.

That took us on to reminiscing about that trip followed by talking about other places to go once the dry season returns.  The old castle and the eastern island (I never did get around to tracking down that Tristan guy) wound up being our top two candidates.  I brought up Cloud Tower but Lin and Cass were both more wary of that than I expected, although neither of them could fully articulate why.

By this time it was just about dark outside and I made the suggestion that it was time I be getting Cass home.  She made the expected protestations, but I think she picked up on the meaningful eyebrow motions.  Either that or she was able to put together enough context clues to ask me during the walk if I invited her just so I could use walking her home as an excuse to leave Lin and Maiko alone together.  

I told her that was certainly a side effect I wasn’t above taking advantage of, but no, I would have accompanied her in any case.  She might be a child (and that’s not a bad thing, she ought to stop protesting it and cherish it while it lasts), but she’s also a competent, valuable assistant, a core part of this group we’ve assembled, and practically family to me.  That seemed to have her at a loss for words for once.  The rest of the walk back to the family farmhouse was in silence.

Most of the lights were out when we got there but those that remained cast the motherly form of Antigone in silhouette as she opened the door upon our approach.  I tried not to let my presence intrude upon the motherly fussing and affectionate protestations against such that followed.  Although some bits were hard not to accidentally eavesdrop on.  Her mother never gets to see Cassandra these days.  They saw one another just last week when Antigone came into the Village for market day (huh, I missed out on that).  But she’s hardly ever home.  She’s home now.  Yes, now that it’s time to go to bed.  A protest cut short and rendered to lie by a yawn.

After Cass bid me a good night and see you tomorrow and went off to a bed unused since the rainy season started, Antigone offered for me to come in for a cup of tea before making the walk back home.  My instinctive reflex was to demure from such an offer so as to avoid feelings of imposing on others but as the first syllable of decline left my mouth I recalled that secondary reason for walking Cass home, paused, and changed the course of my answer.

Inside was much as I remembered it from my last visit save dimmer and quieter.  Quieter than my own house at night without the nearby forest.  Louder than the concealed archive bedroom, but then again everything is.

The tea had already been brewed prior to my arrival.  We sat sipping in silence for a minute or two before she began asking about Cassandra and her apprenticeship.  How she’d been doing.  What exactly she’d been doing.  I explained as best I could, having little to say about Cassandra but praise.  The verification of the effectiveness of my new filing system.  The helping of visitors to find what they want.  The organizing of drop off requests to assist my delivery route for the day.  The taking charge of the older kids in the classroom.  The waking me up on some mornings.  The providing practical outdoor experience that I lack when out exploring.  The fact that she can practically do my job as well as I do these days.

Antigone appeared to relax tension I hadn’t noticed until it was gone following my explanation.  It seems Cassandra didn’t talk much about what she actually did in her apprenticeship outside of the “going out and exploring while taking notes” part, and that had her mother concerned.

I confided that I had concerns she might be tiring of it.  Perhaps finding it less exciting than she had originally anticipated.  She had lately taken an interest in certain texts on medicine and been talking with the Village doctor’s assistant.  Perhaps I was just reading too much into a passing fancy.  Or perhaps Antigone’s youngest will grow up to be a doctor instead of an archivist.  I’d certainly miss having her around to help if that were the case, but I’d rather see her do something she has a passion for than have an extra set of hands around the library.  I’d come to think of her like a younger sister and wanted what’s best for her.

I rather hastily added a request that my hostess not mention all that to Cass.  She already has enough older siblings and probably doesn’t want to add another to the count.  Especially one that gossips about her to her mother.

Antigone chuckled at that, said it’s safe with her and thanked me for letting her know all the same.  And for looking out for her daughter.

Speaking of looking out, I felt it my turn to ask a question and inquired as to how she knew to stay up waiting for us.

She didn’t.  Just some nights she can’t sleep no matter what she does so she just puts on a pot of tea and stays up through the next day.  No real reason she’s been able to figure out and it’s been like that as long as she can remember.  Usually not much comes of it, but every now and then like tonight it works out.

I said that sounded rough.

She said you get used to it.  But it is a part of the reason she rarely goes into the Village on market days.  Too busy using those days to catch up on sleep.  Provided the insomnia doesn’t hit on those days of course.

Perhaps she realized the conversation had gotten more personal than she meant, or maybe it was a recognition that the hour was growing late for non-insomniacs, but I was politely told that she “wouldn’t hold me up from getting back home” any longer soon after that.

I thanked her for the hospitality and bid her a good night.  If not this one than the next.

The walk back to the house was quiet.  No stalking sprites or spirits or unknown animals this time.

Back at the house I found Lin and Maiko still engaged in conversation, with the latter describing what it’s like free diving into deep water to catch fish with her bare hands.  I took that as a good sign.

Following the standard pleasantries and inquiries after Cass and the trip to and back from the farmhouse, I made my apologies that I wouldn’t be able to remain up and join in on their conversation, but that they were welcome to keep going while I retired to my room to get in some journaling followed by sleep.

As much as I would have liked to stay up with them (and as much as the tea certainly would have allowed me to) I wanted to keep giving them the time alone together.  Throughout the night as I’ve been writing this I’ve been able to make out their muffled voices through the door and down the hall.  Although now that I write that it occurs to me that it’s actually been a while since I heard them.  I should head to bed myself, yet I still feel surprisingly wakeful.

This tea is strong.

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