#june: voice of a silent twin

[1-800-hwahui]

art project

member | art major grad student bf!minghao x fem reader genre | smut. maybe fluff at the end kinda word count | ~2,800 warnings | dom!minghao, sub!reader, reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex (use protection irl!!), use of paints (they're safe dw), breastplay (?), choking, an ounce of humiliation (and i mean it there's barely any), reader begs him to cum inside, creampie, reader falls asleep for the aftercare but there is indeed (some) aftercare, use of pet names: good girl (1), darling (4), baby (3). if i missed any lmk! notes | lowercase intended. partially based on this ask from @sluttyminghao. dedicated to alicia i hope you enjoy suffering :) also thanks to @duhnova for proofreading ily -💒 june

minors dni. you will be blocked.

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“what do you need me to do?”

your soft voice snaps minghao back to attention, and he looks up at you, laying on a couch in the center of the room. completely naked.

his hands shake imperceptibly as he grips the pencil, keeping his eyes firmly on the canvas in front of him.

he knows it’s part of the curriculum to do an anatomy study—which, of course, involves studying the human body. he just didn’t expect it to be your body he has to study. and he definitely didn’t expect to be fighting a hard-on the entire time he’s trying to sketch.

and he’s trying not to, this assignment is due at midnight and he’s just barely started, but how is he supposed to be expected to focus on this assignment when his gorgeous partner, the love of his life, is sitting so innocently yet so lewdly in front of him? patiently waiting for him to finish his assignment so you can spend the rest of this gorgeous sunday afternoon with him?

minghao has a feeling he’s not going to get much work done today.

“do you need me to pose, or something?” you call out, a hint of nervousness in your voice at the prolonged silence in the studio.

he stands up from the chair at his easel and tentatively walks over to you.

“can i…?” he breathes, reaching out to touch you.

you bite your lip and look up at him, nodding. “mhm.”

it would be a lie to say you weren’t incredibly turned on being minghao’s model. something about the thought of being completely revealed to him while he sits fully clothed, scrutinizing every inch of your body so he can immortalize you as one of his masterpieces, makes you rub your thighs together against the couch in anticipation.

his slender fingers trace up your side absently, his eyes fixated on your breasts and he gently turns you towards the light shining through the open window.

“tell me what you need, hao,” you whisper, and you’re positive that both of you know you’re talking about more than just you posing for his portrait.

with him standing in front of where you’re laying, your gaze is directly level with his thighs, the obvious tent in his pants just within reach.

you look up at him, your eyes silently asking permission before you reach out to rest a hand tentatively on his thigh.

he shudders, and you smile, moving your hand on top of his bulge and just barely applying pressure.

he groans at your touch, then grabs your wrist, stilling your hand. you pause, waiting for him.

“assignment—first,” he says breathily. “let me finish first.”

you curl your legs behind you on the couch, leaning back. “you could always… finish first,” you grin mischievously.

he steps back, barely out of your reach, but enough that your hand falls back down to your side.

“better hurry then,” you say. “you’re gonna have quite the mess to clean up. i’m dripping all over this sofa.”

you’re teasing and you know it. but you figure this is payback for all the essays and assignments that he’d interrupted so he could spread you out on the twin bed in his cramped dorm your first year together.

he turns suddenly and hurries to a cabinet on the other side of the room.

while his back is to you, you decide to have a little fun– if you weren’t already having fun riling him up.

you slip your hand between your thighs and spread your legs, the cold air hitting your sensitive area and making your shiver. you push apart your folds, slowly dragging one finger up and down to spread your wetness around. you whine when you finally slip the tip of your index finger inside, just barely to the first knuckle. not enough to give you anything, but enough to make minghao mad.

and mad he is. when he turns around from the cabinet, the look on his face isn’t surprised at your bratty actions, but rather, a sadistic kind of excitement. he narrows his eyes at you playfully.

“did i tell you you were allowed to do that, darling?” he says, walking back towards you. his shyness from earlier is gone, replaced with the usual hard persona that you’re used to seeing from him. which is exactly the reason you decided to misbehave.

“mm, no,” you admit. “but so what?”

he scoffs. “if you’re done being a brat, i have work to do on this assignment.”

you finally notice the tubes of paint in his hand, and your heart speeds up in exhilaration.

“here.” he tosses them to you, colorful pinks and blues and yellows. “if you’re going to touch yourself, use the paint. give me something pretty to look at while i draw, hmm?”

you turn one of the tubes over in your hand, studying the label.

“they’re body safe, don’t worry,” he adds, his faux-displeased look falling for a minute into the sweet, shy boyfriend you’re used to. “i, uh… got them special for you, in case you wanted to try them.”

you smile, grateful for his thoughtfulness. your eyes never leave his as you snap open the cap of one of the bottles and dump it onto your chest, almost daring him to make a move. bright orange liquid spills down your breasts, covering you in paint.

minghao steps forward and runs his finger through the paint, collecting it on his finger before smearing it roughly across your cheek. “there,” he says, turning and walking back to his easel as if nothing happened. “now you look like art.”

you giggle suggestively and open another bottle, squirting a glob into the palm of your hand. you rub your hands together to thoroughly coat them, then slap your hands against your thighs, leaving bright pink handprints along the skin just below your dripping cunt.

minghao sits at his canvas, sketching nonchalantly as you make a mess on the couch.

you think he’ll give in soon and come fuck you like you want, but he’s firm; at least half an hour passes without so much as a smirk in your direction. he’s so focused on his work, that you don’t think he even notices when you start fingering yourself again, hands still covered in paint as you roll your clit between your fingers and buck your hips off the couch in desperate search for more.

“hao,” you whine, getting impatient. “are you done yet?”

“brats don’t get what they want,” he reminds you sternly. “and you haven’t been behaving very well. now sit still so i can finish this, or you won’t get fucked at all today.”

you moan and lean back against the couch again. despite all the playing, you know this assignment is worth a big part of his grade, and he needs to get it done– tonight.

you’re almost starting to drift off when you hear chair legs scrape against the floor loudly. you look up, tired, and see minghao walking towards you with a satisfied grin.

“it’s finished?” you ask, stifling a yawn. the afternoon has gotten later, and the sun still shining through the window has gotten darker.

“enough. you still want me to take care of you, baby?” he breathes.

you nod and whimper, starting to wriggle in your seat. some of the paint on your skin has dried, and it cracks and flakes off at the movement. the half-full bottles lay on the seat next to you, and he picks one up, turning it over in his hands.

“you know how this works, darling. need to hear you say it out loud,” he chides.

you moan and adjust in your seat. “yes, please. hao, please,” you groan out.

“that’s my good girl,” he smiles, opening the bottle and pouring some into his hand. his long finger swirls the liquid around in his palm teasingly.

“please,” you whine again.

“i’m not sure you deserve me, after how you behaved,” he frowns, but he begins tracing his paint-covered finger along your collarbone. “get my pants off, then, if you want me so bad.”

it’s humiliating, but you swear you’ve never moved faster in your life, hands flying to the loose buttons of his pants.

his hands are now completely covered in paint, so you help him shrug off his cardigan, leaving him in a low cut tank top. you admire the way his skin glistens with sweat, before either of you have even done anything strenuous.

suddenly he presses both palms flat against your chest, leaving pretty purple handprints over your breasts before lifting his hands. you groan at the cold feeling of the paint on your nipples, watching his own harden beneath his shirt.

the muscles in his arms flex as he slips out of the last of his clothes, leaving him exposed in front of you. you know he must be painfully hard by now, having had to sit and watch you writhe on the sofa for nearly an hour.

he grabs you and flips you over with ease, manhandling you into the position he wants you. you don’t struggle, letting him toss you into whatever pose he pleases.

“since you couldn’t sit still earlier, maybe you’ll sit still once you’ve got my dick in you,” he grunts through gritted teeth.

you’re flat on your back against the seat cushions, minghao standing over you with one leg planted on the back of the couch.

you whine out his name, and finally you get what you want. he starts pushing into you, meeting zero resistance from how wet you’ve been for the past hour combined with leftover paint that dripped down to your cunt.

you sigh, head lolling back against the armrest as he enters you inch by inch, giving you the delicious stretch you’ve been waiting for all day.

your breathing falters as he slowly pulls most of the way out before slamming back into you, giving you little time to adjust.

the different colors of paint smear down your skin as he thrusts into you, the force of his thrusts making the paint pool at your breasts and collarbones.

he slows down for just a second to grab another color and slop it on his palm, before his hand slides up to your neck. the pressure is just barely there, but it’s more than enough to make you dizzy.

“mingha–ao,” you gasp as he continues snapping his hips against yours. the pads of his fingers tighten against your neck, and you’re sure he can feel your racing pulse beneath his fingertips.

“look at my beautiful masterpiece,” he coos, his hips never letting up as he speaks. “my work of art. covered in all these pretty colors, just for me.”

you let out a whimper at his words, involuntarily clenching around his cock.

he curses and tightens his grip around your neck. “squeezing me– ah, so beautifully, darling. ‘m not gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

“don’t care,” you blubber, eyes starting to fill with tears from the constant pressure building in your pussy. “cum in me, hao, please– need you, baby, need you to cum in me–”

“you think you’ve earned it?” he scolds, reaching down with his other hand to grab your breast, smearing more paint across your dirtied skin. “you think you’ve earned my cum?”

“m–please, hao, please,” you sob. “please!”

he lets go of your breast and reaches down to play with your pussy, slowing his pace a little so he can rub tight circles over your clit. you try to squeeze your legs shut, but he keeps you spread open with his knee.

“co-coming,” you gasp, struggling to catch your breath as every muscle in your body contracts. his fingers on your clit move faster and suddenly you cry out, wave after wave of intense pleasure hitting you with such force your vision goes dark for a split second. your ears are ringing; the only sound you can focus on is the sound of minghao’s soft grunts as he continues plowing into you.

when you finally regain control of your limbs, you reach out to grab his arm, the paint still on your own hands leaving smeared colors along his bicep.

he pulls out completely, and you whimper at the loss before you see him bend down, his head level with your pussy. he looks up at you for a second, wordlessly making sure you’re still okay, and once you nod, he spits roughly on your hole, saliva dripping down your used cunt.

you moan at the feeling of your body slick with paint, sweat and now spit. minghao quickly shoves two fingers into your cunt, giving you no warning before thrusting them in and out, over and over again.

but just as quickly as he began, he removes his fingers, wiping them on the inside of your thigh.

“need you to– cum in me, hao, please.” you whine, reaching out for him, but your arms are too sore to move very far, and the effort is futile.

he holds the base of his cock in one hand, gently guiding it back into you as his other hand comes forward to meet with yours. he interlaces your fingers, the paint on both your hands combining one last time.

he gradually speeds up his pace until he’s thrusting into you so roughly, you have to cover your head with your other hand to stop yourself from slamming into the armrest.

“give me one more, baby,” he growls, adjusting his leg propped up on the couch so he hits at a deeper angle. “i’m c-close,” he adds when you moan in response.

you shut your eyes tightly, feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten. you squeeze minghao’s hand and feel him squeeze back, until his hips stop abruptly and he shoves his cock fully into you, letting out a high-pitched moan, and you know he’s coming.

at that moment you let go, your cunt gushing around him as you work through your second orgasm of the night.

you can’t tell if the warm sensation between your legs is from his cum or yours, but what you do know is that every inch of you is sore from sitting on this couch all day.

he slips out of you and runs his finger through your folds one more time, making you shiver with sensitivity as he admires his work.

he stands and walks back to the cabinet from earlier. you can’t see what he’s getting from your position on the couch, but you can only hope it’s something soft and comfortable.

“wipes,” he explains as he comes back to kneel beside you. “gotta get you cleaned up, darling.”

you whimper and let your eyes fall shut as you give yourself up to minghao, allowing him to take care of you. the cold, wet feeling of the wipe across your chest is uncomfortable, but you know you can’t stay covered in paint forever.

he wipes slowly along your body, being careful not to be too rough around your neck where he held you and between your legs. you feel yourself drifting off, the world becoming quieter and quieter as you relax into the gentle feeling of his arms around you, tenderly cleaning the paint off your skin.

when you wake up you’re no longer on the couch. in fact, you’re no longer at minghao’s studio.

you sit up, rubbing your eyes to see the inside of minghao’s apartment. you feel a blanket over your lap, and your hair is wet, though you don’t remember washing it.

you hear footsteps behind you, and you turn to see minghao carrying a tray with fruit and a cup of tea.

“you’re awake,” he smiles warmly.

“how long was i out?”

he sets the tray on the table next to you and shrugs. “maybe an hour? you were snoring in my car, by the way.”

your face heats up. “i was not!”

he laughs. “well, you were. anyway… got you in the shower, put all our clothes in the laundry–”

“did you finish your assignment?” you ask.

he smiles. “yeah, while you were out. only time you’d sit still long enough for me to draw you,” he teases.

you pout, shaking your head in disagreement, but accept his snacks.

“so… the paint?” he asks cautiously.

you take a sip from your tea. “what about it?”

“did you… um, like it?”

it’s your turn to smile. “i did. it was fun, we should try that more often. you’re sexy when you talk about art.”

the lighting in his living room is dim, but you can still see the way his cheeks flush at your words.

he sighs, reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “my beautiful masterpiece,” he says softly. “all mine.”

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[deliciousangelfestival]

Secret Sorrows || 2 -B.Barnes

Summary: Former special ops, Bucky, seeks solace in a cold refuge to escape his past. However, his haunted history catches up, unraveling mysteries that persist relentlessly.

Warning: Domestic Violence. But Bucky will save the day.

Series Masterlist

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Bucky found himself in the role of Ethan's bodyguard after being hired. The following day, Y/N and Ethan shared a meal during breakfast, with Bucky standing guard alongside others. The surreal realization of Iris having a twin still lingered in Bucky's mind.

Amidst the routine, Ethan's ongoing grief manifested in his lack of appetite. A dropped spoon into his cereal soup signaled his distress, and he expressed, "I want to see grandma."

In her characteristically cold manner, Y/N replied, "She's coming. With grandfather."

Ethan's greeting turned into a nervous, almost startled, "Hii," as he spotted his grandfather approaching.

Bucky observed the sudden fear in the young boy and quietly inquired of a colleague, "What's wrong?"

The fellow bodyguard, Peter, responded hushedly, "The young master's grandfather from the mother's side, Jeremy Aston. He's strict."

Jeremy Aston. The name sent a shiver down Bucky's spine. He knew this person is the reason why Iris abruptly left the academy and never returned. 

Bucky, seeking more information, asked Peter, "Where are the grandparents from the father's side?"

Peter replied, "Ethan's other grandfather is still in jail."

Peter added, "Miss Y/N became the legal guardian after the lawyer read the will of Ethan's father two days ago. The entire Van Alen family was furious because that means Miss Y/N now holds the reins as the CEO in the Van Alen business until Ethan comes of age." 

Bucky remarked, "Wow, the lives of rich people are different."

Suddenly, an announcement echoed, "Mr. and Mrs. Aston have arrived."

Ethan whispered with a trembling voice, "Grandpa is here too?" Then he looked at Bucky. Bucky recognized the expression, reminiscent of the fear he saw in Ethan's eyes in the Antarctic.

What made this kid afraid?

The door opened, revealing two elderly figures.

Jeremy Aston is an old-fashioned man known for his strict adherence to rules. Iris rarely spoke about her father, but when she did, Bucky could sense her fear.

Ethan, displaying a mix of excitement and apprehension, quickly abandoned his chair and ran to the older woman. "Grandma."

June Aston leaned down, enveloping her grandson in a warm hug. "My baby," she exclaimed.

The room buzzed with restrained tension as Jeremy observed the scene. Bucky, still on guard, couldn't help but wonder about the secrets concealed beneath the wealthy facade of the Van Alen and Aston family.

Jeremy brushed Ethan's hair, saying, "A big boy like you shouldn't cry."

Ethan replied with a tremor, "Yes, grandpa," seeking refuge in his grandma's arms.

"Y/N, come here," Jeremy ordered.

Y/N clenched her fists, and as she approached Jeremy, suddenly she felt her cheeks sting.

'SLAP'

The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the room. Pretending not to see, everyone turned their gaze away except for Bucky. He witnessed Y/N being slapped and falling to the ground.

How could a father do this to his daughter?

Ethan hid his face, and June looked away, her expression holding back tears. It became clear why Ethan sounded scared when his grandfather's name was mentioned.

Y/N remained silent, fixing her outfit as she stood up. Jeremy, angered, questioned, "How could my grandson get kidnapped, and it made into the news? You didn't do enough!"

Maintaining her composure, Y/N calmly responded, "It's my mistake. I won't let that happen again."

In a fit of rage, Jeremy pointed his finger at her forehead, pushing her head multiple times. "You better! Ethan is the heir for both families!"

The repeated pushes threatened to make her fall again, the earlier slap still stinging in her left ear. Suddenly, she felt her forehead no longer under attack and her back being supported.

It turned out Bucky was holding her back and had grabbed Jeremy's hand. Bucky asserted, "That's enough. She's an adult, not a kid."

Stunned, everyone remained silent. No one dared to challenge Jeremy, and even he was taken aback, exclaiming, "How dare you!!!"

Jeremy sensed a strange familiarity in the man before him, though he couldn't fathom knowing someone so rude. Pulling his hand away, he dismissed Bucky's touch as if it were contamination.

"Who are you?!" Jeremy demanded.

Safely behind Bucky, Y/N felt a sense of protection, like a formidable wall shielding her from a monstrous presence.

Bucky met Jeremy's gaze and calmly asserted, "I'm a bodyguard hired by Van Alen. My duty is to protect. Miss Y/N became the legal guardian, which means she's part of the Van Alen family."

Jeremy scoffed, disdain evident. "Who even wants to hire a rogue like you?"

A surprising voice interjected, "Me."

Both Jeremy and June were taken aback as Ethan stepped forward. Liberating himself from June's arms, he ran to stand behind Bucky.

Looking up at his aunt, Ethan noticed her reddened cheeks and a trace of blood on her lips. His aunt might be stern, but she was only strict. The absolute terror lay in his grandfather, scarier than any monster he'd read about in books.

With a determined look, Ethan tugged at the fabric of Bucky's pants, prompting him to bend down. Meeting the little kid's earnest gaze, Bucky felt his eyes welling up, a silent testament to the emotions stirred by Ethan's innocent yet profound words.

"My aunt didn't do anything wrong!!!" Ethan declared with a touch of defiance. "She kept me safe even though she always works and works. She never angry and yelled at me! But why does Grandpa always bully Aunt Y/N?"

Jeremy, caught off guard, never anticipated such a candid revelation from his grandson. His brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief while his hands clenched into fists.

"Wha-? I did that because your aunt did something wrong," Jeremy stammered, attempting to justify his actions.

Bucky, now standing tall, maintained a steady gaze on Jeremy. A steely resolve flickered in his eyes, accentuating the intensity of his emotions. The clenching of his jaw and the subtle tightening of his fists revealed the simmering anger beneath the surface.

"You made my boss cry," Bucky retorted, his voice carrying an undertone of reproach. Crossing his arms in defiance, he added, "You have 5 minutes to leave this place."

Fueled with anger, Jeremy pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky, "You!!!"

In response, Bucky swiftly intercepted, breaking Jeremy's pointing finger with a swift, assertive motion.

"You seem like a bully," Bucky declared his body language exuding strength and disdain.

Jeremy, frustrated and defeated, let out a primal scream, "Arrghh!!"

The room filled with Jeremy's frustrated scream, a primal roar of indignation. Meanwhile, Y/N, now composed and in control, directed her assistant with a commanding yet restrained tone, "Send my father to the hospital."

The assistant, responding promptly, acknowledged, "Yes, ma'am."

With these actions and reactions, the chaos that had erupted moments ago began to subside. Bucky's assertiveness had not only shifted the power dynamics but also brought a semblance of justice.

Y/N's relieved sigh carried a weight of exhaustion as her eyes met Ethan's. The unspoken understanding between them lingered in the air, a testament to their shared burden.

Ethan, adopting a defensive posture, declared, "This doesn't mean we're friends," before turning away and leaving Y/N behind. His uncertain addition, "Yet," hung in the air, leaving a trace of vulnerability in his wake.

Y/N couldn't help but scoff at the theatrics of her nephew's departure. However, beneath the surface, a storm of emotions raged within her.

Sensing her turmoil, Bucky approached and gently guided her to sit down. With a swift command, he arranged for a first aid kit, his concern etched across his face.

"I'm fine," Y/N insisted, but Bucky's stern response halted her protests. 

"No, you're not. You just lost your sister, and your father hit you. That's not okay."

Y/N sighed, her words revealing the deep wounds of a lifetime. "That's how I live as an unwanted child."

Bucky flinched at her words, echoing Iris's similar sentiment haunting him. Memories resurfaced of a time when he and Iris skipped class, seeking solace under a tree. Iris, lying on his arm, had confessed, "In my family, I'm the unwanted child."

As Bucky thought about the parallels between Iris and Y/N, the mystery surrounding Y/N deepened. The shared tattoo and the mirrored expressions of sorrow all added layers to the enigma Y/N.

The atmosphere, thick with angst and uncertainty, hung over them. Bucky couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/N's story than met the eye. The question lingered in his mind like an unsolved puzzle: 'Who are you, Y/N?'

Author Note :

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[haruchiyo-sanzu]

━━ 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.

pairing : timeskip!suna rintarō x fem!reader

characters : miya atsumu (mentioned, as the no. 1 drama queen).

genre : fluff

warnings : lowercase, not proofread. time skip! may contain manga spoilers, cringy dialogues and pretentious writing.

notes : so it's rainy season in india, and since rain is so romanticised, it calls for a fic. can you tell i wanna cuddle with rin as we stay in bed whilst listening to the sound of rain? yeah i wanna do that.

ps : i was supposed to post it during june but it really slipped my mind.

it begins as a whisper in the wind.

the night had been beautiful with twinkling stars layering a blanket over the firmament, and the sky ── a dome of midnight blue, with gentle breeze softly sweeping past the streets and roads that occasionally made even the mighty trees to sway to its melody and the leaves to pirouette and prance along its tempo.

but the early morning zephyr that had been still and silent on preceeding days seems to have gained a slight movement as if it has finally discovered its trajectory yet is content to meander at its own pace, has now turned into violent gales, harshly cold by the time morning breaks out in a humid haze. there is tapping on the window which turns into a pitter-patter sound as it showers down; mist lingers in the air as the blazing sun hides behind the mass of grey clouds surrounding the aether ─── simply splendid! raining the day you have an important meeting.

you don't know what time it is in the morning when your eyes slowly flutter open to the sound of heavy rain pouring down onto the earth reaching your ears and the ephemeral scent of petrichor tickling your nose, siesta entangled within the nook your lashes which you rub grogilly, blinking twice to comprehend your surroundings before you try to get off the bed.

key word : try.

suna has an arm wrapped around your waist in a gentle yet tight grip, his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck ── you would have been annoyed at the whole ordeal (first it's raining, second you are most likely going to be late) but looking at how tranquil and peaceful he looks, you cannot bring yourself to push him off and wake him up, and subconsciously your face softens, as you lovingly brush stands of brown hair out of his eyes.

(he had returned home later than usual, having to stay back to get extra practice for an upcoming match, and crashed on the bed as soon as he came back. he really must have been tired because he didn't bothered giving a sarcastic remark or the middle finger when you had made a remark, about how much he stunk because of the lingering sweat).

you reach for suna's mobile phone kept on the bedside table, the sudden illumination of screen glares at you as it reads 8 : 19 in bold, there are several notifications popping up ── mostly from the miya twins and one from his sister. he'll check that later, placing the phone back from where you took it, you try to get him off you (but pushing a 6'3 athlete is no easy task).

his green eyes flick open as they blink at you, adjusting to the light ── up close, you can see the specs of brown in the chartresure of his irises, one look at them and they take you in, holding you captive, as they journey you into the woods, trees upon trees upon trees, with sunlight reflecting on them, a golden tint. they make you dive into nature itself. his eyes are beautiful ─── ethereal, one the poets write about and artists try to capture in their paintings; even now he looks so angelic, that is until you remember that suna rintarō is the devil reincarnate. “morning beautiful.” he mumbles sweetly then adds : “early morning and you're already staring at me. i'm really that irresistible, eh?” he says (his voice deep and husky, it makes your heart flutter), a smug grin on his features, which you wished to wipe off. you only glare at him in response before hitting him with a pillow.

“no. not at all.” you answer rather haughtily, then motion at his arm wrapped around your torso. “actually, i would appreciate if you'd let me get up.”

“no.”

“what do you mean no?”

“no means no.” he asserts, shifting his position to further nuzzle his in the curve of your neck. “did nobody teach you that?”

“oh, shut up rin. i don't have time for this.” you try to push him off but he takes your hand in his instead guiding it to his head, urging you to continue playing with his hair, he adores it when you do that (like a cat! but he won't admit it). so you move your fingers through his hair, combing and curling it (you can swear he is more cat than human) “i have a meeting today, i don't want to be late just because my boyfriend wanted to sleep. so get up!”

“just five minutes.”

“no.”

“come on, don't be like that.”

“no means no. nobody taught you that?” suna can practically hear the grin in your voice.

“it's raining heavily. call quits?” he suggests. “you can get sick.”

suna is clingy this morning (clinger than usual). blame it on his extra practice which ended later than his normal timings, so yesterday night he had been unable to cuddle with you and had dropped on the bed instead.

“i wont be walking there, y'know?”

“car accidents increase during heavy rain.” he's pulling you down with him, leg entangling with your own as he lays fleeting butterfly kisses on your neck.

“stay.” he murmurs, now towering over you, his voice is barely above a whisper, he is looking at you now, his eyes a soothing green, green ── that you swear can pierce your soul and see the crude and raw parts of you, in the most gentle and loving ways, like a childhood wound you get while playing ── clashes with your own. he leans in closer, and the world seems to fade away like rust and dust. the scenery outside, the sound of pouring shower, the empty, rain-stained streets and him ─── it is just too beautiful, and you can spend the rest of your life admiring it. “please.”

he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, his breath tickling your ear. “you know, you're staring again. maybe you should take a picture or even create a whole album for yer amazing boyfriend.” apparently that was enough to snap you out of it. you grab another pillow, and awing it at his head ── careful not to hurt him, but suna being number two drama queen (because no. 1 is atsumu, no arguments accepted!) had to let out an ouch! meanie. this gives you the opportunity you needed, (after gathering up all your courage and determination) you finally leave the comfort of your bed, instantly missing the warmth it provided, the silken sheets and suna's arm wrapped around you.

suna has a pout on his face, you merely roll your eyes at him before standing in front of the window ── still raining heavily, the trees outside look too preety to be real, it's almost as if you're in heaven. the glimmering sun is nowhere to be seen, which is a realief from the usual scotching heat of the mornings which only seem to intensify as the sun changes its trajectory. but the peaceful and tranquil rain certainly makes one yearn for a hot cup of coffee and a good book to read. but job is job. so with a sigh you grab your hair tie before pulling your messy, bed hair into a rough ponytail.

the click! sound of photograph is what snaps you attention back towards you boyfriend, who has his mobile phone in his hand and the flashlight zooming in and out of focus as he continues to click pictures of you. tch! clicking your tongue in annoyance you send him a glare before commenting : “Who's clicking pictures now? you're miss me that much while i'll be away?”

“no.” he dedpans as he looks at you bored (you know he's somewhat sad...? or mad...? sometimes it's hard to discern his emotions, but he certainly isn't happy so you made a mental note to watch a movie with him tonight after you get back and cuddle with him and get some popcorn too). “it's actually for my album titled ── vicious monkey.” he says monotonously. you blink, suna can be mean sometimes. your fists clench as you glare daggers at him. that's it! no movies tonight. no hugs. no popcorn. you take the pillow at the corner of the bed, which was almost falling off, and hit his shin with it ── this time with much force (because you don't have a good comeback this time, although you won't admit it ever).

“ow! what's this?” he exclaims (after hissing at you as he gently ran his hand through his legs) in a voice certain octaves higher than usual, as if he's about to announce something very important. he gives you a look before turning back to his phone reading : “breaking news : volleyball star brutally murdered by mad girlfriend.”

“he must have deserved it.” you point out. you know suna has a sarcastic remark to make, which usually lied on borderline offensive, by the look on his face but the ringtone of your mobile grabs your attention.

a call from the office, now? you frown swiping up the green recieve call option, then putting it to you ear, you greet with a simple : “hello.”

suna watches you silently, as you converse ── calls from boss is never good, most of the times they call you for work on weekends, but since you have to work today, how bad can it get? or maybe it can get worse, he doesn't really know, having no experience in working in an office (it sounds boring really. couldn't be him). it must've been important because he knows how much you love day-offs, he'd feel guilty (not that he'd admit it, again, he doesn't admit a lot of things) if you were to be late because of him.

“i could drop you, if you want.” he says once the call is over. you look over at him, a barely contained smile on your face. he archs an eyebrow, what happened?

“severe rain, the other party cannot make it. so the meeting's postponed till further notice.” you explain, although you cannot regain your sleep at least now you can have the day off.

“good for you. should have just listened to me in the first place.”

“hey, how was I supposed to know──” before you finish he is reaching for your hands, holds them in his and slowly pulls you towards him, you can feel his breath tickle your skin and how close he is to you, he leans in and all your previous words and complains hang in. he puts his finger on your lips.

“i'm glad you're here.” he whispers mostly to himself than to you. and you are too.

you have an arm wrapped around him, whilst his fingers find their home in the curls of your hair ── they're tangled, perhaps messy even but he smoothes them out. (he's good at it. sometimes he would even try different braids on your hair)

“your hair is worse than horse mane.”

(and he's also good at ruining perfect moments)

a click of your tongue and a light shove expresses your displeasure, “i hate you”

he kisses your temple, a stupid smile on his face, “i love you too.”

(and you love it when he smiles)

it ends with a whisper in the wind.

[g-on-ef]

NikoBran family

Okay so it's been decided that you guys wanna see my nikobran x devil nights headcanons but before I do let me introduce you guys the Sokolov-King Family ^^

These two are my prime nikobran and how I imagine them so yes these are my babies ^^

Now on to the kids {these are the kids ill be using in future stories as well especially (spoilers) for the heart was build to break whether its mpreg surrogate or adoption these will be the kids ill be using} also I'm a firm believer that they would want a big family

Name: Azaliya Hope Sokolov-King

Age: 18

Birthday: May 7th

Azaliya is the oldest of her siblings she's a lot like her dad Brandon quite a control freak perfectionist but also can let loose when she wants to she enjoys figure skating and always works hard on her crafts unlike her siblings she's not an artistic person she does love singing and has a lovely voice but her passion will always be the ice.

She use to date Jeremy's oldest son but realized she didn't like him and broke up with him

She's overprotective of her siblings especially her younger brother after he went through a traumatic event

She meets Ivarsen Torrance after a prank gone wrong and Ivarsen becomes obsessed with her

Name: Jason Kazimir Sokolov-King

Age: 18

Birthday: May 7th

Despite being Azaliyas twin Jason is the opposite of his sister hell he's more Niko than Bran and isn't afraid to show it he's a talented painter especially when it comes to landscapes. Unlike his dad he had a passion for it and everyone can see he has a gift for it. He's not afraid to fight and beat the shit out of anyone family included if it means keeping his family safe.

He meets Madden Mori in a underground fight and he definitely follows in his father's footstep when it comes to following people around till they give in and admit they love him

Name: Hunter Lyubov Sokolov-King

Age: 14

Birthday: June 13th

If there's anyone that's a mini Niko it's his second daughter Hunter. Her name came from Niko wanting to honor his father and decided to give her his last name as her first especially when he sees how much she reminds him of both himself and his dad. She's a tough as nails chick and isn't afraid to fight people twice her age. She's overprotective of all her siblings {yes including her older ones} but none more than her twin brother She's a fashion designer and is always making such beautiful clothes loves drawing especially anime characters

She meets Finn Grayson at the library and since meeting her Hunter has never been the same

Name: William Anatoliy Sokolov-King

Age: 14

Birthday: June 13th

If Hunter is a mini Niko William is definitely a mini Bran. Niko is overprotective of his youngest children especially since they both remind him to much of his lotus flower. William is a shy thing and rarely talks unless needs to he unfortunately went through a traumatic event that makes him afraid of being touched and can sometimes make him mute. He loves writing and enjoys reading a good book. Hunter his sister is his best friend and he adores her.

He and Fane Torrance meet when William was being picked on by his cousin Fane not knowing that was William's cousin beat him up and made a silent vow to protect the small boy that reminded him of a prince

Name: Autumn Maya Sokolov-King

Age: 8

Birthday: October 31

The youngest Sokolov-King member the one everyone is the most protective of Autumn is known as Nikos and Brans little Blessing and her older siblings agree. They all love her and are extremely overprotective of her. Being a Halloween Baby Autumn loves horror gore and of course anime she especially enjoys creating music dancing and playing instruments. She's playful and has a fun and outgoing personality

When Dag Torrance sees her he thinks she's annoying and doesn't like her but after a while she grows on him and as they get older together Dag realizes that he harbors strong feelings for her and won't let anyone take her away from him

Welp that's everyone ^^ I'll start on the headcanons right away and post them soon ^^ im so excited to incorporate these children into my stories especially in the heart was build to break cause spoilers they will make an appearance ^^

[space-kitten-606]

Growing Taller

"Saeran ~," Saeyoung chimed, as he skipped into their room, making the younger twin jump in surprise at the sudden noise. "Guess what month it is!!"

His eyes grew wide at the unexpected question. Looking around the room, Saeran tried to find an answer to his brother's question, even though he thought, it would be in vain. After all, even if the answer was posted around somewhere, he wouldn't be able to read it quickly.

"I dunno….but don't yell so much - if mommy hears, she'll be very angry…."

Saeran's voice was but a timid whisper, his gaze trained to the dusty floorboards.

Sighing at the fearful display, Saeyoung closed the door behind him.

"Don't worry. That woman is….sleeping," he said, his voice trailing off a bit at that last part. 

Then, he hurried to one of the old wooden shelves in their room, pushing it aside with relative ease. 

"It's june!", he answered his own question, his excitement returning immediately.

Behind the shelf, that was now out of the way, there was a poster Saeyoung had put up a few years back. Its light blue coloring clashed with the rest of the dilapidated room, alongside the stickers depicting stars and rocket ships Saeyoung had decorated it with, all of which he had received from the church.

"That means it's our birthday soon! And it also means that we get to see how much we grew!"

Saeran was silent for a moment. He really wanted to get swept up by his brother's excitement, but he couldn't quite find it in himself to actually do so.

"I probably didn't grow at all…"

Frowning a bit as he heard him say this, Saeyoung pulled a black felt liner from his pocket.

"Of course you did. You can't not grow. Plus I can tell by looking at you that you're much taller than last year!"

Saeran's eyes lit up at that.

"Really??" he asked, making the other laugh happily at the sight of him coming out of his shell a bit. 

Saeyoung nodded excitedly, before pulling a little chair next to the poster.

"Can you measure me first?"

A bit nervous at this request, Saeran bit the inside of his cheek. Saeyoung had always been much taller than him, making it quite difficult for him to reach. As for the little chair Saeyoung was patting as he looked at him expectantly, Saeran lacked the confidence to climb it, too afraid he may fall and hurt himself. 

Still, he didn't want to disappoint his brother.

"Okay," he mumbled, shuffling over to the poster Saeyoung had already aligned himself with.

Standing on his tiptoes and holding on to Saeyoung with one hand, Saeran tried his best to draw a straight line above the top of his twin's head.

Once he was done, Saeyoung turned around quickly, wanting to see for himself. 

Saeran winced at noticing that the line he drew was rather crooked, making it difficult to make out which line from the poster it aligned with. 

He watched anxiously as Saeyoung squinted at the poster, not saying a single word.

"This…," he finally started, making Saeran tense up in anticipation of being scolded for doing such a bad job, "...is super awesome! That’s at least three centimeters!"

Surprised at the positive reaction, Saeran simply stared at Saeyoung, who had already grabbed the felt liner to put his name next to the crooked line before spinning around to Saeran.

"Your turn!!" He exclaimed, holding out his hand.

Taking a deep breath, Saeran grabbed the outstretched hand, allowing Saeyoung to guide him to the optimal place to stand.

"You have to stand very straight and not move, so I can see properly, okay?" Saeyoung instructed him, placing one of his hands on Saeran's chest to help him stand upright.

Focusing on getting an accurate measurement, Saeyoung stuck out his tongue, glancing at his brother's nervous face. As his hand moved above Saeran's head, Saeran held his breath, trying his hardest to not move an inch.

Saeyoung grinned at the cute sight and drew the line quite a bit above Saeran's actual size and much closer to his own.

"Got it!" 

Saeran almost jumped away from the wall, eager to see how he compared to his brother.

"I'm almost as big as you!" He exclaimed excitedly, struggling to believe his eyes. "...but I look so much smaller when I stand next to you…"

Saeyoung waved his concern off.

"That's because normally, we don't stand completely straight!"

Thinking about that explanation for a moment, Saeran pursed his lips. He wasn't quite sure if what Saeyoung said was true, but at the same time he had no reason to believe that he was lying. 

Walking over to the poster, he measured his distance of growth from last year with his finger, comparing it to the distance from this year.

"I grew much more this year," he recognized.

"Yup! That's because we're turning eight this year!"

Saeran started to count on his fingers.

In the meantime, Saeyoung continued his explanation.

"That means you're growing quicker now, because I'm taller than you and I will grow slower, until we're the same height and then we'll grow at the same speed!"

Scoffing, Saeran let his hands fall to his sides. "You made that up."

"Nope! I read it in a book at the church! It's because we're twins, so our genes will work hard to make us look the exact same!!"

Of course Saeyoung knew that this was utter nonsense and maybe it would've been for the better to just drop that claim when Saeran called him out. However, he knew very well how much Saeran wished to be more like him. Plus, for all he knew, his little brother might actually experience a growth spurt  some time in the future. 

"Let's make a bet!" He offered. "If I end up being wrong, I'll treat you to a bowl of ice cream with as many scoops as you want!"

Saeran's eyes lit up at the idea, before his smile faltered a little.

"What if I lose?"

Saeyoung thought about the question for a moment. Then he said:

"Well. If you lose that bet, not only will you be as tall as me, but I will still get the ice cream for you, except I get to choose the flavors - and we have to share!"

Saeran's smile returns at that notion.

"But I will always share with Saeyoung, even without having to."

A happy laugh escaped the other twin, before he engulfed Saeran in a big hug, almost throwing him to the floor.

As cruel as the world seemed to be to them, Saeyoung thought, at least they would always have each other as they would keep growing - together.

[alohaemora]

Day 1: Molly and Arthur

Numbered Days

Seven stories from the long, tense week between Harry’s departure from Little Whinging and Bill and Fleur’s fateful wedding night.

Or: The Weasleys prepare to go to war.

(Written for @thethreebroomsticksfic's “Weasley Week” fest.)

27 July 1997

It’s well past midnight when Arthur finally puts the lights out in their bedroom and crawls into bed beside her with an exhausted groan. His arm reaches for her in the darkness and Molly gravitates toward it, soaking in the small moment of domestic comfort that’s quickly become a rarity in her own home. Closing her eyes, she wonders if the ringing in her ears is simply the hum of the hundreds of protective enchantments that cling to her roof, or if the knot of anxiety that took up permanent residence in her chest sometime near the end of June is now trying to claw its way out through her ear canals.

“Everything’s set,” Arthur mumbles against her shoulder. “The Polyjuice, the decoys, the Portkeys. Hagrid says the Thestrals have been prepped for the journey. We’ll have him safely out of Privet Drive by tonight.”

“Good,” Molly whispers without opening her eyes. “Hopefully he’ll never have to go back.”

Arthur is silent for a few moments. Then, Molly feels the pillows shift slightly as he gives his head a small shake.

“The boys were brilliant in that meeting,” he says quietly. “Fred and George single-handedly charted every one of our flight paths out of Surrey. And Ron—Merlin, he was so clever, he came up with all of these…”

Arthur trails off as Molly grows stiffer in his arms. She keeps her eyes stubbornly shut, purses her lips against the familiar misery inching up her throat, the telltale burn behind her eyelids. Arthur’s fingers hesitate for a moment, then move up from her waist, gently cupping her jaw, turning her face toward his in the darkness.

“Mollywobbles…”

“It’s wrong,” she hisses, gritting her teeth to keep her voice steady, to contain the insistent lump in her throat as she spits out the words she’s said more times she can count in the past month, the words that seem to disappear into thin air every time she utters them. “It’s wrong—none of them should have been in that meeting. Especially Ron! I fought with the twins every week for a year about waiting until they’d graduated to join the Order. How can we sit back and let Ron—and Hermione—? They’re children, Arthur!”

Arthur lets out a sigh that sounds as though it’s been wrenched from his chest, rattling and uneven. “You know I agree, Molly—but…Ron and Hermione have made up their minds. Harry—”

“—is sixteen,” her voice breaks, and she feels the last threads of her indignation snap, the tears spilling past her fragile defenses. How ironic that she lies here, in this house where security grows tighter each day, when the walls around her heart have never been more vulnerable. “He is a sixteen-year-old boy.”

Read the full chapter on AO3.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Letter- Traveler & OC's mother and siblings

Return to File

Recovery date: June 9th, 2024

Description: Hello, I was reading your Neuvillette's child reader stories and I was wondering what would happen if the traveler and Paimon met the reader's mother during the lantern rite quest because she was in Liyue visiting Eliot and Odette and she shares some fond memories of her children with the traveler and Paimon, nothing embarrassing but more like sweet and simple moments.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. The mother needs a name, but I don't want to name her because it feels like naming her assigns whatever region she's from and I want to leave that open. So I apologize for how clunky some of this is.

Part: 1 2 3 4

Word count: 1 379

Back to directory

Hey, traveler, can I ask a favor of you?

“Let’s see,” Paimon hummed, looking over Sky’s shoulder, “that should be it, right?”

Paimon and the traveler had just arrived in Liyue for the Lantern Rite from Fontain, and were currently running an errand for Y/n. They’d originally been planning to come themself, but had gotten sick and didn’t think they’d recover in time. It was a huge disappointment for them, they’d been looking forward to visiting their siblings for Lantern Rite, but what could they do?

Send Sky and Paimon with a letter is what.

So here they were, standing next to Wanmin restaurant with a map trying to figure out where they were delivering this letter to. Y/n had given them the address of Odette and Elliot’s place, but had been clear the letter wasn’t for them. They hadn’t said who the letter was for, just that the twins would be able to deliver it when they saw the intended recipient. The whole thing was needlessly complicated, and Y/n seemed to find that amusing.

“Are you sure we don’t need to go-”

“Sky, Paimon!” Yanfei’s voice cried out. They looked up to find the lawyer waving happily from one of the balconies overlooking the market. “Hang on!”

She disappeared, rushing back and down the stairs before bounding towards them.

“Yanfei! Enjoying the busy season?” Sky laughed.

Yanfei nodded, talking about how she was working with a few Inazuman merchants to get display permits for their mechanisms. She’s halfway through her story when she notices the map sky is holding.

“Apparently the Tenryou commission is- hey, what’s with the map?”

“We’re trying to find a friend’s sibling’s place to deliver a letter,” Paimon explains, taking out the letter and waving it around. “Actually, do you know two Fontainian lawyers named Odette and Elliot?”

“Odette and Elliot? Ya, we work together from time to time. Are you looking for their place?”

“Yup.”

“What a coincidence, I have some papers I need to deliver to them. We can head over together.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Yanfei led them down a side road towards a nice little place overlooking the water.

“See,” Sky whispered to Paimon, “told you you were pointing us the wrong way.”

They stopped in front of a door, and Yanfei knocked. A muffled voice answered them, then there was shuffling, and finally the lock clicked open. 

A woman they didn’t recognize opened the door, but something about her was familiar.

Sky looked to Yanfei, silently asking if they were in the right place, but she was just smiling.

“Aunty, it’s good to see you again! Visiting for Lantern Rite?”

“I am, my youngest should be here shortly too. You should join us for dinner, in fact, why don’t you come in for some tea?”

“I would love to, but I’m just here to drop some papers off for the twins. Are they in right now?”

“Sadly not, they’re buying stuff for dinner. I can take them papers for you if you’d like.”

“Sorry, I can’t,” Yanfei actually seemed a bit sad about it, “I’ll just have to stop by their office tomorrow.”

The woman accepted the answer, and turned to Sky and Paimon.

“Where are my manners, I don’t believe we’ve met.” She extended a hand and introduced herself before asking what brought them her, and if they were just here with Yanfei.

“Actually, Paimon and Sky were just here to deliver a letter to Odette and Elliot. Since they’re not here, Paimon guesses we can leave this letter with you?” Paimon turned to Sky for her opinion.

Before Sky could respond, a laugh filled the street.

“Looks like we need a bigger porch,” Elliot grinned.

“Sky, Paimon,” Odette greeted. Then Yanfei poked her head around the traveler. “Oh, Yanfei, do you have those papers for us?”

“Yup!” She held them up.

Elliot moved his grocery bag to his hip and took the papers, thanking her for the delivery and asking if she wanted to stay for tea. The lawyer once again declined, then excused herself to return to work.

“I see you’ve met mama,” Elliot said, addressing Sky and Paimon again.

“This is your mother?!” Paimon whipped her head around in shock, making the woman and her children laugh.

“Hey, where’s Y/n?” Odette asked, nudging her brother forward with her foot.

Their mother stepped aside, letting them through to set their bags on the kitchen counter. Sky and Paimon followed them at their insistence. They took seats at the dining table as she fixed them all some tea and brought out some mint jelly. Paimon happily started snacking, barely remembering her manners.

“I’m glad you like it, almost as much as someone else.”

“Mother,” Elliot groaned.

“What? Mint jelly has always been your favorite, at least now you don’t eat it until you’re sick.”

“Mother!”

Odette pulled out a chair beside Sky and whispered, “She’s almost as bad as Xianyun.”

Sky bit back a laugh before remembering why she was here.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled the letter out of her bag where Paimon and returned it to. “Y/n got sick, so they can’t make it, but they sent this letter. We’re supposed to deliver it to you two, but it’s… not meant for you?”

“Always one for games,” Odette sighed, plucking the letter from Sky and handing it to her mother.

“It’s why Lyney and them have always gotten on so well,” her mother sighed, carefully opening the letter, “I remember when they first met. It was so- THEY’RE ENGAGED!”

“WHAT?!” Odette and Elliot exclaimed, nearly toppling chairs as they went to read over their mother’s shoulders.

Their mother pointed at a section lower in the letter, she’d been skim reading it when she spotted the word. The three read in silence before Elliot started giggling to himself.

“Oh how wonderful,” their mother sniffled, wiping her eyes. “My baby’s getting married.”

Odette and Elliot hugged her as she tried not to cry, while Paimon and Sky tried to let them enjoy the moment. It was clear now why the letter was supposed to be delivered in such a  roundabout way, to keep them from being caught in this awkward situation.

They’d already heard about the engagement, Lyney had told them.

“Sorry,” Odette said, turning to Sky and Paimon, “we weren’t expecting big news.”

“It’s alright, we probably should have seen this coming when they couldn’t make it here themself.”

The family settled back in their seats, their mother wiping her eyes again.

“I wish they could have told us in person.” She looked back at the letter, starting to read it properly.

“I’m sure they just wanted to tell us as soon as possible.”

“Oh I knew from the start they would end up married. Remember when they saved all their allowance to get tickets for one of his shows, only for Lyney to give them free tickets? He even brought them on stage for a trick and gave them a flower.”

“The ring is beautiful,” Sky said. “Very elegant.”

“It’s not the ring that matters but the feelings behind it. Once, when Odette was young, she was proposed to with an eroded shell. It nearly got stuck on her finger.” Odette rolled her eyes but bit her tongue, letting her mother reminisce. “Y/n was really upset about that, they threw a fit at the idea of her getting married. Almost as big of a fit as that time Elliot wanted to go swimming in the middle of winter.”

“Why would he want to do that?” Paimon asked around a mouth full of jelly.

“He was too young to understand that the water was dangerously cold, and he wanted to swim. Neuvillette didn’t know how to get him to stop crying so he let him dip his toes in, which only made him cry harder.”

“Really mama?”

“If you ever have kids you’ll understand, the smallest thing can mean the end of the world. Like that time-”

The twins sighed, casting apologetic glances at Sky and Paimon who seemed plenty amused by their childhood adventures. Lantern Rite was, after all, all about family and friends.

Maybe next year Y/n and Lyney would be able to make it.

[nero-vanderwolf]

“Shinjiro? It’s the middle of the night, what-”

“Ken is missing.”

Fuuka freezes, phone slipping out of her hand. It clatters to the floor, and she can faintly hear Shinjiro’s voice asking if she’s alright.

Ignoring it, she rushes to the drawers by her bed, grabs her Evoker and shoves in its holster, setting it on top of the drawers for tomorrow.

“I’m here. I’m sorry for the wait. There’s nothing we can do right now, but tomorrow I’ll gather everyone and we can discuss matters further. You said the Investigation Team meets at the Junes food court, right?”

Fuuka can almost hear Shinjiro’s nod as he answers.

“Yes. If you can summon everyone there, we’ll be there too.”

It doesn’t take an ace detectice to Shinjiro is referring to himself and Akihiko, but Fuuka wonders vaguely if they’ll allow Goro to accompany them. After all, Ken was younger than Goro when he joined SEES, but this is another matter entirely.

Shinjiro sighs, cutting through Fuuka’s thoughts. “You’ve gotta stop going quiet on me. I keep thinkin’ something’s happened to you too.”

Fuuka winces. “I’m sorry, Shinjiro. I just... I’m thinking. Planning. I’ll gather everyone at 10 tomorrow.”

Shinjiro goes silent this time, but Fuuka can hear background noises. Akihiko’s voice sounds faintly as he shouts.

“Shinji! Where is Ken!?”

“He’s missing, Aki. We’re gonna gather everyone tomorrow and look for him.”

“Tomorrow!? Who knows what could have happened to him by then!”

“There’s a good chance he was another victim of those kidnappings. And every single time, they’ve ended up in the damn TV.”

There’s no more background chatter, and the line suddenly goes dead. Shinjiro has hung up, Fuuka presumes, and closes her phone to end the call on her end too.

Now, to contact the others.

It’s exactly 10:15 when Yu-kun comes rushing up to the food court, tugging his jacket on over his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I had to wait for Nanako to get back so she could watch the house- Is everyone else here already?”

He grabs a seat, settles in with the rest of the cluttered group. Yosuke-kun nods. “Yep, you’re the last one, Partner. Don’t sweat it, though. We understand.”

The Investigation Team all nod, grim looks on their faces.

“However,” says Naoto-kun, “the sooner we discuss our plans, the better. We have a large group here, so that means we could potentially make separate groups to spread out and search for Ken-kun in the TV world. We would have to work out who goes with whom, but that can be decided when we get there. For now, we must check the weather report. We only have a limited number of days to save Ken-kun before he is killed by Shadows. Rise, if you would?”

Rise-chan nods. “It’s going to be sunny all week, but the deadline for rescuing Ken-kun is... The fourth. That’s when the fog will set in on our side, and Ken-kun will be lost forever. That gives us two weeks to get in and rescue him.”

Fuuka feels her blood turn to ice as Naoto-kun and Rise-chan mention the possibility of Ken dying. As she fidgets with the Evoker around her waist, she can only imagine how terrified Shinjiro and Akihiko must be.

Goro speaks up. “One thing about the groups. I’m coming with you all.”

Shinjiro responds immediately. “No, you aren’t.”

Goro holds his ground, standing up. “Yes, I am! That’s my brother in there! I can’t stand by and watch! I have to help!”

Akihiko replies this time, desperation on his face. “You haven’t had the proper training with your Persona yet!”

Goro scowls. “Who says?”

Shinjiro freezes. Fuuka glances at the twins, at Mitsuru and Yukari, at Junpei. At Koromaru. But not at Ken.

The guilty party shrink down into their seats, eyes fixed firmly on the ground and table. The Investigation Team.

“You all let him come with you!?” Akihiko demands, and Rise-chan worries her lip with her teeth, eyes sparkling.

“He has the same power as us... We know how to help-” She begins, but Akihiko cuts her off.

“All of you are children! You don’t know how to properly handle your Personas either!”

He falls silent, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Shinjiro grabs one, entwines their fingers.

“...You all could have gotten yourselves in serious trouble thus far. Honestly, it’s impressive that you haven’t. The TV world is still dangerous, but you all seem to know what you’re doin’.”

Rise-chan blinks rapidly, teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Shinjiro reaches over, gently places a hand on hers.

“This’ll all be okay. We’ll save Ken before the fog comes. Then, once we do that, we can help you get a bit of a better handle on your powers. There are some neat things you can do with Personas.”

Rise-chan looks up, and nods once. It’s firm, determined. The others share similar expressions, and the old members of SEES bear expressions similar to that of when they were venturing into Tatarus right before a full moon, grim and determined to get stronger.

Faintly, she feels a connection to everyone. She feels a bond forming, tight and strong, bound by everyone’s determination to save Ken and solve the mysteries of Inaba.

Mitsuru is the one who voices Fuuka’s thoughts.

“Something tells me SEES will end up staying in Inaba longer than we anticipated,” she says with a small smile.

Makoto and Kotone sit up a bit straighter, glancing at each other. There is a shared look of bemusement on their faces. Kotone clutches her blouse. Makoto holds his hand on the back of his neck.

“Something the matter, you two?” Mitsuru asks, and Kotone speaks up.

“...When we sealed Nyx away, we sacrificed the powers of our Personas. We used the power of the bonds we formed to finish it once and for all... So we thought we wouldn’t be able to form any more. Or at least, none with power behind them. But this...”

“It’s the same feeling as before. Whenever we formed a powerful new bond, we had this feeling. Kotone’s chest would ache, the hairs on my neck would stand up. This... This is the same feeling,” Makoto adds, voice quiet.

“A new bond...?” Yukari asks, but Yu-kun seems to understand perfectly.

“Whenever I form one, the pit of my stomach drops like I’m on a rollercoaster. I just had that feeling. I think... I think even though I’m the only one who can get any power from this bond, with my wildcard abilities, you two are still experiencing the effects. Were you wildcards?”

They both nod, and Yu hums. “Then that’s why. Your bodies grew accustomed to the feeling, and your hearts, though separated from their powers, still recognise the bond formed. There are some neat things you can do with Personas. Right, Shinjiro-san?”

Shinjiro hesitates, then nods.

A new bond, formed from determination and empathy. One with power unforetold, unbound by rules.

A Social Link, the Finders of the Lost, of the Judgement Arcana, is formed. And with it brings tidings of new fortune.

OH MY GOD SCREAMAMAMMUNNGGGGG ok WE FINALLY HAVE MORE TO KEN'S DISAPPEARANCE!!!! akihiko would definitely be the one to rush into things. his sons in potential danger? GO!!! RUSH IN!!!! IMMEDIATELY!!!! which is honestly a valid reaction. and shinji, while also scared, is there to calm him down. ALSO YU DO NOT LEAVE NANAKO HOME ALONE IM SCARED WE'RE GONNA HAVE A DOUBLE CHILD DISAPPEARANCE ON OUR HANDS!!!!! also kotone and makoto explanation on Nyx... probably not lore accurate but dont give a shit. the fact they still feel when a bonds been formed... and yu's there like "me too." ALSO THE FINDERS OF THE LOST???? THATS SO FUCKING COOL AND IM AGGRHAHAAAHHHHG

[hayffiebird]

Taste of Strawberries, chap. 43 (part one)

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more?

Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming.

Author's note: Some pretty awful stuff going on in this chapter so: TRIGGER WARNING, just to be safe.

Chapter 43

Between a rock and a hard place (part one)

The party was over.

Haymitch carried the last of the sticky cake-smeared plates over the threshold. Kicked his shoes off with a heavy heart.

Outside, the wind rustled through the branches and balloons. Made them sway. Dance.

It was almost time to get the children ready for bed.

He could see them before his mind’s eye. Back in the living room. With their auntie June and auntie Annabel. The two ladies doing their best to keep up appearances. Pretend like everything was fine. Normal.

He entered the kitchen. Effie didn’t even look his way. Her hands were wrist-deep in water and suds and the pony tail bobbed with each violent stroke of the dish brush.

She’d hardly said two words to him all night. Not since the hipflask incident. Small wonder. If he was smart, he best keep his mouth shut too. Go upstairs. Get the twins’ jammies out. Live to see another day.

Instead, he set the dirty dishes on an empty spot near the sink. There was already a neat stack of dripping plates and mugs and cutlery waiting and he pulled the wash towel off its peg.

Drying one of the sippy cups in slow, precise motions he glanced her way. Each time hoping she’d look back. Or at least throw him a vicious comment. God knew he deserved it!

She didn’t. For several minutes they just stood there. Shoulder to shoulder. Just inches apart. Inches that might as well be miles.

“Eff”, he finally said, voice soft.

She ignored the olive branch, lips pressed to non-existence.

The cloth turned damp in Haymitch’s hands. White fabric sewn with a vegetable pattern. Carrots and lettuce and pea pods. Sae would call it a tea towel. He drew a silent breath. Gathered his courage. Started over.

“Effs, don’t you think you’re just … overreacting … a little bit? I mean, it’s not like he drank from it.”

Not a sound in the room. Nothing but the splatter of water. The clinks and clanks of submerged kitchenware.

”He didn’t get wasted. He didn’t even taste it”, Haymitch went on. “Even if he knew how to work his two thumbs I always cork that hipflask up, good and tight. He was never in any danger.”

He wet his lips. Set the dry plate down. Reached for another.

“I shouldn’t have brought it to the party. You were right about that. It was wrong, I know. But I didn’t put it in my pocket to … Effs, it was just old habit! Not a scheme, I swear! I didn’t drink. Not one drop! And just listen to them out there.”

He gestured toward the twins’ giggles in the other room. “Kids are fine, princess. They’re OK. They aren’t even old enough to understand, or remember, what happened here today. Yeah, it was scary but … if you really think about it, it was no harm, no foul.”

Effie didn’t reply. Nothing. Nothing but the growing red spots on her cheeks. Crestfallen, Haymitch put the plate down. The tea towel.

“Sweetheart”, he said. “Please. Listen to me. I will never … never let my drinking hurt our children. OK.” He touched her shoulder. ”I’d die before that happens.”

Her reaction was instantaneous.

His touch, those words. Might as well be a branding iron. A steel poker. The kind he used back home to shovel coal over in the fire place.

Red, hot, flame-heated metal shoved into her flesh. That’s how hard she flinched. The plate slumped to the bottom of the sink and he staggered back a step when she pushed him out of the way.

“Eff?” She was already at the door. “Effs, wait a minute! Hang on!”

She didn’t listen. Didn’t stop. He followed her into the hallway, just in time to see her put the final shoe on.

“Effs, what’re …?” She flew out the door. Didn’t even stop to close it. “Where’re you going?”

Rain – like cold, hard needles – penetrated Haymitch’s skin when he hurried after her, down the front steps and into the garden.

Effie was already far ahead. Past the remnants of their little birthday scene. Past the edges of the garden, leaving the house further and further behind.

He couldn’t keep up with her. Not after years of abusing his body with alcohol.

“Eff!” He clutched the stitch in his side. Panted as he followed her into the two ladies’ orchard. The meadow beyond. “Effie!”

A bright yellow flash. Followed by a clap of thunder. Low at first, almost indecisive, then exploding overhead. As if the bedrock itself had come alive, moving and grinding together.

“Not so fast, Eff! Please!”

And that’s when he heard her sobbing. Wild, jagged cries that she made no effort to try and hide. She stumbled on her feet, nearly fell and the pink silk hair ribbon which had untangled more and more during the chase, floated onto the ground.

Haymitch slowed just long enough to get it. Grab it, along with a fistful of grass.

“Please, come back!”

“Leave me alone!” Her shriek echoed, travelled across the orchards. The meadows. The steel gray body of water. “Go away! Get away!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart! I’m so sorry!”

“Leave me be!”

Her voice cracked and she staggered. Staggered and slowed. Slowed to a stop.

Haymitch had but a second to relish in the relief; in the fact that she wasn’t running anymore.

When,

“Ugh!” She clutched both hands to her forehead. Moaned. Unsteady on her feet, like a tree in a storm.

“Effie? Effie!” he shouted when she sank to her knees.

He was by her side in a heartbeat. Knelt to the ground, cradled her in his arms.

“What’s the matter, Eff?” The wet grass soaked through to his knees. “You hurt? What’s wrong?”

“I … I don’t know.” Her frightened blue eyes came visible for a fraction of a moment. “It’s like … ahh! Aahh!!”

Eyes squeezed shut, she clutched her head tighter. Body rigid and stiff in his arms, her mouth fell open and a cry of pure agony spilt over her lips. A cry growing louder. Louder, until he couldn’t breathe. Horrid screams he’d never heard from her before. Not even when she gave birth.

The stuff of nightmares. Like they’d both been thrown inside an arena where he’d hunted her down, overpowered her and wielding a knife.

Cutting bits and pieces out of her.

[lismarstclair]

When: 27th of June, 2024 Where: Private Primary School

“Good Afternoon, Ms. Lisette. This is Chloé and Olivia’s school, and we are calling because we had an incident involving your twins and another student. We will need you to come to the school as soon as possible to speak with the headmaster.”

Her heels clicked on the floor of the school in her strides towards the headmaster’s office. What could have happened to warrant a call from the school? They were intentionally vague on the phone, but she would get to the bottom of this before they left. Holding her face tight, she fought against the pain in her knees. Was she supposed to be wearing heels, no, but she compromised in wearing one-inch heels instead of her traditional three. The pain was a now low ache, but with her tensed muscles, her pain was exacerbated. 

“Ms. Marseille-St Clair, we are so happy you could-,”

“Where are my daughters?”

The front office administrator was kind enough; however, Lisette needed to see her girls.

“Of course, ma’am. Right this way.”

Walking around the back of the office and down a hall, Lisette sees her twins sitting in chairs outside of the headmaster’s office. Olivia looked anxious as she fidgeted with the buttons on her uniform. Chloé’s face showed clear anger, but Lisette’s attention was on the ice pack resting on her left hand. Olivia sees her first, and elbows her sister, “Mama! He-”

“Wait,” she tells them before turning to the young woman who guided her here, “Let the headmaster know I am here and would like to speak with him,” given a quick nod, Lisette squats down -pushing past the pain in her knees- and looks at her daughter’s hand, “Oh love, what happened?” she asks slipping into French to keep their talk more private.

“He was running his mouth. This boy, Michael, was trying to say things to anger me and I was tired of hearing it. I was gonna walk away, I swear I was,” Chloé’s explanation came out fast, she wanted to make sure she got her point heard, “But then he said… He said other stuff and Uncle Oliver always said not to let that slide,”

She knew her daughter admired Oliver, but she had not imagined she would model violence, “Said what? What could this little boy have said that would warrant you physically hurting someone?”

Chloé sat still, her eyes looking away from her mother and to her twin who began to speak for her, “Michael said-”

“Ms. Marseille-St Clair, I understand you want to speak with me about the altercation,”

The headmaster’s voice breaks their moment and garners her attention. “Headmaster Williams,” Lisette greets him while pushing up to a stand straight. 

“He said our family is dirty and that’s why we don’t have a dad,” Olivia spoke fast and under her breath. Just loud enough for Lisette to hear. “Uncle Oliver always said family came first and you defend your family. That’s why she did it,” Her two girls kept their heads down, clearly upset. Olivia was likely more upset with being in trouble, but Chloé was still angry about what was said.

Looking back to her daughters, Lisette leaned down and kissed both their foreheads, “Wait here and I’ll be out shortly,”

_____

“I never expected to have to call you in for something like this,” Mr. Williams began, “They are both bright girls and have never had an issue come up before,” The older man sat behind the oversized desk before continuing, “Unfortunately, a situation such as this is a delicate matter,”

“Could you tell me what happened?” Lisette had heard Chloé’s side of the event, but she was curious how the headmaster might present the facts. 

“Well, it is my understanding that their class was outside for a break and preparing to return when Chloé was seen speaking with another student. I am told a few words were exchanged and then she swung her fist in their face. The reporting staff monitoring the class said that they did not see any reason for the behavior,” clearing his throat, Lisette remains silent, “You can surely understand that this matter must be handled swiftly and with the insistence that it does not happen again,”

“I completely agree,”

“You do?”

“I do. What is to be done about the student that provoked my daughter?” His eyes widen behind his thick glasses, and he stumbles over his words. She took this moment to continue, “My daughters, as you pointed out, have no prior issues here. Neither disciplinary or academic. With no record of such behavior, would it not suggest that the other student could have provoked this situation?” her question comes with raised brows. He shifts in his seat while she goes on, “Furthermore, this reporting staff member may not have seen any reason for the act, but did she hear what was said?”

Mr. Williams sits straight in his chair and leans forward on his forearms, hands clasped tightly, before replying, “No. She did not say she heard the conversation, just that she saw them talking,”

“Did the staff member speak with the other student to ask what was being discussed? Did they ask any of the students around them? Did they even bother to ask either of my daughters what was said?” The older man was silent. She never raised her voice, though she wished to scream at the top of her lungs for daring to insinuate that her daughters would behave without reason. “Though I may not agree with her choice of defense, I can understand her outrage over what the other student insinuated,”

“And what was that?”

“Perhaps had you done a proper investigation, you would already know. Instead, I had to hear from my upset seven-year-old that they were told their ‘family is dirty’ and ‘the reason they are fatherless’,”

The older man recoiled in his seat, scratching at his white wire beard. “Now, I will take my daughters home and keep them for the rest of the week. When I return on Monday, I expect to hear from your office administrator that something is being done about the little boy who berated my daughters. Should I find out nothing was done, you will be seeing me again,” standing from her seat, Lisette straightened her blouse and pulled her purse back over her shoulder, “I do hope this is the last time I have to speak with you about this, headmaster,”

_____

Still recovering from the kidnapping, Lisette wasn’t yet permitted to drive, so they traveled in a blacked-out escalade. With her daughters in the third row, Lisette sat in the captain’s chair in the middle and texted on her phone.

“Mama, am I in trouble?”

Chloé’s question was simple enough, but the answer was anything but simple. Of course, Lisette could not actively encourage fighting but wouldn’t punish her for defending herself or her family. She could tell her about 'trying to remain calm' in all situations, but that wasn’t helpful with a seven-year-old. “You are not going back to school till Monday,” It wasn’t an answer, and the girls knew it.

“Because Cece punched Michael?”

“Yes, because your sister punched that boy,”

“He had it coming. He is a rude boy and deserved it,” Chloé firmly believed that what she did was justified. If Lisette were honest, she didn’t mind that she had hurt the other boy. Family mattered most and her oldest was simply standing firm in that defence. 

Lisette sighed heavily and put her phone in her bag, “We can’t punch everyone who speaks badly about our family,” there are not enough hours in the day for it.

“But Uncle Oliver says-”

“I know what your Uncle says!” Lisette snaps, momentarily losing her composure and slapping her hands down on her thighs. Rarely did she lose control in front of her daughters, but Lisette was not entirely herself again. Taking a deep breath Lisette turned her body around to face the girls, “Listen. I don’t disagree with the premise of what your Uncle says occasionally, just the methods he uses to execute his response,”

Chloé and Olivia look at one another for a moment, neither saying anything. Lisette waits for either to speak, but when neither girl talks, she turns forward and runs her hand over her knees. 

“So I am in trouble?”

Leaning her head back, Lisette lets a sigh slowly before replying, “Chérie… You are not not in trouble,”

“Okay,” Chloé hesitated with a trill of her voice, “Am I in trouble enough that I can’t watch TV?”

Smirking, Lisette closes her eyes at the simplicity her children still had, “I’ll think about it,”

The next few minutes pass in silence before Lisette hears Chloé speak again, “That wig looks good on you Mama,”

Chuckling, Lisette looks over her shoulder to her girls with their matching mischievous smiles.

[gloves94]

1891 [Sebastian Sallow] 1

Sebastian Sallow stands accused of the murder of his uncle. With no family or friends, Georgeanna "George" Thomas, is the only one that has not given up on him. George is determined to prove Sebastian is innocent. But what happens when Sebastian's trial turns him into a national sensation? Will George be able to prove Sebastian's innocence and save him from life in Azkaban?

The Daily Prophet

Thursday, June 4, 1891

Hogwarts Student Murderer?

Hogwarts Student at Trial for Murder of Former Auror

By: Oleander Prince

A Hogwarts 5th-year student by the name of Sebastian Sallow stands accused of murdering his only uncle, retired Auror Salomon Sallow. The accuser and main witness that has come forward to report this heinous crime is none other than his twin sister, Anne Sallow.

Ms. Sallow stated in an official report that Sebastian Sallow in fact used the unforgivable killing curse on their uncle. In the statement, Ms. Sallow wrote the intention behind Sebastian Sallow's malevolent actions root from the "obsessive pursuit of the Dark Arts." The accused, Sebastian Sallow, is currently being retained at the Ministry of Magic's withholding cells. Sallow is to be tried on Thursday, June 25 of this year.

You can read a touching memoir about the life of Salomon Sallow and his service to our world as a seasoned Auror, including a few words from our Minister of Magic, Faris Spavin, in the Obituary section.

"Absolutely preposterous!" I folded up the newspaper and slammed it on the counter. Ominis Gaunt's eyes were frozen on my face with a blank stare. I wish Ominis could read this trash himself. I wish he could see the stupid photograph they had chosen for Sebastian.

I saw him take in a deep breath. He brought a porcelain cup of tea to his lips and exhaled after drinking the hot substance. "I did what I could to keep Anne quiet," he said quietly without a hint of remorse.

'Really?' I wanted to say. 'Did you even try?' I wanted to scream at him.

"He might go to Azkaban! How can you be so apathetic? Did you not hear me? Ominis, he's your best friend!"

The thought of Sebastian sitting isolated in a cold, wet cell while Ominis and I sat comfortably in the warmth of his family's lavish parlor room haunted me.

"Was," he corrected coldly. "Was my best friend. Frankly, I have no interest in ever seeing Sebastian Sallow again in my lifetime."

I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. A house elf nudged at my side and raised a dish with a freshly baked croissant. I waved my hand dismissively at the elf. I was too riled up to think about eating or anything else really.

"Ominis…" I gave him a pleading look. Maybe he couldn't see it due to his blindness but maybe he could hear the pleading in my voice.

"This is your fault, George." He said sharply. "You encouraged this. You enabled him to pursue the Dark Arts. And all for what? You see what you've caused!"

"What I've caused?" I repeated. I could not believe what he was saying. His words wounded me. Again, the house elf pushed the tray to my face. Without thinking- I slapped the plate out of my face making the elf flinch. The loud crashing sound of fine porcelain shattering made Ominis head turn in its direction. "So you're saying this is my fault?" I rose to my feet.

"Unbelievable…" I chuckled while gathering my belongings.

"Everything Sebastian did.. Everything was for Anne! The only thing he wants more badly than anything in the world is to cure his sister and this is the treatment he gets?" I licked my lips shaking my head. "You know what Ominis? He would've done the same and more for you. He loves you. He sees you as his brother. He trusted you!" My voice cracked at the end.

It was silent between us. Ominis's expression was unreadable. The only sound in the large room was the poor house elf cleaning up the pasty on the floor and the pieces of broken porcelain. Poor thing, I immediately regretted taking out my anger on him. I raised my wand and cast a silent reparo to help him. The elf looked at me with large fearful eyes, I lowered my head apologetically before turning to Ominis.

"Goodbye Ominis," I said, void of any emotion as I strolled out of the parlor room, down the hallway, and ducked past the large wooden door dodging one of his older brothers. His brother glared at me as I skulked past.

I could hear Ominis calling my name as I left. I hoped never to have to speak to Ominis Gaunt again.

xxx

I apparated in London. Smog covered the sad gray skies, and countless carriages, and men on horses were dragged by the crowded city. The Elizabeth Tower stood a stark contrast to the layout of the grand city.

It smelled like sewage. A muggle bumped into me. "Oi! Watch it!" He sneered.

I shot him an ugly look, he had no idea who he was talking to. I explored the city, trying to smooth my anger. I could not believe that nerve Ominis had, let alone Anne, turning in her brother like that - after everything he'd done for her! Unbelievable!

Sometime later, I entered the Ministry of Magic for the first time. It was a subterranean hallway with emerald green brick and dim lights. It almost reminded me of the Slytherin Common Room. Dozens of witches and wizards passed by dictating notes to enchanted pens or looking at their pocket watches. It was just as busy here as it was in the muggle world.

I found it intimidating being in the Ministry of Magic. This was the pinnacle of government and rules that dominated the Wizarding World. Everyone around me was also extremely well-dressed. I had done my best to put together my best ropes to visit the Gaunt Manor, but it paled in comparison to Ominis robes or other wizards surrounding me.

After asking a woman sitting at an information desk for guidance, I made my way down several pairs of stairs until I reached the area were

Dodging by the passerby I made my way down the stairs to an austere corridor. There was a locked door and a miserable-looking woman sitting behind a desk that I just knew had complete authority over who or what made it past that heavy-looking door. No doubt where the holding cells would be.

"Hello Ms…" I began with as much charisma as I could muster under these circumstances. "Pinch." I read her name tag.

Ms. Pinch looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes, a bored expression on her tired face.

"I'm here to visit a- prisoner?" Sebastian wasn't a prisoner but I couldn't think of the appropriate word. She didn't bother correcting me.

"Only family or next of kin are allowed to visit the withholding cells strictly during visiting hours."

I opened my mouth but she didn't stop speaking.

"If you're here to pay bail you must have a money order from Gringotts of the exact amount that was posted. The order must be made in the legal name of the trial or convicted offender. No pet names, it must be the birth name and surname. No exceptions.." She raised two fingers in between which she held a sickly long cigarette.

"I'm here to visit- my brother." I lied. "Sallow, Sebastian Sallow."

Pinch raised an irritated eyebrow. "Surely you brought identification Ms. Sallow?"

xxx

After an unsuccessful performance that did not convince Ms. Pinch I was Anne Sallow, I was now standing outside of the door from the holding cell. My hand sank into my pocket, I held my wand tightly as I debated if I should use the imperio curse on Ms. Pinch. Just how far was I willing to go Sebastian? But using an unforgivable curse inside the Ministry of Magic… No, I couldn't, it was too risky.

I thought of Sebastian… He was completely alone. Isolated from the world. No family or friends to support him. All of this could've been avoided… All of this was in self-defense. I was there. I had seen him defend us from his uncle's wrath! If Sebastian hadn't done anything neither of us would've made it out of that cave.

"Muggle-Fucking-Troll-Shit.." I cursed angrily and hit the wall with my closed fist.

"Woah, language! Language!" A familiar voice interrupted with a scolding tone. I turned to see someone holding a tower of leather binders with airplane-folded papers hovering over. The binders and documents hid the tall person's face.

"Wait- Georgeanna, is that you?" Garreth Weasley poked from behind the tower of binders.

Garreth's red hair, freckled face, and mischievous smile were unmistakable as he poked his cheeky face from behind the tower of documents.

"Garreth? What are you doing here?" I asked completely taken aback by his presence. "I should be asking you the same question."

I shot him a hostile look. Had Ominis sent him to stop me? Was he reporting on Sebastian's detainment? I thought suspiciously.

"I work here," He explained. "Figured it was a good way to make some extra galleons over the summer holiday. Let's me afford more rare ingredients for my potions."

Merlin. I feared whatever it was that Garreth was experimenting with nowadays. The Gryffindor should not be allowed near any type of cauldron. "Aunt got me the job." He finished explaining with the smile he often wore.

I realized he was looking at me expecting my answer. After all, this was how conversations worked.

"I'm here to see Sebastian. Or at least try to." I sighed, my shoulders slumping in defeat.

"I see." Was all he said. Garreth tried to keep his tone neutral but I could see his distaste as the edge of his mouth turned down with distaste.

Garreth eyed the door behind me. "Real charmer ain't she? Ms. Pinch." He huffed sarcastically. "I've seen a boggart show more emotion. That is what working for the Ministry for 30 years does to a person." He joked. I couldn't help but laugh lightly.

"Even the hero of Hogwarts couldn't make it past Pinch." He clicked his tongue. "Tell you something," Garreth began. I could immediately see his eyes narrow making him resemble a fox. No doubt he was hatching a sly plan in his twisted imagination. "I'll do my best to help you get past Pinch."

My face lit up.

"However-" Garreth raised a finger still struggling to balance the tower of binders. "You owe me one."

I couldn't thank Garreth enough. "Follow my lead. You have your wand?"

I used evanesco and slowly followed after Garreth as he entered past the door to the holding cells. "Good Morning Ms. Pinch!" He said loudly as he wobbled in. "You sure are looking fine this morning ma'am." He flirted with the older woman. Ms. Pinche didn't spare a smile, she shot Weasley a glare. How could she not even smile back at Garreth? I wondered.

"It's you again." She crooned bitterly. "The errand boy." She said in disgust, sounding almost as if she had a personal vendetta against the Weasley. She waved her wand and the heavy door next to her desk opened wide. Slowly, still under the charm of the evanesco spell, trusting I was invisible I followed behind Garreth.

"Not for long. One day I'll be the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."

"I highly doubt that," Pinch said in her raspy voice after taking a drag from her cigarette.

I highly doubted that too. If anything Garreth was the one causing the magical accidents and catastrophes.

Garreth let out a laugh. As he turned to face Ms. Pinch, he stumbled on the back of his shoe falling face forward dumping the tower of leather binders, folders, and paper on top of Pinch and all around her desk. "Oh, Merlin. I am so sorry!" Garreth said insincerely, he turned back to look at my silhouette and pointed his head toward the end of the corridor. With his cue, I scurried away barely dodging a security guard.

I scurried past the corridor looking into the bars of the cells on the floor but Sebastian wasn't in any of them. All of the holding cells were pretty much the same. A small table with a water pitcher, a bowl, a rusty chamber pot, and a torn mattress on the floor. Descending down yet another pair of stairs I continued looking for my friend until I reached the end of the cells.

There he was. The last cell on the left.

Sebastian Sallow was sitting on the cement floor as I had never seen him before. His arms were propped on his knees. His expression was crestfallen and his eyes bored into the floor. His hair was unkempt, clothes were torn and dirty no doubt from the struggle to get him in here. He was miserable. I could see dampness and mold seeping from the ceiling, the old cell bars were rusty and there were no windows.

"Sebastian," I said quietly from a crouching position. He didn't react. "Sebastian!" I said his name a little louder. He turned his head in my direction and I revealed myself to him with a disenchantment.

It took him a moment to realize I was standing outside of his cell. That I was real. That I was here in the flesh. That I was here for him.

"George!" He exclaimed. He moved faster than I'd ever seen him before crawling toward me. "George! By Merlin, I'm so happy to see you!" His smile was so wide. Despite his momentary joy, I could still note the dark circles underneath his eyes... I couldn't help but wonder when had been the last time he slept or smiled. What were they feeding him in this place?

"Sebastian…" My hands tightened around the bars. My knees gave and I collapsed into a sitting position. It had been such a long time since I felt this powerless.

Why was the only thing I could manage to say his name? "Oh, Sebastian." Tears started to stream down my face. "I can't believe you're in here." I cried trying to wipe the rivers off my face with the back of my sleeve. "It-It isn't fair!"

"Hey," He knelt in front of me. Despite his circumstances, his voice was calm, he sounded collected. "Hey, don't cry." He whispered in a comforting tone. "Don't cry," He repeated with so much care. Why was he the one comforting me? He had already been through enough and now he felt responsible for my emotions. His hands reached for my face and he held it for a moment. I could feel his thumb caressed my cheek and wipe away a stray tear.

I looked at him and suddenly felt embarrassed at our closeness at my behavior. My heart began thumping in my chest.

Sebastian's honey colored eyes were still kind. He was still my right-hand man. My best friend. His uncle's death had changed everything but not him. He held my face for a moment. "I knew you would come." I could hear the sincerity in his soft words.

He let go of my face and placed a hand on my arm, another over my hand that was tightly gripping the bar. His hand felt warm over mine. I couldn't help but turn and hold it tightly in mine.

"You were in the Daily Prophet this morning. They've made you off to be a Dark Wizard, your uncle a saint." I spat bitterly. "And Anne-" I choked on my words. "After everything you've done for her." I shook my head. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from cursing Anne Sallow's name.

"Figures," Sebastian said calmly. "Nothing new there, the Daily Prophet glamorizing a story to turn a profit. Did they at least use a good photo of me?"

I wanted to punch him. This was no time for jokes.

"Sebastian. I'm going to get you out of here." I looked at him intensely. I squeezed his hand. "My family is not rich but I'll find a way. I'm going to get you out of here no matter what. Prove your innocence."

"What about Ominis?" Sebastian asked and my heart sank. How could I even begin to explain to him that Ominis wanted nothing to do with him in the absolute. I think he could tell by the desolate look on my face.

"Who's there?" A deep voice interrupted. It was time to go. I jumped to my feet. Sebastian still held my hand tightly in his. His body pressed against the bars pulling me close. The only space between us being the dividing cold metal.

"George. Promise me." He whispered. "Promise me that you'll write."

I don't think I had ever been so close to Sebastian Sallow. I looked into his brown eyes breathlessly. It pained me to see him like this. To see him behind bars, trapped like a rat, and being treated worse than the scum of the street.

"I promise you, Sebastian." I swore to him with every fiber of my being. "One way or another, I'm getting you out of here."

xxx

Chapter 2: Coming soon...

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

Stallard BS bc it’s my Friday night and I’m thinking about Her 💃🕺🏻

She’s 6’00”/183cm tall and a power lifter. Straight black hair that’s she’s been growing out and trimming herself since she was a kid, hits her hips. Born a blonde, went box black after the divorce and burning the house down. One of the only times in her adult life she cries is when it catches on fire and she has to buzz cut what’s left. I don’t think she ever grows it out again.

Her government name is Saeda Make-Sure Stallard II. She’s a junior, and the middle triplet, last one left. Her oldest full twin was Nesta Make-Even, and her youngest sister was Beaurie Make-Off.

Oh god I’m listening to Zach Bryan’s new album fuck me it’s so good.

She was called Little Saeda at home, and her mother was Big Saeda. And Big Saeda has always been too fuckin’ much for the world. She practiced blood magic—whether it worked or not there is horror to making yourself bleed for grasps at power—and her only daughters were covered in scars from learning the practice. Little Saeda no longer practices, she says, but when times are bad, new, neat little nicks and notches show up on her body and she stops meeting eyes with her head held too tall.

Wears gold medallions for Saint Jude and Saint Christopher alongside three gold crosses on two gold chains around her neck. If asked, it’s not for the Trinity, it’s for a thief and two martyrs.

Was raised snake dancing Pentecostal and has wasted many, many years bitter that God never deigned to speak to or through her. She was a tainted, unworthy little girl, just like her mother, even if her twins felt the spirit. She was a thing that God did not have time for, but a thing that the snakes loved, curling sweet around her wrists.

The last promise her daddy ever made her before his death was to not cut up her twins and feed the bits to pigs if she just stopped hiding.

She can do voice impressions. In another life she was a voice actress, but, still, she finds uses for it.

Her big tragedies got out of the way early, making room for a hundred years of life filled with mounting little humiliations. A wind blows through her, her thoughts have long stopped screaming and fallen silent.

The first dance with her ex-husband was set to “I Walk the Line” by Johnny Cash, which should’ve been an omen if she was listening. Everyone worth their fuckin’ salt knows that Johnny Cash wrote “I Walk the Line” for his first wife, while he was out running around on her—fucking, drinking, drugging, and pining for June Carter while Vivian Liberto raised their four girls and read all the fuckin’ tabloids. It was “Flesh and Blood” that he wrote for June Carter, but hardly anyone cares, because it doesn’t fuck as hard.

And apparently, neither did Stallard, because her marriage ended in adultery and over-indulgence by her husband, too. “I Walk the Line” is a cursed fucking song in her hymnal.

Lost her virginity at 22 to the love of her life. Lost him a few years later. But he came back, as risen-dead things tend to do.

Major horse girl.

Nigh’-nigh’!

[aftermathfanfic]

Part 3, Chapter 4

It took around an hour for the adults to explain each of the adventures on the table. First, there was Donald and Daisy’s adventure, which turned out to be an expedition into a medieval tomb, said to contain a silver idol of a long-forgotten deity. It certainly sounded like an adventure the boys and Webby had been on almost a hundred times, but the twins listened enraptured regardless.

Della’s adventure was also quite straightforward, at least in concept. Buried underneath an ancient Spartan city was a vault, within which dwelled a powerful immortal warrior. Supposedly, whoever bested him would be showered with praises worth of a deity, possibly even granted superhuman powers. Though Della did her best to sell it, only Dewey and Webby seemed interested in it.

Then came Mrs Beakley’s adventure, though a more apt term for it was ‘training course’. It was described as a gruelling test of endurance, strength and reflexes, overseen by a hidden society of warrior women. Those who passed were granted an honorary belt of iron and gold, said to magically improve one’s physical abilities. Though June and the boys seemed wary of this adventure, May and Webby both wore expressions that could only be described as ‘wildly enthusiastic’.

Finally, there was Scrooge’s adventure. A grand, three-part expedition that started in the mountains of Spain and ended in the streets of Morocco, all in the name of solving an ancient puzzle that led to a long-forgotten treasure. It was a complicated adventure, and while the veteran treasure hunters were intrigued, the twins seemed to take a minute to really get it.

Once each adventure had been explained, the kids were left to their own devices to decide which one sounded the most interesting to them. They weren’t expected to come to a decision tonight, but they were encouraged to ask questions and clarify on points in each adventure. The family talked long into the evening, retiring to bed only when their questions had all been satisfied.

As Webby was making her way back up to her room through the halls, she heard Scrooge’s voice from behind, “Lass, wait.”

Webby turned around. “Hm?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about earlier…” Scrooge said, approaching her. “I didn’t mean to put you down, but…”

“No, it’s okay.” Webby told him with an awkward smile. “I just… it’s okay. I mean, it’s just a scroll, and like you said, the caves are… like, too dangerous. It’s fine.”

Scrooge looked at her sympathetically. “…I know I hurt you, Webby.” He told her.

Webby’s smile flickered.

“When I travelled with the other team, it… it was selfish of me.” Scrooge explained. “I did it without you kids, and I did it while Louie was still sufferin’. It was wrong of me, Webby.”

Webby looked away, gripping her arm. “…I… I know.” She replied quietly.

Scrooge put a hand on her shoulder, telling her kindly, “Let’s not focus on trying to fix the past and try to make the future better, alright?”

Webby didn’t say anything for a moment. She looked up at Scrooge silently, then wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug. “…Thanks, Dad.” She murmured.

Scrooge returned the hug silently.

After a few seconds, they let each other go, with Scrooge clapping Webby on the shoulder and saying gently, “I’ll let you get to bed. You look tired.”

“Yeah.” Webby said with a short laugh. “Thanks. Goodnight.”

“G’night, lass.”

Webby continued on her way to her room, entering the small library and climbing up the ladder to her bedroom. She walked over to her bed, still messy and unmade, with her phone sitting atop her side table with a cable connecting it to a nearby power socket. As she reached under her pillow for her pyjamas, she turned on her phone, checking for any messages before going to bed.

She froze when she saw a text message icon on her home screen, with the name ‘Britannia’ beside it.

Webby hesitated, staring at the icon apprehensively. Then, she unlocked the phone and brought up the message on the screen.

hey, Pink. can we talk after school tomorrow?

Webby stared at the message for a second, taking a deep breath before typing out and sending her reply.

sure

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

Huey’s bedroom wasn’t so much a bedroom as it was a workshop that had been converted into a bedroom. The room was dominated by what had once been a grand dining table, but was now sectioned off into different workstations, each dedicated to a different craft. One section had piles of schoolbooks and study guides, as well as college-ruled notebooks and a jar full of stationary. The section next to it had a few rudimentary woodshop tools, though there was nothing that would generate clouds of sawdust. The final section was covered by a soldering mat, with boxes full of circuit boards, wires, and other equipment for messing with electronics. Everything was labelled, stored and sorted in an orderly, fastidious manner.

In the corner of the room, almost as an afterthought, was a bed and a wardrobe. A bedside table sat between both, on which was a laptop, a lamp, and a digital alarm clock that read ‘5:58’. Huey laid on his side, facing the alarm clock. He was awake, and had been for a few minutes, but he wasn’t fully alert yet. His head was slightly groggy, the result of an uneasy sleep filled with troubled dreams and memories.

…June lashed out, jabbing the dagger into the mercenary’s side…

If she dies now, it’s because you failed to act. I know you can’t let that happen, because she’s your family…

…And family sticks up for each other, no matter what.

The moment it hit six o’clock, the device started beeping. Huey’s hand shot out of the covers to clamp down on the snooze button, then he pushed himself up and out of bed to get ready.

As if acting to a well-rehearsed script, Huey quickly got out of bed, stretched, and started packing his bag. He didn’t even need to consult his timetable – he’d memorised it, and he knew exactly what subjects he had today. Four notebooks, labelled ‘Home Economics’, ‘Physics’, ‘Woodshop’ and ‘English’, swiftly disappeared into his bag. Then, he took the laptop beside his bed and put it on the electronics section of his workspace, opening it and turning it on. Once the computer was on, he opened up a note-taking app and navigated to a file with the title ‘Tasks for this week’.

The file opened up to reveal seven dot points, with the one at the top reading ‘Physics Homework – finish by Monday’.

“…Ah.” Huey muttered to himself.

He stared at the dot point for a couple more moments. Then, he reached into his backpack and pulled out his physics notebook, flipping to his most recent homework page. He frowned as he realised that he hadn’t gotten far, barely even halfway. He did some quick calculations in his head, knowing that it was Thursday and he had, at best, five days including today to finish it. If he sacrificed the whole weekend to adventuring…

It was doable. It would be tight, but it was doable.

Still… it made him hesitate.

All six of the kids ate breakfast around the dining table, plates of pancakes before them and the maps and adventure plans pushed haphazardly to the end. Even Louie, who usually stayed in bed until the last minute, had joined them, though he looked noticeably more tired than the others. Huey ate in silence, listening to the others discuss the adventures they’d looked over the other night, a notebook beside him containing handwritten calculations on how much time he’d need to complete the assignment on time.

“…I’m just saying that it’s probably not just honour, or whatever.” Dewey was saying. “Like, maybe you get like, a cool title or superpowers or something. Hey,” He leaned forward excitedly as an idea occurred to him. “You could get like, a magic sword from him!”

“I’m hearing a lot of ‘coulds’ and ‘maybes’ here, Dewford.” Louie told him flatly.

“Come on, it’s for the experience of it! The thrill!”

“I need material wealth, dude. It’s the only way I can justify the risk to myself.”

“I think I agree. I don’t think my ego is worth risking my life for.” May said through a beakful of pancakes.

“Then why did you vote for Mrs Beakley’s trip?” June asked.

“That’s different. I get a belt that makes me stronger at the end of it.” She leant over towards Webby, sitting beside her. “Anything that makes us better fighters is well worth it, isn’t it Webby?

“Yeah, sure.” Webby said absentmindedly, picking at her food.

May chewed her food slowly, cocking her head to the side. “…Did you… hear what I said?”

“Uh… not really.” Webby admitted.

“Are you okay?” June asked concernedly.

Webby poked her fork into her pancakes a couple of times, entertaining the thought of eating them but not committing to it. “…I’m meeting up with Lena after school.” She said.

“…Oh.” June replied after a moment of uncertain silence.

“Yeah.” Webby muttered, trying to ignore the sudden attention on her. “I think she wants to talk about… you know. What happened.” She leant forward on the table, sighing, “I’m… not exactly looking forward to it.”

“Do you… want us to go with you, or…?” Huey asked warily.

“I don’t know. Part of me thinks it’s best if it’s just me and her… and the other…” She trailed off.

May swallowed her food, then told her, “Well, if you want some… I dunno, emotional support or something, just ask. We’ll be happy to come along.”

“Thanks.” Webby replied, smiling gratefully. She started to dig into her pancakes properly, saying, “I think we just need to… sort things out. Then it’ll go back to normal.”

“Yeah, she won’t hold it against you.” Dewey told her confidently. “Knowing her, she’s feeling just as awkward about it as you are. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Dewey.”

Dewey chewed absentmindedly for a moment, then leant over to look at Huey’s notes. “What’s this?” He asked, his voice mixed with the mashing of pancake, and Huey winced.

“It’s nothing.” Huey muttered, flicking off a few crumbs from the notepad. “Just trying to figure out the best way to work on my Physics homework. I left it too late, so now…”

“Huh.” Louie cocked his head at him. “How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know… I’ve just been distracted, I guess.” Huey sighed.

“You have Mr Baxter for Physics, don’t you?” Webby asked warily.

“Yep.”

“Ew.” Webby said with a wince. “Good luck.”

“I think you’ve mentioned this guy before.” May murmured. “That’s the sexist dude that teaches your Bio class, right?”

“Yeah. And like, every other science class too.” Webby replied.

“It’s not just that he’s sexist.” Huey explained. “He also has very high standards, and if you don’t meet them, then you’re a hopeless case as far as he’s concerned. And because he’s marking you, that impacts what grade you get.”

June raised her eyebrow. “And you’re worried that failing this one assignment will make you a ‘hopeless case’ to him?”

“It only takes one.” Huey said ominously. He rubbed his eyes and added, “I haven’t even gotten halfway through it yet. Usually, I’d just work on it over the weekend, but I can’t really squeeze it in between our adventuring…”

He sighed again, tapping the end of his fork against his beak. “…It’s a tough one.” He said.

Huey looked at his calculations again, thinking quietly to himself.

“You’re thinking of bailing on us.” Louie said suddenly.

Huey balked. “What?”

Webby double blinked, still chewing on her food. “Whut?”

“Huh?” Dewey leant forward in disbelief.

 “You’re thinking of bailing on this week’s adventure so you can plough through your homework over the weekend.” Louie accused him, leaning forward as he talked. “You already know that you don’t have time to finish it before next week. Knowing you, you’ve probably figured it out the moment Mr Baxter handed it to you. And this whole show you’re putting on right now, acting all ‘woe is me’ and everything, is to butter us up for when you tell us that you’re not going to… wherever we decide to go this weekend.”

Louie pointed at the notebook beside Huey, adding, “Why else would you be doing math on paper in 2024 unless you wanted someone to see it and comment on it?”

Huey looked around nervously at the sudden attention directed at him. Hesitantly, he admitted, “…I mean, I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind…”

“Really?” Webby cried.

“Seriously, dude?” Dewey demanded. “You’d rather do homework than go on an epic adventure?”

“Of course not, but I don’t have a choice!” Huey protested. “I can’t solve Physics questions while running from a rolling boulder trap, I just can’t!”

“So what?” May asked, confused. “You’ve done all your work for it up to now, right? Worst that happens is that you get a B at the end of the semester.”

“…Yes.” Huey said emphatically, as if the very idea should be appalling to everyone.

“…Really?”

“Didn’t you once finish a two-week-long assignment in a single night?” Louie asked. “Do you really need the whole weekend for this thing?”

Huey opened his beak a couple of times, trying to explain himself, but he struggled to come up with words.

He tried not to look at June.

…And family sticks up for each other, no matter what.

“…Look, I haven’t made a decision yet.” Huey told the table. “I’m still weighing my options, and maybe I can finish it before we leave… but I can’t make any promises.”

“But it’s an adventure!” Webby implored him.

“And we’ll have plenty of adventures after this one.” Huey rebutted her. “I’ll only be skipping this one, and after this, I’ll adjust my schedule so that this doesn’t happen again. That’s fair, right?”

The kids looked between each other. Dewey stared at him for a moment, then he relented and said, “Alright, man…”

Webby spluttered, looking toward her sisters. May simply shrugged at her, and Webby deflated, going back to her food with a sullen look on her face.

Louie sighed, telling him, “I mean, it’s your time, you can do what you want with it. I just think you’re overreacting, that’s all.”

“We’ll see.” Huey replied, going back to his pancakes.

He could feel June’s eyes on him for the rest of breakfast.

The mood slightly dampened by Huey’s revelation, the kids packed their bags for school with few words. A few more suggestions were bandied between them on which destination to pick, but nothing was decided on before the gang broke up to go to school. May and June were driven off to Waterview Grammar, while Webby and the boys took the bus to Feathered Hill.

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

For Louie, his school day began slowly. He had a free period immediately after homeroom, which he spent in the courtyard of the school with his laptop before him. He put the adventure out of his mind for now. Huey was free to make his own boring decisions, and Louie wasn’t too fussed about where they ended up going.

For now, he had an artifact to sell.

His initial search results for ‘artifact collector in Duckburg’ were expectedly lacklustre. Most of them linked to online bidding sites and dollar stores that sold replicas, neither of which were what he was looking for. He’d searched a good while last night, but he had only found one relevant place – ‘Nathaniel’s Antiquities’, an antiques shop based near Wildwood.

Louie opened up the link to the shop’s website again, wincing as it displayed on the screen. It looked like a web page from the early 2000s, though the photos that were presented on it looked relatively new. They displayed shelves lined with old China plates and tea sets, antique furniture placed in neat arrangements, and what was advertised as a cutlery set made of actual silver. It looked legitimate, but it also looked like a place that wouldn’t exactly be able to afford what Louie was selling.

Yet, as the bell for second period grew closer and closer, he found himself unable to find anything more promising. He felt a tinge of dread as he realised he’d have to put in some actual effort to find someone.

He felt his phone buzz with a notification. Pulling it out, he saw that he’d received a text, with the sender ‘Kulavaan – DONT TRUST’.

found anything yet?

Louie narrowed his eyes. Then, he texted back his reply.

Its only been one day but yeah

There’s a guy near wildwood mall

More of a novelty shop tho

No sooner than he had put the phone back in his pocket did it vibrate with a notification. Frowning, he pulled it back out to see that Chanda had already sent her reply:

lets go there today

“…Seriously?” Louie muttered to himself. He typed another message.

There’s no guarantee that he can even afford it

A few moments passed before her response came through.

dont care. runing out of time

no harm in trying

The bell rang.

“This fuckin’ chick…” Louie groaned, somehow already knowing it was pointless to argue. He put his laptop back into his satchel and slung it around his shoulder. As he left for class, he sent her one last message.

Fine

After confirming where they were going to meet, the rest of the school day passed uneventfully. Louie went to each of his classes, half-listening to the teachers and putting the bare minimum effort he needed to get by until the schoolbell rang. Everyone went their own separate directions, with Webby going off to see Lena, Dewey off to meet that baseball guy, and Louie making his way toward a different bus stop. He waited there for the bus he’d been told to get, and once it arrived, he jumped on and made his way to the back.

He saw his reluctant partner sitting alone and walked over, taking his seat beside her.

As the bus took off, he asked quietly, “I’m gonna assume that the deadline for your thing is coming up?”

“…Yeah.” Chanda replied. “Payment’s due on the 28th of each month.”

“Which is a week and a half away.”

“Yeah, so if something goes wrong with the payment, there’s plenty of time to fix it.”

“Is that likely?”

“…It isn’t unlikely.”

“…Alright.” Louie sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Do you have it with you?”

Chanda snorted. “Did I take forty grand to school? No, dickhead. We’re on our way to pick it up.”

“Alright, you don’t have to be hostile about it.” Louie grumbled, putting his hands behind his head. “I assume that you go to one of the schools in the western suburbs, then? Considering where this bus is coming from? Which one? Westwing High? Quackmore Public?” He turned to her and added innocently, “Saint Peck’s, the place where all the psycho kids end up?”

Chanda didn’t react to his prodding. She didn’t even flinch.

“Come on, gimme something.” Louie goaded her.  “Let’s get to know each other, break down this wall between us, huh?”

Chanda leaned towards him, saying coldly, “I think you know more than enough about me as it is.”

“Suit yourself.” Louie said with a shrug as she leaned back.

They got off at a station at a mall that Louie hadn’t been to before. It was in Gooseville, one of the poorer suburbs of Duckburg near the Industrial District. Conscious that he could be recognised, Louie instinctively pulled his hood up to hide himself.

She led him around the mall, heading towards a back alley lined with brick walls. Feeling somewhat nervous, he asked, “So, where exactly are we going?”

“Just down there.” Chanda replied, pointing at the end of the alleyway. “There’s a hollow in the wall at the end. It’s hidden in there.”

“Huh. How’d you learn about that one?”

“A guy I worked with showed it to me. Said he used it to hide weed.”

“…Huh.” Louie murmured, somewhat alarmed. “And you don’t think that he might come back?”

Chanda shook her head. “Nah, he cleaned the whole thing out the day he got fired.”

“And no-one else knows?”

“Yes, no-one else knows!” Chanda snapped. “Trust me, it’s safe!”

“Alright, alright, excuse me for being cautious.”

They arrived before a dumpster at the end of the alley. Standing against it and ready to push, Chanda ordered, “Help me move this. Slowly, so it doesn’t make too much noise.”

With Louie’s help, the two of them slowly pushed the dumpster out of the way. It was unsurprisingly heavy, but they didn’t need to push it too far, only a couple of feet before Chanda told him to stop. Louie stepped back, exhaling in exertion. “Whew.”

“It wasn’t that heavy.” Chanda remarked. Near the ground, like she said, there was a hole in the brickwork, just large enough to put a hand into.

“I’m not an athletic guy.” Louie retorted. He stepped back, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Okay, so, when we get to this place, you let me do the talking, alright? You’re the muscle in case this guy tries to rip us off.”

“Got it.” Chanda replied, getting down on her knees so that she was on eye level with the hole.

“We don’t settle for anything less than the minimum. Forty-k, in this instance. Anything less, and we leave and find someone else.”

“And if we never find anyone else because you refuse to bargain?” Chanda questioned as she reached into the hidden space and started searching around with her hand.

“…Alright, fine, but the lowest I’ll go is thirty.” Louie said relentingly. “Any lower than that, and it won’t be worth it for me. Or for you.”

Chanda didn’t respond.

“…Actually, now that I think about it, the chances of getting ripped off are pretty low.” Louie mused. “I mean, everyone in town knows my family, they’ll recognise me on sight. And nobody wants to…”

Louie trailed off, realising that Chanda wasn’t paying attention to him. She was still on her knees, frantically rummaging around in the wall-space. He heard her swear under her breath as she reached for her phone, pulling it out and shining the flashlight in the hole. As she did, she said something else in Hindi, and while he couldn’t understand the language, the panic in her voice was clear as day.

“…It’s gone, isn’t it?” Louie asked coldly.

Chanda pulled out and turned away from the hole. Her eyes did the talking for her.

“O-okay, wait-” Chanda stuttered as she stood up.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Louie groaned, running his hands through his head-feathers. Fuming, he snapped at her, “Safe, huh?”

“Just wait a second-” Chanda told him, turning around and starting to search the alleyway.

“No, no, no!” Louie shook his head, snarling, “You had the audacity to call me a fuckup the other day, and then you go ahead and lose me forty thousand dollars?”

“The guy didn’t tell anyone else about this place!” Chanda hissed furiously. “How was I supposed to know?”

“I dunno! How was I supposed to know that Glomgold was missing?”

A phone ding came from Chanda’s pocket before she could respond. She blinked, then pulled out her phone and stared silently at the screen.

After a moment, she put her phone away, dread and reluctance written across her face.

“…I know who’s taken it.” She mumbled.

“That was him? You know the guy who took it?”

“Yeah.” Chanda replied unhappily. “And he wants to meet with us.”

“Well, then,” Louie said with a nasty smile, mockingly gesturing back the way they’d come. “Lead the way.”

[fanficwriter284]

Remember how I sad I had an Christmas idea since June….well now that I’m finally acting on it. Lol this was just a fun little fic…

All the Rays huddled around the Christmas tree, the twins eyeing brightly wrapped gifts. The two six year olds excited to see what lay beneath the layer of wrapping paper.

“Thanks for inviting us over Chuck”

“Yeah”

“YEAH THANKS!”

“Thank you Chuck”

“Yeah whatever”

“DADDY CAN WE OPEN THEM NOW”

“At midnight Sweetheart”

“…..boo”

They all watched the snowfall, Chucky sipped on some hot cocoa, that may or may not have been spiked.

“Snows pouring down huh?”

“Yeah, we might have a snow in”

“It appears so”

“Huh yeah”

“What does that mean?”

“Lots of snow”

“Oh”

“COOL!”

They all huddled together watching classic Christmas movies, till something was amiss. The air was growing thick, and full of frost l. The wind howling with an eerie glee attempting to force its way in. And too top it off the power went out, leaving all of them in the blanket of darkness.

“Well shit”

“I’ll go flip on the generator”

“You sure? It’s freezing out there”

“Yeah I’ll be fine”

“Better you freeze your ass than me”

“Wow thanks Chucky”

Billy grabbed his coat, and made is way out in to the bone chilling atmosphere. The went to the power box and tried to find some way to turn the power back on. However his attention was grabbed by something moving in the corner of his eye.

“Huh?”

……

“How fucking long is Billy gonna take?”

“Don’t know”

“AHHHHHHH”

“……..was that Billy”

“…..it sounded like him”

“Oh shit”

“Daddy? What’s going on?”

“I—I don’t know….uh why don’t you go with your ma and Glen and grab some flash lights….ok?”

“Ok!”

…..

“Ok what the fuck happened to Billy”

“I’m not going out there…Jig you go”

“…..fine”

The second youngest ventured out into the snow. Searching for young Billy. To find nothing, only the remains of his bright bow tie, and his foot prints in the white snow.

“Did you find him?”

Jig just shook his head.

“Fuck”

“What’s going on?”

“Well you’re uncle Billy’s kinda well….he got lost”

“Lost?”

“We’ll find him”

They all fell dead silent the the loud thumbing at the top of the roof. And faint animal like growls, echoing through the chimney.

“…..Fuck”

“What the hell”

“Oh dear…..”

“Kids stay behind me”

“Stay here”

The three brothers ventured into separate rooms of the house.

“AHHHHHHHH”

“OH SHIT”

“OH NO”

They bolted in the direction of the screams only to find nothing.

“And he’s gone”

“FUCK”

The twins heard the frantic screams and shouting growing frightened by minute.

“Mum I’m scared”

“Me too”

“It’s gonna be ok….”

“Ok we’re getting fucking picked off one by one”

“I can see that Charles!”

“FUCK”

The growling returned filling the house and this time followed by sinister laughter filling the home.

“I’ll head outside and scout the area, you stay here with your family”

“Fine you go, I’ll stay here. But if your ass gets jacked it ain’t on me”

“I’ll be fine”

Jig ventured out searching the white area. Finding nothing.

“AHHHHHH”

“GODDAMN IT JIG”

Chucky’s yell towards his brother was cut short when a long rustic chain, trailed down the chimney.

“Oh shit”

“DADDY IM SCARE”

“DAD!”

Chucky looked at his kids and wife with a concerned look in his crystal eyes. However his face dropped, feeling the metal chain coil around his leg.

“AHHHHHHH”

“DAAAADDDDYYYY”

“DAAAAAADDDDDD”

“CHUCKY”

The redhead was yanked up, hearing his screams fade away.

Before his family could scream the door was flung open, nearly knocking it off its old rickety hinges. Revealing an animal like creature, to the long horns curling inwards to the skull, to its goat like feet. The sharp blood filled fangs, with pieces of a navy black suit.

“AHHHHHHHHH”

“GET AWAY”

The creature approached bending down getting in their faces. Letting out an eerie cackles.

“GOTCHA! HAHAHAHA”

“HAHAHAHA”

“Sorry! It was your dads idea”

“Haha My apologies”

“…..”

“….”

“They really had you going huh?”

“YOU WERE IN ON IT”

“Well you said you two were bored of waiting for the gifts”

“HOW”

“Well Billy did the voices”

“I did the chains”

“And I helped make the noises and move this big ass suit”

“Yep!”

“….”

“…”

“And what do ya know? It’s midnight”

“PRESENTS?”

“PRESENTS!”

“Yes you can open your presents”

“YAYAYA”

“FINALLY”

[jasminelyoko57]

[TWST OC] Octavinelle Freshman

(This OC is only present in my headcanon Yuu Kan’no storyline version)

Attila Fesos

Octavinelle dorm uniform:

Night Raven College school uniform:

Twistune chibi (Made with Picrew by savannyan):

"Oy vey... what a time to be alive."

Age: 17 Birthday: 11th June (Gemini) Height: 181 cm Blood type: AB Grade: Freshman Dorm: Octavinelle

Voice actor/claim: Ono Kensho (Japanese)

A freshman with calm deposition who is praised for his diligence. He often peppers his speaking with Yiddish.

Information:

- He refuses to work on Saturdays for obvious reasons.

- He often says "Oy vey" when exasperated.

- Floyd calls him “Dolphin” (Japanese: Iruka-kun (イルカくん))

- Before working in the evenings, he always does evening prayer first.

- He hates injustices and is willing to betray his own dorm if necessary to side with Yuu and the first year gang. Moreover, he often uses his connections to Mostro Lounge to save them from trouble.

- Despite being a freshman, he is often referred with the honorifics “-san” by his peers, mostly due to his cool deposition (and one of the people who has enough braincells lol).

Signature spell

Attila's signature spell is called The King's Bullet. Its activation incantation is "Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint".

Upon activation, he forms a gun gesture and fire infinite air bullets from his two fingers. He can use this spell by using both hands.

Best moment (from around Chapter 3):

Yuu: "But, Attila-san... what if Azul and the Leech brothers found out that you're siding with us?"

Attila: "Ah, for that, I'll take responsibility. I'm ready for the consequences ahead. No need to worry."

Ace: "To think one of Azul's posse becoming our ally..."

Attila: "I may be an Octavinelle student working at Mostro Lounge, that doesn't mean I'm silent and supporting their dirty practices."

"I've witnessed countless times many students who signed Azul-senpai's contract ended up their magic stripped away and forced into slavery---ahem, I mean, working in such harrowing conditions."

"This time, I've followed Jack-san's way to betray my own dorm to feed Azul and the twins some sense."

Deuce: (amazed) "Woah... Attila-san, you might be the only Octavinelle student I should trust after this."