#All this to say that uh. I hope the strange place they visit in the upcoming se is not a zoo :J

[bonefall]

Don’t know if this is the right place to ask, but could you talk more about zoos? I’ve seen many people say that zoos are inherently exploitative and that we should instead focus on advocating for wildlife preserves, etc., but I’m not sure what to think of that. You seem to know a lot about wildlife protection, so what’s your opinion on this?

There are folks faaaar better than myself to talk about the issues of zoos specifically and I'll try to toss in some sources so you can go and learn more, but let me try and explain my mindset here.

Summary of my opinion on this: BOTH of these things can be poorly managed, and I broadly support both. They should exist in tandem. I am pro-accredited zoo and am extremely sensitive towards misinformation. I also do think the best place for animals to be is in their natural environment, but nature "preserves" aren't inherently perfect. They can also be prone to the capitalist (and colonialist) pressures that less informed people believe they're somehow immune to.

Because of the goal of my project being to make the setting of WC accurate to Northwestern England, my research is based on UK laws, ecology, and conservation programs.

On Zoos

On Nature Reserves

An Aside on Fortress Conservation

On Zoos

The legal definition of a Zoo in the UK (because that is what BB's ecological education is based around), as defined by the Zoo Licensing Act of 1981 (ZLA), is a "place where wild animals are kept for exhibition to the public," excluding circuses and pet shops (which are covered by different laws.)

This applies equally to private, for-profit zoos, as well as zoos run by wildlife charities and conservation organizations. Profit does not define a zoo. If there's a place trying to tell you it's not a zoo but a "sanctuary" or a "wildlife park," but you can still go visit and see captive wild animals, even if it's totally free, it's a marketing trick. Legally that is still a zoo in the UK.

(for fellow Americans; OUR definition is broader, more patchwork because we are 50 little countries in a trenchcoat, and can include collections of animals not displayed to the public.)

That said, there's a HUGE difference between Chester Zoo, run by the North of England Zoological Society, which personally holds the studbooks for maintaining the genetic diversity of 10 endangered species, has 134 captive breeding projects, cultivates 265 threatened plant species, and sends its members as consultants to United Nations conferences on climate change, and Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pit.

Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pit ONLY has to worry about the UK government. There's another standard zoos can hold themselves to if they want to get serious about conservation like Chester Zoo; Accreditation. There are two major zoo organizations in the UK, BIAZA and EAZA.

(Americans may wonder about AZA; that's ours. AZA, EAZA, and BIAZA are all members of the World Association of Aquariums and Zoos, or WAZA, but they are all individual organizations.)

A zoo going for EAZA's "accreditation" has to undergo an entire year of evaluation to make sure they fit the strict standards, and renewal is ongoing. You don't just earn it once. You have to keep your animal welfare up-to-date and in compliance or you will lose it.

The benefit of joining with an accredited org is that it puts the zoo into a huge network of other organizations. They work together for various conservation efforts.

There are DOZENS of species that were prevented from going extinct, and are being reintroduced back to their habitats, because of the work done by zoos. The scimitar-horned oryx, takhi, California condor, the Galapagos tortoise, etc. Some of these WERE extinct in the wild and wouldn't BE here if it hadn't been for zoos!

The San Diego zoo is preventing the last remaining hawaiian crows from embracing oblivion right now, a species for which SO LITTLE of its wild behavior is known they had to write the book on caring for them, and Chester zoo worked in tandem with the Uganda Wildlife Authority to provide tech and funding towards breakthroughs in surveying wild pangolins.

Don't get me wrong;

MOST zoos are not accredited,

nor is accreditation is REQUIRED to make a good zoo,

nor does it automatically PROVE nothing bad has happened in the zoo,

There are a lot more Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pits than there are Chester Zoos.

That's worth talking about! We SHOULD be having conversations on things like,

Is it appropriate to keep and breed difficult, social megafauna, like elephants or cetaceans? What does the data say? Are there any circumstances where that would be okay, IF the data does confirm we can never provide enough space or stimulation to perfectly meet those species' needs?

How can we improve animal welfare for private zoos? Should we tighten up regulations on who can start or run one (yes)? Are there enough inspectors (no)?

Do those smaller zoos meaningfully contribute to better conservation? How do we know if they are properly educating their visitors? Can we prove this one way or the other?

Who watches the watchmen? Accreditation societies hold themselves accountable. Do these organizations truly have enough transparency?

(I don't agree with Born Free's ultimate conclusion that we should "phase out" zoos, but you should always understand the opposing arguments)

But bottom line of my opinion is; Good zoos are deeply important, and they have a tangible benefit to wildlife conservation. Anyone who tries to tell you that "zoos are inherently unethical" either knows very little about zoos or real conservation work, or... is hiding some deeper, more batshit take, like "having wild animals in any kind of captivity is unlawful imprisonment."

(you'll also get a lot more work done in regulating the exotic animal trade in the UK if you go after private owners, btw. zoos have nothing to do with how lax those laws are.)

Anyway I'm a funny cat blog about battle kitties, and the stuff I do for BB is to educate about the ecosystem of Northern England. If you want to know more about zoos, debunking misconceptions, and critiques from someone with more personal experience, go talk to @why-animals-do-the-thing!

Keep in mind though, again, they talk about American zoos, where this post was written with the UK in mind.

(and even then, England specifically. ALL UK members and also the Isle of Man have differences in their laws.)

(If anyone has other zoo education tumblr blogs in mind, especially if they are European, lmk and I'll edit this post)

On Nature Reserves

Remember how broad the legal definition of a zoo actually was? Same thing over here. A "nature reserve" in the UK is a broad, unofficial generic term for several things. It doesn't inherently involve statutory protection, either, meaning there's some situations where there's no laws to hold anyone accountable for damage

These are the "nature reserve" types relevant to my project; (NOTE: Ramsar sites, SACs, and SPAs are EU-related and honestly, I do not know how Brexit has effected them, if at all, so I won't be explaining something I don't understand.)

Local Wildlife Site (LWS) Selected via scientific survey and managed locally, connecting wildlife habitats together and keeping nature close to home. VERY important... and yet, incredibly prone to destruction because there aren't good reporting processes in place. Whenever a report comes out every few years, the Wildlife Trust says it often only gets data for 15% of all their registered sites, and 12% get destroyed in that timeframe.

Local Nature Reserve (LNR) A site that can be declared by a district or county council, if proven to have geographic, educational, biodiversity, or recreational value. The local authority manages this, BUT, the landowner can remain in control of the property and "lease" it out (and boy oh boy, landowners do some RIDICULOUS things)

National Nature Reserve (NNR) This is probably closest to what you think of when someone says "nature reserve." Designated by Natural England to protect significant habitat ranges and geographic formations, but still usually operates in tandem with private land owners who must get consent if they want to do something potentially damaging to the NNR.

Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) (pronounced Triple S-I) A conservation designation for a particular place, assessed and defined by Natural England for its biological or geographic significance. SSSIs are protected areas, and often become the basis for NNRs, LNRs, Ramsar sites, SACs, SPAs, etc.

So you probably noticed that 3/4 of those needed to have the private ownership problem mentioned right in the summary, and it doesn't end there. Even fully government-managed NNRs and SSSIs work with the private sectors of forestry, tourism, and recreation.

We live under Capitalism; EVERYTHING has a profit motive, not just zoos.

I brushed over some of those factors in my Moorland Research Notes and DESPERATELY tried to stay succinct with them, but it was hard. The things that can happen to skirt around the UK's laws protecting wildlife could make an entire season of Monty Python sketches.

Protestors can angrily oppose felling silver birch (a "weed" in this context which can change the ecosystem) because it made a hike less 'pretty' and they don't understand heath management.

Management can be reluctant to ban dogs and horses for fear of backlash, even as they turn heath to sward before our eyes.

Reserves can be owned by Count Bloodsnurt who thinks crashing through the forest with a pack of dogs to exhaust an animal to death is a profitable traditional British passtime.

Or you can literally just pretend that you accidentally chased a deer for several hours and then killed it while innocently sending your baying hounds down a trail. (NOTE: I am pro-hunting, but not pro-animal cruelty.)

The Forestry Commission can slobber enthusiastically while replacing endangered wildlife habitats with non-native, invasive sitka spruce plantations, pretending most trees are equal while conveniently prioritizing profitable timber species.

I have STORIES to tell about the absolute Looney Tunes bullshit that's going on between conservationists and rich assholes who want to sell grouse hunting access, but I'll leave it at this fascinating tidbit about air guns and mannequins which are "totally, absolutely there for no nefarious reason at all, certainly not to prevent marsh harriers from nesting in an area where they also keep winding up mysteriously killed in illegal snares, no no no"

BUT. Since Nature Reserve isn't a hard defined legal concept, and any organization could get involved in local conservation in the UK, and just about anyone or anything could own one... IT'S CHESTER ZOO WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!

They received a grant in 2021 to restore habitat to a stretch of 10 miles extending outside of their borders, working with TONS of other entities such as local government and conservation charities in the process. There's now 6,000 square meters of restored meadow, an orchard, new ponds, and maintained reedbeds, because of them.

It isn't just Chester Zoo, either. It's all over the UK. Durrel Wildlife, which runs Jersey Zoo, just acquired 18,500 acres to rewild in Perthshire. Citizen Zoo is working with the Beaver Trust to bring beavers back to London and is always looking for volunteers to help with their river projects, and the Edinburgh Zoo is equipped with gene labs being used to monitor and analyze the remaining populations of non-hybrid Scottish Wildcats.

The point being,

Nature preserves have problems too. They are not magical fairy kingdoms that you put up a fence around and then declare you Saved Nature Hooray! They need to be protected. They need to be continuously assessed. They are prone to capitalist pressures just like everything else on this hell planet. Go talk to my boy Karl he'll give you a hug about it.

"Nature Preserves" are NOT an "alternative" to zoos and vice versa. They do not do the same thing. A zoo is a center of education and wildlife research which displays exotic animals. A nature preserve is a parcel of native ecosystem. We need LOTS of nature preserves and we need them well-managed ASAP.

We could never just "replace" zoos with nature preserves, and we're nowhere near the amount of protected ecosystem space to start thinking of scaling back animals in captivity. Until King Arthur comes out of hibernation to save Britain, that's the world we live in.

An Aside

My project and my research is based on the isle of Great Britain. The more I learn about the ecosystems that are naturally found there, the more venomously I reject the old lie, "humans are a blight."

YOU are an animal. You're a big one, too. You know what the role of big animals in an ecosystem are? Change. Elephants knock over trees, wolves alter the course of rivers, bison fertilize the plains from coast-to-coast. In Great Britain, that's what hominids have done for 900,000 years, their populations ebbing and flowing with every ice age.

Early farming created the moors and grazing sheep and cattle maintain it, hosting hundreds of specialist species. Every old-growth forest has signs of ancient coppicing and pollarding, which create havens for wildlife when well-managed. Corn cockle evolved as a mimic of wheat seeds, so farmers would plant it over and over within their fields.

This garbage idea that humans are somehow "separate" from or "above" nature is poison. It's not true ANYWHERE.

It contributes to an idea that our very presence is somehow damaging to natural spaces, and to "protect" it, we have to completely leave it alone. NO! Absolutely NOT! There are places where we have to limit harvesting and foot traffic, but humans ALWAYS lived in nature.

Even the ecosystems that this mindset comes from rejects it, but this shit doesn't JUST get applied to British people who become alienated and disconnected from their surroundings to the point where they don't know what silver birch does.

It's DEADLY for the indigenous people who protect 80% of our most important ecosystems.

It's a weapon against the Maasai people, stopped from hunting or growing crops on their own land. It's violence for 9 San hunters shot at by a helicopter with a "kill poachers on-sight" policy, as one of the world's LARGEST diamond mines operates in the same motherfucking park. The Havasupai people are kept out of the Grand Canyon that they managed for generations because they might "collect too many nuts" and starve squirrels, Dukha reindeer herders suddenly get banned from chopping wood or fishing, and watch wolves decimate their animals in the absence of their herding dogs.

It's nightmare after nightmare of human displacement in the name of "conservation."

That all ties back to that mindset. This idea that nature is pure, "pristine," and should be totally untouched. There are some starting to call it Fortress Conservation.

You can't begin to understand the criticisms of modern conservation without acknowledging that we are still living under the influence of capitalism and colonialism. Those who fixate on speaking for "animals/nature/trees who don't have a voice" often seem to have no interest in the indigenous people who do.

Listen. There's no simple answer; and the solution will vary for each region.

Again, my project is within the UK, one of the most ecologically devastated areas in the world. There are bad zoos that the law allows a pass. There are incredible zoos that are vital to conservation, in and outside of the country. There's not enough nature preserves. The best ones that exist are often exploited for profit.

I hope that my silly little blog sparks an interest in a handful of people to understand more about their own local ecosystems, and teaches folks about the unique beauty even within a place as "boring" as England.

But, my straightforward statement is that I have no patience for nonconstructive, broad zoo slander that lumps together ALL of them, and open contempt for anyone who tries to sell nature preserves like a perfect, morally superior "alternative." We need them BOTH right now, and we need to acknowledge that zoos AND preserves have legal and ethical issues that aren't openly talked about.

[skrunksthatwunk]

good news: next piece is a saejima cat-related comic

bad news: i uh. i don't know how to draw cats skull emoji

[a-hazbin-reader]

I just found your blog today and OUUUGHHH ALL THE X READERS ARE SOOO GOOD? ESPECIALLY THE PLATONIC ONES? WE LIVE FOR THE CHAOTIC Y/N <3 FUCK EM UPPPP <333

If you're looking for ideas, what about a reader that is friends with both Rosie and Alastor and notices that the reader is catching feelings for Alastor? I think she'd be support them, maybe poke Alkastor since he's not likely to get the hint wioth reader not saying it directly lol

Thank you for considering and I hope you're having fun out there! Ur favs loooove yooou <33

This is just so adorable????

Rosie X Reader Headcanons

Plus a little Alastor X Reader too

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Reader being BULLIED with affection, Rosie interferes with everything, Romantic Alastor X Reader

Description: ☝️⬆️

Rosie claims that matters of the heart are her specialty, and who is anybody to disagree with her??

She is quick to identify what someone is feeling and her friends are no exception to the rule

So when she notices you're starting to act strangely around your mutual friend Alastor...she's quick to figure out what's going on with you

You and Alastor are having drinks together and you're laughing a little too much?? Cheeks a little too pink?? Oh she saw that

Alastor is singing and dancing?? Rosie couldn't help but notice that you were completely enraptured by him, hanging onto every moment

You also happen to have a bad habit of looking away whenever Alastor compliments you, trying to hide a blush perhaps?

Well aren't you just adorable

Now Rosie won't corner you or anything like that, she won't pry the truth out of you even if she's dying to

But she does kind of trick you into admitting you're feelings to her, inviting you out for the day and slyly bringing Alastor up

You're so cute when you're flustered and choking on your drink

"Now now~ There's nothin' to be embarrassed about! Just let Rosie know what you're feelin' and she'll sort it out for ya!"

She's so good to you

"I guess my head has kinda been all over the place lately..."

Rosie slowly gets the truth to come out of you, and boy, is she pleased as punch to find out you're falling in love with Alastor

All Rosie wants is her two friends to be happy and if she can make it happen?? She'll make it happen, she's putting all her cards on the table for this one

She promises you that she won't tell your secret or intervene in any way

But she forgot to tell you that her fingers were totally crossed

Rosie tries to start out small and subtle, even visiting the hotel and getting the others involved

Suddenly everyone is talking about you and how talented you are, how lovely you always look, what you did today

"Y/N, look at that outfit! You look fucking hot today!"

"Uh..thanks Angel..?"

Charlie and Vaggie are always pairing you and Alastor together for anything they can think of

Niffty has suddenly taken to tripping you in front of Alastor but you needn't worry, he always catches you

Husk tries to stay out of it initially but even he gets caught up in it, admitting you two would be good together

Even random people on the street are giving you extra attention whenever you're out with Alastor

Alastor can't seem to get you out of his head all of a sudden, can't shake the intrusive thoughts of you

No matter

When being subtle doesn't work then Rosie switches gears, taking a page out of Niffty's book

No she's not going to trip you

Finds excuses to have you run errands for her, somehow always leading you to bumping into Alastor

And Alastor, ever the gentleman, always walks you back and keeps you company along the way

He finds himself getting more and more fond of you, more so than he was before, he feels a little strange

Finds himself wanting to be closer to you, seeing you in a different light than before, were you always so pretty to look at???

Rosie is pleased with her progress but annoyed by the fact that Alastor still hasn't taken a hint and that you still haven't confessed

That's fine, she's got ways

She starts having flowers and little gifts sent to you when she knows you're with Alastor, faking a secret admirer

Oh he doesn't like that

Alastor feels something ugly twist in his gut when he sees your face flush as you delicately pick at the flowers, flattered

After the fourth gift that was sent to you Alastor started to get more than annoyed, trying to figure out who was taking up your attention

Imagine his surprise when the paper trail leads back to Rosie

Okay now he's legitimately worried about losing you, Rosie is a smooth she-devil

"Alastor! What brings you here-"

"I know what you've been up to, my dear."

Rosie isn't nervous, but she's definitely surprised that he figured her out, she was only trying to help you out

Alastor skips all the pleasantries and immediately just asks her if she's trying to court you

Oh...so he got it wrong...that's hilarious

"Oh my stars~! No no no~!" She literally can't stop the laughter at this point

Now Alastor is confused, why was she pretending to be your secret admirer then?

Rosie tries to lead Alastor to his own conclusion about why she did it but all of a sudden he's turned into an idiot

She really doesn't want to out your secret

But she also has been working towards this for months now

So she blurts out the fact that you're in love with him and that she's been trying to set you both up together this entire time and it feels so good to let it all out and-

Alastor simply holds a hand up to stop her, looking a little overwhelmed by the news but Rosie also detects a hint of relief??

Maybe he did grow an extra soft spot for you after all??

After confirming with Alastor that you did indeed explicitly tell her that you fell for him, Rosie watches him leave

She also refuses to apologize for interfering in his love life, a girl has gotta look out for her friends

She honestly doesn't know which way things are going to go but is pleasantly surprised when you give her a ring the next day

"Rosie! Are you free today? You won't believe what happened last night! I can't wait to tell you!"

They should call her Cupid from now on

She always hounds you for the details on your dates and is always giving Alastor tips on what you would like

"Come now, was snuggling really all you two did after dinner?"

"R-ROSIE-"

"Oh Alastor, you should really get those earrings for Y/N~! They would absolutely sparkle on them~!"

Tells everyone that she's the reason you two are together, she's just so proud of herself

She wants to plan your wedding for you

WOAH

This one was such a cute idea!! I really hope it's what you wanted!!

[reareaotaku]

Can I request Yandere gravity falls with bored reader who would jump to different alternative universe for the fun of it, unknowingly that everyone become very attached to them? (This can be romantic or platonic)

Reader is from the monster falls universe btw and currently visiting gravity falls (The og universe)

I hope this make sense👍

If my request too complex, you don't have to do it

Holy shit- I love this idea. I could literally write a whole story this

[I was going to have where reader jumps into the body of herself in alternate dimensions, but I decided not to...]

Pt II: _____ | Pt III: _____

All the people of Gravity Falls were monsters. At least, in your dimension they were. You weren't like that though- You looked... different than the creatures. You were a shapeshifter that's able to jump different dimensions. The shapeshifting was when you jumped into another universe, your body morphed to fit the dimensional plane.

You liked traveling different places. It was fun, while still staying familiar territories. You didn't stand out, so you can do anything you wanted and explore to your heart's desire. That was until you got to Gravity Falls- it was relatively strange... The creatures that hid in this Gravity Falls fit more in with the other dimensions you've been to then the actual people. They had no special abilities or anything.

You went exploring the town, but you had to be honest- This place was boring as hell. You sighed as you walked around the town, not watching where you were going and accidentally bumping into someone.

You were quick to apologize, before taking a good look at the man you had run into. He looked an awful like Dipper.

"I'm sorry," He begins, closing his book. "I wasn't paying attention." He puts out his hand, "I'm Dipper. You're not from around here, are you?"

"Uh, not necessarily. Maybe you could show me around?"

"Uh," He looks down at his book. Dipper realized that a pretty girl was asking him to show him around. He had to take this chance, especially since he knew the coolest things about Gravity Falls. "Yeah. I can show you around."

---

Dipper was exploring a pond that was located near the cave of the three-headed bear. He had realized that the pond wasn't normal. He looked at his reflection, but instead of seeing himself, he saw a creature- that looked like him, but also a deer?

He went to put his hand into the pond when there was a long CRACK. He looked back, but didn't see anything. He stands up and slowly goes towards the noise, only to be surprised when seeing a person crouched down.

He knew it was creepy to spy on someone, but this wasn't someone. This was different...

The creature stands up and h/l [Hair length] h/c hair flowed down and he realized it was a girl when she turned around. She looked just like him- Not like-like him, but human, though Dipper's monster radar was going off hardcore. He'd have to learn more about who and what this girl was.

---

"So, what brings you to Gravity Falls?" Dipper asks, while putting his book into his handbag. NOT a purse, but a handbag.

"Uh... What can I say. It reminds me of home," You chuckle at your joke, but Dipper was clearly confused. "I didn't tell you my name. I'm Y/n."

"Y/n? That's a nice name."

"It's definitely something. Is there anything fun to do in Gravity Falls."

"Depends. What do you like to do?"

You hum, before looking over at him, smiling, "Do you... Have any supernatural stuff?"

Dipper considered his words, humming to himself. "Well, depends. Am I looking at one?"

You turned to him not only confused, but taken aback by his bluntness. "I'm sorry."

"I saw you in the forest."

"Oh.." You laugh. "Yeah? What did you see."

"I know you're not... like me."

"How does that make you feel?"

He smiles, "Curious." He digs in his bookbag, before grabbing the journal he had been carrying before. "I want to know everything."

[kikyoupdates]

For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

previous | story masterlist | next

Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

Today, he made up his mind to pay a visit to the so-called 'strongest' sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. He wanted to witness the pinnacle of jujutsu for himself. To see, with his own eyes, what someone truly blessed—in all the ways he isn’t —can amount to.   

Toji was already surprised that Satoru took note of him. Never in his life has anyone else been able to do that. It seems it really is true. That a mere child possesses power beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. However, right now, he’s surprised for a different reason entirely.   

And of course, that reason is you .   

Toji blinks. He can’t help but wonder if he must be imagining things. It wouldn’t make much sense otherwise. There’s no rational explanation for what’s happening. Did some strange little girl seriously just walk up to him and ask for his help?   

“What,” Toji simply replies. It’s not even really a question. Rather, he’s in disbelief. And you’re still standing in front of him, looking up at him with hope and admiration.   

To be honest, no one has ever looked at him that way.  

“I want to become strong, just like you,” you repeat, and even now, your smile shows no signs of disappearing. “Since you don’t have any cursed energy, by any chance, do you… fight using cursed tools? Because I’d like to try learning how to use them as well. I’ve been looking for someone to help train me.”   

Satoru gapes at you. “Uh, [Name]? What are you saying? You can’t just ask some random weirdo to train you! We don’t even know who he is!”   

“It’s not nice to call people weirdos, Satoru. Especially when you barely know them.”   

“Either way, he’s still a stranger! Why did you even walk up to him in the first place? You’re seriously crazy!”   

Toji blinks yet again. Is this… some kind of joke? A comedy routine? Standing right in front of him is Gojo Satoru, hailed as the pride and joy of the jujutsu world. Even as young as he currently is, he can go head-to-head with the most formidable, elite sorcerers—and not only that, but he’d win .   

A few moments ago, Toji felt a chill in the air, and it wasn’t due to the cold winter breeze. When Satoru turned towards him, with those eerie, piercing blue eyes of his, Toji immediately felt inferior. Even more so than he already did. He’s not the type to get intimidated, and yet, there was no denying the sheer pressure behind that young boy’s gaze.  

Except now, that pressure is gone.   

All Toji sees is two stupid, bickering kids.   

“We’re leaving,” Satoru grits out. He glares pointedly up at Toji, still with his little arms wrapped around you, and the expression he makes is juvenile, or rather, childish . Because technically, he is a child.   

Toji just stands there with a frown. He’s heard of Gojo Satoru, of course, but he has absolutely no idea who you’re supposed to be. A relative, perhaps? Or a friend? But you just said that you’re not strong. That’s why you want to get stronger. Would the Gojo Clan really permit their prized jewel to waste time frolicking with some talentless little brat?   

“I can’t leave yet,” you insist. Satoru tries to pull you along, but you root your feet firmly into the ground, making it clear that you’re not going anywhere. Then you look back at Toji and smile once again. “What do you say, mister? Would you be willing to help train me? I’m [Name], by the way. What’s your name?”   

“Stop it!” Satoru fumes. “You shouldn’t go around telling strangers your name!”   

“But you already said my name earlier, and he obviously heard it. Silly Satoru. Always getting worked up for no reason. Don’t worry, I got this. Just watch and learn.”   

You grin confidently, and Toji can’t help but marvel at your idiocy. Or perhaps it’s lunacy. Either way, it doesn’t make much of a difference.   

“No,” he replies, watching as your expression drops. “Why should I train some brat I just met? You must have lived a very sheltered life until now, if you feel comfortable going around asking others for favors.”   

Satoru furiously grinds his teeth together. “How dare you. You don’t know anything about her. Rotten old fart. [Name]’s life has been anything but sheltered. If you don’t shut up, I’ll kick your ass.”  

“I’m nowhere near as old as you seem to think I am,” Toji scowls.   

Whatever. He’s had enough foolishness for one day. He already did what he set out to do. He came here to steal a glimpse of Gojo Satoru, and all it did was sour his mood even more. He’s better off walking away before he loses his temper.   

And so, he leaves. Or at least, he tries to.   

You’ve grabbed onto his arm and are refusing to let go.   

“Please at least hear me out, mister,” you insist. Toji stares down at you in stark disbelief, and meanwhile, Satoru outright gasps. Honestly, he kind of looks like he’s about to pass out. Your never-ending antics really aren’t good for his heart.   

It’s absurd. Two little kids are basically playing tug-of-war at Toji’s expense. Of course, he could push you back with ease, although something tells him the strongest jujutsu sorcerer wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Which just makes it even more tempting, truthfully. Toji already resents the world of jujutsu as it is. Perhaps purposefully angering Gojo Satoru, even at the risk of his own life, might give him some relief.   

He could do it. He could pick a fight if he really wanted to. Also, there’s no guarantee he’d lose. Maybe he should give it a try. If he were to somehow win against this spoiled brat who’s been blessed with everything he could ever dream of… maybe finally, the Zen’in Clan would acknowledge him.   

The longer Toji stares into Satoru’s pale, blindingly blue eyes, the more he feels like testing his luck. The more he itches to bring the world of jujutsu sorcerers, and everything it stands for, crumbling into pieces.   

But he doesn’t.   

Your next words resonate with him more than he could ever have imagined.   

“My family hated me because I was so weak,” you say, keeping your little hands tightly wrapped around Toji’s arm as you stare up at him, gaze solemn and determined. “They told me I was worthless, and that I would never amount to anything. My dad beat me really badly one day because he was so embarrassed of me. I’m sure it would have kept happening if Satoru hadn’t offered to let me live with him instead. I might not have zero cursed energy, like you, but I barely have enough to qualify as a sorcerer, and everyone always looks down on me for it. I think it’s unfair how some people get judged and cast aside, before they get the chance to prove themselves. Even if you don’t have any cursed energy, it’s obvious to me that you’re really strong. And it makes me feel like I could maybe be strong one day, too. I know it probably sounds like a hassle, but is there even a chance you might consider it? I could—oh, I know! I could pay you. Would you do it then? If I paid you enough?”  

Yet again, Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

“Um… unfortunately, this is all I have on me right now.” You dig into your yukata and pull out a few wrapped candies, then gently place them into Toji’s open palm. He blinks, incredulous, as you smile once more. “I’ll pay you with real money, of course. Think of these candies as a promise, or like a down payment. I live with the Gojo Clan, and they’ve got a lot of money. If you agree to help train me, you might even become rich.”   

Satoru’s jaw couldn’t possibly be hanging any lower. “[Name], what the hell? I just told you to leave this geezer alone, and now you’re saying you’re going to pay him?!”  

“Well, I wouldn’t be the one paying, technically. Your relatives would.”   

“And you’re just assuming they’ll go along with this?!”   

“Maybe. If you do a good job of convincing them.”   

You grin widely. Toji is quickly realizing that you’re a cheeky little brat, and apparently, even Gojo Satoru doesn’t quite know how to handle you. Not that it stops him from trying, though. Satoru grits his teeth as he struggles to pull you back. He must be consciously avoiding using his cursed energy, so as not to hurt you even a little. But without it, he’s physically no stronger than an ordinary seven-year-old kid. It also doesn’t help that you’ve latched onto Toji with seemingly all the strength you can muster.  

God. This situation is so ridiculous, it’s almost laughable.   

“I’m not going!” you insist, burying your face in the sleeves of Toji’s kimono as he sighs irritably. “You can’t make me, Satoru! I need to hear how this nice mister responds first! And even if he says no again, I’m going to stay here until I change his mind!”   

Toji knits his brows together. “Aren’t you jumping to conclusions by assuming I’m nice?”  

“Oh. Maybe. But I like to try and stay optimistic,” you beam.   

 “It’s called being dumb , not optimistic,” Satoru grimaces. “We seriously need to go , already! You’re taking things too far!”   

He must have just mustered up the nerve to strengthen himself using cursed energy, because finally, he manages to pull you away from Toji. You stumble backwards, losing your balance in the process, but Satoru catches you in his arms and holds you tight, refusing to let you break free again.   

Strange. Toji always imagined that the strongest would be elevated above everyone else, detached from reality, seemingly in a world of their own. Like some kind of deity, so to speak. At least, based on the way that everyone seems to worship him.   

But he’s actually… surprisingly human. He has someone he cherishes deeply and strives to protect.   

Toji isn’t quite sure whether that makes him feel better or worse.   

“You’re awfully chatty, even for a kid,” Toji remarks. He stares down at the candies you just placed in his hand, but rather than handing them back to you or tossing them aside, he just shrugs and places them in his pocket. “You asked what my name was, didn’t you? It’s Zen’in Toji. You and that boy both belong to the Gojo Clan, so you must understand what this means. Our clans despise each other. Even if I agreed to help you, do you really think they would allow such a thing?”   

Right. You remember that was briefly touched on in the series. It had something to do with the former clan heads having killed each other in the past. The Gojo Clan and the Zen’in Clan have some particularly bad blood between them.  

Then again, the past is the past. What’s done is already done. There’s no point in worrying about something you can’t change.   

You must constantly face forward, towards the future .   

Toji can’t possibly understand it, and neither can Satoru, for that matter, but it’s okay. You’ve already decided that this will be your burden to bear. So, yeah. You could care less about a petty feud between clans. It’s nowhere near enough to deter you or keep you from accomplishing what you’ve set out to do.   

“Yeah. I’ve heard about it. I know that the Gojo Clan and Zen’in Clan don’t like each other,” you say.  

Toji nods. “Good. So, that means you understand how—”   

“I don’t really care, though.”   

“...what?”   

“I don’t care,” you repeat, and Toji can’t help the way his eyes widen. “How is it my fault that something like that happened a long time ago? It’s not like I was involved. It’s not like any of the people still alive today were involved either. Honestly, most jujutsu sorcerers are stupid. They care about stupid things and look down on others just because they don’t align with what they think is right. They can be upset if they want to be. I’m not trying to become stronger because I want anyone’s approval. I’m doing it because it’s important to me. So that I can protect the people I care about and make a difference. Even if others still consider me to be weak, based on their first impression of me… it’s fine. Because I’ll know they’re wrong. And that’s enough.”   

It really is absurd. What are you, six, seven years old? You’re just a kid. You’re supposed to be naive and ignorant to the harsh reality of the world.   

Yet, ironically, you sound more mature and clear-minded than any of the shitty, elitist adults Toji has ever known.   

This time, he really can’t help it.   

He laughs.   

“Haha… ha!” Toji throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as the laughter rumbles up from deep inside his belly. It’s honestly cathartic. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. In fact, he can’t remember the last time he laughed at all .   

Satoru pulls you even further back and shudders. “Ugh. This guy seriously gives me the creeps. [Name], I’m telling you, he’s bad news.”   

“If he wanted to hurt me, I’m sure he would have already done it by now,” you shrug.   

“What kind of reasoning is that…?”   

“Ah, that’s funny,” Toji keeps on laughing. He pauses to wipe the small tears that have formed in his eyes, then grins. “I didn’t know kids could be so entertaining. You seem much smarter than I initially gave you credit for. You’re probably smarter than the entire Zen’in Clan. Those bastards can’t even tell the difference between a head and an ass.”   

“Now he’s even comparing heads and asses,” Satoru whispers in your ear. “I’m starting to think he might be a pervert, too.”   

Toji slowly turns away. “Don’t change your way of thinking. It’d be a shame. You’re right that jujutsu sorcerers are all a bunch of idiots. This whole world they’ve built up is a joke. Like you said, they refuse to acknowledge anything that doesn’t align with their own beliefs. They’re all pathetic, narrow-minded scum.”   

Wow. Is Toji really venting to you right now? Meeting Satoru was one thing, but surely, you could never have been prepared for something like this .   

It makes you happy, though. If it brings him even a little bit of relief, you’ll gladly listen to him complain, over and over again.   

“Goodbye, strange little girl,” Toji chuckles. “[Name], you said? I’ll remember it. This day turned out to be unexpectedly amusing.”   

“Oh. You’re leaving? But… you never answered my question,” you frown. “Will you help train me? Or at the very least, will you try to consider it?”   

Toji is already walking away, waving you off with the back of his hand, and Satoru will be damned if he lets you chase after him again.   

Still, all things considered, this encounter went a lot better than you thought it would. It was a long shot anyway. At least you tried.   

What you don’t realize, however, is that Toji is still thinking of his meeting with you, even by the time he returns back to the Zen’in estate. He remembers your words from before, and as he passes by several clan members, somehow, their scornful looks don’t bother him quite as much as they used to.   

It’s a momentary reprieve, but he’s grateful for it.   

“Are you… Toji?”   

Toji turns his head. He’s sitting out in the courtyard, and a child has just walked up to him. He seems to be having lots of encounters with children today, for whatever reason. Although this child isn’t entirely unfamiliar to him. He recognizes him based on his appearance. After all, he’s the one rumored to take over as the leader of the clan one day. The youngest son of Zen’in Naobito. Naoya.  

Toji doesn’t bother responding. He just stares at him, with a sharp, unwavering gaze, and Naoya immediately freezes up.  

Truth be told, Naoya came here to mock Toji. He planned on finally seeing for himself what the infamous man with no cursed energy was like. He wanted to get a glimpse of his sad, pitiful expression. To ridicule someone weaker than him.  

Except Naoya can’t seem to do that, because just by looking at Toji, he can tell.  

This man is strong .   

Toji eventually turns away, still without uttering a single word, and Noaya watches as Toji pulls out the candies you handed him earlier. He stares at them, then chuckles. He isn’t unwrapping them to eat them or anything. It’s also strange that the coldness in his gaze has suddenly disappeared. His expression looks a bit more gentle now.   

Naoya swallows the lump in his throat and awkwardly approaches. “Is that candy? Do you… like sweets?”   

“Hm? No, not really.”  

“Oh. Then what’s the candy for?”   

Toji continues staring down at the palm of his hand. The silence feels unsettling to Naoya, especially because of the immense pressure Toji constantly exudes, but eventually, another chuckle can be heard.   

“This isn’t just candy,” Toji muses. “It’s… a down payment.” 

No matter how hard you try, there are bound to be some instances where things don’t work out the way you want them to.   

Based on how Toji walked off without giving you a proper answer, naturally, you figure it’s a done deal. It’s disappointing, of course, because you dared to imagine a world in which Toji doesn’t go on to commit atrocities, but not everything can be changed. Not always.   

You’re in for one hell of a surprise, though.   

“...he’s here,” Satoru mumbles one day, seemingly out of nowhere. You watch as his eyes widen, and he turns his head towards the entrance of the estate. “That man we met a while ago. The one with no cursed energy. He’s here .”   

“What?”   

You can’t quite believe it—at least, not until you walk past all the buildings and see him with your own eyes.   

Once again, Toji stands in front of you.  

“Yay, Toji! You really came!”   

Without even thinking twice, you run up to him and attempt to wrap your little arms around his broad frame. Toji stands there, looking slightly taken aback, but he doesn’t try to push you away, and that has to count for something, right?   

Satoru, however, looks like he’s about to throw a fit.   

“[Name]!” he fumes. “Why are you hugging that creepy old guy? It’s inappropriate! And besides, you should only be hugging me !”   

Despite Satoru’s protests, you continue to cling to Toji, because even if he’ll never admit it, you know that he could really, really use a hug.   

Satoru mashes his teeth together in frustration, and he even shakes his small fist in the air. Which is probably intended to be a warning, but he’s ridiculously cute, so it’s not too effective, in your opinion.  

Naturally, all of this commotion draws other people towards the source, and soon, you find yourself surrounded by several Gojo clan members.   

One of them gestures to you with a frown. “[Name]? Who is that man? Why did he just show up here all of a sudden?”   

“You fool. Can’t you tell just by looking at him?” another clan member mutters in distaste. “He… has absolutely no cursed energy. And that scar across his lip. It must be him . The failure of the Zen’in Clan. Zen’in Toji.”   

The atmosphere shifts all too suddenly. Everyone’s expressions are laden with disgust. Not only because of the general disdain sorcerers have towards those deemed as ‘weak’, but also due to the fact that he’s a Zen’in. In the eyes of the Gojo Clan, that’s the worst possible combination.   

Toji chuckles as he pats you on the head. “Not quite the welcoming I was hoping for. It seems not everyone is as friendly as you are, [Name].”   

Honestly, you can’t even really focus on the tension right now, because Toji just patted you on the head.   

Hehe. I’m happy.   

“State your business,” one of the clan members mutters. “You should know better than to show up unannounced.”   

“Well, that’s rude. Especially when I’m here to do one of you a favor.” Everyone blinks, clearly in disbelief, as Toji peers down at you. “Right, [Name]? Didn’t you ask me to help train you before?”   

“R-Really? You’ll… actually do it?”   

You marvel at the sudden declaration. Of course, the clan members are becoming more infuriated by the second, and Satoru doesn’t look too happy about it either. He actually looks like he’s itching to kick Toji in the nuts.   

A clan member steps forward, teeth bared. “Under no circumstances will a member of the Zen’in Clan have any part in—”   

“Shut up,” Satoru glares. “Let [Name] speak. I want to hear what she has to say first.”   

He turns back towards you, and even though he clearly has his doubts about Toji, for your sake, he might be willing to give him a chance.   

“Well? Are you sure you really want this guy to train you? Does it have to be him?”  

You look up at Toji. Admittedly, his character was far from innocent in the canon series. He chose to abandon his son and become an assassin. Nobody forced that life upon him. Ultimately, his demise was his own doing.   

But it probably wouldn’t have happened if only he’d been accepted in the first place. If only he hadn’t been treated like an outcast and made to resent the world he grew up in.   

Even though you might not succeed, you’re going to try and help him.   

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, hugging Toji even tighter than before. “I don’t want anyone else to teach me. It has to be him.”   

Satoru sighs. He wishes you didn’t have to make things so difficult. He’s never had a friend before, but ever since you stepped into his life, he’s been worrying about you practically nonstop. You’re honestly quite the hassle.   

But then again, you’re worth it.   

“And are you going to train her properly?” Satoru asks, now addressing Toji with a stern gaze. “I’m telling you right now, but you’re not allowed to hurt her. Not even a little bit. I’m going to be watching your training sessions to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. If at any point she’s in danger… I’ll seriously make sure you regret it.”   

Toji shrugs. “Sure. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn’t know how to hold back against a little kid.”   

Satoru stares at Toji for a while longer, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but you’ve spent enough time with him by now to be able to read his expressions, and you can tell that he’s just about to give in.   

Finally, he nods.   

“Okay, then. You can train [Name]. I give you permission.”   

Your eyes light up, and you even let out a squeal of delight as you excitedly jump in place, still clinging to Toji all the while. He obviously doesn’t react with the same kind of enthusiasm, but as he looks down at your tiny little frame, he finds a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even if you’re just a little kid, it feels nice to finally be acknowledged by someone.  

It would be great if you could just wrap this up on a high note, but of course, things are never that easy.   

“Master Satoru,” one of the clan members gapes. “What in the world are you saying? We refuse to condone this. The nerve of this talentless Zen’in trash to even step foot here, let alone insert himself into your lives… it’s ludicrous. We simply won’t hear of it.”   

You frown. “But I promised to pay Toji in exchange for him training me. Why is it such a big deal? Clans should be helping each other out, not hating each other. It would be way more productive if everyone cooperated. Isn’t our goal supposed to be getting rid of curses and keeping people safe?”    

“You want to pay him? Absolutely not! How dare you even suggest such a thing!”   

“Uh oh,” Toji chuckles, messily ruffling your hair. “It looks like they’re getting really angry now. I guess it’s a good thing I decided that I don’t actually need to be paid.”   

You blink, incredulous. “You… don’t?”   

“No. It’s fine. If doing this pisses off your clan, as well as those in the Zen’in Clan… that’s already more than enough for me.”  

A prideful smirk sweeps across Toji’s face. It looks like he wants to stick it to the man, so to speak. He’d much rather get under the skin of those who’ve wronged him than have some extra cash to spend. Well, not that you care exactly what his motivations are. He’s agreed to help you, and that’s already more than enough.   

One of the clan members takes a deep, shuddering breath, and in the next moment, you can tell that their cursed energy has spiked.   

“ Leave ,” they demand. “This is your last chance. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to—”   

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”   

It’s Satoru, of course. He’s staring at them with an irritable expression, and he even walks up to you and Toji and assumes a protective stance.   

“[Name] says she wants this guy to train her, so he’s going to train her,” Satoru mutters. “I’m not too happy about it either, but this is what she’s decided, so I’m going to support her. If any of you have a problem with that, we can just leave. I’ll take [Name] far, far away from here and never come back. I’ll leave the Gojo Clan forever. Is that what you want?”   

Neither of them respond, but you can tell that internally, they’re panicking. Sure enough, if Satoru really wanted to, he could overpower everyone here and do as he pleases. There’s no way to force him into anything. All of his diligence towards his training up until now… he’s been doing it out of a sense of obligation, not because he doesn’t have the strength to object. He’s been going along with everyone’s demands because he’s the strongest. Because the fate of the world hangs on his shoulders.  

When it comes to you, however, he can be awfully selfish. And everyone in the Gojo Clan already knows that.   

“...fine.”   

Their faces are bitter, ashamed, and resentful, but nevertheless, they have no choice but to concede. The embarrassment of relying on a Zen’in Clan member is nothing compared to the risk of losing Gojo Satoru.  

You smile yet again. So, it’s really happening. You’re not sure how, but you actually managed to pull it off.   

From this moment onward, Toji is your mentor.   

“I’ll do my best,” you beam, eyes brighter than ever. “I’ll train my butt off, and I promise I won’t ever complain, no matter how hard it gets. You’re going to be super impressed. Just wait and see!”   

Perhaps this is nothing more than the silly, idealistic ramblings of an ignorant child. Children like to say all kinds of things, after all. They make big, grandiose promises that they can’t keep. And they constantly exaggerate, making their feats seem larger than life itself.  

And yet, Toji feels inclined to believe you.   

“Very well,” he chuckles fondly. “I’ll hold you to that, so show me. Show me… how you’re going to prove everyone wrong.”   

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

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[amiserableseriesofevents]

breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much please 🥹🫶🏻

Months later, here I finally am 😅

Thank you Ali for this ask, I hope you'll like this little thing 🥰🥰

Such stuff-verse, post fic, set during the months following the last chapter

The phone rings. One, two, three, four, five rings.

A click. Voicemail.

Sigh.

“Hi dad, it's me. How are you? Mum told me you're ok but I'm, ah, just checking in. So, the show went well! Very well actually, you can read all of it in the paper if you want, they're saying great things about us. About me, specifically! So, yeah, maybe this has been the right time! Pity you missed it, uh? I'll let you know the next dates, maybe you'll catch it. Well, call me when you get the message. Goodbye dad, see ya.”

—

Four rings, voicemail.

“Hi dad, it's me. I had a ticket saved up for you on Friday but they told me no one showed up to collect it. I knew it was a long shot but I really hoped you could finish working a little sooner that night to see the show. I know it's something you don't really like but I think you should give it a chance. It would mean the world to me. I have to go now, talk to you soon. Goodbye.”

—

Straight to voicemail.

“Hey dad! Ellie just told me you went visiting her at Uni last week. I live just two hours away from her now, and on the road back to Wisconsin. I guess you didn't know if I was at home though, with all the touring and stuff; next time I'll tell Ellie to let you know if I'm around so you can come say hi, ok? Love you, talk soon!”

—

“Hi dad, it's John. Long time no see, uh? I don't know if mum told ya but we've just finished touring with the show and I'm going to say hi to Ellie at Uni. I was thinking maybe I could come visit you and mum for a day or two? There's a few things I'd like to talk to you about, if that's ok with you. Call back when you get the message, will you? Ok, bye.”

—

Gale's doing the closing round at the Abbotts when John arrives, sneaking in through the exiting crowd. He finds him waiting in the lobby, his face strangely devoid of feeling, eyes vacant as if he's thinking hard about something; Gale smiles when he sees him, the weight of the few days spent apart lifting from his shoulders. “Hey, stranger,” he calls with a fond smile, half expecting John to run up to him and crush him in a hug, or squeeze his cheeks and kiss him; he does neither of these things though, he just snaps his attention to him and offers a tight smile.

“Hey Buck. Need a hand with something?”

Perplexed but trying not to show it too much, Gale leans in to peck his boyfriend on the lips. “Nah, I've already done everything. I was just about to close up and meet the others at the pub, would you like that?”

A night out with friends and a beer always lifts up John's morale, even if he's tired; this time though, he grimaces a little at the offer. “I was just thinking maybe we could stay here for a while? You know, just like old times; I've really missed you, and this place, I'll admit it.”

There's definitely something really wrong, but before alarm bells can start going off inside his brain Gale nods, reaching out tentatively to move an unruly comb away from John's forehead and exhaling softly in relief when he leans into the touch. “Yeah, sure. I've been missing you too,” he says trying to steal something more than a tense smile from John. “Let me just close the front door and then I'm all yours.”

They go sit on the couch in the dressing rooms, all the lights in the building out except a small one in the corner; John looks awfully pale in its dull halo, with shadows under his eyes and that same, void expression that scares Gale a little. He racks his brain trying to figure out what's wrong: John went to visit his sister at Uni, and him and Ellie have a good relationship as far as Gale knows.

He sits next to John on the couch, puts a hand on his knee as gently as he can — I'm here if you need me, please tell me what's wrong, he means. Communication isn't their strongest suit, sure, but he hopes John will understand anyway.

“I saw my dad while I was there,” John says after a while, still staring ahead and not looking at Gale. His hand on John's knee twitches slightly in surprise but that's all the reaction he allows himself, waiting for John to go on.

“I've been trying to reach him for months, since The Tempest opened but he would never pick up, only send me straight to voicemail without ever calling back. This time he did, he called back and took me out for dinner; I was so excited about it, I though my mum had finally talked him through and he wanted to know more about the show, or the next one, whatever,” John continues. His brow is twitching like it often does when he's angry but his voice is still and cold as ice, scarily so. Gale hums softly, to let him know he's listening.

“But that wasn't it. The dinner was just an excuse to tell me that he'd been pulling some strings and he'd found me a job, a proper job, in one of his pals' companies. He said since I'm not a kid anymore I have to stop with these stupid ideas and find something that actually allows me to earn some money and be a normal, independent adult. I tried to explain to him that things are going well now, that we've been making money with the company, I even mentioned how we've invested in the Abbotts but he just- he just wouldn't listen. He didn't care. He said it's stupid and that I'll never become one of the greats because I'm not good enough for that, and stage actors don't make as much as movie actors anyway so it's been the wrong choice from the beginning. And when I told him I wouldn't accept his offer he told me to stop calling him every time I have a show, whining and begging him to come, because he'll never set foot in a theatre to watch me making a fool of myself.”

John's breath is coming harsher and faster now and Gale can't do anything but squeeze the hand on his knee, his insides boiling with rage towards John's father; how dare he make John feel like this, like nothing?

Gale knows the full extent of the effort John puts in his craft, how much he studies, how hard he works for it. He knows all the sacrifices he's made in the past year and what he achieved, how brave he's been even if he was terrified of failing, how happy he is now that everything paid off, how good he is. And his father dared make him feel like all that he's done means nothing?

He wonders how it's possible for a man like this, so mean and close minded, to have brought into the world someone like John — John who is kind, John who loves with all his heart, John who believed in Gale's dream even when he didn't have it in himself to do so.

“Oh darlin',” he says when it becomes clear that the story's over, that John has no more words to spare for it. “I am so sorry he told you all that. You know it isn't true, right?”

John still doesn't answer.

“John, darlin', he doesn't deserve to have you feeling like this. He doesn't want to come see you? Screw him, his loss. There's no seat here or in all the theaters in the world for someone who doesn't support you, it's not worth it,” Gale continues. It's easy for him to say, he's given up on his family years ago, suffered at the hands of his father's hatred many times and he likes to think he's mostly over it. But he still remembers the first times, the fear of having made a mistake leaving them behind, the sadness he felt every time he couldn't call them to celebrate a good grade or to seek comfort during rough times; it breaks his heart to know that now John will have to feel this way too, even if he still has his mom and sisters, because he believed his father could change his mind.

John exhales, shakily. “I just didn't think he could be this mean,” he says. Gale takes it as his cue to snake his arms around John and hug him as tight as he can, rubbing a comforting palm up and down his back

John holds him back, ever tighter, and buries his head in the curve of Gale's neck; it's something he always does when he's upset and can't face the outside world, Gale's smell and his soft skin a source of comfort better than any other. It's grounding, usually, but this time the scent of home is the thing that breaks the dam and he starts crying, softly at first and then louder, hands gripping at Gale like at a lifeline. Anger, frustration, and disappointment shake him, the sting of tears itself irritating because it's not fair that he has to feel like this because of something he loves so much, it's not fair.

Gale keeps holding him, murmuring kisses and sweet words in his wild curls, uncaring that John's tears are soaking his t-shirt. When the crying subsides he gently lifts John's face to take a proper look at him, then wipes the tears away from his cheeks.

“'M sorry,” John croaks out. Gale leans in to kiss the salty traces off his skin, red and irritated and hot.

“There's no need to,” he speaks, softly. “You can cry if you need to, I'm here for you. Even if your father will refuse to, we're not gonna stop believing in you. I'm not gonna stop encouraging you to do theatre, and I'll always be there by your side. Ok? I love you.”

John's eyes swell up again at his words, and he goes back hiding himself in the comfort of Gale's embrace; there's no safer place for him to be, Gale has made sure of that. He'll use his love to shield him, however possible, from the pain and the grief of mourning someone who's still very much alive.

For tonight, he'll hold him there however long John needs. Even until the end of the world, if that's what it takes.

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: month 22 “sight seeing”

“All ready?”

“Yeah, how many places are we visiting today?”

“I need to stop by THEMS for the support group meeting today, and pick up recording equipment. I need to write a report of mimic behavior/sensitivity analysis by the end of the week.”

“How much have you written so far?... You haven’t written anything have you?”

“...Busy.”

“HUN! You need to actually work to keep your job!... but if you wanted to spend the whole day together and you did that stuff later. I wouldn't say no.”

“Nice try Abi. But the recorder is coming with. I've used them since I could remember, it's practically a member of the family. Now you can wait in my room during the meeting… But if you wanted to…”

“I'll stay here, I'm not feeling up to meeting your new friends yet.”

“Boo. Don't worry I won't rush you. See you in a bit. There's snacks in the fridge, don't eat any of the picnic stuff. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“So how was it?”

“It was… alright. Sorry that makes it sound like it didn’t go well. It went perfectly fine!... Just a little sad Alexis still isn’t back. It’s been three weeks now. Apparently it’s just something she ate recently.”

“So food poisoning?”

“I honestly don’t know, it didn't seem like I was allowed to pry into it. I hope she’s fine, I was hoping you could meet her.”

“…But it went well otherwise, yeah?”

“Yeah! Everyone’s super nice! I just hope I come off the same way. I’m sure they know me as the nervous wreck who works for Erian at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hate-

“HUN!”

“AH! W-what is it? Oh, right, thanks. I need to stop thinking like that, huh?”

“It’s ok hun. It’s hard to stop thinking like that. Talk to me about your meeting. Was it good otherwise, besides one of them getting food poisoning?”

“Oh, yeah! It was super nice! I feel like we ended up helping out with a lot of problems we all had today. I didn’t end up talking much, but working in my field has been great for helping out with any logistical problems someone might have like with continuing prescriptions or stuff like that. 

I did notice one thing though. I, uh, well, I wasn’t talking much because usually when I’m at a meeting I get terrified of everyone looking at me. Not in an anxiety sort of way… I think, but in a, I've been spotted and need to slink off and hide, sort of way. I think it’s a mimic thing, like I don’t like to be known, you know? But this time was different. I felt a lot more at ease, even when I was the center of attention. I think it had something to do with a few people having simultaneous big changes with their AHRT. It made me realize that maybe what I hate isn’t being seen, but having humans know what I am.”

“Oh… Do you feel that when I look at you?”

“No, I know I’m safe with you. It’s just an interesting thought, is all. It’s like maybe humans are the natural predators of mimics, since they have the pattern recognition to notice strange details and spot the mimic. It could potentially lead to the origins of mimics. Maybe we were just normal animals that got hunted to extinction.”

“Uh huh… Wouldn’t there be fossil records then? Or some other evidence… Look hun, I’m happy that you’re happy, but you’ve been kind of laser focused on this origin stuff lately.”

“Well it’s important. Erian barely understood what he was giving me, I’m the only one of my kind that I’m aware of. It’d be nice to find my roots. Not to mention, he can’t even put this new Mimic HRT on the market until he actually knows everything he put into it. There’s one ingredient he apparently just found and stuffed it in there to see what would happen.”

“Hun, the more you talk about him, the more I worry about your health and your job.”

“It’s fine, my health is perfect and I don’t think I’ll be fired anytime soon. Anyway, come on, it's picnic time.”

* * *

“It's been so long since I've been to the beach. Look! Hun! Sandpipers! Ooooooh they're so cute!”

“Abi, are you good to walk around like that? I get the sand isn't going to be hard on your injury, but you're still recovering. And you shouldn't go swimming!”

“I'll be fine if I'm walking a little bit, don't worry. Now come here! Sit with me.”

“Y'know they say Kaiju sized sea creatures live here. You think I should dive in and look?”

“Pfffft! Who's they? Wouldn't there be like no fish at all if there were things bigger than whales in there?”

“Hyper city is weird, I’d believe in anything strange, like Erian being a half decent person.”

“...Hey hun, do we need to go to all these different places?”

“Getting tired already Abi?”

“Yeah…”

“I'd like to. My behavioral study on mimics is important to others, but it’s more important to me. I need to know so much about mimics. Erian is already working on figuring out the biology side of things, but I need to know how I think. So that I can make sure I'm safe to be around.”

“...So what do you think about this place?”

“It's… It's lonely.”

“Well. We're the only people here right now.”

“Not what I meant. There's a, longing, hoping that something underwater is looking back. But it isn't. I can just tell. I know when I'm being seen, I want to be seen. I just don't want to be recognized. Beaches feel weird, like I'm standing on the side of a cliff needing to jump off. The sea is nice. It's an empty void where I can pretend to be a stray clump of seaweed waiting for some fish to swim by. The prey, all looking at me, no humans around to know what I am. Huh, not sure where that image came from. Maybe mimics are amphibious.”

“You mentioned this sort of stuff before. You just know when you're being looked at. Are you ok? You're not getting an anxiety attack or anything right?”

“I'll be fine. And if I'm not fine then I know you can help, but, let's talk about something else.”

“Ok… So do you have gills or something? Also do I have to worry about you running into the ocean never to be seen again?”

“haha, I can shift gills. And no, if I went feral, maybe, but I'm still partly a slime, I'd eventually dissolve if I stayed in too long. Though, I've been losing those parts more and more.”

“I kind of wanted to ask. Are you ok with that? You came here to become a slime. Do you still feel dysphoric as something else?”

“I'm… We can figure that out later. Let's just watch the waves for now.”

* * *

“Isn’t this near your job?”

“Correct, it’s a nice little place a block away. Also I just like the name. Roost café”

“I’m not big on cafés hun.”

“Trust me, you’ll see why we came here… What do you think?”

“Well the tree is cool, and the magic fairy lights are pretty. Oh they have those little cat walkways, but there’s no cats here. Well, It’s very, cottage core. Very… You.”

“Oh, so you don't feel the aura do you?”

“Aura?”

“Yeah! Do you seriously not feel it? Mabel, the witch who runs this place, set up an aura that’s supposed to pacify any familiars and it came with the side effect of calming down anyone else who enters this place. Isn’t that amazing? Just think about all the places that could benefit from this. Imagine if the clinic had this, or restaurants, or government buildings, then people wouldn’t be so worried, it could help out so many therians!”

“I don’t know hun, I think a lot of people would probably hate having that sort of thing everywhere. Wouldn’t people hate that sort of thing? Getting emotions suppressed because it’s supposed to be safer. If I got insulted for existing and couldn’t get angry about it, I’d probably just feel awful.”

“Oh. huh.”

“Sorry to wreck your dreams.”

“It’s fine. Here, you get some snacks, my treat. Just get me some chai. I’ll find us a table to sit at”

“Ok. mwa! Don’t feel bad about the idea, I’m sure you could do something really cool if you think on it. So don’t start feeling bad about yourself for thinking about helping people.”

“No kissing! Not until I know it’s safe!... 

…What the heck am I doing, of course there’d be problems like that with an aura like this. How would I even set up magic fields in specific locations, I doubt the owner here is going to willingly teach it. I’m putting my feelings over others again aren’t I. Ever since I was told about this place I can't stop thinking about how everything would have been fine if I had an aura like this then. Maybe Abi wouldn't be stuck in a wheelchair. 

It's only supposed to affect familiars right? Wonder why it affects others like this. I think I read somewhere that mimics used to be familiars to wizards. Maybe I'm Abi's familiar now…”

“What are you mumbling hun?”

“Oh! Nothing! Don't worry about it!”

“Ok? Want a bite hun? There’s so many cute pastries here!”

“I can't eat pastries anymore, only meat. I pretty much just stick to the tea here. It's good tea.”

“That's so sad. Enjoy your dirty leaf water. I got some apple pie. Jealous?”

“Not really.”

“Mmmm, so good! This place is really cute though, Apparently you can take any of the fruit growing on the tree there. It's a little cramped but you could call it cozy. When we get a cat do you think we could bring it here?”

“I think it needs to be a cat familiar. You could start practicing to become a witch. But this place is nice I guess. I usually come here after work, you should try some of the tea here hun, it pretty much cures any migraines I get.”

“I'll stick to pepsi.”

“Well glad you like the place. I think you'd like Mabel too.”

“Oh she seemed really nice when I was paying. So… did you just want tea or was this place part of your study.”

“...I just wanted to stop by for tea. We can head over to the next place soon. You'd like it. It's called the Heart Mender boutique!”

“I don't mind staying here longer with you hun. Let's just sit a bit longer.”

* * *

“Ok, the recorder is back on.”

“Hun what happened, you can't just start freaking out for no reason and run out of the store. And your first instinct is to start documenting it, that's not healthy.

“Look I'm sorry, I just wanted to go clothes shopping, but something felt really strange, I tried to ignore it for a while. I feel bad for making a scene but I had to leave.”

“Hun, you've been panicking a lot lately, and you just take out that recorder if anything ever goes wrong. Have you talked with your therapist about this?”

“I have. Look, I’ll be fine, but right now I need to record these thoughts. please just tell me what you thought of the boutique ok?”

“...Alright. Fine. Uh, It was really nice. The one at the counter, Samara I think, showed us around the place. There were a lot of different styles and shapes for all the clothes. Like even ones that therians could wear. I bet it felt really cool for you when you saw that jacket with the four sleeves. You don’t usually have four arms but it’s inclusive and I know you like that stuff. It’s cool. I even asked and apparently the owner makes them! She sounds cool. Plus it seems like they'd be able to help you pick out an outfit. You’ve never had a good sense of style.

“Thanks hun. I can count on you to always sneak in an insult about my past self. Well, It helped calm me down I guess. Hey, uh, not part of my point, but… I don’t really go to boutiques. Is pottery a thing they usually sell?”

“Not really? The accessories, like necklaces, are pretty normal, but I’ve never seen pottery being sold in one. They’re really cute though. I love the one you bought. You could grow some bamboo in it. And Thank you again for getting me this necklace by the way. It's so cute!”

“So you didn't notice anything else?”

“Hun… If something's the matter you have to tell me. It's just a nice place. I want to visit here again.”

“You remember how at the beach I mentioned I could always tell when I was being looked at?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I could feel something else watching us. I don't know what, but something was there. Looking through the eyes of everyone. No, that's not right. Like everyone everywhere was seeing me in one place.” 

“Ok, maybe we should focus on breathing. Just calm down for a moment. Even if you're right about, whatever you're trying to say. It's still none of our business. Everyone in the shop are nice, and I don't see anything bad about the store online. Is it really that big of a problem for your new senses?”

“It's not. I'm sure whatever secrets the Heart Mender boutique has, it's their business. I just. I wish I wasn't the only mimic. I could tell whatever connection there was, it was something my instincts wanted. It wouldn't stop screaming at me that I should be the same way with my own kind. I was jealous. Whatever I felt in there, I wish I had it… Abigail, don't get near me. I could bite!”

“You won't. I just know, and you could use a hug. I wanna go back inside, they had a lot of cool stuff. I'll hold your hand while we're there, and I'll help you pick out some cool clothes.”

“...I feel so weird, in a, how can I be this dumb, sort of way. Let's hope I haven't scared anyone.”

“There's no other mimics, so you could just say it's a mimic thing and no one would know.”

“Jeez hun, hahaha, I can't just go around lying like that.”

“Hey, technically, it was a mimic thing. And turn off your recorder this time. No recording equipment remember.”

* * *

“So, the next location is an interesting one. And I think you'll probably want to wait in the car for now. And before you say anything, listen. I actually mean that this place is apparently really bad to stay in. Thayer Library is something of a ghost story. Where they say people feel the presence of something watching them”

“So, you want to see if you can feel their presence then?”

“Yep! Also it's a spooky haunted library, how could we not go here for a date! Oh! There it is, come on! Oh this is going to be great. It’s close to sunset too! Alright, let’s get going hun, I’ll go get the wheelchair.”

“Actually, could I stay inside?”

“Is everything alright? Are you feeling haunted.”

“... I think if I step inside I’ll die.”

“Oh. oh, you’re serious. Alright, I’ll be quick. Stay safe then, I’ll be right back…

…Huh, is. Is this it? It’s barely a tingle. It’s certainly empty. I don’t even see a receptionist. Is it open? I guess I’ll just do a quick read and leave. Suppose I can spend time documenting behavior. Something is definitely watching. But it’s not thousands like last time, just a few. Something big, but strangely calming. I feel completely relaxed here, like I don’t have any problems. Who’s watching? And why does it not bother me? It’s not human, so then it’s some other force, is it a guard, a curious visitor? Well I’m in a library, I guess I should read…

…I wonder if this place has any books on mimics. The books here feel like they could disintegrate with a touch, but there’s not a speck of dust on them. Maybe I could actually find some information on us. Huh, this might be my first real chance at a lead. This could be perfect! I could… Why is Abi calling? Wait… It’s already been an hour!? How?! When!? Ugh, I’ll have to come back here later. I get the sense I’m not wanted here. Maybe Abigail is right, this place could be dangerous.

There’s one more location to go to. I’d rather not head there in a bad mood. I think I’ll check out a book. Mimics surround us? Yeah I wish. Ominous title, and what are the chances I pull this book out at random… I should go.”

* * *

“Mayday, is the place closed?”

“Yeah, it's closed, apparently some sort of crime happened a while ago and they’re closed to the public. I can only imagine what anti-therian story is being spun right now. I just hope they don’t try to contact Erian’s clinic about this. They treat me like a child who needs to hand the phone over to a dad.”

“God, I hate this place, why did we even have to come here?”

“The zoo is important to visit, even if it's the culmination of everything awful in this city. I know people who live here. I hope they're ok… Do you think I'd end up living here in a tiny glass cage if I did go all the way with mimic HRT?”

“I don't want to think about that hun. Let's just go already.”

“...Sometimes when I go to the support group, someone doesn't show up, and I can always tell what everyone's thinking. The first thought is always that they went full feral, that they're stuck here, that we've been forgotten again. I always make sure to visit here every month. Just in case. It's never actually happened. Except the once. It makes me think what would happen if a colony of mimics showed up in Hyper city. Would we be accepted? Or would we be all cornered into this zoo for the sake of a fake safety that only exists in people's heads. What I would give to see this place turned to rubble.”

“Do you need another hug hun?”

“I'll be fine.”

“You could use another hug.”

“I guess I could yeah. It’s hard to stay sad when you’re around.”

“So did you figure some stuff out today?”

“Oh absolutely not, Erian is going to be pissed when he finds out I have nothing. But it was fun. And I got to spend some time with you, which is always a plus. Let’s do this again next time, and maybe I won’t be so buried in my own head. We can go to a spa or something. Some good old sight seeing.”

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Hey y'all, This one took us quite a while to write out, two weeks to write out, including a nearly completed scrapped script. Anyway, this chapter is very special to us because it uses a lot of fun locations that others have created. Hyper city is an amazing setting that has given us so much to work with and has become the perfect place to write about. We wanted to showcase some of our favorite places and if any of them interest you, you should go read where they came from.

Kaiju beach: @noreo-oreo

The roost café: @ashedink

The Heart mender boutique: @home-sweet-hive

Thayer library: @dawning-mars

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Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

@aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywyne, @glitchgloop, @nyxthewary, @lunadook

[jainydoe]

Misdirection, Ch. 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Dinner at Bar Vorgoth.

She’s somewhat shocked she’s arrived first. The afternoon had been spent listening to Classical FM, Nevarra’s Very Best All-Classical Station. She’d write down the names of the artists they played, Brahms, Chopin, Schubert, her voice lilting up and up a class or two and exaggerated as she practiced her Oh, I would simply Adore another glass, thank you, Jeeves. Neve laughed into her hair and finished placing little diamond pins, small and powder blue. Making her hair look magicked and wistful. Like a fairy dream. Rook snorted. 

“This guy knows what I’m like, now, you know. That I’m no lady. Just a fucking carwreck. Not even serious enough to get promoted to trainwreck, but hey, I’m working on it.” 

“All the more reason to give him whiplash.”

Neve’s closet was suited to her and her only, but a satin number and some gold adornments might tickle his fancy, they figured. They’d made an event of it. Rook would describe him, his strangeness, his vaguely familiar yet saran wrapped tone, down to the shoes, the way his presentation was a mix of bruised earth, ripe fruit and the dazzle in the rough, and together, they crafted Rook: Serpentine She-Devil. Rook: Angel of Death. Rook: The Smiling, Beguiling Wildling. Rook: Emmrich Devourer. Each its own box-office hit. 

Neve was a chronic gumshoe who hated cars, which meant having to take the tube to the part of town Rook never visited. Tonight, she’d deign to stalk its corners. Grace them all with her laugh and textured history. Her embellishment of monotony. Seduce them with her unflinching youth. Maybe it was in her head, but the air was colder here. The nighttime - a more familiar companion. Whatever, she didn’t need a coat. Coats were for suckers. She hoped her nipples were hard in a cute way and not sleazy as she looked up at the entrance to the place. It was a hotel. Jesus, alright. They hadn’t discussed sex. And, frankly, she was a little surprised he’d be so, well, quick about it? Nonetheless, she smoothed a hand over her hair, lifted her chin, You’re posh, you’re posh, you’re posh, you’re posh, and saw on the right hand side of the lobby was a restaurant. She approached. Goddamn, if these heels were any louder I’d kill myself. 

“Hi, uh,” Wrong. Incorrect. Try again. “Hello. I’m meeting someone for dinner.” 

The hostess, are they called hostesses at places like this, had a molasses stare, slow and thick and too uninterested to focus. As if saying obviously you’re here for dinner, genius. What’s this look like, the barn you hoofed from? “Name.”

Fuck. Reservations are under last names. She didn’t know his last name. Maybe it was on his profile? But she didn’t wanna check and it’s probably an alias, anyway, and this lady’s just staring and she’s so skinny and Rook’s wasting her time, there’s no one behind her but she’s, like, actively making her shift worse, so she shrugs, lifts a hand as if to say fuck if I know, bitch but instead says, “Emmrich?” She guesses it came across in a way that’s bored and unimpressed because when she says his name, the hostess straightens. She actually smiles, eyes widening. It’s fucking off-putting. 

“Ah, right this way, miss.”

Miss. Right. Okay.

They glide through the seating, tables littered with suits and gowns who don’t look her way, purely enraptured with each other. She sees a girl, blonde and grinning, just about ready to eat her date. And the way he looks at her. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was someone he paid for, too. But to him, it’s a deal. He’s managed to secure the world and she only costs a small fortune. She feeds a bite of something decadent onto his tongue, and wraps her lips around the spoon to lap up whatever crumbs he’s left for her. It feels wrong to watch them. This foreplay. This exchange. But she’s studying, so actually it’s perfectly fine and she should honor the fact she’s rubbing elbows with the greats. Rook tries to memorize everything about her in the seconds it takes for the hostess to guide her to an elevator. 

“There’s a second floor?”

“For our elite guests.”

It’s a covered patio with a single table at the center, something nouveau-medieval about it. Maybe it’s the lighting, or the fact it runs long and decorated. She wants to order but figures a guy like this will wanna order for her. Hell, he’d probably have a better handle on what she should be drinking, anyway. Maybe she’ll discover new signatures tonight. New favorites. New desires.

She should’ve brought a fucking coat.

“Manfred, please, I implore you.” He takes his round, pale face in his hands, squishing his cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. “Enough with the Cocomelon.” His laugh was more of a wheeze, fingers grabbing at Emmrich’s ears in the way that meant it was time for Papa to make him fly. Like the elephant from that movie. The one that can fly. You know it. Dingo. “Yes, yes, Dingo Daddy will help you fly.” He lifted Manfred onto his shoulders, arms tucked tight under his chin as they descended the stairs. “Let us explore, Manfred! Perhaps the two of us can find that blasted babysitter.” He hoped murmuring to himself would keep his sentiments private. A fruitless endeavor when the boy was around. Emmrich could hear his little bl bl bl-s as he tried sounding out the words. At least it’ll be enough to distract him. He’s running behind schedule and it’s ages before the doorbell rings. 

“I’m so sorry, Professor, my car ran out of gas and I had to fill it and I had this paper I needed to finish reading for a friend and-”

“Bellara, stop,” he raises his hand, and for a moment, allows her to feel the weight of his importance. “How many times do I have to remind you to call me Emmrich? Should we begin a swear jar?”

She laughs, clearly shaken. Good. He’s late and Manfred snuck into the snack pantry before dinner. This means running through the living room, iPad videos on full volume as he crafts impromptu … creations. He doesn’t mention it, out of spite, but wishes her luck, nonetheless. He’d been hesitant to hire an old student to babysit, but Bellara simply adored Manfred. Freddie. And Manfred’s taken to her. Pretends her hair, its signature bun, is a crystal ball where he can predict futures yet to be metabolized. He’s utterly enraptured by her gadgets, and over the months, has come to expect that she shares some new gizmo, some electric marvel, each time she visits, his eyes shining by how truly wonderful Princess Bell’s world can be. And as their night comes to its end,  he, inevitably, curls against her chest, dozes off with his thumb in his mouth and snores, gently, like a fresh pup. Late at night, Emmrich cries. Goes over the case files of his spoiled relationship with Johanna, as if hoping to figure out how he could’ve made her stay for their son. If she could’ve been the mother he needed. Maybe if she’d gotten to share something with him, had him fall asleep in her arms, instead, perhaps if he saw limitless futures in her, she’d have stuck around. She might not have raised him into a good man, but at least she’d have raised him, at all. Maybe that would’ve been enough. Instead of a husk, a shell, an idea of a man playing house and trying not to snuff out Manfred’s zest for life too soon. Instead, he’ll kill Rook. Buy her prime and, in exchange, offer a hollow but beautiful future. One where she can mourn the loss of her girlhood in a penthouse. Sob away the memories of him taking every bit of her, but in a clawfoot tub with lavender bubbles and a glass of bubbly on permanent standby. He knows she must be miserable, already. Recognized that bite all street rats, like him, can’t shrug off. At least he can make her miserably rich. Like those purse dogs hanging by a thread, snarling, ready to strike at the closest sign of a warm hand. 

He’s five minutes late and sweating when he strides into Bar Vorgoth, smile prepped for Patrice. They exchange no words as she takes him to his lady in waiting. The elevator thrums. 

“Your,” she pauses, and he can see her nerves spike as she realizes her near blunder, “party, has already arrived.”

“Surprising.”

That makes her laugh. He gives her a grin that says thanks for the discretion, I’ll tip well for it and steels his shoulders for his entrance. You’re fine. You’re calm. You’re loaded. You’re 

The doors open and she turns, quickly, flicking a cigarette over the balcony and waving away the very present evidence of smoke. Like a teenager caught sneaking her mom’s Virginia Slims. Cute.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me for being late.” Yeah, good going, rub it in that she was tardy last time. No matter the fact she was literally saving her best friends from starving in the woods. What’s your excuse, old man? Life Alert take too long to show up?

She lets her head fall to the side, peering up at him through her lashes. Her makeup is glittery and soft in a way he’s seen on the television, nowadays. A modern woman. Electric. 

“And I’m sure you’ll understand if I need a quick cry before we eat. Maybe I should smash a plate, or something.” 

It’s nice that she’s having fun. That they can joke. This is a good sign. They’re already laughing things off. And it’s not at each other. Not a battle. There was always a little part of him burned and stung with. You know who. His fondest memory is when she’d tackled him in the marbled corridor of the department, exam waving in his face. “I beat you, I beat you, I beat you, Volkarin! Eat it up! Suck it, chump! You fucking peacock! What grade did you get, again?”

“An A.”

“An A MINUS! HA! Idiot! Say it! Say you’re an idiot!”

“I’m an idiot.” 

“I KNOW! HA!”

The jokes stopped being funny when she got let go from the Bureau’s interview process. Turns out, grades don’t matter more than passing your psych evals. 

Johanna was an elevator. Thrumming up and up and up until she suddenly became a surprise canon and shot you out like cheap, homemade ammo. Left her gunpowder residue on your cheeks and lit you on fire, everywhere. 

There’s a part of her, Rook, that feels familiar in that way. Like she’s a live wire ready to shock him numb and zap him into comatose. It frightens him. It makes him want to curl into his sheets and keep crying. Put on something soapy and swear off women for good. But then he pictures her legs straddling him, burrowing under the sheets as she kisses his tears away and laughs, asking if he wants to stop being a baby and take Manfred out for something sweet. 

He’s too busy imagining a future with her, taking pleasure in the fear it sparks, that he doesn’t notice until they’re seated that she’s freezing. Don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down don’t

“Would you like my coat? Or scarf?”

She straightens her shoulders, smile tight-lipped and jaw pulled taught. “That, that would be lovely, yes, thank you.” 

It swallows her and drowns him in ooey-gooey lust. It’s been five minutes, Try to act like you’ve done this before. You’re Volkarin. The one who banged their Criminology professor and ran from her husband stark naked into the night. The guy who threw the best parties, ragers, bacchanals, saddled the hottest men in class and had the stamina to show for it. Stop acting like this is primary school and Rook is the girl with the prettiest hair. Though, to be fair, it is quite pretty. Very charming in the moonlight. She’s almost vampiric in the way she glows under the barest allowance of a twilight gleam. The night has claimed her its own. It almost makes him jealous. The stars oughtta hide their fires, already. Jesus. 

His coat isn’t scratchy or cool to the touch. It’s warm. It’s inviting. She’s embarrassed by the fact she almost nuzzles against its lapels, covering herself in him. This is the nicest thing she has ever worn and it’s as white-hot shameful as it is a simmering power. But then she remembers this is probably a little hot to watch, too, and lets herself stretch into it, arms wrapping across her chest like it’s the only thing keeping her from complete nudity. “I love your coat.”

“Thank you. A cosmic aubergine suits you.” Aubergine. Aubergine. Cos-mic Au-ber-gine. The tick of the tone up then three hops down, its own, sweet hopscotch. “It’s my belief a couple should,” he’s pink, “get to know one another.” Couple? “Where are you from?”

“Here and there.”

“What do you do for work?” “This and that.” He narrows his eyes, nodding. “Well, clearly, right now I’m taking a sabbatical from saving the world to indulge in more pleasurable pursuits.”

“And what’s your idea of pleasure?”

What’s his idea of pleasure? Mahjong? Feeding birds? Nevermind, it’s paying impressionable young women to gorge on decadent food and answer inane questions on their personal lives that will be forgotten before the evening ends. Perhaps if she were rolling in it, she’d find some sick draw to it, too. “Accompanying handsome men to rooftop dinners.”

“Then it’s something you do often?” It’s probably a trick of the light, the way his eyes harden, prudish and girlish. It’s familiar. She throws him a bone.

“No.” She stares at the table between them, scratches a nail down the tablecloth. “Not as much as I hope to, anyway.”

He clicks his tongue. “Do you see yourself entertaining any other,” he raises an eyebrow, “handsome men in the near future?” 

She wants to be angry at this unexpected possessiveness. What does he know? Maybe she’s got loads of messages from old-timers and midlife freaks. Maybe she’s considering hiring a personal assistant to manage her calendar and send out dainty envelopes with polaroids and sticky lipstick kisses. Xoxo, your Rook.

But somewhere dark and untouched, she’s flattered. That they’ve spent maybe an hour together and he’s already wanting to brand her. Stamp his initials on her neck and ass just in case she planned on wandering into any nearby pastures. She’s sweet on him. Maybe there’s something to this guy. Something even more familiar than a guarded sense of self. Something pathetic and desperate. Doleful and grotesque. Penurious and suppliant and craven. Wretched. She’s practiced this smile for the past two hours, the left corner of her mouth drawing up with a fishing line, predatory and cruel in its enchantment. “Now why would I do that when I’ve got you?”

She takes note of the way he crosses his legs but sets his sight. Like this whole time, they’ve just been setting the board, and now she’s played pawn to E4. He’s as en-garde as he is impressed. She feels like a minx. 

“Good.”

Dinner is served and this character she’s worn becomes faded and frayed. He doesn’t mind. She enjoys holding her glass of wine, lifting her shoulder, taking in everything around them. It gives him the chance to take in her. Far more reserved than she’s let on. Maybe not as experienced, but a quick study. She’s got stories that outshine his. He asks her what she did before signing up for the site and she flattens her hands against the table, buzzed and buzzing with energy, “Okay, so get this-” He finds himself swallowing down gulps of air to fuel his laughter, “Forgive me, you got corralled into signing up for a fight club? Not only that, but did nothing to prepare. And then they put you up to bat with the most formidable challenger available?”

She shrugs, as if this story is one of hundreds. He bets that’s true. “What can I say, ain’t no rest for the wicked.” He hopes he won't be just one of her stories. Knows it's inevitable, but hopes anyway. She asks what he does to afford such a high society lady as herself. “Let me guess, you’re, um, wait, I got this, I’m good at this, okay, so,” she places her fingers on her temples and scrunches her nose, “Banker.” He chuckles, low and satisfied. She turns her head, staring harder. “Nah, no way. You’re too interesting to be a banker.”

“What makes you say that?”

She shakes her head, stabs a fork into her lamb and points at him. “Look at the way you dress. You’ve got on, like, what is that, a bolo?”

He places his hand over his collar. “It’s vintage.”

“My point, exactly. And this coat, I mean, way too cool for someone who's devoted their life to numbers.”

He supposes that’s true. Takes a small pride in being thought of as hip. With it. Swankified and fresh. Do the kids still say fresh? He won’t ask. “So then what’s your guess?”

She leans back, chin up. Comfortable. He takes great pride in it. “I don’t know, yet. But I will.”

When dessert arrives, she’s so focused on the display of it, the flaming glory of one’s first Baked Alaska, that he lets himself take in the sweetness of her sincerity. The truth of her joy. And his eyes melt down the way his coat has parted, making room for her chest, her full belly, fabric creasing into every bit of her like something poured. She takes a spoonful, practically salivating, and he can see her almost offer him a bite. Something switches. Her eyes shift from giving to taking. She devours the cream and merengue and cake, cheshire and aggressive. His throat is dry. “I have one more surprise this evening.”

Her eyes widen. “For me?”

“Just you.” He passes her a card key. “The beds are divine and the bathtubs are small oceans.” He hopes he isn’t being too forward. This is just a kindness. He’s a patron. A sponsor. A friend. It must be a trick of the light, the way her eyes are just. Well. Disappointed. 

“Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.”

He swells and puffs up and is downright giddy as he feeds off her excitement. She practically dashes to the lobby elevator, flashes her key at the bellhop and whispers in his ear Penthouse, please!

He catches her eye before the doors close, and in a shock to them both, she blows him a kiss. Followed by a wink. She hold up her hand, mimicking a phone, mouths out a CALL ME and, at that, disappears. The world is a haze and life but a dream on the drive home. He’s electric. He’s a sparked canon. He almost gives Bellara a kiss on the forehead when he gets home, wants to jump up onto the kitchen counter and shout I HAD A DATE THAT ENDED DECENTLY WELL AND I THINK WE ACTUALLY GET ALONG AS PEOPLE, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!

He waves her goodbye and almost shuts the door, when something familiar lodges in his throat. That’s Rook’s car. 

They know each other. 

Good thing those stars hid their fires. 

[urne-buriall]

i miss sotw dean

so do I. and sometimes I think about what would've happened if Cas had been at home the day Dean brought the bread, the night after their ill-fated first kiss:

Dean left Cesar’s making straight for Cas’ place, chewing on his thumbnail as he drove into town. Would Cas even be home? He’d probably be at work. Dean was counting on him being at work. He’d made bread, but he didn’t have anything like a speech prepared and he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he saw Cas again.

He drove right past the laundromat, turned to go around the block, slowing himself down on purpose. Cas wouldn’t be there. Dean would leave a note. Because if Cas was there it could be very strange. Would he even want to see Dean? Would he want to invite him inside? The way Dean had shut him down last night, completely unwarranted, the bread might not be enough to counteract that. Dean briefly doubted whether Cas even wanted him that way to begin with, as if he might’ve made it all up. But his lips felt the ghost of Cas’ all over again. So passionate, so all-consuming. It was what all the couples in romance books kissed like. He knew how it felt, now. He hadn’t made that up.

He hid the trembling in his hands as he got out of his truck and made his way to the alley behind the laundromat. Vented air from the building smelled like detergent and dryer sheets, warm and thick. He’d feel like a criminal just heading this way if he hadn’t already visited so many times for GED studying. Those moments, too, he now thought of in a different light. Instead of sitting on the futon to go over notes, Cas might press him back into the couch with kisses…

Dean was convinced Cas wouldn’t be home, so when he rounded the corner and saw the motorbike parked, he stopped short. But Cas was walking distance from the vet clinic and used the truck for work, so he might still be out. Dean cast a glance up before he started up the metal steps. The sound of his feet announced him before he would even reach the top landing outside Cas’ front door.

He might not be home. Dean could leave the conchas on the patio table with a note. But if Cas was home, he would’ve heard someone come up the steps. Dean should knock and hope for no answer. He pulled back the screen door so he could knock on the door proper, then waited a fast moment.

Good. Nothing. He could release this complicated feeling of fear and disappointment and leave the container on the table.

The door opened before Dean could turn away.

Cas wore an old university t-shirt and a pair of dark green khaki shorts. He stood in the doorway very still, as much taken aback as Dean to find him standing there.

“Dean,” he said, voice lower and more gravelly than usual. For a moment Dean didn’t know what to think of being under Cas’ gaze again, wondering what he looked like to Cas in this moment, wondering what he thought. And then Cas’ eyes flicked past Dean towards the empty staircase. It was brief—already Cas was looking at him again—but it was telling.

He was afraid Dean had come here with others. He was afraid Dean had come with ill-intent.

“Cas, I—” Dean’s voice caught in his throat. He had to clear it unexpectedly. “I um. I made you bread.”

Cas looked down at the container Dean offered out, then back up at Dean with a furrowed brow like he didn’t understand.

“They’re, uh, conchas,” said Dean. “Like we had at Cesar’s after we brought the mustang.”

Cas’ head began to tip at an angle, putting pieces together but not with much confidence.

“I spent the morning there,” Dean finished. “Making these. Talking to Cesar. I— I wanted to give you something. To say sorry.”

Cas slowly took the container from Dean. He remained strangely still, taut, his face giving next to nothing away. “Sorry?” said Cas.

“For not letting you say anything last— last night,” said Dean. “You wanted to talk and I— I wasn’t very nice.”

Cas dropped his gaze down, mouth looking sad and severe. He took a breath and said, “I’m not sure what you want me to say now.”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a plea. Dean felt like he’d been as clear as he could be, dropping those breadcrumbs. He’d talked to Cesar. He made conchas for Cas. He was sorry for not giving Cas a chance to talk, but he wasn’t sorry for the rest of it. But Cas wasn’t a guy who worked with coded messages.

“Well,” said Dean, and he looked from around the landing back to Cas. This wasn’t the kind of thing you stood outside for. “If you wanted to invite me in, we could start there?”

“You want to come in?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, I— Yeah,” said Dean.

Cas looked thoughtful but he stepped back, letting Dean inside. Dean’s heart beat faster just passing close by Cas. The room was warm but there were a couple of windows open and Cas had the fan going, keeping it from feeling stuffy. Cas passed Dean to set the container of conchas on the table. He stopped there, looking down at them, far from confident in his next step.

Dean wondered for the first time if he really had broken things irremediably. He thought he could bring some bread over and make things right just like that? After breaking Cas’ heart into pieces by being so careless and cruel the night before?

“I freaked out.” Dean’s own voice surprised him. Quiet and strained and uncertain. He didn’t even know where the words came from, unbidden but completely honest. “I never even thought of— of kissing a guy before.” It was so vulnerable he looked down at his shoes, feeling red touch his cheeks, even as he could tell that Cas now looked over. “And I just— I like you so much, Cas, and I was worried I ruined everything, and I got scared, and then I did ruin everything. But uh, you know, my whole life just changed less than twenty-four hours ago and I just… wanna make it right.”

“Changed?” said Cas, taking a step closer.

“I’ve been trying to be something I’m not,” said Dean.  “My whole life. And then you came along. You came back. And I— I didn’t know what it meant to me. Until last night.”

Cas lifted his chin, his shoulders evening out from their previous despondent slope. “So when you said… You’re ‘not like that’...”

Dean shook his head, meeting Cas’ gaze even though it was terrifying to be so bold and honest. “It wasn’t true,” said Dean. “But… I needed some time to figure it out.”

“You talked to Cesar,” said Cas, fitting that piece of information into context now.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I’m sorry about icing you out last night. It wasn’t fair. Are you… are you okay?”

Cas’ head tipped again as if he hadn’t expected that question. He had to think about the answer. He eventually said, “Yeah. Now.” He wet his lips and said, “Dean. I wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to say… all these things to you. I wasn’t going to push. I would’ve listened.”

“I’m sorry for that part,” said Dean. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you.”

“I was afraid I ruined things,” said Cas.

He was afraid of more than that. Dean couldn’t forget the way Cas glanced at the steps as if Dean might’ve turned up here with backup. Dean took a small step forward. “Can we start over?” he asked. “Forget I made such a mess?”

Cas glanced at Dean’s lips, a telling gesture. Exactly what Dean wanted. “Starting over,” said Cas. “Does that mean…”

“I wanna kiss you again,” said Dean. “And this time I won’t run away.”

Cas closed the last distance between them. His hand rose to cradle Dean’s jaw and Dean swore his heart leapt to his mouth in time for their lips to meet. This kiss was so tender and yet it was so much more than Dean had ever felt with any of the rare girls he’d agreed to date. Cas felt so much more real, so solid. And while this felt so much more enlivening than any other kiss, Dean found himself drifting within it, as if he’d been unmoored into a dream.

When they kissed away they kept their faces close, Cas’ head bowed and resting against Dean’s forehead. His thumb brushed across Dean’s chin, tracing just faintly against Dean’s lower lip. Dean’s heart thudded in his chest.

“You aren’t running away,” Cas stated.

“No,” said Dean. “I wanna stay right here.”

Cas made a sound like his breath catching. “Stay,” he said. “Please.”

There was something else in it. Something deeper than Dean understood. Not dangerous, not bad, but imbued with meaning he didn’t have all the clues to decipher.

[mewnewew]

Sir Crocodile x Reader.

Uh, felt really good after seeing so many people like what I wrote earlier, so I decided to write more. Hope y'all like this.

Shelby was used to different customers. Snooty, rude, calm, nice, loud, angry the like. She had customers from all walks of life come to her store of perfumes. She had met ladies of high society, maids, performers, young girls, elderly women, men as well who were there to buy gifts or for themselves. Her favorite customer however, was the one lady who came by once every 3 weeks on Wednesday, an easy smile on her face.

"Call me Reader!, I've heard your shop was the best like...anywhere! Can I see your stuff?"

That was the first thing that Reader had said to her. She dressed in casual clothes, always had a smile on her face and didn't wear much jewellery or makeup. She came in to check up on the new scents and get more of the ones she liked. She was honestly a joy to be around. Like a little puppy, but a genuine one. Shelby loved talking to her for hours about different stuff, about friends, clothing, politics, etc.

Shelby didn't know much about her, per se, but knew she had a husband who she loved quite a bit, and was quite....odd.

"Hmm? My husband? Oh yes, he really loves Bananawani. On our third anniversary, he gave me a Bananawani egg as a present!"

"I look tired? Oh don't worry. I was up last night trying to get my husband to bed. There's been so much work recently, I only ever see him in my dreams these days!"

"Oops! Sorry about the sand, my husband dropped me off."

"Oh, do you have any....fungal scents? My husband absolutely adores mushroom hunting you see"

To Shelby's understanding, the man must be a workaholic who had some strange....habits. She remembered once when Reader came by, absolutely stinking of smoke, along with....sand leaking out of her pants as she walked?

"Sorry, sorry I'm so sorry. My husband brought me here this time and he had to leave quickly for a meeting..."

Well, to each their own.

Reader, was also so appreciative of Shelby's place, that she kept saying she wanted her husband to come visit, however her husband wasn't able to come visit whenever she came to the shop.

Today, the town was on edge. Apparently, the former Warlord Sir Crocodile was in town, and Shelby wanted to close up quick. Didn't need no trouble, no siree.

And just her luck, Reader came along.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry but-"

"Oh please say you aren't closing! I've brought my husband along this time!"

Shelby sighed. Oh well, might as well get it over with.

"I guess he can- WHAT IN THE-"

Shelby almost choked on her own spit. Sir Crocodile, the man who caused the entire town to basically go into lock down, and the main reason she was going close shop early today, ducked into the shop, looking disgruntled at the her, as if her entire shop was causing him offence. Reader, to her credit was looking as happy as a clam, tugging his coat sleeve forwards.

"See? This is the place!"

".....I see."

Shelby, on the other hand, had her jaw wide open, expression in shock. Then she blinked and tried to recover.

"You didn't tell me your husband was Sir Crocodile?!?"

Reader, tilted her head to the side.

"I didn't? Oops. My bad" She looked at Crocodile.

"Reader...." Crocodile took his cigar out of his mouth, smoke leaving his lips.

"Yes?"

"Time to go."

Reader frowned and nodded slowly, turning back to Shelby with a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, so the thing is, this island is getting more dangerous for us, and I might not be able to come here for a long time."

"I, wh-sorry what?"

"I can't come around anymore cause of how dangerous it's been for us....I'm so sorry. I-"

"SIR CROCODILE! WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

"Time to go. You got a back entrance to this place?"

He picked her up from the scruff of her collar with his hook.

Shelby nodded humbly, and perked a thumb to the back of the store.

"Oh, okay. Bye bye!" She waved, Crocodile nodded.

Shelby stared, and they disappeared into a cloud of sand.

What the fuck had just happened.

Six months later,

Shelby was reading a book. It had been a slow day, and without her favourite customer, things had been boring lately.

"Uh, is this place open?"

She looked up, two rather disorganized looking men, stood there, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Yes? How can I help you?" She put the book down and nudged a gun closer to her under the counter. Just in case....

"We're here on official orders by Lady Reader. She asked us to give ya this." Saying so, the man on the left gave her a folded letter.

She blinked, and took the letter, feeling less on alert. She opened it and it read,

'Shelby! It's been so long since I've talked to you! I, or rather my husband has been very busy lately, and I've not been able to come meet or even visit your shop recently.

But now, things have sort of cleared up and I've managed to affix something where I can send some men to collect on perfumes and letters along with payment. If it's okay with you that is. I know what impact dealing with pirates in general can have.

Sincerely,

Reader'

Shelby smiled. Looks like things are going to get interesting again. She looked at the men.

"Here, I have some stuff for you guys to carry"

[sonicexelle-junkary]

PERDITION

@moderator-monnie made a fic and I wanted to make one too. So have the fanfic version of how everything began.

—————————————————

The day was calm, warm, peaceful. A perfect day for taking it easy. And for Sonic, Amy and Tail, they were. They had a blast telling each other stories, having drinks and food from the Mirage Saloon, a place that they haven’t been in in ages.

“Oh man, I forgot how good the drinks are here!” Sonic trilled with his usual strange mix of a drink in his hand.

Tails nodded in response. “Yeah. I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve been here. Makes me sad we don’t visit often.”

“I’ll say!” Amy entered. “Their deals for happy hour are to die for!” She received a smile and a second nod from the fox. But for Sonic, he was rather silent.

“Uh, speaking of happy hour… are we sure it’s still going on? Cause it seems rather dark to be 7.” He pointed out the window to a dark crimson sky, the entire world seemingly turned to shades of red and purple.

“That is… concerning.” Tails replied.

“Must be from Eggman. C’mon, let’s check it out!” And after he placed a bill onto the table, he ran out the door with Amy and Tails in co.

And boy, what a sight did they witness stepping out into the street. The look of terrified people screaming and running down the streets to any place that they could use for shelter, unsure of what to make of the situation, but nonetheless still terrified. But what were they running from? Well, as the group looked up to the sky, they found their answer.

A ginormous being, almost as big as the titans Sonic had faced before, standing there amongst the town. It’s figure so normal but uncanny, peaceful but unnerving. At the moment it didn’t do anything, it just stood there as it looked around, observing the creatures who seemed terrified of its sudden presence.

“What is that?!” Amy gasped.

“Whatever it is, it’s freaking everyone out!” He turned to his friends. “You two help anyone who needs it. I’ll let Super Sonic handle the big guy!”

They both nodded, but Tails paused. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” He said.

“If this guy is here to cause trouble, then I’m gonna be that trouble!” He gave the fox a grin before he zoomed away at the speed of sound, past crowds of people, up the sides of buildings. He made it as high as he could before the emeralds circled him, and in a flash he began to glow that bright golden colour of hope.

His presence now had caught the beings attention, as it watched him fly up like a comet in the sky, powerful and bright. Sonic could sense that it felt rather amused by all this.

“Alright buddy!” He shoved a finger out. “I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m already sick of seeing your ugly mug around here! So you better start explaining yourself, or I’m gonna— huh?”

Before he knew it, light shone from his chest, and in an instant, the emeralds flew out of him. He looked around and he and the emeralds were still suspended high above the ground. “Wha- what the heck?! What’s going on?!” He stammered as an anxiety fell over him.

He froze, as when he looked back ahead of him, the figures eye was only a few feet from his face. And as Sonic stared back, he could faintly hear a voice enter his mind.

“You’ll do nicely.”

And everything went black.

—————————————————

On the ground below, Amy and Tails helped direct people to any place safe. To buildings or modes of transportation that lead them out of town. Anywhere else seemed better than witnessing what was going on out here.

“Is that everyone?” Amy said.

“It seems like it.” Tails answered. “Hopefully Sonic can—“

A bright light caught their eyes, and looking up they saw a horrific sight that made their stomachs turn. A bright light emanated from Sonic, and soon engulfed him, like a beam of light shot out from the heavens above. It lasted for only a moment before the light disappeared. The being gone, and Sonic plummeting to the ground below.

“SONIC!” Tails yelped in horror seeing his brother’s body lifelessly fall. He lifted up Amy to a platform, closest to where he assumed Sonic would be.

“Oh Sonic, please be okay.” Amy wavered.

“SONIC! Are you there?” Tails called out. “Please! Say something! SONIC!”

Silence accompanied them. Only the gentle sound of wind broke it. It was an uneasy silence, one that would make anyone’s hair stand on end. Luckily that lasted only for a few but long seconds, as something arose from the seeming abyss that Sonic had fallen into.

It was him, or well part of him, it looked like him. It had his signature blue quills, but it didn’t have his face. Instead, all that was there was a hole, an endless void that was only accompanied by a single eye. A tattered cape laid neatly on its shoulders, and a floating halo rested just above its head. But that wasn’t the worst of it, no. As tied to the cape, and embedded neatly into its halo, we’re the chaos emeralds that Sonic had in him once before.

Amy and Tails could only watch in horror as the being stood itself up and gave a deep sigh. It didn’t even notice them at first, but once it did, it didn’t move. All it did was glance down at them, waiting a moment before it finally spoke.

“Oh.” It said. It’s lower lid curling up to mimic an invisible smile. “Hello there.”

[scaredofbrits]

Animatronic Stares

william afton x gn! reader

masterlist

lmk if you wanna be mutuals!!

———-

warnings; watching you, drinking, posion, choking, knives, mentions of blood, torture, cutting, dragging

please read the warnings <3

finally. you finished your dayshift at freddy’s, which happened to be the most pathetic job ever. maybe it would’ve been cooler if you made the robots but all you did was take orders. the main reason why you continued working at the place was because of mr. afton. god, was he perfect. the most amazing dilf was a manager to a kids restaurant, kind of sad. but today was gonna be different. you just knew it.

“shift is o-ver!” your bestfriend yelled from across the backstage, in response you just told him to be quiet. he ran over to you ‘sneakily’ and gave you a big smile, “gonna go visit mr. afton?” you couldnt help but begin to fidget around with your fingers. “uh, who told you that?” the animatronics stopped singing and all of a sudden the silence was on max volume. “nobody. just kinda figured cause you’re always looking at his door.” a red tint of blush overlayed your face, pure embarrassment. but then, the thought kicked in. “wait-.. does everyone know that i stare?” you asked your bestfriend, hoping for a no.

“well, obviously. word got around that you two were in a secret relationship.” he gave you a disappointed look and picked up his bag. the only thought that ran through your head was that mr. afton might’ve known about your feelings. which wouldn’t be good if you wanted to visit him today. “just go say hi to him y/n, he’s literally your boss. he wont take it the wrong way.”

you stood completely still as you watched your bestfriend leave the building. now, you happened to be the only worker left. other than william of course, who was watching your every move on the security camera.

once you finally built up guts to knock on william’s door, you took a deep breath and headed to his office. your steps made loud echos throughout the empty building and you felt like the animatronics were watching you with disgust. everytime you’d look back at them they’d be perfectly still and powered off. maybe you were just thinking that they were watching you.

tap, tap. you softly touched the door, not even knocking. to your suprise; william instantly opened the door. he saw your face and a smile crept upon his face, “yes?” you felt so tiny and unimportant whenever he looked down at you. he had noticed your shaking and couldn’t help but chuckle. his soft hand held yours, and butterflies took over your stomach. “is it alright if i… come in?” you felt the animatronic’s stare at you, instantly giving you goosebumps. you might’ve had your back facing them but you knew.

“why, of course.” mr. afton let go of your hand and walked into his office. he walked around his desk and softly caressed it with a finger, and you took a seat. your eyes watched as he so handsomely sat down in his chair. “now that we’re comfy.. is something upsetting you?” he asked, looking deep into your eyes. you started messing around with a bracelet you had on, because you were nervous to answer him. “no big reason, i just.. wanted to say hi.”

“well, im glad you came. do you drink?” he reached into a drawer of some sort and pulled out a bottle of wine. you stared at it for a moment, “yes, i do drink.” all of a sudden, a glass of wine was in front of you. truth be told; you actually didn’t drink. and william knew that too, so you probably wouldn’t take note of the strange taste. you slowly reached for the fragile bottle and brought it close to your mouth. not taking a sip yet. “does it smell bad or something?” the question shot you back to reality, and you denied it by taking a long drink of the wine.

“n-..no its great! see?” you placed the glass back down, looking up to see him oddly surprised. you giggled for a moment, feeling sort of woozy. it shocked william how fast the posion worked, you looked like you were spacing out. was a long sip all it took? “hmm, i can tell. let me help you up.” he got up and gently grabbed your arms.

he was leading you to the parts and service room, but you didnt care. all you could think about was him holding you. he opened the door by pushing against it hard, and he threw you on the floor. “what was that for?” you yelled, laughing a bit. he looked down at you and reached in his pocket. the light was beaming down on him, and he looked like an angel of some sort in the brightness. he got on one knee and wrapped his large hand around your neck.

you struggled to breathe as you felt a sharp sting on your stomach. he was holding you down as he cut you with a knife, wanting you to go through absolute hell. “mr. ah—afton! pl-..pleas..” you tried to speak to him even though you could barely inhale air. he let go of your neck, “how sad. a girl like you trusting a big scary man like me. now you get to suffer.” the fear took over your body entirely, maybe you should’ve listened to the stares. you attempted to cover your long scratch, but he cut your hand. you let out a loud scream.

“don’t move, luv.” he grabbed both of your hands and slammed them above your head, which made the cut sting even more. all you could think was ‘why’ as your body continued to be cut up and you continued to scream. the tears that fell from your eyes were pouring down like rain, almost. he held the knife against your neck and cut slowly, but not too deep. you tried to scream but the pain on your neck was too bad. he chuckled at your failure.

he placed the knife down and wrapped both of his hands around your stinging neck, then added force. you let out one final scream and the rest of your noises were whines. after choking you for a moment, he got up and put his knife back in his pocket. he looked down at you, still alive but stinging was felt all over your body. he got a good grip on your legs and dragged you out of the room, leaving behind a big puddle of blood. you could no longer look around because everything hurt, but now the animatronics had stares of sorrow.

they watched you get dragged back into his office, and they heard you get slammed against things. they knew you’d either be a new animatronic or just a dead body that nobody cared about.

[abrcmswrld]

Cherry

Edward Nashton x Reader

━━━━

Word Count: 3,079

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), gender neutral, but AFAB terms are used, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, not as much fluff and a little less melodramatic than my other fics, alcohol usage, drunk kissing

Summary: Reader is a bartender at the Iceberg Lounge and is used to the crowd of obnoxious rich men and their love for money and sex. Edward visits the club and stuns reader with his demeanor.

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble of smut and somehow it ended up being 3000 words so idk lmao eat up I reckon. Idk if I will post this one on Ao3 I'll decided later. Not beta'd once again sorry for typos and such!

Ao3 Link

He catches your eyes quickly. Oddly enough by doing nothing. It's peculiar behavior in a place like The Iceberg Lounge. The men here have over exaggerated egos that flow out of them through their words like poisonous honey.

They take what they want. And what do they want? Money. Power. A quick fuck. All of the above. "I'll take care of you, sweetheart. You just can't tell anybody." You're used to their words. You can brush it off as you pour them another drink. They always talk too much.

But in contrast, he says nothing at all. He sits hunched at the bar, the beam of party lights glimmering off his glasses. He doesn't have the style, the stature, or the stare of the other guys. Instead it feels like he's avoiding eye contact with you.

"Is there something I can get you?"

He looks stunned. "Uh- I'm okay. Thanks." You raise your brow. "You come to a club and actively decide not to drink?" Maybe it was mean of you to say that. He could be 10 years sober for all you know. But to sit at the bar in a place like this and not drink was strange.

"I like the... atmosphere."

You glance over him once more. "Mhm. Are you meeting somebody?" He replies quickly and short, "No."

"I just come to observe."

So maybe he wasn't what you thought. Maybe he was just another pervert here to eye the girls as they strolled through in their glittery getups and high heels. It's what most of the men came for, who were you to assume he'd be any different.

"If you're looking for a girl you're gonna have to wander a little further. I don't do dances, I just serve the drinks."

He furrows his brows. "I don't want a dance."

"Okay."

He's not looking at you, but you feel rude ending it there. "Is there a specific something you're...observing?" His eyes meet your again. "The people." You nod. "Ah. So you're a people watcher, got it." 

You're smiling, but he doesn't seem to get the humor in your tone. "Sorry. I'm just joking around." He nods. "You know, you're like the only guy here who hasn't asked to fuck me for money, so I guess I'm just a little refreshed." 

"They'll regret saying things like that one day."

"I sure hope so." 

For once, he smiles at you. 

━━━━

"It's you again."

You're almost shocked to see him again. You get a few weirdos around the place but nothing like him. You'd expected it to be a one time visit once he realized this place wasn't for people like him. But there he was. In that same blue windbreaker. He glanced up at your words.

"Yes."

You smile. You can't help it. He's much more tolerable than the other men that hang around the club. It feels like your input into your conversations matters and isn't shrouded in obnoxious glances at your tits.

"So, can I get you a drink this time?"

He hesitates for a moment, thinking.

"Yeah. A White Russian."

He hands you his I.D. before you can ask. Patrick Parker. You tuck that information away for future conversation.

"Got it."

And he's quick to sip away the drink soon after you give it to him. He's different tonight than when you first met him. Elevated. Possibly a bit manic. You can't break the silence before he does.

"Don't you think it's strange? The people that come in here."

You finish the drink you are preparing and glance up at him. He's looking right at you.

"You mean the rich old men?"

"I mean the mayor, the DA, half the police department."

You're not sure why he would be asking you this. Sure, you had seen them around, but was it not common knowledge that politicians and city officials don't give a shit about morals? What exactly would you be doing about it?

"I mean, sure, I've seen them around. Our lovely officials have never really had the best morals." He frowns at your words. "It's not just bad morals. It's blood on their hands." He continues,

"Wouldn't it be something if that could change?"

His gaze is making you hot. Like his stare is a heat lamp pointed right on you. "Yeah. I guess that'd be something." He smiles. It's wide a wild and completely contrasts his demeanor from the previous night. But it's cute, you think, and you can't help but give him a small smile back. 

A table is waving for another bottle in the distance. You excuse yourself, assuring him and the rest of the men at the bar that you'd be back swiftly.

When you return to the bar, he's gone.

━━━━

The next time you see him, you're finishing up a shift. He catches your arm as you exit the bar. "Hey." He smiles. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah. I'm off."

He seems to deflate a little. "Oh." It's pathetic. You think. But it also makes your heart pull. Something about his soft expression and touch of his hand makes you want to stay with him here all night.

"I can stay for a little." You plant yourself into the stool next to his.

And it's nice. He's very clearly intelligent. But also inquisitive. He's asked you every question you can think about the club and your life. And you had answered them honestly, because his presence wasn't prying and uncomfortable like others have been in the past.

"What do you do, Patrick."

He sips the drink in front of him, another White Russian. "I'm a forensic accountant." You hum in response, not entirely shocked. You can see him filling that role. "It's nothing exciting."

"I mean I'm sure it's exciting when someone actually commits fraud." You laugh. He follows suit. The way his eye wrinkle when he smiles makes your heart beat a little faster.

He's a gentle person. His voice as soft as his features. And once again he's so different than he was the previous night. He's calm. Happy. And by the time the two of you have downed a couple drinks, you're laughing and leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Oh man, it's been a while since I've actually had fun here." You're still slightly giggling when you meet his eyes. "Thank you for this." You hardly think when you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. It stuns him, but your nerves aren't nearly as shot as they would be if you were completely sober. You hardly notice the warmth of his hand smoothing over your hip, until he scoops you toward him by the small of your back and presses his lips to yours.

His lips are soft like the rest of his features and he's gentle. You keep your eyes closed and your forehead against his for a moment after the kiss ends. You should go home, stop while you're ahead, before you make things awkward. But his hand is still warm against your back and he has treated you so nicely the entire night. You can't help yourself when you dive in once again, this time more assertive. He gasps as you tentatively lick into his mouth. He tastes like alcohol and coffee.

His eyes are half lidded when you pull away. You want to look at him forever, but instead you choose to escape the eyes of the creeps outside the club and grab his hand leading him back in. He follows obediently, not dragging his feet. His eyes are wide as you shut the bathroom door and click the lock. 

The club bathroom is just as dim as the rest of the club, the only source of light is a black light, but he still looks heavenly when you push his back against the door of the closed stall. His small gasps with each moment sound so good in the echo of the room. Your lips are on his neck in seconds. His hands float above your hips, hesitating. "You can touch me. It's okay."

He lays a hand on each hip, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel the way his cock is straining against his dress pants. You smile against his neck. "Does that feel good?"

"Y-Yes." He's whispering.

You move your mouth to meet his, tongue meeting his once again. Strangled noises are escaping his throat through the kisses. You almost feel bad. He had been so nice to you, such a gentleman, all night long, and you were paying him in kisses in a dirty bathroom stall.

You trail a hand down his chest, stomach, until you reach the bulge in his pants. The pressure of your palm against his cock makes him whimper. It's delicious. "I like the noises you make for me." His eyes are wide. "I thought you didn't do these things?" 

You smile. "I don't. Not for money." 

He huffs out a laugh. "I-I'm special?" You squeeze the hardness under your hand. "Yeah, honey. You're special." 

And it's over just as quick as it had started. His choked off moan and the way he pushes your hand away, overstimulated, is all you need to know that he's come in his pants. His face is flushed and his hair is a mess. You leave a kiss on his lips before reaching to unlock the door. "What about you? Should I-" You shake your head and smile. "You can walk me to my cab." 

So he does just that. Before he turns to leave you grab his hand. He faces you, still flushed and tussled. You kiss his cheek before getting into the waiting car. 

"Be safe getting home."

A couple of drinks were never good for you.

━━━━

He doesn't come back after that. Which is fine. You tell yourself. You were both drunk the night you had kissed him. You doubt he even felt anything about you. But deep down you're disappointed.

Your shift had been long, boring, and unusually dead. But you had powered through it. Your feet ached, and it felt good to walk freely and let the cool air of Gotham hit your face.

It's relaxing for only a moment. Until you see him. He's in the shadows, but his glasses and features are unmistakable. You can't help but yell out to him. "Patrick!"

He doesn't respond. Before thinking with a rational mind, you're striding towards him. It's then that you've caught his attention, he looks stunned like an animal caught under bright headlights.

He's different. Same glasses and hair, but he's ditched his work shirt and windbreaker for a simple green hoodie and leather gloves. It is cold. You've become more aware as the wind hit your bare legs.

"Hey! You haven't been around."

He nods shyly. "I've been busy. Sorry." You shake your head. "No, I mean- it's okay. We all get busy sometimes. I just wanted to check on you." You hesitate before finishing. "I missed you."

You can hear the way his breath catches in his throat. He stands with his hands flat to this sides. Holding back but- "I missed you too." You smile.

"I don't think I'm gonna be hanging around here anymore."

You cock your head to side. "Did I drive you away? Did the drinks suck that bad?" You laugh, hoping to break his tense posture. But he doesn't laugh with you. Instead he keeps a straight face as his eyes bore into you. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you. I shouldn't have let things go that far. We can forget-" He cuts you off.

"I think you might become a distraction."

You're stunned and the words light a fire inside your stomach. So he had been thinking about you. Thinking about that night. You only hoped you were a good distraction.

"That's too bad. I wanted to see you again. "

His eyes fall over your figure. He's quiet, that's what you like most about him. He doesn't say anything unless it's absolutely necessary. He'd rather calculate what his next move will be in his head than let nonsensical banter fall from his lips. He only speaks when it's necessary. But he had spoken to you all those nights before. He had asked to.

And you're suddenly remembering the way he looked under the lights at the club. He'd been so out of place, but his soft features had looked perfect to you. You're remembering his face under the dim bathroom light, and the faces he had made...the sounds he had made, and as much as you want to continue to stare at him under the dim streetlight, you can't stop yourself from grabbing him by his hand and pulling him into the secluded alleyway.

You're both shrouded in darkness, but you can still see the glint of his glasses and the glimmer of his stare. "Am I a good distraction?" It comes out as a whisper, and you never let your eyes leave his. You practically stop breathing until his answer comes. He nods.

You're holding him by the crease of his elbows. There's something dangerous within his eyes. It makes you feel like prey in the arms of a predator, but you won't show him fear. You crave to break him down. You pull him closer by the collar of the soft hoodie. He's close enough that you're sure he can feel your hot breath hitting the skin of his neck.

"Do you wanna fuck me?"

You almost stun yourself with your words. It was something you'd heard so often from the other girls in the club. They knew it could make them good cash, but you had never been a part of that lifestyle. You were just the bartender.

Still, you relish in the sound of his inhale and the goosebumps that blossom on the skin that's visible to you. You're treading a thin line. You're not thinking with your brain, and are only acting on the heat in your core. Might as well, you think. You press an open mouthed kiss onto the soft skin under his jaw. He sighs a soft "Yes." And you can't help but grin into the crook of his neck.

You don't say a word as you unbuckle the belt and unzip the zipper of his dress pants. You pause to pull your panties down under your skirt to your knees. "Then fuck me, baby."

It's filthy the way he manhandles you until your cheek is pressed against the brick wall of the dark alley. He'd seemed like such a gentle man in all of your interactions, but he had forced your body around so easily it makes your stomach flutter. You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding at your entrance. He's quick to shove two fingers into your mouth, muffling your small cries as he thrusts into you.

"Have to be quiet."

You can't help but moan against his fingers. A passerby could see you in this moment and you wouldn't bat an eye. You were fucking a man you had only met a week ago in an alley. And his cock is hitting spots inside you that make you forget every thought in your head. He's so different. So forceful. Like he just wants to take and take and take from you. 

He throws his head back. "Fuck- You're tight." His body is forcing yours forward into the wall in front of you with each sharp thrust. It's only in this moment that you realize how tall he is. He'd minimized himself within the walls of the club, but now you could see the real him.

"Do you let the other men fuck you like this?"

His arms are pulling your upper body off the brick wall until your back is pressed against his chest, your head resting against the dip of his shoulder.

"No- fuck- No. You know that. They're disgusting."

You can't help but smile up at him when he narrows his eyes down at you.

"What if I'm disgusting too?"

He holds your face up to his with a grip on your chin. You give in. "I don't care." He smiles at this and dips his head to connect your lips. You can taste the slight tinge of a past cigarette and coffee. He keeps your face cradled close to his even after the kiss breaks. You find his name falling from your mouth in breathy whispers, "Patri-"

"Edward. Call me Edward."

Edward? Had he given you a fake I.D.? Or perhaps it was his middle name? You're too blissed out to care as a sharp thrust has both you and him sighing out moans. You push away the thoughts of the red flags.

He pushes your head to face something illuminating in the sky above the club's alley. A symbol resembling a bat surrounded by beaming light.

"Things are gonna change soon. None of those pigs in that club will see it coming. But it's time to clean house."

You shutter at his words. He's close. You can tell by the way his thrusts are sloppier and his legs shake into them. His gloved hand has reached between your legs to rub desperate circles around your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching. "Edward. I want you to come."

His features are falling more and more submissive as his thrust grow erratic. He's chasing his peak desperately, whining out moans, "Yes! Please- please let me come."

You can help but crack a smile as you feel yourself approaching your own end. "Come with me, baby. You can do that for me."

And he does. You're both soaring over the edge, and his whimpers and broken moans are so loud in your ear. His hot breath is hitting your neck and you can feel his cum dripping down your leg. It's the perfect form of overstimulation.

He straightens his body as he tucks himself back into his pants. You pull your soiled panties back up to your hips and face him. He's still breathing in heavy heaves. He had lied to you about his name. He had fucked you like a crazed man in an alley and preached to you about change. Always change. You think back to his words the first couple of nights you met him.The red flags were certainly there, but for some reason you find yourself not caring at all. 

"Come home with me tonight. Stay with me. Since you're done coming around and all."

"Okay."

"Then you can tell me why you lied to me about your name, and the real reason you haven't been around." 

He hesitates before giving in. 

"Okay." 

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 7 - The Unknown.

Reader: Looks like there's only one bed.

Eddie: Of course there's only one bed, it's my bedroom. Why would there be two? You knew this before you came over.

Reader: I said it looks like there's only one bed. 

Eddie: Well shit you're right there's only one bed

It's long, it's dialogue heavy, but there's fluffy smut in a fucking bed this time.

Chapter warnings: MDI (18+ only), mutual masturbation, p in v sex, explicit language, mentions of drugs. I'm so tired so I haven't a clue if i've left anything out.

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

You’re a ball of nervous energy as you cycle to work, you tell yourself there’s no reason to be. You were only going to Eddie's place, no big deal, just a couple of pals hanging out. The fact you had shaved, scrubbed, buffed, plucked and exfoliated every reachable inch of skin on your body at 8am was completely unrelated.

You and Eddie had agreed the best option was for him to pick you up straight from work at five, well not straight from work more like four blocks over, you didn’t have a death wish. 

You had told your dad you would be staying over at Robin’s tonight, which left you with two remaining issues. The first being you had to ask Robin to cover for you, which meant telling her you would be decidedly elsewhere. The second, and the one that filled you with the biggest sense of unease, was the implication that you would be staying overnight at Eddie’s; and the strange little flutters that accompanied it, flutters that you resolutely refused to recognise as butterflies.

“Morning!” You say breezing into the store.

“What’s got you so chipper?” Robin looks at you slightly disgusted, leaning on the counter.

“Nothing, nothing.” You sidle up to her, resting your head on her shoulder with a sweet smile. “Just happy to see my best friend.”

“What do you want?” She asks flatly, rolling her eyes at the display.

“I need you to say I’m at your place tonight if my dad asks.” You simper, her eyebrows contracting in suspicion.

“Why, where will you actually be?” 

“With the guy from the party.” You say it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid, hoping Robin would simply agree and drop the subject; but this was Robin. She turns to face you, her expression burning with curiosity.

“Holy shit! Is this a second date? Are you going on a second date?!” She all but screeches, and you find yourself having PTSD flashbacks of Steve walking in.

“No, it is not a second date, mostly because I don’t think the original hook up counts as a first. Also, I seriously need you to start working on your volume control.” You say through gritted teeth.

“But this is huge!” She exclaims, holding your forearms. “Wait, I thought you said he doesn’t live around here and was just visiting for the party?” 

  Shit! You did say that the day after you and Eddie made the pact, in an attempt to embezzle the story enough to throw her off the scent.

You’re saved from the pressure of a response when Steve comes in from the backroom.

“Ahoy there ladies!” He sings, hopping up onto the counter.

“Didn’t work on the ladies at Scoops Ahoy, not gonna work now dingus, especially as I’m a lesbian. So, please stop.” Robin begs.

“Are you a lesbian Robin? You should have said something.” He bites back sarcastically.

“I don’t know, it would have worked on me, I always thought you looked pretty cute in the outfit.” It was out of your mouth before you could stop it, and you were rewarded with Steve blushing profusely.

“Oh - uh - thanks.” He grins bashfully.

“Why is everyone so chipper?” Robin huffs, flouncing off.

__________________________________________________________

The day seemed to fly by until you got to 4pm, you started to zone out every 10 minutes trying to work out if you were excited or terrified. There was a part of you that wanted to call Eddie and cancel, and then there was the part of you that couldn’t wait to see him; the stupid little flutters erupting once more. You were logging returns with Steve, once again, when he nudged you.

“Hey, you in there?” He says with a smile.

“Yeah, sorry, must have zoned out.” You mumble embarrassed.

He regards you carefully for a moment.

“Something on your mind?”

Only about 100 million things, you think wryly.

“Nope, I’m all good, just only so many times you can read the word overdue before it starts to look like gibberish.” You laugh lightly

“Very true.” He chuckles. “But, I didn’t know if it had anything to do with your date tonight.” He presses, clearly testing the waters. 

“Fucking Buckley.” You snap. “I’m going to murder her. How come she can keep a secret about another dimension but not about my date?!” Mentally correcting yourself on the word date.

“Hey, don’t blame Robin, she’s excited for you” He soothes. “So you settled on seeing the mystery guy again, only last week you didn’t seem so sure?”

“He’s been very persistent.” You say truthfully.

“Is it serious?” His asks quickly, voice oddly stilted.

“I - uh - it’s not really like - we’re not at that stage yet.” You stammer, a little thrown at Steve’s sudden interest in your love life.

“Just be careful honey. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” He says quietly.

“I think I'm more likely to hurt him.” You say honestly.

“How come?” Steve asks in surprise, placing a comforting hand on the small of your back, which short circuits your brain.

“It’s complicated.” You manage to force out.

“It shouldn’t be.” He says, the hand now rubbing in circles, you were actually going to pass out. 

“You and Nancy have had complications though.” You point out, feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief when drops his hand.

“Yeah but me and Nance, we always find our way back to each other. I can be myself around her, you know? No bullshit, it’s easy.” 

  You don't know which throws you more, the fact you weren’t wanting to pitch yourself off the nearest bridge in despair as was your usual mindset when Steve talks about Nancy, or that the only face you could see as he talked was Eddie’s; although that might have something to do with the fact he was walking into the store with a shit-eating grin. You were hallucinating, surely.

“Munson.” Steve greeted him from behind you.

Ok, not a hallucination, commence panic attack.

“Harrington.” Eddie acknowledged with a nod, strolling past you towards the Sci-Fi section.

“Hey, you ok honey?” Steve put a hand on your arm, evidently the panic in your brain was showing on your face. 

“What? Oh yeah just uh, thinking about what you said. I’m gonna put these back out.” You say quickly, grabbing a random handful of tapes with shaking hands.

“Ok, I’m gonna help Rob in the stockroom whilst it’s quiet.” You nod, barely hearing him, eyes trained on Eddie’s back. You wait until the stockroom door closes, effectively sprinting the length of the store, hitting him hard in the arm.

  “What the fucking fuck are you doing here?” You hiss furiously.

“Ah, jeez! That’s not a very nice way to greet a customer.” He gripes, massaging his bicep.

“Don’t be fucking cute Eddie, what are you doing here?” You ask again, voice exceptionally high pitched.

“Renting a movie and getting assaulted apparently.” He says, still wincing. "You like Sci-Fi? Alien?"

You just stare at him, unsure if he's insulting you. He huffs, picking a tape off the shelf shaking it in front of you.

“Ridley Scott’s 1979 masterpiece, Alien. I thought we could watch it tonight. But, how have you not seen this already?" He asks incredulously.

"My dad only likes Westerns and war films." You shrug. "Is it scary? I'm not good with scary films."

Eddie smirks, leaning in so closely you can feel his body heat, your breath hitches.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll protect you." He glances at the stockroom door before pressing a chaste kiss to your surprised lips.

"What was that for?" You ask quietly.

"You're adorable when you're flustered." He grins, you feel warm from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, eyes darting about in a panic. "Yeah, like that." He adds softly, stealing another kiss, longer and firmer than the last, which has you clinging onto his jacket.

  The tinkling bell of the door makes you jump apart with a gasp, some old lady coming in with young grandchildren, your heart hammering at your recklessness.

“Alien, will be fine.” You say quickly, heading back towards the counter to process the rental, just in time for Robin to emerge.

“Hey Buckley.” Eddie says casually, leaning on the counter, tapping out a rhythm with his ringed fingers.

“Hey Munson, recruited any new cult members lately?” She asks playfully.

“Not yet, but the night is still young.” He grins.

“Uh, $3 please.” You say awkwardly, watching the exchange. 

“Oh and a bag of Red Vines, got a hot date tonight and she’s a big fan.” He smirks so wide it looks like it hurts, your eyes feel like they’re going to drop out of your head at his open audacity, scrambling clumsily for the money on the counter as Robin hands him the sweets.

“Always a pleasure ladies, see you at school.” He calls, leaving the store with a spring in his step, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he’s trying to send you into an early grave.

“Isn’t it time you got off babe?” Robin says, knocking you out of your reverie.

“What?” You ask skittishly, she points at the clock on the wall with a grin, 5pm, and under the grin there was another look on her face that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

___________________________________________________________

You cycle to the Library as agreed, still pondering over Robin’s expression, Eddie sat on the bumper of the van waiting, trademark grin still firmly in place.

“Your face ever get tired from smirking all the time?” You ask, dismounting, he ignores you stowing your bike into the back.

“Cute basket, princess. You also get handlebar streamers with this model?” He snipes.

“Fuck off Munson.” You say but find yourself grinning too.

  You clamber into the cab, already rooting about in your backpack, excitedly extracting your precious cassette tape.

“What is that?” Eddie asks warily, climbing in the driver’s side. 

“A mixtape.” You smile

“And where, pray tell, are you planning on playing it?”

You point hopefully towards the car tape player.

“No, nope, absolutely not.” He says resolutely, shaking his head.

“Aw c’mon Eddie, please?” You plead, stringing out the please.

“There is no way I'm letting you play your shitty music in my van.” 

  You narrow your eyes, changing tack, leaning close, you softly suck a hickey into the side of his neck, your hand rubbing gently over his inner thigh.

“That’s really mean.” He whines, huffing out a breath.

“You can punish me later.” You purr.

“Oh I intend to sweetheart.” He growls, ducking his head to kiss you, with a harsh nip at your bottom lip. “Alright you can play one song, one, that’s it.”

You clap happily, Eddie reluctantly ejecting a Black Sabbath tape, and taking yours from you with the same look someone gives dogshit.

“Side A please.” You grin, dancing in your seat as the opening notes of Gypsy - Fleetwood Mac fill the van.

“Oh god it’s worse than I thought, Fleetwood Mac? Seriously?” He asks aghast, but you see his fingers drumming the rhythm as he pulls away.

“I love Fleetwood Mac, and this is my favourite song ever.” You sigh, singing along absentmindedly. “And it all comes down to you, well you know that it does, lightning strikes maybe once, maybe twice.”

“Not a bad set of pipes you got there sweetheart.” He says smiling at you fondly, making you trail off in embarrassment, switching to humming instead for the rest of the drive.

____________________________________________________________

True to his word and much to your disappointment, Eddie pressed the stop button before Dancing Queen could really get started.

“We definitely need to expand your musical horizons princess, I mean ABBA?” He says looking like he might throw up.

“That’s rich coming from you.” You snort, as he pulls into the trailer park, your nerves rising to the surface once more.

The trailer was much as you expected, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, there was something comforting about the way it was so lived in. Multiple shelves and hooks filled with collectable mugs and caps, the fridge littered with magnets and photos, the rundown mismatched furniture set on swirling threadbare 1960’s carpeting.

“It’s uh not much.” Eddie says nervously, moving to hide a few dirty dishes into the sink.

“I think it’s great.” You say honestly with a smile, giving some of the mugs a closer inspection.

“It’s my Uncle, he’s a bit of a fanatic.” He mutters, coming up beside you.

“My Gramps was the same, except he was into model trains and cars, he always let me play with them though.” You recall happily, putting the mug back on the rickety shelf.

“So, uh, bathroom is there, kitchen you can see, obviously.” Eddie rambles, pointing in various directions. “And uh my room is the one at the end.”

“Do you mind if I dump my bag and get changed?” You ask, feeling bunched up, still in your uncomfortable work uniform.

“Yeah sure, I'll order the pizza.” He says, shrugging his jacket off. “Any preference to toppings?”

“Nah, I'm easy.” You say, instantly regretting your phrasing as he winks at you, you roll your eyes and flip him the bird heading into the bedroom as he laughs behind you.

  Much like the rest of the trailer, every available surface in Eddie’s room was occupied, various candy wrappers, empty beer cans, dirty mugs, clothing, drug paraphernalia, and nudie mags. A massive amp was slotted next to the bed, smaller speakers piled up in a corner. Band posters covered the walls, along with a huge homemade Corroded Coffin banner, next to it in pride of place suspended in a wall stand was Eddie’s electric guitar.

“She’s a beaut’ huh?” Eddie says proudly, making you jump.

“She’s a she?” You ask, watching in amusement as walks past you to place a two finger kiss to the body.

“Of course she’s a she.” He scoffs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Uh - pizza will be about 20 minutes.” 

“Ok.” You say standing awkwardly, change of clothes held in your hand.

“Sorry about the mess, I was going to clean but wasn’t sure whether you were actually going to come or not, and then I got into this whole thing about whether cleaning was a good idea because I know I'm not gonna keep up with it. So I thought maybe best if i just -”

“Uh - Ed’s I still need to get changed.” You cut him off.

“Shit yeah, sorry, I'll shut up and get the film set up. K, bye.” He says abruptly leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

  You had gone the comfortable but kinda cute route of soft grey pyjama shorts and an old oversized sky blue t-shirt, Eddie was crouched down by the VCR player hitting it intermittently when you came back into the room.

“C’mon on you piece of shit.” He hisses, a final smack and you could hear the tape whirr into life inside. “Hallelujah!”

“You know that’s really bad for the tape right?” You say, making him jump, he stands up taking in your appearance, his staring making you feel self conscious.

“Wow” He breathes.

“What?” You ask, suddenly worried your top has a massive hole in it.

“You look - Can I just -?” He moves quickly, pulling you to him, lips moving against yours, his hands in your hair. You wrap your arms around his waist, allowing him to deepen the kiss, heart slamming in your chest as he backs you up against the wall, one of the caps behind you falling unnoticed. “You’re so -” Eddie is cut off by a heavy knock on the door, you groan resting your head in the crook of his neck.  “Fucking cockblocking pizza.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair.

___________________________________________________________

“So just how scary is this film? You ask warily, legs tucked under you as you take a bite out of the double pepperoni and jalapeno pizza.

“It’s so-so.” Eddie replies evasively, settling back comfortably with his own slice.

“Eddie.” You say warningly, as the creepy music starts and the opening title card develops into the word ‘ALIEN.’

“Sweetheart, you’ll be fine there’s just a couple of jump-scares.” He reassures you, passing you a cracked open can of beer.

  You’re about 30 minutes into the film when it starts to get scary, John Hurt’s character coming across hundreds of gross looking eggs. Eddie has his arm around you, your face half hidden in his chest, the pizza forgotten on the coffee table.

“Why would you go near it?” You whine, turning further into the soft fabric of his usual Hellfire Club t-shirt.

“Keep watching baby.” He encourages, a big smile on his sadistic little face, you cringe, eyes almost squeezed shut as the egg slowly opens in tense silence, a Facehugger suddenly flies out and you scream.

“No, Ed’s I don’t like it!” You cry, jumping out of your skin. “Can we watch something else, please?” You beg not caring about how pathetic you sound.

“You really not enjoying it?” He asks, gently tilting your face up to look at him, you shake your head.

“I told you I didn’t like scary movies.” You mumble petulantly, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“What if I distracted you during the scary parts?” He queries, thumb stroking along your jawline, well it didn’t take a genius to see where this was going, you nodded trying not to seem overly enthusiastic.

He leans down to kiss you, hand still cupping your jaw, his other arm cradling you about the waist. 

“Your heart is still beating so fast princess.” He murmurs against your lips, feeling him smile. “You should probably lay down, wouldn’t want you to faint.”  

“Smooth Munson.” You giggle but allow him to manoeuvre you into a lying position on the broken down couch, his hand snaking under your shirt to stroke at the soft skin of your stomach, feeling brave you run your hand down over his back, cupping his ass.

The film continues, completely ignored as you make out, the screams and shouts hardly registering; Eddie’s stuttering breaths and small groans filling your ears instead.

“Ed’s.” You say quietly after another 20 minutes, his attention now focused on your neck. “Did you - did you want to go to bed?” You stammer slightly. 

“You tired?” He asks in a daze, lips all pink and kiss bitten, cheeks flushed. You shake your head slowly, biting your lip.

“Oh.” Is all he says before his face splits into a grin, hauling you up, and kissing you hard once more as he leads you to his room.

  He switches on a side-lamp, illuminating the room in a soft orange glow, you stand nervously unsure what to do, the bed looking intimidatingly huge at that moment. Eddie notices the uncertainty in your expression, the boldness you felt in the living room fading fast, leaving you self conscious and overthinking once more.

“Hey. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do baby. We can go back to making out on the couch, believe me I won’t complain.” He says softly, giving you a small smile. 

You’re trembling slightly as you resolutely pull your shirt over your head, before pushing your shorts down, leaving you in your bra and panties. You physically see Eddie’s pupils dilate, and try not to laugh at him as he frantically strips down to his boxers, the pair of you staring intently at each other for a moment. Trying to stay brave you step forward into his space, fingers tracing over the exposed tattoos on his chest, noticing how his muscles jump at your touch. He’s mapping out your skin too, hands starting at your hips, thumbs running upwards until he hits a 2 inch scar on your right side near your ribs, curving towards your back, a repeated swipe acting as a question.

“Took a spill on my roller-blades when I was 7, fell into a picket fence, 10 stitches.” You mumble looking down.

“Badass.” He says with a soft smile, ducking to place a tender kiss to the raised line.

 You take his hand, walking backwards until your legs hit the foot of the bed, shifting yourself into the centre, removing your bra ignoring the rush of heat to your cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful.” Eddie breathes, staring at you, eyes blazing. “Do you know how much I've thought about having you in my bed like this?”

You can only shake your head, chest heaving with nerves and anticipation.

He kneels on the bed, crawling over to you, lips hovering over yours, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Eddie.” You sigh so softly you barely hear it yourself, he captures your lips in a slow heated kiss, and you relish in the feeling of having him so close just two scraps of clothing keeping you from each other. It was brand new, compared to your previous rushed encounters, the notion that you could both take your time almost overwhelming. You take his hand in yours guiding him down to your covered mound, back arching as his fingertips make contact with your clit, every nerve ending already feeling shot.

“So wet sweetheart.” He murmurs, his tongue licking into your mouth as he gently circles your bud. You reach down to stroke at his cock, the room feeling overheated, your kissing and soft movements the only sound in the trailer.

“Ed’s, need you.” You whisper, unable to wait any longer.

“You have me baby.” He says gruffly, sliding your panties down your legs, and then discarding his boxers.

You blow out a shaky breath, completely exposed and wanting as he rolls on a condom, thighs quivering as you let them fall open, Eddie slotting himself back in between.

  He pushes in slowly, allowing you to feel him inch by inch, chest to chest, foreheads pressed together, fingers laced, lips moving as one. Eddie was more rocking than thrusting, neither of you wanting to lose contact with the other.

“Perfect, you’re so perfect sweetheart.” He sighs, hitching your legs up to wrap around his waist, allowing him to go deeper than you thought possible.

“Eddie.” You whine, neck rolling as he hits a spot within you that has you seeing stars. “So good.”

“My sweet little thing, god your cunt feels like it was made for me.” He moans, bracing your hands above your head, holding them to the headboard with just one of his, the other now at your hip helping you to angle up.

You can’t do anything other than undulate below him, nipping at his neck and chest, the sound of your body slapping together making fresh wetness surge from your pussy, covering his cock in cream.

“Ed’s, I'm so close, please.” You whimper, searching for his lips, the coil in your belly unbearably tight. 

“I’ve got you sweetheart, just take what you need.” He pants, thrusting in earnest, hand lifting from your hip to thumb at your clit, you unravel in a silent cry, tears wetting your cheeks from the intensity.

“Good girl, good girl.” Eddie chants, releasing your hands from his grip so you can hold onto his back, nails scratching down the skin. He grips the headboard this time, fucking you hard enough that the bed thumps dully against the wall.

“Eddie, fuck.” You cry as he pushes you through into a second orgasm, your walls clamping painfully hard around him.

“I’m gonna - fuck I'm gonna cum.” He swears, mashing his lips to yours, hips stilling, cock seated deep within your spasming cunt.

“I - fuck.” He huffs, effectively collapsing on top of you, head buried in your neck. You run your fingers up and down his spine, trying to get a handle on your erratic breathing. “I think I’m dead.” He groans.

“You don’t get out of the pact that easily, Munson.” You sigh, laughter rippling through you both, sending sparks where you’re still joined. Eddie holds himself off you, pressing a kiss to your nose. 

“Stop trying to kill me then sweetheart.” He nuzzles you, and it makes your heart sputter and jolt.

“We should get cleaned up.” You say, nudging him gently.

Eddie extracts himself from you with slow kisses, and delicate touches, rolling to the edge of the bed you assume to dispose of the condom.

He lays back down, drawing you in close.

“5 minutes sweetheart, just 5 minutes.” He breathes softly, tracing nonsense patterns across your heated skin.

“5 minutes.” You agree, already feeling your eyelids start to close. 

Taglist: @avalon-wolf @mystars123 @lolalanaie @eddiemunsonsgf2 @eddieslildarling @bakugouswh0r3 @sidthedollface2 @81rain @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @winchester-angel @bimbobaggins69 @tuskjohnny

[ghostly-penumbra]

Father and Sons

Ao3 FFN

Summary: Clockwork is Danny's loving, adoptive grandpa. Time is the Endless' neglectful father. They are one and the same.

Chapter One: First Meeting

- - -

Dream of the Endless stepped into his father's realm and found himself alone. Neither Dream of the Cats nor Hope Beautiful Lost Nebula had come with him. This wouldn't affect him, he would carry on.

He walked down the sprawling garden and stumbled then upon a young boy wearing his father's sygil in a purple cloak, not unlike one his father might use when seen by humans.

The boy stopped dead in his tracks when he saw him, the tilted watering can still spilling its content with no end in sight.

"Uh… hello?" He asked tentatively, the can still tipped. "May I help y—?"

"Who are you?" Dream asked bluntly, straightforward, looking at this child whose identity and dreams were blurred to him, being from a different time period than him, and his father's realm not being a Soft Place nor Dream's jurisdiction.

"Oh! That's- I'm… not supposed to just give my name to strangers." He trailed off, and finally straightened the watering can. "I'll… go get my grandpa." He turned and flew away, giving the perplexed Lord Shaper one last look before vanishing from sight.

"Dream." His father's voice had him turn around and there he was, shifting in shape through ages.

A toddler, a child, an old man, a younger man, if time could truly be described as a man, but always, invariably, with a jagged scar going across his eye.

Next to him stood the boy, looking between father and son with green eyes full of human curiosity, but ultimately leaning towards Dream's father with ease.

"What do you want?" His father asked as his beard vanished to give way to a toddler's impassive face. "You only come here if you want something."

"Can't a son see his father with no motive other than to wish him well?" He asked instead of answering.

This was unscripted. As it often did with his father, being in his presence was to step in loops and whorls of someone else's design, leaving Dream wrong-footed, regardless of where he stepped.

But for that same reason a strange child trailing after his father and referring to him as 'his grandpa' would not deter him from what he had come here for.

It did make him wonder, though…

"Of course you can," Father Time was saying, "but you never do. If any of you or your siblings visit is because you need my help."

"Siblings?! How many children do you have?" The boy almost shouted in what he seemed to believe was a whisper.

Dream turned his gaze upon him, the intense cosmos in his eyes having him shrink, abashedly, behind his father's figure once again.

Dream's father closed his eyes for one second – or a dozen. Or a year, or seventy, or a century – and then opened them again and turned his head towards his companion. "Seven." Was all he said.

"Damn!"

And against anything Dream would have thought, his father smiled, small but genuine. Fond.

"As you well know, I am older than dust."

They were making their way through the garden, where some plants grew and flourished or perished or even returned to seeds as Time approached them, and his father picked two apples, one of which he handed to the boy – who was now floating after Father Time –, and the other he offered to Dream.

"I'm not hungry."

"You will be."

Dream disregarded his father's remark and ignored the proffered fruit, even as the boy happily bit into his own.

"I wasn't travelling alone." Dream said. "Why am I the only one here?"

"You were planning on bringing your friends, uninvited, to my domain, son?" His father asked, his youthful face at odds with the rotting fruit in his hands.

"Not friends, no. A cat, who is also me. And a girl."

His father held a hand to his forehead and sighed, before looking back up at Dream whilst he handed the fresh apple to… his grandson.

"What do you want, Dream?"

"Help me, father. Help me."

- - -

[Chapter Two]

[kikyoupdates]

Indebted ⭑˚🥀⭑ 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑛

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

Following your mother’s recent passing, you are visited by a group of men claiming that your father abandoned all his debt and obligations, leaving you to take his place.

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A few days had passed since you’d started working in the office. The violence that had taken place on the first day had come as a shock to you, but after that, nothing too noteworthy happened. With Yuki’s help, you were able to complete all the tasks that were assigned to you and avoided incurring Ryu’s wrath.

One evening, however, he said something that caught you off guard.

“You’ve been off school for a while now. If you want to pass your courses, you should probably start attending again soon.”

“Uh… sorry?”

“Your university,” he frowned. “Weren’t you set to graduate this year? You may have to drop a course or two in order to accommodate your new schedule, but I can’t very well have you dropping out altogether.”

You were still confused. “So, you’re letting me keep attending school?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“But… why?”

Perhaps it was better not to ask, but you couldn’t help it. The night he’d taken you to be brought back here, you were convinced your old life was over. Based on how large your father's debt apparently was, you didn’t think he’d allow you to retain any sort of autonomy.

“Education means a career,” Ryu said. “A career means that eventually, you’ll be earning more money for me. Right now, you’re just working on menial tasks and freeing up some time for my other associates. You aren’t actually helping put a dent in the debt at all. Or what? Were you happy to just keep on being my little servant for the rest of your life?”

“Right. I understand now.” You nodded meekly, forcing a smile. “Thank you for this. School is very important to me.”

Every now and then, Ryu would look at you in a sort of bewilderment. In a way that implied your behavior was absolutely baffling to him.

“You’re always thanking me,” he mused. “Even though I just told you that the money you’ll be making will go to me.”

“I know that. Still, it feels nice knowing that I’ll get to see my education through till the end. My mother would have wanted that for me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that so? Good for you, staying positive. But I wouldn’t get too comfortable. You’re only working in the office for now because I still haven’t figured out what to do with you yet. One way or another, you will need to start bringing in some money. I’m not willing to wait another year or two to start seeing results. I need to know that you’re going to pay your dues.”

Ryu’s earlier threat still hung heavy in the air. No matter what, you wanted to do avoid doing that at all costs. Something, anything, just not that. You weren’t sure what yet, but you were going to have to find a way.

“I’ll pay you back,” you swallowed. “I swear that I will.”

“For your sake, you’d better hope so. Head to bed now. I’ll arrange for someone to drive you to campus tomorrow morning.”

He left the room and slid the door shut behind him.

It felt strange returning back to classes after everything that had happened. You knew that you couldn’t very well explain your circumstances to anyone. Ryu would be sure to punish you—most likely with death. Which is why you knew that this wasn’t really an escape, but it felt nice to detach yourself from your current reality and pretend like everything was okay, at least for a little while.

You couldn’t say that you had that many friends. Not that people didn’t like you, but you’d always been so busy juggling school and your other jobs, on top of visiting your mother while she was sick. You’d never really had much time to bond with others. You had a good few people that you felt comfortable around, but no one that you could really say you were all that close to.

Well, maybe there was one person.

“[Name]!” said person exclaimed. It was one of your classmates, Rintaro. He was a kind-hearted guy in the same program as you who you’d met last year. You’d started off as friendly acquaintances, but over time, you’d become a lot closer. You’d only ever thought of him as your friend, but your mother used to joke about how the two of you should start dating.

You smiled tiredly and sat down beside him. “Hi, Rintaro. How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine, but more importantly, where have you been?” he frowned. “You were gone all of last week. I messaged and called you a bunch of times, but you never picked up…”

You obviously couldn’t tell him that your previous phone had been confiscated and the only one you currently had access to was a work-related phone that Ryu had given to you—which was almost definitely bugged.

“My phone broke,” you lied, feeling a bit guilty about it. “Sorry. I just got a new one, though, so I can add you again if you’d like.”

Rintaro sighed audibly. “Well, that’s good. I was worried I’d done something to upset you.”

“No, of course not.”

“Why were you gone all week, though? Were you sick as well?”

“Oh. I guess I haven’t told you yet.”

“Told me what?”

You shifted in your seat, bringing your palms together. “My mom died just recently,” you admitted. “I was busy planning the funeral and getting everything settled. Well, you know how sick she was. It’s not like I wasn’t prepared for it at all, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon…”

“O-Oh, no,” Rintaro gasped. “[Name]… I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay. There’s no reason for you to apologize. She liked you a lot from all the stories I told her,” you smiled. “I remember her saying she wanted to meet you someday.”

Tears were brimming in his eyes. He looked ready to break down right in the middle of class, but just barely managed to hold himself together. You looked down at your desk and let out a sigh. In a way, it was probably for the best that your mother had passed before Ryu and his men came looking for you. She would have been heartbroken to know that her daughter was being forced to make up for her husband’s mistakes.

I can’t tell anyone about my situation, but at least I still have people that care about me.

That alone was enough to keep you going. Ryu was even allowing you to continue attending school. You would work hard enough to pay off your debt, and one day, you would be free again.

Class was the same as always. It was a good distraction, actually. Having something to focus on helped you forget your sadness for a little while. You knew that by the end of the day you would have to head back to be under Ryu’s cold gaze, but for now, you wanted to enjoy it while you still could.

“I’ve got a lot to catch up on,” you sighed. “Seems like a ton of material was covered last week.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Rintaro reassured. “You should turn in a letter explaining your absences. They’ll exempt you because it was a family emergency. That stuff should always take precedence.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I think focusing on school is the best thing I can do for now. I don’t want to use my mom’s death as an excuse. Things have never been easy. I can handle this much.”

That’s right. You’d always been able to handle whatever life threw at you, no matter how demanding. Compared to being held captive by the yakuza, school was nothing.

Eventually, class was over, and Rintaro offered to go over his notes while you grabbed a bite to eat in the cafeteria.

He slid a notebook over to you and pressed his lips together. “This section was a little complicated. The prof didn’t really go into detail too much about it, but I’ve heard from previous students who took this course last year that it always ends up being covered extensively on the exam. Most of what I’ve added in here is stuff I found from browsing online or reading through the textbook.”

“That’s typical of him,” you snorted. “Prick.”

“Haha. Can’t argue with you there. Anyways, I found the best way to understand it is if you focus on these types of problems…”

He began going through a list of examples outlined in his notebook. At first, you were paying attention, and most of it was making sense, but your attention drifted away as someone passed by the table you were sitting at.

You weren’t exactly sure why, but the way the guy looked at you was a bit off-putting.

Rintaro peered over at you. “[Name]? Is everything okay, or am I going through it too fast?”

“Uh, no, it’s good. Sorry. Keep going, please.”

You had every intention of focusing, but each time your gaze wandered away from the table, you noticed the same guy staring at you. For a while, he was reclined against the wall. Then, he lined up to order himself a coffee, still stealing glances at you on occasion. After that, he sat down at one of the tables across from you and just kept on staring.

What’s his problem?

“Rintaro,” you frowned, “do I have something on my face?”

“Huh? No, why?”

“I was just wondering.”

“You look pretty like always,” he said, blushing slightly.

A chuckle left your lips. “Thanks. You’re sweet.”

Rintaro blushed again and went back to explaining, but not before stumbling over his words a few times. You clenched your jaw and made up your mind to not look away again. School was important. You needed to get a good job, to make sure that you had the means to pay back Ryu and get away from him as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, the more people told themselves not to do something, it just made them want to do it even more.

When you finally looked up again, the guy had disappeared, but that eerie feeling still lingered.

The store was quiet. Other than the soft buzz of the machine held in the man’s gloved fingers, nothing else could be heard. This late at night, the store was technically supposed to be closed, but exceptions had always been made for this particular type of clientele.

Eventually, a soft sigh filled the room.

“I’m done,” the man said, pulling the needle away. “Take a look in the mirror over there if you’d like.”

The client stood up and stretched his arms out, and proceeded to turn towards the mirror and examine the large tattoo now decorating the length of his arm. A scattering of cherry blossom petals, interwoven upon a winding branch. It had turned out rather nicely. The young artist couldn’t help but pat himself on the back.

“Thanks,” the client said, rolling his sleeve down and throwing his blazer on over top. “I was told the payment would be wired to you, so I didn’t bring the money with me.”

“Yeah, I know. The group always covers it.”

“Sounds good. Thanks again.”

The older man nodded towards the younger one and left, the chimes on the door clinking away in his stead.

“These assholes work me too hard,” the tattoo artist muttered, relieved that his long day was finally over.

His name was Tsukishima Kaito. Since he was an artist in the purest sense of the word, a gig like this had come naturally to him. His preferred medium was photography, but tattoos or piercings—those were all fine, too. He welcomed any sort of artistic expression.

And the reason why he was working past closing hours? It had a little something to do with his connection to the yakuza.

Sure, they brought in a lot of business, but they were all so gruff and intimidating. A bit of an eyesore, if he was being honest. He couldn’t exactly complain, though. After all, the fact that he was so closely acquainted to the yakuza was the only reason he'd gotten this job in the first place.

Speaking of…

Kaito discarded of his latex gloves and finally checked his phone. Immediately, he rolled his eyes. “God, what a needy son of a bitch. He’s called me five times already.”

He dialed the number back and waited for the other person to pick up.

“Kaito?” the man answered.

“Hi, Ryu. What do you want now?”

“Why did I have to wait so long for you to call me back?” His tone was clipped; clearly, he wasn’t in a good mood.

“I was in the middle of doing someone’s tattoo. What, am I just supposed to stop midway?”

“You should answer right away if I’m the one who’s calling.”

“I was working on one of your men. Cut me some slack here.”

“Forget it,” Ryu snapped. “Anyways. Did you do what I said? Were you able to find her?”

“Uh-huh,” Kaito droned, bored of the conversation already. “She was just sitting at a table with some guy and reviewing notes. She wasn’t trying to run away or anything interesting like that.”

“Good. Remember, it’s your responsibility to keep an eye on her while she’s on campus.”

“What’s the big deal, anyways? Let’s say she tries to run away. Then what?”

“It is a big deal,” the other man growled. “We have no leverage on her. If she chooses to run, we don’t have any relatives we can use to make sure she doesn’t abandon her duties. Other than her good-for-nothing father, the last of her family died with her mother.”

Kaito leaned back in his chair. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m asking why it matters even if by some chance she escapes. Let’s be honest here—it’ll take her ages to work off that debt, assuming she even makes it that far. I just don’t see what value a single woman has. It seems like a waste of both time and energy.”

“She’s going to have to work for it. Otherwise, I will kill her. And it isn’t your job to question me, Kaito. Just do as I say. That’s it.”

The line clicked off not a second after. Kaito scrunched up his nose and set his phone face-down. Family, huh? To say that he was disinterested in your situation would still have been an overstatement, but he couldn’t help but pity what had happened to you. All because of your shitty dad. Life really was cruel, usually to the people who deserved it the least.

Kaito knew full well that family could be a giant pain in the ass. After all, he’d been unlucky enough to have someone like Ryu as his cousin. Though, things could have been worse. He could have been forced to work under the yakuza directly.

Kaito threw his head back and let out a sigh. “She just had to attend the same university as me. Goddammit all.”

It seemed like things were going to become even more troublesome from now on.

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