#every single time I babble on about the lore between these two I get so embarassed bruh

[feng-shui71]

💔 anon back. Do you think wesker was using the security cameras at Arklay to keep an eye on Jordan from his evil lab & if so did he see her find the slide?

Uhh yeah! never thought about it but I think he did use the CCTV cameras scattered across the mansion just to track her, making sure she wouldn’t get harmed or involved more than she already was, stepping in every so often to guide her away from his plans. Unfortunately!! she snooped around and came across the slides. He is aware of this and decided to improvise upon Jordan’s confrontation. I cover that in this ask here.

[sb1317]

DSMP as Oh Hellos Song Lyrics

My opinions on which set of lyrics from Oh Hello’s songs match certain DSMP characters I tried my best to get them all but let me know if I’ve forgotten/missed someone Characters who are no longer around/didn’t do lore aren’t included. Also super recent lore is being ignored because I cant keep changing this every time someone decides to flip their character motivations dammit (Im not including variations of a single character unless its a ghost btw. That means for example characters such as lmanburg Wilbur and revivedbur (two versions of one person) are gonna fall under the broad category of ‘Wilbur’.) Some of them will have explanations, some won’t. If you want me to explain my reasoning maybe I’ll make another post.  Maybe I’ll even make on for character relationships one day. Idk I have crippling anxiety online so I won’t post very often ////   Foolish: Constellations “I can feel it on my tongue, brick and mortar, thick as scripture drawing lines in the sand and lay in borders, as tall as towers, I babble on until my voice is gone.” Slime: This Will End “I will wait for this to end, the back and forth, the battery for you at last to comprehend, the kind of love of which I speak” Niki: Thus Always To Tyrants “Where I go will you still follow? Will you leave your shaded hollow? Will you greet the daylight looming? Learn to love without consuming?” Fundy: I was Wrong “I was born at the dawn of our folly I was young and stubborn to the bone, as I took from the tree that was rotting Ooh~ I took my chance and bit down deep” Tommy: Theseus “Whatever kingdom come, it probably won’t come quick, no mighty clarion to announce it, no single use ark to discard in an instant like Theseus’s ship, we’ll fix the busted bits, Till its both nothing like and everything its always been” (I know Tommy is likened to the hero Theseus because of Techno but I prefer to relate him to the conundrum of Theseus’ Ship instead- If you replace all the parts is it still the same ship? I think Tommy has been through a hell of a lot and probably struggles with the distance that has formed between early lmanburg Tommy and revived Tommy. Idk but I think its a much more fitting comparison than the actual hero. Honestly this whole song works and any part could match Tommy I could talk about this song in relation to Tommy for ages so I’ll cut it off here lmao) Jack: Where is your rider “So bury me as it pleases you lover- at sea or deep within the catacombs But these bones never rested while living so How can they stand to languish in repose” Boomer: Hieroglyphics “Stamping your heels along with the drum Praying the serpent's underneath one of 'em Like there's some villain left to defeat Instead of a dance with a rhythm and beat”

(I don’t actually know Boomer’s lore so I kinda made a guess on this one from what little I’ve seen/heard. Pls let me know if there are better options) Philza: Eat You Alive “Ive seen the true face of the things you call life The song of the siren that holds your desire Death she is cunning and clever as hell And she’ll eat you alive” Sam: Lapis Lazuli “I don’t mean to speak so collectively I know I don’t make it easy to even wanna hear it What can I say, What can I say, What can I say 'Cause the more I recite it The more you wanna fight it The more my language is sounding fabricated”

(Sam is such a nuanced and interesting character who has such conflicting morals and priorities. His relationships are constantly being ruined by his strange reasoning and actions and I think this song conveys this quite well- He’s trying to explain himself but the more he talks, the worse it sounds) Sapnap: Oh Sleeper “I see the trail of shoulders I’ve climbed over but by god I’ll bloody up my hands with everything I am to cut away the mountains I’ve made and fill the dales below” (Sapnap fought on Dream’s side in the first war and has conflicts with many on there server but Kinoko is his new start and he’s trying his best to repair old relationships and make up for past mistakes- This song is about overcoming your past to be better and I think it just works) Techno: Oh Sleeper “The tables in the Temple will be turned on their side, and just as it scorches up the dunes beneath the height of noon the pillars of the empire will be burned in kind” (Technoblade and christianity/christ connections go brrrr) Wilbur: I Have Made Mistakes “We have lived in fear, we have lived in fear and our fear has betrayed us, we will overcome, we will overcome the apathy that has made us, ‘cause we are not alone, we are not alone in the dark with our demons We have have made mistakes, we have made mistakes but we’ve learned from them” Ghostbur: Pale White Horse “It was a pale white horse, with a crooked smile and I knew it was my time It was the raging storm, of a foreign war and a face I’d seen before” Eret: Rio Grande “May all our tinfoil idols Lay crumpled on the ground And our pre-fab Olympus Divided by the thousand Oh, maybe im naive for thinking, That a mountain so stubborn can move But if im a mountain moving I think you can be too” (Eret redemption arc woo) Bad: Notos “And every word you shouldn't say Will come bubbling out of your throat But you've got no one left to blame For the things you lost to the winds of Notos”

(Bad’s lore is so cool and nuanced and AHHH I want to shake him violently for making me feel things. I think Bad places a lot of blame on people around him in an attempt to cope with his own bad decisions and actions (mind controlled or not) Puffy: Notos “Every inhale I take, swallows the ocean whole, and I am one With the hurricane, tall as the tide that laps with a rabid tongue With every exhale, I break you down with a fury, I lay the hills undone Like a dog gone untamed, bellowing out a river from my lungs”

Ponk: Trees “Climbing trees; haven't much since we were children Shaking limbs tend to end up bent and broken But heartache pales in comparison to love”

Ranboo: Soap “I’ve heard If I were tougher Then maybe I'd make it alive I got a tender side I'll need a harder shell to survive But if seeing is believing I don't know I've seen a thing grow Without an open coat Not without a softness showing”

Purpled: Passerine “And as I prune my feathers like leaves from a vine I find that we have fewer and fewer in kind, but My palms and fingers still reek of gasoline From throwing fuel to the fire of that Greco-Roman dream Purifying the holy rock to melt the gilded seams”

Skeppy: On the Mountain Tall “I know you want me to be afraid I know you want me to love you Still the wild wind blows Up out the grave of an angry ghost Firing bricks from broken canon and prose To build a wall so high it reaches the heavens to the sky”

George: Exeunt “Now I am not the fool I was when I was younger, Crocodile eyes I have seen how you hunger. Fluttering your lashes like ashes and embers, Warm and bright as fire devouring timber, No, I cannot trust what you say when you’re grieving So my love im sorry but still I am leaving” Tubbo: Dear Wormwood “When I was a child I didn't hear a single word you said The things I was afraid of They were all confined beneath my bed But the years have been long And you have taught me well to hide away The things that I believed in You've taught me to call them all escapes I know who you are now”

(go watch the Dear Wormwood Tubbo animatic by knp!!! its the best thing to ever happen to me) Quackity: The Lament of Eustace Scrubb “I know that I have gone astray 'Cause when I saw my reflection It was a stranger beneath my face It was a stranger beneath my face But I'll come around I’ll come around Someday”

Dream: Hello my Old Heart “Hello, my old heart How have you been? How is it being locked away? Don't you worry, in there you're safe And it's true, you'll never beat But you'll never break”

(im not a big fan of c!dream but I know a nuanced character when I see one dammit and I refuse to reduce c!dream to a simple evil dude. Mans has some strange fucked reasonings behind his actions and its so interesting to see it play out) Karl: In Memoriam “It's been a long road, losing all I've owned And you don't know what you've got until you're gone And it's a nasty habit, spending all you have, but If you're doing all the leaving, then it's never your love lost”

Schlatt: Wishing Well “For my soul, he made an offer And to the dust again I fell And oh, that devil's got a hold on me now Because there wasn't any water in the wishing well”

(not a c!schlatt apologist or trying to find excuses for him, just thought the song was neat in relation to both his status as this big, evil, power hungry president and as someone struggling with substance abuse) Hannah: Rose “What's true is like a sickle It'll cut you to the middle Your rose is without a thorn But no, my mouth don't taste of metal From the pot here to the kettle I think we got a lot we gotta learn”

(one of the most on the nose song choices lmao. Not 100% on it but couldn’t thing of anything better)

Punz: Eurus “As Fortuna sits idly by I spin her wheel with all my might Crushing my kin for warring-wage Minted from the ivory of your tooth and eye”

Eryn: Torches “I got a venom like a snake running out of my mouth (running out of my mouth, running out of my mouth) Its got you burning at the stake, Innocent or not, you’re not a bet I care to take” (other then his childhood friends, c!eryn strikes me as quite a paranoid, mistrusting character. He’s constantly over-prepared for pvp situations and it makes me wonder about the rest of his backstory..) Connor: Torches “And father ignorance will make brothers of us all (brothers of us all, brothers of us all) As he sets our torch aflame Chasing down the flimsy spectres that we co-create” (c!Conner doesn’t have much lore but he was involved with the prison break and has ties now to the syndicate so he gets a song) Ant: Bitter water “Well, I still taste you on my lips Lovely bitter water The terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue And I know I shouldn't love you I know I shouldn't love you But I do”

Callahan: The Valley “We were born in the shadow Of the crimes of our fathers Blood was our inheritance No, we did not ask for this”

(callahans lore is so interesting ahhhh like what do you mean he has a history with XD?? What do you mean he’s Tina’s dog??? What do you mean he’s canonically been XD’s pet as well?? *shakes violently*) Hbomb: Cold is the Night “Steady is the hand that's come to terms With the lessons it has had to learn And I've seen the things that I must do”

MichaelMC: Zephyrus “Whether by accident or fortune You and I We are matter And it matters I want to spin something out of nothing Lead to gold Spring from winter Story from moted sky”

Tina: Zephyrus “I wanna help mother up an orchard From a seed Up through sapling Daughter phoenix, rise”

XD: Thus always to Tyrants “Every tomb, every sea, spit the bones from your teeth Let the ransomed be free as the revel meets the day Let the valleys awake, let them rattle and shake In the wind that remakes all that time has worn away

Aimsey: Thus always to Tyrants “I will look for you as the sun rises higher When the dry bones dance with the timbrel and lyre There's a wind alive in the valley It will fill your lungs, if you'll have it”

Seepeekay: Constellations “Cause like constellations a million years away Every good intention, every good intention Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array Looking for the faces Looking for the shapes in the silence”

Ghostboo: Cold “When the bitter creeps in To bite you whole A spectre unreflected, oh it keeps you cold”

[firesnap]

There were a couple interesting things about the post that escaped our little corner of fandom and, now that things have calmed down, I kinda wanted to talk about it.

Don't reblog this. It's just me, in the most self-indulgent and egotistical manner possible, babbling about the experience of having not even the most controversial thing I've ever said be inescapable for two days.

1. I actually hide my follower count, but my notifications made me curious, so I looked last night. I gained such a huge influx of followers over the past couple of days. Way more than a post that has 1200 notes on Tumblr should warrant. I don't know what to do with that information. Obviously some Twitter crossover there, but like, bizarre because most of them did zero interaction beyond following.

2. The amount of people who assumed, based on one post, that I only watch c!Crime. Like, I have watched most of the Egglore. I've watched all of Techno's streams. I have watched Eryn's lore and soooome of Tubbo's and some of Foolish's and all of Quackity's and a huge chunk of Sam's and Eret's. It's just so funny that the assumption is "if you think this part is better and are pointing out a consistent trend then it's because you've never watched anything else." Nah. I have. I was half watching/following CPK's just the other day too. Hell, most of the time, even if I can't watch the stream, I go and read update accounts for what happened in a stream (even if it's just casual RP).

3. So there's an interesting thing with Tumblr posts where you still have to have some sense of brevity -- a one off text post isn't going to get into who I watch and the issues I have with other storylines. There's just no way to cover the points every single person wants you to make and have it still be viable on your dash. Like this post is getting too long right now and I'm going to put it behind a cut. But Tumblr was built to be more of an open exchange so that makes it okay to make multiple posts or engage in dialogue with the inbox about points you couldn't hit or could only mention. When a post is removed the Tumblr environment you lose that and get a lot of "but what about's" that are things you've likely discussed.

4. Despite what weird gossip and discourse I read, no I didn't get any particularly nasty anons or hate. I got a lot of messages and that's why my inbox was closed. I'm bad at answering messages on the best days and the amount I was getting caused a bit of anxiety. Most were incredibly polite (even the ones annoyed and disagreeing). I will say I closed my inbox before things on Twitter went wild so who knows what it would have looked like.

5. There is no ill will between me and the person who put the post on Twitter. I saw that a couple of times and wanted to be clear there. I knew it was there thanks to a bestie and because I saw, using a blank twitter I have for following artists, a mutual on Tumblr retweet it. I never once asked for it to be taken down. They reached out to me when the post got a couple thousand likes to make sure things were fine.

6. Yes, I went to dinner with some friends and came back to a dozen messages about Antfrost. No I do not think it was about that post and tweet. It'd be funny even if it's not as impressive as the person who got vagued by Techno so hard that Techno became a lorehead just to talk about their post. Also, most of my mutuals are lovely people.

7. Yeah, I still stand by what I said. The dsmp has more unfinished storylines than finished ones and the lack of organization means people end up clinging to past tried and true formulas for making content. Yes, a living server means storytelling is different but anyone that's done an RP knows that doesn't mean you just have dozens of unfinished and abandoned plotlines and quests. Yes, I do think c!Crime are some of the only people on the server to start storylines and actually finish them and, as a result, people attach to them looking for content or guidance. No, I don't consider the Eggpire to be part of that group that finishes shit because "in two weeks" never happened. L'Sandburg and all that was "in the future after the finale" and then the finale didn't happen. I have lots of issues with how that was ditched. That doesn't mean I think the content that was produced isn't good. It's honestly just the most glaring case of pacing and fallen plot lines impacting what's a really good idea.

8. All of the comments about how "cc's don't owe me content/this is disrespectful" drove me up the wall. Yeah, no one owes a person shit. TV shows and movies don't owe me being made either. Authors don't owe me finished books. But if you're marketing your ability to entertain me, through stories or RP or music or whatever, I reserve the right to critique what you're trying to sell me.

9. It's interesting how many people don't consider the dsmp and its streamers to be a product and that, because it's not as blatant as a Marvel film, it's somehow immune to normal complaints. Like, I do agree that it's non-traditional media, but no one is out here streaming for free. Once you agree to be on a giant RP server that's known for RP, it's very hard for me to go "oh they're amateurs" because I know it's a career choice. They're professional streamers/entertainers. Every streamer, every single one that streams full time, is trying to sell you something. Even the smaller streamers (not even getting into how dsmp has skewed people on what a "small" streamer is) are trying to sell you on supporting them by doing content they think you'll stick around to see. Hell, I've seen people make "lore" a subgoal and if that isn't the most blatant example that the dsmp is a product then I don't know what is. Them having fun or doing it because they enjoy too is just a nice byproduct that changes nothing.

10. I agree my language can be inflammatory. But, you know, a lot of the times that's because it's a joke or a bit about how dramatic our corner of fandom is about everything. It, uh, does not translate well when it's exposed to other people.

I'm going to get some coffee with friends right now but, sometime later today, I'm going to reenable anon messages. I like the back and forth exchange. Be polite.

It's been a fun few days but, man, I'm ready for some Niki and Wilbur lore now.

[willidleaway]

OK, let’s talk about Deltarune Chapter 2. Right off the bat two things:

Toby Fox could have been charging 20 USD for this or asked people to pre-purchase the remaining chapters to play Chapter 2, and I’m frankly very surprised (if delighted) that he didn’t.

Soundtrack’s bopping. If you don’t feel like playing two free chapters of a game, which by themselves will give you nine hours of a brilliant time in an absolutely insane world filled with mad characters that all still manages to hold together somehow, I can still recommend giving the OST a listen and then a buy if you are so inclined.

And with that and the spoiler-free lead image out of the way, let’s actually (largely incoherently) talk about Deltarune Chapter 2 below the Read More line. Spoilers galore, including for a bonus enemy ...

OK, so this guy is still a card:

But some non-positive observations to begin with: the Castle Town is nice to look at but maybe a bit uninteresting for the moment, since it’s a completely separate Dark World from the main underworld of Chapter 2. It seems perhaps like a decent hub world for people who haven’t replayed the previous chapter and need some refreshers, especially with the dojo challenges. But some of the other mechanics associated with the Castle Town like recruiting, fusing items, and so forth are as yet unclear. But perhaps it hints at more interaction between chapters through the Castle Town.

And that’s all the non-positive observations I have about Deltarune Chapter 2. It’s not even a negative observation, just taking note of potential seeds being planted for the remainder of the game.

Now. Now now now now now.

I don’t know how Toby Fox manages to continue coming up with such a diverse array of antagonists all so ridiculous and insane in their own special way, but he continues to outdo himself. And not only is Queen insane but so is literally everything that happens in Cyber City and then in Queen’s Mansion, like the layers of truces across Queen and her quasi-willing peons:

and indeed, ye Triumphant Returne of Rouxls Kaard, absolute card:

But the madcap side of things doesn’t mean there isn’t real attention to fleshing out everything introduced in Chapter 1, in tandem on both the narrative side and the gameplay side. As far as the latter, we can (finally) get party members other than Kris to undertake at least basic standard non-magical actions on their own that don’t cost Tension Points, which is very much welcome. But at the same time managing TP well is even more important than before. A lot of careful grazing makes certain fights a great deal easier, in a way that I didn’t really notice for most of Chapter 1 (with the possible exception of Jevil, who I still haven’t successfully pacified). The attacks are correspondingly far denser and often don’t leave too much margin for error, but as someone with minimal hand-eye coordination I still had a reasonable time completing Chapter 2.

Well, except for one particular enemy.

oh god this fight used up every single recovery item I had

Spamton NEO is an interesting enemy, arguably more so than Jevil, and I’m not just saying that because I managed to spare Spamton but still haven’t had any success with Jevil. For one, finding the pieces of the key for Jevil’s cell is straightforward, whereas finding the Empty Disk for Spamton is itself a nightmarish dodge-fest. But more importantly, you actively have to seek Jevil out in Chapter 1, whereas your first encounter with Spamton is actually mandatory as part of the main story and then you optionally follow up on Spamton’s lead later to be able to face off against his NEO form.

Perhaps relevant to the forced nature of Spamton’s introduction is his relevance to Deltarune as a whole despite his bonus boss status. Compared to Jevil’s dialogue, Spamton’s babblings seem far more directly tied to the central themes of Deltarune around choice or agency, or rather a lack thereof (in stark contrast to Undertale’s general ethos). Jevil mostly just wants to wreak mischief and chaos; Spamton is fuelled by a need for freedom, to no longer be a puppet of ... something. And facing him in this way obviously clearly affects Kris, whose own free will is in real question ...

Oh yes, it seems now we’re really getting into the real core of Deltarune’s story, with all of the lore about the Roaring and more talk of the Knight leading up to this ending. But are Kris and the Knight one and the same? Or is Kris a puppet of the Knight? Or ... is it even the other way around? (No idea if that makes any sense but it sounds like a cool thing to throw out there.)

And another thing: this staticky smile ...

I would guess that’s Chapter 3′s boss once we actually go through this new Dark World, but why does this static remind me of the static you see behind Spamton’s glasses in some of his creepier shop dialogue? Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but there’s certainly an embarrassment of riches to over-analyse, even around Chapter 2′s bonus boss.

And I haven’t even talked about every other character being amazing. Susie of course continues to undergo really positive development, but Noelle seems to get the bulk of the attention honestly—we not only get her to finally interact with Susie, but we also learn more about her past as well her family, both about her lost sister (strongly implied to be named December) and her mother. The latter we get not only through more dialogue with her father Rudy but also in an implicit sense through her interactions with Queen, which may well mirror her fractious relationship with an overbearing mother.

Ralsei’s characterisation doesn’t try to expand as much, instead continuing to detail what’s already been planted throughout Chapter 1—his rule of the Castle Town, his awareness of the danger posed by the potential dark/light imbalance, and so forth—but nothing quite as revelatory as with Noelle. It doesn’t mean I can’t try my best to ship Kris with Ralsei though ...

Anyway, fluffy boys and mean girls aside, it’s also nice to see characters like Berdly—who seemed like a completely incidental one-note gag character in Chapter 1—get fleshed out with reasonably compelling (although obviously insane) motivation and backstory, and one wonders which other characters may get this sort of treatment in future.

Speaking of other characters as well, how cute and/or cool are all of the new enemies and enemy-adjacent characters???

Part of me suspects Tasque Manager in particular is actually carefully engineered to break the Internet. But my favourite is Swatch, who gives off weirdly Tuxedo Mask-esque vibes to me:

And an additional bit of speculation: I strongly suspect we’ll see some persistent things across the chapters that aren’t necessarily linear in progression. When I brought Spamton’s shadow crystal to Seam, they basically chided me for not having Jevil’s crystal (for god’s sake Seam it’s not for lack of trying), but then said this:

Is it possible that the game’s keeping track of certain global things outside of any of your individual saves, and some of these certain global things might not just have to do with optional bonuses ... ? Is it possible that some of these certain global things may enable cross-chapter nonlinear gameplay to accompany all of the other Castle Town mechanics introduced in Chapter 2?

Or do I just not want to replay all of Chapter 2 if I manage to pacify Jevil?

Time will tell. How much time?

Only time will tell on that front too, I guess.

Overall: Chapter 2 of Deltarune is another spectacular episode in Toby Fox fleshing out this unbelievable yet somehow credible world in his madcap way, and you can bet I will be watching for future chapters with great interest.

PS: I finished Chapter 2 of Deltarune to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now—

look expiration dates are important okay

[pastorpresent]

Bobby had always known there was something different about the Winchester boys.

His friendship with John had quickly become strained, because he never quite understood the mans insistence of bringing the two boys into such a fucked up life. He butted heads with the eldest Winchester pretty much every other week, but he had to admit he saw his boys like his own sons.

The first time he met them, Sam had been 8. He hadn't known anything about monsters that lurked in the night, thought his daddy was just a buisness man. He had been a painfully shy and tiny thing, sat pressed firmly against Dean as he clung to his older brother and gave Bobby tentative looks.

After he lets Sam have access to his library, the kid seemed to settle a lot better. He spent 70 percent of his time with his nose in a book, 20 percent talking about his book and 10 percent sleeping.

Dean had been 12. He knew all about all the horrific monsters of the world. If he hadn't been so small, Bobby would've believed him to be far older. He acted like it for sure. He wouldn't let Bobby get near Sam for those first few visits, either. He was like some sort of silent guard dog, always sat close to wherever Sam was just flicking through a comic or watching TV with an arm always draped around his younger brother. If Bobby got too close to Sam his face would harden, and that arm around his brother would tighten even if Sam seemed oblivious.

After half a dozen visits, Dean seemed to decide he wasn't a threat.

He was still quiet and spent most his time watching Sam but he didn't look at Bobby like he was trying to make him drop dead from a single stare anymore whenever he got close to Sam.

Sam really warmed to him. He would babble endlessly about what he had been reading about and a few times they tossed a ball back and forth outside together. Sam was like a little ball of sunshine after that initial shyness melted away, and Bobby had really hoped that he wouldn't lose that positive outlook once John inevitably taught him about the horrors of the world.

He wasn't sure how Sam found out eventually, but he could pin point it directly to that three week gap between one of their visits and the next.

And Bobby's hopes for Sam to remain bright and happy were dashed.

That visit was a good three years after he first met the boys, but the tension made it feel like one of those very first ones.

John had dropped them off with nothing but a gruff 'see you in two weeks', and Dean looked frustrated and upset, grabbing both him and Sam's duffel before pulling open Sam's door and practically dragging him out.

Sam hadn't said a single word. He hadn't said hi to Bobby, or locked him in one of those crushing hugs he had began associating with the kid.

And if Bobby thought Dean carried himself older all those years ago? He kept forgetting Dean was 15 rather than 30.

Sam hadn't picked up a single book during those two weeks, just sat curled up in a ball next to Dean while jumping at every slight noise. Bobby cooked his favourite meals, but Sam barely ate any of them. He had a nightmare every single night for the entirety of those two weeks, and Bobby would always rush in upon hearing the youngests terrified screams and cries only to find Dean already there with him curled up on his lap. Bobby watched him whisper reassurance, kiss the top of Sam's head as he rocked him back and forth.

That light in Sam's eyes had gone out, and Dean's green ones had grew duller.

He had never hated John Winchester quite as much as he had during those two weeks.

Eventually things got back to normal. As normal as they could be, anyway. Sam began reading more lore books, asking Bobby on parts he was unsure about. He was never that happy little kid again, but he seemed to be finding some acceptance for their situation. Dean seemed less on edge too, which wasn't surprising since Bobby had long learnt that a calm Sam typically made for a calm Dean.

It was shortly before Sam's 15th birthday when he began to notice something else.

Nothing monster related. At first, Bobby was convinced he was being a paranoid idiot. He must be reading stuff wrong, or twisting perfectly innocent things into something they didn't deserve to be.

But Sam always came out of their room in Dean's shirt. He watched Dean wipe food from the corner of Sam's lips, and the way their eyes lingered for a beat too long on one another. They still sat far too close, and a couple of times Bobby was convinced he had seen Dean's arm slung low around Sam's hip poorly covered by a blanket.

He had his suspicions, but he still refused to believe it. They had always been oddly close, but it was always just... a protective brother thing. An inevitable product of their unstable upbringing.

It was three months later when he got his concrete proof that whatever was going on with the Winchester boys was far more than that.

He had woken up far earlier than normal, and decided to go make a start on breakfast. Except when he got to the doorway of the kitchen, Sam and Dean were already up.

"Hmmm, I'm glad dad didn't take you with him this time." Sam's tone was soft, made even softer by the tinge of sleep still present.

Bobby peeped around the doorway as subtly as he could. Sam was sat on the cluttered kitchen counter, in one of Dean's old ACDC shirts. Dean was stood between his spread thighs, face buried in Sam's neck.

"I know baby, missed you so bad last time." Dean murmured, so quiet that Bobby almost didnt hear. Dean lifted his head, sending Sam a gentle smile so very similiar to those fond ones he used to send his little brother years before, when Sam said or did something particularly impressive.

Bobby's head was swimming with so many questions. He wasn't... he wasn't disgusted, or disappointed even.

Part of him already knew. And an even deeper part of him knew this was inevitable, something absolutely natural for their paths in life even if everyone else would vehemently argue otherwise.

"Kiss me, De."

Bobby turned and left, padding back to his bedroom as silently as he could manage.

Something had always been different about the Winchester boys, but he would never label it as something wrong.

He just hoped they were damn better at hiding it from their dad, because Bobby had no idea how the man would react. But while they were under his roof? Bobby would play the role of blissfully ignorant for them easily.

[the-silentium]

Murphy day - Epilogue

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -  The survivor

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader

Words: 2708 words

Warnings: None.

A/N: This side story became a prologue, so y’all enjoy this lil piece of fluff. If you guys have requests or ideas for some side stories, don’t hesitate to ask!

Taglist: @haloangel391​

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

"Today's the day!" Wrecker exclaimed excitedly, opening the door so quickly that it hit the wall before bouncing back to hit his arm. 

Unbothered, he pushed the door back to approach your frightened form on the bed to hit your shoulder playfully. 

"Ready to return to the ship, pilot?" He laughed like this was the funniest joke of the universe. Well. In a sense it was. 

"I'm discharged?" You asked, hopeful to finally get out of the medbay. Patch and Mylana have been very kind from day one and you were eternally grateful for their support through your healing process. But you were ready to get away from the white walls, bacta smells and occasional nocturnal pain screams down the hallway.

"You are!" He confirmed, placing a pile of neatly folded clothes with your clean boots on the bed beside your folded legs. "Crosshair got you some clothes." 

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline, well, what remained of it. To reduce the swelling of your brain they had to shave some of your hair to access the skull so Mylana offered to do a sidecut to save the remaining of your hair and make you a bit more fashionable. You were glad that you accepted, the style definitely suited you and the appreciative look you received from a certain sergeant made you forget what the word 'insecurity' meant. Added to your apparent scar, you looked badass. 

"Is there another Crosshair on base? 'Cause I don't think we're talking about the same Cross." You maintained his gaze, bewildered. 

Sure, the sniper had warmed up a bit to you. He came to visit, rarely, but still came nonetheless. He didn't talk much but his company was enough. He usually brought you holobooks about ships, from their mechanics to how to fly them. 

He'd sometimes talk about some of his flying experience or recall some pranks he and Wrecker pulled on the regs if you sighed from boredom enough times. Oh and he brought you a tiny cup of caf one time. Tiny victories. 

But to get you clothes? That you noticed were the right size? You must have done a lot more progress than you thought. 

"Yeah. Said the gown would smell bacta." He bent over to sniff near your shoulder. "And he's not wrong." 

You rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder away.

"Fine. Wait outside, I'll change." 

With a salute, he exited the room and closed the door slowly this time. 

You grabbed the clothes, quickly pulled the socks on, followed by the black cargo pants. You admired in awe the lots and lots of pockets and immediately thought how many things you could put in them. Your own cargo pants didn't even have that many pockets. You swiftly removed the gown, folded it in a ball before throwing it in the basket in the corner of the room, cheering silently when you aimed right at your first attempt. Your arm really got better in the last 2 weeks the cast has been off. 

You traced the scars on your inner arm and abdomen, your proofs that you survived hell and came back stronger. With a smile, you pulled on the grey long sleeve shirt Crosshair chose for you. You pulled up the sleeves a bit until they reached just below your elbow and stepped in your boots to hurriedly get out. 

"Looking good Y/N!" Wrecker whistled looking you up and down, catching the attention of the nurses office. 

"I have to agree with that." Came Mylana's voice, admiration in her eyes as she nodded with a grin.

"It's all thanks to you." You winked at her, passing a hand through your shaved side, carefully avoiding your sensitive scar. 

"I dare to think that I did a good job with those stitches. I should have some credits." Patch appeared from around the corner, datapad in hands. 

"You did and I can't thank you enough!" You laughed, hugging him when he opened his arms. 

"You're welcome. Take care of yourself. No jumping off cliffs again." He chided, letting you go with a pat on your shoulder to join the nurse station. 

"I will! And I fell! Big difference!" You countered, earning a scoff with a shake of his head. 

"Well, this is goodbye until next time then! Although it would be nice if you weren't injured." Mylana hugged you, her hand softly patting your back. 

"I'll be careful mom." You snarked, chuckling. "See ya Lana! Take care!" You jogged to join Wrecker who took a head start. 

He walked you through the medbay, walked a long hallway and finally showed you the hangar where you spotted a familiar ship stationed at the far end. You took a deep breath in, letting out a moan at the smell of fresh air, oil and smoke. 

"I missed this." You informed Wrecker, arms open wide at your side to feel the breeze stroking your exposed skin. 

"I know what you mean." He resumed walking, glancing at you as you followed. "I was in the medbay for a month for that." He reminded you, pointing at his scar on the side of his face. 

"I was in there for three." You deadpanned, looking around to take in the clones moving crates around and the mechanics repairing ships. 

Before you knew it, you reached the ship where Hunter was waiting down the ramp. 

"Looking good." He approved, the smirk deforming his tattoo, the sight of which sent tingles to your fingertips. 

You remembered all too well the day Hunter fulfilled the one condition you asked for. 

"That's what I said!" Wrecker said, passing you to enter the ship. 

"Welcome aboard the Havoc Marauder." Hunter became more serious, his hand presenting you the interior of the vessel. 

You followed his lead, taking in all the information he gave you about the ship while creating a mental map of the structure and rooms. 

You weren't surprised when he showed you your cot, a small bed pushed against the far wall of a room where two sets of bunks were occupying the side walls. You quickly figured that a ship had very limited spacing and that you would sleep near them all. You weren't a fan of sleeping in your underwear anyway, the lack of clothing making you feel vulnerable. 

"Here." Hunter caught back your attention, a well-known knife and tap in his open hands. 

You took them back, eager to be your whole self again. Pocketing the tap, you traced the old tree carved in the wood of the knife handle, finding a deep comfort in the movement. 

"What does it represent?" He asked, genuinely curious. "The tree." 

"It's my family's crest. We've always been close to the jungle." You smiled, remembering the day your dad offered you the knife. "This knife has been passed down for many generations now-" 

You frowned at the light bleating sound echoing through the ship. This was unusual. 

"What was that?" You asked and when you turned around, Tech and Crosshair were in the doorway. You slipped the knife onto the nearby bed. 

"That? Nothing." Tech replied too nonchalantly. 

"You took him too?" Your eyes widen as a small green horned Shinehorn poked its head between Crosshair's legs. 

Your face broke into a smile as you fell to your knees to receive the excited animal into your arms. You patted his head and scratched its sides, stopping when Tech closed Shiny's mouth when he started to make happy noises. 

"He slipped in when we weren't looking. And he's not supposed to be here." He informed you, releasing Shiny slowly to make sure be wouldn't start babbling again. 

"Oh. Okay." You stood up. "Are you guys keeping him?" 

"Unfortunately, if the GAR finds him he'll be thrown away. So we have to take him back." Tech explained to your disappointment. 

"It'll be your first flight. Without pressure, perfect to practice. Tech will be there to help you." Hunter told you, watching closely for your reaction. 

"Cool! I feel ready for this." You affirmed, confident. Every day for two months you prepared yourself. You were ready for a first practical test. Your hands shot to your pockets by habit, reminding you of something. 

"Crosshair!" You exclaimed to everyone's surprise. You almost laughed at their slightly wide eyes. "Thanks for the clothes! I love them!" You flashed him a toothy grin, bouncing from your toes to your heels. 

"You're welcome." He grumbled, moving his signature toothpick in his mouth, snapping his fingers and leaving the room. To your surprise, Shiny followed Crosshair diligently, his tail straight up in the air, alert to Crosshair's commands. 

You watched him go and disappear around the corner, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. 

"He tamed him!" You yelped, pointing to the empty spot that Shiny occupied only moments ago. 

"Yeah. He knows many commands now." Tech took a seat on a bunk, holding your gaze. "Stay, come here, lay down, light up and turn off. " 

"Aw it's so sad that we have to take him back there." You pouted, but you knew why it was necessary. Didn't mean you had to like it though. 

"It's for his best interest." Tech chipped, standing up to leave the room. "Oh and I brought you some food from the mess. Figured you'd get out of the medbay before they could give you your lunch." He told you in the doorway before going elsewhere when you thanked him for the kind gesture. 

"Think you're ready?" Hunter asked from his spot leaning on the opposed bunk. 

You smirked. "Doubting me Sergeant?" You asked, mischief sparkling in your eyes. 

"No. Simply confirming with you." He cleared, raising an eyebrow at your expression. 

"Then I confirm. I'm ready for a test run. I know all those manuals by heart and it's as boring as it sounds." You chuckled. 

He pushed himself up before taking a few steps in your direction, only stopping when a single inch separated your chests. 

"I bet that those manuals would be much more interesting if you'd read them out loud." He said lowly, eyes darting down to your lips before returning to your eyes, calculating. 

"Now, I really doubt that." You rolled your eyes at his silliness. "I'm sure you'd fall asleep without a problem though." 

"I'd have nice dreams then." He smirked and you couldn't stop yourself. 

Your hand rose to the ink at the corner of his mouth, tracing its length carefully like you did that day he completed his part of the deal. Rising up to his cheekbone and temple, his head moved to the side to feel more of your fingers ghosting his skin before they finally entangled themselves in his locks. 

He groaned, eyes closing in contempt like every time, his touch deprivation made him like putty in your hand. After that first day, he soon became your most frequent visitor and the Batcher who knew you the most. In turn, you became the first person outside of his brothers to know him well. 

"I sure hope so." You whispered, closing the distance between your lips to take his breath away in a passionate kiss, your lips moving with his in perfect tandem. He followed your rhythm, too entranced by all of you overtaking his senses to be able to take the lead. 

His fingertips barely touched your waist that you pulled away, the mischievous glint he distinguished before sparkling stronger. 

"I have duty in the cockpit." 

You tried to pass by him but he quickly blocked your way with his body. 

"My hell of a catch-" He growled, his lips crashing back on yours, this time initiating the dance that you eagerly repeated. "-is a tease." He finished, eyes half close but loaded with desire. 

"Only for you, sir." You purred, pecking his lips one last time when he straightened at the title, his breath catching in his throat. 

You noted the reaction for later and ducked to the side to grab your knife from the bed and took off to the cockpit where you'd execute your very first attempt at flying a metal can. 

On your way you took hold of the food Tech gathered for you and you sat in the pilot seat, checking the board before you with all its buttons, switches and levers while eating. You were happy to find out that you knew the vast majority of their functions. 

"These are your credentials." Tech showed you his datapad, where your name appeared on top of the page with numbers and letters just beneath it, forming your personal code. 

"How did you get that? I didn't do any studies here and even less enrolled in the army." 

"Simple." He started, scrolling down to a particular section of the page. "I hacked the system through an encrypted connexion, created you a new identity within the GAR and gave you all the background needed to be a real pilot." He showed you your supposed diplomas and certifications of countless hours of flying practice that you really didn't have.

"Wow. I'm a genius." You noticed the grades attached to some of your supposed diplomas. 

With high distinction, some of them read. 

"Well, to be assigned to a team of elite commandos, you kinda need to be." He shrugged like it was pure logic. 

"You say that but you got me. The freak who never flew before and lived on a planet where we still used bows to hunt." You stated flatly, pointing to yourself. 

He met your eyes, blinking a few times behind his glasses to process what has been said and maybe find how to answer correctly. 

"Can I take back what I said?" He asked, starting to feel the hot water he just put himself in. 

"So you think I'm stupid?" 

"What?!" 

"If you take back the fact that I'm supposed to be a genius to be able to work with you, then you think that I'm stupid." You pointed out for him, enjoying how a rosy tint invaded his cheeks. 

"N-no! Not at all!" He stammered, clearly panicking over his own words. 

"Relax Tech, I'm kiddin'." You laughed, almost dropping your food.  

"What's going on here?" Hunter asked, suddenly entering with his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Tech called me stupid." You pushed him under the bus before taking a bite of your lunch. 

"No I didn't!" He defended himself, the high octave of his voice almost made you choke on the food.  

"Tech, don't insult our pilot." He reprimanded jokingly before leaving. 

He slowly turned to you, the residual pink on his skin vanishing by the seconds, his half-closed eyes burned holes through your skull. 

"I'm not helping you fly this ship." He grumbled, insulted. 

"I'll do my best!" You affirmed before lifting a hand to your chin in thought and pointing to a random button. "That's the hyperdrive, right?" You faked innocence. 

Tech blanched a bit, eyes widening all the while shaking his head in mild crisis. "You're not flying this ship!" 

You shot your hands in the air in defense, chuckling at his expression. "Okay I'm done shitting you! Promise!" 

Then you proceeded to name and explain the function of each button, each switch and each lever. He approved, sometimes adding stuff you couldn't learn in books and soon you were ready to depart. 

"No more jokes." He glared before patting your shoulder and left the room to tell the others that you would soon initiate the take-off sequence. 

You contemplated the hangar from your venture point, munching on some dry bread when you realized that you've felt more alive when you were stuck in a medbay bed for two months than you've ever felt in your life in the village. 

The reckless gesture of leaving your house on Murphy day was stupid but it bring you so much more than you first anticipated. Instead of having a single day where you weren't stared at with distrust or even disgust, you found companionship, kindness, people who'd gladly talk to you instead of whispering among themselves behind your back. 

Relief tears welled up in your eyes when you became aware that the heaviness weighing you down daily was gone. You were happy. 

You found your home.

[corner-stories]

babbling brooks and fair maidens

Serena. Calem.

Medieval Times. Swords. Cup Bearers. Squires.

3329 words.

(ao3.)

King Alexandre Zacharie Lyon sat upon the Golden Throne of Kalos in Shabboneau Castle, a place that was often abuzz with news and gossip. The words in the halls stated that Prince Lysandre — King AZ’s nephew and heir — was returning to Kalos from his travels abroad. When he had left he had brought a small Litleo with him, a gift from his Uncle, but according to many the tiny thing had finally transitioned into its final form — a ferocious and mighty Pyroar with a mane like fire. It was fitting seeing as a male Pyroar was the sigil of the House of Lyon. The House’s bright orange and red banner was hung in every hall of the castle.

Serena herself belonged to no house, but as a mere Royal Cup Bearer that was to be expected. All she had ever been told in life was that she was one of the many bastards who lived in Kalos — a child who was given up for one out of many reasons. In another world perhaps she would have lived happily under the care of a mother, but in that world the society of Kalos would have to not bring shame to unwed women who would suddenly find themselves with a child.

Serena had lived the first six years of her life in a children’s home in Lumiose City, where she would survive off scraps of bread and bowls of brown pottage masquerading as stew. Then one day the head of that home decided to sell her to Shabboneau Castle to clear off some debt. From that day on she found herself existing within the walls of the Castle kitchens, where her tiny nimble hands were responsible for cleaning the glasses and goblets that the King drank his wine from. Despite the sudden change in her life, she found the upsides to such a drastic life change. The servants at the Castle, while adamant that everything be up to royal standards, treated the younger servants with kindness — the same could not be said for the people who ran the children’s home in Lumiose. They also made sure that she was well fed, because King AZ fully believed that a good set of servants ran on their stomachs. It was also quite fortunate that the bowls of brown pottage at Shabboneau Castle were much more palatable than the ones at Lumiose.

Upon turning eleven she had been promoted from her job as the Royal Cup Washer. King AZ needed a new Cup Bearer after his last one was banished from the Kingdom. Apparently the old Bearer had been accused of treason and faced either permanent banishment or execution — he clearly chose the former. Serena was picked because she was careful with the glasses she handled and had never broken one in her life. King AZ had also been convinced that a mere eleven-year-old girl was not capable of betraying Kalos much like the older Bearer.

So Serena went from spending her days cleaning in the kitchens to holding a pitcher wherever the ruler of Kalos went. King AZ was rather fond of wine from Ambrette Town and thus wanted his trusty goblet to be filled with it at every second, something Serena was rather competent at doing. She initially expected the job to be monotonous and repetitive, but a week in she discovered just how interesting the life of a Royal Cup Bearer could be. When she was not serving rooms of Royals and Nobles, she was accompanying King AZ on trips around the region, as the King could not stand a day without a pitcher of wine by his side. She was even permitted to join the King on military related missions, where in between serving up drinks she would explore the Kalosian countryside and watch the soldiers train.

When she was not serving the King she was resting in the Servant’s Quarters, the place where most of the Castle gossip spread. When Serena was not in the Servant’s Quarters, she was exploring the Shabboneau’s Courtyard, which was often the second best place to hear gossip and lore. The only difference was that a Lord or Prince could easily take a midday stroll through the area, thus risking a noble hearing the words that the commoners loved to spread around. While King AZ had more important things to worry about than mere gossip, the Lords in his court were less tolerant. The last servant to speak ill of the higher borns was sent to a place that was considered to be the second closest place to hell — Galar.

With King AZ busy making preparations for the return of his nephew — including creating a feast fit for a Prince — Serena’s role as a Cup Bearer was rather underutilized. As a result she was granted a few hours of freedom in the midst of a busy work week. She spent her free time roaming around the castle grounds as many castle workers were permitted to do as long as they did not interfere with any royal operations.

With a buttery brioche bun in the pocket of her dress, Serena made her way to the castle gardens where the shrubbery and flowers were as lush and green as the fauna in the Winding Woods. North of the garden was a mill with a water wheel where a babbling brook would push the large circular contraption around and around, thus giving King AZ the freshest flour one could find in Kalos. Once the wheel was spun the water would simply flow down the brook once more, weaving itself through the greenery before flowing down to the moat beyond the wall.

It was in this brook that Serena often found friends. There were a variety of amusing little creatures that called the water their home, creatures that the older castle servants taught her the names of. There were adorable spherical mammals with twitching ears called Azurill and Marill and Azumarill, finned creatures called Magikarp and Carvanah, two-footed yellow things called Psyduck, and small stubby creatures with oval-shaped heads called Wooper.

But one creature in particular was a short little thing that many called a Froakie — this blue-skinned being had two long legs and a longer pair of arms, as well as a pair of large yellow eyes and a froth of bubbles on its back that partially resembled the cloak of a knight.

Serena always found herself coming back to the garden brook for this creature in particular — not just because it was an utterly adorable little one, but because Serena noticed that it was the only one of its kind that lived in the brook of the garden. The Wooper and Marill and Magikarp and Psyduck all had others with them, whether they be friends or potential partners. Froakie did not have such a thing and was often alone when the others were not around — sometimes there were even days when Serena arrived at the brook to see the blue creature waiting for her. Perhaps in Froakie’s eyes Serena was one of its closest friends.

So in her free time Serena came to the brook. She removed her shoes and pulled up the hem of her dress, sitting on the bank to dip her feet in. She spent a few moments alone accompanied by nothing but the lush greenery and the sound of rushing water. In time she saw some bubbles arise from where the wheel met the water, knowing full well that her old friend was near.

A pair of yellow eyes upon a light blue head rose out of the stream, with glee and swam over. Froakie leapt out of the brook with grace, landing on the bank and immediately snuggling against Serena’s leg. With a grin, she gently pet Froakie on the head.

“Missed me, didn’t you?”

Froakie didn’t nod, but simply kept snuggling up against the fibers of her dress, getting it damp but she couldn’t care at all. Sometimes it was nice to know that Froakie always wanted to be by her side. There were days where she wished she could bring Froakie into the castle with her where it could be her partner for real — however servants were not permitted to have a creature with them unless it was to help with work.

So for now, Serena was content with what she had. She sat in the garden with a lovely Froakie on her lap, the sound of the rushing water filling her ears and letting her relax for what felt like a single moment of her life. She took the buttery brioche bun out of her pocket and tore it in two, letting Froakie eat the bigger half while she took the smaller. She could not remember the last time she felt this peaceful.

The sound of a twig breaking was heard.

With haste, Serena glanced up to see a person standing by the tree. Had it been a stranger, then she probably would have dashed away in fear. However, her knowing the person did not make things feel any less strange.

Underneath the leaves of the tree was the Royal Squire to Sir Wikstrom, the main Knight and leading general of King AZ’s army. Just like her Calem was fifteen and was another orphaned bastard sold to the castle, except he was quite a bit taller with a dark head of hair that went just below his ears. For his age he was quite tall, almost as tall as his master, and his face was rather fair and youthful, something many people did not expect from a Squire of such an esteemed Knight. On Calem’s torso was a blue gambeson that fastened in the front and in his hand was a blunted sword that his master used to train — perhaps he had been doing some practice of his own.

Calem was lankier when they met years ago, back when she was a Royal Cup Washer and he was a Not-So-Royal Stable Boy. The year of working in the service of such a valiant knight had made him more physically capable than back in his days of tending to Skiddo and Gogoat. But all that armour scrubbing and flag carrying and sword sharpening seemed to do to sharpen the one thing Calem had trouble with — social skills.

“Were you a Vullaby in a past life?” Serena asked, amused.

Calem was caught off-guard and blinked, but in seconds he managed to recollect himself. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you appear to have a fondness for lurking,” Serena said in a voice more cheeky than what was expected for a Royal Cup Bearer. “And here I thought we were friends.” Her playful tone was something she only ever used for the people who knew her.

The Squire rolled his eyes. “And here I thought you were busy.” He took a few steps forward, leaning the practice sword against his shoulder. “Our Majesty would be saddened to know his Wine Courier has disappeared.”

Serena chuckled. “Our Majesty does not require my services right now,” she explains. “I figured that I’d see a friend.”

Calem’s eyes looked down to Froakie. The expression on his stony face morphed into a mild smile — as stoic as he was, he often reminded the world that he was not entirely heartless.

“Are you planning on standing there all day?” Serena asked. Her good-natured tone did little to douse the sarcasm in her voice.

Calem shook his head. “Only until Sir Wikstrom needs me again.” As he continued to walk he removed his well-worn leather boots and placed his practice sword onto the grass. He then rolled up his stockings to expose his rather shapely legs and sat next to Serena, dipping his bare feet into the babbling brook as well.

Serena moved her legs back and forth in the water, then eyed Calem. “Where is your Master anyway?”

“He is on rest from an injury,” he explained. “He hurt his ankle the last time we sparred.”

Serena raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Because of you or because of something else?”

For a few seconds Calem went silent, he let his eyes glance down to the rushing water.

“...I may have gotten a lucky blow on him.”

Amused, Serena laughed. “You’re much too modest,” she said cheekily. “Do not look so glum — at this rate you could become a Knight at sixteen.”

Calem seemed unconvinced, yet humoured. “That could never be — bastards don’t become knights, nobles do. I should be lucky they let me be anything but a Stable Boy.”

As she gently caressed Froakie’s head, Serena found herself nodding along. To an extent she knew what Calem was talking about. To her knowledge, she knew that Squires were often promoted Page Boys, and that Page Boys were often the sons from one of Kalos’s high born families, a bloodline that neither him nor her hailed from. Similar to how she became a Cup Bearer, Calem initially found himself performing the job when Sir Wikstrom’s original Squire left after an accident. A mistake while training caused the poor young boy to mar his dominant hand, leaving him unable to properly perform the duties of Squirehood.

Now without someone to tend to armour or sharpen swords, Sir Wikstrom employed the hardworking fourteen-year-old Stable Boy to fill the role until a replacement was found. Seeing as Calem always performed his duties to the best of his abilities, Sir Wikstrom grew rather fond of the boy in the short time he employed his services. In the Knight’s two decades of service to the Kalosian Crown, Calem had been the fastest armourer in all of the region, often getting his master suited up in the nick of time. He was also exceedingly adept at the other jobs of Squirehood — which included things like scrubbing armour, keeping swords sharp, and occasionally keeping a Knight well-shaven and clean.

When a dutiful son from one of Kalos’s most esteemed houses was sent to Shabboneau Castle to fill the Squire job, the mighty Knight discovered that the life of luxury that had sheltered the young boy had left him inept at the jobs bestowed to him. The noble son was sent back to Coastal Kalos in a week and Calem was offered the Squire job permanently — tradition be damned.

Although Serena did not know much else about Knighthood, she believed that Calem was fully capable of attaining it. Sometimes when she was travelling from King AZ’s study to the kitchen, she would glance outside to see Calem and his Master fencing in the courtyard with wooden weapons and shields. Additionally, if Sir Wikstrom and King AZ’s other soldiers were sent out for any military operations, Calem would be following on a Gogoat of his own carrying the valiant knight’s flag. There had even been a day where the Knights of Kalos were invited for a feast — instead of spending time being wined and dined by the King, Calem was outside in the courtyard, practicing his sword drills and striking a dummy with a blunted weapon.

Squirehood certainly seemed more interesting than being a Royal Cup Bearer, that was for sure.

With curiosity in her steely eyes, Serena glanced at Calem's practice sword. It was made of metal and not wood and the tip was rounded to avoid any accidental skewering of King AZ’s mighty soldiers.

Serena stood up and pulled her feet out of the water, causing Froakie to suddenly slip and tap its head against the ground. The poor thing looked up in confusion as Serena walked over to the sword sitting in the grass, Calem doing the same.

When she took the weapon in her hand, the first thing she noticed was how heavy it felt. Calem and Sir Wikstrom often maneuvered their weapons like they were made of nothing, whether warhammers or swords or spears. With one hand grasping the handle and the other holding the pommel, she used all of her strength to hold the blade up as if she were as fearless of the knights of yesteryear.

Suffice to say, Calem and Froakie were less impressed and more perplexed.

“What in Yvetal’s hellscape are you doing?” asked Calem.

“The latest ballroom dance,” replied Serena dryly. “Or is it not proper for a Lady to handle a Squire’s sword without position?”

There was a beat while Calem glanced to the ground with a kind of awkward grace, blinking as he did so. “I do not know,” he ended up saying. “Sir Wikstrom has not told me yet.”

In moments Calem pulled his feet out of the babbling brook. He did not bother to dry off as he stood up and walked to Serena, getting behind her and touching her hands with his.

“But if you are to use a sword, you might as well do it properly.”

He adjusted her grip on the handle — knowing that she was right handed, he placed her dominant hand underneath the crossguard and her left right onto the pear-shaped pommel. Although the sword could be used effectively with one hand, a beginner would benefit from using two.

Curiously, Froakie hopped a few feet forward as it watched Calem teaching Serena the ways of the blade. Had the creature been capable of human speech, perhaps it would have asked what on earth the Royal Cup Bearer was intending to do with a sword.

“Keep your feet shoulder’s width apart, it’ll help you stay balanced,” Calem explained. With his head situated just by her ear and his arms guiding hers, he showed her a few basic attacks — while thrusts were more effective, strikes were not to be ignored either.

For all of three minutes, Serena managed to make herself feel like a warrior, one that could slay dragons and go on endless adventures. As she swung the weapon at an imaginary beast, she glanced over to her teacher — Calem kept a watchful eye on her, much like Sir Wikstrom often did with him during training.

“That’s it,” Calem said. He stepped away from her and watched as she struck air on her own. “At this rate you shall be saving maidens in no time.”

Serena smirked. “Why wait?” She stopped swinging the sword and rested the practice weapon against her shoulder, looking at Calem playfully. “Why don’t you climb up to the tallest tower? I can rescue you by dinner time.”

Calem rolled his eyes. “Assuming I can play the role of a maiden, how original,” he spoke dryly.

With a laugh, Serena replied, “You’re certainly fair enough to be one.”

Amused, Calem gave her a quizzical glance. But before he could say anything else, the sound of a servant’s call garnered both of their attention.

“Serena!”

The two turned around to see an older maid running out of the servant’s entrance — specifically the one that gave access between the castle gardens and the kitchens.

“The King requested an early lunch!” the maid explained. “Please come!”

With a nod of her head, Serena turned to Calem and gave his weapon back. “Fear not, Fair Maiden, I shall be back another day.”

Calem managed a subdued chuckle as he took his sword in his hand. Before she left, Serena stepped forward and gave Calem a cheek-to-cheek kiss, a customary gesture between Kalosians. With a grin, she patted his shoulder and left him by the babbling brook, following her colleague through the servant’s passageways and disappearing into Shabboneau Castle.

Once she was gone, Calem glanced around. He immediately made eye contact with Froakie, who did nothing but stare at him with a vacant expression on its adorable face.

“What do you want?” the Squire asked, confused.

Froakie made no noise and simply turned around, seemingly deeming Calem unworthy of its time and hopping back into the water. Once the creature was gone, Calem scoffed and began walking away, taking his boots and sword with him. As he went, he began to wonder if every day of Squirehood would be like this.

[corasbunker]

Bad Mood Rising

Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: cheesy title, canon typical violence/mention of gore, language, a hint of mild angst?, smut (vaginal sex).

Words: 2,269

Note: Again, feedback is appreciated. I’m still getting the hang of writing reader inserts. Thanks!

Blue lights flickered in your rearview mirror. Shit, that the hell did you do now? You weren’t speeding, and your car was registered. Not registered to you, but that didn’t really matter. It wasn’t stolen.

You pulled over to the curb and shut the car off as you waited for the officer to babble some bullshit story about your tail light or something.

“Y/N?” you heard the instant you rolled your window down. Your gaze snapped to the tall, thin figure beside you. Sheriff uniform, check. Familiar face, check.

“Sam? What the���How the hell did you find me?” you snapped. There was no way he could have known where you were. You were three states over from home and had absolutely no ties to the part of Nebraska you were rolling through.

Sam pursed his lips, then tapped on the door. “I’m glad I found you before they did. There was a pack of werewolves on your tail since Iowa.” His voice was barely a whisper over the passing traffic. “I think they know about you.”

Your eyes widened. Shit. No, they couldn’t know. You’ve been so careful to keep your little, well, condition under wraps as you hunted the very beasts that made you who you were. You shook your head.

“How? It’s not like I’m out at night or anything—”

“And that’s just it,” Sam interrupted. “You’re not acting like a normal werewolf.”

“I’m not a normalwerewolf, Sam,” you mouthed. Sam let out a long sigh, then opened your door for you.

“We need to get you somewhere safe. They weren’t far behind when I started tailing you. They’ve backed off a little since then, but we may only have minutes before they catch up.” He stretched out his long arm and motioned for you to get up.

“My stuff is in the trunk.” You turned and lifted yourself from the driver’s seat. “Give me a minute,” you snapped. Sam took a step back, and you offered a silent apology. It wasn’t him who was putting you on edge.

You had hidden yourself for the last seven years, since the night a werewolf had bitten you in the shoulder and left you to bleed in an alley. Sure, a bite meant you were turned, and there was only a small window of time you had to get a cure. But, you were alone, and no one was there to keep you from turning.

There was only one small hitch, you didn’t exactly turn. Once you ended up at the steps of the Winchester’s bunker, you realized that you may not ever completely transform. Instead, you were only mildly affected by the phases of the moon, leading the boys and you to come to one conclusion.

You were somehow immune to the bite.

Now, you did have some changes, but never anything enough to make you dangerous. Your sense of smell heightened during the full moon, and your overall hunger. Oh, and you sex drive was through the fucking roof. Other than that, you were just stronger than the average human most of the time. You weren’t a wolf, or some sort of freak hybrid. You were just… you.

Sam led you around your small hatchback to the trunk, where you gathered your small arsenal of weapons and a few lore books, then headed for the sheriff car Sam was sporting. He grabbed one of the bags off your shoulder and shuffled you over to the car, then ushered you into the back seat. He probably wanted to keep some sort of appearance for the onlookers that were no doubt eyeing the two of you.

Your ass hit the stiff back seat a little harder than you thought it would, forcing an ooffrom your lungs. Then, Sam slammed the car in gear and floored the two of you down the road.

**

Sam pulled up to a motel about an hour from where you had left your car. It was a dive, per the Winchester usual, but it didn’t look like the scene of any recent murder. So, that was promising.

Sam quietly helped you schlep all of your belongings into the surprisingly large motel room. There were two beds, doubles, and an adjacent bathroom. To the right of the door, there was a small, apparently ancient sitting area with a love seat and table for two.

“Sorry to just pluck you out of whatever you were doing, but Dean and I have been trailing these guys for a while now. We spotted you at that truck stop in Cedar Rapids. That’s when we realized that they weren’t running from us, they were chasing you.” Sam peeled off his jacket and chucked it onto the loveseat, exposing the toned muscles of his shoulders under his thin thermal. You turned away immediately, furiously trying to chase off the memories of those very muscles under your fingertips.

“So, you think they know about my immunity?” you deadpanned. Sam simply nodded before taking a seat at the small table.

“I’m sure they do. What else would they want with you?��

“Thanks,” you huffed. Sam smirked, shaking his head.

“That’s not what I mean. It’s just that werewolves don’t usually hunt hunters. Sure, they’ll fight back, but they aren’t instigators. Not like vampires.” You nodded in agreement. It all made since.

“What, are they going to make some sort of cure with me?” You plopped down onto the loveseat. You ignored your pounding heart as you focused on the conversation. “Or make some sort of super werewolf army?” Sam shrugged.

“Who knows? But, they must see you as some sort of either threat or benefit. They were definitely interested in you.” He turned towards the window, inspecting the small slit of moonlight that beamed though the top of the curtains. “It’s a full moon.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” You leaned back and your mind began to race. “So, these fuckers are hunting me instead of hunting their next meal? How would their biology let them do that?” It didn’t make sense. You could feel the full moon, and you didn’t need to hunt. How could the pack resist the urge to hunt without losing their minds?

Sam let out a breath. “I’m sure they aren’t following us now. They can’t resist a meal. So, we’re at an advantage.” He smiled. “We’re safe for the night.”

Like that was any sort of relief. These guys would be almost back to themselves by morning, and they were probably within an hour’s drive from you. So, why the hell were you stopping there?

“So, we aren’t going to try to get more of a distance between us and them?” you muttered, trying not to look at Sam. Your breathing had quickened a little, signaling that the moon was starting to take its full affect. Your blood coursed through your veins, making you suddenly overheated.

Sam shook his head, studying you. He noticed your discomfort. “No. Dean wants us to hang close in case something goes down.” You shot up from your seat.

“Dean’s going in there alone? No!”

“No, Y/N. He has Cas with him, and our friend Jody. They can handle it. He said that I would be the best person to watch you through tonight.” And that’s where Dean was wrong. You and Sam had a history, there was no denying that. But, you had steered clear of the man for the last two years, leaving him out of sight and out of mind. Well, almost out of mind.

Now, he was very much in sight, and the primal thread that raced through you now was making sure he was the only thing clouding your mind.

“Fine. That’s fine. I just—I need to change. Sleeping though the cycle is usually the best move for me.” It was an outright lie. You could never sleep though the full moon, but you needed an excuse to get out of that room.

So, you grabbed your bag and excused yourself to the bathroom. A nice shower would be a good way to get Sam out of your mind. And it would help soothe the ache that pulsed under your skin.

You turned the knob on the hot water and waited for the steam to rise. Then, you entered the blue and orange tiled shower, allowing the heat to devour you.

You could hear Sam shuffling on the other side of the door. Small grunts and sighs filled your supersonic hearing. Shit, were you ever going to get an escape from him? Why couldn’t Dean or Cas have been the ones to pick you up. No, it was Sam Winchester, the sweet and spicy man who made every single one of your nerve flare by the mere mention of his name.

You heard the movement of clothing, sending your imagination into overdrive. You were sure he was changing right now, removing that thermal and exposing those sand dune shoulders. Your mind focused on the memory of his long arms encompassing you, sliding you down creamy sheets and under this thundering form.

The thud of the opening door jarred you from your daydream. “Sam?” you called out from your steamy fog. You were met by the sound of footsteps, nearly forcing your heart from your chest. “Sam?”

“Y/N,” Sam answered with a growl.

And with that one word, you were done for.

You peeled the show curtain back, revealing a very naked, and very aroused Sam staring back at you. You sucked in a breath as you released any last bit of restraint left in your body.

“Sam,” you groaned as he approached you and practically leapt into the shower with you. Your arms stretched, latching onto the towering man as if for dear life. Your ears pounded and your body buzzed as his hands pulled and tugged at any bit of flesh he could grasp.

Your lips met the moment Sam pinned you against the cool tile. His tongue quickly dominated your mouth as he nipped and sucked on your lips. One of his hands found it’s place on your ass, squeezing your cheek while he rolled his hips against you.

Sam’s cock skimmed over your lower stomach, forcing a moan to leave your bound lips. His other hand smoothed down your chest, fingers latching onto one of your nipples, coaxing out a moan.

“Sam,” you huffed. Your head rolled back onto the tile as you let the gorgeous man over you completely take over. His hand slowly lifted from your breast, migrating done to your aching pussy. Your breathing hitched the moment his calloused finger skirted over your clit. You rocked your hips while he nipped against your neck to your shoulder.

Sam slipped his finger further, just barely entering your soaked hole. He groaned at the feeling of your slick encasing his digit.

“Oh, Y/N, I missed this,” he purred into your ear. Then, he scraped his teeth over your earlobe.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Sam,” you commanded. He let out a low chuckle, then he lifted his hand and gripped your right leg. You lifted it up, allowing him to support you against the tile. He lined himself up with your entrance, then paused.

His golden gaze scanned over your face, studying you. You could hear his heart roaring through his chest. There was a glimmer of the gentle part of Sam, the part most people saw, gazing down at you. But, the moment you rolled your hips against him, he lost it.

Sam lifted you ever so slightly, then lowered you down onto his cock. Your nails dug into his smooth shoulders as he stretched you, filling you more than you remembered.

The moment he bottomed out inside you, he began his slow rhythm, pinning you against the wall. He held you impossibly close, moving his lips from your own, to your neck, then back again. Your breathing turned into pants as your body soared on the high of the full moon.

Sam’s hand traveled down to your clit and his finger pressed just right over the throbbing nub. You didn’t know how close you were to your climax until your orgasm was already pulsing though every nerve.

“Sam!” you shrieked while the pounding waves of your arousal washed over your dripping skin. You wiggled as each pulse hit you, but Sam kept you pinned beneath him, quickening his pace. He rocked against you and grit his teeth. He was close; you could sense it.

Just as your climax eased, Sam curled his fingers around your hips and spilled deep inside you. He bucked and moaned as he chased his high, before finally slumping against your body.

The two of you huffed as you struggled to catch your breath. The water was barely lukewarm by now, but it felt good against your searing skin. Even though your bones ached, you never wanted that feeling to go away.

A minute later, Sam’s large hand cupped your cheek. His lips skimmed over yours. Then, he pulled away.

“Y/N,” he repeated. His face changed. The primal need behind his eyes was gone, and replaced by a caring, soft light that made your pounding heart flutter. You just pressed your lips against his and savored the taste of him.

You didn’t know if you would be gone before the morning, leaving him behind like last time. Or, if you would give in and let Sam Winchester enter your life for good. All you knew was that you wanted him to be there right now, and that wasn’t the full moon talking.

[beyondthetemples]

{{ Listen, I am REALLY excited about that last reply. So, although I usually keep these on my Personal OOC Blog, I’m gonna babble a bit about why I wrote that post the way I did.

Below the cut, you’ll find me considering the 80′s comics, rambling about Azar, considering the history of Azarath and Trigon, gushing really excitedly about Azar, surprisingly not talking about Raven much aside from the fact that she died in the comic version of Season 4, and really just thinking about Azar a lot because writing for her always makes me Really Super Squee-Feeling, okay. 

SO! I don’t even know if anyone else will care to read this, but my heartrate is still raised from that post so I HAVE to ramble a little! I’ve been carefully curating that reply for, what, a month? Debating how I want to write Azar, because she’s a hugely important figure in Dove’s life, in Raven’s life, in Arella’s life, and I’m super attached to all of those characters, not to mention Azarath itself, so of course I’m super emotionally attached to Azar too, and I want to Do Her Justice.

tl;dr it’s a lot of comic canon, and I gave her some ~sass~ because the Azar I know isn’t just some empty enigmatic figurehead, but is, in fact, Actually Badass.

(Edit before I post this: I’m rambling really hard, actually. It’s an entire ESSAY. Read at your own risk!)

Can you tell I’ve read the 80′s comics? A lot? Because I feel like the Entire Style of that last post was written in the “New Teen Titans” narrative style. Word choice and sentence structure, sure, but also just Sowing Seeds of plot points yet to come. Azar being all “we’re gonna Do This Thing, but I won’t tell you How just yet”. Hinting, just oh-so-very VAGUELY at ~History~. Azarath Lore Via Speech. It’s just... it’s very 80′s Wolfman Titans style.

I’ve probably read Tales of the New Teen Titans #2, Raven’s backstory wherein it takes place in Azarath and Azar is actually alive, more times than I’ve watched any episode of the show combined. And I’ve watched every single episode at least 17 times, so that that tells you how much I love reading about Azar/Azarath.....

Admittedly, that issue’s kinda what I hyperfixated on. I took some ~Liberties~ with Azar and the history of Trigon and Azarath, since we only ever got like 2 vague sentences of History, and Azar only ever Actually Spoke like three times. (And one of those times she was dying, so does it even count?) But most of it is extrapolated from comic canon! Mystical Enigmatic Azar is also comic canon, but the One Thing I really like to add to her character is that little ~hint~ of sass. Hard to explain why it’s sass, specifically, but let’s just say I always get a vibe of Not Just Being This Enigmatic Figurehead from her. Like. She’s a person, too? A strong-willed, determined, defiant person.

She’s literally the reason Trigon doesn’t rule Earth in the comics! I’m not talking about the way she raised and trained Raven to defy him. (What? I’M not TALKING about RAVEN?! Believe it or not: It’s true!) I mean, after Raven had already gone Full Demon (and died), Azar LITERALLY took the souls of Azarath and DESTROYED TRIGON HERSELF.

Also, it’s from NTT II rather than TotNTT, but Azaratheans, actually?? DOING SOMETHING??? to DEFEAT TRIGON???? Even though they won’t so much as look up from their meditation when someone else’s life is in danger, they RISE UP when Trigon’s involved????

Yeah, I debated HARD on how to find the balance between Azar Getting Involved and Azaratheans Being So Non-Resistant They Literally Let Themselves Die When Trigon Attacked Azarath, but the whole “Fending Off Trigon” thing? That’s also canon as fuck.

If I remember correctly, the “letting us die” thing was actually part of a Long Game Azar was playing in the comics to defeat Trigon in “Terror of Trigon”?

Azar’s actually kind of badass.

(Pacifist leader? BADASS? Yes, you read that right! Azar’s a BRILLIANT example of why “nonviolence” isn’t the same thing as “utter inaction”.)

.....Hhhhhh, I want to post a TON more comic panels, but that would stretch your dashes as much as the rp post itself. Suffice to say, Azar had PLANS, So let me try to summarize: Azar planned to defeat Trigon from the start.

And things went very differently in the comics. I mean, the story that Season 4 adapted was the (first) time in the comics that Raven DIED. She had to die for this version’s plot to work out.

But, clearly, the cartoon didn’t find that necessary. (And I’m so glad. I mean, can’t do Dead on a 2000′s kid show anyways, but... 8F Well. You know how I am about Raven.)

Little known fact, I’m actually pretty damn devoted to Azar too.

It’s not ALL comics; I did try to blend in the fact that the “ring of Azar” that could offer “protection” from Trigon’s power from the show, so clearly in Show Canon, Azar’s power is useful against him too.

In the comics, those rings were like conduits for Azar’s power that led to her being able to bring the Azaratheans to Earth to do the whole Defeating Trigon thing!

I talk about this all the time, too: In the comics, there were TWO RINGS. Two! The show only shows what happens to ONE! I headcanon that Dove’s grandmother was close enough to Azar to have been given one of the rings. Then Magena gave it to Dove’s mother, and Dove brought it out of Azarath when she left for Earth.

So uhh. Sneak peek I guess, I’m considering making the ring Dove has play a part in the RP. We’ll see where it goes.

(But Caleb did give her a ring of his own, too, so maybe they could work in synergy somehow? Hmmmm.......)

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm Interlude 1 - In which we talk about “descendants” and “progenitors”

Huh? Interlude 1? What is this, some sort of bonus between sagas? Hmmm.

“We don’t know how long he had been there.  Suspended in the air above the Atlantic Ocean.  On May twentieth, 1982, an ocean liner was crossing from Plymouth to Boston when a passenger spotted him.  He was naked, his arms to his sides, his long hair blowing in the wind as he stood in the sky, nearly a hundred feet above the gently cresting waves.  His skin and hair can only be described as a burnished gold.  With neither body hair nor clothes to cover him, it is said, he seemed almost artificial.

Oooh is this like backstory?? On the world itself?? This is all the way back to 1982!! It sounds like a documentary of important events of the past! Is this what the interludes are going to be? Lore bombs?. I’m game for that : D

So floating in the middle of the ocean was a man with long hair, no clothes, and his skin with the apearance of gold. That makes for an incredible mental image. Holy shit powers are awesome

He’s giving me strong Dr Manhattan vibes, but this one has hair and is yellow instead of blue.

“After a discussion including passenger and crew, the liner detoured to get closer.  It was a sunny day, and passengers crowded to the railings to get a better look.  As if sharing their curiosity, the figure drew closer as well.  His expression was unchanging, but witnesses at the scene reported that he appeared deeply sad.

People getting closer to something that could be dangerous to record it and/or touch it is such a staple of humanity. That would 100% happen in our world

He looks deeply sad....Maybe it’s because of the Manhattan vibes, but this screams deep, profound loneliness to me. Or detachment from the world. Where did this golden man even come from? He was suddently spotted one day all radiant and sorrowfull...

“‘I thought he was going to crack his facade and cry any moment’, said Grace Lands, ‘But when I reached out and touched his fingertips, I was the one who burst into tears.’

Damn, they make him sound majestic. Holy shit.

Also this is totally a documentary! I love the format of this.

“‘That boat trip was a final journey for me.  I had cancer, and I wasn’t brave enough to face it.  Can’t believe I’m admitting this in front of a camera, but I was going back to Boston, where I was born, to end things myself.  After I met him, I changed my mind.  Didn’t matter anyways.  I went to a doctor, and he said there was no sign I ever had the disease.’

!!!!!

The golden man can cure cancer! Is his power omni-healing? A universal cure? He basically did a miracle there!

He has this amazing healing power and was just floating idly over the sea... He still gives me massive Manhattan vibes..

“‘My brother, Andrew Hawke, was the last passenger to make any sort of contact with him, I remember.  He climbed up onto the railing, and, almost falling off, he clasped the hand of the golden man.  The rest of us had to grab onto him to keep him from falling.  Whatever happened left him with a quiet awe.  When the man with the golden skin flew away, my brother stayed silent.  The rest of the way to Boston, my brother didn’t say a word.  When we docked, and the spell finally broke, my brother babbled his excitement to reporters like a child.’

Were superheroes less common at that time? I mean, golden man here still seems amazing even with that we have seen, but they are acting like it happened in our world!

“The golden man would reappear several more times in the coming months and years.  At some point, he donned clothing.  At first, a sheet worn over one shoulder and pinned at either side of the waist, then more conventional clothes.  In 1999, he donned the white bodysuit he still wears today.  For more than a decade, we have wondered, where did our golden man get these things?  Who was he in contact with?

So he has a contact! Who gives him clothes and maybe equipment? And no one in the world knows? He seems as much a mystery to them as to us!

“Periodically at first, then with an increasing frequency, the golden man started to intervene in times of crisis.  For events as small as a car accident, as great as natural disasters, he has arrived and used his abilities to save us.  A flash of light to freeze water reinforcing a levee stressed by a hurricane.  A terrorist act averted.  A serial murderer caught.  A volcano quelled.  Miracles, it was said.

H-Holy shit.

This makes Lung seem like nothing. What is even his power??

Curing diseases, freezing water, calming volcanoes....He performs actual miracles! Is his power just... all the powers??? Or a power that does everything???

How high in the hierarchy is this guy??

“His pace increased, perhaps because he was still learning what he could do, perhaps because he was getting a greater sense of where he was needed.  By the middle of the 1990s, he was traveling from crisis to crisis, flying faster than the speed of sound.  In fifteen years, he has not rested.

Oh my god....

He has been saving people and doing good deeds for over fifteen years, EVERY SINGLE MOMENT OF EVERY DAY.

Holy fucking shit.

Is this the #1 hero?? The “All Might” of this world?? But this....this is even more insane. He’s like the ultimate good!

“He has been known to speak just once in thirty years.  After extinguishing widespread fire in Alexandrovsk, he paused to survey the scene and be sure no blazes remained.  A reporter spoke to him, and asked, ‘Kto vy?’ – what are you?

“Shocking the world, caught on camera in a scene replayed innumerable times, he answered in a voice that sounded as though it might never have uttered a sound before.  Barely audible, he told her, ‘Scion’.

!!!!!!

This is giving me all of the chills, ever.

Scion

Descendant?? What does that even mean?? Why are you so mysterious and amazing at the same time, golden man????

“It became the name we used for him.  Ironic, because we took a word that meant descendant, and used it to name the first of many superpowered individuals – parahumans – to appear across Earth.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WAIT HOLD THE FUCK UP

He’s just not the best, he’s the first!!!!

The first superhero ever!!!!

Oh my god, he’s superman! Both in meta and in-story!!

Godly do-everything powers, ultimate good, first ever superhero....

He’s the man of tomorrow!!! But without like the secret identity part. This is who Superman would be if he never stopped saving people, ever. If he was a hero all the time!!

THIS IS SO COOL.

“Just five years after Scion’s first appearance, the superheroes emerged from the cover of rumor and secrecy to show themselves to the public. Though the villains followed soon after, it was the heroes who shattered any illusions of the parahumans being divine figures.  In 1989, attempting to quell a riot over a basketball game in Michigan, the superhero known to the public as Vikare stepped in, only to be clubbed over the head.  He died not long after of a brain embolism.  Later, he would be revealed to be Andrew Hawke.

WAIT AND NOW YOU DROP THIS ON ME.

One of the first superheroes was the man who touched him at the boat!!! Did he give him his power??? DId touching him grant him powers??? What???

But then what about all the other people who got powers afterwards??. I’m sure he wasn’t there for them all??? WHAT IS GOING ON?? Was that just a coincidence??

“The golden age of the parahumans was thus short lived.  They were not the deific figures they had appeared to be.  Parahumans were, after all, people with powers, and people are flawed at their core.  Government agencies took a firmer hand, and state-”

Can I just say that I fucking love how despite all their powers and grace, parahumans are just human, with all their virtues and flaws, and it was this that made people realize that they were not gods, just men?? That one of the superheroes of the golden age died from a simple hit to the head??

God, this is so great.

The television flicked off, and the screen went black, cutting the documentary off mid sentence.  Danny Hebert sighed and sat down on the bed, only to stand just a moment later and resume pacing.

It was three fifteen in the morning, and his daughter Taylor was not in her bedroom.

WHAT. It was indeed a documentary! A documentary that Taylor’s dad was watching! While waiting for his daughter to come home (and her being presumably dealing with the fire demon situation)

What a way to link this to the main story

For the twentieth time, he felt the urge to ask his wife for help, for advice, for support.  But her side of the bed was empty and it had been for some time.  Daily, it seemed, he was struck by the urge to call her cell phone.  He knew it was stupid – she wouldn’t pick up – and if he dwelt on that for too long, he became angry at her, which just made him feel worse.

Oh so Taylor doesn’t have a mom? ):

Poor Taylor and poor Danny... He seems to have regrets... I would say they broke up but the “she wouldn’t pick up” line makes me think she’s dead..

He wondered, even as he knew the answer, why he hadn’t gotten Taylor a cell phone.  Danny didn’t know what his daughter was doing, what would drive her to go out at night.  She wasn’t the type.  He could tell himself that most fathers felt that way about their daughters, but at the same time, he knew.  Taylor wasn’t social.  She didn’t go to parties, she wouldn’t drink, she wasn’t even that interested in champagne when they celebrated the New Year together.

Hmm, Taylor doesn’t have a cellphone? Danny seems to have an issue with them..

Also damn. Taylor did this to free herself from her troubles and start her dreams but didn’t account for how she would make his father feel.... Probably didn’t even think on the possibility that he would wake up and she wouldn’t be there.

Two ominous possibilities kept nagging at him, both too believable.  The first was that Taylor had gone out for fresh air, or even for a run. She wasn’t happy, especially at school, he knew, and exercise was her way of working through it.  He could see her doing it on a Sunday night, with a fresh week at school looming.  He liked that her running made her feel better about herself, that she seemed to be doing it in a reasonable, healthy way. He just hated that she had to do it here, in this neighborhood.  Because here, a skinny girl in her mid-teens was an easy target for attack.  A mugging or worse – he couldn’t even articulate the worst of the possibilities in his own thoughts without feeling physically sick.  If she had gone out at eleven in the evening for a run and hadn’t come back by three in the morning, then it meant something had happened.

Damn, I feel the adult fear Danny is expierencing. Having a daughter to take care of, worring about horrible things happening to her, about her general happiness ...

This is very well written.

He glanced out the window again, at that corner of the house where the pool of illumination beneath the streetlight would let him see her approaching.  Nothing. 

Checking out over and over again to see if she has come back, knowing that each time you look and it isn’t so, it is yet another weight of worry over your weary shoulders....

The second possibility wasn’t much better.  He knew Taylor was being bullied.  Danny had found that out in January, when his little girl had been pulled out of school and taken to the hospital.  Not the emergency room, but the psychiatric ward.  She wouldn’t say by whom, but under the influence of the drugs they had given her to calm down, she had admitted she was being victimized by bullies, using the plural to give him a clue that it was a they and not a he or a she.  She hadn’t mentioned it – the incident or the bullying – since.  If he pushed, she only tensed up and grew more withdrawn.  He had resigned himself to letting her reveal the details in her own time, but months had passed without any hints or clues being offered.

Oh god, they bullied her so bad she went to the phychiatric ward??? What the hell!??

Oh my god those three fucking monsters. And Danny has been tormenting himself over all this since! Wanting to help but not wanting to intrude in such personal matters...

There was precious little Danny could do on the subject, either.  He had threatened to sue the school after his daughter had been taken to the hospital, and the school board had responded by settling, paying her hospital bills and promising they would look out for her to prevent such events from occurring in the future. It was a feeble promise made by a chronically overworked staff and it didn’t do a thing to ease his worries.  His efforts to have her change schools had been stubbornly countered with rules and regulations about the maximum travel times a student was allowed to have between home and a given school.  The only other school within a reasonable distance of Taylor’s place of residence was Arcadia High, and it was already desperately overcrowded with more than two hundred students on a list requesting admittance.

Ugh schools being so useless is also very realistic, sadly....

It sucks and everyone refuses to help.

With all that in mind, when his daughter disappeared until the middle of the night, he couldn’t shake the idea that the bullies might have lured her out with blackmail, threats or empty promises.  He only knew about the one incident, the one that had landed her in the hospital, but it had been grotesque.  It had been implied, but never elaborated on, that more had been going on.  He could imagine these boys or girls that were tormenting his daughter, egging one another on as they came up with more creative ways to humiliate or harm her.  Taylor hadn’t said as much aloud, but whatever had been going on had been mean, persistent and threatening enough that Emma, Taylor’s closest friend for years, had stopped spending time with her.  It galled him.

Aaaaaa, if you only knew!!! This is so sadly ironic, Emma’s got more to do with this than you are even aware of...

And what the hell did they do that time???

Impotent.  Danny was helpless where it counted.  There was no action he could take – his one call to the police at two in the morning had only earned him a tired explanation that the police couldn’t act or look for her without something more to go on.  If his daughter was still gone after twelve hours, he’d been told, he should call them again.  All he could do was wait and pray with his heart in his throat that the phone wouldn’t ring, a police officer or nurse on the other end ready to tell him what had happened to his daughter.

Ugh, what he is living though is just... awful.

He’s completely helpless to her daughter when she might be in need (or at least that’s what he thinks) and he’s waiting for a phone call telling him that something terrible has happened, and for his life to stop making sense.

Fuck

The slightest of vibrations in the house marked the escape of the warm air in the house to the cold outdoors, and there was a muffled whoosh as the kitchen door shut again.  Danny Hebert felt a thrill of relief coupled with abject fear.  If he went downstairs to find his daughter, would he find her hurting or hurt?  Or would his presence make things worse, her own father seeing her at her most vulnerable after humiliation at the hands of bullies?  She had told him, in every way except articulating it aloud, that she didn’t want that.  She had pleaded with him, with body language and averted eye contact, unfinished sentences and things left unsaid, not to ask, not to push, not to see, when it came to the bullying.  He couldn’t say why, exactly.  Home was an escape from that, he’d suspected, and if he recognized the bullying, made it a reality here, maybe she wouldn’t have that relief from it. Perhaps it was shame, that his daughter didn’t want him to see her like that, didn’t want to be that weak in front of him.  He really hoped that wasn’t the case.

Oh Taylor has returned after the Armsmaster talk!! Yess

And now Danny doesn’t know if to approach her for if he sees her in her weakest moment, he thinks it would break his daughter even more

Damn being Danny is suffering, at least today! Worse thing is, Taylor must be feeling realtively happy after being owed a favour by a famous hero and helping stop a villain...

So he ran his fingers through his hair once more and sat down on the corner of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands on his head, and stared at his closed bedroom door.  His ears were peeled for the slightest clue. The house was old, and it hadn’t been a high quality building when it had been new, so the walls were thin and the structure prone to making noise at every opportunity.  There was the faintest sound of a door closing downstairs.  The bathroom?  It wouldn’t be the basement door, with no reason for her to go down there, and he couldn’t imagine it was a closet, because after two or three minutes, the same door opened and closed again.

It was probably the basement, to hide her costume again.

After something banged on the kitchen counter, there was little but the occasional groan of floorboards.  Five or ten minutes after she had come in, there was the rhythmic creak of the stairs as she ascended. Danny thought about clearing his throat to let her know he was awake and available should she knock on his door, but decided against it.  He was being cowardly, he thought, as if his clearing of his throat would give reality to his fears.

Her door shut carefully, almost inaudibly, with the slightest tap of door on doorframe.  Danny stood, abruptly, opening his door, ready to cross the hall and knock on her door.  To verify that his daughter was okay.

Aaaaaa this hurts! If only you could talk to each other! The worse part is I know Taylor would be distressed if Danny tried to talk with her! She would worry about her cover being blown, about having to explain herself or even just about making her father worry!

He was stopped by the smell of jam and toast.  She had made a late night snack.  It filled him with relief.  He couldn’t imagine his daughter, after being mugged, tormented or humiliated, coming home to have toast with jam as a snack.  Taylor was okay, or at least, okay enough to be left alone.

He let out a shuddering sigh of relief and retreated to his room to sit on the bed.

Yes!! At least now he has some proof that things are somewhat ok : D

Relief became anger.  He was angry at Taylor, for making him worry, and then not even going out of her way to let him know she was okay.  He felt a smouldering resentment towards the city, for having neighborhoods and people he couldn’t trust his daughter to.  He hated the bullies that preyed on his daughter.  Underlying it all was frustration with himself.  Danny Hebert was the one person he could control in all of this, and Danny Hebert had failed to do anything that mattered.  He hadn’t gotten answers, hadn’t stopped the bullies, hadn’t protected his daughter.  Worst of all was the idea that this might have happened before, with him simply sleeping through it rather than laying awake.

Damn, this still hurts.

Danny you are a good father, you worry about your daughter so much. Don’t hate yourself for feeling useless. It’s a bad situation overall.

He stopped himself from walking into his daughter’s room, from shouting at her and demanding answers, even if it was what he wanted, more than anything.  Where had she been, what had she been doing?  Was she hurt? Who were these people that were tormenting her?  He knew that by confronting her and getting angry at her, he would do more harm than good, would threaten to sever any bond of trust they had forged between them.

He wants to be more of a father, to demand answers and try to protect her, to see if she’s doing something self-destructive or dangerous, but he’s afraid that he’ll lose her if he does that. That their bond will be irreparably damaged...

Danny’s father had been a powerful, heavyset man, and Danny hadn’t gotten any of those genes.  Danny had been a nerd when the term was still young in popular culture, stick thin, awkward, short sighted, glasses, bad fashion sense.  What he had inherited was his father’s famous temper.  It was quick to rise and startling in its intensity.   Unlike his father, Danny had only ever hit someone in anger twice, both times when he was much younger.  That said, just like his father, he could and would go off on tirades that would leave people shaking.   Danny had long viewed the moment he’d started to see himself as a man, an adult, to be the point in time where he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t ever lose his temper with his family.  He wouldn’t pass that on to his child the way his father had to him.

“Unlike his father”... Oh

Oh no.

Danny you are not him, you are better than him. You seem like a wonderful man!

Seems Taylor inherited her tall, thin physique from him.

He had never broken that oath with Taylor, and knowing that was what kept him contained in his room, pacing back and forth, red in the face and wanting to punch something.  While he’d never gotten angry at her, never screamed at her, he knew Taylor had seen him angry.  Once, he had been at work, talking to a mayor’s aide.  The man had told Danny that the revival projects for the Docks were being cancelled and that, contrary to promises, there were to be layoffs rather than new jobs for the already beleaguered Dockworkers.  Taylor had been spending the morning in his office on the promise that they would go out for the afternoon, and had been in a position to see him fly off the handle in the worst way with the man.  Four years ago, he had lost his temper with Annette for the first time, breaking his oath to himself.  That had been the last time he had seen her.  Taylor hadn’t been there to see him shouting at her mother, but he was fairly certain she’d heard some of it.  It shamed him.

This makes it seem like they broke up. but.. if she really is dead... what a final conversation to have, angry with each other. No wonder he seems to have a lot of regrets with all of that. And with Taylor seeing him like he saw his father as well...

The third and last time that he had lost his temper where Taylor had been in a position to know had been when she had been hospitalized following the incident in January.  He’d screamed at the school’s principal, who had deserved it, and at Taylor’s then-Biology teacher, who probably hadn’t.  It had been bad enough that a nurse had threatened to call for a police officer, and Danny, barely mollified, had stomped from the hallway to the hospital room to find his daughter more or less conscious and wide eyed in reaction.  Danny harbored a deep fear that the reason Taylor hadn’t offered any details on the bullying was out of fear he would, in blind rage, do something about it.  It made him feel sick, the notion that he might have contributed something to his daughter’s self imposed isolation in how she was dealing with her problems.

He’s probably right about that, that Taylor doesn’t want his father involved...

January seemed a horrific month for them both.

It took Danny a long time to calm down, helped by telling himself over and over that Taylor was okay, that she was home, that she was safe.  It was something of a blessing that, as the anger faded, he felt drained.  He climbed into the left side of the bed, leaving the right side empty out of a habit he’d yet to break, and pulled the covers up around himself.

He would talk to Taylor in the morning.  Get an answer of some sort.

The space he leaves for Taylor’s mom   )):

Things will be better in the morning, sleep it off for now...

Also I wonder how Taylor will explain herself. Maybe she’s thinking about that.

He dreamed of the ocean.

We started this chapter with the ocean, and we seem to end on it, how poetic.

One ocean the scenery for a sight that would change the world forever, and the other a moment of peace in a storm of anxiety.

This interlude was incredibly good.

[alternative27angel]

Fox Hunt Ch. 3

This took longer than expected. Fell down the rabbit hole when rebuilding (or plainly just building) the lore.

Chapter Summary: Before Marinette agrees to any kind of magical tasks for secret, possibly cosmic beings, she’s going to need some answers.

Also on AO3

-x-x-x-

It was a mouse?? A fox??? A flying mouse-fox!?

Whatever it was, it had Marinette screaming in terror and flinging everything she could to get it away from her. Not that that seemed to bother it. It just kept staring at her and occasionally swaying side to side to avoid whatever got too close to making contact.

"Marinette," it called out, "take a deep breath. I'm not a mouse or a fox–technically speaking. I'm a kwami, and I can explain everything."

She took a deep breath as it suggested, and then proceeded to babble more.

The kwami-thing quickly flew over and held a paw in front of her face. "But it's kinda hard to talk when you're panicking like that."

Being so close to it startled Marinette into silence. The kwami sighed in relief and flew back a few feet to give her space.

"Now then. My name is Trixx, and as I just said, I'm a kwami. I'm here because you've been chosen to help us save the Miraculous from falling into the hands of evil. Any questions?"

Marinette blinked.

"Uh… yeah. First off, what's a kwami, where'd you come from, what are Miraculous, what do you mean by "hands of evil", who is "us", and-" here she lunged forward and got right into Trixx's face "-WHY ME?"

Trixx, startled despite their self, held up both paws and backed further away. "Excellent questions! Let's work on volume, though. No one can know I exist, and that goes for your parents too. Secrecy is of the utmost importance."

"Uh…"

"Don't worry, I'll explain everything later," the kwami waved away her various questions. "For now, just know that kwami are god-like beings, born at the very beginning of existence, that grant magical powers unto humans–and we can be abused if we fall into the wrong hands."

A solemn pause followed that ominous note. 'As they are now,' went unspoken. Marinette could read between the lines well enough to get that much.

After a breath, Trixx continued, "Now, as I am the kwami of the Fox Miraculous, I grant the power of Knowledge… But more on that later! As for your other questions, the easiest way to answer them is for us to meet with my companions. Come!"

Faster than Marinette could catch, the kwami had zipped past her and phased right through the trapdoor.

"Hey, wait! Hold on a second!"

Sparing a thought to wonder at why she was even going after the weird creature, Marinette stuffed the box into her purse and then ran off in hot pursuit.

-----

She had chased Trixx several blocks now, and it was really starting to wear on her.

Every time she was close to catching up, the two would come across someone and then Trixx would hide away. She couldn't exactly hunt for them with others watching nearby, so she'd have to wait until the person had either left or wasn't paying attention. Then, she'd crouch and climb as inconspicuously as possible around everything until she'd finally find Trixx. And bam, they'd take off again!

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Now it would be sunset soon, Marinette had a growing stitch in her side, and it seemed like Trixx had been leading her in circles. At this rate, she'd just have to qui-

"We're here!" chimed what was now becoming a familiar voice.

Gasping with relief (and a desperate need for air), she gazed up at their destination from her hunched over position. The building didn't seem like the type of place where magical creatures resided in secret…

Following the kwami's instruction, she made her way up to the massage shop and knocked on the door.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" she whispered, peering surreptitiously into her purse, where the kwami was tucked out of sight.

"Of course. Just trust me."

The old man that answered the door had not been what she was expecting. Especially since she recognized him.

"You!"

He nodded. "Me, yes. And I have been waiting for you, young lady." Opening the door wider, he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.

After making sure she was settled in, the old man procured four cups of tea. Handing one cup to her, setting two down between them, and keeping another for himself, he then sat across from her.

"Um…"

"Much obliged, sir!" With a pleased hum, Trixx zipped out from their hiding place and settled in front of one of the other two cups, exhaling a pleased sigh after taking a surprisingly delicate sip.

Ignoring Marinette's spluttering, the old man called out behind him. "I made some for you as well, Wayzz."

A green creature–about the same size as Trixx–flitted across the room and claimed the last cup of tea for themselves. Closer inspection revealed it was more turtle-like than fox-like, but it was about as close to one as Trixx was to the other.

The old man took the chance to scrutinize her, making her sit ramrod straight and almost spill her drink. However, after a moment, he chuckled and sent her a comforting smile.

"No need to be so tense, Marinette. My name is Wang Fu, and this is my partner, Wayzz. I imagine you have things you want to ask."

Trixx interrupted before she could even attempt to get her thoughts in order. "Ah yes, she wanted to know the usual things. You know, who are we, what are we, who are the bad guys. Standard stuff."

Fu hummed in understanding. "Well, to answer that, in order: I am the Guardian of the Miraculous and the kwami that inhabit them, and I was chosen many years ago to wield the Turtle Miraculous. Just as you have been chosen now to wield the Fox. It is an honor very few are considered worthy of. As for "bad guys" and what we're doing, that is a bit more complicated…"

At that, he trailed off and focused on his tea instead.

The silence stretched on, but the old man didn't seem inclined to continue.

"If… if you're asking me to help you with whatever it is you're doing, I need to know what I'm getting into."

He looked back up, and this time Marinette didn't flinch as they made eye contact. She wanted to shrink as his eyes narrowed and seemed to peer even harder into her. It was as if he was measuring her worth, and she couldn't help but feel he would only find her wanting.

Still, nothing in the world was going to make her sign up for some magical, obviously dangerous task with high stakes before telling her just how dangerous and important it was.

The old man hummed and then nodded in acquiescence. "A fair point. We are asking quite a lot, and it would not do to send you out there unprepared. Very well."

Slowly climbing to his feet, he made his way over to the gramophone and dragged his fingertips along the gold designs. After a moment, seeming to gather himself, he turned back to Marinette.

"For centuries, there has been a temple devoted to safe-guarding the Miraculous, vessels of power that–when inhabited by kwami–imbue their wearers with incredible abilities. However, that ended a hundred years ago when one of the monks foolishly trusted a person with ill-intentions."

Here he paused, and Marinette noted the old man's fists were beginning to clench so tightly that the knuckles had turned white.

"The temple was destroyed and-" his breath hitched "-and most of the monks with it."

The kwamis shared a solemn look before Wayzz flew over to comfort his master. Likewise, Trixx floated down to settle by Marinette's hand, patting it gently whilst keeping their attention on the old man as he gathered himself.

"In a desperate act to save the Miraculous, that foolish monk did the only thing he could think of."

Fu turned back to the gramophone and fiddled with a secret panel to punch in the combination. "In the beginning, there were nineteen Miraculous. Many centuries ago, we lost the Peacock and Butterfly. And 300 years later…"

He stepped back to reveal a large black box with a multitude of compartments. Marinette got up and moved to peer inside.

Every single one was empty.

"I myself lost all the others," he finished, a broken sigh escaping him, before lifting the top lid which hid the largest chamber of all. "All but these. The most powerful of them all: the Black Cat and the Ladybug."

Marinette took a moment to study the innocent-looking ring and pair of earrings before noticing the empty orange cavity. With a gasp of recognition, she hurriedly yanked the small box from her purse and opened it. Sure enough, the pendant inside matched the curled impression perfectly.

"You noticed my spot!" chimed a now familiar voice. Trixx flitted over and spun a few times before alighting on what they'd claimed was their spot, admiring how little it had changed. Wayzz quickly joined them.

Chuckling, the old man drew Marinette's attention back to him.

"Trixx is the first I've found since then. And a lucky thing that is, since they are perfect for this sort of thing."

"But what sort of thing is 'this'?" she asked, somewhat exasperated now.

The good humor left Fu's face. "'This' is a race against time. And against evil." Silence rang as the kwami focused back on the conversation. "The Butterfly has fallen into the hands of a cruel man, going by the name of Hawk Moth. He is after the other Miraculous, in order to have his wish granted. And to achieve that goal, he has taken to infecting people with his akuma, turning them into little more than puppets of his own design."

Marinette gasped. "That's impossible!"

...

The old man shot her a flat look and gestured towards the kwami.

Flushing, she clarified, "I mean it's not possible that's been happening. Not here. I'd have heard about it." She continued, a little desperate, "If a bunch of people were being possessed by some guy looking for magic jewelry, someone would be talking about it. At the very least, there'd be rumors about it at school."

He shrugged. "I know not why or how he has managed to keep his methods so secret, but the kwami cannot be mistaken. They can sense that Nooroo is awake and being misused right at this moment."

At the sad nods Trixx and Wayzz gave her, Marinette swallowed audibly. "Then… how do I fit into this? I can't even carry a box of pastries to school without destroying them, much less fight some super villain in hiding. I don't even know you! Why give Trixx to me?"

Fu smiled gently and led her back to their seats, letting them both get settled before continuing.

"I have been watching you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he admitted, cradling his tea. "And I have seen a girl with a wealth of courage, whom decides to help people before even considering what it would cost her."

"And quite a clever one at that!" Trixx chimed in. "Wayzz told us how you managed to cover your tracks earlier today. That was a good plan with the pastry tray and the phone." They zoomed into her face, eyes dancing and tail wagging. "You're exactly what I've been looking for in a wielder!"

Three pairs of eyes bore into her–one set cheerful and two sets cautious, but all were expectant. The room began to feel small and cramped, and Marinette clutched at her chest, trying to suck in air.

"I… I need so-some fresh air!"

She was out the door before anyone could respond.

-------

Marinette took deep, heaving breaths as she hugged her knees, trying to calm down. So long as she didn't think about anything, she'd be fine. Just don't think, just don't think, just. Don't. Think.

"You seem stressed."

"GAH!"

She tried to leap away from the voice, only to land in a heap on the ground. Trixx stared at her from their spot in the nearby shrubbery. Both human and kwami were silent for a moment before Marinette let out a miserable groan and pulled herself up into a sitting position.

Facing the fox's direction but keeping her eyes cast downward, she admitted, "I'm a little overwhelmed."

Trixx hummed. "Understandable. It's a lot to take in when one has been tasked with facing off against the forces of evil."

Marinette shot a look up at their blasé tone, but nothing in the kwami's face implied they were being anything but 100% sincere.

"It's… about more than that. Don't get me wrong! Running into this Hawkmoth guy sounds really REALLY terrifying. But mostly… I think you guys have the wrong girl."

"Oh?" they prompted.

"C'mon," Marinette groaned. "Look at me! I'm having a panic attack just from talking about this, there's no way I could actually be any help for real. That's the way I am with everything. Completely useless. Even when I work harder than anyone else, things just go from bad to worse."

The kwami tilted their head. "Is it that bad?"

"It is. I hate to admit it, but it really is," she laughed sadly. "I don't know how long you guys have been watching, but obviously it wasn't long enough. You haven't even come close to seeing the real me."

"…Perhaps so."

Marinette flinched and peered up with wet eyes.

"I guess that means I'll need to hang around to see this "real you" then!"

She gaped. "Wait, what?"

Trixx giggled and flitted in close, tapping her nose playfully. "You said it yourself: we haven't known each other long enough. So, we must rectify that. But first, let's get you home. It's quite late for young folks to be out alone."

And with that, they flew away down the street.

"Hey… hey wait!" Marinette scrambled to her feet and took off after them. "That's not what I meant!"

----------

Marinette groaned as she trudged after the lazily floating kwami. They had slowed down considerably once she had given up on trying to deny Trixx coming home with her.

"And you're sure that Fu won't mind us just taking off like that?"

"Mm, it'll be fine. Wayzz knows how I am, and he'll make sure Master Fu doesn't worry too much."

She sighed, though whether in relief or resignation, she wasn't sure. After a moment, she broached a topic that had been niggling at the back of her mind.

"Are you two close, then? Or is that just a kwami thing?"

Trixx paused and glanced back at her, a pleased smile inching up their face. "Noticed that, did you?" They turned back to continue forward, raising their voice a bit to carry. "Yes, Wayzz and I became quite close over the centuries. A bit hard not to, considering."

"Considering?"

"Well, after Nooroo and Duusu went missing, the Guardians were always leery of letting too many of us out. I'd go several decades without wielders before, but after that, I was hardly ever let out at all."

They chuckled, nostalgia clear in their voice.

"I remember hounding Wayzz for stories every time he got to rest between Guardians. He'd be exhausted and ready for a nap, but he'd always give in and tell me everything he could about the outside world. It became a good way to pass the time."

Marinette came forward, a tilt to her head. "Why?"

The fox 'hmm'ed at her, confused at the question.

"I mean, why didn't you get out as much? I don't know anything about your powers, but you really seem like you can handle anything that comes your way."

They chuckled, this time more energetically. "Ah. Well, that's as much to do with my wielders as with me. My powers are far less direct, requiring both forethought and adaptability. Naturally, I would want my wielders to slow down and think, and I'm afraid most people just don't have the patience for my methods."

"Oh."

"Now, don't be discouraged! I wouldn't have chosen you if I didn't think you and I would work well together."

"Oh! Oh no, it wasn't anything like that," she assured. "I was just thinking it seems–" Lonely. "–a shame. I think it'd be really nice to stop for a moment and consider your options before leaping headfirst into things. I wish more people would let me do that."

"Hm. Well, thank you. It's always refreshing to hear that sort of thing."

Marinette wanted to say something more, but then she caught sight of her house, with her father standing on the doorstep.

Without prompting, Trixx flew into her purse to hide, and Marinette steeled herself before marching forward to face her no doubt furious parents.

----------

After half an hour of bearing with her parents' lectures (interrupted every five minutes with relieved, bone-crushing hugs), Marinette was finally able to escape to her room.

She took a moment to usher her kwami hitchhiker out of her purse before flinging it and her blazer onto her chaise lounge. She wasted no time afterwards changing into pajamas and climbing up to her bed.

Trixx 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed as they wandered around her room, finally taking it in now that she wasn't trying to throw things at them.

She wanted so badly to just close her eyes and go straight to sleep, but Fu's voice kept repeating over and over in her head.

"Hey, Trixx?" she called quietly.

The fox flew up to the loft and settled on her bed. "Yes, Marinette?"

"What did he–What did Fu mean by Hawkmoth infecting people?"

"Ah." At the question, Trixx deflated. "Well, when a Butterfly wielder is strong enough, they can imbue people with a strong power befitting their desires. Hawkmoth is obviously strong enough to have done that several times now."

The fox shook their little head in upset. "The problem is that when Hawkmoth is doing so, he makes sure that the person is affected by strong, negative emotions. It corrupts their desires into something malevolent, making them willing to hurt anyone that gets in the way of achieving theirs–and therefore Hawkmoth's–goals."

"That's so messed up!" Marinette cried out. "Are they stuck like that forever?"

"Oh no, Hawkmoth has to release them after a while. Drains his power, otherwise. But the things they did while under his influence remain."

She hugged a pillow tight against her. "So… if they hurt someone…"

"All damage remains," Trixx affirmed. "To things and to people. There's a couple of Miraculous that can fix damage, but they're all missing, so…" they shrugged.

Marinette shot up in bed and scowled at the kwami. "Then what can we do?"

"We can find the others. We can find the other Miraculous, and we can find wielders for them–and then we can find Hawkmoth." A tension began to fill the room as the fox's voice grew stronger. "And when we find him, we can rescue Nooroo too. And stop Hawkmoth for good."

Trixx floated up to hover in front of her, purple eyes staring deep into hers.

"There are a great many things we can do, Marinette. But only you can decide if we will."

Marinette turned to gaze down at her open palms, considering. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her old class photos. Kim and Juleka, Max and Rose–they'd been in the same class together for years now.

Her eyes moved to her phone and turned it on to look at her new lock screen. She'd just met Alya, but she already felt like she'd known her her whole life.

And then she looked at Trixx. Patient, friendly Trixx, who let her talk and answered all her questions and wasn't put off even when she admitted she would be useless. Who was passed over countless times for centuries but still seemed so sure they would be up to the task.

Her hands curled into fists and her brow furrowed, she nodded to herself before focusing back on Trixx.

"I don't know if I can really be any help," Marinette started, voice steady, "but I will try."

A delighted smile stretched wide across Trixx's face. "I knew you'd be up for it! Oh, don't worry, Marinette, you are going to be an amazing Fox!"

She laughed as the kwami continued to effuse about her future as the Fox hero, excitedly twirling around her room at ridiculous speeds.

Suddenly overtaken by exhaustion, she slumped back onto her pillows and let her eyes drift shut, a small smile on her own face.

Maybe this would turn out okay.

[chopper-witch]

Cost of Creation: The Origin (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Other characters: Frigga, your parents

Locations: This town I made up :) Völuspá (in Asgard)

Things/words to know: 

In this nonsense of lore since the MCU has none, seiðr is obviously still a thing but the first person in Asgard to use it (and one of Asgard’s founders since we know nothing I can do what I want) was Seiðrine. All of her descendants are born with a connection to seiðr automatically and each receive a different gift/ enhancement.

For aging since we know nothing, I’m making them age the initial 18 years in 50 (so 50 equates to 18) and then they age slow as shit. 

Völuspá is the first poem in the Poetic Edda and basically is about a völva (seeress) telling Odin about the world’s creation and end. So I used it as the name of sacred grounds of Asgard.

Lopt means sky

Vatn means lake

Eiðr means oath

Veleda is what germanic tribes referred to as a highly respected seeress

Word Count: 1,286 (it’s short, I know)

Summary: The first time Loki and you meet at age 17 (about human 6).

A/N: Pretend your parents have other names (in this case their names are Lifa and Mikkel). As usual all mistakes are mine. :)

CoC masterlist 

___________

Völuspá is the most serene place on Asgard. As soon as one foot steps within its boundaries everything seems to shift and change. It’s practically all meadow with a lone large Yggdrasil tree in the very center of the actual village, a forest to the far opposite end of where most people enter and several different gardens throughout the village. 

Loki has spent most of his life either on the palace grounds or the occasional stop somewhere else his mother took him. He’d never been this far beyond the main city before and it has him in awe. Between the complete freedom of the plants and their overgrowth to the overwhelming openness of it all, Loki has never seen someplace so small that seems so large.

Völuspá also has norms that nowhere else in Asgard has. Both men and women in pants (some of them in lengths most definitely not allowed in the palace) paired with plain shirts, near everyone in ankle boots or fitted shoes instead of knee high boots, and not a single guard or patrol guard in sight. So Loki takes it all in, nearly tripping several times as they walk through the uneven ground. 

“So am I learning today?” Loki asks Frigga. 

Frigga looks down to her younger son. “Not today. Today we are going to find a good friend of mine who will help us.” 

He nods in response and returns to taking in the scenery. 

The pair approach an old building, one older than any other Loki has seen. It is no more than a story high, gray brick stacked carefully to create an immensely smoother exterior invaded only by the vines appearing to strangle it, various colors of alliums a bright contrast to the dark green of the vines and their leaves. Only one place is devoid of all the overgrowth: the open entrance. There the vines seem to grow into the building, following the small entranceway rather than knotting over it like what normally happens to overgrown buildings. Babbling of water is bouncing around the inside and echoing its way outside.

Inside is a surprise compared to the tame and broken outside. 

There is a large fountain as soon as they enter with a statue of two figures he does not recognize in the center, water trickling down every curve of it. The vines follow them inside, devoid of flowers this time but spreading out along the open roof as a natural canopy, the sunlight filtering in with specks of dust, maybe plants, falling with it. Spreading out from the center room are seven different hallways, each with a marker above them in a language Loki does not recognize. 

“This is a temple so we must be respectful. Stay by the fountain, I will be right back.”

“I will.” 

Frigga walks off to the hallway on the left side, the second closest to the pair. The symbol glows green as she walks through the doorway and fades back to match the same gray tone as the rest of the building when she is far enough into the hallway. The young prince’s eyes widen in awe.

But his attention turns back to the fountain. The same brick gray of the rest of the building but smoother than marble. He leans onto the brick edge to look at the water’s surface more closely. Besides the lotus flowers floating around the water is completely smooth like perfectly refined glass. 

The noise of people entering pulled your attention away from the book your father gave you to distract you from bothering while he was working on something. So you set it down and begin to creep along the walls of the hallway, interested in who is here. Your parents have told you on an enumerable of occasions that you were not to bother those you do not know who enter the temple. Only once did you actually follow that rule and it was because they left before you could get there. 

So you step out of the center hall into the soft light of the entrance, the sunlight filtering through the vines above. Across the fountain stands another person around your age but in clothes not worn around Völuspá. Someone visiting most likely, the perfect target for a little prank. So you lean forward in a similar fashion while he is still distracted, right pointer finger tapping the water. 

Loki’s eyes watch in awe as the water comes rippling towards him. It grows the closer it gets going from a small drop to a tiny wave as the water moves from your side to his, peaking just in front of him in a wall as a clear as glass. Loki pushes back and furrows his brow. He can’t quite figure out how the water has changed into such a solid looking shape. So his fingers touch it to see if it really has changed to glass. It’s smooth as glass but still liquid. 

Then it crashes. The prince jumps back to avoid the splash. 

“I’m (y/n), what’s your name?” You ask, swirling your finger around in the water more, eyes watching the boy.

He looks up from the puddle and to you. “Loki,” he replies and begins to walk towards you, choosing to move to his right. 

You had push yourself off the ledge a bit, standing back up right. “Oh, you are one of the princes!” 

Loki stops in front of you. From this angle you can see him better, dark near black hair and eyes that match the lopt lilies in the Eidr lake. He can see you better as well, donned in plain black pants that stop halfway down your shin, a loose black shirt and floral vested jacket that he would call a blouse if it weren’t such a stiff material, buttoned unevenly with an extra button on the lower left and an extra slot on the upper right.

“Yes, I am the younger prince.” 

“Why are you here?” You demand.

Loki tilts his head. Though he is young, people rarely spoke to him with such a tone unless it was his parents or occasionally an instructor. 

“(y/n), what did I tell you about bothering those you do not know!” Your father chastises as he walked in from the hallway you previously came down.

You spin towards him and lean back against the fountain. A grin spreads upon your face, eyes sparkling with mischief. “To not do it.”

“And what are you doing?”

Loki takes in his appearance as well. Outfit even more plain than yours but all in a deep green color. 

“Talking to someone I do know. I just introduced myself and therefore I am not bothering someone I do not know.”

Your father sighs with a smile and kneels. “Twisting words already. I fear the day your vocabulary reaches the same as your cousin’s.” His right hand cups your cheek gently, thumb tracing the skin carefully. “Alright little veleda, introduce me to your new friend.” 

“His name is -”

“Loki, I told you not to wander off,” Frigga hisses in the same tone as your father just reprimanded you in. 

He turns to face his mother as she comes from around the same side as he did. “But I didn’t. I’m still in the same room.” 

Frigga sighs in a similar as your father to your response. Both tired parents exhausted with their child’s young snark.

“Loki, this is my friend Lífa. She is going to help us start your training with seiðr.” Her eyes flit behind her son. “And I see you already met her daughter and her father.” 

Loki looks over his shoulder to you. He watches as your grin only gets wider. It seems the two of you are going to be seeing each other often.

Next

--

Taglist: 

@krystallynx

[sparklyjojos]

I’ve finished reading The World is Made out of Closed Rooms a few weeks ago, but didn’t really feel like talking about it. Which should already tell you that yeah, uh, this wasn’t the best Maijo I’ve read. Sure, there are some interesting meta tidbits here and there that I’ll write more about later, and it has some really good parts (as well as some infuriating ones), but mostly it was... eh. I’ve been told it’s important to know this before reading Disco Detective Wednesday, though. So here’s a summary, just to get this out.

(tw: suicide, sibling death, dysfunctional family, an obnoxious case of Dead Lesbians, mentions of nazi violence and antisemitism)

--

The narrator is Nishimura Yukio, a boy who lives next to the Banba family and is good friends with Banba “Runbaba” Junjirou. They knew each other since they were kids. When Yukio was thirteen and Runbaba twelve, they witnessed Runbaba’s 19-year-old sister Ryouko fall from the family house’s roof onto the concrete below, and the grave injuries caused her death a few days afterwards. The boys had actually been on the very same roof at the time, but couldn’t do anything to stop her. They weren’t even sure whether it was suicide or an accident.

After her death, Runbaba closed himself in his room for a few days, and because of stress developed a nasty psychogenic rash that soon landed him in the hospital. (And it served for a lot of juvenile gross out humor which I really didn’t like.) Only after he was discharged, it really hit him that his sister was dead.

Ryouko had always been smart but withdrawn, and used to run away from home a lot, walking wherever her feet took her, often to distant prefectures. (’Everything’s better than staying home,’ Runbaba said once after he and Yukio met her on her way out of town. The book never really states outright what’s happening in the Banba family, but it’s obvious that something’s off). This caused their father, Banba Kouji, to fit iron bars in her room’s windows, but it still didn’t stop her from getting on the roof that fateful day. As Runbaba and Yukio investigated her room, they found a hidden hole in the wall leading to the adjacent room - the father’s study, from which one could go up on the rooftop. They also found a lifesize doll that Ryouko probably wanted to put in her bed to hide her absence.

Up on the rooftop, Runbaba realized what had killed Ryouko: a power line running close to the roof, which in places lacked protective coating. Back on the ground, they found a discarded fishing rod that belonged to the family’s father, and they remembered that Ryouko had been holding something long when they saw her on the roof. She must have tried to use the rod to swing herself on the power line to escape, but tragically chose the wrong place to do so.

She hadn’t wanted to die; in fact, it was her burning will to live that led her to attempt to escape the locked room her father made, again and again and again.

---

A few years later, when Yukio was 15, the boys went on a school trip to Tokyo. When during free time Yukio was away from the group, he witnessed a fight between a woman and a man which quickly turned physical, and developed into the woman mercilessly beating up the man. Yukio tried to stop the fight, but it only resulted in the woman hitting him on reflex. While Yukio was dazed, the scared woman took him in her car to her house in Urawa, Saitama Prefecture to look after him. Which was a weird way to act, but it seemed the woman was just this kind of a weird person.

Her name was Inoue Tsubaki, and she had a younger sister Enoki. They lived alone ever since their parents died in an accident. The man Tsubaki beat up earlier was her boss Taniguchi Tooru with whom they had a fling behind the back of Taniguchi’s wife Marie. [Lore note: Taniguchi Tooru was the name of one of the Angel Bunnies in Tsukumojuku, namely one of the two “murderers” in the Seventh Story]. Obviously their relationship was pretty much over.

Tsubaki spent some time babbling about all her life problems before Yukio managed to convince her to arrange him a ride back to Tokyo. On the way he met Tsubaki’s younger sister, Enoki, and they mainly talked about how Tsubaki was a weird person. Yukio came back to the hotel in Tokyo that his school group stayed in. As it turned out, Runbaba had been so worried about him that he actually detectived his way after Yukio all the way to the Inoue sisters’ house, and also fell victim to their weird hospitality. He returned to the hotel later, just like Yukio having mixed feelings about the sisters, but in the end they ended up keeping in touch with them.

---

One day Yukio got a call from distressed Enoki, who said she and Tsubaki had to flee their home in fear of Taniguchi Tooru coming after them, and they were headed for Nishi Akatsuki. Yukio immediately brought that news to Runbaba, who suspected a link to a case that happened four days prior. A certain Taniguchi Marie and her young sons Kento and Kanji had been stabbed to death, and their bodies were then dragged all around the house for unkown reasons. Two remaining members of the family went missing: Marie’s husband, Taniguchi Tooru; and Marie’s unborn third child, who had been cut out of her stomach and taken away. That baby’s name was Saburou.

[Lore note: this Saburou’s name kanji are 三朗, slightly different from Natsukawa Saburou’s 三郎. Both are common names for a third son, so this may be just a coincidence... or is it?]

Before Runbaba took a closer look at the Taniguchi case, he took some time to close the previous serial murderer case he’d just solved. Runbaba figured out that in every crime the victims’ bodies were arranged to form a mitate of one of four paintings of Edward Hopper: Cape Cod Morning, Morning in a City, Morning Sun, and Nighthawks. [Runbaba briefly explains what mitate is in a way very similar to Tsukumojuku’s explanations - “you know, like the design of Japanese gardens where a pond represents the sea, and a stone is a mountain?”]. All of the “paintings” could be seen from outside the crime scene through a window, and Runbaba believed the serial killer would live somewhere from where he could safely observe the first scene, likely the next building over. He instructed the police to investigate the man living there, Sugawara Yuu.

Back to the Taniguchi case. Runbaba considered many possibilities as to why the bodies had been moved back and forth through the house - was the culprit scared of what he’d done and tried to help them, or did he want to draw a giant symbol with blood, or did he need the combined weight of the three bodies for something (At one point Runbaba voiced the option that maybe the culprit had wanted to use them instead of a pickle stone, and at this point even Yukio’s like, dude, be serious, and Runbaba’s like But I am serious! Detectives, man).

---

Since they couldn’t solve anything by just sitting around, the boys caught a train to meet the Inoue girls halfway. They successfully found Enoki, who told them that because of a fight with her sister they sat in different compartments, and Tsubaki would probably show up soon. As it turned out, Enoki hadn’t known anything about the Taniguchi murder case; the sister fled home because of Taniguchi Tooru’s stalking, which had been going on for over two weeks.

They noticed Tsubaki in the crowd, but she seemed to avoid them, and it took them a good while of trailing her to find out the reason: Tsubaki had taken a tiny baby with her on the train and kept it a secret even from Enoki. That baby was little Saburou. Tsubaki had been in the Taniguchi house on the day of the murder, and managed to at least save the baby. Runbaba and Tsubaki went to a hospital to check if the baby’s alright (it was perfectly healthy), pass it to the police, then take steps to make sure the sisters’ house is safe. Meanwhile, Yukio and Enoki stayed at a hotel.

Then there’s a weird part in which we learn the content of a video tape, allegedly made by Taniguchi. It’s a short stop-motion movie, but done with the corpses of the Taniguchi family, moving around the house as if they were alive. (It’s described as “Pingu, but with corpses” Thanks for that visual, Maijo.) At one point in the movie Tsubaki appears at the front door, falls down [I guess she was knocked out?] and also gets to “star” in the animation. The plot of it follows Tsubaki coming clear to Marie about her affair with Tooru, and while Marie at first seems to take it in stride, she and the kids end up mercilessly beating Tsubaki, the end. I’m calling this part weird because after reading the entire book I can’t for my life figure out who made it and why and I feel like I’ve missed something.

---

Runbaba called Yukio soon after, informing him that Taniguchi Tooru had been found dead in the girls’ house, and that it seemed to have been either suicide or a locked room murder. Judging by the clues, Taniguchi got stabbed (stabbed himself?) with a knife in the kitchen, then moved to the dining room, and he or someone else moved the furniture and closed the door and windows. Then Taniguchi (or someone else?) removed the knife, cut his own carotid artery and bled to death. Next to the body there was a single symbol written in blood, あ [hiragana for “a”].

Once Yukio and Enoki joined them at the scene, Runbaba explained a few more things he had figured out. First: the investigation found undisputable pieces of evidence that the murderer of Taniguchi Marie, Kento and Kanji was actually Taniguchi Marie herself. Second: that case was probably what you call a “forced double suicide”, as his family’s death maybe pushed Taniguchi Tooru to commit suicide as well. (So there’s no trick to this locked room; it was just suicide.) Although it’s possible that he really got stabbed by someone else who ran away, and only then he went into the dining room, made the locked room, and finished himself off. But who would stab him?

Enoki pointed out that  あ was a symbol Tsubaki had used to secretly mark the dates she was to meet with Taniguchi back when they had been dating. But Tsubaki was with Runbaba at the time of the crime, so she had an alibi. Then Enoki realized that there was another lover Tsubaki had nowadays, Koizumi Mitsuo, who was similar in looks to Tsubaki and used the same perfume, so it’s probable that in the dark of the night Taniguchi mistook Koizumi for Tsubaki, so he felt heart-broken when she stabbed him in protection / anger about him stalking Tsubaki.

She, because yep, Koizumi was Tsubaki’s girlfriend. Tsubaki’s bisexual, which the boys apparently had known about all this time but didn’t share with the reader for some reason. They had a short conversation about this with Enoki. Runbaba at one point said that he didn’t think there were any gay people in Nishi Akatsuki or at least in his school year [Hey, uh, Runbaba? Buddy? Pal? I’m sorry to break it to you, but if you’re seriously this ignorant about society, that just shows you’re not a very good detective]. At least Enoki countered it saying that this sounds very strange, since it’s something that a certain percentage of people are regardless of the situation, you know!

[Even with Runbaba’s comment and Yukio’s overall I’m-a-teenage-boy-as-straight-as-a-board narration, at this point I was pretty happy that we got a confirmed bisexual character and her girlfriend...]

---

[...and then the very next scene had both Koizumi and Tsubaki dying horribly because Koizumi attacked the police car escorting Tsubaki (since she had saved little Saburou the media was bothering her) and set it on fire and both women burned to death.

God, I can’t believe how blatant the Dead Lesbians trope is in this book. It takes place just PAGES after they were confirmed to be wlw, and without any fucking narrative reasoning as for why it even happened. Like, sure, we’re told that the last email from Tsubaki to Koizumi was basically “I just realized what’s precious to me in life and I’m breaking out with you, bye” so I guess this was supposed to be revenge/”if I can’t have you no one will” on Koizumi’s part, but... really, Maijo? Really? You wrote so many fucking pages about Yukio thinking very Straight Teenage Boy thoughts and expected me to relate to them and then you pull THIS shit off?!

So yeah, this is the moment when this book absolutely plummetted for me and never quite recovered.]

---

After Tsubaki’s death [grrr...], Enoki came to Nishi Akatsuki to live with Yukio’s family. When Yukio and Runbaba were high school seniors, they investigated another case. This one involved a set of four weird square buildings in the mountains of Nishi Akatsuki, built next to each other like this (white rectangles are windows, black ones are doors):

Inside each building were a few several weeks old corpses, coming up to a total of 14 between the four locked rooms (very locked, since the boys had come here before the police, so nobody had went inside yet). Some of the bodies were arranged in weird scenes that Runbaba recognized as something like a very morbid 4koma. From bottom right clockwise: there once was a rich guy, there once was a woman, they fell in love, and finally had a violent falling out:

There’s one more corpse lying outside between the buildings, and Runbaba assessed that the man had somehow died of hunger. Runbaba also noticed that the crosses in one of the rooms [upper right in the picture] were taken from what looked like a very old cemetery in the forest. Then he climbed on top of one of the buildings, found the murder weapon - a knife, now stuck in a tree trunk high above the ground - and found a way to open a hole in the roof, which must have been how the murderer got outside after locking the door and window.

Runbaba explained the case to Yukio. The murderer was Sugawara Yuu, the same man who had arranged the Edward Hopper-inspired “paintings”... and the same man who died of hunger between the buildings. Sugawara hadn’t made or owned the buildings, he just found and used them for his fucked up art expression. This time he didn’t base it off of someone else’s paintings, though, but off of his original work. [Runbaba has an interesting opinion that this shift from merely imitating others to expressing oneself may be how people can  “grow up” / achieve “growth”.] One of Sugawara’s paintings (actual paintings, not crime scenes) had a similar layout, but portrayed stages of life. Clockwise from top left: 1) birth/childhood, 2) inevitable conflict with parents when growing up, 3) reconcillation with parents when one’s at the peak of one growth, 4) formation of a new family.

Runbaba then explained that the nearby old cemetary was likely a remainder of the chaos that had swept through Nishi Akatsuki around WWII. Back then, a lot of Jewish people came to the village to live in hiding [as we may remember from Smoke, Soil and Sacrifices which talked about it briefly in context of Hans Natsukawa], but unfortunately they were followed by the Germans, which resulted in a great deal of violence. Runbaba didn’t know which side the graves belonged to, but somebody, likely the caretaker of the mountain, was still leaving flowers on them. [I’d say it’s obvious which side these graves belong to considering the crosses and flowers. Then again, as fucked up as it is, ignorant gentiles sometimes do put crosses on old Jewish graves because they consider a cross to be a general symbol of death (no it isn’t, PLEASE don’t do that), so I guess this isn’t completely out of question if the mountain’s owner’s ignorant enough. ...Or it’s just Runbaba who’s very ignorant about yet another thing. HOW are you even a detective, dude. Just how.]

The four buildings were also connected to that bloody past; they may have been interrogation and torture rooms, or a small prison, or something like that. Runbaba pointed out that each roof had what looked like a giant kanji 王 - lord / king, maybe referring to God? [or if we go for meta interpretation, the first kanji of “Otaro”?...]. You could opening the triangular sections of the roof, as shown here (that stickman in the middle is the murderer’s body):

Then Runbaba demonstrated that pressing a hidden switch on the wall allowed the buildings to be rotated. Rotating the four buildings so their corners touched, and then opening all the roofs parts so the pieces of the 王 kanji touched each other, would put those pieces together in an entirely different symbol - the swastika.

[...yeah. Uh. Alright. I’m uncomfortable. I am VERY uncomfortable. More so because I remember the hidden purpose of the triangle warehouse from Smoke, Soil and Sacrifices, and the fact this new set of buildings is clearly meant to be similar to the warehouse (or even inspired by it, if you consider the meta theory that Closed Rooms may have been written by Natsukawa Saburou) is, uhhhhhhh... I don’t like this one bit. So while I know I should probably post the next picture so people can better visualize how the buildings and the roof tiles move, I’m not putting swastikas my blog, no sir.]

Anyway... this rotation maneuver made the walls of the buildings touch each other so that a fifth locked room was formed inside, and that’s where the criminal, Sugawara, was closed in by someone after the murders. After Sugawara starved to death, that mysterious someone set the rooms back to their original positions as if nothing happened. Who was that person? Maybe the same one who left flowers on the graves. Runbaba decided he’d need to talk with the mountain’s owner - Mr. Natsukawa (!) - to figure out if he didn’t have anything to do with it.

But nothing came out of the investigation, and in the end, while the case was technically solved, Sugawara’s murderer was never found.

---

Eventually, Yukio and Runbaba graduated high school. Runbaba wanted to keep on being a detective and didn’t consider going to college, which his father was upset about. Things escalated and Runbaba’s father just like years before put security bars in his kid’s windows, to make him “focus on learning for the entrance exams”. Runbaba stayed home, and slowly Yukio lost contact with him.

Yukio couldn’t quite understand why someone as smart as the great detective Runbaba 12, who could solve difficult locked rooms cases left and right, would be so helpless against the locked room made by his family.

Eventually, Yukio went to the Banba house, and got into an argument with Runbaba’s parents about how their son wasn’t a child anymore and that he’d have no problems being self-reliant as a detective. When all arguments failed, Yukio yelled that Runbaba’s father would only drive his son to death, just like it had been the case with his daughter Ryouko. The father answered that well, not really, because there’s a difference between Runbaba and Ryouko, and it’s that Runbaba is not an idiot. That line made Yukio snap, punch the dude in the face and yell about how Ryouko was a good kid, that her parents never even tried to help her, and that the only complete idiots here were them, and then he stormed off back to his house leaving the completely shocked couple behind.

Later, Enoki - who apparently had been regularly sneaking up on the roof near Runbaba’s window and talking with him for days now - commended Yukio for his verbal throwdown, and according to her Runbaba was pretty amazed too. (Also, Yukio starts thinking the two are dating because he misinterpreted Enoki giving a cute encouraging forehead kiss to Runbaba for romantic interest or something.)

The iron bars disappeared from the windows after that. Maybe a month later, on the anniversary of Ryouko’s death, Yukio saw Runbaba standing on the roof, in the very same spot Ryouko had been standing that tragic day seven years prior, and burning pieces of paper. Terrified that Runbaba was about to either jump to his death, or set the house on fire, Yukio told Enoki to bring help and then got on the roof himself. He asked what Runbaba was thinking about (”about Ryouko”) and what were the papers he was burning (”Locked rooms. Ideas for them.” He came up with fifteen different ones, apparently.). Yukio said that burning them was a waste of ideas (”Maybe I could write a book using them?” “Hey, don’t steal my ideas! Come up with your own.”). Runbaba finally admitted that they were ideas on how to kill his parents, and Yukio agreed that yeah, maybe it’s better for these to burn.

At this point some people Enoki had alarmed gathered in front of the house - Yukio’s parents, random neighbours, though not Runbaba’s parents, as they had gone to visit Ryouko’s grave - and pleaded with Runbaba to come down, but he didn’t listen.

Finally Runbaba said, “Yukio? Go back alone. I’m going to fly now.”

[Okay, I have to give the novel credit: this entire finale is really great at keeping up a great amount of tension even through their seemingly relaxed conversation. At this point I was legitimately worried.]

Runbaba then opened the secret passage Ryouko had once used, retrieved two items -- the life-sized doll Ryouko had made, and a crowbar -- then suddenly broke into a run and jumped off the roof. The gathered people screamed in terror, but soon realized that what hit the ground was just a doll, and the real Runbaba had hooked the crowbar onto the edge of the roof to keep himself from falling. Apparently Ryouko had had a similar idea seven years prior -- to just pretend like she’s falling to scare her parents, but really just swinging herself on the power line.

Yukio helped Runbaba get back on the roof and was like “so it’s fine, right? you’re coming back down now?”, but Runbaba only got very quiet. So Yukio told him that there was indeed a difference between him and Ryouko - and it was that Runbaba had people who were more than ready to help him. To prove this, he climbed back to the ground and asked everyone to bring their mattresses and pillows. Soon a giant pile had accumulated in front of the Banba house.

“Let’s go!” Yukio yelled. “Fly, Runbaba!”

“Let’s go!” Runbaba yelled back, and unexpectedly continued, “The reason-- the reason why I’m calling myself Runbaba 12-- it’s because Ryouko died when I was twelve, and it’s like a part of me got stuck back then--!”

“Hey, hey, no self-psychoanalysis now, just fly!”

“That’s anticlimactic!” Runbaba argued, but jumped, and landed perfectly safely on the pile of mattresses. He was fine, but cried a lot afterwards, and apologized a lot to Ryouko for not helping her all those years ago. When his parents came back, he also punched his dad, “for Ryou-chan”, and the dad endured it without a word. And everyone lived happily ever after.

--

[To sum up, this book actually had a really tense and heartwarming and sad and even funny at places finale that I liked. If you took just the Banba family conflict plotline and put it together as a short story, I’d probably love it. I’d even tolerate the deluge of immature humor because yeah, I get it, the protagonists are teenage boys, and Yukio is quite self-aware that his main method of trying to defuse tension is to say stupid jokes and hope they stick. But then the middle of the book ranged anywhere from “eh, it’s fine” to “oh fuck OFF Maijo”, and I mostly enjoyed what few meta references were there.]