#i guess i used to just pick stuff up at the library or find books for my list there

[amphiptere]

funny how for paper books, 500 pages is no problem. but apparently I’ve gotten so used to 10h audiobooks that I cannot remember how to read anything much longer.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 4)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 3, Part 5

summary: You get your laptop fixed... eventually.

warnings: smut!! (finally lmfao) masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of voyeurism, recreational drug use, dry humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: caught up to where the og oneshot ends so i wanted to switch it up!!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.8k (still in shock i wrote all this lmfao, i'm strictly a <4k words kinda gal)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

lips black and blue and gold.

You're frustrated. Bouncing off the walls, head spinning; and it's for a couple of reasons. 

First off: you haven't managed to find a laptop. Money you've worked damn hard for, and you can't really afford a new one. With moving around, you've burnt through quite a bit of your emergency fund. Enough to convince yourself you'll be just fine with a pen and paper in class, and the Google docs on your phone when desperate. It might actually force you to go to the library instead of half assing assignments the night before, you think. 

And there's your lab book, which you were smart enough to back up on your computer, but guess what? That's fucked; probably taken apart and sold for scraps by Miguel's mysterious friend , who you've conveniently never even heard of and–

"Just ask for an extension." He says, feet up on the sofa. Oddly enough, you've been doing that more often; spending time together. He's not holed up in his room as much, and spends time studying on the dining table, or pretending not to watch the soaps you've got on TV. 

"You're overthinking it. Explain the situation, chula, and it'll be fine." He doesn't even look up, just throws the statement in your direction like the lazy pass of a ball. 

You scoff, because he's right, and go back to overthinking. You think you can copy out the ruined half of your labbook by hand, and if you beg your OChem teacher for an extra credit project then–

"If I let you use my laptop, will you stop doing that?" 

"Doing what?" You frown as he walks over, and reaches to gently pull your hands apart. He turns your palms over, pointing at the raw edges of your fingernails. 

" That. " Mindlessly, you'd been picking at your fingernails, without even noticing. Looking up at him, he rolls his eyes. 

"...is that a yes?" You nod, hesitant, and catch the hint of a smile as he pads off to his room. 

When he returns, open laptop in hand, he thrusts it into your arms - and sits himself back onto the sofa. This time, he splays out facing you, avocado socks resting on your knee. You fight the urge to push him off, a small price to pay in return for his moment of kindness. He's been doing that more often now, slightly more touchy and maybe even… comfortable around you. Eyes flickering up towards him, you catch his. His brows knead together, and you return your attention to the screen just as quickly. 

You're going through the motions, more or less, logging into your college's portal and drafting up quick emails to send to your lecturers. But it's when you open up a new tab, that you see something at the top of the screen and pause. Mouse hovering over an incognito tab, hidden in a nest of referencing websites and scientific journals; it's there. Bold letters, in all caps: WOMAN POUNDED BY BIG BEEFY–

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. Once again, you look up at Miguel, and he couldn't care less; tapping away at his phone, only stopping to look at the TV. Nevertheless, you shift to hide the laptop screen from him. But you're not going to look, or anything. You know better than to take a look at your roommates porn habits, the stuff he drools over whilst he fucks his fist; a big, dextrous palm wrapped around his shaft. 

You've done it. Clicked on the tab and nothing's exploded, as of yet. You turn down the brightness, with some shame, as if to make the paused video less explicit. But the image stays, a woman folded under the weight of the man above – in the middle of bullying his fat cock into her pussy. It's amateur; hot and sweaty and sticky, with only the woman fully visible. You suppose your curiosity's been sated, but you can't help but think…

…the woman. She looks like you. 

Tilting your head, you can't help but see the resemblance. Not the exact same of course - but her hair is similar, body type, skin tone, eyes. It's not close enough to be weird, you guess, but it's enough that that thought stays - burrows into you like an earthworm into an apple. Scrolling down, you see other videos, with the same woman, other women that look like you - the telltale red bar of watched videos. Evidence, but not really, and it makes you heat up. Your mouth goes dry, and you look over to him: only able to concentrate on the hand he's got spread out at his belly, the brown flesh peeking out - and how it looks just like the one on the base of the woman's stomach in the video. 

"...everything ok?" He's looking at you, suddenly; and you attempt to click over to your original tab, discreetly. 

He doesn't seem to notice, padding over to your side and leaning into your shoulder. 

"Yeah, no, I just…" All you can manage is a nervous smile. "The screen froze, so…"

"Oh." He gives the track pad a swipe. "Seems fine to m–" 

He freezes up slightly, and you watch as his eyes flick up the screen. The laptop is eased out of your hands, and he gives a few quick clicks. By the time it's back in your lap, the offending tab is gone. Imperceptible, his jaw shifts. 

"...Should be okay now."

You hum, a little amused at the display. He's seemingly unfazed, his little slip up notwithstanding, and leans back to lie up against you. Obnoxious, he splays onto the sofa cushions, his weight practically smothering you as you fight to push him off. You think he likes it – it's the only possible explanation – and gets off from watching you squirm. He seems desperate for a reaction, a child pushing boundaries and pressing buttons to see what exactly makes you tick. 

And that's the second thing: it works . He's  more touchy, and just as insufferable – jumping at any excuse to be near you, it seems. Miguel has a tendency to hover, follow you around the apartment as you talk aimlessly, and you do the same. You sit by against the doorway to the kitchen whilst he makes dinner; he floats around the door to your room when you try to study. In fact, you've spoken to your roommate more in the past week than you have in the past month; about anything and everything. Sometimes, he actually tells you where he goes during the day; off to lectures of his own, another tutoring session or his basically-an-unpaid-job of an internship. In your words, it seems like with the shit they make him do at Alchemex, he may as well be a full employee: with way fewer perks and a distinct paycut. It's almost as if they're paying for my degree, he says with an eye roll, practically hanging off your door frame. 

He does that a lot, now: arms drawn upwards to lean from the oak trim. Especially during lazy mornings in - he'll hang on the frame, and move to tug at your heel, waking you up despite fervent protest. Ultimately, it's a kindness and you don't know how to tell him how much you appreciate it; as he wakes you up on time to get to the library in good stead. You're still waiting on that laptop, debating whether or not to bite the bullet; but for now Miguel obliges, letting you borrow his now and then. 

He's not nice, you think his tongue is much too sharp for that; but he is kind, giving you some grace you're not too sure you deserve. It's more than what you've been given in a relationship of 4 years, and you don't know how to feel about it. 

Well, you do. Your talk on the living room floor not so long ago flipped a switch and all of a sudden you're paying attention to your roommate; really, really looking at him. He is very, very pretty; with a tendency for lingering touches disguised as something else. And you're out of practice: horny, frustrated, stressed. With the way he touches you; a hand on your back to greet you, a squeeze of your shoulder to tease, bare legs across yours on the sofa; it's a lethal combo. 

And here you are, headphones on, prepping to take a dildo. Incredibly self-indulgent, but you need it . You don't quite have the emotional stability for a one night stand (you think if someone touches you just right, you'll fall in love), but this dry spell has taken its toll. 

It wasn't just after the break up, either. Mismatched libidos had felt like a steady death knoll. Realistically, you knew Jaime was always too tired after a placement, but it didn't make you feel wanted. You just want to be desirable and fucked within an inch of your life – was that too much to ask? 

As a result, your toy drawer had grown: vibrators and dildos, clit-suckers and g-spot strokers; crude once said aloud, but all in search of something. With the stress of school and Miguel, Schrodinger's slut ; it's a wonder you haven't cracked it open earlier. 

You're on the floor, its purple base suctioned to the hardwood and towels to cushion your knees. Lower half completely exposed, it's an art , porn on your phone to complete the visage. The screen is smaller than that of the laptop you're used to, only providing some stimulation. And so, as you sink down on its silicone length, you can't help but think back to the sofa - and the videos squirrelled away on an incognito tab. Miguel, hunched over and fisting his cock to someone that looks like you; maybe even thinking of you – although the jury's still out, on that one. 

But you keep it close to your chest, rub your clit to the thought of it: you're his type, and maybe he'd fuck into you like the man on your screen. Broad, gorgeous shoulders and you wonder how pretty he'd look with scratches littered down his back, or hickeys sucked into skin: lips plump and messy and swollen. 

"Oh, fuck," You say it under your breath, knowing that whilst Miguel is out of the house, it still feels odd to put your lips around the pleasure that thinking of him gives. 

You speed up, the slap of thighs ringing out into your bedroom. The dildo is around 6 inches, sizeable; but you can't help but wonder how it compares to Miguel's. He might even be bigger; thicker, most definitely; and you bet his cock is just as pretty as he is. Oh fuck, and he'd tease; press into your hole just to snatch it away at the last second, rubbing persistent circles at your clit. You hear his voice in your head, the low grunts and groans you've memorised from all those nights he's spent with other girls. 

"Miguel,"  You're moaning shamelessly now. "...f-fuck, please–" 

There must be something electric in the way he fucks: with the litany of girls in and out of his bedroom, what keeps them coming back? He must talk them through it, whispering filth with his plush lips against their ear, and you wonder what he'd say to you. God , you'd give anything to hear it him say, just once, how beautiful he thinks you are; for him to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you close. You want him to fuck you; hard and deep and desperate. 

With that, your pace quickens and you gush around the toy. A spasm of limbs, and you're clamping down on the silicone – an orgasm that leaves you breathless and heaving. You convince yourself it's the taboo of it: fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate, after listening to his grunts and groans for the past couple weeks. He started it … thin walls, and all that. 

You ignore the want that lays stubborn at the pit of your stomach, riding through stuttering spasms as your orgasm winds down. You're touch starved, that's all, and Miguel's the closest warm body to latch onto. Nothing more, nothing less. Groaning, you shift, picking up your hips to gear up for another round. Just once more, so you know for sure. 

Thin walls. The sound leaks into your roommate's bedroom. But with your headphones on, you can't hear the sounds that echo back: Miguel O'Hara, back home early, with an ear pressed to the wall and desperately pumping his cock. 

~~~

"I'm not completely convinced, to be honest." You're in Miguel's car, tongue sticking out as you fiddle around with the dials. 

His gaze flicks over, and bats your paws off the dashboard. Flopping into your seat, you watch as he turns up the AC and switches the radio, as if reading your mind. 

"You really think I'd go through all this trouble?" He scoffs. "Bundle your ass out of the house and drive all the way here to…. do what exactly?" 

"Assert dominance in our shared ecosystem." You say it with finality, and he scrunches up his face in confusion. 

"...what does that even mean?" 

"Like in that nature doc you were watching the other day." 

"Well, the point was that spiders aren't hierarchical in the traditional sense. They form colonies that are… quasi-social, if anything, and–" He pauses. "Wait. You were paying attention?" 

You shrug. "I thought it was interesting." 

"Seriously?" 

"...no, not really."

You laugh as he pulls over to park, in a space next to what looks like an apartment complex. It looks way nicer than your place, with sandy brick and hedges that look well kept. Your laughter peters off. Miguel looks decidedly not amused. 

He opens the car door and clambers out as you scramble for the seatbelt. To your surprise, he opens the door for you; stretching out a hand for stability as you get out. When you both walk over to the intercom, your palm burns with his touch, and flexes with the memory of it. It's becoming a problem, his hands. You push down the beginnings of a hazy daydream. He presses a panel, waiting for the buzz. 

"Lyla? Could you let us up?" 

He waves demurely to the camera, and the receiver clicks. A cheery voice rings back. 

"...Us? Who's us, Miggy? Did you finally find a girl that puts up with your shit?" Her voice is singsong, teasing. With a smile, you watch as Miguel bristles, speaking into the slick panel. 

"My roommate, Jesus, Ly–" He says the next bit a little rushed, turning away slightly as if you still can't hear her loud and clear. "I thought we went through this, you can't keep trying to embarassmeeverytimeI–" 

She talks over him towards the end, rapid-fire banter that you can barely make out. 

"You never come and visit, except when it's 2am and you need to break into–" 

"Once! It was one time! Déjate, ya está bueno ya–" 

[Let it go, that's enough now–] 

"Let it go? No, no, absolutely not… what is it that you always say? It's the principle –" 

"Can you just fucking open the–" 

"What's the magic word?" 

He sighs, mouthing an apology to you. "Lyla–" 

"Magic. Word."

He mumbles. "Please." 

"Please what?" 

"Please could you open the fucking door."

There's a pause, and rustling over the intercom. The door buzzes open. 

In the elevator up, you keep quiet, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. Miguel is visibly brooding; arms crossed and brow furrowed. 

"Don't." He says, with a pout you almost think is cute. Almost. 

"I'm trying really, really hard not to." You put your hands up, as if to surrender. "... Miggy."

"Fuck off." And then, a little softer. 

"...I told you I have friends."

~~~

You leave it at that until you're in Lyla'a apartment, when she opens and ushers you in. She looks exactly the way she sounds: pretty, mousy features, with her hair in short, choppy layers. She's bundled up into a plush white robe; heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down the tip of her nose. 

Miguel breezes past her, towards the murmuring voices you can just about make out in the front room. 

"Lovely to see you too, Miguel." It's under her breath, but when she turns towards you there's a twinkle in her eye. 

You introduce yourself, and she pulls you into a tight hug. 

"I know," She says. It's ominous, but her voice is light and airy. When you separate, she flashes a wide smile. "Lyla. It's nice to put a face to a name."

"Uhh, sorry. What?" She ushers you further into her apartment as you speak, confused. 

"Oh, Miggy talks about you all the time. Complaining , mostly, but in that way he gets when he's trying really, really hard to pretend he doesn't care. Like, he texted me yesterday and–" 

"Thaaat's enough." You feel hands on your shoulders, and all of a sudden, Miguel is steering you away from her grip. You stumble into her living room, so bright and airy your eyes have to adjust to the light that floods in. Looking around, her apartment is gorgeous; a spacious open plan, floor-to-ceiling windows with a prime view, and lush furniture. Everything about it screams expensive – especially in comparison to your paltry place. Maybe the shock is visible on your face, but you're in awe. She can't be much older than Miguel, right? She looks about the same age, mid-twenties, not too far-removed from college… and it isn't quite adding up. 

"How can she afford this? That's what you're thinking." There's a voice on the sofa that makes you blink. A young man with messy brown hair, a set jaw and 5 o'clock shadow calls out to you in between mouthfuls of pizza. "Lyla's… mmhgh… suuper fuckin' rich… mmfgh… that's how." 

It's then that you notice there are other people here, sprawled out on the sofa set; boxes of takeout on the side tables next to them. Of course Lyla's rich: only 20-somethings with money to spare have matching sofas. 

She's like Beetlejuice, or the Candyman, and pops up next to you when her name's said. 

"I work in tech! With a cute little job on Wall Street, and a part-time one white hat hacking." She clarifies. " Ethical hacking." 

She giggles like she's told a joke somewhere, and you nod – still not quite understanding. 

"...and some side gigs that aren't as ethical." A blond haired man next to Mouthful-Of-Pizza pipes up. "When are you going to introduce us, Miguel?" 

He's grumbling in the kitchen area, digging through the shelves for something. He returns with a bag of chips and dip in a container, flopping onto the zebra print throw pillows. Distracted, he waves a hand around the group noncommittally. 

"Uhh, Peter, Ben, Lyla." He gestures to you, saying your name, and then to himself; tearing open the bag at the same time. "-and Miguel. All done"

"My turn for questions, now," Miguel says, pointing at Lyla, looking at the boys to his side. "Is she…?"

"...super high? Most definitely." Lyla giggles at Ben's words, for good measure. 

"...right. Peter Parker, nice to meet you." He throws a thumb to the back of the sofa, where you notice a little mop of red curls peeking out. "And this is my little Mayday."

Peals of laughter erupt from behind him, and you notice grubby hands with a death grip to the cushion rest. Miguel leaps up, rushing to her side to help her up its back. 

"Ayyy dios mio." He scoops her up carefully, "Buenas, Arañita." 

Mayday is on his lap now, a little toddler of about 1 or 2, snaking herself around to hug Miguel's chest. She is certifiably the cutest thing you've ever seen: gap-toothed and giggly, with a smatter of freckles like someone's flicked a paintbrush across her nose. And with the way Miguel melts, you can die happy, knowing that you've seen the impossible: Miguel O'Hara, cooing and fussing over the little girl. 

"Arañita?" You ask, to no one in particular. 

"Itsy-bitsy spider." . ..is the sing-song, choral response from everyone but Miguel. They're mimicking his tone of voice, and he raises his head from May, looking around. 

"I don't sound- " 

"You do, dude." Peter sighs, tickling the little red head on the tummy; smiling as she collapses into bright laughter. "I don't have a nickname, and I've known you waaay longer than she has."

Miguel covers her tiny little ears, and says, "Eres un pendejo, Parker . "

[you're a dipshit, Parker] 

The scraggly man sticks his tongue out in response, and May pulls at his hair for good measure. He yelps, and Miguel passes her over to her Dad. The scene is funny, for sure, but you feel it's warmth more than anything. God, you can tell they've loved and laughed with each other for years; the kind of friendship you'd kill to have. 

"We just need whatever's left of her laptop, Lyla," He's blunt, batting away long forgotten chips and dip. "...and then we'll get going. Wish I could stay longer, Arañita, but I've got some work to finish off."

May makes grabby hands at him, and you melt. Who knows how Miguel can stay strong in the face of her big, round eyes. 

He gets up to stand next to you, arms crossed. The height difference is stark: his tall, solid frame towering over everyone else. It seems like an intimidation tactic, but you know him just well enough to tell: he's trying not to be swayed by puppy eyes and promises of food. 

"You just got here, Miggy." Lyla sighs. "We're going over prep for Jess', and we'll be two minutes, I swear."

"Oh?" His eyebrows light up. "I knew it! You were being evasive on the group chat, and Pete wasn't returning my calls…"

Huffing, he clasps his hand around yours, ready to storm out. "This is an ambush. A goddamn setup!" 

"Wait, Miguel, I need my-" 

"I'll pick it up later for you, okay?" It's said like an aside, so soft only you can hear it. With his hand around yours, it certainly feels more intimate than it should. And it seems like he realises a little too late, dropping your hand as your faces are mere inches away. 

"Um, we should… we should go." 

You look past him to the faces blinking at you guys, on the sofa. A pause, and then you're gulping down stubborn feelings to ask a question. 

"Jess' ? Is there a party, or something?" 

Lyla nods. "Yeah, and Miguel's meant to be picking up cake."

The man in question pinches his nose. "I can pick up the cake just fine. It's the whole… going to a party bit I'm not too keen on."

"Come onnn, you know Jess would love it."

"She'd love to blackmail me with some dumb shit I did drunk, that's for sure."

"It's her birthday, hardass ." Peter whispers that last bit, covering little May's ears like before. "She can have a little blackmail, as a treat."

"You're gonna say no to a surprise party ?" Ben echoes, shaking his head dramatically. 

"A surprise birthday?" You light up. "Miguel, you have to go."

His stony demeanor cracks, for a moment. You latch onto it, hellbent on wearing him down. He's always got his laptop out doing work, or cracking open a little notebook to prep a lab. When he's not at home, he's at that internship, or tutoring, or planning a tutoring session. Work, work, work; and you'll be dammed if you let him rot away in a little cage of his own machinations. 

"Come on, Miggy." You watch him bristle, prying at that little crack in the surface. This has to be done with finesse: present a challenge, and watch him scramble to prove you wrong. "You're telling me a couple of hours at a party's too much for you? That's it? " 

"That's not–" 

"S'what it sounds like to me." You shrug, a little smile on your face. The aim is to look as smug as possible; and it seems to be working. 

His jaw shifts, annoyed. Lyla catches on, giving you a crazed smile. 

"Even your roommate's gonna come." She says, an arm linked in yours. 

"I am?" She gives you a little dig, and you're spluttering. "Y-Yeah, I am!" 

You can see him fight with his own ego; but it's a one-sided affair. 

"Fine. " He strains. "Two hours, max. And then I'm gone."

Lyla gives you a squeeze, and then wraps you both up in a hug he desperately tries to fight off. Ben slots around you guys, and Peter's last to join, with Mayday squealing on his shoulders. 

Eventually, you get what's left of your laptop: a little thumb drive with as much as Lyla could save. You'd thanked her profusely, of course; trying to slither out of her vice grip of a hug, as best you could. She's absolutely batshit, the good kind; cryptic, and strange, but with a lot of heart. She makes you wonder, and they all do; just how did they become friends with Miguel? How do they fit? 

The man himself seems a little different, as if reinvigorated by being around friends. In fact, you catch him smiling to himself on the drive home. It's sweet; to see a different side of him around people he's clearly comfortable with. If only for a little while, he sheds the heavy weight he seems to carry around. 

Around the house, you notice he seems lighter – humming to himself whilst cooking dinner. That very day, you watch the little sway of hips as he stirs a pot; headphones in, singing under his breath. He can't sing for shit, of course, and he'd kill you if you ever uttered a word; but it's a sight you commit to memory, not knowing when next he'll be in such a good mood. 

There's still the question of a new laptop in the air, but you feel more settled by the events of the day. You're a little less fucked school-wise, you've got a party to look forward to, and potentially a drunk Miguel to make fun of. He goes to bed early; and you can hear the quiet drone of a podcast from the other side of the wall. He drifts off to the sweet, dulcet tones of Top Ten Genetic Precursors for Early Onset Dementia; one of his favourites, you've determined. 

All is well, for now. A tentative truce, and maybe, just maybe: you're finally friends with your roommate. 

~~~

There's something about dramatic irony that seems to smack you across the face, every time. 

You've come to somewhat of a understanding with your prickly roommate, and the stream of women in his bed seem to slow down, for a bit. He's hot, he's a whore; but he's sweet, with an eye for detail. He can read you with a scary amount of accuracy. Antsy and hungry from a long day? He leaves you scratching your head at his clairvoyance when you come home, chucking you a hot water bottle and a warm meal. You go to bed with a full belly, cramps abated. 

He's still a prick, of course. Sarcastic comments, and a massive grump – but you've learnt to deal with that. Just a couple of days after a seemingly settled week; what you can't wrap your head around is the pounding music from next door, at fuck-off-o'clock . He shouldn't be awake, let alone interrupting your late night study session. 

You're pissed, leaping from your desk to pound at his door. You're thudding towards his room, ready to deliver a well-deserved verbal lashing, and the door just… swings open. Empty; there's a window ajar and music pumping from speakers. Bachata and cheesy 90s R&B; which sounds suspiciously like his sex playlist. 

Yes, he has a sex playlist. And it really has no business to sound as good as it does. 

Nevertheless, you're resolute. If he's managed to sneak someone, at this hour, you decide he's going to get more than a stern talking to. 

There's clattering in the kitchen, and you whip around; half-expecting the giggle of another girl. When you walk in, it's just Miguel, rummaging through cupboards: a half-naked thief in the night. 

"Miguel?" 

He pops his head up from a cabinet, with a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth. Caught red-handed, you suppose; and he gives you a little smile. 

"S'everyfin' – mmmfggh –" He scarfs the rest of it down. "Everything okay?" 

You squint. "No. Not really."

He chuckles, a slight rasp at the edges of his voice. Dickhead – what exactly is so funny? 

"You can't have your music so fucking loud, not when I'm studying. It's the middle of the night and–" 

Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweats, he's busying himself with a sandwich on the counter; clattering around noisily like he doesn't have full control of his limbs. Which is…. weird, admittedly. You'd trust Miguel to slice a grape with a machete – his dexterity is usually unmatched. Not that you'd made a habit of staring at his hands, or anything. 

"Are you even listening to me?" 

He nods, attempting to keep a straight face, but the faux solemnity does nothing to hide that droop of eyelids and slump of his shoulders. You get closer, pushing him to face you properly. 

"Oh, fuck," His eyes are a little red, hair messy and windswept. "Are you… high? " 

Miguel O'Hara? High? You'd never thought you'd live to see the day, honestly. His eyes go wide, dropping his sandwich dramatically. And then he's got a big hand at your shoulder, pulling you closer with a finger pressed to his lips. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering your name like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone."

With the way he says your name it makes you light-headed. It's slow and careful, as if he's testing the way it feels spilling from his lips. And maybe, with the way he smiles, it feels good; tastes sweet wrapped around his tongue. 

"I won't." You breathe, and then you're both giggling.

There's something about the way he looks at you, peering under heavy lashes; basically eye-fucking you in the space of your tiny kitchen. You feel bare in a little t-shirt and sleep shorts; suddenly exposed. 

"You should…" He starts, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Join me, chula. "

It's soft; sinful, even; said as he coaxes you between his body and the kitchen counter. 

You don't trust your voice enough to answer, legs already shaky, so you nod. Slight, at first; and then with a little more gusto as the idea of him and you on his sheets – intimate, alone – creeps in. He stretches out a hand, and you take it; led to his bedroom like a scene you've seen before. All those girls before you; led to the dragon's lair like damsels in a fairytale. Except in this one, you suppose, you're not waiting for a knight in shining armour to save you. 

He sits you down on the bed, passing you a freshly rolled blunt. Passing it to your lips , more specifically; hand on your chin as he brings the lighter up to its end. Even prettier up close, all you can do is watch the press of plump lips, and pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates. As he leans in, there's a hand on your bare thigh. You inhale, deeply, and he hums with content.

"Good girl," He purrs, prying it from your lips to take a slow drag. 

"You're a bad influence." You murmur, watching as his eyes flutter shut. 

"You need to relax," He leans back, arm drawn lazily upwards. "This is helping."

"That's not–" Oh. You feel it now, a steady haze rolling over limbs. 

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow, amused. 

You repeat, slowly, "You're a bad influence ."

"Does it feel good?" You pause, trying to ignore his low tone; and the steady blaze that it ignites within you. Dragging your eyes to meet his, you see it: want, lust, something heavy that swirls behind them. 

You nod, itching for another pull. As if psychic, he gestures for you to come closer; and your lips almost slot against his. He exhales, and you inhale; in the closest thing you've come to a kiss in months. It makes you ache for just a little more contact, for those pretty hands to slot between your thighs and–

"Is this all I need to do for some quiet around here?" He asks, lilting. If only he'd stop talking; interrupting your fantasy with that stupid grin of his. 

You're shaking your head, laughing at the sheer gall . 

"You're fucking someone new every week, O'Hara. Loud. Who was it the other day? Cathy, Kayla –" 

"Sita, actually." He has a strange expression on his face. "And we didn't fuck. Just going over lecture notes."

"Sorry . Must have gotten mixed up with the half-dozen other girls in and out of here. Our apartment's not a brothel , Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remnants of the blunt. 

"...s'not my fault there isn't anyone fucking you right."

You scoff. "How would you know?" 

"Thin walls. " It's cryptic. What the fuck does that mean?

You take a careful drag, and hand the blunt back – trying your hardest not to strangle him. It must show on your face as you tussle with the thought, because Miguel is staring; unabashedly, unashamedly. When you notice, it throws you off. 

"... what?" Ready to defend yourself, you huff. 

He shrugs. His expression is soft, reminding you of that night, not long ago. 

"You look like a painting."

You practically short circuit. You've been complimented before, of course. Hot, by men trying to get into your pants. Pretty, sometimes. Beautiful, the other times. Whether it's been sincere, you don't know – but you're smart enough to not overthink it. It's hard enough to live a life, as it is; and you'd rather not be bogged down by what others think, how you look whilst doing it. And yet, you feel your body betray you; a steady bloom of heat at your heart, like you've been stabbed. So deep, it spreads like blood on the front of a blouse. Like a painting, he says. And you like the way he says it; how it sounds spilling from his lips. 

Its implication sits heavy. Like a painting : hand-crafted, silken, soft –

He blinks, the crack of a smile on his face. And it ends in a fit of giggling, if you can even call it that. 

"Stop fucking with me." You grumble, and he thinks the way your face scrunches up with disdain is cute. There's probably an implication there he should unpack in therapy – how he likes it when you shout and put him in his place – but he's much too high to care. 

"M'not-" He quiets down, flattens his face into something resembling sobriety and gravitas. He gets a little closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body and flutter of lashes. With wide, dilated pupils, he stills - and it really doesn't help that he looks so pretty. 

"Can't stop thinking about you, hermosa." His voice is low, slurred with the weight of the blunt he's taken careful drags of. Every word makes you feel hazy, drawn in by his lips. " Fuck, all the time."

"Hear your laugh in my dreams, sometimes." He circles your bare thigh carefully, without breaking eye contact. With a thumb on your chin, he brings you closer, and closer still. Gently, you close your eyes, expecting the press of his lips against yours… 

…instead, you get a puff of smoke for your troubles. Reeling, you push him away. He collapses on the bed in a laughing fit. 

"... now I'm fucking with you." Rumbling laughter, and you've got the wherewithal to be embarrassed – hand still resting on his bare chest. 

A little cruelly, you push down, giving him an elbow to the ribs for good measure and he splutters with surprise – laughing all the same. 

"Asshole." You slur, and he grabs your arm to pull you onto the covers with him. You paw at him wildly, wrestling amongst the table of sheets. It's not a fair fight, not really; the wide expanse of his bare chest feels solid, and he's probably got more muscle in his pinky toe than you do in your whole body. Miguel is strong , but plays along regardless, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists - but lets you turn him over just as quick. You're both laughing, the blunt long forgotten but its haze blurring the lines. You straddle his middle, hips flush against his and he keens; head back and cheeks flushed.

"Fuck," It's quiet, said as he writhes below you and you try to pin his hands above his head. Maybe it's the weed, but he lets you: eyes low, breath steady. And you stay like that, for a moment; bodies laid against one another. 

You don't know who starts it: the slow roll of hips, the swell of his cock bucking up against your heat. Regardless, you welcome it, letting the heat build up with the pressure at your clit. Your hips sway and all Miguel can do is watch. 

Lips parted, head back; and you set a steady rhythm that washes over you both.

Humping against one another, you get more desperate and drag your hands to his chest for purchase. Underneath you, Miguel practically purrs – one hand on your waist and the other clutching yours at his chest. 

"So, so pretty…" He sighs into it, wide palm pawing at your ass, shamelessly grabbing handfuls. By now, he's rock hard; and you feel him throb through the thin material of his sweats. 

"Fuck, I can't–" You moan, ragged, the roll of your hips gaining speed. 

Miguel coos, bringing a hand to your chin to pull you closer to the crook of his neck. 

"Too fast, hermosa. S-Slow it down for me." He grips your waist, forcing the pace to slow. Your hips stutter against his, delicious pressure making you cry out. And, God, you're close; pleasure building up at your gut. 

"Ohhh, fuck. Just like that, just like–" It's soft, whispered between the press of bodies like a prayer: reverent, intimate, a slew of garbled English and Spanish into the shell of your ear that goes straight to your pussy. 

"A-Ahi, ahi–"

[t-there, there–] 

Plush lips brush against your cheek, and you try so hard to not float away - with only his words to keep you tethered.  

"... no pares lo que sea que estes haciendo–ohh-fuck–" 

[don't stop what you're doing, oh fuck–] 

The coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you arch into his touch as he does the same. Miguel spills into his sweats, heaving with the effort. He can feel the clench of your pussy above, and he chases it in the aftermath; craning his neck to finally get a kiss. Limbs heavy, you still manage to swerve so his kisses land at your jaw. He's grateful for the contact anyway it comes and sucks careful hickies into the skin: at your neck, your collarbone, and anywhere else he can reach. 

You sink into it, curl up on his chest like a housecat; his hands wandering the gentle slope of your back under your shirt. 

Limbs heavy, you pry yourself from his hands ever so slightly. He strains to follow you up, snapping back into the sheets like an elastic band. Still, he kneads at your flesh - bare thighs spilling from your shorts. 

" Miguel," You whisper, hand travelling past his neck to cradle his jaw. "Need more…"

You punctuate that last word with a roll of your hips. Wanton, conflicted; he groans . 

"It's late, chula. " He says it slowly, hesitant – like he can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. He's still high, lost in the whispy remnants of that blunt. You've never known weed to make someone more responsible, and you flop to his side, a little childishly. 

Miguel makes sure to keep a hand wrapped around your waist, dragging his other knuckles up your exposed tummy so that it rides up to the swell of your tits. 

"And you've got that 9am."

You cover your face with the span of your hands, grumbling. From between the gaps in your fingers, you repeat, 

" ...and I've got that 9am ."

He traces lazy circles in your flesh. Maybe it's the blunt, or the afterglow of an orgasm; but you make him laugh, a gentle ache replacing the creak and shudder of gears. 

"Idiot." He says, kissing it into your skin. And he burns from the touch, fleeting; like the warm flame from paper lanterns, or the flicker of a lighter against cool night air. 

_

_

_

Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Left Behind

ai-less whumptober day 19- left behind/why wasn't I enough fandom- dp x dc TW- abandonment Summary- The Fenton parents leave their kids at the Gotham Public Library

ao3 ailesswhumptober masterlist part 1 of TFR

Barbara was working the closing shift at the library. She was putting some books away when she overheard a conversation.

“Do you know when mom and dad are going to pick us up?” said what sounded like a teenage boy.

“No, I– Oh, wait they just messaged me.” said what Barbara thought was a slightly older teen girl.

Silence.

“Jazz?

“They left.”

“What?”

“Someone posted about a possible sighting in Metropolis. They said they’ll be there for a few days.”

There was more silence. Barbara stayed quiet.

“So, they left us behind.”

“Yeah.”

“Again.”

“...Yeah.”

Barbara closed her eyes, thinking of Tim and how he had been left home alone so much. And these kids… their parents had abandoned them too.

“Well at least we’re not helpless.”

“I hate them.”

“Jazz–”

“No, Danny. I hate them. They’re supposed to be our parents. They’re supposed to take care of us.”

“I know. They always chose something else over us. Why aren’t we enough, Jazz?”

“I don’t know.” she sniffled.

“Jazz, hey, look at me. We’ll be okay.”

“I'm sorry, Danny. I'm just so tired.”

“I am too.”

Barbara was about to speak up when they continued.

“At least i have a credit card this time so it won’t be like the time they forgot is in Bridgton.”

“Yeah, that sucked. We were lucky we were able to sneak onto that semi.”

“Well, tonight we can get a hotel room and then get bus tickets tomorrow.

“I could just... you know. Do my thing.”

“I guess, but we should at least get a hotel for tonight. I don’t want to try traveling while you’re exhausted.”

“That’s fair. But–”

Barbara finally decided she should make her presence known. She cleared her throat as she made her way around the bookshelf.

The two teens startle. They looked like siblings. The girl was a redhead with teal eyes, and the boy had black hair and blue eyes.

“Hello, I’m Barbara. I work here at the library. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” she paused as the siblings glanced at each other, the boy reaching over to grab his sister’s arm. 

“What do you mean?” asked the girl, Jazz, if Barbara was correct.

“You need a place to stay tonight? It’ll be hard to find a good hotel at this hour. I’ve got an extra bedroom at my apartment, and you’re welcome to stay the night. You won’t owe me anything.”

“Why?” asked the boy, Danny.”

Barbara considered for a moment. “I have a friend who went through a similar situation as you guys, so I’m familiar with what it's like to have your parents be too busy. And you wouldn’t be the first kids I've let stay the night. I can help you find bus tickets in the morning. I’m familiar with most of the routes and can let you know which ones are the safest and quickest.”

The girl glanced at her brother, who stared at Barbara. There was a moment where his eyes seemed to glow and Barabar felt as if he were really looking at her. She suppressed a shudder at the intense feeling. 

Then he turned to his sister and nodded.

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you. I’m Jazz and this is Danny.”

“It’s nice to meet you both. I have to finish locking up so I’ll meet you by the door.”

They nodded and started gathering their stuff.

Barbara went to finish the rest of the closing shift duties. 

She also had a call to make.

[oh-stars]

Eddie's Quest

Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 916 words | CW: implied bad Harrington parents, rec drug use | Rating: T

--

There isn’t much from Steve’s childhood that Eddie knows about and what he does know, hasn’t always been good. Steve just doesn’t share a lot in general though. He’s content in living in the present, which isn’t something Eddie really knows how to do. So when Steve does share something positive, something that he holds dear from his childhood, Eddie latches on.

Their anniversary is coming up, only a few weeks away, and Steve mentioned he misses the way a babysitter made this specific kind of cake. Black something. Steve couldn’t remember the name of it so now Eddie’s on a mission to try and figure it out. 

Eddie finds himself at Claudia Henderson’s doorstep on a Tuesday morning with flowers in his hand. When she opens the door, Eddie doesn’t even let her say hello before he’s giving them to her with a, “I need your help finding this really obscure recipe to make Steve happy and I have a feeling it’s going to be a nightmare because I can’t bake for shit. Will you please help?” 

Claudia coos at him. “Oh you’re the sweetest, Eddie! Of course, I’ll help! Come in, come in.” 

They end up pouring over all her cookbooks, and then Claudia starts a phone tree with Karen, Sue, and Joyce for their recipes. All five of them converge at the library, their personal cookbooks in hand, to take over one of the study rooms the library offers. “If we don’t have it,” Claudia told him as they settled in, “then the library will.” 

Eddie can’t even argue as they get to work. 

“Did he say what it tasted like?” Karen asks as she starts flipping through a book. Joyce had the brilliant idea of marking where all the dessert sections started in each book, so each woman was currently flipping away while Eddie tried to remember every detail Steve had mentioned. 

“He mentioned cherries,” Eddie groans, scrubbing at his face. “And it’s a cake.” 

“Could be topped with cherries,” Sue hums as she sorts through her books. 

“Or a cherry filling,” Claudia points out. 

“Steve has a sweet tooth,” Joyce adds after a while. “He likes rich flavors, so it’s probably on the sweeter side than a refreshing dessert.” 

Eddie shrugs. “I guess?” 

“You know,” Karen says as she taps her fingers against her book. “I think I remember a few of Steve’s nannies over the years. They were always at the school for pick up. Do you know which one has the recipe?” 

“Does she still live here?” Sue asks. “It would save us some time to just ask.” 

“No, no,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “He said his parents didn’t let him keep in touch and she moved away. He doesn’t know where.” 

The women share a knowing, quiet look amongst them. Eddie’s not sure he’s fluent in their silent mom language, but he knows a judgy look when he sees one. 

Eddie jumps up and paces the room, retracing every line of thinking that particular conversation followed. The problem is, they were high as fuck when Steve brought it up, sharing tidbits between big bites of the ice cream they’d found in their freezer. 

“You would have loved her,” Steve had said with a mouthful. He was laying on Eddie, legs hanging off the arm of the couch and propped against Eddie’s side so they could share the pint. “She liked to read a lot, always had books for me.”

“What kind of books?” Eddie asked. 

“Think ones.” Steve shrugged, eyes glazed over. “Fairy Tales, but the real gross stuff. So my dad wouldn’t get mad,” he added quickly. 

Gross fairy tales, Eddie thinks. He knows what Steve’s talking about, the original dark shit that they used to scare children into behaving from the grim–

“German!” Eddie screeches as he slams his hands on the table. To their credit, none of the mothers jump except for Joyce. “She was German!” 

Karen looks up at the ceiling, eyes narrowed in concentration. Claudia taps her fingers against her temple. Sue hums as she checks a few of the spines on the other stacks. Joyce leans back, crossing her arms as she stares off into space. 

“That has to help,” Eddie tries, quieter, “right?” 

“Maybe,” Karen says as she blinks back at the cookbook. She trades it for another. “And you’re sure it had cherries?” 

“Oh!” Joyce jumps up, hands flailing as she grabs for a book off Claudia’s stack. “I know it!” 

They all crowd around the book, heads tucked together as Joyce flies through the sections and slaps a finger against a chocolate cake. “Black Forest Cake,” she says, panting a little. 

Eddie moves the book to read the description. “This is it!” 

Their cheering gets them kicked out, but none of them seem to mind as they tote their cookbook stacks back to their cars. Claudia and Sue are already talking about commandeering Karen’s kitchen to bake it in a few days, since her kitchen is bigger, and they can all help – make a day of it with wine and gossip. He doesn’t care how it gets made, just that he can take it to Steve, to show him he listens and cares and loves him so much. He can’t wait to share this cake with him, to make it for him every year just because. His quest will be complete and he’ll get to live happily ever after with a very happy, well-fed prince. Best quest yet.

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[chxrryhxrt]

The library - Lucius Malfoy x Female Reader

Synopsis: You have a slight crush Lucius Malfoy, finding yourself easily flustered whenever he is near. When this starts to bring you unwanted attention, who will stand up for you?

Warnings: none, just slight angst and fluffy stuff at the end

This is just a short little one-shot that I wrote a few years back for my first request. I posted it on my old account but am just in the process of moving all my work over here!

Sighing, you flicked through the charms book laid out in front of you, landing on page 83. You shuffled through a few more pages and paused, frowning down at it.

“This is the right page, isn’t it?” you asked, turning the textbook to show your friend, “Because I could’ve sworn Binns said revision for muffliato was on this page, not self-defense charms.”

Glancing up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together as she reached out to pick up the book, bringing it closer to her bespectacled face, inspecting it. 

“Y/n, this is the wrong textbook, you absolute billywig. We’re doing standard charms, this,” she stated, waving the book in your face, “is an introduction to charms book.”

“Oh Merlin, how did I manage that?”

She snorted, “They do look pretty similar I guess, except the one you want is almost twice the size.”

You looked away and laughed dryly, taking the book back, “It’s an easier mistake to make than you’d think. I’m going to go find the other one, I’ll be back in a bit.”

You untucked your chair from the table, trudging through the towers of bookshelves to the section where you had gotten the previous book. Sliding it back into the shelf, you stared around at the masses of similar-looking novels - all worn down shades of brown and thoroughly used. Who on earth thought it was a good idea to make them look practically identical?

After scouring almost every shelf for what felt like hours, you gave up, deciding to ask the librarian if they knew where to find it before the library closed up - which on reflection - you should've done in the first place. Hastily, you raced off around the corner, sending piles of books flying. Without this book, there was no way you’d be able to revise for your upcoming exams, let alone pass them.

As you approached the entrance, you saw a girl from your charms class, Beth, deep in conversation with Lucius; the boy you were absolutely head over heels for. With his smooth blonde hair and shimmering blue eyes, you couldn't be blamed - almost any girl would give up their soul for a chance with him.

You noticed that he happened to be holding a copy of 'Standard charms and spells' - exactly what you had been searching for. Hesitantly, you began to walk up to them, your heels scuffing the stone floor with each step and heart knocking against your ribs.

When you got closer, he turned to look at you, a small smile forming.

"Hi, Lucius," you started, fiddling with your fingers, twisting them into strange positions, "I noticed that you have the charms book I've been looking for, and I was just,  uh, wondering if I could maybe, like, borrow it?" As he opened his mouth to reply, you spluttered out a mess of words, which sounded somewhat like an apology for interrupting his prior conversation. At that, there was a subtle flash of an obscure emotion across his features. You felt fairly confident that it was pity.

"Oh, no please don't apologise, I was actually just coming to put it back, but," he paused, his eyes flicking to look at Beth briefly, "I bumped into Beth an-"

"And he's said he's giving the book to me, but don't stress yourself, he wouldn't have given it to someone like you, even if you’d asked before me."

You flinched slightly at the sudden abrasive tone, bottom lip tucking between your teeth as your body froze up.

You stared at both of them for a moment, then scurried away back to where you'd been sat before.

As you retreated, you felt a pair of eyes on your back, no doubt judging you. Thoughts clouded your mind in embarrassment, what if Lucius found that funny? What if they are both doubled over behind you, laughing? You tried tirelessly to shake these worries from your mind as you headed back to the comfort of your friend.

When you got to the table, it seemed as though your friend had left already, as all her stuff was packed up and gone, but honestly you couldn't be mad at her, you had been gone for at least an hour.

So, you started grabbing all your stuff: your quill, parchment, inkpot and wand, and shoved them all into your satchel hurriedly.

You went to turn and sling your bag over your shoulder but found Beth standing behind you, in your way.

"Sorry, Beth, I really have to go, can you move over a bit?" you asked, chewing the side of your cheek.

"It's really obvious you know." she claimed, staring you dead in the eyes.

"What?"

"You always blush and stutter when he talks to you. It's not like he's interested in you, you know? He's a Malfoy, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. You're nowhere near as respected as him. In fact, hardly anyone even knows who you are."

With every word, your eyes glossed over more and more, tears welling up, on the verge of pouring down your face. You couldn't think of anything to say, she was right and that was what hurt, Lucius would never be interested in you.

Beth stepped towards you, trapping you between the table and her body.

"Just the other day, I heard him talking about you, I'm only saying this because thought you deserve to know. But he said that you're nothing but a desperate wh-"

"Beth," A loud, assertive voice came from behind a bookshelf, revealing Lucius as he walked over to you both, "Step away from her now."

When she stayed put, he wasted no time in pulling his wand out and pointing it at her. "Move. now." He growled out, stepping forwards and pressing the wand to her neck.

Her breathing sped up and she said nothing, but moved backwards, freeing you from her grasp.

"Now leave us, and do not speak to her that way again," he said, moving to your side, "Do you understand me?"

She murmured a quick yes and snatched up her wand, sprinting out of the library.

Lucius turned to face you, expression full of regret, his hand coming up to gently stroke you cheek. "I am so so sorry, love. I would have helped you sooner, had I known she was going to do that."

"It's okay, but what she was saying, wa-"

He hushed you, cupping your jaw, "None of it was true, sweetheart. For the record, I can definitely like someone as perfect and as lovely as you. In fact, how could I not?"

You beamed, looking up at him and then at his lips, "Can I?"

"Of course you can,” He replied, placing his hand on the back of your head and pulling you slowly into a kiss.

He pulled away, pupils filled with adoration, his warm hand grasping yours, "Now, how about we go to the common room, and I help you with this charms work, hm?"

[yasmeensh]

Book rant? Anthropology, apes, and racism discussion.

I started reading a book titled "Bonobo Handshake" by Vanessa Woods. I picked it up because a) I want to learn more about bonobos since my knowledge of them is minimal. b) the author had interacted with bonobos in person so it's an interesting perspective to read. c) the book had positive reviews.

I was not expecting the author to start off telling us about the 'discovery' of bonobos in this way.

W-what do you mean, in Belgium? The author makes it clear that bonobos live in Congo and she gives us a few examples of local bonobo lore. Meaning, people in Congo know the bonobos very well. Way to go to give a colonizer the credit??? wtf. In this perspective, she is letting us know THAT was the moment when Bonobos entered western science, which is true. But I was really hoping the author would give it a more holistic view than this, but it seems she really believes in this??? And let me tell you, from what I am picking up between the lines, she ONLY accepts western science. Here is an example:

This is the page that confuses me immensely. I don't know if she is trying to come off as sarcastic or not. She sets out for us that Takayoshi Kano is the star of Bonobo research, but in the next paragraph says there is no one studying Bonobos. "there was never a Jane Goodall or Dian Fossey for bonobos." UHM NO? YOU JUST SAID THERE WAS???

[highlighting and writing over a picture of the page (32) since it's a library book and I can't write on it.]

She says Japanese researchers are responsible for all we know on Bonobos, but then starts talking about de Waal's zoo discoveries in detail, and they seem pretty minor compared to Kano's work with wild bonobos. She did point out that scientists don't take de waal's observations seriously because it's from a zoo, but she doesn't remedy that by telling us if it can be supported by Kano's work or not when compared. Kano is ignored. He does have one book available in English, so it's not like we can't ever learn about what he observed. you said western mainstream media don't want to listen to a man who only spoke Japanese??? UHM. You are too??? Why did you jump to de waal? If it's a book about bonobos, then please give Kano a little spotlight and tell about his research. (I actually want to read Kano's book now but I can't find a borrowable copy of it. It's a complicated long loop to get one. But it's possible T-T!!!!)

I very much dislike her tone in 'oh it's the Japanese that tell us about bonobo'. It is as if no one is actually researching them at all. They are 'foreign' so it doesn't count. Meanwhile, if it's a white person's discovery, it is humanity's. But if it's someone else theeennnn well we are not sure if it's actually real :/ Not until a white person observes this can we really put this into humanity's archive of knowledge. Otherwise, whatever they learnt is not very important or worth talking about.

I'm not gonna drop the book, because it does get me thinking about stuff and that's what I read books for. I guess it reminds me of University days, of how irritated I get when we are assigned a problematic reading to pick apart and present to class. I hope I'm not picking this apart too much 😭 I'm not sure if I'm enraged and reading too much into it. I might be totally wrong. idk... I think I need to join an anthropology book club to have people to talk with about this. Only way for now is to share on the internet and maybe a discussion starts. Want to see what others think of this (especially if they read the book).

[transmutationisms]

Hi caden i always scroll through your blog and whenever i leave i find myself questioning if you are the Scihub wizard. What's your range regulation on your topics of study (as in, how do you seek what catches your interest more thoroughly) and how do you sort out what qualifies articles on such as readable or relevant to engage with? Every time I search up stuff on jstor it just gives me the most stalest stuff ever. If you have any specific websites or tricks to recommend it would mean it all. Thank you

hm well... i guess the short answer would be that i do spend a lot of time reading things that i ultimately decide are stupid or irrelevant or redundant, lol. like, if i'm not actively writing i'm probably researching. so if i post, like, book recs, there's probably at least a few years of reading around and behind that... some of this work will eventually become useful or interesting to me (appendix my advisor made me cut and said was irrelevant in 2020 whose footnotes i raided today) and some of it will probably just live forever in some dusty corner of my mind (zotero folder on phonographic physiology that has only an extremely tangential connection to anything else i literally ever write on).

but in general, my approach is usually to read more, not less—i don't know what connections i might want to make if i never read on those topics, ykwim? i definitely get faster at finding things and sifting through sources the more familiar i am with a topic. but even so, i like to read widely, knowing full well that some (large) percentage of it will be useless to whatever i'm currently working on, lol. there's plenty in my library that i've never cited, or i only quoted a line or two, or i named it only to say it sucks. i think this is all fine and fun honestly. but, a few ways to narrow some of this down:

when you're looking for the seminal literature on a certain topic, you can shortcut some of the searching by picking up anything recent and just picking through the footnotes. (this is called 'snowballing' sometimes.) it's not a comprehensive strategy because you won't find newer or obscure texts—but it's a decent starting point

i work with historical sources, so often the way i find really interesting stuff is by searching the actual names i'm finding in the primary literature. these tend to be figures with a smaller footprint in the secondary literature, who often get overshadowed in more general topic searches, and i often end up reading about all kinds of weird niche topics i didn't even know to look for

some professional societies and journals maintain databases and bibliographies of recent publications; these are worth scanning from time to time. you can often find them by googling, like, "[field] bibliography / database" or sometimes you can find them thru journal websites (but these index more than just the journal's publications). usually free at least to see article titles/abstracts

you can also pick a couple flagship journals in your subtopic and just scan their recent issues from time to time; again article titles are generally free to view. don't rely exclusively on journals, but again, can be a good place to start

dissertations and theses are also good for footnotes, since part of the assignment is usually to show that you're familiar with the recent literature. you don't really want to rely on dissertations for actual citations if you don't have to (the qc is on average even lower than professional publishing... lol) but for reading recs, go for it

[aluria-sevhex]

I BEAT THE GAME

a solid 3rd of my ISAT notes on my phone are just from 'today' (writing this past midnight lol)

my ISAT masterpost

every post in this series is also tagged as #Aluria plays ISAT for the first time (please don't spoil)

please note that there's a bunch of notes in this post because i was still in Act 3 at the beginning of this post lol

-i'm not playing it rn but i have decided to break my 'no looking stuff up' rule so i know where to go to make Sif rember what they say when carving stuff

[WRITING TUMBLR POST ALURIA NOTE: i later looked up maps of the House to help me keep track of stuff lol]

-ok now i know. i like figuring things out myself but i could not fucking remember lol.

-i have a really long car ride so. MORE ISAT

-title theme shout-out

-Sif tripped on a rock. "you're clumsy and not at all threatening and overpowered compared to them!" :(

-they almost forgot to catch Isa :(

-dang, Siffrin didn't say nya this time D:

-hehe they hit it back. one could say it's a... COUNTER-attack B)

-SIFFRIN GHOST ON THE WAY TO THE DORM

-WAIT FUCK DID I FORGET THE SHARPENING STONE

-fuck it i was planning to loop back after finding out what to say anyway

-ah don't i also need to find more i fo on the King somewhere? eh i can do that on the next loop... so much to keep track of...

-LMAO. THE PHRASE SIF SAYS. "please don't look bad please don't look bad please don't look bad" BIG FUCKING MOOD TBH

-Sif on his way to talk to their tools and project while carving or sharpening:

-aight time to die lmao

-Loop my belooped

-hm... it's Loop's job to remember Siffrin's mistakes...

-"you don't have to remember to yell' always gets me :(

-I FOUND THE ARTICLES

-ok so currently i'm thinking that the King and Siffrin are probably from the same place. which may or may not be where Loop is from and/or the disappearing island and/or connected to the color thing.

this game has a lot of weird shit going on.

-Bonnie doesn't know what a star is

-OH FUCK NO. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO GO TO THE OBSERVATORY. I'M LEAVING THAT FOR A LATER LOOP.

-another ghost :0

-ISAT: 📚

ISAT if Siffrin could pick locks: 📕

-WHAT. "you used to find them disgusting, but someone you knew loved them, so you tried them."

"someone you knew?"

"who?"

O_O

-aw, Isa hugged Mira on this bathroom trip

-"you wish for rest" yeah...

-"please be sharp, please be sharp, please be sharp"

-the Keyknife is now the Knifekey. WAIT. THIS MEANS IN THE FUTURE I CAN DO OTHER SHIT ON FLOOR 3. HELL FUCKING YES.

-wait. OH C'MON. boooooooo

-i picked malanga fritters and almost skipped past something that seems important. they remind Siffrin of his parents? :0 their head hurt...

-"BECAUSE YOU FORCED THEM TO!" :(

-"where r u from" "no u"

-JUST FUCKING CONFESS ISA FJHDHEJKSMXMDKSKS

-*sighs* guess i should talk to her. actually... what if i called Loop?

-huh. can't call them here.

-"i just hope that one day you might learn" WAIT THAT'S DIFFERENT- wait nvm i got things mixed up in my head :(

-"in this moment, you were loved"

-"that was a nice rehearsal" OH FUCK.

-i just skipped from loop 37 to 40

-time to kill myself with a banana! oop- *plantain*

-"you broke your head open on a rock" it did not use to describe it like that.

-wait. Sif. if you're annoyed there isn't a more dignified way in the village to loop. just kill yourself. you have a knife. just fucking kill yourself to loop forward.

-...fuck what the hell is this game doing to my thought process

-ok what should i look for in this room...

-"BUT YOU ARE NOT ABLE TO READ IT" in large font... :(

-:( Sif is trying to remember something and it's tied to the stars

-aight new thing to ask the king time to get myself killed via tear yippee

-seems like the King wants Siffrin to remember their home... "something we've all forgotten" this is definitely about the disappearing island and the colors

-i need to go to the library and find the books on it.

-hey isn't Rock also called Protection Craft? kinda interesting that the King has it

-damn i died to the King because of timing bullshit ToT

-"one more time."

-huh... it evades active remembrance

-it had a belief centered on the Universe...

-need to figure out why the King is obsessed with Vaugarde

-freezing something perfect in time... do i need to find one of those Time Craft books again?

-gonna loop forward to the King

-"even the King feels easy to fight, now"

"i still can't say it" the name of their home. he wants to be able to say the name of his and Siffrin's home. ouagh this game is going to leave me emotionally devastated ToT

-fuck i missed the option to ask Odile if she was going to continue her fake research on a loop where i didn't spend time with her

-"can we group hug after i talk to the Head Housemaiden?" oh?

-DAMMIT ODILE INTERRUPTED ISA THIS TIME

-time to talk to her. again. again and again and again and again

-"you can start breaking down now" lol

-"the curtain falls" DAMN

-"HERE AGAIN?" woah Loop why so aggressive?

-"i'm too lazy to open up new dialogue choices" lol

-hm... show Loop the souvenirs...

-wait huh. in another loop this lady in Dormont said she has no siblings but now she has a sister. odd...

-:O THE LONG THINGY-THING

-huh. Loop reacted kinda weirdly to the kid's doodle

-hey what if i gave Isa the flower at the end?

-FUCK I FORGOT THE FUCKING ROCK I GOT TOO COMFY. this is embarrassing

-hey hold up the theme that plays when everybody's discussing the country in the library is the same song that plays when Loop is recapping things

-hold up. the King was in Corbeaux. Corbeaux is where the House doing the color research is.

-took the photo. PERFECTLY FROZEN IN TIME

-oh fuck

-calling Loop

-hm. the star-shaped gate that's locked. is the passcode the name of Siffrin and the King's home?

-we're gonna use a bomb i guess

-i asked the King where he's from and uh... now a slowed-down version of the song is playing...

-what the fuck

-Sif and the King are going to die, aren't they?

-"BUT IT'S ALL GONE!"

-i'm going to loop forward and try to talk to the King. again.

-*sighs* the peel is so dorky

-FUCK I FORGOT TO EQUIP THE MEMORY OF KNIFEKEY

-wait. asking him nicely. FUCKING WORKED???

-"The Universe leads... we can only follow"

-FUCK. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. OF COURSE. OF COURSE. OF COURSE. GO FUCK YOURSELF.

-so the King knows about the loops, even though he can't remember them.

-"Wish Craft" :0

-WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO.

-BONNIE NO

-NO NO NO NO UNHAND THEM

-BONNIE NO BONBON NO

-okay. i looped back. Bonnie is okay again. i just need to kill the King.

-hold the fuck up. it says i'm in Act 4. bad things mark the end of acts. Act 1 ended with me getting in the loops. Act 2 ended with killing the King failing. Act 3 ended with...?

-please don't let Bonnie be dead somehow

-THEY'RE OKAY THEY'RE OKAY

-...the little moments of time rewinding seem to correlate with Sif wishing to go back

-:O I CAN READ THE BOOKS NOW

-THE GATE. OH FUCK YEAH

-fucking hell when did i get (Just attack) because DAMN. Sif is so fucking done with everything.

-WISH CRAFT

-i just fumkign one-shot the Nostalgie on floor 1. "just attack" indeed

-"you need a break" :(

-Sif is like constantly teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown

-let's see how well they do against a boss

-DAMN

-ok so what the fuck was Euphrasie doing before shit hit the fan? and why does she blame herself for Siffrin's situation?

-i just realized something funny. if Vaugarde is fantasy France. and Siffrin and the King are from an island north of Vaugarde. DOES THAT MAKE SIFFRIN FANTASY BRITI- *gets shot*

-gate time.

-what was the question? what was the answer?

-"couldn't i just create another me? someone who'd understand?" ok so somebody's a clone got it.

-Loop? i should talk to Loop

-ok i guess i'll have to be like "hey Loop are you a clone?" in person (plot twist Sif's a clone :P)

-"i saw a weird shade" WAIT HOLD UP YEAH THAT'S SUS THAT SIFFRIN FUCKING SAW RED. OK THAT WAS DIAGETIC. FIRST COLOR IN THE WHOLE GAME.

-gonna kill the King again, talk to Loop, then loop again forward to Floor 2 to read the color theory book

-WAIT SIFFRIN HASN'T CRIED ONCE THIS WHOLE GAME BITCH REPRESSION IS NOT HEALTHY!

-"especially if she knows" Sif. did you forget Odile's name. OH FUCK

-"HOW BLINDINGLY WONDERFUL, FOR A ROLL OF TOILET PAPER TO BE THE ONLY HOPE YOU HAVE LEFT RIGHT NOW!" this would be so funny if not for the context

-"you wish for eternity" WAIT HOLD UP

-SIFFRIN IS USING WISH CRAFT. AND WHEN THEY PRAY TO THE CHANGE GOD STATUES THEY SEND THEIR WISHES. ARE THE BUFFS AND THE KEYKNIFE THE RESULT OF WISH CRAFT?

-hey Siffrin uses a more shy and sad portrait for the 'thank you' afterwards now :(

-FUCK I FORGOT TO SHARPEN THE KNIFE

-y'know what it's fine i have the bomb

-hey Sif i think what happened last time might've uh. traumatized you? ;-;

-welp. i used the bomb. it was anticlimactic.

-"i wonder how this country looks from the outside" *proceeds to imply that the time loop only affects Vaugarde* hold the fucking phone

-ok tho srsly Siffrin is in what looks like *extreme* duress

-oh damn Sif has different portraits for the 'you should disappear' bit. less smug and determined, more... *haunted*

-dang, can't give Isa the flower at the end

-*sigh* gonna talk to her again

-"the actor has become the director"

-there's a lot more theatre comparisons than there used to :(

-woah Siffrin you are weirdly enthusiastic to see Loop

-time to loop forward to read the books woooo

-Sif i am very concerned about this dialogue portrait. your enthusiasm is *desperate*

-hey something funny: people wish on stars

-this game has a LOT of motifs i love: wishes, stars, time, memories, etc.

-hm... what is Siffrin's 'ritual' when doing the wish-y thing?

-:0 a wish is trapping Siffrin?

-what if they're actually being trapped by their own desires or smth? like some sort of- WAIT. WHAT IF LOOP IS TRAPPING THEM SOMEHOW???

-i am in conspiracy mode i think

-moving forward to get to the library

-Siffrin is now level 85...

-maybe a wish is how the island disappeared?

-FAVOR TREE IS WISH CRAFT WOOOOOOOO

-i think the way Sif wished was from something they learned as a kid

-3, 6, 7, 13, all are numbers with significance

-HEY LOOP LOOK WHAT I LEARNED

-welp time to die ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-ok what is in that one house in the main part of Dormont

-hm. Euphrasie was apparently asking everybody what they wished for. she probably realized something tied to Wish Craft was wrong...

-maybe the list in Euphrasie's office cataloguing the names was categorizing based on wishes?

-looping forward

-"you're a living comedy sketch"

-my guess is that the wishing to save Vaugarde enabled Siffrin to loop so they could defeat the King, but something went horribly wrong, thus causing the loops to keep going

-ugh i need to talk in person. tear time!

-a sped-up version of the happy song after you beat the King is playing and Siffrin has the desperate enthusiasm portrait...

-Siffrin, you already tried saving Vaugarde.

-"maybe you don't loop because you die... but because you feel like there would be no reason to go on, maybe?" makes sense to me. Siffrin doesn't have anything to look forward to after defeating the King.

-"something that, to you, feels on the same level of hopelessness as death? on the same level as the world ending?" me when the time loop wants me to get therapy:

-hey Sif you just looped. right in front of Loop.

-looping forward to the King.

-Odile's realizing she's missing something. too bad she'll forget it. maybe i should try making the others really suspicious of me on a future loop

-"please don't interrupt" :(

-this game has me constantly on some variety of edge and i love it

-maybe this time Isa will get to confess?

-the static is starting and i haven't even talked to Euphrasie

-damn i did a minor loop back :(

-talking to her won't work. it can't work.

-STOP SAYING THE SAME DAMN THING STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT

-I WAS RIGHT AS TO HOW EXACTLY SIF GOT STUCK

-the wish is broken. MAYBE IF I DO SOMETHING ELSE MAYBE IF HE'S DEFEATED SOME OTHER WAY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

-OH FUCK. so Sif's current theory is that somehow he has to deal the final blow

-"You just need to defeat the King on your own" BUT YOU NEED THE OTHERS TO DEFEAT HIM?

-also damn the way Siffrin's thoughts spiral into a mess is a mood.

-i am now in Act 5.

-:( the Dormont music is slow now

-Sif's portrait in the menus has changed again, there is nothing in the body text of his profile, and their title is now "The Lost One" :(

-wait. the Change God statue is glitchy now and i can't get buffs there anymore

-Sif is like perpetually pissed off

-aaaand now Mira's upset

-Sif is going to fuck things up with the others as well, won't they?

-i think Odile's gonna figure out that Sif is in a time loop

-i feel like i'm in a horror game right now. well. i've felt like that for a while. but i am fucking terrified of Siffrin right now. Siffrin you need help please they only want to help you you can't bottle up everything or it only ends up worse

-the battle theme is slowed...

-sometime i should write a crossover fanfic where Rose Lalonde picks apart Siffrin, i think it would go very interestingly

-unrelated but i just realized Isa has a hair banana hehehe... i need to cling to levity while in this hell

-uh. dude. why is your dialogue looping

-SIFFRIN! I. I KNOW YOU'RE STRUGGLING BUT ALL THEY WANT TO DO IS HELP YOU AND YOU KEEP HURTING THEM PLEASE THEY ONLY WANT TO HELP YOU I KNOW VULNERABILITY IS HARD BUT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE THEY'VE BEEN *TRYING* AND THEY'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT KINDA TO YOU AND IT HURTS TO SEE THIS SIFFRIN BECAUSE YOU KEEP GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AND IT'S TERRIFYING!

-fuck man this game is getting me to care so much about this guy. Mental Illness Simulator 2023

-the irony of Sif calling Isa a coward who projects confidence but not backing it up... Siffrin is projecting.

-and yet despite all that... Isa still ended the conversation rather kindly ToT

-Loop seems really unsure and yeah. past me would not believe this but i am siding with the starheaded bitch.

-...Loop fucking LIED

-Sif is going alone

-oh dear the music

-most of the memories are gone. and the skills...

-level 99

-wait the room layout is fucked

-a Sif ghost but with a black hat instead

-"you're hungry" :(

-so. i think Sif just hallucinated his party members.

-"your stomach hurts. you feel cold." :(

-the world is glitching and breaking haha and i am scared i'm scared i'm scared Siffrin *please*

-how is the photo event occurring if i'm on my own?

-*oh no*

-ok brb i need to take a break

-ok back from my break and refreshed! now i can go back to Siffrin's Descent Into Hell

-entered Mira's room. her hallucination did the "head is covered in darkness creepily" thing...

-Odile...

-i'm in the Keyknife room except now the background is the post-King fight background...

-the feeling of the grim march towards a specific goal reminds me of the Undertale genocide route haha...ha...ha... ...

-stomachache, headache, and the smell of sugar...

-no more running, only a slow, slow, walk to the end

-"you've trapped this country in time even more surely than i have" oh fuck

-not often that a game makes me terrified enough for me to feel my heartbeat...

-red.

-his sprite is on the game over?

-where the FUCK am i?

-spooky shadow Siffrin

-OOO DO I GET TO FIGHT A MANIFESTATION OF SIFFRIN'S MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES?

-hm what does mal du pays mean- oh :( it translated to homesickness :(

-you can't fight your own shadow

-"it's not like you haven't let me die before, right?" *OH FUCK*

-you broke your promise didn't you?

-red

-dude i think the depression is collecting its due. loops and loops of bottling your shit up has been unhealthy and now you are paying for it :(

-"if something has been forgotten by everyone, has that thing ever existed?" FUCK

-red

-more red

-BRIGHT RED

-if i had a nickel for every rpg i liked where a monochrome manifestation of the main character's mental illness taunted him in a scripted fight, i'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. bonus: the dialogue box calls Mal du Pays 'something'! oh and both games open with a content warning i guess

y'know maybe the fact i found out about this game from a blogger that i followed for Omori stuff should've been some sort of indicator.

-"the sadness within you is right" FUCK

-OH GOOD SIF DIDN'T DIE THE FAMILY CAME TvT

-"a weird shiny person helped us!" LOOP :D

-AND THE MUSIC IS UPBEAT OH THIS FEELS SO GOOD TvT

-IT HAS THE TITLE SCREEN MOTIF TOO

-i'l have to look up the song later and compare to other themes but i think it might be a medley/remix? i've definitely identified the post-King fight theme and the title theme, probably more i can't clearly identify

-everybody's battle portraits are so bright and happy

-"i still cannot remember its name" :(

-damn. he froze. womp womp

-ok but what about Loop? what's going on with them?

-glitchy background...

-i'm on Act 5. aren't there like 6 acts? idk maybe this can end and Sif can move forward. then again... the last few times. that did not work out.

-haha Sif pls don't die on us rlly tho pls don't

-so slow...

-RED...

-Mal du Pays is following us

-FUCK

-*exhales* ok the darkness is gone

-is it weird that i kinda like this moment more than the moments of closeness with the others in Act 3? maybe cuz it feels more real, somehow... or because for once, Siffrin is the one being vulnerable...

-i think the problem was sticking to the script and treating the others like actors or well... NPCs

-FUCK FUCK FUCK NO NO NO DON'T YOU DARE GO INTO GLITCHY MODE.

-FUCK

-now that they're here they know something is wrong.

-please game please grant Siffrin one small mercy and let the others loop back with him this time

-RED

-uhhhhhhhh

-Sif did you just become your weird sadness self

-woah this is a beautiful scene

-WOAH. now THIS is a battle! and it is *beautiful*. the red and the stars...

-oh fuck. my options are hurt them or self-harm.

-wait are they HEALING ME? :(

-the battle menu simply refers to Siffrin as 'user'

-JGJRJENNDNRJE LMAO ODILE JUST PULLED A CLASSIC MOM MOVE LIKE "don't you dare storm up to your room earlier in time, young man!"

-forced group therapy

-oh, Siffrin's portrait

-i HATE that my options are hurt my friends or hurt myself. and i refuse to let Siffrin hurt their friends. it's... heartbreaking...

-chat i don't think the wish the player chooses was Siffrin's *actual* wish

-:0 hatless Siffrin

-AWWWW THEY'RE HUGGING

-aw... smiling Sif... hugging Bonnie :]

-:0 EVERYBODY IS SO HAPPY IN THE MENU!

-"It's you!!!!" also hey Sif's title is "The Traveler" again!

-"you will stay together for a little while longer" :]

-i love how the lack of hat makes the fact that Siffrin is really short apparent lol

-these new conversations are precious :]

-Odile thinks the fact that Sif loved everybody so much they got himself stuck in a time loop to be cute XD

-NO WAY. IS THIS FINALLY HAPPENING. IS HE FINALLY GONNA SAY IT?

-HELL FUCKING YES!!!!!!!!

-ok i just talked to all the housemaidens and Dormont residents. time to talk to Loop

-...

-maybe Loop was just. a manifestation of the wish...

-:0 THE SILVER COIN? ARE WE GONNA FINSLLY USE THE SILVER COIN?

-TvT

-I BEAT THE GAME :D

-:o Siffrin is no longer on the title screen

[missmaniac25]

Kim Hongjoong - Quiet Please

Librarian!Hongjoong x gn!reader (no use of y/n) Pure fluff 1.7k words No warnings. Please let me know if there's any spelling or grammar errors. Enjoy! ✨

---

“Staring at the door isn’t going to make them arrive any faster.”

Hongjoong glares at Seonghwa.

“I’m not waiting for anyone.”

“Hmm, sure.”

The head librarian walks off to help a patron who’s appeared at the counter, leaving Hongjoong to look at the entrance of the library in peace.

‘Any moment now…’

~

Moving to a small town had not been a part of your big life plan. But the world works in mysterious ways and for five months now, you’d been happily enjoying the calmness of your new life.

The only disadvantage of a small town?

Minimal entertainment.

Sure, you could go for a walk or… something else. That was really it.

And that’s how after a month of living here, you’d ventured into the community library just to see if they had anything to keep you busy: stories or otherwise.

“Hello,” the man behind the counter had greeted. “Let me know if you need any assistance.”

“Just browsing for now, thank you,” you answered.

He nodded and gone back to clicking away on his computer – doing librarian stuff, you guessed.

For a while, you simply wandered through the forest of shelves, stopping every now and then to read the blurb on the back of a book.

“Excuse me.”

You turned from the shelf to find a timid looking man standing behind you. He wore a very cosy looking cardigan and a pair of glasses were perched on his nose. Almost out of place, you noticed, were the number of piercings that adorned his ears.

“Can I assist you?” He was already holding a mountain of books in his arms which made you smile.

“No thank you, I’m ok for now.”

You noted how his face flushed pink as he started to turn away.

“Actually.” You managed to catch him before he left. You gripped the book you’d picked up closer to your chest. “I’d like to get a library card. Is that something that you can help me with?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave you a shy smile and abandoned his stack of novels on the nearest flat surface. “Please follow me to the front.”

Happily, you did as he asked and waited patiently as he took all you information.

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” you said when he finally handed over your new card.

“Um, yeah, no problem. How did you know my name?”

You almost laughed but managed to hold it in.

“Your nametag.”

“Oh.”  He glances down as if he suddenly remembered that he had one. “Right.”

“See you guys soon,” you told him before leaving. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Hongjoong watched as you went and felt how his heart finally started to calm down.

“You’re smitten already,” came the voice of Seonghwa, and Hongjoong gave him a gentle shove.

“Am not.”

“Are too.” The older man said. “Luckily for you, they have to come back to hand in the book eventually.”

~

Since that day, you’d made it habit to pop into the library at least once a week and your favourite librarian is always there to greet you when you walk in.

Today is no exception.

“Hi, Hongjoong!” you cheerfully say, placing your books on the countertop.

“Good afternoon.” He smiles before getting to work. “I tried that recipe you gave me. It was really good.”

“Do you want to know a secret?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow.

“Sure…” he says hesitantly.

“I got it out of a book from here.”

His eyes sparkle with pride and amusement.

“No wonder it was so good.”

Hongjoong looks a little bit smug as he takes your books to pack away on the shelves.

With one last glance, you turn to go and begin the search for your next big fictional adventure. You wave hello to whoever you meet along the way, weaving through the shelves and ending up in a quiet nook where hardly anyone goes to.

After scouring the spines, you find a book that captures your attention. Taking it with you, you settle into the window seat that you’ve unofficially claimed as your own. Almost a whole chapter has gone by when you feel another presence in the vicinity. Glancing up, you find Hongjoong quietly sorting some books – putting them back into the correct order on the shelf.

Admittedly, you had developed a teeny, tiny crush on him. It couldn’t be helped, really. Not only was he kind, had a gorgeous smile and a good sense of humour; he just made you curious. If you could just get to know him a little better…

“I didn’t think that shelf sorting was so interesting.”

Hongjoong’s voice pulls you out of your daze and reality hits you: you’ve been staring at him.

“Oh… it’s not really.” You’re trying to think quickly and come up with an excuse. “I was just…”

“Lost in thought?” He offers and you nod.

“Something like that.”

The librarian smiles, almost bashfully, returning to his work.  You take the hint and stick your nose back in between the pages – not that you get much more reading done with him around.

Hongjoong is back working the front desk when you finally emerge from your nook.

“Only one book today?” He asks, scanning the barcode.

“What can I say, it’s captivated me.” You give a little shrug.

“You captivate me.”

The two of you lock eyes. Hongjoong looks utterly bewildered – he can’t believe those words just left his mouth.

“I… um… sorry.” He quickly looks down and hurriedly hands back your book and library card. He scurries off to the staff room before you have a chance to reply.

You think of nothing else but what he said as you walk home that evening.

When you next return to library, Hongjoong is nowhere to be seen. It’s Seonghwa who greets you when you come in and it’s Seonghwa who scans your books out when you leave.

You want to assume that it was just coincidence. Maybe Hongjoong is sick? Maybe he’s helping other patrons?

That was what you believed until it happened again. And again.

“Seonghwa, where is Hongjoong?” You finally ask after the third visit. It hard to keep the frustration out of your voice.

The head librarian looks a little frustrated himself, if only for a second, before returning to a look of neutrality as he speaks.

“He’s hiding in the staffroom. Every time he sees you coming, he rushes in there like a rabbit being hunted.”

With a soft sigh, you thank Seonghwa and begin the walk to your corner of the library with one thing on your mind: he’s avoiding you.

The news hurts more than you’d like it too; pulling at your chest. When you reach your window seat, there’s a note sitting neatly on the cushion. It has your name on it. Uncertainly, you open it.

‘I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I didn’t mean to say it. Can we still be friends?’

The ache in your chest softens ever so slightly but it doesn’t disappear completely. You tuck the little piece of paper safely into your pocket.

When you return to the front desk with a new set of books to take home, you feel a wave of relief. Hongjoong is there. He briefly looks up, locking eyes with you before swiftly turning his gaze down again. You also see Seonghwa giving you a little nod before he vanishes between the shelves like some kind of novel magician.

You realise that you owe him one.

“I got your note” you tell Hongjoong, waiting for him to meet your eye.

He shuffles on his feet.

“Are… are we still friends?”

“Yeah,” you tell the shy librarian. “We’re still friends.”

He smiles and finally he lifts his eyes.

“Thank you.”

Things go back to normal after that. Well, mostly normal. What’s new is that every time you step foot into the building and see Hongjoong, your heart beats a little faster.

What was once a playful little crush is now a problem.

“This book, I think you’ll like it,” Hongjoong says, leaning past you to reach the shelf where it sits. The proximity is suffocating.

“It’s a bit of an older one but it has content that I think you’ll enjoy.”

Your fingers brush against his as you take the book from his hand. Your head knows not to read into it; your heart is doing backflips.

“I’ll give it a chance,” you say.

“Just like that?” Hongjoong asks, grinning. “You trust my opinion that much?”

“Yes. I trust you that much.”

If he notices the change of words, Hongjoong makes no motion to acknowledge it. Instead, he continues with idle chit-chat – telling you about different stories he’s read and the authors he likes. He says something about liking romance novels and your brain wakes up.

“Hongjoong.”

The man in front of you stops talking and looks at you with wide eyes.

“I was wondering.” You try your hardest to keep calm. “Would you maybe like to meet up? Outside of the library, I mean?”

The quietness is infuriating. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears; the dull crackle of the ceiling lights.

“Like a date?” Hongjoong breaks the silence, pink creeping up his neck.

“Yes,” you confirm. “Like a date.”

You think he’s going to turn you down – the pause is too long for the answer to be anything else.

“Ok, yeah.” He says with a little smile. “I’d like to go on a date with you.”

There’s life around you again – you hear people talking, birds outside chirping. Your heart is still beating fast but now it’s from excitement.

“Great!” You pull your phone out and hand it to him. “Let me get your number and we can make a plan.”

Hongjoong doesn’t need to be told twice. Before you know it, you have your device back and you peak at his contact name.

‘Hongjoong 📖’

‘Cute,’ you think to yourself.

The two of you walk to the front desk together, a little giddy, which doesn’t go unnoticed. Once you have your books, you wave goodbye to your favourite librarian with the promise to message him soon.

“It’s about time.”

Hongjoong jumps in his skin as Seonghwa appears next to him.

“You two were driving me insane.”

Hongjoong just shakes his head. It doesn’t matter what the head librarian says: he’s going on a date with you and he hopes that it’s the start of a beautiful story of his own.

[bjfinn]

ALPHABET SOUP

"Hey, Lyds?" Beej said from the doorway. "Can I ... can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Lydia put her book down and sat up on the bed. "What is it?"

Beej looked down at his feet, his hair turning magenta. "I, uh ... I was wondering ..." He blew out his cheeks in a long sigh. "I was just ... uhh, can you ... I mean, it's not important, but ... would you ..." He shook his head. "No, never mind," he said. "Sorry to bother you. It's a dumb idea." He turned to leave.

Lydia, concerned, quickly got to her feet and went over to him, and she put a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him around to face her. "Hey, what's up?"

The demon shook his head again. "It doesn't matter -- it's not important."

"It's important enough that you came to ask me," she said. "I'm your friend, Beej. I'm your little sister. If you need something, you can ask."

Beej nodded. "Yeah, I-I know." He took a deep breath. "Can you ... can you teach me how to read?"

Lydia smiled as she gathered him in her arms, hugging him tightly. After a moment she released him and put both hands on his shoulders. "Of course I will," she said. "At least I can try -- I've never taught anybody to read before."

He smiled self-consciously, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Can I ask you something?"

Beej nodded.

"How come you never learned? I mean, you're like six hundred years old -- and I know you know the alphabet. Or at least the names of the letters, even if you don't know what order they're in."

Beej shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I tried, but ... it's just so hard. I-it doesn't make sense to me. I mean, how can a mark on a piece of paper represent a sound?"

"You know how to draw, right? How can a picture represent a thing?"

"That's different," he said. "You use your eyes to see both the thing and the picture. And the picture looks like the thing -- at least, it's supposed to. But words and letters don't look like what they sound like -- sounds don't look like anything, do they? And sometimes words aren't spelled the way you think they should be. It's just waaay too complicated."

"You're right," Lydia said. "It's not easy. But it's not impossible. I'll ... pick up some kids' books at the library on my way home from school tomorrow, and we can get started."

The demon smiled shyly. "Okay," he said. "And Lydia? Thanks."

She hugged him again. "Hey, you're my BFFFF -- how can I say no?"

*****

"All right," Lydia said. "Let's start with the alphabet. Do you know the song?"

"What song?" Beej asked.

"The Alphabet Song."

Beej shook his head. "Never heard of it."

"It's an easy way to remember the order of the letters."

"Okay," Beej said, looking dubious. "And why is that important?"

Lydia's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure, exactly. But everyone learns the song in kindergarten."

"Wait, what? You breathers learn stuff and you don't even know why it's important?"

"It's probably important -- they just don't tell us why." She thought for a moment. "Well, it's important for using dictionaries -- every dictionary has the same order, so you can find what you want easily."

"Okay, yeah -- that makes sense, I guess."

Lydia smiled, pleased that she had been able to come up with a plausible reason that satisfied the demon.

"All right," she said. "So this is the Alphabet Song." She began to sing in her soft, clear voice. Beej closed his eyes and listened, smiling and nodding to the beat.

"Okay," she said when she'd finished. "Now let's sing it together -- and no cheating."

"Hey, I don't cheat!"

"I mean you can't pick up on my thoughts like you do when you're jamming with Dewey. You have to try to remember the song on your own, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Beej scowled. "You know, you're one tough cookie."

"You got that right, pal," she grinned. "All right -- ready?"

Beej nodded.

Lydia began the song anew, and this time the demon joined in. He stumbled several times, but Lydia was happy that he did -- it meant that he wasn't reading her mind.

"That was hard," Beej said when it was over.

"It gets easier, I promise."

"Yeah, I know," he smiled, his hair bright green.

"Okay," she said. "Now you sing it by yourself."

His hair flashed magenta. "I-I ... I don't ..." he stammered.

"Come on -- you can do it. And it's okay if you make a mistake -- that's how learning works, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. Okay." And he began the song, his raspy voice quavering. He got as far as "E", and then a look of panic crossed his face. "Umm ... uhhh ..."

"It's okay," Lydia said gently, putting her hand on his. "Take your time."

He squeezed his eyes shut, and Lydia could almost see smoke coming out of his ears.

"F! " he shouted. "F is next!"

Lydia grinned. "Very good! Okay, keep it going."

Emboldened, Beej continued the song. "G, H, I, M, Q --"

"Let's try again," Lydia said. "What comes after 'I'?"

"Uhh ... I don't know," the demon replied. He screwed up his face in frustration, his hair becoming a mix of purple and red. "I can't remember!"

"It's okay," Lydia told him. "Just slow down and take your time. You can do this -- you sang it with me just before. Don't overthink it -- you can remember if you just let it come."

Beej nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay, yeah," he said. "Uhh ... G, H, I ... J! 'J' comes after 'I' 'cause it has that little tail!" He grinned happily, his hair green once more, and started to sing again. "H, I, J, K ... uhh ..."

"This is the fun part," Lydia prompted.

"Oh, yeah -- I remember! LMNOP! Umm ... uh ... oh! Q, R, S, T, U, V ... uhh ... a double chocolate fudge cake just for me!"

Lydia laughed. "Now you're just being silly!"

Beej grinned. "Just tryna lighten things up a little. W, X, Y and Z. Now I know my ABCs, next time won't you sing with me. I did it! "

Lydia applauded him. "You did -- I'm very proud of you."

Beej's hair turned cotton-candy pink. "Thanks," he said.

"Okay," Lydia said. "Now for the reading part." She picked up a slim book. On the cover was a red "A" beside an apple, a blue "B" with a bee, and a green "C" on a chair. She opened the book and patted the bed.

Beej sat down beside her, looking at the page.

"Okay," Lydia said. "What's this letter?"

"A," the demon said.

Lydia nodded.

"Uhh ... why do letters have two shapes?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at it -- there's this big one with straight lines, and then there's this little curvy one. I know they're the same letter, but I don't get why there's two ways to write it."

"I ... I really don't know," she admitted. "I never thought about it. But that's a really good question."

Beej grinned, happy that he'd stumped his BFFFF -- she'd outwitted him time and time again, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she thought he wasn't very smart. But he'd come up with a question that not only couldn't she answer, but had never even thought of!

"Anyway, A is for ..." she began, pointing to the drawing beside the letter.

"Apple," Beej answered. "Why is it called 'A' if it's pronounced 'ah'? Why not call it 'Ah'? Or why not say 'aypple' instead of 'apple'?"

Lydia looked at him. "Well, uh ... letters can represent different sounds. 'A' can be pronounced 'ay' or 'ah' or 'aw' --"

"That's stupid," the demon said. "Why not just make a different letter for each sound? Seems to me like that would make reading easier."

"Yeah, you're right -- it would," she admitted.

"That's why reading is so hard for me. It doesn't make any sense."

Lydia chuckled. "It doesn't, does it? But that's the way it is, so we just have to go with it." She smiled gently. "I guess this was the best people could come up with."

Then a thought occurred to her. "Can you read Netherworld writing?"

Beej shook his head, his hair turning purple. "My mom said that I wouldn't be able to learn to read since I was so stupid and useless. She said that it would ... it would be a waste of time to try and teach me." He began to cry softly.

Lydia's heart broke a little. "Well, she was wrong," she said firmly. "You're not stupid and useless -- you just came up with two questions that I've never even thought of! That's not something a stupid and useless person would be able to do." She set the book aside and took his face in her hands. "I promise that I'm going to teach you to read -- no matter how long it takes, okay? We'll show her!"

Beej chuckled through his tears. "She's dead, remember? I killed her for good."

"Then we'll show everybody else." She picked up the book again. "Now, let's continue, shall we?"

[vampiresdontbelonginfairytales]

In two minds as to whether to post this because I HOPE I'm going to do a comic arc of it.

But since I'm currently incredibly slow to do comics and also because I spent the last three days solid on it... Here it is.

But I guess if you'd rather see it in comic form and care about spoilers then don't read it?

EDIT: I wrote a follow up scene and then I wrote a follow up scene to the follow up scene and... Long story short, or rather, short story long, it's a book manuscript now. I've got 18k words so far

No book spoilers though! (The current book is coming along very well but isn't quite ready). << EDIT: this refers to a different book that is close to a final draft

----

“Um... I d-don’t have a l-lot, but...” Victor held out the canvas bag. The three of them had agreed to do a book swap, or rather, a manga swap. Lucinda had been bringing books to Fairyland for Will, as books were somewhat hard to come by, and she had offered to bring him books too. Victor, having no idea what books he wanted, not being savvy on the selection of Earth books available, and not daring to do such a bold, daring thing as taking a friend up on an offer, hadn’t asked for any yet. Hettie was positively itching to get her hands on Lucinda’s manga – “As the Otherworlds’ first magical girl, it is positively my duty!” – and Victor had some manga too. Only a few volumes... The yokai peddlers only had a small selection that passed inspection by his mother.

Lucinda sat cross-legged on the floor after taking the bag, and had plonked two of her own on the rug. They were in one of the guest parlours, little drawing rooms that were previously for nobles to sit and relax in, but were in the process of being turned into bedrooms and common rooms for the expected magical school students. This one needed very little doing at it, and had become their hangout area. There were comfy couches and a little table and trolley for drinks and snacks. Victor had brought them some tea – books weren’t the only thing he’d picked up from his brief visit home – and it was rapidly cooling as the girls were far too excited by the manga to worry about little things like staying hydrated.

“Oooh this is really rare!” Lucinda picked up one of the more battered copies with a pair of girls on the cover; one with bright pink hair, the other with an equally striking shade of purple. “It never came out in the UK at all, and in the US it was this limited run tied in to the anime they decided to air at like, 5am on a Saturday morning, so it never got a big following and never got reprinted in English. I swear sometimes they WANT shows to fail.”

“I... didn’t understand most of what you said. Sorry, it’s what?” Hettie looked up from where she was already a good chunk into volume 1 of something called Sailor Moon. “I understood ‘rare’ and then you might as well have said ‘and the hoop-de-doo sqoodled the squaddle’.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Lucinda stayed quiet for a minute before rephrasing. “They only printed a small number of these in English because the television show version of it wasn’t popular. And it was never printed in my country at all.”

“Ah.” Hettie sighed wistfully. “Oh to have print runs available. We just get whatever the yokai peddlers have with them. It’s pretty erratic. You’re lucky if you can get more than four or five volumes of a set. Sometimes they have really big sets of one thing, but they’re so expensive.”

“I guess I am pretty lucky to be able to find as much as I can,” Lucinda reflected. “They even have manga in the library.”

“You have to stop, you’re making me far too jealous!” Hettie held a hand out dramatically.

“Um,” Victor interjected. “They have m-manga in the library here, too.”

“They do?!” both girls chorused.

“A lot of it is um... e-embarrassing...” Victor had a very low tolerance for what Hettie had informed him was called ‘fanservice’ but some of the stuff he’d seen must be the sort of service where someone takes a bullet for you and then takes your would-be assassin out with them while apologising that they won’t be able to get your supper ready on time for once as they are unfortunately dying, rather inconsiderately, without two weeks’ notice.

Hettie and Lucinda looked at each other.

“I’m not about to be put off by a bit of embarrassment, are you?” Hettie asked.

“Not a chance.” Lucinda hesitated. “Well, okay. Some chance. But.” They both turned to Victor.

“Lead the way?” Hettie suggested. “Or you can just give us rough directions if you prefer.”

“I’ll c-come with you.” Victor was not about to lose out on time with Lucinda over a few drawings, no matter how embarrassing they were.

“H-here it is...” Victor waved vaguely at the two aisles.

After a few minutes of pulling out volumes at random – and hastily putting some of them back – the girls were a little deflated.

“Are they all in Japanese?” Lucinda asked. “I’m trying to learn but I can just about say what my name is, greet people and count to one hundred. I can read maybe five kanji and some katakana.”

Victor frowned. “Yes? I think. B-but...”

Hettie sighed. “That’s really too bad. Perhaps we could ask your snow woman friend to translate?”

“I don’t want to ask her to do her job for free...” Lucinda replied.

“Um.” Victor pulled the nearest volume out a little, checked it, and pulled it all the way out. He flipped to what in a Western comic would be the back. “Did you check the front? There’s a lot of translation notes and things.”

Lucinda held up a finger. “I did not.” She pulled out another manga and instead of turning to the middle she checked front and back. “Oh. It’s not the type of translation I’m used to, but this’ll work.” She put the random volume back and started searching for the first one of the series.

“It’s silly, really. I should have realised the large yokai population here would have donated something to the library,” Hettie chided herself. “I can’t believe I never looked before. There must be several doors to Japan here.”

Lucinda looked up suddenly. “I. Wow. I never thought of that. Do you think so?”

“It stands to reason?” Hettie theorised. “The queen must know a door, at least.”

“I can’t believe all this time and I never... Do you want to go to Japan?”

“What, now?” Hettie asked. “Right now?”

“It should be possible, right?” Lucinda said, eyes shining. “Although...” Her face fell. She bit the end of her thumb as she thought. “I guess it will take a long time to get into the map room, and I’m kinda broke still...” She glanced over at Victor making him jump. “It’s kinda crowded in the cities, from what I know... That wouldn’t be good... But I don’t know if it would be harder in a small place, we’d be too conspicuous...” She slouched. “I guess we can’t after all... I got myself worked up for nothing.”

“You should go to Okazaki!” came a voice from the other side of the bookcase. There were footsteps, and Will leaned into view around the end of the aisle. “It’s a city, so it’s got all the stuff you’re probably looking for, but it’s really quiet. As long as you don’t go during commuter times, you’ll practically have the pavements to yourself.”

“Okazaki?” Lucinda repeated. “Where’s that?”

“It’s near Nagoya. Aichi Prefecture.”

“I’m sorry to say that doesn't mean anything to me,” Lucinda admitted, rubbing the back of her head. “We’d still need a door map though, and, well, a bunch of stuff. I don’t have any yen, for a start.”

Will waved a hand . “You don’t need to worry about any of that,” he said. “Wait here.”

The three of them exchanged a look. Lucinda and Hettie browsed the manga while they waited, pulling out the odd volume and looking back and forth between the translations and the pages. It was pretty difficult. They weren’t intended to be read in the aisle. Victor had borrowed a few of them and you needed a desk to spread them out on.

It wasn’t long before Will returned, holding an envelope and a piece of white paper, with a much folded look about it. Paper, not parchment.

“Here you go!” He beamed. “Just make sure you go when it’s not right before or after school, and you should be fine.” Lucinda unfolded the paper and all three of them peered at it.

“Door locations?” Hettie asked.

“I came via Okazaki to Fairyland,” Will explained. “I needed to make sure I had an escape route if something went wrong, but the doors you want are this one and this one.” He pointed at the one in the top right and the middle bottom. “Oh, and here.” He presented Lucinda with the envelope, holding the shortest end with a thumb on each corner.

Lucinda opened it. She gasped. “Does that say... ten thousand? Ten thousand yen?! And what’s this?” A large feather slid out with the bank note.

“It’s a feather. You’ll need it to get back here, so don’t lose it.” He pulled out a pencil from a pocket. “I’ll just make you some notes. You need to write the kanji for ‘gate’ in the air to open the return door.” He wrote the kanji next to the door. “It’s pretty easy. Oh and if you do lose the feather or something, THIS door here leads back to Stratford-upon-Avon. It’s quite a walk, to the door and from the door, like, maybe a full day of walking, but if you can’t get back here it’s the best option. I’ll give you my parents’ address. My mom is an Otherworlder, she can help you get home.” He scribbled the address on the back. “Oh and if things are bad in Okazaki for some reason... You can’t get the door to work or any other trouble, you go here.” He drew a star on the map. “Ask for Asakura Miho. She's the local Otherworlder concierge.”

“This... This is a lot of money isn’t it?” Lucinda asked.

“Not loads.” Will shook his head. “Only about £40.”

“Only?” Lucinda spluttered. “I can’t take this!”

“Sure you can!” Will grinned. “Look, you’ve brought me at least that amount in retail value of books, if not in second hand value. I was wondering how best to repay you for it.”

“But... ... I mean...” Lucinda hesitated. She stared long and hard at the note. Finally she said, “If it’s really okay... You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Positive.”

“Okay... Uh...” She looked round at the other two. “Who’s ready to go to Japan, I guess?”

The three of them made their way to the entry door. It was in the Northern Quarter of the capital; a gathering place for yokai.

“It should be... here!” Lucinda pushed on a patch of air and a slit appeared; a slice of blue sky and a rice paddy hung in the air, contrasting heavily with the brown walls of the tavern behind it. Lucinda let it close. Then she checked her phone. “It’s... about 9:10 in the morning. Will said avoid commuter times.” She bit her lip. “I think we should wait a bit longer to be safe.” She drummed her fingers on her arm. “I feel like I’ve forgotten something...”

“You waiting for the Okazaki door, kids?” a voice addressed them from above.

They looked up to see a yokai woman leaning out of the second story window. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips pouting.

“Yes?” Lucinda replied. “We were told to wait until the morning commute was over. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. It’s just... You’re going... like that?”

The parental tone and question was familiar to Victor as of late - his mother did not appreciate his change in wardrobe from the expected vampire evening dress to the everyday fairy tunics. The three of them looked down at themselves then at each other.

“Oh. Oh, I see what you mean,” Lucinda admitted. “We look like we’re going to a convention.” Lucinda had come straight from work and was in her prince outfit, Hettie was wearing one of her tea gowns and Victor was in a blue tunic and pants, tied at the ankle. “Not good for blending in.”

“L-let’s go change?” Victor suggested. “There’s p-plenty of time.”

“I’m not sure I have anything suitable...” Hettie said.

“D-don’t worry, Molly showed me where the clothes a-are for the f-fools, w-we can find something in there.”

“I think I still have some stuff from when I stayed here before,” Lucinda said. “I’ll check my old room while you do that.”

There were a few trunks of spare clothes in the servants’ quarters, mainly intended for fools but really for anyone who wanted them. Fairyland worked on a bartering system, so labour in the palace was exchanged for food, accommodation or occasionally other goods.

“Does this suit me? I think it’s a little big but beggars can’t be choosers...” She had found a wine red jumper; it was a solid colour with long sleeves that hung over the edge of her fingers. She pulled them back over her wrists, using a ribbon on the edges to tighten them.

Victor nodded. “I-it looks very nice. W-will these trousers fit you, d-do you think?” Hettie had also found a blue skirt, but it was a glaring mismatch, in both style and colour.

“Trousers?” Hettie took them uncertainly. “I, I really don’t know, I’ve never worn any before.”

“M-Miss Lucinda is often wearing them, e-even when she isn’t dressed for work,” Victor pointed out.

“Yes, must be nice not to have to worry about changing to come here,” Hettie observed. “Then again, I didn’t have to change when I visited her house. We pretended I worked for Rent-A-Legend too, which come to think of it, I actually did.”

“I’m a l-little jealous that y-you got to see Miss Lucinda’s house,” Victor admitted. He stopped short of asking what her room was like. That felt like spying, somehow.

“It was fun, Earth technology is incredible, a magic of its own... though it was incredibly nerve wracking... I had to keep Lucinda’s identity secret from her parents.” Hettie took the trousers and he turned away so she could change. “I doubt it will be as difficult out and about in a town setting.”

“W-were her parents nice?” Victor asked.

“I only spoke briefly to her mother to introduce myself, but she seemed nice,” Hettie replied. “You can turn around now. How do I look?”

“L-like you’re from Earth,” Victor replied. There were less options for him. Most of the clothing was dresses, or way too big for him. Maybe he would have to make do with his old clothes. He understood they were very old fashioned on Earth, but without his cravat and cape, he would at least look like an Earthling, if a slightly overdressed one.

“Any luck?” Hettie asked.

“No. I’ll h-have to wear my old clothes.” Victor pouted. “I sh-should get some Earth clothes s-sometime. B-but I d-don’t know how I’m going to. They’re s-so expensive a-and the peddlers never h-have anything my size.”

“Perhaps you can ask Lucinda for help?” Hettie suggested.

Victor shook his head. “I c-couldn’t do that.”

Hettie tilted her head to one side. “Whyever not?”

“I j-just... H-help how?”

“So you just automatically answered ‘I can’t’ without even thinking about it?”

“W-well, it j-just seems too imposing t-to ask for help,” Victor tried. “... What do you mean?”

“She literally lives there?” Hettie pointed out. “She offered to bring you books? It shouldn’t be that big a step up to help find some clothes. Maybe she knows some place you can get some cheap? Or she can ask Sara? You really won’t know unless you ask her.”

“B-but clothes are s-so c-complicated!” he protested.

“I don’t think they’re as complicated on Earth,” Hettie said. “Like I say, you won’t know if you don’t ask. Besides, Lucinda is your friend. I wish I could prove it to you that asking her for help isn’t a big deal.”

“N-no, i-it seems like t-too much...” He shook his head.

“Victor...” Her brow furrowed slightly, and Victor steeled himself for a lecture. She stared at him for a long moment before giving a short sigh. “Well, I for one plan to ask Sara where she gets her Earth clothes, so if find out anything useful I shall pass it along. I’m ready, so shall I wait for you here or at the gate?”

“Th-the gate,” Victor answered, relieved. “Please apologise t-to Miss Lucinda for me.”

When he had changed into his old things, he found one of the glassless windows that lined the upper corridors and launched himself out of it, becoming a bat in mid-air. He didn’t much like being a bat, but it would be faster than walking down and he didn’t want to make Lucinda wait any longer than he already had. He made a mental note to learn a new animal transformation spell as soon as possible. He had learned how to become a bat at about age seven, normally a little early for even a vampire to start learning magic, but the death of his father at the hands of a mob when he was six had made his mother keen to get him learning escape spells as soon as possible. He could also turn into mist. That wasn’t much fun either. The only real upside was that you were pretty much impossible to kill. Stay that way too long though, and you’d find your mind starting to dissipate too. It was like being in a dream. You had to force yourself awake again.

“H-here I am!” Victor said, turning back a little way above the ground and landing on his feet. “S-sorry for making you w-wait.”

“We’ve got plenty of time,” Lucinda reassured him. “And it’s definitely not commuting time now.”

“I was just telling Lucinda how difficult it was finding Earthling clothes for you,” Hettie said. “She says you can probably have a look in Okazaki.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what second-hand clothes they have in Japan,” Lucinda remarked, smiling at him. “I’m not expecting to find a shop full of kimonos or anything but there’s got to be some cool stuff, right?”

“O-oh. Um, r-right. Yes.” Victor shot his cousin A Look, but she just made a half shrug and a smirk that said ‘See?’.

It was impossible to be mad that she was correct about just asking, or as it seemed, just mentioning, and he spent the walk back to the Northern Quarter wondering what sort of clothes they would have and how they fit without a tailor. He was aware that they didn’t usually have tailors any more. They bought things ‘off the rack’. Maybe they bought everything a size too big and sewed it to fit themselves?

When they got to the door, they found the yokai woman from the tavern waiting there. She had it open the tiniest possible amount, sticking a fingernail in it to keep it from closing. She looked round as they approached.

“Much better.” She nodded approvingly. “I’m just waiting for my partner Mitsuki to get back with supplies. You go ahead... if you’re ready?”

“I think we are.” Lucinda hesitated. “Um. Do you have any other advice?” she asked as she tentatively put a hand on the door. “It’s our first time in Japan.”

“Don’t talk loudly in public, the doors SLIDE, do NOT cross the street when it’s red, you’re expected to pack your own shopping bags at the supermarket AWAY from the cashier, get a little hand towel each for public bathrooms - I recommend Daiso for that – don’t hand money to anyone directly, it’s bad luck, that’s what the little trays are for, oh and I hope you kids like mayonnaise because we put mayonnaise on everything.” The woman thought for a moment longer. “You know a return door, right? From your lack of luggage, I assume this is a day trip?”

Lucinda nodded. “We have a few options.”

“You got a feather?”

“Yes, we have a feather,” Lucinda reassured her.

“And you know the rules for going to and from Earth? It’s not like the other Otherworlds, you know that, right?”

“I’m from Earth, yes,” Lucinda replied.

“Oh. You’re more prepared than you looked.”

“I was just a bit overexcited and I tend to forget what I’m wearing,” Lucinda admitted.

“Off you go then,” the woman said. “Have fun. Try some dango.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Lucinda had just put her hand flat on the door when Hettie piped up suddenly;

“I completely forgot! I have a thing with Lolotte today!”

“You do?”

“Yes, I shall have to go immediately,” she announced. “Don’t want to be late.”

“Oh.” Lucinda took her hand off the door and turned round. “Oh, that’s too bad. We can go another day, then? Lolotte can always come with us?”

“No, no, I won’t hear of it!” Hettie protested, bodily turning Lucinda back to the door. “You and Victor go ahead! You went to the trouble of getting changed and everything. You can go and find all the fun places and show me next time. You’ll have more money between you, too.”

“I guess but... are you really sure? I do want to go but-“

“Then go.” She gave them both a bright smile. “You’ll be more inconspicuous without me, anyway. Much better for a first visit. Can’t be too careful.”

“But-“

“Must dash! See you later!” She gave them a little wave before turning into a panther and bounding away.

“Well... I guess we’re going then.” Lucinda scratched her head before smiling apologetically at the yokai woman. “If that’s okay? With just me?” She addressed this to Victor. Who almost didn’t hear her over the internal screaming.

“Th-that’s fine,” he replied, a little shocked to find he meant it.

Yes, he reassured himself. Fine. He was alone with Lucinda. Not a problem. It had ended horribly the last time, but fine. So it was his first visit to Earth. And not a ‘Western’ culture like he was used to at home. So he didn’t speak the local language. So what if he couldn’t use magic there. So what if there were humans all over the place?

“Okay. Just stick close to me and if it’s too busy we’ll turn back, all right?” Lucinda offered. “Will said it would be quiet, so I guess we’ll just see. I’m... a little bit scared, but at least I won’t be alone. I mean, I’ll still go alone, if you change your mind. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve been doing this for two years. I’ve been to scarier places than Japan, that’s for sure. The crime rate’s supposed to be really low. And there’s zero dragons.”

Victor considered this. They were stood in what was a foreign country to both of them right now. In Fairyland it was allowed to eat people who didn’t have a resident’s permit and there were at least two species of flower that killed you if you looked at them funny. And while he’d managed to shake off most of what he’d realised were his mother’s prejudices about humans, he was still nervous around strangers. To be fair, he was also nervous around any type of people, most animals, quite a lot of plants and the occasional rock. But objectively Japan was not scary.

“I-I’ll tell you i-if it’s too much,” he said. Oddly, it helped to know Lucinda was also a little scared. And that he was helping. He’d never helped someone else to not be scared before.

“Let’s go then.”

The yokai woman opened the door, looked around quickly, and tilted her head to indicate that they should indeed go. As they stepped through, a tanuki slipped past them the other way. They turned in surprise to see the tanuki take a human form, peering at them curiously as the door closed.

“Just some otaku kids-” they heard before the sound was cut off.

Victor looked around. He’d thought they were in the countryside but the rice paddy they’d seen through the door was next to a building... A few buildings. There was a row of houses behind them. A narrow, concrete road was painted with white stripes to serve as the pavement edge and some letters he couldn’t read.

“Oh. Uh. Wow. We’re actually really here.” Lucinda looked around at the scenery, shading her eyes from the sun. Though, the sun was nothing compared to her smile. She beamed at the scenery like it was a long lost treasure. She bounced on her heels with her hands clenched. “What should we do first? Oof, it is warm.” It really was very warm, much like Fairyland. His shirt probably wasn’t the most appropriate for the heat, but at least it would protect his skin from the sun. “Glad I put on sun cream already for Fairyland.” Lucinda fanned herself with a hand. “Do you need sun cream?”

“Sun cream?” Victor asked.

“To protect you from sunburn? Do fairies have a potion for that instead, maybe?”

“I d-did... b-but this morning.” It was late afternoon in Fairyland.

“We’d better get some then.” She tutted to herself. “I am not, in fact, well prepared at all.” He expected her to be annoyed, but she laughed. Still with a smile a mile wide she continued, “We need to break this note anyway. What did she say... Mini hand towel...for bathrooms... Ah, where did she say would be good for that?”

“D-Daiso,” Victor said.

“Great. Thanks!” Lucinda pulled out her phone. She’d brought a small bag. It was a croqueted tote; pale green with a white flower. It went well with her outfit; a pink frilly top and long white skirt. “Let’s see... Daiso...” She tapped her foot for a minute while she waited for something. Her smile finally turned to a frown. “Data is HOW MUCH per megabyte?! Someone’s having a laugh. All the way to the bank.” She shrugged and her smile returned. “Ah well. Not like I use my data for much since I’ve no signal half the time. Ooh, there’s a Daiso really close! Basically straight up this road! This way.”

“A m-map on your phone?” Victor queried.

“Yeah, it connects to a thingy in space or something,” Lucinda explained. “Oh, if you need to translate something, it can do that too. Not WELL, but enough that we should get by.”

“H-how is your phone N-NOT magic, again?” Victor asked, staring at it. It could show pictures, moving images, play music, he’d seen her use it to do maths and he knew there was a library in there too. Multiple libraries, from what he could gather. And yet Earthlings would be amazed he could turn into a bat.

“Honestly can’t argue,” Lucinda admitted.

As they walked, he thought again about the bat thing. “Um, M-Miss Lucinda, if you could turn into a-any animal, what w-would you choose?”

“Good question.” Lucinda stopped as she thought. Someone on a bike rode past them. Victor didn’t have time to react. They were already long gone even as he registered the intrusion. As he looked behind him to see where they went, he realised the jester had been right; the street was deserted. It was a tiny side road, that he could see, but this was much better than he had hoped. “I don’t know.” Lucinda’s reply startled him out of his observations.

“You don’t?”

“I’m not sure I’d want to turn into an animal at all,” she said. As he drew breath to question her further, she gasped, “Oh look, it’s right there! Right across the road!”

“O-oh. Th-that’s what she meant by ‘d-don’t cross when it’s red’,” Victor observed.

“Yeah. We call that the ‘green man’ in the UK. Interesting cultural difference,”-she held up a finger-“here they say ‘it’s blue’ instead of green.”

“The G-Green Man?” Victor raised an eyebrow. “L-like the forest spirit?”

“Oh. Oh yeah. I... think I’ve heard of that. Not the same guy, from what I know. Incidentally... It’s blue.” As they crossed she added, “And where I’d say ‘your face has gone white’ they say ‘your face is dark blue’.”

“Interesting... Wh-where did you l-learn that?”

“I’m not sure.” Lucinda cupped her chin. “Probably from manga translation notes or possibly from a research rabbit hole on the internet.”

They stopped at the edge of a large concrete area in front of the store. It had a few cars on it, with lines indicating where they should stop. He’d never seen a car before, but was vaguely aware they could kill you or explode. Luckily there were only two, and both were on the same side of the car area. They could see quite well into the store via the glass panelling all along the front. It wasn’t busy. There were four or five people in there he could see, all spread out.

“Do you want to come in with me or wait here?” Lucinda asked.

“I’ll... I’ll c-come in,” he decided, steeling himself. Even though they were at a BIG crossroads, bigger than any he’d ever seen, it was still almost devoid of people. Despite the size, it was still quieter than the Dark Capital’s streets. Logically, it was silly not to go in.

“Okay.” Lucinda led the way. He froze momentarily when the doors opened BY THEMSELVES at which Lucinda didn’t so much as blink. More Earthling ‘science’. “Oh no,” she almost whispered. He stopped again. “Everything. Is so. CUTE.”

“I-is that bad?” Victor’s voice quavered. Cute was not a quality he had hitherto associated with the phrase “oh no”.

“It is bad,” Lucinda replied solemnly, “because I want to buy it all.”

He relaxed somewhat. “What were we l-looking for again? H-hand towels?”

“Oh. Yes.” Lucinda snapped her fingers. “And sun cream. I’ll look up the word for sun cream while I remember.”

Heart pounding, Victor followed her along the shelves. He barely noticed the goods at first, instead keeping a surreptitious eye on the other customers and the shopkeepers. But he gradually came to the realisation... they weren’t paying him any attention at all. The shopkeepers would glance in his direction, smile and say a greeting. But then carry on with their work. He was completely unremarkable, apparently. It was liberating.

After a little while of browsing around the shelves which contained the wildest assortment of goods Victor could never have imagined existed, Lucinda stopped and took a very deliberate breath.

“Okay I have to make a rule for myself here,” she said. “This is the first shop we’ve been in and there is already so much cool stuff. I have to wait until we’ve had a proper look around. Comic Con rules.” She thought for a moment. “Um. Not that I’ll stop you from buying stuff you want.” She paused again. “I know Hettie said to spend the money on ourselves but I think we should save her some of it anyway. Let’s say... 2000 yen each? And we’ll try to save the rest. I know Will said we can just spend it but... I just wouldn’t feel right.”

“Y-you really d-don’t need to worry about me,” Victor protested.

“Don’t be silly,” she chided. “At the very least you need some food and drink. Speaking of, I know I said I’d wait to buy things but I have spotted some sweets I DEFINITELY want. They’re technically food. And is that an ice cream freezer I can see?”

“Ice cream w-would be nice,” he admitted. It was far too hot to say no to something as nice, luxurious and above all cold, as ice cream.

“Lemme just...” Lucinda checked something on her phone again and made a low whistle. “Wow, okay that is cheap. Is this a Japanese pound store??” They couldn’t read everything but the flavours were obvious enough and some were also written in English.

“I-I’ll have the earl g-grey one,” he said. “I-if you’re really sure.”

“Good choice. I’m super tempted by that one too but I think I’ll try the ice cream mochi.” She took one of each out of the cold box and looked around. “Oh. Self-checkout. I have never been so glad to see one before. I was working myself up about having to talk to the cashier for nothing.” She approached some boxes with words displayed on a screen. It was almost like a big version of her phone, he noticed. “Oh and there’s an English option, even.”

“Wh-what does ‘w-working yourself up’ mean?” he asked.

“That I was making myself really stressed,” Lucinda replied.

“You w-were stressed??” He hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah, to be honest I was dawdling a bit because I was stressing about having to talk to the cashier,” she admitted. “Sorry. I’ll try not to. I’m going to have to talk to at least one cashier today I’m sure.”

“D-don’t apologise...”

They took their ice creams just outside and ate them right away. There were a couple of big boxes out here too, that also looked like the cold boxes he’d seen inside. They had rows and rows of... something?

“Oh right, I forgot to get a drink.” Lucinda eyed the nearest one. “Is that... tea? COLD milk tea? That’s ... different. Though I suppose you get iced tea without milk AND iced coffee however. I’m gonna try it. We have change now.” She selected an option. Something clanged in a compartment below the rows of drinks and she reached through a flap and took out a can. “Hey, this is hot?! What the heck??” She studied the rows again. “Oh. OH. This one with the red must be hot and... the blue ones are cold? How the heck do they do that??” So there WAS some Earthling science she was baffled by. She turned from the machine and wiggled the can at him. “Want one? They’re pretty cheap.”

“Y-yes please.” While he still felt he was imposing, she was right that he couldn’t go all day without anything to eat or drink. Technically he had had lunch... back in Fairyland, some hours ago. And he was thirsty.

“This is very sweet,” Lucinda remarked, after taking a swig. “I think I like it.”

Victor tried his. “Y-yes, very.” He couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. Sweet things were a luxury at home, and carefully rationed, as he mustn’t damage his teeth. Come to think of it... she had said drinks were okay, and it WAS important. “C-can I also um, g-get some water?”

“Sure.” She double-checked something on her phone before making a selection. “Yep. Should be water.”

“Th-thank you.” Once he’d finished the tea and ice cream, he took a good few mouthfuls of water, swishing it around a bit. Seeing Lucinda looking at him curiously he said. “U-um. For-” He opened his mouth a little and pointed to his fangs.

“Oh. Yeah. Too much sugar would really mess you up, huh?” She tapped her own teeth thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind. Want me to carry that?” She indicated the water bottle.

“Um. Please. Th-thank you.” Was Hettie right? Was it really this easy?

“We should look for where we can buy clothes next, I guess. Oh and sun cream. Here’s the sun cream.” She handed over a small bottle. “Uh-”-she lunged forward and grabbed his arm-“-you don’t drink it. You rub it on your skin. Just where the skin is showing.”

He lowered the bottle, feeling his face colour and wordlessly opened the top, looking down to avoid her gaze. He squeezed some out and rubbed it on his face.

“You need a mirror?” Lucinda tapped her phone and turned it to face him. He jumped, seeing his face on the screen. “There’s a camera on it,” she explained. “Two cameras, actually.”

“Is there anything it doesn’t do?” he said, mystified, forgetting his embarrassment.

“Lots of things but admittedly none I can think of right now,” Lucinda replied. “Right. Clothes,” she said when he’d finished. “There’s a place right up the street. Book-Off? Sounds like a weird name to pick if you sell clothes.”

It was a straight walk up the very big street. It was so big there were trees and sculpted bushes between the pavement and the road, as well as a line specifically for the bicycles. Yet there were still hardly any pedestrians. The occasional bike whizzed past. They still made him jump, but he was finding himself less bothered about any of the humans around. It helped that this place was like nothing he’d ever seen. Some of the buildings were huge. Not just big, like his grandmother’s mansion, but wide AND tall. Incredibly tall. Fairyland trees tall. Maybe taller.

“This is... a supermarket?” Lucinda frowned. “Where is the clothing place?”

“I-is it up there?” Victor pointed to a strange, moving metal stairway.

“Well spotted.” She moved towards it and looked up. “Looks like there’s more floors too. Shall we go up?”

Victor nodded. He watched her as she stepped onto the moving stairs, then copied her. There was a handrail to hold; it moved at the same rate as the stairs. Earthlings had thought of everything. His fingers stiffened on the rail as they neared the top – how did you get off? What if he didn’t do it right? Lucinda merely stepped off at the top. He wobbled a little and half-jumped off, as his toe bumped the metal barrier at the top. He straightened up immediately and spun around, backing away. When they didn’t explode, stop or otherwise herald disaster, he turned away and looked around. The floor below had been filled with food from what little he saw, but this one was full of clothes, tableware and a lot of stuff he could only categorise as ‘Earth things’. There was a floor above them that seemed to be full of books. Lucinda noticed it too.

“First we’ll look on this floor, then we’ll go up and look at the manga and DVDs and stuff then we’ll go get some dinner from the supermarket,” Lucinda suggested. “Sound good?”

Victor gave a nod. “I d-don’t r-really mind what we do.” He really didn’t. This was a good place for his first ever Earth visit, he realised; everything was as fascinating to Lucinda as it was to him.

“Wow, there really are kimonos here!” she pointed to a section full of robes and wraps. “Or maybe they’re yukata. I’m not confident I can tell. Ooh and are those bowls and things? I am definitely getting a bowl or a cup or something.”

They browsed for a while. Victor tried to keep Lucinda in his eye line, but it was difficult as the clothes were organised by type. He didn’t want to bother her, but became quickly apparent that he needed some help.

“U-um... H-how do I know i-if the clothes will fit?” he asked.

She put a finger to her lips for a minute. “I never thought of that. Clothing sizes are different in different countries, so I guess I’m not sure what size fits me, either. Um... If I can figure out what size you are in UK sizes, I can probably convert it to a Japanese size.” She got out her phone again. “You’re roughly my size, and I’m a size twelve, sometimes a ten, probably need to go with a twelve or maybe even a fourteen to be safe. It’s easier to make a garment smaller than it is to make it bigger.” She tapped on her phone for another minute, her face a mask of concentration. “We’re looking for size 11 or 13, or just M for medium. You find it on the clothing tag, here.” She pulled up a little white label on the neckline of a nearby shirt. “Do you want me to help you look, or...?”

“N-no,” he said quickly. “I-I should be able t-to look by myself now.” He didn’t want to take up more of Lucinda’s time than necessary.

“Okay.” She gave him a thumbs up. “You want me to give you your share of the money or you want us to go to the counter together when you’re done on this floor? I wouldn’t say I speak Japanese, but I can at least count and I have my phone if it gets more complicated.”

“T-together, please,” he said, cursing inwardly that he’d be holding her up after all.

He browsed the clothing as quickly as he could manage. He had no idea what he was looking for, exactly. He stiffened up every time someone else appeared in the aisle, far more on edge now Lucinda wasn’t with him. He tried to focus. Think. What did he actually need. The plain, black trousers he was wearing were fine apparently, but his white shirt was too formal. A shirt, then. He should try to find a casual shirt.

He was absorbed in the task when he noticed a boy a little further down the aisle, about his own age. He hadn’t seen him approach.

‘Don’t panic,’ he thought to himself. ‘He won’t even look at you.’

The boy looked at him. And Victor had been looking at the boy. He’d seen him looking! Victor seized up. The boy’s eyes flicked to Victor’s hair. He’d forgotten about his hair. It was short and black, but with a thick, white streak in his fringe and around the nape of his neck up to his ears. In the Otherworlds, it was now a known sign of vampirism.

The boy gave him a smile. “It’s very cool!” he said in a thick accent, fingers brushing his own bangs.

“Th-thank you?” Victor replied.

The boy smiled a little wider. Then he looked away, and continued browsing.

Victor hurriedly looked away too, feeling his face redden. It would probably look bad to run away. He fought his every instinct, forcing each and every nerve to stay rooted to the spot. After a few heart pounding minutes that felt like hours, the boy left the aisle. Victor sagged in relief before nearly launching himself into the air when he felt someone come up behind him.

“I found this super cute dress, but there’s no way it’ll fit me,” Lucinda lamented. “It’s so unfair. I think I’ll get it for Erlina, though. Think Hettie would like this cup?”

Getting his breathing back under control, Victor nodded mutely. It was a pretty cup. It was pale blue with pink flowers. Lucinda was also carrying a bowl with a similar design, a spoon shaped like a mermaid and two pieces of clothing. One was the aforementioned dress, the other was a mauve and beige shirt with some writing on it.

“I'm shamelessly breaking my 'look around first' rule. How's it going?" She lowered her voice. “Hey, did you see that guy who was just here? He looked so cool!”

Victor tried hard to remember what the boy had actually looked like. Black, short hair, but with blond tips, and he was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and ripped jeans. He’d been wearing studded bracelets, a mixture of black and bright neon colours. “H-he spoke to me,” Victor said. “H-he said my hair w-was cool.”

“I just realised that in an Earth context, your hair looks like a fashion statement,” Lucinda observed. “I bet it would dye bright colours really easily, too.”

“Y-you can dye h-hair bright colours?” Victor asked.

“Yeah. Or pastel. Blonde. Whatever, really.” Lucinda took in his empty hands. “No luck?”

“N-not really,” he admitted.

“Do you want some help?” she asked. “If you tell me what you’re looking for, I can look too.”

“I’d l-like a shirt,” he said. “D-do you think m-maybe... s-something like that boy was wearing? But, n-not black. A-and with sleeves?”

“Gotcha.”

In the end they left with a n orangey-brown hoody-like shirt with colourful gashes in the sleeves, and some soundtrack CDs from the third floor, which Lucinda nearly fainted at, and which she’d talked about at length in a squeaky, high pitched voice that he’d probably have been able to hear better as a bat. Then they’d walked around the huge food market on the ground floor, picked out some dinner – technically supper – and now they were sat on some benches a street or two away eating some dango. It was sweet rice paste formed into balls, covered in a sweet, brown syrup. He had opted for a colourful version with no syrup; the balls were white, pink and green.

“These are so good,” Lucinda waved an empty skewer in the air. “Why don’t they make these in England? I wonder if I can make them myself...”

“These a-are also very nice,” Victor said. He yawned. It was getting pretty late in Fairyland.

“You know, I realised I only gave you half an answer before, and then I never heard your answer,” she said suddenly. “You asked me what animal I’d want to be,” she clarified, seeing his confusion.

“I-I asked because I d-don’t know,” he said.

Now it was her turn to look baffled. “What do you mean?”

“I d-don’t like being a bat,” he admitted, wrinkling his nose. “I w-want to learn a d-different spell, but I d-don’t have any ideas.”

“I imagine it is kind of a pain,” she sympathised. “Especially in the day. But I don’t know that much about bats. They’re cute and misunderstood, they have echo location, and that’s it, that’s all I know.”

“I l-like bats,” he pointed out, “I j-just don’t want to b-be one.”

“An owl, maybe?” Lucinda suggested. “Wait, no, same problem, nocturnal... Umm... Flying squirrel? Though, I guess you’d prefer something that can actually fly, not just glide... Hmm.”

“Wh-what about you, though?”

“Me? I’m happy staying the shape I am.” She leaned a hand on her cheek. “I wish I was a bit prettier... I guess who doesn’t...”

“Y-you’re pretty!” he protested.

“O-oh? Thanks.” She hunched her shoulders and smiled awkwardly. “I mean, it’s not like I think I’m ugly it’s just...” She dropped her shoulders again and looked away. “I don’t get to feel pretty a lot? I’m a prince for my job and my school uniform isn’t exactly flattering... So that’s at least 90% of the time I’m not dressed how I want. I suppose I’m done with high school really soon so that’s goodbye to the uniform at least.”

“D-do you not l-like working as a prince?” Victor asked.

“It’s not that,” Lucinda replied. “It’s just... tiring to pretend you’re a gender you’re not? I mean I don’t have to do a lot - Otherworlders just see the outfit and think ‘That’s a boy’. It’s both really useful and incredibly irritating at the same time. I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”

“I th-think I understand,” Victor replied. “I-I w-want new c-clothes because I d-don’t want people to l-look at me and just s-see ‘vampire’.”

“Do you... is it hard on you, being a vampire?” she asked.

“I d-don’t know, i-it’s inconvenient,” he replied, “b-but i-it’s n-not that I’m a vampire, i-it’s that I didn’t kn-know I was allowed to be a-anything else.”

“Yeah, it’s ... a whole thing, finding out something like that.” She flung a hand out in front of her. “It’s like, ‘You mean THIS was an option this whole time?!’ and it’s both annoying and great.” She laughed. “It’s better late than never though, right?”

He smiled to himself. “Y-yes...”

Lucinda rubbed her eyes. “Speaking of late... it’s something like 4am back home, and it's pretty late in Fairyland too.” She yawned. “I know we’ve only really been to two shops and a supermarket, but maybe we should head back? It’s up to you though. I can easily stay up longer.”

“W-we should head back,” Victor agreed. He was tired, and he was starting to suspect it wasn’t just the time since he’d last slept.

They got up, put their rubbish in the correct bin – there were several – and starting walking back. They’d been walking for just a few minutes when they were blindsided by a car. Lucinda jumped back. She hadn’t seen the crossing light - which was red - or the vehicle. There was a tiny side road with a wall blocking the view of anything but the main street. You couldn’t see the side street until you were practically on it.

“G-gomen nasai!” she said, bowing an apology. The driver didn’t look impressed; they were frowning hard. Lucinda shuffled back a good way from the road edge.

Victor, who had taken off as a bat in his panic, clung to the wall. It took Lucinda a minute to understand what had happened and spot him. She held a hand over her heart and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you okay?” she asked. They were now on opposite sides of the little road, but she didn’t try to cross.

“I-I think so,” he replied. “Th-that w-was close.”

“Yeah, I didn’t see that road AT ALL.” Lucinda made a face at the crossing light. She looked all around them and down the offending side street again. “It’s clear. No-one’s looking.”

“R-right.” He climbed around the corner anyway, just in case. And then...

“Do you want me to help block you from view?” she offered.

“Um.” He hung there for a minute. “Um... M-Miss Lucinda...”

“Yeah?”

“I c-can’t change back.” His voice sounded as small as he was.

She frowned and finally crossed the road, standing on the corner of the main street. “What was that?”

“I... I c-can’t change back.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“N-no. N-not... to me.”

Her expression changed to match his own growing horror. “Lamprey...” Eyes wide, she bit her knuckles while she thought. “Did they ever... Couldn’t the fairies fix it? Or a witch?”

“It d-doesn’t w-work,” he answered, struggling to keep a grip on the stone as his whole body was trembling. “Th-they t-tried, b-but you end up w-with a regular h-human who still n-needs blood. B-but with a body th-that c-can’t handle it. I-it w-was worse a-and he w-would have died f-from n-no blood.” His grip slipped and he slid a few inches down the wall.

“Um. Do you want to...?��� Lucinda held out a hand. He hesitated, before climbing on. She held her arms together a little away from her torso. “You know, one of the reasons I couldn’t answer you before about the animal thing... When I was turned into a raven that one time, it was really freaky how everyone else was suddenly a giant. So um, let me know if I’m being scary.”

“I-I’m u-used to it...” He glanced up at her before looking quickly back down. Her face was a mask of concentration.

“Didn’t Lamprey fall asleep as a bat or stay too long as a bat or something?” she asked. “I don’t remember the details but I know that he couldn’t turn back because he didn’t have enough magic. And he couldn’t drink enough blood to get enough magic to ever turn back because bats are too small.”

“Y-yes, that’s wh-what happened,” Victor confirmed.

“So... Um, so...” she began hesitantly, “since you only just turned into a bat, wouldn’t it work if you... drank blood, like, right now?”

“M-maybe, b-but... I c-can’t j-just... Who would...” Realisation dawned and he glanced up again.

“You could... drink... mine?” her voice cracked. “Wow, those words really just came out of my mouth. But there’s not a lot of options.”

“B-but-” Oh good. Now he had two different kinds of nightmare scenario to deal with at once, AND memories of The Incident were flooding back. His claws reflexively tensed, and he remembered that was flesh he was gripping, and forced himself to just flop. “B-but-” he tried again.

“I don’t think we’ve got time to argue,” Lucinda pointed out. “It’s at least thirty minutes walk to the return door, then a few hours from the return door to the palace.” She made sure no-one was looking, then ducked into the narrow side road, heading uphill. “Just need to find somewhere less exposed...”

“B-but-” He had absolutely no arguments to counter with.

“Look,” she continued as she powerwalked up the street, “I know I said don’t ask me for blood, and you didn’t, I offered. And, yeah, I’m uncomfortable and slightly terrified but you were literally just talking about how you don’t like being a bat and if I don’t do something you might be stuck as a bat forever and I’m a prince and rescuing people is my job and it doesn’t matter if I’m on Earth or I’m not getting paid, because you don’t get to choose who needs rescuing-”

“I d-don’t-”

“-so we’re both just going to have to speedrun facing our demons. Here should do.” She stopped in another side street, and leaned against a wall breathing hard. “Look, it’s not like that time with the potion. Just. Just go ahead? I promise it’s fine.” She hesitated. “Well all right, not fine, but as fine as I’m going to get. And we might have taken too long already.”

Unable to answer with any suitable words, Victor turned his attention to Lucinda’s arm. This was going to be a lot harder as a bat. And it was going to hurt. Human skin offered zero resistance to vampire fangs, but bat teeth weren’t anywhere near as sharp. He wasn’t even a vampire bat. Still, they weren’t herbivore teeth. He tentatively nipped near a vein. He felt Lucinda wince; she didn’t say anything, but she gave him a thumbs up with her other hand. He tried again, hearing a hiss from Lucinda, but he’d drawn blood. And still the inconvenience of being a bat wasn’t over, because he couldn’t cover the wound and suck. Bats lapped. He tried to avoid the actual cut, merely licking at the trickle of blood. He’d have to try and drink as much as he could stand; constantly stopping and failing to transform would only drain even more magic and draw this ordeal out. Determined not to look at Lucinda until he was done and frankly, possibly never again, ever, he focused on the blood. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t drink any more – he was a pretty small bat – and without thinking, tried to transform. The two of them toppled over, the sudden weight of a human on the girl’s arms not being conducive to good balance, and they ended up in a heap on the floor.

“It worked!” Lucinda beamed at him before extracting her arms from under him and pushing herself away.

Victor’s body was screaming at him. He was bruised and aching from the fall, he’d been up for nearly twenty four hours now and above all, he was thirsty. “C-can I-” He bit the question back.

Lucinda rubbed her wrist near the cut. “Do you... n-need more...?”

He gave a single nod.

Lucinda held out the still dripping arm shakily. “Well, I’m... already bleeding s-so...”

Victor shook his head furiously.

Lucinda started laughing.

He looked up in alarm.

She pushed herself up off her knees and into a sitting position, still laughing. “We are the worst two people for this activity.”

“Wh-why are you laughing?”

“I dunno, just, there couldn’t be any two worse people to have been put into this situation,” she remarked. “Well... maybe Sara,” she admitted after a moment’s thought. “Probably, no, definitely Sara.”

“A-are you okay...?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “Erlina fainted from not having enough magic in Bad Schwartz and that’s an area that actually has magic. Earth has barely any. I wouldn’t be able to carry you back to the door if you collapse, and if we tried and failed, you’d collapse in public, in a country where I don’t speak the language, and neither of us has a passport. Pretty sure that’s illegal, now that I think about it. So.” She held out her arm again, steadily this time.

“I c-can’t argue...” he whined, slumping back against the wall. Eventually he dragged himself back up and to where she was sat. He gingerly took her arm and put his mouth to the cut. It was inadequate, so he used his fangs. At least this way wasn’t painful.

“You know, this isn’t anything like any of the nightmare scenarios I had in my head,” she said. “I thought it would hurt, for one thing.” She rifled in her bag one handed and pulled out her phone. “Still okay for time.”

Despite what she said, he could feel she was tense through her arm. She held it rigid, while she kept a lookout for people and cars.

Eventually he let go and just let himself breathe.

“I should probably get a plaster or a bandage for this,” she began, looking at her arm. “Oh... It’s actually not bleeding that much. It’s stopped already?”

“Vampire bites h-heal v-very fast.”

“I’m gonna get some cute plasters anyway,” she said, standing up a little shakily and dusting herself off. “I’m always getting scrapes from my prince work and um, I... don’t want people to see the bite mark. But mainly I want to buy cute stuff. Is that okay? It’s on the way back. That Daiso place.”

“Y-you could tell me y-you want t-to tour the whole city by foot a-and I’d agree.”

“Is there anything you want?”

“I w-want to s-sleep for s-seven hundred y-years,” he replied. “A-and some more of th-that tea.”

They returned to the store and got more sweets and drinks, and a few interesting gizmos. It was now the wee hours of the morning in Fairyland, and it was disheartening to know that they had a few hours to walk before they got to the palace and more importantly, their bedrooms.

When they stepped through the door to Fairyland, they found a carriage waiting there.

“There you are!” Tyrian exclaimed with relief. “I thought something might have happened, so I came to wait for you. Will told me this was the return door he gave you.”

“We weren’t gone that long, were we?” Lucinda asked.

“I... suppose not, but it was getting dark and you weren’t back, and I know its not dark there yet, but I don’t know, it’s Victor’s first trip to Earth and everything,” he rambled. “Not that I don’t trust you Lucy!” he backpedalled. “So ah, was everything all right? No emergencies?”

“N-none at all,” replied Victor.

“Completely uneventful,” Lucinda reported.

“Very good then,” Tyrian said, opening the carriage door. “Get in.”

“You have no idea how glad we are that we don’t have to walk back,” Lucinda told him as she climbed inside. She settled herself into the opposite corner, on the same side as Tyrian.

Victor lay full length on the other seat, facing the ceiling.

“So, what did you get up to?” Tyrian asked brightly.

“N-no questions, please,” Victor protested.

“Agreed. No questions, only sleep,” Lucinda added, closing her eyes and getting as comfortable as possible.

“Hmm.” He peered at them both in turn before settling back himself. “Very well, as you wish,” he acquiesced.

They were asleep before they even reached the edge of the forest.

----

I have so much stuff to do right now but this INSISTED on being written.

Oh and... Lucinda is wrong about there being zero dragons. Just fyi.

[cyten0]

A Symphony In Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 5

You're on the third floor again, just about to pick up the keyknife again. You found that book in the secret library for that craft to shield you all.

You think that will be enough, but you don’t know. You have no idea what other tricks the king has. Still, your all-sadness diet is starting to kick in, and the smell of your party is starting to get a touch distracting.

It should be fine though.

You enter the room with the change god statue, and as the party prays, you do too. You don’t know for sure if they’ll give you the dagger a second time, but you hope they’ll open the path in some form again at least. You still don’t have a better option...

In a flash of light, the Keyknife re-appears in your hands! As you all are hurtled back to the entrance, you watch the rest of your party confused. You're still surprised as well!

✦ “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

As you prepare to cut open the door, a thought occurs to you. If this dagger’s power can cut through the kings hair, maybe it can also hurt the king better? But...

◉ “Something up Siffrin?”

✦ “Just noticed the blade is dull. It can cut us through, but it’ll break doing so.”

▲ “Maybe you could sharpen it? You did grab that sharpening stone on the first floor.”

You did! You were planning to sharpen your normal dagger to hurt a little more, but this seems a much better use!

✦ “Right! That just leaves some water to dampen the stone.”

You could do so without it, but it could degrade the dagger, and you wouldn’t want that. Just in case!

◆ “We have some crafted water. A bit costly, but given it’s clearly not a normal blade, might be worth it.”

✿ “No problem! Here you go!”

As Bonnie hands you the bottle, you carefully coat the stone and begin sharpening… Ok, that’s odd.

▲ “Huh, not doing much. Maybe it’s cause of it’s blessing?”

◆ “Hm… The water has also been drained of craft energy. We’ll likely need something with more craft energy in it to work. But, I don’t think we have anything like that.”

Hm… You do have one idea. It’s not pleasant, but it just might work.

✦ “I think I have something for this, actually.”

The others look rather surprised, as you quietly tuck the empty bottle of craft water under your cloak. Out of sight, you use your claws to cut open one of your tendrils, letting out your inhuman blood, and refilling the vial before closing up the wound.

Pulling out the dark substance, you pour it over the stone and begin sharpening it again. Everyone is surprised to find it sharpens with absolute ease! As you suspected, eating so many sadnesses has saturated your blood with craft energy!

✿ “Woah! What is that stuff!”

Well you can’t tell them, but you have something both close and believable enough to work.

✦ “Sadness blood. Filled with craft energy! Hard to get though.”

They all recoil in shock!

✿ “WHAT”

◉ “W-WHY?!?”

◆ “Why do you even have that?!?”

▲ “HOW do you even have that?!?”

Oh stars, you did not think this through! Quick, come up with something!

✦ “I-I just wanted to see if I could?”

▲ “...I guess? Still, sharpening a gift from the change god with blood, especially from a sadness.…”

...Oh STARS! That IS kinda messed up! Oh no! You really shouldn't be tainting a blessing like this, not with your Monster nature! You REALLY hope the change god isn’t too offended!

✦ “S-Sorry Change God! Oh stars, I really hope it was worth it...”

You take the newly sharpened blade, and slash it across the hair with your full might. And sure enough, it stays intact…

And uh. Kinda breaks the wall a little?!? Wow, that sharpening was effective!

✿ “Holy CRAB! That’s AWESOME!!!”

◆ “I daresay worth the heresy.”

You nod in agreement, still embarrassed, and continue on. The king will fall!

>>>

You stand in front of the king. You play your part the same as last time, and just as before, the king snaps to you, and with a voice dripping with ice, he speaks.

♔ “You….. Bright one…. Do you remember?”

...You have to know...

✦ "Do you?”

♔ “Oh….. Hah..... That is almost fair, I suppose…….."

You guess not then. Neither your loops, nor their home.

♔ ".........In this battle between eternity and the end…… We shall fight…..”

As he lifts himself from the ground, is voice becomes booming, filling the room.

♔ “AND WE SHALL SEE WHICH SIDE THE UNIVERSE FAVORS”

You all pull out your weapons, and the Knifekey hums with power in your gasp. The king prepares their attack, but you have a plan right now. You bet the king doesn’t know that, so maybe you can leverage that to get some information? He basically thinks you’re all already dead.

♔ “… For the sake of the rest of you, I shall be merciful, and give you time to come to terms with the end.”

✦ “Then one question. How did you know?”

The flow of energy towards his hand pauses, as he turns towards you.

♔ “Ohh….. Surprised I recognized you?…… I may only have the endless nightmares….. But after a while…… I noticed details…..”

◆ “(What are they talking about)”

✦ “Like what?”

♔ “Ohhhh….. The others would not be able to notice…. But…..Your voice….. There is always something…… underneath it when you speak, regardless of what form you take….. “

◉ “Huh?”

▲ “Wait, what does that mean??”

Uh oh! You need to distract them now, before they think on it!

Wait, the king’s been charging the attack secretly this whole time!

✦ “Mira, Shield now!”

Mira is surprised, but quickly crafted the shield just before the wave of energy crashes into you all!! It still knocks the wind out of you, but it’s manageable now... The others pick themselves up from the blow.

▲ “Was... that a distraction?”

♔ “Oh…...Oooooohhhhhh………. You're still here…. Good. To the death then.”

You don’t hesitate, charging forwards, tearing a hole through his armor like butter. You smell his blood from the wound, and feel him recoil. That blood smells delicious, you want to- No, focus.

Before he can focus on you, Odile fires off a craft directly into the opening you made. The king strikes back, landing a painful blow onto her! ODILE! Oh, thank goodness, Mirabelle got her back up, Ok. You take the moment to shift your body towards papercraft, mimicking some sadnesses you’ve eaten, and start fighting on instinct while you all have the king off balance.

...Your voice. Of course your voice is a tell! You already struggled with talking, and don’t talk often on the worry you’ll say something wrong and upset people. So of COURSE it’s the one blinding thing that’s still not human! Now that it’s been pointed out, you can’t stop worrying about it...

It’s fine, focus on the battle, and if someone else talks, you’ll just pay attention, see if you can’t figure out how to fix it.

You refocus. The king is looking somewhat injured. And you didn't deviate notably from human while fighting like that! You’re all chipping away at him rather well, and the others are holding out alright. The king begins crying, and tears begin to fill the air.

♔ “Why….. Why must you all still fight?….. You don’t understand!!!!”

▲ “Crying still, huh?”

You hear Bonnie mumble under their breath, before shouting in anger.

✿ “STOP CRYING!!! YOU CAN’T!!! You hurt so many people!!! People who won’t come back unless we beat you!!! My village, my sister, EVERYONE!!! They're all trapped because of YOU!!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CRY!!!!”

...You know why he’s crying. But still, Bonnie’s right. And it’s time he stopped! You take the dagger, and try and get rid of the tears protecting him. But they keep coming!

▲ “Sif! Stop him!”

You nod and Isa uses a defense debuffing craft, making the king unsteady enough for an opening. You go in, dodging through the tears, and leap into his face.

You need to make him lose focus on maintaining those tears! This is less for damage and more show, so it’s time to leverage a little fear factor! You plunge the knife into his shoulder, but have a small piece of you split off and worm it’s way into his body through the gash. It can’t do much with how weak you are, but…

Sure enough, he noticed it and instantly loses it! His hand crashes into the spot your standing, and while you avoid being crushed, the impact still knocks you pretty hard. You fall to the ground, somewhat injured, but watch as he claws at the opening desperately. The tears fall into inanimate water instantly as his concentration drops.

Success! Cheap trick, took some energy, but after that first attack, it’s fair play!

Bonnie tosses you a sour tonic, and you drink it to heal yourself back up. An herbal scent fills the air as Mira and Odile ready paper crafts, and Isa uses his gloves to add paper craft to his strike. You’re still a little weak from that last attack, and can’t muster up anything big, but you still join in, at least to let the Knifekey do some work.

As the king stumbles from the combined blow, he picks himself back up and begins to speak.

♔ “Ohhhhhh…….Why… Why do you all fight against me?”

◉ “What do you mean WHY? After EVERYTHING?”

♔ “Yes…. You all wish to live…. You fight for those you care for…. Do you want to see them die?”

Everyone is taken aback.

✿ “W-What does that mean?”

♔ “Ooohhhhh….. Time kills everything, sooner or later….. They fall apart…. They are forgotten….."

◆ "I suppose, but what does-"

♔ "If time does not move, they will survive…... The Universe itself has given us this chance, to save them all. Are you all willing to let them all die?”

...You don't have a response to that. The others are silent as well. They probably don't believe that but...

Odile suddenly notices the King was secretly charging that devastating attack again! She signals to Mira to craft the shield!

Just in time, the wave hits you all, knocking the wind out of you but leaving you standing. You get up to retaliate, but notice you're moving sluggishly!

The king used a slowing craft on you all in the commotion. You try and use a speed craft to get you all back, but the King instantly freezes you before you can. The others, still slowed, struggle to maneuver so slowed, and the King swipes the battlefield, hurting everyone! No! You have to MOVE!

Mira gets herself back up, and unfreezes you, and you snap your fingers, getting you all back up to speed. You then channel extra craft into a flick of your wrist towards Odile, and her awareness quickly perks up! You're running low, but it's worth it as she throws out a potent paper craft.

Bonnie throws out a Pepper juice, and as you all feel the strength flow through you, Isa leaps up and slams his fist directly into the King's face, knocking him down.

♔ “Ah……!!!…. No….. This can’t……”

Mira walks forward, with a determination in her stance that feels palpable.

◉ “King… I don’t know how much you know about our belief. But I believe in Change. Without a future, things may not be able to get get worse."

She swings out her rapier and points it directly at him!

◉ “But they’ll never get better either! There is no Change in your world! They’ll never grow, never change, never be a part of this world! They might never die, but they’ll never get to live! And I want everyone to Live! I will NEVER let you have your half dead world! I want Change!”

You sit there, somewhat shaken. Life. That’s always been what matters. Saving people. To give people. A chance to Live.

▲ “Nice try there, but this isn’t the end of our story! Not by a long shot!”

◆ “How very foolish of you to invent a new form of death and pretend it’s to save people.”

✿ “Saying all those things to convince us… Your the worst King! Your just a dumb idiot baby who froze everyone for dumb idiot baby reasons!!!!!!”

...Heh...The verdict has passed, and it’s time to end the song of this monster of a man.

✦ “Sounds like there’s nothing for me to add, huh? So all you need to do now is disappear.”

You channel nearly all the remaining craft energy you still have into the palm of your hand, ready to share it with the others. They begin to follow suit.

✿◆▲ “Disappear!”

Mirabelle raises her hands, gathering the craft energy and channeling it into a single powerful point.

◉ “Disappear!!!”

♔ “NO!!!!”

As the ball of craft slams into the king, he crashes to the ground, and starts to fade.

♔ “No, I can’t….. Not yet… No t w h e n…. I s t i l l c a n’ t….”

The king.

Dissolves.

...The world around you begins to fade back to normal, the curse unraveling. You all sit there, flabbergasted.

▲ “… Did… Did we win?”

✿ “… The king is… gone!”

◆ “… I think... we won!”

You all pause… And then burst into laughter and excitement!

You did it! You actually did it! You're a little off right now, having spent so much energy, but you give Mira some congratulations on the final blow. Bonnie talks about how scary it was, Odile remarks how close it got, and Isa is jumping around like crazy. It's over!

Stars, you... You don't know if you have much left after all you spent there... You think your body is gonna fall apart any second now...

◉ “Oh! Wait! People are unfreezing, s-so that means the Head Housemaiden-!!!!”

She breaks into a sprint further down the hallway.

▲ “And there she goes…”

✿ “Let’s follow!”

You start to follow along…. Oh right! You remember to listen to them talk among themselves a little. Need to get that last little bit of monster out of your voice! Can't have them noticing now!

Right now they're chatting about the fight, as expected, and you think you noticed what’s wrong. Remove a tiny bit of tissue from your improvised voice box and…

◆ “On a side note, Siffrin, you managed to scare the king quite a bit there. What was up with that?”

Perfect timing, time to test the new voice out!

✦ “Oh, I just mimicked the voice of an old horror monster. Surprised he caught on, so I played it up!”

▲ “Huh! He acted like he’d actually met it... That’s kinda scary.”

✿ “Nah, monsters aren’t real. Bet he just got scared of a nightmare like the crabbing baby he was.”

◆ “Hm. Must have been subtle, I didn’t even notice.”

NOW you can demonstrate! You quickly change your voice box back, and go a little over for effect!

✦ “Weľ̶͎̙͚̃̉l, It’s p̴̙͔͑͂robably easier, if yo̸̜̜̰̿̄u know tȍ̵̧̠̍̔ look f̸̣̗́̈́̽or it.”

◆ “GEMS!!!”

▲ “CRAB!!!!”

✿ “HOLY CRAB!!!!”

You do a little bow as you adjust your voice back to normal.

▲ “… Yeah never-mind if I heard even a hint of that, I’d freak out too.”

They might figure it out later, but that'll keep them off the trail for now... But... That might be all that's needed.

You continue onwards, until you exit out into a corridor. Oh stars! You're really high up! You block the view from Odile quickly!

◆ “T-thank you Siffrin.”

▲ “Oh! Don't worry, Ma'dame. Look at the ground and take my hand! I won’t let you fall.”

Mirabelle calls out from up ahead.

◉ “Are you all Ok?”

✿ “You gotta slow down for Dile, Belle!”

◆ “G-Give us a bit. You can... go on ahead.”

◉ “Oh change, right! Um… Ok, take your time.”

You lead Odile across the room slowly. Fear of heights is no joke! Would not want her fainting right after beating the king! You can hear her heartbeat race, even now. Like a scared animal ready to-

Nope. Ok, you might have used TOO much energy there. You're practically starving. You can hold on but...

You make it to the other side, and hear Mira talking with the Head Housemaiden. She towers over Mira, yet has a gentle grace to her stance.

◉ “Oh, there they are!"

◎ “Ah, Welcome! You are Mirabelle’s companions? I am so thankful to you all for getting her this far. You have my thanks, and all of Vaugarde’s!”

✿ “hehehe…”

▲ “No problem at all, m’dame Head Housemaiden! It was an honor!”

◆ “Truly, it was nothing”

You nod, a little bashful. You guess this mean’s Siffrin’s a hero now! That’s a very good addition to their story!...

Stars, you can't stop thinking about their scents.

◎ “Hohoho!…. Soon, you’ll be able to go back to your normal lives, away from battle and strife. Finally, you’ll be able to go home! If there’s anything Dormont can do to thank you, please do not hesitate to ask. But for now, take your rest, it must have been very difficult!”

Everyone nods, and goes to different corners to relax a little.

...So… You’ve beaten the king, saved Vaugarde, and made Siffrin a hero… You guess that means it’s time for you all to go your separate ways…

Probably for the best, your hunger has finally caught up in full... It’s… a little hard to think...

...This will probably be the end of Siffrin’s journey… You're too hungry to maintain being them for long... This body will fall apart, and it'll be much harder to remake from scratch...

You should make sure to talk to all of them before that happens…

You walk over to Bonnie. Maybe they have a spare snack they can give you? No, it’s fine, best not think about eating right now.

✿ “...It’s over, right? Like, really REALLY over?”

✦ “Yep. King’s gone, your sister will be back, and I bet she’ll be very excited to see you again!”

✿ “… You sure?”

✦ “I’m sure. If she’s not, you can punch me as many times as you want.”

✿ “Deal… Wait, that’s such a long journey though, how am I gonna find you if your crabbing wrong?!? That’s dumb!”

✦ “Almost as dumb as your sister not being OK after we won.”

✿ “oh. OH!!! Ok, I’ll believe you, but if she’s not I’m gonna punch you so much!”

You chuckle. You doubt it’ll be needed, but as soon as you can get yourself back to human, whatever form it is, you’ll make sure they can keep that promise, even if they don't know it. You just hope they're OK waiting.

You decide Odile is next. Her sweat from her exhaustion catches your attention. You try to ignore it and clear your head.

◆ “… Ah, yes, woop woop, we did it, we won, ect… Urgh…. This has been quite the workout. My body is screaming at me”

Same! Though for very different reasons. Stars, why do they have to be so- NOPE, push those thoughts back.

◆ “Savior of Vougarde is quite a nice addition to my list of accomplishments, but I’m looking forwards to traveling again. I’d be interested to hear more from Vaugardian cities after an event like this. Though, I’m not sure I’ll be used to traveling alone again. Or I could head back to Ka Bue?”

Now or never to find this out…

✦ “To do your research?”

◆ “Are you hoping I’ll tell you now the journey is over? Heh. Keep dreaming.”

✦ “Boo.”

◆ “Ha! Ha… I’ll miss you Siffrin. You’re a little strange, but your a good kid. Maybe try letting down your walls sometime? And come to Ka Bue anytime, maybe we’ll meet again.”

She smiles at you gently, and you smile back… If Siffrin will be missed, you guess you did your job right! They made an impact, even after…

You decide to go talk to Mira next. She smells sweet as ever, so entice- No, focus.

◉ “… I’m not dreaming, right? It’s over? It’s really, actually over?”

✦ “It’s over!”

◉ “Oh change, I’m having a hard time believing it. I- It’s just- It’s been such a long journey, and I can’t believe it’s finally over and that we won and-

Oh no, she’s crying! You have to do something!!

✦ “Breathe with me?”

◉ “o-Okay…”

You both breathe slowly in, and out.

◉ “hah…. Hehe, you can be so nice Siffrin!”

!!! Oh, you can feel your cheeks burn!

◉ “Oh you're blushing!!!…"

◉ “Ahem. I know we haven't known each other for all that long. B-But I hope you know I really treasure your company! I do! I really really do! And so… Thank you! Thank you for accompanying me on this journey!”

You feel really happy! You’ve done so well!

◉ “… I’m sure you’re excited to get back to traveling on your own… But don’t forget me, Ok? Come see me at Dormont anytime! I’d love to hang out! Promise?”

…. You know you can’t promise that. You can’t keep being Siffrin for much longer. You're too hungry. It’ll be months before you can put together a human guise again, and you wouldn’t be able to get it exactly the same. They’d notice the differences... Or worse, figure out the truth...

She noticed your hesitation, and is looking at you strangely.

✦ “I would love that. I’ll try.”

◉ “… Ok. I’ll see you when you do!”

You wave them goodbye…

Finally, you decide to talk to Isa. You can’t help but listen to his heartbeat, hear his breaths, take in his scent... NO. Focus.

▲”Sif! We did it! We stopped the King! We can finally go back to our normal lives! Isn’t it great?”

✦ “It is!”

▲ “Yeah!…... I uh. I said. Do you remember what I said? At the Clocktower?”

Yes! You do! He says something each time at the clocktower, that he would tell you something after you beat the king! You really want to know!

✦ “I remember! What did you want to tell me?”

▲ “Yes. Um… Yes. Okay. Phew…… Sif. Siffarooni…. Siffrin….”

▲ “...I… I… I lo-”

✿ “ARE YOU GUYS DONE TALKING ALREADY??? CRAB!!! I wanna go so I can eat dinner!!! I’m super duper hungry!!”

Isabeau makes a bunch of incoherent noises of frustration, face in his hands.

▲ “………. It’s fine. It wasn’t that important.”

But…. But there might not be a later! This might be the last time you get to see him as Siffrin!

✦ “A-Are you sure?”

▲ “… Yeah. Besides I have some thinking to do. Gonna be heading back to Jouvente after this!… Just, make sure to say hi if you ever drop by, alright?”

...You can’t tell him. And you don’t have a reason to press him on it. So...

✦ “Sure.”

You wave him goodbye, even as your heart stings. You’re… Going to miss all of them. You don’t want to say goodbye, but you don’t have much choice.

'Siffrin' is about to die, the moment you leave this house.

You head over to the Head Housemaiden. You're barely holding it together, your body is starting to burn from the strain of holding it's shape.

But you can handle one more conversation. Close out the last dangling thread. Finish the last notes of Siffrin's song. Before you have to leave.

You guess it’s time for the journey to end.

◎ “Traveling one! I’d like to thank you for accompanying Mirabelle this far. I’m very grateful.”

You nod thankfully.

◎ “Siffrin, yes? If there’s anything I can do to thank you, please don’t hesitate to ask. I know you will be going back to your travels soon, but I do hope you’ll keep in touch, if only for dear Mirabelle… But no matter what, know that Dormont will always be welcome to you! Please come back.. any… time…”

She gives you an odd look, and then her face shifts to that of shock! Oh no! What did you do?!?

◎ “Oh… Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no…”

✦ “W-what?”

◎ “I-I’m so sorry! There’s no way we can stop it now…!”

You suddenly notice it. The room has been slowly smelling sweeter, something is shifting, twisting!

✦ “What’s happening? What do you mean?!?”

◎ “Your going back! Back to when it all started!”

No! No! No, not with how you are now, you can’t-!

◎ “I know you thought your quest is over, but it can’t be! Something is broken, failing, rotting!!! I can’t fix it on my own, not before it all ends… If I had noticed it sooner!!! I should have seen it, prevented it!!!”

You feel a tug on your heart. You want to flee, but you can’t move!

◎ “It’s my fault you have to suffer like this. I just hope that one day, you might lea《rn to f《or《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

《《《《《《《《《《《

《《《《

《《

《

… You're… Back...

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Unfamiliar

Part 5

Demon!Grim gets summoned by a bunch of kids accidentally and immediately decides to adopt them in retaliation

<P4

When you cash in a soul for Soleils, the amount of money you get for it can vary. Humans were worth the most, as their souls were ‘pure’, completely untouched by magic. Werewolves, which were humans who had been corrupted before a demon had even gotten to them, were worth the least, mostly out of spite.

Faerie souls were rare, since no demon wanted to wait up to a thousand years for one to die, and were therefore worth quite a lot.

What does this all mean?

That Grim was rich.

Which is convenient! Because kids, he learned, are not cheap!

“Deuce, please don’t take apart your old phone. Just because you’ve got a new one does not mean that breaking that breaking the old one is okay,” Grim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He may be rich, now, but that didn’t mean he was used to it yet. Every time he glanced over and saw Deuce trying to convince Ace to use his claws to pry it apart, he had a mini heart attack. And he didn’t even have a heart!

Deuce pouted at him.

“You’ve got everything you needed to buy, I can always send you back home,” Grim said, raising an eyebrow.

The boy’s eyes widened and he shook his head, immediately grabbing the nearest friend – Ace – for comfort.

“But he doesn’t need that phone anymore,” Trinity argued, her arms crossed over her chest. “It can’t even text us! It’s awful.”

“It can’t text you when you’re in different worlds,” Grim corrected, tiredly. “And it usually doesn’t have to. Demons are the only species that consistently travels between worlds.”

“Still dumb,” sulked Trinity.

He shrugged. “Enchantments are hard, and finding someone to do them is expensive, it would be a waste to get them when most people won’t use them. Now, stop distracting me, I can see them trying to open the phone. I have peripheral vision, y’know.”

The boys’ shoulders jumped up to their ears, faces red as they quickly tried to hide the evidence behind their backs.

Trinity didn’t look ashamed in the slightest, only pouting harder now that they’d been caught.

Grim plucked Deuce’s old phone out of their hands. Problem solved. “Alright, next up, we should get some stuff to decorate your room.” He thought of his house, relatively bare save for a couple of sentimental things he’d picked up over the years. And small. “I can probably swap out the bed for two smaller ones…”

Ace shook his head, rapidly. “We can share!”

Grim blinked. Hm. A dragon wanting to share? These kids were… perhaps a little more codependent than he’d originally guessed. Should he… do something about that? And, if so, what was he supposed to do?

“Er… sure,” he said, slowly, making a mental note to stop by the library for a lot of parenting books and, perhaps, a few books on childhood trauma. “You’ll have to decide on what color sheets you want.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Red,” said Ace.

“No. Pink.”

“Absolutely not,” said Ace. “Just go with red. It’s dark pink.”

“And pink is light red!” she argued.

“I like blue,” offered Deuce. “It’s a nice… sleepy color?”

“Red’s way cooler.”

Technically, red was a warm color and blue was a cool color, but go off.

“I like blue,” said Trinity. “A nice sky blue could be okay.”

Ace looked betrayed.

“Are you sure you don’t want separate beds?” Grim asked, feeling faint.

“No!” all three of them said, immediately. Even Deuce, who wasn’t even going to live with them, had chimed in. Grim was definitely going to look into codependence.

“... okay. How about we get clothes, and you three can think on it?” he said, a little desperately.

Once they no longer had to share the things that they were buying, shopping was far easier.

Grim couldn’t say he was super knowledgeable about fashion, seeing as Hell didn’t really have any fashion trends for him to follow. Put delicately, there was… no need to cover up, and so most demons didn’t bother. Some experimented, sure, but it was just that – experimenting. Most gave up after a few years, if only because it was a pain to doll yourself up every morning.

This did not mean that there wasn’t an abundance of clothes stores to pick from, though, all in kids’ sizes.

(Demons, as strange as it may sound, were prone to randomly picking up children of miscellaneous species. Gotta pass the millenia somehow, he supposed.)

Now, Grim watched as the kids ran around, picking out items, and realized that he was even less fashionable than he had originally thought he was. Trinity took a liking to a tutu and a set of wizard robes. Ace picked up what looked to be a Batman costume. Grim simply did not understand.

Deuce looked pained. He tugged on Grim’s arm.

“Tell them that it looks bad and they can’t buy it, please.”

Grim looked at the two kids, and then shrugged. “If it’s what they want to wear, I don’t see why they shouldn’t.”

The faerie fell to his knees, devastated.

Now that he thought about it, faerie put a lot of effort into their appearances. They, probably, had a myriad of fashion rules to follow.

… whatever. Ace and Trinity were happy, and it wasn’t like anyone in Hell was going to care if their clothes ‘clashed’.

Outside of Deuce, who picked out a few outfits for them to wear ‘when they came to visit’. Grim added a new note to the margins of his already full mental notepad: make sure Deuce doesn’t burn their clothes out of sheer spite.

Considering his notepad was full, he should probably try and alleviate the danger now, before he forgot. He even had a plan for dealing with it!

Distraction! Kids are easy to distract! Especially with shiny things!

So, he took them around the mall. He didn’t let them go wild – he had no intentions of going broke, after all – but he was happy to buy anything within reason.

Something that the dragon, unsurprisingly, was even more happy to take advantage of. Though Grim was happy to say that Ace focused, largely, on buying nesting materials. Which meant that Ace was actually able to prioritize when splurging! Grim had done nothing to teach him this virtue, but he was proud regardless.

Trinity bought… a goldfish. Grim hadn’t known what she would get, he could have guessed for a hundred years and he still wouldn’t have guessed that she’d go for that. Still, it was her money, and it wasn’t like the goldfish would harm her, so he bought a tank and some little decorations to go with it. The tank was way too big for such a small creature, and literally flashy thanks to a couple of LEDs. He was half tempted to get a couple more fish, to fill it out more, but decided to hold off on that for a while, until he was sure that Trinity was capable of keeping the single fish alive.

Unaware of what Grim had considered and then subsequently shot down, Trinity was as content as can be with the current situation.

“I thought you’d get a cat, if you were buying a pet,” he mused, absently, watching as the tank and fish disappeared in a small flash of light, privately grateful that he had thought far enough ahead to choose a mall that provided delivery services.

“No!” she huffed, drawing his attention back to her. “I want a cat as my familiar, not my pet.”

Grim nodded, slowly. That made sense, he guessed.

“Also the water is calming,” Deuce said.

Grim, who had watched the kids sit in the fish aisle for twenty minutes, eyes full of wonder, decided he would take his word for it.

“I still think chimeras are way cooler,” he said.

The kids shook their heads, vehemently.

“Who even cares what’s cool,” Trinity grumbled. “What matters is how cute a pet is. Black cats are cute. Fish are cute.”

“Chimeras are cute!” Grim said.

All of the kids erupted into disagreement.

One day they would get it, he was sure.

But… he, privately, wouldn’t mind if they didn’t understand. Grim fought back a smile. They all looked so adorable when their cheeks puffed up in anger. He ruffled Ace’s hair, which only made his face burn an even brighter red.

Fighting off a laugh by clearing his throat, he looked around. “Right, anything else…?”

His eyes landed on Deuce. The boy seemed happy to be included on their little trip, content to follow his friends around and give his opinions on things when asked, but…

He sighed. “You can buy something, too, if you want.”

Ace immediately whirled to look at him, his eyes gleaming. “Get us all gaming consoles!”

“Vetoed,” Grim said, immediately.

Ace whirled back around, his mouth dropping open in sheer offense.

“It’s his money, he should choose what to spend it on.”

Deuce pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly thinking hard.

And then he led them all back to a jewelry store they’d visited early on, thanks to Ace. Ace had taken a liking to the watches. Grim sighed, about to tell Deuce not to buy something just because Ace wanted it, that it was supposed to be for him…

But Deuce pointed at something on the wall. A pair of golden bracelets. Enchanted, judging by the price.

Upon closer inspection (of the plaque hanging on the wall, just below the price tag), they were enchanted so the wearers could get a vague read of each others’ emotions, so long as both of them were wearing their bands at the same time. Basically, it was the ultimate friendship bracelet.

Predictably, Trinity and Ace started bickering with each other over who would get it.

Deuce either didn’t notice this or was actively ignoring it. Either way, he was blushing bright red, looking at Grim imploringly. “If – if I get them, my mom won’t have to worry about us getting separated! She’ll always know if I’m safe or not!”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Ace and Trinity’s fight come to an abrupt halt, both of them sulking a little now that they knew it wasn’t for either of them. The smile that made its way across Grim’s face was partially out of relief. Deuce could never blatantly show favorites among his two friends, because that would surely lead to a blowup of some sort.

But he was mostly just smiling because this kid was a sweetheart.

“I have no problem buying that for you. I’m sure Delilah will love it,” he said.

Deuce beamed.

Grim clapped him on the shoulder, and then turned to the nearest store clerk. Within a few minutes, Deuce had a present for his mom, and Grim was much less rich. After a quick glance around, he realized they had kind of covered everything. As far as he could tell, all of the necessities were taken care of.

Which meant…

Oh no. The day was over. There was no more stalling it. They must return to the sheet debate.

Eventually, under threat of being stuck with brown sheets, they all compromised on a dark purple set… so long as Trinity got a light purple comforter to go with it, and Ace got to choose the fish’s name, and Deuce got to put glow-in-the-dark stars all over their ceiling.

They got home, every problem solved… only for Grim to look at all of the new stuff in his apartment and realize that every problem was not, in fact, solved. Because they had only bought the stuff, they still had to set it all up.

Hey, God! He was tired! Give him a break!

God did not give him a break, so he had to give himself one. After the room had been made livable enough for the kids to sleep in, and Deuce had been sent back home for the night, and the kids had been forced to brush their teeth (he could not comprehend why they hated it so much)... he dropped onto the couch and flicked the TV on.

Yeah, he could sleep. Just like he could breathe, could eat. In fact, Grim loved sleeping. It was a great way to pass time!

However, there were far more pertinent things to do.

Ah, his show. He had missed so much. The main leads had been about to confess, he swears!

Grim relaxed into the plush cushions, letting the prerecorded episode start playing.

… okay, they hadn’t confessed in this episode, but they would soon, he was sure of it.

He sighed, flopping back on the couch. Closed his eyes, the dull murmur of the TV playing in his ears. The kids had his bed, now, so here he would sleep. If he even could – the couch was comfortable, but only in the one place that had been properly broken in. He shifted around, awkwardly, for twenty long minutes that stretched into an eternity, before giving up entirely. He fumbled for his remote, starting to flip through channels…

Only the channels didn’t change. Because he’d turned the TV off in frustration when he’d realized that his ship wasn’t canon yet.

But he’d heard people talking…

He sat up slowly, listening intently for any whispers coming from the kids’ room. He didn’t hear any talking now, but they’d definitely been up for at least an hour after he’d put them to bed. Maybe he should have confiscated their phones? He had just assumed that they, as species that needed sleep, would actually do it, but perhaps that was foolish of him.

Grim tiptoed over to the door, and opened it, peering in.

Ace had once again curled along the perimeter of the bed, though there was now an actual nest for him to wrap around, a myriad of soft cloths he had taken a liking to and the occasional golden watch, in a loose ring shape.

Trinity lay in the center, her blanket abandoned once again.

… hugging Deuce.

When had Deuce come back?

Grim’s eyes flicked to the wall. They’d made a quick and easy, two-way portal between Deuce’s room and Grim’s kids’ bedroom. Now, the portal was glowing, the faint red warring with the blue and purple LEDs in the fish’s (named Lubert, because Ace was bad at naming things, too, apparently) tank. It had been used recently, that much was obvious.

He looked at the three kids, fast asleep, seemingly perfectly content…

And decided that it was fine, though he did send Deuce’s mom a quick text so she wouldn’t wake up and worry that her son had been stolen away. Again.

He sighed, quietly, letting the door click shut.

And then turned his attention to the kitchen. Well, they’d wake up in a few hours. He might as well spend the time learning to make breakfast.

He opened the fridge and immediately stopped cold – not only because of the cool air washing over him.

Other species need to eat! He’d forgotten to go buy groceries!

He grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote a quick note for the kids, in case they woke up before he got back, telling them he was at the store and to call him if they needed anything. He threw it, vaguely, towards the counter, not even bothering to make sure it landed right before he rushed out the door.

If anyone in the supermarket questioned why he was walking around the store, visibly panicking, they didn’t ask. Which was great, because he was pretty sure that it would not help with the whole panicking thing.

Okay. Okay okay okay. Let’s see. Calm down. Think. Faeries eat fruit. He’d seen Deuce eat watermelon. Perhaps for the high water content? Whatever, that should be easy to prepare. He should also grab a couple of water bottles, just in case.

Right! Next up! Dragons are carnivorous. Grim wondered if they could eat eggs. That was certainly a breakfast-y meal, but he didn’t want to risk it. No, he could ask that later, for now he would play it safe and prepare some kind of meat. Let’s see… oh! Bake-kujira was on sale… but did fish count as a meat? It should! Though, he supposed, the ghost whale’s meat was kinda see-through, and he wasn’t sure whether the un-undead could eat it. He grabbed a chicken breast instead. As an afterthought, he grabbed a spice bottle labelled ‘chicken seasoning’. Helpful!

Okay. Last but not least… witches could eat anything a human could. They preferred things that had once been alive, since that meant they could replenish their mana while also taking in nutrients – which meant, unfortunately, Trinity would likely never know the joy of eating a processed potato chip. Still, that gave him a lot to choose from… though he wasn’t sure what, exactly, would be considered nutritious. Maybe he could just give her the stuff he bought Ace and Deuce? Maybe a vegetable, too…

He grabbed a weird white plant labelled ‘cauliflower’. That was, probably, healthy!

He rushed to the checkout counter. The cashier, thankfully, didn’t comment on his somewhat haggard appearance. Though the kitsune did raise an eyebrow at his basket.

“Trying something new?”

“You have no idea.”

She gave him a mildly curious look. Her many tails swayed back and forth.“I’m guessing you’re not just talking about how you’re not buying tuna today.”

“I… adopted some kids,” he admitted.

It was the first time he’d actually said that aloud.

He… felt strangely giddy. It suddenly felt far more real. This wasn’t the plot of some dumb TV show he was watching, he was adopting kids. Two of them! And a third, kinda, in spirit! He was buying groceries, for his kids, who were sleeping peacefully back home. He was going to make them breakfast.

A wide smile threatened to steal across his face.

She hummed her understanding, smiling a little in return. “Congratulations! Have you figured out which school you’re going to send them to yet?”

He blinked.

~~~~~

P6>

[punsmaster69]

22/SEP/20XX

a skeleton and a goat went to pick up some books for her kid, but they ended up getting a bit distracted.

a bit 'fifteen-minute-trip' turning into 'spending three hours in the science and history sections' distracted.

what nerds.

arriving at the old goat's house, the skeleton told her all about his previous town's "librarby".

"Librar..by?"

"yup. said it right there, on the sign."

"it was a quaint little building. located right next to our house. i went pretty often."

"there was this news club that hung out in there. pretty few in members, but still writing interesting stories n whatnot."

"...well, i guess that was supposed to be their job, but it was more of a puzzle club than any news stuff."

"six short bookcases held all of the library's book inventory, organized by colour."

"books about the makeup and nature of souls, monster history, long-lost diaries..."

"read 'em all, front to back. maybe even back to front, once."

he could have probably recited each one by memory, at one point.

"the repetition might have gotten a bit boring, but it was better than nothing."

"Today was like paradise for us both, then."

he flipped through the pages of a fantasy-dungeon book, finding a drawing of a man-goat-hybrid monster.

"hey, this one kinda looks like you."

the old goat began also flipping through the pages of the book, eventually pointing at a drawing of the most grotesque creature she could find.

"And this one looks quite like you, does it not?"

"wow."

"...it's like looking in a mirror."

He pointed at the title of the image.

"it's even called 'the lonely', it really is me."

"Are you still 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 even with me around? I guess I will just have to bug you more often then!"

"..As long as you can promise you're not gonna get too wrapped up in all your nice, cool new books to meet with me."

"only if you can promise the same."

"they really were 'nice' and 'cool' today," thought the skeleton.

and he thought the books were neat too, i guess.

[zippiestdraws]

Choking Curiosity Ch 18

Michael Myers x ftm reader

Read on ao3

Laurie picks up on the last ring sounding out of breath.

You frown towards the phone. “You good?”

“Yeah, I just had to run up the stairs to reach the phone.” She breathes out. “So, you want to talk about yesterday?”

It’s less of a question and more of an expectancy with a verbal cringe.

“Mhm” you grimace, remembering. “Was he always like that? Because I can’t imagine you wanted to work with someone so…”

You blank on the descriptor. Perky. Flirtatious. Touchy.

“-Pushy.”

You can hear Laurie’s twitch over the phone “Ugh, He wasn’t like that when we met. He actually sounded smart, like an investigative reporter, ya know?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d send him over if he was creepy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came over while I was decorating outside a couple days ago and said you sent him, for like, an interview and stuff.” You gently remind her.

“I didn’t do that.” Her tone was grim, but your brain quickly rationalizes it for you.

“Well, it’s not like he couldn’tve just found the house on his own after talking to you, so it’s not that bad.” It wasn’t great either, but it’s easy to accept.

There’s a pause before Laurie responds.

“Hmm, maybe, but I still don’t like how he treats this like a game.”

You open your mouth to reply but she cuts you off in a fury.

“-use you as bait? Is he crazy?-”

“-Yeah, I didn’t like that very much. I mean, how does he expect me to-” you interject but then look around and speak softer like someone might hear. “Get a picture with his mask off?”

“Exactly. The shape wouldn’t take its mask off if it was on fire.” She sounded annoyed and angry, so you’re glad she couldn’t see the reaction on your face.

You draw a blank on what you were going to say next as the weight of her words hit you. The image of Michael’s face under the mask floats into your mind followed by a seeping guilt. The heat of attraction and shame burns across your cheeks as you spit something out to keep the conversation flowing.

“Do you- do you think we could pull it off?”, before you even finish your sentence you’re shaking your head and clarifying yourself with a stutter. “I mean, like physically take it- the mask- off, but I guess it could be the same thing if we could get away with it at all? anyway…”.

“Geez, you need to take a breath. But…I know how you feel. How scary the idea of seeing him again is after what he’s done to you.” Her jesting tone softening with empathy.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” The resoluteness of her statement is jarring, and you agree almost too quickly.

“I know. I mean- I trust you and I could always get a taser, so…” you end with an awkward laugh.

You already know that you aren’t in any danger. Or at least much danger.

Laurie makes a disapproving noise at your confidence but doesn’t say anything further. You suspect that she wants to quip about a taser not working against the shape, but holding back so as not to scare you. Thinking back, if he can stop a bat with his bare hands and survive gunshot wounds, you don’t think a taser would stop him either.

You have to excuse yourself to get ready for work later, but with a promise to get together at some point. Just the two of you, no Jed.

Your hands pull at your hair. It sucks to have to deceive Laurie, but now it feels like betraying Michael. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

He wouldn’t take his mask off if he was on fire. But he took it off for you.

Your shift ends after the library closes, but you put the books you borrowed in your bag to return through the book drop. Michael’s room is a mess and you find the one you gave him underneath the blankets where he sleeps, luckily not too worse for wear.

He isn’t home, so you don’t know how he’d react to you touching his things, but a small fantasy plays in the back of your head as you step out the door to work.

You can’t help it- living together is intimate and every so often your mind will wander to that tight black t-shirt and soft pink lips. And your hands will wander when you hear Michael’s soft groans under the shower spray…

The nippy weather is enough of an excuse to shield your flushed face with your hands by the time you arrive for work.

***

A steady stream of shoppers keeps you and Quentin pinned to the registers while Dwight makes the rounds and maintains stock. By the looks of it, Halloween is still on, considering nearly every customer has snagged one of the bulk candy packs from the sale section.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a child run towards the candy aisle.

“Oh-hey no running!-'' your words don’t land. You, Quentin, and the child’s parent watch as the child runs gracelessly into the M&M's display. The child hits the ground first, followed by the crash of cardboard and chocolate 3 long seconds later. After the kid notices everyone watching, they begin to cry.

Dwight, appearing at the other end of the aisle, simply sighs and heads toward the broom closet.

Finishing the last transaction at your checkout and flipping your light off, you nod to Quentin-the two of you have an almost nonverbal understanding at this point- and start performing first aid on the cardboard M&M man.

Dwight returns with a broom and dustpan and scoops a split bag of loose candy into it, before stacking up the intact ones to pile onto a spare shelf.

As you work, Dwight looks in your direction once before making some conversation.

“Oh, by the way, you left early from the cookout…”, he states rather neutrally.

You sweat, it had just seemed like time enough had passed that it wouldn’t be brought up.

“yeah, sorry about that, I was a little nervous to drive home after it got dark. I got lost a couple times trying to find the place.” you’re glad he isn’t looking you in the eyes. Had he seen?

“No wait, sorry, I mean-”, he apologizes in return, “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, I was going to ask cuz you missed it, David wants to throw a halloween party. Do you want to come?” Dwight stands and wipes his hands on his kakis.

You chuckle in relief, thinking of David, “you didn’t seem like the halloween type, but I’d love to. Where and when?” Laurie’s plan flashes in your mind after you reply, so you quickly tack on that you can’t make it on the 31st.

“I’m not! I had to have David promise not to jump out at me.” he looks exasperated. “Same place, on the 30th. Don’t worry, I have to work until six on Halloween, so I’m not going out either.”

He promises to tell you the time for it when he figures it out himself, and you head back up to the registers.

You stop, confused for a moment, when you see that there isn’t anyone up there. More specifically, Quentin isn’t at the register, but there’s only one person who seems to be waiting.

“Sorry about that, I hope we didn’t keep you wait-”

Brown curls, square glasses, beanie, smug looking face.

“Hmm~ hey (Y/n), fancy meeting you here.” Jed looks at you like you were exactly what he was waiting for.

“Yeah, hi…”, you log into the register to look anywhere but him, “I didn’t know you lived in the area.”

“Oh you know, I just had to pick up some stuff to get ready for the holiday, that’s all.” You look at his items. Bulk assorted candy, duct tape, trash bags, bleach. You swallow thickly.

“Now that I have you, is there any chance you’ve had a change of heart? I know you probably think you’re safe, but you never know what could happen.” He leans on the counter with his forearms and looks up at you with a pout as you finish the transaction. “I’m here to help you, (Y/n), but you act like you have some huge secret you’re keeping.”

You’re thankful that another customer enters your line and you don’t have much room for more than a ‘see you later’.

You finish your shift with a cold anxiety in the pit of your stomach and don’t look at Quentin whenever he returns.

*** Hugging your jacket close and looking behind you often, home doesn’t run up to greet you as fast as it should. Crossing the threshold suddenly drops the exhaustion of the day on your shoulders and you trudge up the stairs, wanting out of your work clothes an hour ago.

It takes a second to register in your brain, the sight of your bedroom door wide open with Michael in the middle of the room. Caught red handed (though, not literally) with his hands in your underwear drawer.

[ivory-lamps]

A20: ep.4 Night of that school

Characters: Netaro Location: HAMA Summary: One night at an old school building, Netaro asks a youth about what it means to feel “lonely”. Proofreader: Shay

Boy: What!? You’re saying you can change your face to look like Ryo Yoshizawa?

Netaro: Watch.

Boy: Woah!! That’s his face!! He’s so good-looking!!

Netaro: Hehehe~

Boy: Oh, you turned back.

Netaro: I like my current face right now.

Boy: Wow. So this is your favourite face? Did you base it off someone?

Netaro: It’s got the mysteriousness of Timothee Chalamet, Lee Dohyun’s beauty, Anya Taylor-Joy’s loveliness and a little sprinkle of Hideo Nakaizumi.

Boy: That’s one amazing combination…! All of them have strong facial features and one of them is even a woman!

Netaro: I picked those features from movies and dramas. I’ve got great taste, don’t I?

Boy: Yeah. I think it’s pretty nice…

Netaro: You think?

Boy: You can change your face to look like Ryo Yoshizawa like earlier, right? You could even add Tori Matsuzaka into the mix.

Netaro: Hmm, I wouldn’t mind trying that out next time.

Boy: You know, it’s all about looks in the end – first impressions aren’t important. They even say that… personality doesn’t matter as long as you have good looks.

I guess you don’t have to worry about that, Netaro. You’ll always be popular!

Netaro: Popu…lar…

Boy: Yep! It must be nice to be popular… I was a bit popular back when I was in Troop 2.

Netaro: What is this “popular”?

Boy: Huh…? Oh, it means that a lot of people like you.

Netaro: To be liked by a lot of people… Is that what you want?

Boy: Everyone wants to be liked by a lot of people!!

Netaro: Everyone!? All of humanity wants this “popular” thing!!?

Boy: By the way, Netaro, you finished reading all of the books I took out from that one corner of the library, right?

You read them all so quickly. I probably can’t take them out fast enough for you.

Netaro: Yep!

Boy: You’re so smart but you don’t know what popular means? Hehe… that’s so weird.

Netaro: I just learnt that popular means to be well-liked.

But why do you want it?

Boy: …Well, that’s because… it feels lonely being by yourself.

Netaro: Lonely.

Boy: …Don’t tell me you don’t know what “lonely” means, either?

Netaro: No! I’ve seen that word a lot. It appeared in the novel I read the other day.

See? Here. Where it says “female student”.

“She stood still in the corner of that somewhat gloomy kitchen, feeling extremely lonely…”

Will humans die if they feel lonely? I couldn’t find an answer even when I looked up the word in the dictionary you gave me.

Boy: “I’m suffering, I’m worried, I’m lonely, I’m sad – Just what on earth do all those things mean?”

Dazai likes this book.

Netaro… you don’t feel lonely? Maybe that’s why you don’t understand.

Netaro: I don’t understand!! Ahaha! I was told I was a nuisance because I understood too much! That’s something very exciting!

What does “lonely” mean? Tell me how it poisons humans and leads them to death!

Boy: Huh… me?

Netaro: You’re not popular right now, aren’t you? And you feel super lonely.

Boy: ……

Netaro: Then you can teach me about it, right~?

Boy: Uhh… well…

Netaro: Why do you want this popular thing? What sorts of desires lie at the source? Why do you want it so badly!?

Tell me, tell meeee~~!

Boy: A–Ahh…

It means we want to be loved!

Netaro: Oh~ To be loved!? So you’re saying you’ll feel “lonely” unless you’re loved?

Boy: Yeah! We want to be loved by someone, want to reciprocate their feelings and tell them that we were born for each other!! We want to do that and have the same thing done for us in return!

Otherwise, we won’t feel happy being alive in this world…!

Ugh… that was embarrassing… Don’t make me say stuff like this, geez.

Netaro: Why are your cheeks growing red?

Boy: I’m just a teenager, okay…?

Netaro: Ding! Wait, I’ve got it! “Love”, “lonely”, “happy” – those keywords…

When humans are loved, they feel happy and content, which has a good impact on their well-being… I think I read that somewhere.

It should be this one…

“When humans feel happiness, the subthalamic nucleus secretes a chemical substance that starts with serotonin…”

“There are over 100 different types, such as adrenalin, endorphin and GABA, but oxytocin is in charge of love and connections”... This part here.

Boy: Ohh…

Netaro: Hmm. Humans interact with others and when they love and feel loved, oxytocin is secreted in the brain.

That’s how humans feel happiness, apparently.

Boy: I see… It was kind of hard to understand, though.

Netaro: However.

Love comes in many different forms; for example, romantic love, friendships and familial love. However, romantic love is a dopamine-based love.

This happy hormone called dopamine must always be stimulated, otherwise it cannot continue to be secreted. Alcohol and other addictions are caused by the lack of this pleasure chemical.

This is the same as love! The dopamine secreted from one love will last 2 to 3 months before it begins to diminish. It will all be gone in 3 years.

In simple terms, it’s the “third year affair”!

Boy: I–I don’t really understand, but are you saying that romantic feelings will disappear in 3 years…?

Netaro: Yep! In terms of brain science, it’s impossible to rely on romantic feelings to stay happy forever.

Boy: W–Whaa!!?

Netaro: …Therefore! Friendships and familial love can exist perpetually and their value will not deteriorate. You should form oxytocin-based love if you want your wish to come true.

Boy: …… Friendships, familial love…

Netaro: Then you won’t be lonely.

Boy: …You really are amazing, Netaro.

I was at a loss for words because I was so impressed. Ahaha.

Netaro: I knew it – I’m a genius~

Boy: Yep.

Netaro: But…

Humans don’t try to understand the science that’s happening inside them. They worry, feel depressed and get lonely.

Moreover, some of them end their own lives.

They’re such rare intelligent lifeforms in the galaxy, but they’re so strange! Ahaha!

Bro: Ahaha! I guess you’re right about that.

Netaro: Ding! I’ve got a genius idea!!

I’ll make oxytocin and I’ll transmit it in place of your subthalamic nucleus!

Boy: No way! That sounds scary! Ahaha!

Netaro: I’m a genius so it won’t take long!

Boy: Doooon’t! Ahahahaha!

…Sigh.

Say, Netaro.

Netaro: What is it, Ohno?

Ohno: …Maybe I’ll make it next week – the day I disappear, I mean.

Netaro: Hm~? Didn’t you say that before?

Ohno: ……

Netaro: That sounds good.

After all, it’ll be nice to do it on a day where you can see the stars!

← Previous ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Index ≡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNext →