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tinfoil-jones · 3 months ago

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Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch.22

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

WARNING: non-consensual groping

First - Prev - Next

CH.22

Jingle

Click

Creeeakkk

“Hey fellers, I’m back! I hope ya’ll are ready for- hello?”

“F… Fiddleford…”

“Stanford? Where are you at? Why d’you sound so-.”

“L-Living room...”

“What in tarnation - Stanford, why’re you dressed like that? And why’re ya’ll laid back on the armchair like that?”

“Can’t… move. He left Naloxone on the coffee table… I can’t reach it… I’m paralyzed.”

“How did this happen?”

“Stanley got me with my own tranq gun…”

“Oh, for Heavens sake. Here friend, let’s get you that Narcan.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford. Stanley underestimated his ability to metabolize opioids, or he overestimated mine. It took sixteen hours for me to wake up, and I’ve still been paralyzed for the past six or eight.”

“Why would Stan do this? And did he switch clothes with you?”

“Yes.”

“...This makes me uncomfortable.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, I’ll explain as much to you as possible on the way down to my lab. Follow me!”

(...)

“So cosmic-level authorities placed you under arrest.”

“Yes.”

“And you tried to save your sorry hide by requesting a transdimensional trial by combat?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“And Stan - who has been to multiple planets and different dimensions - cut his hair, knocked you out, stole your spare set of glasses, and switched clothes with you to take your place?”

“Correct.”

“And you expect me to believe all of this?”

“Fiddleford, we scavenged several parts for my computer at crash site omega, you know extraterrestrials are real, why does this seem so far fetched?”

“That’s different! That ship was millions of years old, and long abandoned! Whatever left it behind should have died out eons ago.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder how I was able to decode the alien language so fast?”

“I imagine you put your doctorates in Linguistics and Etymology to use.”

“I tried to at first. But Stanley already knew that language, and translated it for me. Well, the major structures of words and sentences at least, cultural context was missing.”

“...I beg your pardon?”

“The language is called Gromflomish, it’s the standard language of the Galactic Federation due to the dominant species of that regime being the Gromflomites. Stanley learned it while he was galavanting in space.”

“Are you even listening to yourself right now?”

“Fiddleford, I understand that what I am telling you is a lot, and I am sorry we weren’t more forthcoming with you from the start; but we need to focus on rescuing Stanley.”

“How in Sam Hell are we supposed to do that?”

“When Stanley switched our clothes, he also switched our wallets. I imagine this was to avoid scrutiny if he was searched. I found some items of interest inside.”

“You didn’t search what was in it when you confiscated it the first time?”

“No. There was not a lot I expected to find in there given his lifestyle. I only did a precursory check for illicit substances. But what I found with a more in-depth search is… Interesting.”

*Ford quickly types on his computer, and pulls out a photograph and an I.D from Stans wallet*

“Who… are all of those strange characters and critters in the photo with him?”

“Apparently he was the bouncer for a group called the Flesh Curtains… a band made up exclusively of intergalactic criminals. And there is one member who can help us.”

“You want to call a space outlaw to help us find your brother?”

“Fiddleford, I will remind you Stanley is not just an ex-convict, he is also an intergalactic and interdimensional wanted criminal. And trust me when I say, I also very much do not like who I am about to send a beacon to.”

(...)

“Stanford Filbrick Pines, step forward.”

“Almost a whole day in ‘the hole’, just to drag me into court anyways? What happened to the Gladiatorial challenge?”

“SILENCE! You will be read your charges before you make your attempts to clear them in Globnar! First and foremost, your most heinous crime is Unlicensed Nightmare Fueling! You are wanted under suspicion of giving debilitating nightmares to the following individuals; Federico Fidel “Rico” Leiva Arias, Jorge Andrés Martelo Visbal, -”

‘Hey wait a second, these names…’

‘These are a from the list I gave to-’

‘Has he… has he been giving them nightmares?’

‘But why?’

‘Why would he…?’

‘Has he been doing that the whole time?’

“FURTHERMORE, a standard DNA scan has linked you to the crimes of the petty outlaw, and notorious first and second person to ever break into and out of the Infinetentiary; Staniel Danger Malone.”

‘Why did I ever let Rick submit the paperwork for my Federation I.D..?”

“REGARDLESS of what name you use, any crime committed that is linked to your DNA signature will be held against you, and can only be cleared by Globnar, or an imprisonment up to a number of Schwabe cycles equal to xn+1=rxn(1−xn), whereas x represents the amount of crimes you are convicted of. WHAT SAY YOU, The Accused?”

“Bring it.”

(...)

*Ford is heavily hugged from behind by a much taller figure, who practically drapes over him*

“Hey-Hey Stan! I was wondering when you’d call back. Took you long enough.

Has someone been trying to install tracking chips on you, by the way? I’ve gotten like, six notifications from how many have been shorted out in the past four months or so.

Didja miss me, Stan?”

“...Sanchez.”

“...”

“This is Dr. Stanford Pines, while I did send you that beacon, you are mistaking me for my identical twin brother, Stanley.”

“Huh, so I guess it was short for Stanley, I owe Birdperson a Kalaxian Crystal.”

“Please remove your hand from my groin. I will only request this once.”

“Wow, you two really must be identical, the way it fills my hand-.”

WACK

(...)

“So you’re Stan’s brother huh? You must be that thing he was looking for. Here I was, thinking he buried some gold somewhere.”

“Sanchez, we’ve met before.”

“Have we?”

“I attended several of the same classes in Backupsmore University as your late wife.”

“Hm, still not familiar, pal.”

"I have six fingers."

"So you'd be more expensive to animate, but I'm still blanking out here."

“We had a heated debate once because you claimed you solved the Hodge Conjecture.”

“Was it a heated debate? Really? Sounds more like whisky-over-the-rocks chat to me.”

“...Perhaps a bit more heated on my end.”

“Still not- Oh! Wait, I think I remember you now.”

“Good, now-.”

“You were that slutty shorts guy!”

“...Now, we need to discuss Stanley. My brother has recently been apprehended by the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadron. I called you here because I am aware you possess advanced transdimensional portal technology.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You want my help? What can you give me for it?”

“I was under the impression you and Stanley were friends.”

“When he calls me I could at least expect a booty call.”

*Fiddleford in the background clearly tenses up, and angrily crosses his arms*

“But you? I can tell just by looking at you that, the only thing you’ve ever fucked is your own sleep schedule. Also, you just gave me a black eye, so excuse me if I’m not feeling charitable.”

“Why you selfish, short sighted, arrogant-.”

“Wait, those plans over there? Are those yours?”

“Those are my schematics, actually, Mister Rick.”

“Hmm, interesting. A gun that wipes out memories based on a typed-in word, phrase, or concept? Looks like it can be edited to store what’s removed as well, what a mindblower. Tell you what, Ford, I’ll get you teleported over to your superior half, with a way back, but your little lab partner lets me study his invention.”

“Fiddleford?”

“If it's what it takes to bring him back… but I’m not gonna like it.”

“Alright, Sanchez. He’ll share his concept with you. But in exchange you need to help us find and retrieve Stanley.”

“Finding him is easy enough, I had a tracking device stored into one of his molars. It shorts out any lesser tracking device.”

“He said you didn’t alter his physiology.”

“Oh, he doesn’t know about it. The shady dentist he went to who surgically re-grew all of his missing teeth, he owed me a few favours.”

“I have no idea what Stanley ever saw in you…”

“Ha! You think your brother’s some kind of saint? He once took a rocket gun, said “I am the god of destruction”, and vaporized an unmanned warehouse full of Galactic Federation pharmaceuticals, because the local supply depot didn't accept the prescription pad that he forged, in English.

He got us both banned from The Gambling Dimension because he wrote a three hundred page manifesto on bribery called The Holy Brible, which created a new religion called Stanentology that became the third most practiced faith in the entire dimension. And then he kept advising his followers to overthrow the government, kickstarting The Crusades.

One planet has a picture of him in the dictionary when you look up ‘customer complaint’, because he sold them really shitty copper.

He did a keg stand with liquid ecstasy once. You think it sounds insane, me just saying it? Imagine what it was like to see it. He did a keg stand with liquid ecstasy.”

“I am sure your influence did not help.”

“Oh, definitely. I know I made him worse, but he was already fucked up when I met him. Also, Ford, not using contractions doesn’t make you sound smarter. Just confirms how much of a hubristic turd you are.”

“Are you going to show us where in the Sam hell he is or not?”

“That southern guy has more bite than you do, Ford. Buuut, a deals a deal. Here we go.”

*Rick takes a cable and connects his watch to Fords computer, and then begins typing*

“Alright hot dick let’s see where you managed to get yourself cornered this time.”

“Stanford, you better hurry when you find Stan. Because if you leave me with this man for too long…”

“Yes, he is insufferable, I understand.”

“There he is. He’s in the Time Dimension - in the Future City Court Room? Ouch. That isn’t good, he’s wanted by the jurisdiction of Future City because he broke into their maximum security prison to get me off, and also out, twice. And they’re still pissed about it.”

“But you’ve pinpointed his location?”

“Yes. But I’m not giving you my portal gun, you couldn't possibly even begin to understand how to use it. Instead, you’re going to put this watch on. Here.”

“Fine.”

“I’m going to open a portal that will drop you directly next to him. When you’re ready to come back, just press the button on the side of the watch, it’ll send me a notification that you’re ready to come back, and I’ll open another portal for you.”

“I won’t be long - Fiddleford, keep an eye on the place. Sanchez, behave yourself.”

“You really do have less bite to you than Stan does, he would have told me to go kill myself.”

“The day's still young, Sanchez.”

(...)

“[The winner gets a precious Time Wish, and then decides the loser's fate. And you are officially ch-.]”

“WAIT!”

*Ford suddenly drops out of a green portal vortex right next to Stan, who is still in shackles. The portal winks out instantly.*

“Doc?!”

“Stanley, I cannot believe you thought you had to save me from-!”

“Both of us.”

“Excuse me?”

“They were never just gonna charge you for your weird brain crimes… They were gonna charge you with my stuff, too. And my rap sheets a lot longer than yours.”

“I would have done it anyways!”

“I know you would, that’s why I had to trick you. By the way… about those nightmares you caused- why did you do it?”

“You know why.”

“EXCUSE US?! This is unprecedented! An imposter among us?”

“I am the real Stanford!”

“No, he isn't! Don’t listen to him, he’s crazy!”

“SILENCE! Timebot, run a DNA analysis of the interloper.”

“[Scan complete. DNA 102% match for the accused, with a 2% margin of error.]”

“Identical twins? Clones? How can we possibly tell the difference between them, Lolph?”

“That new one has six fingers, and his glasses still have their lenses.”

“Yes, but our reports never specified the number of fingers of the suspect. And the suspect was always reported to be wearing goggles designed for skiing.”

“Really, Stanley? You judged me for the outfit I chose, and yet you-.”

“Can it, PhD. We both know you just like playing dress-up.”

“Why don’t we use footage from the Infinetentiary Break to count the fingers?”

“We cannot reliably do so, the graininess of the footage is cleared up by an A.I that almost never gets the amount of fingers right.”

“Nah, you listen here ya future jerks, you can’t tell us apart! If you’re gonna take us, you’re gonna have to take both of us- in combat. I want to specify and put that to record right now, I mean take us in combat.”

“Stanley, why are you repeating that?”

“Trust me. This one time, just trust me. Specification is important.”

“[Agents Dundgren and Lolph, do you accept a challenge of two versus two?]”

“We accept. We have advanced, expert training.”

“And those two are just a pair of nobodies with many identities under their belts, but no true purpose with any of them.”

“Hey, doc?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna punch that guy.”

“Understandable.”

*A large hole opens up above the arena, and the Time Baby floats out of it, and the crowd in the arena goes wild*

“Welcome Globnar tributes! I have a very important nap to get to so let's make this quick. You each have a chance to settle your time-crimes through gladiatorial combat.”

“[You will have until Time Baby finishes drinking the cosmic sand in this hourglass.]”

“Get ready, Stans. When we win and decide your fate, you’ll both be subject to the maximum punishment under time law.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Stanley! Put the finger- fingers, down!”

“...Dundgren, why is the pudgy one giving us the universal symbol for good luck?”

“Maybe he’s taunting us by suggesting that we will need luck to beat them.”

“That one is tricky. I’ll be sure to stab him before he becomes a problem.”

To be continued…

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calaisreno · 10 months ago

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The Case of the Missing Bridegroom

The sequel to Reluctant Bridegroom. 1700 words / Prompt: Cold

Summary: Mrs Hudson does not make tea, Mycroft speaks in italics, and Sherlock goes for a walk.

Mrs Hudson is frowning at him; he gradually becomes aware that she’s been talking.

Blinking, he looks up. “Hm?”

“I said, do you like her?”

“Who?”

“Mary.”

“Oh, yes. She’s great. Are you making tea?”

Ignoring his implied request, she continues. “She seems clever.”

“Clever? Yes, she is. Quite.”

…only child linguist Clever part time nurse Shortsighted Guardian Bakes Own Bread Disillusioned Cat Lover Romantic Appendix Scar Lib Dem Secret Tattoo Size 12 Liar…

Liar.

That might be where to begin his investigation.

“Sherlock.” She clicks her tongue. “You must have known.”

“Known? What are you jabbering about, Mrs Hudson?”

“You must have known he’d move on while you were gone.”

He doesn’t have an answer for this.

“He’s just that kind of person,” she adds.

“The moving on kind?”

“No, he’s the staying kind, but you left. What was he supposed to do? He thought you were dead.”

Sherlock puts his head down and mumbles incoherently. Maybe she will take the hint and make tea. And bring up some biscuits as well.

“Sherlock.” She sits in John’s chair. “He’s not like you, love. Not a loner. He needs someone. He had you, and when you died—”

“He didn’t have me, Mrs Hudson. We weren’t like that.”

She gives him the look that means he’s an idiot. “Maybe not, but there was something there. And John needed that. He was lost without you. I’m sure he wouldn’t have found Mary if you’d come home a bit sooner.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll be very happy.”

She makes a scoffing noise. “You know that’s not true.”

He scoffs back at her. “As I understand it, people who are engaged to be married often go through a period of regret. Cold feet, it’s called. Fear of change. A reluctance to follow through. He’ll get over it.”

“Will he?”

Before Mrs Hudson can explain to him why he’s wrong, his phone buzzes with a text.

John’s missing. M

It takes him just a second to realise it’s Mary.

He never came home last night. Won’t answer my texts. M

I’ll find him. SH

Liar. He opens his phone and begins to type a message. Before he can hit send, his phone rings.

“He’s not an idiot, Sherlock.”

“Where is he, Mycroft? I know you have surveillance on him. What I want to know is why?”

“Let’s just say, he’s attracted the attention of someone we’ve been watching. You need not worry.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mycroft, I’m not in the mood for—”

“Miss Morstan. What do you know about her?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you know? As I recall, you said you’d keep Moriarty’s London people away from him.”

“She’s not one of Moriarty’s. Just a freelancer, recently retired.”

“When were you going to tell me? More importantly, when were you going to tell John?”

“Doctor Watson is not an idiot, as I’ve said. His decision to propose to her was rash, I thought, but I’m fairly sure he’s having cold feet since you have returned.”

Mycroft speaks in italics only when he’s amused, Sherlock notes. “Just tell me where he is.”

“I think you can deduce,” Mycroft replies.

I must be getting slow, he thinks. He’s just been to all the places John used to go when he ‘needed some air’ and slammed the door of the flat behind him. He’s been to five pubs, popped into three coffee shops, and walked the perimeter of the park twice.

Home again, he sits on the stairs, conceding defeat.

His phone rings.

“Mycroft.”

“It’s very simple, Sherlock. He’s gone home.”

He nods. It would have been nice if Mary had texted to say—

“Home, Sherlock.”

His head jerks up. Ending the call, he runs up the two flights to John’s room. He knocks and cracks the door open. “John?”

The shape in the bed stirs, rolls over and blinks at him. “Sherlock?”

“John, what are you doing here?”

“Needed to think.” He sits up. “Went around the park a few times last night after I left. More than a few. Decided to sleep here.”

Sherlock steps into the room. When John lived here, Sherlock rarely respected his privacy, barging into the room at any hour. Now, it feels like an invasion.

“May I?”

John nods, and Sherlock sits on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“You always told me I see but do not observe. I’m a bit slow, but I did actually learn a few things living with you.” He smiles. “After you died, I could barely cope. I sleepwalked through every day. And then, you came back, and it was like I woke up.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be so affected.”

“I believe you. As angry as I’ve been, I have forgiven you. Since you came back, I’ve been awake. And I’ve noticed things… that disturb me.”

“What things?”

“In the cab going home that night, Mary kept talking, and I just had this feeling… she wasn’t who she said she was. So I did what you would do. I investigated. I called her job references. I looked up her employment history. I went through her things when she was out. And I made a deduction.”

“Yes?”

“I think you already know, Sherlock. Mary didn’t exist until a couple years ago. I don’t know who the woman I’m engaged to is, but Mary Morstan was an infant who died in 1972. Stillborn. She’s borrowed a name, made a new life. And for some reason, she took a job at my surgery.” He looks at Sherlock. “Maybe she has a good reason, but my spidey-senses are tingling.”

“Spidey-senses?”

“Spider Man. He can always sense danger.”

“Well, you always did. You knew whenever I was getting myself into trouble. So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tell her the truth.”

“You should know, Mycroft’s people have been watching her. She’s freelance, recently retired. It might not be good to confront her with what you know. She may feel cornered, and that could be dangerous.”

“Not that truth, Sherlock. I don’t need to know who she is, but I’m not going to marry her.”

“But… what reason will you give?”

“I’ll tell her…” John looks down at his hands, licks his lips, and whispers, “I’m in love with my best friend.”

“You’re in love with Mike Stamford? Inconvenient, as he’s married and has four—no, five children.”

“Mike is not my best friend.”

“Gavin?”

“Who?”

“Gavin Lestrade.”

“Sherlock, Greg is a friend, but not my best friend. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh. You’re— I see. You will pretend you’re in love with me, which will soften the blow and allow her to bow out without compromising her assumed identity—”

“Sherlock, I’m not pretending I’m in love with you. I really am in love with you. I know you don’t do that—love is a dangerous distraction, sentiment on the losing side, blah, blah… That’s okay. If you’ll let me, I’d like to move back here. I not asking for—”

He doesn’t remember grabbing John and kissing him, but when his brain comes back on line, they’re lying on John’s bed, and John’s looking at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

John loves him.

“I won’t pretend,” he tells John. “No fake relationships. If you’re going to make love confessions like that, just casually dropping I love yous on me, you’d better be prepared for the real thing. I love you. And just so you understand me properly, only one bedroom will be needed.”

John laughs. “Well, that went better than I expected. Now I only have to break up with Mary.”

Sitting up, Sherlock grabs his phone and texts Mycroft. “The British Government can handle that, I think. Now, kiss me.”

@keirgreeneyes @totallysilvergirl @redmondcollege @lisbeth-kk @ninasnakie

#mayprompts2024 #my fics #johnlock

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autumnshighlady · 1 year ago

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A Lesson in Language

Fëanor x female!reader

part of The Professor Series

summary: challenging your linguistics professor is your favourite past time, until he decides it's time for you to face consequences for it

warnings: smut, power dynamic, daddy kink (only a little bit at the end), rough oral sex (m receiving), hate sex, roughness, Fëanor is a raging asshole

word count: 4.4k

request: Professor Feanor x reader? With fiery smut and snarky student reader ;) I was thinking something like he’s a linguistics prof (since he did come up with a new system of writing) and he teaches this one course that reader needs to graduate but she’s annoyed that he teaches it’s either his way or nothing at all so she argues with him all the time in office hours for her marks and etc?

So since we seem to be imagining everybody as a professor: Feanor. He'd be mean, and condescending, and the gods may help you if you're not good in his class (wth is he even teaching, he's good at everything💀) But if you're his best student, and a bright mind beyond class assignments? You'll want the gods to help you for wholly different reasons.

a/n: Fëanor is a massive douche in this fic ladies pls never let a man treat u like this lmao

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You rolled your eyes as you doodled in the margins of your notebook, trying to ignore Professor Fëanor’s arrogant voice echoing in the classroom. He was droning on about pragmatics, a topic you had mastered last year already. You hated this class – it was tedious at best, and like watching paint dry at its worst. The only reason you were begrudgingly taking it was because it was your last requirement for graduation, as the class involved drawing up your own research study instead of a final exam. Everyone who was in this class took it for one of two reasons – either they were the same as you and just needed it for graduation, or they were lovestruck morons enamoured with the professor.

Admittedly, he was an attractive male. His long, raven-black hair suited his sharp face, with grey blue eyes that surveyed the class like a hawk, picking on daydreaming students to answer difficult questions. He was always impeccably dressed, and spoke with more confidence than anyone you had ever met. Yet he was arrogant and stubborn, insisting his way was the only way to learn linguistics. He spoke to his students as if they were dumb, incapable of being anywhere near his level of knowledge. And it irritated you beyond belief.

You were well known amongst your peers for getting into arguments with the professor. Dr. Fëanor had a nasty temper that frightened most, but amused you. You were the only student who didn’t hesitate to challenge him and stick up for yourself when he decided he wanted to bully his students. You were confident in your linguistic skill set, marching to his office to argue your grades whenever he gave you a shitty mark. You could tell it infuriated him, how his best student didn’t kiss his ass like he had clearly expected you to.

“Am I interrupting your artistic time, (Y/N)?” Dr. Fëanor’s bored voice sounded a few feet away from you, snapping you back to reality. You looked up, and he was standing in front of your table, glaring down at you. The students beside you shrank back, afraid to be caught up in the professor’s wrath. But you didn’t back down, only sighing and looking up to meet his gaze.

“What was that, sir?” You asked, widening your eyes and faking innocence knowing damn well it would piss him off further.

“You haven’t been paying attention to a single thing I’ve said all week.” He snorted. “How you are my top student is beyond me, with such a short attention span.”

“I’ve been paying attention, sir.” You lied, bringing your elbows to rest on the table.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then you won’t mind a little pop quiz, just for you?”

You shrugged. “Fire away.”

“What are the three airstream mechanisms in phonetics?” His shoulders were tense, a sign of his visible annoyance towards you.

Your answer rolled off your tongue. “Pulmonic, glottalic, velaric.”

“Define a morpheme.”

“The smallest meaningful unit of language. It must have a meaning of its own, either lexical or a grammatical function, and it must be minimal, not containing any smaller units that have meanings of their own.”

“And what are the four maxims of conversation?”

“Quality, quantity, relation and manner.” You smiled, watching your professor’s face get redder as you answered his questions easily.

“Name the distinctive linguistic properties of Quenya that make it differ from Sindarin.” Dr. Fëanor smirked, cocking his head arrogantly. You knew he would ask this question, it was too predictable. He was the master of Quenya, having played a huge role in the development of the language and construction of the Tengwar alphabet.

But as usual, he underestimated you. You took a breath, pretending to think for a moment before lifting your chin and meeting his gaze once again. “Where do I begin?” You said confidently. “Quenya is a more complex agglutinative language that strings morphemes together into long words using an inflectional system with a flexible syntax, while Sindarin has a much easier to follow language structure. Quenya uses 5 tenses to conjugate, Sindarin has 6 and words often begin with vowels whereas in Quenya, they typically end in vowels. They both use the structures SVO and OVS structures, but Sindarin uses VS and VO, although it lacks the OSV structure that Quenya has. Additionally, Quenya adopted case endings for nouns in nominative and genitive cases, using the dual plural to represent plural form since it lacks a definite article to mark the regular plural. Would you like me to go on, sir?”

The entire class was utterly silent. No one dared breathe in the moments following your monologue as you waited for your professor to reply. You expected him to yell at you, maybe throw a manuscript at your head. But he didn’t move. It began to make you uneasy, and you noticed a strange look cross his face for a half second before he finally spoke.

“I’ve heard more than enough from you for one class.” Fëanor’s voice was leathally calm, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the lecture, and pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your pen and sitting back in your chair as the professor continued his lecture. You crossed your legs, making your skirt hike up on your thighs, but you were too annoyed to fix it. Your professor was an arrogant bastard who couldn’t comprehend that not everyone around him was as dumb as rocks. But your skin flushed as you drifted off into one of your many daydream scenarios of Fëanor bending you over his desk and taking his anger out on you. You just knew he was rough and dominant in bed, having fantasised about being on the receiving end of that fire within him.

Your daydreaming was cut short as the professor began distributing last week’s quizzes back to the students. He didn’t acknowledge your presence as he ungracefully dropped yours in front of you. You noticed quickly a note was attached to it, that read:

Be in my office at 5pm tonight. We need to have a talk about your attitude.

You sucked in a breath. This was new. Not once had he invited you to his office – you were there of your own volition often enough to challenge him about your marks. You wouldn’t be surprised if he put up a sign on his door barring you specifically from entering. You knew he hated your visits to his office, so why invite you now? Talks with your professor about your attitude were done in public, specifically to try and humiliate you.

You folded up the note and slid it into your pocket, nervousness beginning to churn in your gut. Was he going to fail you out of spite? You’d be unable to complete your degree if he did that. While Fëanor was an arrogant asshole, you didn’t think he was cruel. Or at least you hoped so.

Tears began to well in your eyes as the possibility of failing dawned on you. Perhaps there were consequences to mouthing off to your professor after all.

*******************

A few hours later, you knocked at the elaborate wooden door to Fëanor’s office, then wiped your face one last time. You had spent an hour in the bathroom attempting to fix your makeup and conceal the evidence of your tears and failing, miserably. Your mascara was wet, giving you more of a smokey eye look than you had intended. Your smudged face was a stark contrast with your perfectly put together outfit – a short brown pencil skirt and tall boots, paired with a tight fitting, slightly cropped t-shirt. You felt ridiculous now, going to your professor’s office like this, but you had no other choice.

“Come in. And close the door behind you.” His deep voice echoed from inside the office, and you pushed the heavy door open. His office was its usual organised mess, manuscripts and books everywhere, laid out across every sitting space available save for the single chair in front of his desk. The room glowed orange from the roaring fireplace off to the side, making it look more like an ancient cave than an office.

You carefully walked over to the chair in front of the desk, clasping your hands in front of you.

“Sit.” Fëanor ordered, finally glancing up at you when you hesitated. “Unless you prefer to kneel on the floor?”

Your face burned bright red as you scrambled into the chair, ignoring the way his insinuation made your thighs tingle with need. He ignored you for a few minutes, continuing whatever he was translating on his desk. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do. None of your interactions had ever been like this – quiet, suspenseful, behind closed doors. No, it was always bickering arguments that turned heads in the hallways. Something was different about him.

“Do you know why I really called you in here today?” He asked, still not looking up. His long hair was tied back, except for a few loose strands that hung around his face as he wrote.

“To fail me.” You said quietly.

He barked a heartless laugh. “Gods, no. Failing you would mean I’d have to endure a whole extra semester of your arrogant attitude. I refuse to put myself through that.”

You felt all nervousness fade away, quickly replaced by that hot anger only he seemed to be able to get out of you. “I’m arrogant?” You snapped. “Take a look in the mirror.”

Fëanor’s writing ceased, and his grey blue eyes met yours and narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard what I said.” You fired back, unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “You’re the arrogant one here, sir. You try to belittle me every time I prove myself to be smart because you can’t imagine that everyone around you isn’t a complete imbecile.”

You expected the male to snap back, to call you an idiot and ask how dare you say these things to him. Truthfully, you couldn’t believe you were saying these things either. All your arguments had been about the material so far, veiled insults hidden beneath your words. Never were you this open, this bold, about how you felt.

“Anything else?” He said in a bored manner.

“Yeah, you’re a real prick.” You continued your angry rambling, sick of being looked down on by this male. “You know as well as I do that I’m your best student, yet you treat me like the problem kid at the back of the class. It’s ridiculous, and the only reason you do it is to feel better about yourself. Am I wrong, sir?”

A long pause followed, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. If you weren’t going to fail before, you definitely were now. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You simply sat there, eyes locked with your ill-tempered linguistics professor. After a few minutes, you couldn’t take it anymore, averting your gaze to inspect a loose thread on your skirt.

“Do you know why I’m such an arrogant… prick, did you say?” He stood up, walking around to the front of his desk and leaning against it, crossing his large arms. “Because I’ve earned it. I invented the Tengwar script and am the most knowledgeable person on the Quenya language there is. I have created and invented things that nobody else has, and nobody will ever come close to achieving what I have achieved. I have earned my arrogance, you have not. You’re just a little girl who’s in way over her head.”

You saw red, angrily pushing back the chair as you stood up to challenge him . Fëanor was a good foot taller than you, making you strain your neck to meet his gaze. “Call me a little girl one more time, I fucking dare you.” You hissed.

“Or what?” He smirked. “You’ll cry? Just like you did before you came in here?”

Your jaw went slack, “Wha–”

Fëanor scoffed, pleased with himself. “Oh, please, don’t even try. It was written all over your pretty face. I like it covered in tears, by the way. It’s a good look on you.”

WIthout thinking, your hand reached up and connected with his face, a dull slap echoing throughout the office. “Fuck you.” You spat, turning to storm out before you could face the consequences of hitting your professor.

But Fëanor was faster, his large hand firmly clasping around the hand you just slapped him with and yanking you back around to face him. His other hand grabbed your other wrist, and no matter how much you squirmed against it he didn’t budge. His eyes were dark as he pulled your hands up and across each other, pushing them into your chest as he stepped even closer to you.

“You wish.” He purred mockingly. “Isn’t that right? Is that not one of the reasons why your attention drifts off in class? Because you’re fantasising about being bent over my desk and fucked until you can’t remember your own name?”

“You think way too highly of yourself–” You tried to defend yourself, but he cut you off as if you hadn’t even said anything.

“You think I’m blind? That I don’t notice how you always wear those revealing outfits on the days you have my class. Don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look on you.”

You thrashed in his grip, ignoring the effect his words had on you. “Let me go right now you self righteous, narcissistic–”

“Kneel.”

That made you freeze. “Excuse me?”

“You really need to learn how to shut up.” Feanor growled. “And that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve had enough of that mouth of yours, it’s time to make it useful for once. Now kneel.”

You were utterly dumbstruck, unable to do anything as your professor gave you a shove, making you fall to your knees on the ground in front of him. The wooden floor made your joints ache, but you knew better than to protest.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Fëanor began, the sound of his belt unbuckling distinct in the background. “Do you think you can follow simple instructions for once?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, throat dry with anticipation for what was about to happen.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He paused his movements, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at his towering form. “I’m going to stuff that smart mouth of yours with my cock, and you’re going to take it like the desperate little slut I know you are. If you please me enough, I will bend you over this desk and fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. And you’ll have learned your lesson to keep your mouth shut when I tell you to, understood? Is that simple enough for you to understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated, trying to keep the shake out of your voice. Your core throbbed at his words, exactly as dominant as you imagined him to be.

Fëanor finally unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to his feet along with his boxers, revealing the thickest cock you had ever seen. Your jaw dropped, but you didn’t even care that you had just boosted his ego. All you could think about was how it would possibly fit.

“What’s the matter?” He mocked. “Too big for you? Scared you won’t be able to take it? You’ll be able to take it because I’ve told you so. Now open.”

You parted your lips, letting your professor slide his cock between them. You sucked on the tip, earning a groan of pleasure from the male above. Forcing your jaw to relax, you took him deeper, aching with the stretch.

Without warning, Fëanor impatiently grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down further. Tears blotted your face as you gagged around him, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned with having you come up for air, forcing you to breathe through your nose.

He set a rough pace, guiding your head up and down his cock as far as it would go without making you gag too much. Your mascara began to run down your face, and you made sure to keep eye contact with him despite the strain on your throat.

“There’s a good little slut,” Fëanor growled, tightening his grip on your hair as he thrusted faster. “I told you you looked better with tears running down your face.”

You couldn’t protest with his cock around your mouth, so you only whimpered, focusing on taking him deeper. You sucked hard with each stroke, letting your tongue run along the vein underneath his shaft as you bobbed your head. Your professor moaned shamelessly above you, a sound that set your nerves alight.

Mindlessly, your hand wandered between your legs, attempting to relieve some of the pressure building there. Your fingers hadn’t even grazed your panties when Fëanor halted his movements, holding your head down at the base of his cock.

“Don’t even think of touching yourself.” He hissed angrily. “I didn’t give you permission to do so. Try it again, and I won’t let you cum. Got it?”

You nodded around the base of his cock, whimpering. Your jaw was in agony, stretched to the max to accommodate his length. When he finally moved your head once again, you doubled your efforts, determined to make your arrogant professor fall apart. You sat on your hands for good measure, trying to avoid the temptation to ignore his orders altogether.

Fëanor began thrusting his hips to meet your mouth a few minutes later, his pretty eyes screwing shut as he tilted his head back. “Fucking swallow every last drop.” He grunted between thrusts, his grip on your scalp tightening right before his cock twitched in your mouth. He came with a loud groan, shooting spurts of warm liquid down your throat. You kept bobbing your head, sucking up every last drop and letting it slide down your throat. He panted, hips sputtering as you sucked him dry before finally pulling your lips off him. Your jaw ached like never before, but you were strangely proud of yourself. The image of your high strung professor climaxing into your mouth would be forever burned into your mind.

“Looks like you’ve earned your reward after all.” Fëanor grabbed you by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto his desk with impressive strength. You didn’t have time to ask if you should move the papers on his desk before his mouth crashed into yours. His lips were hot and dominating, overwhelming your senses. You barely had time to kiss him back before he was pulling away, attaching his lips to your neck and biting down, making you cry out. He sucked and bit every inch of your throat in a manner you knew would leave dark bruises the next day, undoubtedly an intentional choice on his part.

You felt your shirt being yanked up, Fëanor quickly pulling it over your head along and ripping your bra off then tossing both items somewhere behind him. His calloused hands eagerly grabbed your breasts, squeezing hard. You squirmed under his touch, wanting to get away from the harshness of it but also needing more somehow. Fëanor’s mouth assaulted your breasts, biting the soft flesh firmly before taking your nipple in his teeth and flicking the bud with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck.” You couldn’t help but moan, tilting your head back.

“You like this?” Fëanor teased, lifting his mouth from your breast momentarily before hovering over the other one. “You like it when I’m rough, treating you like a dirty little whore? Leaving marks all over your body so you know that you’re my property, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!” You cried out as he sucked at your other breast. It was overwhelming, his hands were everywhere except where you needed them most.

As if he read your mind, Fëanor pulled away, ripping his shirt over his head to reveal the most sculpted abs you’d ever seen. The bastard stood there for a moment, proudly watching you admire his form. Gods above, you’d never be able to focus in class again after seeing his muscles.

He reached down and roughly tugged your skirt and panties down, exposing your glistening cunt. Fëanor plunged a finger into you without warning, pressing a thumb to your clit and making you see stars. His mouth found your neck again as you squirmed under his touch, a hand reaching around your back and pressing you into his frame.

“You’re a fucking mess,” He growled into your neck, adding in a second finger and stretching your hole. “All for me, isn’t that right? I’m going to break you, my dear. Break you into a thousand pieces and put you back together so I can do it all over again and make you mine.”

You whined, feeling your muscles clench around him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were approaching your orgasm faster than you ever had in your life. “I’m close…” You mumbled through shallow breaths, legs beginning to twitch.

He smirked. “I know.” Was all he said before roughly pulling his fingers away, right before you could make the final stretch towards the edge.

“What the hell!” You exclaimed, angry. Before you could cuss him out, his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

“What did I tell you about keeping that pretty mouth shut?” Fëanor growled. “I would threaten to stuff it with my cock again, but you’d probably enjoy that too much. Guess I’m just going to have to fuck you so hard you scream and lose your voice.”

He roughly turned you around, pushing you by your neck so you were stomach first down on the desk with your feet still on the floor. You breathed heavily, grasping the edge with your fingertips as Fëanor lined his cock up to your entrance. You forced your body to relax, knowing it was going to hurt at first.

His hands found your hips and he slammed into you, almost knocking the wind right out of your lungs. You barely had time to catch your breath and acknowledge the stinging stretch between your legs before he pulled out and did it again, setting a brutal pace. You began to scream, fully screaming in pleasure and pain as Fëanor pounded into you relentlessly. You couldn’t even think straight, all logical thoughts about there possibly being people in the hallway that could hear you as you cried out over and over again.

Fëanor’s grip on your hips was almost bone shattering, his thick cock slamming into your g-spot faster than anyone had ever fucked you. He was right, your entire body would be sore tomorrow. In fact, you’d be lucky if you were able to walk to class. Fëanor’s thrusts were so powerful, you were sure he was going to split you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

You loved being bent over your professor’s desk, unable to think about anything else aside from how hard he was fucking you. The male you had had verbal sparring matches with for weeks was taking his frustration out on you, and you loved it. You enjoyed being at his mercy, feeling things nobody else had been able to make you feel.

Fëanor grunted, reaching one hand down and rubbing your clit. “You cum when I say you cum, got it?”

You nodded, whimpering as you felt your body try and pick up where it left off. You begged it to keep your orgasm at bay, knowing Fëanor would be less than happy if you came without his permission. So you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think about anything else.

He thrusted into you for what seemed like hours, to the point where your legs had gone almost numb. You were a sobbing mess, fighting to stop yourself from climaxing all over his cock. The papers on his desk were stained with your tears, and your determination to not beg him for anything snapped.

“Please let me cum.” You sobbed pathetically.

Fëanor only increased his pace on your clit, smirking as he pounded you. “Aw, are you crying again? Poor little thing is so desperate to cum for daddy, isn’t she?”

Daddy. Your brain went haywire. Normally, you were not into the whole daddy kink, but the way Fëanor said it changed something in you. You whined, nodding. At this point, you’d say whatever to get him to let you cum. “Please, daddy, I need to cum,” You cried, body shaking. “I’ll do anything you want, please just let me finish.”

Fëanor groaned behind you, his cock twitching inside of you, evidence of his pleasure with your response. “That was pathetic,” He grunted. “But I’ll let it slide. Cum for me, slut. Cum now.”

Your body let go before he finished his sentence, the dam that had been holding your orgasm back bursting, letting the climax wash over your body. You cried out, voice breaking with hoarseness as your legs twitched violently, your grip on the desk and Fëanor’s hand on your hip being the only thing keeping you from sliding onto the floor.

The world spun around you, and at one point you were pretty sure you lost consciousness. As you came down from your high, Fëanor moaned loudly, pulling out and stroking his cock while jutting his hips forward. Thick spurts of cum landed on your back mixing with the sheen of sweat already there. His loud groan echoed throughout the office as you panted, your entire body feeling both completely wrecked and on cloud nine at the same time.

You tried to speak, but no words came out. Your vocal cords were shot, jaw aching with every movement. You didn’t even hear Fëanor retreat, but he returned with a towel, gently wiping the seed off your skin. You wanted to thank him, but couldn’t. In fact, you weren’t sure if you could even move.

Fëanor chuckled, bundling up your clothes and setting them beside you. He placed a glass of water to your lips, tilting it back and letting you eagerly drink it up. “You’re excused from Thursday’s lesson,” He said smugly. “Only because I know you won’t be able to get out of bed to get to class. Let this be your lesson learned not to question me, or call me an arrogant prick. Got it?”

You nodded weakly, defenceless, and knowing your linguistics class with Dr. Fëanor would never be the same.

#amara's professor series #feanor #feanor x reader #feanor smut #feanorians #the silmarillion #the silmarillion x reader #tolkien #jrr tolkien #middle earth #lotr #smut

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fanaticsnail · 8 months ago

Note

Physics anon here. To the anon taking Physics I, then you should be fine. I hope you get in! Fingers crossed! 🤞🏻🤞🏻

To the math peeps, I am choosing to be Sanji for our duel, bcs even Sanji's flaming kicks are also physics based (/j). I love you all. Your love for math scares me but I also admire you guys because I had 2 breakdowns in my high school years over math (so fun). The only math I like is the "how much percentage in a tax is there" cus that has words and normal numbers. Get algebra away from me.

To the linguistics anon, I love you, be my best friend, I love humanities, I love linguistics, I love psychology, I love sociology, I can talk about them for days! I love humanities, in fact I would argue humanities and literature are sth I ADORE.

PLS GOD LINGUISTICS ANON TELL US SOME OF DOFFY'S LINES AND THE WAY HE SPEAKS, OH AND CROCODILE, TOO, AND ALL THE LITTLE PUNS ODA MAKES.

DO WE HAVE PSYCHOLOGY ANONS HERE BECAUSE EPISODE 723 DOFFY'S LAUGHING FIT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT I NEED TO STUDY IT FROM A PSYCHOLOGY POV like my brain is like needy for that like the ideas are there but I cannot put them into words. It sounded like an emotional breakdown and he sounded so sad but also angry so I was not sure whether he wanted a hug or not.

Also, Snail, I do not blame you for that nsfw thought of "how fucked would you be" bcs I had the same thought but was then "oh well 😏"

Okay, so G4 Luffy's speed calc? I'll try to find my notes but if anyone wants to play around it, here are the formulas you'll need & way of solving it all, it's really pretty simple, we are using Hooke's Law of elastic force to calculate Luffy's speed. We're gonna already give the spring constant cus it's easier and it's easier to show just how MUCH force Luffy needs for such speed.

Jet Speed of a commercial plane is 252 m/s. We'll go with this being G2 speed. Okay, easy. We will need a LOT of spring constant to counteract G4 Luffy's weight which is 300kg. Like, a LOT of spring constant. That means Luffy is also using a lot of elastic energy & kinetic force. And I mean above 10 million joules. Then again, joules represent a small amount of energy. It takes 100,000 joules to heat up water in standard conditions, so it isn't that much of a stretch. (Ha, rubber pun.)

Basic thing for this...

Elastic potential energy:

Ep = 1/2 • k • x²

k = spring constant (make it 40 million)

x = compression of the spring (make it 1 meter)

No need to calculate the Ep cus that isn't what we really need, though you can if you want to make the process quicker but this is so everyone understands.

Turn that into kinetic energy:

Ek= 1/2 • m • v²

m = mass of the object, G4 Luffy's weight, 300 kg since he is 4 meters tall in G4.

Equalize them:

1/2 kx²=1/2mv²

kx²=mv²

v²= kx²/m

v= √kx²/m (under the entire square root)

I got 365 m/s. That's 1314 km/h. That exceeds commercial jet-speed.

I can go into details in another post but this is the basics of it, unless you want to start from the actual scratch which I do not recommend bcs that means you have to put more big numbers to get the k that big. Better to already decide what the k is so we can get the big force and therefore big speed. We know the force needs to be big, as Doflamingo said it himself.

"Your punches lack heaviness." aka "Put a billion Newtons in it and then you'll have a shot against me."

To put it in irl perspective, billion joules is the equivalent of about 239 kilograms (527 pounds) of TNT blowing up.

Honestly I'm thinking the force of Luffy's final punch against Doflamingo was at least 8 billion Newtons. It's... A lot, but at this point, there are no limits. It's about 1.8 billion pounds force 👍🏻

Yeah. 😄

Cheers. Don't fight in Snail's inbox, you all from all fields are amazing ❤️

Physics anon. Physics anon. Oh my gosh, I am simply blown away by this calculation. Oh my gosh, the work you've done. I can't wait til chef-husband comes home to share with him this amazing calculation, you have no idea. He's gonna go:

The anon love for one another in my ask box lately is absolutely superb. I love the friendly fire and witty retorts you've all got. Always respect and humour, and I love you all.

The calculations of the hands Doffy caught from our short king of the pirates has me rolling. I'm legit howling.

Keep your equations coming, I love them. Learning through the power of sums and passions of the anons. Superb work 🥰🖤

#one piece #ask snail #snail answers #calculations #physics anon #I'm saving your other ask for a mini fic because its so funny #being crushed by doffy? yes please

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babblydrabbly · 3 years ago

Text

The Audit || Rick Flag x Reader || Professor AU || Pt 3

FROM EDEN Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Smut - 3k words - warnings: language. dom!rick. pet names. kissing. oral (m receiving). facefucking. masturbation (f). implied captain boomerang x blackguard. Rick is about 45-50. Reader is around 30.

A/N: thank you to @loverhymeswith for beta reading ♡ sorry for all the different formats with these posts, im trying to see what works. anyway, enjoy some professor boomerang in this one too. Part 3/?

[Gif]

You visit Rick on campus and get a taste of his work life.

“Excuse me.” You approach the man in his mid-thirties, mistaking him for a student.

You navigated the campus well enough as you strolled toward your destination on foot. But at the top of the hour, just as you entered the Humanities building, you were swarmed with hundreds of students hurrying off to their next classes, turning you all around as you searched for the right room.

Digger Harkness glares up from his phone. He wears a thick wool coat and sweater, the collar of a dress shirt peeking up around his neck all askew. With a thermos tucked under his arm and his beanie pulled snuggly over a nest of golden curls, he gives you the impression of someone nursing a terrible hangover on his way to class himself.

Digger blinks, remembering where he is, it seems. Tucking the phone back into an inner pocket of his coat, he nods to you. “Yeah?”

“Am I on the right floor for Andru Hall?”

You refrain from mentioning Rick’s name. Still, the man appears to leer at you knowingly, his eyes flitting up and down your dress and peacoat.

“Ancient Greek, ay?” He smirks. Digger tosses his head in the direction behind you. “Flag’s on the right. If you really wanna get into Greece y’should come take my course. Hellenistic art ‘n sculpture next semester. 3020.”

Your mouth falls open a little. “You’re a professor?”

“Don’t sound so shocked, love.” He grins, already walking away. “3020! Take it!”

You dart your eyes around, hoping nobody else notices your exchange. As much as you’re delighted in surprising Rick today, you certainly didn’t want to get him in trouble. You shake your head before you overthink the strange man’s pointed look at you and turn in the direction of Rick’s lecture hall.

You wait until the last student exits the large hall before slipping your way inside. The carpeted floor creaks from old age and use, the sound swallowed up by the rows and rows of cushioned chairs separated by small writing desks. Your impressed whistle teases Rick’s attention up from the lectern. He blinks over at you from his notes, clearly surprised.

You smile at the professor coyly as you approach him, veering off to take a step onto the stairs leading up to the higher seats.

“Sheesh. How many seats does this place hold?” You wonder aloud.

Rick removes his reading glasses with an amused smile. “Around two hundred. But it drops to about a hundred and fifty by the time midterms roll around.”

“Oh?” You lace your fingers behind your back as you imagine Rick speaking to such a big room. “Scare them off?”

The man snorts softly. “Bore ‘em half to death’s more like it.”

“Well, Professor Flag… I’m quite interested in historical linguistics and I was wondering if I could audit your lecture today. I’ve got a lot to learn about romance languages. What do you think?”

Rick’s eyes flit over the dark green of your a-line dress and black stockings, his face never giving away even a glint of the dark look he so desires to shoot you with. He shuffles his papers around in a neat pile and nods up to the back of the hall.

“Better keep that coat on.” He warns. The playfully stern tone that floats over to you is nothing like the real one. That deep, sultry voice that sets your skin aflame and your knees weak. Here, your little exchange has your smile threatening to split into a grin. Rick arches his brows and glances at you from over the top of his glasses, also amused. “I don’t want any distractions from you, Darlin’.”

You shrug innocently, turning back up the steps as the first early students begin to roll in.

The lecture itself is quite compelling. Perhaps it’s your investment in the speaker, but Rick’s interest in his own subject is clear from your point of view. You’d already spent a few weeks getting to see him like this in the evenings- the way he murmurs to himself- making note of things to add of later in his lecture slides as you lounge beside him in bed. How you’ve slipped some notes off his lap and flipped through them, committing his hurried scrawl in the margins to memory.

Halfway through his presentation Rick releases the class for a short break. You stay in your seat like most of the students do, though a few of them venture out to snack or use the restroom.

You take the opportunity to slip your arms from your coat and push the fabric back onto your seat. It doesn’t take long for Rick’s eyes to do a sweep of his hall and clock you minutely as he does so. You cross your legs beneath the tiny slate of wood that makes up your ‘desk’, and you know if you time it right, Rick can see the clip of your garter fastened to your stocking.

The professor’s double take is nearly imperceivable. But you chuckle mutely into your palm as he clears his throat from across the room. Shifting around, you seat yourself more modestly as everyone begins returning to their seats. It was far from your normal attire at the coffee shop, but you considered visiting Rick at his job for the first time a special occasion. It was only fair- how many mornings had Rick shed his coat and jacket in your shop, distracting you from your tasks with his broad, sculpted form and impeccable clothes?

You’re pulled from your musings when the young man in the row in front of you turns around. You pretend to scroll on your phone as he and the girl beside you chat about the class. Your ears perk up when the coursework talk eventually falls on Rick himself.

“I’m pretty sure I saw him out on the lake this weekend.” You stiffen.

“Our lake?”

The girl beside you and the girl beside her both lean in.

Their friend shakes his head. “No, it’s about an hour away. I swear to god, he was on the water with some woman.”

You’d never been sailing prior to Rick Flag. You frequented the lake nearer to the campus, as the girls assumed, often taking walks with your dog or reading on the shore. But Rick had proposed a spot with a little bit more privacy… —apparently not too much more privacy.

“Did you recognize her? Was she a teacher?” The girl asks.

You relax internally when the man shakes his head.

“Nah, they got too far away. I was busy looking at Professor Flag. Guy’s fucking shredded.”

A low chorus of giggles. You bite back a smile.

“And you won’t fucking believe this— Flag? Hot Mr. Rogers? Tattoos all up and down his arms. Sleeves.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re lying.”

“Professor Sweater Vest?”

“Professor Daddy. I told you.” One of the girls nudges the other playfully with an elbow. “He’s sexy.”

You press your lips into your palm, smothering a giggle of your own as the three continue to gossip.

You couldn’t blame them. Rick never ceased to surprise you with every day you spent together. But the tattoos were one of the biggest surprises yet. It was only recently that the two of you could lay bare together— the first time you had pulled his sleeves down his tanned, muscular arms, you had whimpered, your breath shuddering at the sight.

Rick caught your stare with a sly smirk. He braced both elbows on the bed on either side of you, his mouth connecting with your neck to elicit more of your broken little sounds. Goosebumps flared across his skin as you mouthed at his inner bicep in return- tongue laving along the dark, inky lines stretching over every muscle.

You blink when the idle projector comes back to life. Rick returns to the lecture as you shift in your seat faintly, suddenly too hot for even your cardigan. You carefully unbutton the piece of clothing and fold it over the back of your chair with your coat.

Rick is in the middle of talking about the birth of all modern European alphabets when he notices you lean forward from the back of the room. You smile at him softly as he clears his throat. His hazel eyes flit away before they linger too long on the curve of your neck and the pendant you pinch between your fingers absently as you listen on.

Rick spins you around the moment you lock his office door. Your back presses to the wood as he cages your body in, tilting your chin up in his hand.

“Told you to leave that jacket on.” He warns against your lips. You nudge forward to close the gap between your mouths. Rick applies pressure to your throat gently to keep you in place. You simper, but smile wickedly up at him.

“I was getting warm.” You whisper. You press your thighs together like you did back in the lecture hall, your core already hot with want. Rick’s knee pushes between your legs. You curl your fingers around his lapels.

Rick’s lips drag down your jaw teasingly until they find your throat- feel your pulse hammer against your skin as he keeps you pinned.

“The way you expound on diachronic and synchronic syntax…” You bat your eyelashes.

Rick snorts against your neck. With a single heave, he scoops you up by the back of the thighs, drawing your legs around his waist. Rick walks you both over to his desk and falls into the leather chair, all while finally capturing your needy gasp with his lips.

You moan as his tongue slips inside your mouth, swallowing at it greedily. You admired the way he could stand there for three hours- shaping young minds- but you’ve had enough talk. This hour, you’d have the professor all to yourself.

You soon slip off his lap and run your hand down his front as you get on your knees between his. Rick’s head falls back against the chair, his fingers working his belt undone for you so you can spring his growing arousal free from his pressed slacks. The hot, velvety weight in your palm makes your mouth water.

Your eyes fall shut as you wrap your lips around the head of Rick’s cock. His taste is familiar on your tongue. Your cheeks hollow with a quiet hum when you feel those strong fingers slip into your hair and give you an encouraging tug. It’s a sharp, pleasurable feeling- one that travels down your spine and uncoils in your lower belly as you start to bob your head with enthusiasm.

Rick’s own pleasure is controlled today. You know you’re on the right track when his muted but resounding moan stays behind his clenched jaw. The sound makes your pussy clench with want.

You gasp as you pull your mouth off his length, sucking some air back into your burning lungs, and Rick tenderly brushes your hair back behind your ear. You smile, your grip replacing the wet warmth of your mouth to keep stroking his hard cock steadily.

“There’s a good girl.” He growls, voice thick. Despite the mild way he flicks his eyes down over you, there’s no mistaking the glint behind his black blown pupils.

You lean back down, your lips already parted and tongue pushed out to seek that taste you crave once more when a sudden, urgent knocking fills up the room. You startle there on your knees, eyes flying open. Normally, you’d marvel at the way he so calmly calls back to the stranger on the other side of the heavy door- but after hearing those rumors, you’re on edge now. Would this day turn out to be a terrible idea?

Your worry worsens when the voice in the hall doesn’t relent. Suddenly, their persistent, harried accent jostles your memory.

“I’m a little busy, Harkness.” Rick shoots back, a bit less patient now. He flashes an apologetic look down at you, his hand on your arm in a soothing manner.

“Fuck you you’re busy! I’m comin’ in!”

Panic cuts through you when Rick swears loudly, and you find yourself scooting beneath the large desk beside you, until Rick’s spread legs bracket you again, enclosing you in the small space.

Digger Harkness’s anxious steps across the carpet as you try your best to stay utterly still. He seems to start mid-conversation, picking up wherever he and Rick had last left off.

“Knew I shouldn’t have texted first. You said I had nothin’ to lose, Flag!”

“Where in the hell did you get that key, Harkness?” Rick interrupts irritably.

“Ah, right, Harls told me to give it back to you, mate.” You hear the light tinkle of a key being tossed onto the surface just above your head. “Fucker’s been sending me straight to voicemail all weekend, then I see ‘em in the quad just now and he just turns the hell around! What the fuck!”

“Listen- Harkness-”

After a few minutes, the tension in your limbs relaxes a bit- mostly to avoid the ache of crouching so uncomfortably as the art professor prattles on. Eventually, you dare to rest your cheek on Rick’s inner thigh as you wait in silence. And to his credit, Rick remains perfectly civil as he talks the man down from what seems to be a recurring episode.

You try to follow the conversation. Something about yet another staff member- A statistics professor? And a drunken night that seemed to go well enough. It certainly wasn’t your place, but it seemed to you that whoever this skittish Richard Hertz was, he had a bit of a ghosting streak. Your chest heaves with a silent sigh. You’re sympathetic- you really are- but you have other things on your mind.

You blink when Rick finally shifts in his chair minutely. Your breath must have stirred a reaction, because you witness Rick’s flagging erection twitch as he trails off mid sentence. The corner of your mouth ticks up and you repeat the soft action.

Rick’s knee jerks against the side of the desk with a notable bang. You freeze. Still, Harkness is unperturbed.

Carefully, you slide a hand up Rick’s slack-covered thigh until you’re inching near the man’s cock again.

“Look- George- You’re better off ventin’ to Quinn on this one. I don’t know how much help I can be-” You grin, boldly wrapping your grasp around the base of his length. “I don’t even know the guy!” He bursts.

“Well thanks a lot, then, Flag! Christ. Department brothers, ay?”

You have no trouble working him to his full, thick self again as you toss propriety out the window and pump your grip up and down his long length. The tip of your tongue darts out, laving at the sensitive area on the underside of his swollen head.

Rick stutters uncharacteristically, “I… Y’know I’m a TA short this semester. These midterms are just-”

Harkness waves him off before he has to finish grinding out a labored excuse. “Yeah alright. Talk to ya at drinks Thursday night.”

“Lock it on your way out, Harkness.” Rick calls after his receding footsteps. The two of you wait a beat that feels like eternity.

A thrill runs through you when Rick doesn’t wheel away immediately after the room is plunged back into silence. You let out a soft, muffled yelp when his hand slip its way under the desk and wraps a portion of your hair around his knuckles deftly, the other hand pressing down the back of your head. Rick’s cock slides past your lips until your nose presses to the thatch of curls at the base. Tears prickle your eyes with a broken moan.

“Need my cock that much, huh, baby girl?”

You whimper again- an emphatic yes. Rick cants his hips, thrusting into your mouth with a deep groan. He fucks your face just like this, rough and quick, all while you stay wedged there between his muscular legs.

“Well go on now, you’re so eager. I know that needy little pussy’s aching for it.” He mocks. “Let’s see you come while you’re suckin’ me off so nice and pretty.”

You push your free hand down into the waistband of your lacy panties, whimpering again when your fingers make slick contact with your clit. And he’s right- of course he’s right- the ache between your legs sends you into a mess of high-pitched little sounds as Rick continues using your spit-covered mouth.

Your eyes roll up into your head when you come quickly, your hips jerking against your palm as you cry out. Rick muffles the debauched noise with an even rougher thrust of his cock, burying himself deep in the back of your throat as the sight of your blissful face sends him right over the edge- his cool demeanor from earlier coming apart at the seams with it.

Rick coaxes you of his softening length a short moment later and you take in a lungful of air gratefully. A careful thumb swipes at your shining bottom lip, collecting up the mess you’ve made of yourself with gentle care.

“Y’liked that, did you?” He muses, smirking down at you. Your cheek brushes his thigh as you rest your head on him once more. “I’ll have to thank Harkness somehow, then.”

“I can’t believe that man’s an instructor here. He seems so…”

“Manic?”

“Out of place.” You correct kindly.

“You’d be surprised.” Rick finally wheels his chair back, helping you up out of the small alcove. You slip onto his lap with ease as he places a hand over your tender knees, rubbing them fondly. “There’s plenty of crazy characters on this campus. And most of them always wind up buggin’ me.”

#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #rick flag #professor au #rick flag smut #Joel kinnaman #dceu #mywords*

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Ecstasy [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts with a flashback in the forest

Bear: Haah...Haah...

( Once I’ve safely escaped...I’m heading straight to the hideout. I’m worried about the lil’ ones. )

( Besides, some of the other guys who got lucky and survived might have returned there as well. )

( I’m sure Ruki-kun and the others will tag along once I explain the situation to them. )

( ...Even if there’s nothing left, that’ fine too...When that happensーー )

*BANG*

Bear: ...Ah?

Orphanage employee: There they are! There’s four of them in total!! Seize them!

ー The screen fades to black

Bear: ( ...Why...? My legs are...giving in... )

*THUD*

ー The scene shifts to the orphanage

Bear: ( ...My body hurts...The fuck is going on...? I can’t move. I can’t...hear very well either... )

( ...The smell of blood...Is it coming from me...? )

( Aah...Honestly, I don’t even know if it hurts or not at this point... )

...I’m sorry...Boss...

ー A flashback ensues to Boss’ death

Bear: ーー Boss! Oi, you’ve gotta be kidding me!? Hang in there!

Lucks: ...Bear...Run...

Bear: Fuck off! What kind of henchman would I be if I just left my Boss for dead!?

Oi, I’m begging you...! Stand! Let’s run away together...!!

Lucks: Please, just go! You dumbass...! The soldiers...Will be back soーー ...Ugh...!

Bear: Boss!!

Lucks: ...Look up, Bear...

Aah...Damnit...I’m about to die over here...Yet the sky is so frustratingly...blue...

Say...I told you, didn’t I...? That under this sky, everyone’s...equal...

ー The flashback ends

Bear: ( ...If I had known I would die in this hellhole...I would have much rather perished back then... )

( If I have to die...I’d at least want to go underneath the same sky as Boss did...Fuck... )

( ...I don’t want to die here...I still haven’t...accomplished anything... )

( ... )

???: ーー Poor child.

Bear: ( ...Who’s there? )

???: ...Would you perhaps care for eternal life?

Bear: ( ...I don’t care who you are. If I die here, things will end before I get to do anything... )

( I’m gonna...fulfill Boss’ wish...right...!? )

...I do...

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Karlheinz’ room

Karlheinz: Ruki, Kou, Yuma, Azusa. Come here.

Yuma: ...

Ruki: Oi, Yuma.

Yuma: Ah? ...Oh, you’re talking to me?

Karlheinz: Are you still having trouble adjusting to your new name?

Yuma: My bad...

Karlheinz: Just take your time. You still have plenty of time ahead of you after all.

Well then, come here. Let us enjoy a cup of tea.

*Cling*

Yuma: ...

Karlheinz: Is something the matter, Yuma?

Yuma: What’s this? ...No, what could this be? (1)

Karlheinz: Hm? Aah, this is sugar. You’ve never seen it before?

Yuma: Sugar? ...It has a weird shape.

Karlheinz: They’re shaped like flowers. These are called roses. Show me your hand, Yuma. You should try one.

Yuma: ...Thank you very much. Nn...

Karlheinz: What do you think?

Yuma: ....Hella delicious!! I’ve never had somethin’ this good!

Ruki: Yuma! Watch your language!

Karlheinz: Ruki, I don’t mind. Do you want another one, Yuma?

Yuma: Hell yeah!! ...I mean yes. (2)

Karlheinz: Then how about this? If you make me happy, I shall give you sugar as a reward.

Yuma: Make you happy...What should I do then?

Karlheinz: As a Vampire, I want you to become a formidable individual. (3) You will have to try your very hardest for that.

For you children to become Adam. That would make me happier than anything.

Yuma: Try my best to become Adam...?

Karlheinz: Is that a little difficult still? Then for starters, I shall give you some if you study hard tomorrow.

Yuma: ...Yes!

Kou: You’re so easy, Yuma-kun~

Yuma: Shut it!

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to Yuma’s room

Yuma: ...

( ...I owe him my life. I have to return the favor. )

( ...But... )

ー Yui enters the room

Yui: Yuma-kun, the tea is ready.

...Huh? You’re eating sugar again? But I brought you some cake as well.

Yuma: Don’t worry. There’s always room for sugar. (4)

Yui: You’re talking like a girl...

*Cling*

Yuma: You’ll get what I mean if ya have a taste as well. It’s addicting, ya know?

Yui: If I start eating sugar cubes whole, I’ll gain weight in no time.

Actually, how come you never pack on the pounds? It’s no fair...

Yuma: Who knows? Maybe ‘cause I’m a Vampire? Maybe you’ll understand if ya become one as well? Wanna put it to the test?

Yui: It’s a little tempting, so please don’t tempt me...

Yuma: Hah, you’re so easy. Well, not that I can judge ya.

Come on, open yer mouth.

Yui: You’ll give me some?

Yuma: Today’s an exception. I’ll make ya my partner in crime.

Yui: Partner in crime? Nom...

Yuma: It melted a lil’. Lick my finger while you’re at it.

Yui: ...Nn...

Yuma: Good, right?

Yui: Nn, it’s good but...Very sweet.

Yuma: It’s sugar after all.

Yui: I’ve been wondering about this for a while but, how come you like sugar this much?

You don’t really eat that many other desserts, do you?

Yuma: ...

'Cause sugar tastes of sin.

Yui: Taste of sin?

Yuma: I remember every time I eat it. ...The crime I’m ‘bout to commit.

Yui: ...I don’t quite get it.

Yuma: In short, you’re my partner in crime since ya had some alongside me.

ー Yuma moves closer

Yuma: ...Don’t try and get away, Yui.

Yui: Eh...?

*Rustle*

*Thud*

Yuma: You’re the one who told me not to give up. If there’s even a sliver of hope left for me to become Adam, I will keep fightin’ for it.

I’ll take yer everythin’...Makin’ it so ya can’t think ‘bout anyone but me.

Yui: ...

Yuma: Don’t tremble...I’m not tryin’ to spook ya or anythin’.

I won’t be gentle with ya, but I’ll at least listen to yer wishes, ‘kay? ...What do ya want me to do?

Yui: ...I guess ‘nothing’ isn’t an option...?

Yuma: Unfortunately for you, it isn’t. Besides...Right now, yer smell is tellin’ me ya don’t really dislike this, ya know?

Yui: M-My scent...?

Yuma: Yer expression too...If anything, ya seem to be waitin’ for it?

Yui: That’s not...

Yuma: Really?

*Rustle*

Yui: Nn...!

Yuma: See? I can smell it. This scent...of you waitin’ for me...

Yui: Nn...Phew...

Yuma: ...Haah...

*Creaaak*

Yuma: ...I won’t betray him.

However...I won’t hand you over either...Not to anyone...!

Yui: ( Yuma-kun’s lips taste sweet...Like sugar... )

Yuma: ...Sugar really tastes of sin. It keeps on temptin’ me.

Don’t ya feel the same? Right, Yui...?

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Yuma fixes his own speech when talking to Karlheinz, using the casual なんだ or ‘nanda’ first, before changing it to the much more polite なんですか or ‘nan desu ka?’

(2) Once again, he initially just says 食べたい or ‘tabetai’ which is casual, but then quickly adds the ‘desu’. Since these are linguistic features typical of the Japanese language, it is very difficult to translate them to English. ^^;;

(3) 一人前 or ‘ichininmae’ is one of those concepts which is very much linked to Japanese culture. It is often referred to people who have found a stable job and are contributing to society, fulfilling their role in life.

(4) This is a pun on the Japanese idiom 甘いものは別腹 or ‘amai mono wa betsubara’, which literally means ‘sweets go into a different stomach’.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

[ ENDING 1 ] [ ENDING 2 ] [ ENDING 3 ]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumaectasyepilog

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pumpkinpaix · 5 years ago

Audio

anonymous:

I just discovered your mdzs pronunciation stuff and it's super helpful!!! Especially to an english speaker, it's so helpful to hear everything pronounced slowly! Would you ever consider doing more but on Chinese basics? Like tones, or differences between similar sounds? (But please don't feel obligated! Just a suggestion bc I find your pronunciation super helpful :)

hhhhh the file was too big for tumblr :’) even after I exported it at medium instead of standard quality, so i made a soundcloud after all aha.... it’s downloadable, even!

anyways! chinese school with cyan? :D transcript with helpful links under the cut.

previous chinese pronunciation posts with pinyin if you want to go back review them armed with new knowledge to practice: mdzs names 1, mdzs names 2

rough transcript (brackets indicate things i didn’t say but wanted to add as a note, or laughs lol):

hello everyone! okay, so I’m going to make an attempt to do some basic pinyin, I guess, a basic pinyin post? so the goal is by the end you should be able to hopefully! look at basic pinyin or any pinyin word and get a general sense of how it might sound. this is not comprehensive, and you shouldn’t take it as such, but i hope you might be able to get a good foundation out of it? I don’t know, just for sort of, a basic general overview.

I’ll use some MDZS words or names or whatever to I guess keep it fun as examples? But the rules should be generally applicable across the board. This is geared towards native English speakers because that’s what I am. I am not a linguist, just a layperson, so I’m going to be explaining like a layperson.

So, this is pinyin with cyan! chinese school with cyan. horrible, I thought i escaped this [laugh] oh, all those horrible saturdays. [all sounds will be read with first tone unless otherwise indicated]

okay, so, I’m going to do the basic vowels first. there are five so it’s: a o e i u ü

so I’ll do that a — oh wait, no there’s six, oh gosh! okay. bad start! so there are SIX basic vowels: a o e i u ü

so i’ll do that one more time: a o e i u ü

so there’s actually a seventh vowel sound, but we can get to that in a minute. it’s not included in the orthography.

so ü is usually the hardest for native english speakers since it doesn’t exist in english, but a friend of mine recently explained it really well. so if you say “ee” just like, “ee” like in creek or something like that, then shape your lips as if you’re saying “oo”. so if you speak french or german, it might be easier for you, those are just the two languages I’m familiar with. the ü is the same as the ü in german, like in die Tür, in french it’s just like you know, la lune, mur, etc.

basically say “ee” then move your lips until it looks like you’re saying “oo” — eeeeeüüüü or you can do the opposite, you can say “oo” then move your tongue as if it’s saying “ee” so: ooooüüüüüü. ü. and that’s basically it.

so now i’m going to do the initial consonants. that’s all the vowels. but the initial consonants, the consonants, or the consonant sounds that can start words, there are… well there’s not that many, but I’ll go through them really quick. there is an order, and every consonant is associated, every initial consonant is associated with a natural vowel sound and they come in groups. the order that i learned them in is this:

b p m f • d t n l g k h • j q x • z c s zh ch sh r

[repeated slower]

b(o) p(o) m(o) f(o) • d(e) t(e) n(e) l(e) g(e) k(e) h(e) • j(i) q(i) x(i) • z(i) c(i) s(i) zh(i) ch(i) sh(i) r(i)

I think the official one [the official order, i mean] might have the z c s and the zh ch sh r switched, but it doesn’t really matter they’re both in the same group. so you’ll notice that there are only four naturally associated vowels: o e i and ï [not sure if this is technically the right way to write it, but it’s convenient for illustrative purposes here].

so ï is the one that’s with the z c s, zh ch sh r group. I also think this is a pretty hard vowel to pronounce for english speakers, but i don’t really have a handy way of explaining it. i’ll try though!

so for things like the z c s sounds: say “sss” like you would in english. “ssss” then change your lips to the way you say “ee” and then vocalize without moving your tongue. so you can also produce this sound without changing your lip shape, but doing so will kind of force it, or make it easier to find I think. so ssssssi. sssssi. so that was me doing the whole process with saying ssss and then moving my lips and then vocalizing. but i can also do it with my lips rounded. “si”. that’s me with lips rounded, but having the lips wide like that helps i think

[or you can just vocalize “zzzzz” like in “buzz” or “jazz”. that zzzzzz sound gives you the vowel you want. that probably would’ve been an easier way to explain it haha.]

for the zh ch sh r sounds, to get that, you can say “juh” like how you would say j, a j sound in english, so it’s “juh” but dont’ say the “uh” just stick to the “j”. so that’s the zh sound. “zhii” just like hold it. then ch sh r. I don’t know, I think that’s pretty intuitive once you get those.

in terms of the consonants that i think that are difficult, they are d, j q x and z maybe? so i’ll go over them.

so d taps the palate in english, “duh”, “duh”. the d sound, it taps further back on the little bump [on the roof of your mouth] there, but it taps on the teeth in chinese. I think it’s a non-aspirated t sound? so say “tuh” but then instead of having that breath, just take that out. “de”. it’s a non-aspirated t, it taps in the same spot. so that’s the d, the “de” sound.

j q x, it’s the same sort of things, if you stretch your lips, I think i helps to move it into the right space. so instead of “juh” it’s “ji”. “ji”. “ji ji ji ji”. “qi”, “xi”. the q has the “ch” sound, but instead of sitting so far in the front, it sits a little further back [in the mouth]. instead of “ch” which is the ch, it’s “qi”, which is moving further back. and same with “xi”. instead of “sh” it’s “x”. i don’t know if that helps [laugh]. but instead of “sh” it’s “x”. so “xi”.

again, instead of “ch” it’s “q” and instead of “sh” it’s “x” [laugh]

[I forgot to talk about z oops. it’s basically a combination of d and z in english: “dz”. like the end of “hands”. that “dz” sound.]

okay, so, you can start a word with any of the vowels, any of them can be initials, but some of them will change orthography when they’re at the start of a word. so i think it’s pretty intuitive, but a o e all stay the same. but the “i” sound, the i, turns into a y, the “u”, the u, turns into a w, and the “ü”, the ü turns into yu. so “yu”.

okay, so that’s all the initials! that’s it! that’s not too bad.

okay, so now I’m going to start doing the finals, like the ends of words. you can end any word with any of the vowels, but I’m going to include them anyways because it’s in the table. i just copied this table from wikipedia because it’s i think pretty intuitive and clearly stated. they show both how the sound would be written as a full word and how it would be spelled when it was attached to an initial. so basically what i just talked about regarding changing orthography when you start a word with vowels, things like that.

[link to table in wikipedia]

okay starting with the first row, I’m pretty sure this is ï. the i sound that i said was difficult:

[row 1]

so I’m going to do that again. I’m going to do each one twice and then we’re going to move onto the second row.

[row 1 repeated, each sound twice]

okay, now the second row:

[row 2]

so we’re going to do the same thing again, twice each:

[row 2 repeated, each sound twice]

okay, and the third row:

[row 3]

and again, twice each:

[row 3 repeated, each sound twice]

and then the final row:

[row 4]

and then one more time, twice each:

[row 4 repeated, each sound twice]

okay so that’s it, that’s all the finals I think.

so I think -(i)un/yun is probably one of the harder sounds, the -un with the y at the beginning, the -iun? “yun”, with the umlaut. I don’t really know how to explain how to pronounce that one, but you know it’s the… yun [laugh]

okay so a note on u vs ü. when a word begins with j q x or y, and it’s followed by a u, it’s automatically be pronounced as ü even though it will not be marked. so here are some examples.

names like Ā’Yuàn: yuàn. it’s a ü sound automatically, and it’s not marked in the orthography. or Yú Zǐyuān. yú zǐ yuān. same thing. and then with something like in hánguāng-jūn, jūn, the j the “ji” combined with the -un becomes “jun” like the “yun” sound. or Jīn Zixuān. Xuān. Xuān. it’s the ü sound.

so an example of the same final spellings but with different initials. like the yuàn in ā’yuàn — you can see it automatically changes to an ü pronunciation, but spelled the same way the -uan ending, but you have a different starting consonant that’s not one of the exceptions, so “le” — so in luànzàng gǎng. luàn. it’s “u”. luàn. and then for like yú, yú zǐyuān, yú, instead of the ü, in jīn rúlán, rú, rú, it’s the “u” sound, and they’re marked the same way.

okay! yeah that’s pretty much it. that’s like all the basic sounds in chinese, I’m pretty sure. [laugh] it’s not actually that hard. i mean, it’s obviously hard, but there’s not as many sounds as you expect, or it’s less complex than you might think.

so obviously now we have to deal with tones. i know this is the one that everybody finds really scary, but i actually i know it’s easy for me to say because i’m a native speaker, but i actually think they’re very intuitive and easy to hear, as tones go. it’s gonna be fine. anyways, we’re gonna get through it.

here is how i remember tones: I do it with a cadence. and i literally sometimes have to go through this cadence on words when i’m not sure how to identify what tone they are. this is how i learned it, my grandmother taught me this, you know, i mean, it’s very standard, but:

ā á ǎ à

or hummed it’s: ¯ ´ ˇ `

and then I’ll do it again:

ā á ǎ à

¯ ´ ˇ `

so yeah, i really do sing it sometimes when i’m trying to figure out or remember what tone mark goes on something, I go dūh dúh dǔh dùh [laugh] over and over again until i figure it out.

and yeah, that’s it! they’re pretty intuitive, they follow the path of the tone, or the shape of the tone markers. so you can see the ā is flat, the á goes up, the ǎ goes down and then up, ǎ, and then à, the fourth one, just goes down.

so whenever you’re writing a tone mark on a word, they always go on the last vowel UNLESS there’s an a or e present. those always take precedence. I’ll spell out a couple of examples in the text.

[EXAMPLES: hào not haò and méi not meí, but jiù]

[laugh]

so i will go over, um… okay, i think my dad’s having a meeting downstairs, so maybe you’ll hear him in the background, but okay, the last thing i will go over a couple of sandhi rules, just a few! this isn’t all of them, i think there might be five? but i’m just going to do the three that are most relevant or the most commonly seen I think, or the ones that I think about that will trip you up most likely, i think, when you’re pronouncing things.

so the one that everybody knows, or the one that everybody teaches first, i think is the two third tones in a row will cause the first third tone to turn into a second tone. so for example, in Yílíng Lǎozǔ. “Láozǔ”. the two characters by themselves are lǎo and zǔ, but because they’re right next to each other, it becomes láo, second tone, “láozǔ”. [NOTE: the pinyin will still be spelled as lǎozǔ. you will just automatically read it aloud as láozǔ] so instead of “lǎo zǔ”, it’s “láozǔ”.

and then, the second thing that a third tone does is that a third tone that is followed by anything that is not a third tone drops to a thing that is called a low tone, I know i said there are only four, but this is… here’s an example. [there is also the soft tone, which is kind of the absence of tone, but I’m not going to talk about it here haha] in liǎnfāng-zūn, jin guangyao’s title.

liǎnfāng-zūn, you can kinda hear it doesn’t really rise again at the liǎn, liǎn, liǎn, by itself it goes down up, like a valley, but when it’s followed by the rest of the title, liǎnfāng-zūn, it just kinda sits at the bottom and then jumps back up. liǎnfāng-zūn, liǎnfāng-zūn, it just kind of sits at the bottom as opposed to coming back up, so it’s still. it still follows the same curve, it just doesn’t quite come back up i think

i actually had to look that one up, because I was like. oh is that real? i hadn’t noticed it.

but the third tone on its own is just the third tone, so for example, in xuē yáng’s courtesy name, xuē chéngměi, měi, you can hear it there, it comes back up—oh birds!

so xuē chéngměi, měi. dǔh. [laugh]

[LOL I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THE THIRD SANDHI RULE I WAS GONNA TALK ABOUT. you can read about it in the link to sandhi rules i’m going to post at the end of the post.]

so yeah, that’s pretty much it actually! hooray! I’m sure, I mean, chinese is a whole language, so it’s complicated, this won’t really get you to a point where you can read pinyin entirely, but i think those are like the basic rules that i use when i’m reading pinyin, but of course, i’ve been reading pinyin for a really long time, that was the primary way i engaged with chinese text for many many years because i was illiterate! i’m still pretty illiterate, but that’s okay. i’m getting better! but yeah, so like i said, this isn’t comprehensive. if it was horribly confusing, if there was stuff in it that just didn’t make any sense, you can ask me questions! I will try to answer them. my brother’s coming home today, and i’ve been using his desk to record because his room has been empty, so i’ll have to figure out something else. but for now, um, yeah!

okay, bye. :)

/end transcript

okay!! so here are the promised links:

tone sandhi rules

very useful interactive table where you can click on sounds to hear them read aloud! (linked to me by @nerd-bastard thank you so much!)

obviously the wikipedia page is very good, though it’s a little dense

@tonyglowheart sent me a thread of someone reading out mxtx names on twitter here! the reader has a different accent than i do (they say they sound like they’re from the northern mainland. i would guess my accent is probably closer to something near shanghai? since I learned pronunciation from my grandmother, and then of course tempered by my american upbringing)

I would probably recommend going back to the other pronunciation posts I made to see a variation of sounds written out with different tones? i feel like that would be helpful!

anyways WOO thanks for your patience, it’s been a minute. brain’s doing kinda oomf these days, but we’re gonna make it :’) state of the world is. something.

normally i would just link my ko-fi here, but this time, i’m going to say check out my donations tag or do your own research into someplace more in need to put your money instead. :)

#chinese #learning chinese #mdzs #pinyin #chinese pronunciation #cyan chinese school #lmfao #new tag i guess #mine #my voice #i have NO idea how useful this is but at this point #*yeets into the void*#long post #cyan help desk #cyan vs heritage #statistically average

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sserpente · 4 years ago

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Pastel Blue (Chapter 4)

Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures–but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on the TVA’s radar. Working for them, albeit reluctantly, he keeps finding himself in the company of a young woman, Jess, who works in the linguistics department and who has a truly strange effect on him. Smitten by her confidence and smugness, he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey and lets her wreak havoc in his heart without really knowing why. But he is determined to find out. He means to escape his new prison anyway.

Find all chapters in my masterlist!

Loki got called in again after lunch. By the time Jess returned from sitting next to Fred in the cafeteria poking at her food as if those noodles were earthworms, he was gone. She had been careless to leave him alone like that. For all she knew, he could have found a way to get rid of his handcuffs and make trouble.

Nothing of the like happened, no alarms were raised and no fuming Mobius came at her for being this reckless. Instead, she decided not to while away in the lab any longer and packed her things to continue her work in her unit, feeling like an empty shell.

What if he was right? The question hovered in the air like moist fog in a forest, creeping into her mind and clouding her concentration. Was that what he wanted, to get to her and distract her? Distract her from what, exactly? M had warned her that Loki was skilled at playing mind games and deceiving his enemies and despite you insisting he was part of the team now and that he would not get left behind, it appeared he still perceived them all as such.

It wasn’t like anyone had made any real effort to become his friend so far… so what else was he to believe? Jess bit her lower lip, and eventually gave up on the transcript she was working on. Her mind kept wandering off, even when she switched on her TV to re-watch some of her favourite Doctor Who episodes and struggled to make sense of the lines as her mind was still filled with Old French terms, repeatedly sucking in deep breaths until she realised the foreign and yet so familiar scent surrounding her was Loki’s. She was sitting on his provisory bed, after all.

The bed sheets smelled like a wintery forest, like ice and strangely, even leather and molten metal—but perhaps the latter was just his natural male scent intended to lure in females. Either way… Jess felt too exhausted to resist how it enveloped her whole and eventually fell asleep on the sofa before Loki returned to her unit.

~*~

He found her sleeping soundly on his “bed” after Dave practically shoved him into the room, locking the door behind him with an ear-piercing click, but he sensed her presence before he even lay his eyes on her. It came knocking him over like the strong winds in Jötunheim, making him swallow as he stepped closer.

Loki wondered just how fast he could snap her delicate neck. How he could overpower and threaten to kill her before the oafs watching him over the surveillance cameras even registered what was unfolding before their eyes, taking her hostage. But he did no such thing and it left him pondering if Mobius had somewhat suspected he would not harm a hair on her head.

He knew a lot about him, Mobius. More than he would have liked, but if watching him in various timelines proved anything at all, it was that Loki was not malicious for the sake of malice. Ever since his arrival, Jess had not once raised his voice against him—he had no reason to plot vengeance against her. Only to plan it with her. Fuck off, she had barked. He smirked.

She seemed kind, after all, understanding—well, she was cheeky and smug too but there was more beneath the surface. Loki refrained from flinching when she stirred, turning over on the sofa to reveal her face. Eyes closed, features relaxed, lips slightly parted. As soon as her eyes flew open, Loki felt an adrenaline rush resembling the thrill of being reunited with a long-lost possession.

Jess blinked. “Hey… how long have you been here?”

“About a minute. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the door close.”

She shrugged. “I have a deep sleep.” Truly. She could sleep through a war and feel rested the next day. Technically, that was another superpower of hers.

“I… um…” What? I’m sorry? For what? This was ridiculous. She had nothing to apologise for. Instead, she sat up straight and rushed to gather her things so Loki would get his bed back. Her own was calling for her anyway. “When did M send you?”

Loki swallowed. “The nineties again, to save a Minuteman from public execution in a Hydra cult.”

“And did you?”

He smirked, sending a lightning bolt right between her legs. Damn him. “Yes. Even though I do assume that he was never in any real danger.”

“How can you know? M has his reasons for what he does. I’m sure he had one for allowing you to interfere.”

Loki hummed, careful not to scratch on the surface of his true intentions towards her again—not anytime soon, anyway. “Did he now? You all think me the God of Lies, yet Mobius is so full of them he reeks of deception.” He paused, looking her straight in the eye. “Do you trust him?”

Did she? Her answer should have been an unconditional yes, a confirmation of her loyalty to the TVA but who was she kidding? No. She did not trust him. M had given her a home and he had given her a purpose beyond criminal intent, and technically she had put her life into his hands but she did not, in fact, trust him.

She didn’t trust anyone in the TVA, as a matter of fact—not even Fred and especially not Dave, even with his jubilee coming up. She trusted no one but herself. Her parents had taught her that, a long time ago. At least that’s how she remembered it.

“You should go to sleep. Fred had a point, I’m sure M won’t go easy on you once you’ve become used to all the timeline hopping.”

Loki frowned, fully aware of the fact she had not answered his question. He watched her stagger off into her room tired but elegantly, empty peanut shells still scattered on the coffee table like confetti. He would have made them disappear with but a flick of his wrist if it wasn’t for that absurd collar.

Loki wondered for just a brief moment if she would pleasure herself again tonight. Oh, yes. He had heard that and it had left him with a bulge in his trousers for the rest of the night. The barely audible buzzing of a sex toy Loki could only imagine had been buried deep inside her cunt, and Jess’ soft whimpers, albeit muffled due to the pillow she must have pressed her face into, had been all but delectable, and while he doubted that he was the reason for her night-time adventure, it had been a thrilling experience nonetheless. Loki merely possessed enough decency not to bring it up—not until he might need to blackmail her. At the very least, that was what he told himself. He refused to believe the premise of his silence was a growing collection of sexual fantasies, most of which involved Jess on her knees in front of him, moaning and whimpering like she had last night.

Loki cursed, brushing the peanuts aside and heeded her advice. He should rest. It would do him no good to stay up all night yet again and squeeze a few hours of sleep out in the early morning when exhaustion got the better of him. He shouldn’t be letting his guard down at all for as long as he was wearing that collar and could be taken by surprise. This morning posed as the perfect example of this miserable predicament. No one should be able to march past him and get ready for a long workday with him sleeping through it, and yet Jess had managed to do just that.

He hummed to himself, straightening the covers of his provisory bed before lying down with as much grace as he could muster and ridding himself of his clothing. He would be damned if he did not make use of whatever connection there might have been between them, even if he knew he was repeating himself at that point. Patience. Patience is a virtue. It still took him hours again for his mind to finally switch off and let him fall asleep.

~*~

Jess nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Loki standing right behind her, peeking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of what she was working on.

“How did you even find me? The lab is miles away.”

Loki smirked, sending her heart knocking against her ribcage like a steam hammer. “Not all of my powers are of magical origin, you see.” He would certainly not tell her he found her because he had sensed her. herher. sdHe sighed. “And to be quite frank, you are far more bearable than everyone else around here.”

Jess smiled smugly. “You know what, I’ll just take that as a compliment. I see you’re without handcuffs but I have work to do. So either help me translate or be quiet and let me focus, alright?”

He looked so damn good in that suit. The white button-up chemise and the black tie complimented his raven hair like it had been made for him, and not been borrowed from Dave who, as far as she was concerned, had been more than against the idea of the God of Mischief wearing his suits.

“No missions today?” She found herself asking, blinking rapidly to tear her gaze away from his chest.

“I guess we shall find out. Though I am surprised Mobius is not concerned some of Odin’s lapdogs will kick in the door sooner or later.” He had given it a proper thought before, of course. Loki was a fugitive, a criminal. Thor was probably looking for him, along with a herd of einherjar following after him like sheep. The very circumstance that he might just be safe here for the time being, until he had gotten his hands on the Tesseract and the collar off his neck, had indeed occurred to him already. Mobius had refused any information on the matter, Jess, on the other hand, was easier to manipulate.

“Only in one timeline,” Jess said. “The one you escaped from. You are in the Null-Time Zone now which means you are shielded from anyone travelling with the Filumorph.” It was a ridiculous term, really, didn’t quite roll off the tongue. She knew what it meant, at least. Filum was a Latin word for string. Time strings, in this case. But then again, it was just a tongue-twister she had come up with at Mobius’ birthday party a few years ago.

“The entire facility is hidden from prying eyes then, is it not?” Loki probed, his fingertips brushing over a stack of books Jess had brought to work today.

“Yes?”

“How far does this protection reach?”

“Across the nine realms and beyond, Loki. That’s like, the whole point. The multiverse, except for a few individuals, don’t know we exist, and unlike S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.W.O.R.D. we work in secret. We only observe and keep things in order.” She recited the words as if she had learned them by heart from a dull textbook.

“I figured this much.” He purred, snatching a book from the table and flicking through it with vague interest. Whatever stood behind this very protection, surely there were mechanics and science involved. All he had to do was find a way to use this protection for himself once the Tesseract created a portal for him to get out of here.

He hummed once more, following Jess’ every move as she attempted to get back to her work. This woman had access to any document in dire need of translation all across the TVA. He would be damned if she could not find out where the cube was—if she did not know already, that was.

She scribbled a translation on the page with a pencil reading ‘bad or evil’, then paused, chewed on the eraser-part and frowned. ‘Sick?’, she added with a question mark.

“You are not wrong,” he found himself saying, crossing his arms before his chest and leaning against her desk as his eyes skimmed over the transcript. “Evil would indeed refer to sick in this case as there are no other mentions of ill-willed entities. Here. Varð þeim ǫllum ilt af,” he cited, picking a random example a little further on in the dialogue. “It made them all sick.”

“I thought so. It must have something to do with the ‘fjölkyngi’ they keep speaking of.”

“Sorcery? What sorcery?”

Jess switched to Old Norse, reading out loud what the transcript had to offer. Loki’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest upon hearing her speak in his mother tongue, her pronunciation so on point and flawless his lips parted in utter surprise. “But they don’t mention it again,” she continued in English. “It’s like they’re afraid of talking about it.”

“Let me see.” Jess held back a smile, her pulse speeding up. Loki leaned over the desk, allowing her to take in his unique and beguiling scent—not to mention the way his sleeves were rolled up, his pale forearms on full display for her. The strength hiding in those muscles made her wiggle around on her chair like an impatient child. There went her concentration again, she thought, as she nibbled on her candy necklace.

~*~

“M? Do you have a moment?” It was about a week later when Jess made her way to Mobius’ office—it was more a control room, really—with a stack of documents tucked under her arm.

“Jess…” Mobius did not look up but she knew better than to assume he would not pay attention to her. He was exceptional at multi-tasking, Mobius. “What can I do for you?” His eyes were glued to six screens right in front of him, the one in the middle displaying who Jess immediately identified as Loki, and his new reluctant supervisors, Ariana and Homer. She placed the documents on his desk, right next to the silly Doctor Who coffee mug she had gotten him for his birthday once, her blue eyes darting over to the screens like magnets.

“I translated the remaining transcripts and protocols now.” And Loki helped me, she added silently. “There are three mentions of a foreign entity of sorts that could be an Infinity Stone but the descriptions were too vague, almost as if they spoke in code… to be truly honest, I believe this is about something, or rather someone else entirely. It seems to refer to people more than magical objects.” She said, not once averting her gaze. “I’ll need more to figure out if it’s really… When is Loki?”

Mobius looked up at last, noticing her almost suspicious interest in what was unfolding on the surveillance monitors.

“Never mind that. Those are just previews, getting him used to time and multiverse travels.” She hummed. Just what she’d expected. “He’s making things a lot more difficult for himself than they are. Makes me wonder if we should let him take part in Dave’s jubilee party on Saturday. How are you getting along with him?” He asked instead of answering her question. “I noticed he spends an awful lot of time around your office.” Blood bit at her cheeks. Did he know? Don’t be ridiculous. How would he? What was there to know anyway?

“He does. I am trying to be nice, unlike you lot. But we haven’t exactly been speaking much.” �� He only watches me work, mostly, seeking my presence like a bee hunting for honey… not that I’d mind. “Why?”

“No reason. You just seem tense. You will tell me if you notice anything… off about him, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Does me wanting to be near him and touch him count as off? She swallowed, saying nothing more.

“You won’t have to put up with Loki for much longer, I promise. Reese has recovered well, he’ll take over next week and you’ll have your unit all to yourself again. I’ll send Dave to get you those recordings, he should be able to retrieve them before the party.”

“Already?”

Mobius gave her a look and Jess slapped her forehead mentally. “I mean… Reese is feeling better already? I thought he was almost beheaded.”

“Exactly, almost.” Mobius chuckled.

Jess ignored that last bit. Her mind had gotten stuck at put up with Loki. Like she would admit to him that he had been pleasant to have around when he wasn’t trying to smash the pillars holding her life together like he had when he accused Mobius of using her like a tool. “And quite frankly, I am keen on keeping a safe distance between you,” he went on unfazed, “Loki is like a ticking time bomb. That collar is staying on until I can be one-hundred percent certain he is not up to some mischief.”

“What about my probation?”

The senior manager gave her a sly grin. “Consider it ended for now. But I’m watching you, Jess.”

She scoffed. “Of course you are.”

~*~

A/N: I’m always happy about comments, so let me know what you think or what you believe will happen next! ♥

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cynicalrainbows · 4 years ago

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An incredibly late happy birthday fic for the very lovely and very talented @shut-up-heather-d, who has been patiently waiting for this for weeks. After you read this, you should also take yourself to AO3 to read her OWN writing too, because it’s really excellent.

But here’s some fluff in the meantime. The request was for Kitty being taken care of by Catalina and Jane, and Catalina being the stricter ‘parent’.

‘I’m dying-’

Kitty rolls dramatically onto her stomach and buries her face in the couch cushion, displacing Cathy (who falls off the couch with a squeak and retreats hastily to the kitchen for paper towels to mop up the spilled coffee from her shirt).

‘You’re not dying Kit.’

Kitty lifts up her flushed face and tries to muster up the energy to glare at Catalina.

‘I AM.’

Catalina raises an unimpressed eyebrow. ‘You’re not dying, you have cramps. And if you’d just take the aspirin-’

‘But it tastes HORRIBLE-’

‘So you keep saying.’

Kitty flops back down with another groan and Catalina carries on tidying up.

‘I hate today, I’m really stressed and I have to make that phone call to the bank, on top of everything-’

Catalina sighs. She isn’t really sure how to help and she doesn’t like it- it feels like Kitty’s blaming her for her not being able to fix it. Of course, she knows this isn’t Kitty’s fault at all, just her own stupid brain but still…

Even so, she’ll do the best she can, even if advice IS all she can do.

‘Well, maybe if you go and get it done rather than putting it off….and you know it’s going to hurt until you take some painkiller, so you’re only hurting yourself by putting that off too.’

There. Sensible and hopefully enough to spur Kitty into action.

Kitty though just gives her a slightly wounded look and rolls onto her side.

After a while, the silence stretches out a little too long. She returns to the couch.

‘Kit?’

‘Mmm?’

Kitty doesn’t move from where her head is buried in the cushions- Catalina gently tucks a few locks of hair back behind her ear to get a look at slightly more of Kitty’s face, and her fingers brush against dampness on the girl's cheek.

‘Mija, are you alright?’

‘’M fine.’ It’s more indistinct than it should be- Catalina frowns. She starts to feel the first gnawings of guilt in the pit of her stomach.

‘Kitty?’

‘- I’m sorry.’

‘Oh Kit.’

Catalina pushes a few cushions aside and makes herself a space at the end of the sofa. The guilt grows, and she wonders if maybe advice hadn’t been what was needed after all.

‘You have nothing to apologise for. It’s ok.’

‘’M sorry. You don’t have to take care of me.’ It’s so small and wavery that Catalina immediately feels like the worst person in the world. It’s not her fault- she isn’t used to this, she’s used to dramatics needing to be curbed, she’s used to plain speaking and advice. That’s what she’s good at. Kitty half sits up as Catalina sits down, as if she’s going to retreat to her bedroom, and Catalina sighs. She’s fucked up.

‘Come here mija.’ Catalina tugs until Kitty reluctantly rests her head against Catalina’s leg, and begins to smooth her hair back from her warm forehead. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so snappish and unhelpful. I was trying to help and I think I just made it worse, didn’t I?’

‘It’s ok.’

‘I’m not actually cross with you, you know that don’t you?’

Kitty makes a small non-commital noise.

‘Don’t you?’

‘...I suppose.’

‘Good. Now what I can get to help you feel better, hm?’

Kitty’s face sinks into resignation. ‘I’ll take the aspirin. Is it still in the cabinet?’

It’s mildly painful to Catalina to actually witness this- how Kitty’s resistance, her own wants and needs, are ready to crumble in an instant if it means that she’ll be restored to favour (in the early days, she’d taken it for a pleasant compliance until Jane had set her straight.)

‘You don’t have to-’ Catalina stops herself; Kitty blinks at her warily, confusedly. She can see the question in Kitty’s eyes as to whether or not this is some sort of trick or trap. She doesn’t take it personally (mostly, usually)- she knows this wariness was bred into the girl a long, long time ago. ‘That is, I still think you should. But that wasn’t what I meant- I was just trying to think of an alternative.’

‘Oh.’

‘I could run you a bath? Or make you up a hot water bottle. The heat might help. Only if you want to though. You can stay here if you like.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I know. And you don’t have to either mija. But it might make you feel better.’

Kitty opens her mouth to give her usual polite refusal and then a cramp makes her tense- her eyes close for a moment and a nod is wrung out of her.

‘Ok. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Catalina insists Kitty stay on the couch while she turns on the bath. (She intends to use some of her own special fancy bubble bath in it, as a sort of apology, but realises to her chagrin that she’s run out. She uses some of Anne’s instead and tells herself it still counts.)

While Kitty soaks Catalina decides to make the hot water bottle anyway. Save them having to do the same rigmarole over whether or not she goes to all the trouble of boiling the kettle or not.

If Kitty doesn’t want it, it can just go on the floor or something.

Jane comes home just as the kettles switch flips off. Her cheeks are red from the wind- or possibly just from the three supermarket bags she’s laden down with.

Catalina stares.

‘Are you sure you got EVERYTHING?’

Jane nods, opening cupboards and pulling out draws as she stashes boxes and jars.

‘I think so- probably.’

‘Jane, you were picking up milk and bread.’

‘Oh!’ Jane catches the sarcasm too late, as she always does and colour rises in her cheeks as it always does. (She does not however either fly off the handle at Catalina for teasing her- as she used to, in the very early days- or shut down entirely and go silent and drawn in on herself- as she still does on very bad days, although they happily are getting rarer.) ‘Well I KNOW- but then I remembered it’s Cathy’s turn to cook tomorrow and she probably won’t have time to get to the supermarket before supper-’

‘You mean she’ll keep writing til the last minute and then panic like last time?’

Jane ignores her. ‘-SO I thought I’d get some staples just in case. And they had some of that pate Anna really likes on offer, and it seemed silly to not take advantage of THAT. And Anne finished the last of the cereal this morning so-’

‘We have at least three different kinds of cereal in the patry Jane.’

‘Yes but not the one that she really LIKES. And there were fresh muffins in the bread aisle, and sometimes it’s nice to have a bit of a treat for breakfast even if it ISN’T a weekend day, and THEN I thought that it would be a good idea to get stuff for making that shortbread that Joan really likes because she’s having a bit of a stressful week, poor thing-’

Catalina smiles despite herself and starts to help put things away.

‘I see…’

‘Don’t be jealous Catty, I got you some green tea.’

‘I do have green tea already.’

‘Yes but this is a special fancy looking NEW kind of green tea because I thought you might like a treat. Also a mango.’

‘Did you get anything for yourself?’

‘Yes.’ There’s only the slightest of hesitations and Catalina resists the urge to ask what: they both know it’ll just send Jane into a spiral of defensiveness as she tries to justify her spending money on herself to the insatiable long dead ghosts of the past.

‘Good. Well done.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And thank you for my treats- and for everything else. The others will be thrilled.’

‘I hope so. I got some stuff for Kitty and I to bake with too, there’s a recipe we saw on Bake Off that Anna liked the look of and Kit wanted to try it-’

‘I don’t think she’ll be quite up to that for the moment.’

‘Why? Why not?’ Jane looks suddenly urgently panicked and Catalina hastens to reassure her.

‘Nothing to worry about. Period pain, that’s all.’

‘Oh the poor little thing.’ Jane’s face creases into sympathy even as the anxiety leaves it. ‘Where is she?’

‘Taking a bath. I’m going to bring her a hot water bottle when she’s done. Actually-’ They hear the rush of water down the drain rattle the loose guttering. ‘I think that’s her now.’

‘Has she taken anything?’

‘She didn’t want the aspirin…’

Jane nods. ‘She doesn’t like the taste. I usually just end up bribing her. What did you do?’

‘....I- um- I told her to stop complaining.’

‘Catty!’

‘Sorry! I didn’t say it exactly like that.’

When she glances up at Jane, she’s supremely relieved to see that Jane looks more amused than vengeful.

‘What’s funny?’

‘Sorry. Nothing. Just…’ Jane bites back a smile. ‘You looked SO guilty when you admitted that. I don’t think you’re as cut out for the strict parent role as you think you are…’

Catalina can’t help but smile back. ‘Maybe not. I do want to make it clear I did apologise. And I WAS about to make her a hot chocolate to take up when you came in.’

Jane chuckles and hands over the bag of mini marshmallows. ‘Better get started then.’

Kitty’s struggling with her wet hair- cursing herself for her ill-thought out decision to lay back in the water and wondering whether to just leave it and lie down with it wet- when Jane taps on the door.

‘How are you feeling love?’

‘You’re back!’ For the first time since being struck down, Kitty feels actually, properly happy: she can’t quite explain it, but somehow, having Jane in the vicinity during a crisis just makes things better. Easier.

It didn’t even mean things were fixed or solved- for that, all the queens agreed, you needed Catalina or Anne or Anna (or Cathy if the problem involved etymology or linguistics or the interpretation of scripture). Jane was not the person you had around to fix things, they all knew.

But Jane was the person you’d position yourself close to once the solution to the problem had been identified and needed putting into place.

(Her role in this respect- always fairly clear- had been absolutely cemented the day that Anna had come home to find Catalina miserably struggling through a phone call, her head in Jane’s lap while Jane did needlepoint and fed her white chocolate buttons. Catalina had been slightly flushed upon discovery but determinedly insouciant, and to their eternal credit, the others had refrained from commenting.)

Kitty struggles to her feet to pull Jane properly into the room. ‘I’m fine! How was your shopping trip?!’

‘It was alright. They had those special dark chocolate biscuits I was waiting for them to restock at LAST-’

(Jane isn’t quite sure why talking about things she’s brought for herself to Kitty doesn’t set off the same anxiety as it does when admitting to having done so to anyone else. It doesn’t, and that’s enough for her.)

Kitty knows better than to comment on the purchase, but she beams proudly at her all the same and Jane shoots a small, grateful smile back- which fades quickly when she notices how tense the girl is.

‘Are you sure you’re ok? Is it still hurting? Catalina said you were having a really hard time of it.’

Kitty blushes slightly. ‘Yeah. Did she tell you I was making a fuss?’

She looks so forlorn, Jane thinks it would almost be funny if it wasn’t so very sad. She makes her voice as gentle as possible. ‘Of course not, sweetheart.’ She wraps an arm around Kitty’s shoulders, guides her to sit on the edge of the bed and then picks up the abandoned comb. ‘She said that you were in pain and that she was concerned. That’s all.’

‘Oh.’ Kitty keeps her head down as Jane begins to patiently work through the tangles. ‘I WAS making a fuss though…’

‘Actually, she told me that she feels awful for not being more sympathetic at first.’

‘But she doesn’t need to! She ran me a bath and everything. And I shouldn’t be so whiney anyway.’

‘Love-’ Jane keeps combing, and Kitty unconsciously relaxes back into her touch, enjoying it. ‘Remember what we told you? You don’t need to feel bad about being taken care of sometimes. We all want to help. Especially if you’re not feeling good.’

‘But I’m an adult, I-’

‘Yes?’

‘I-’ Kitty bites her lip miserably. ‘I should be able to just...handle myself, you know?’

Jane shrugs. ‘Is that what you think the rest of us should do then?’

‘What?’

‘Like, I should just handle myself and stop bothering Anna or you when I need help doing a form? Or how Cathy should just get over it when she gets overwhelmed and keep going?’

‘No of course not-’

‘Or how Anne should just stop being late for things and finish jobs when she starts them?’

‘No! That would be horrible, that’s-’

Jane nods. ‘So why is it any different for you? Why wouldn’t we be just as eager to help you when we love you just as much? Hm?’

Kitty sighs in defeat, and then winces as the comb is tugged. ‘I know. I know that really. I suppose. It’s just….hard to know it properly sometimes.’

‘I know love.’ Jane leans down and kisses the top of her head, then begins to plait her hair back. ‘We’ll remind you though. As much as you need.’

Kitty opens her mouth to reply but she’s interrupted by another tap on the door- Catalina, bearing a tray and looking slightly awkward.

‘I thought you might like a hot drink-’ As she puts the tray down on the nightstand, Kitty sees that it bears one fuzzy hot water bottle, one plate of shortbread, two mugs of tea- and possibly the most decadent hot chocolate she has ever seen in her life.

She’d been about to apologise again- she still can’t quite shake the anxiety that Catalina might maybe still be annoyed at her despite her reassurances- but the elaborateness of the drink surprises a laugh out of her instead.

‘Catty! It looks-’

Jane’s laughing too. ‘That’s….oh my goodness!’

Catalina tries and fails to frown. ‘Hey! I worked very hard on this. It is NOT easy to get that many marshmallows into one mug-’

‘You look like you managed though-’

‘Just about-’ She glances at Kitty, slightly anxiously. ‘Is it ok? Do you like it?’

‘I love it!’ Kitty bounces off the bed to hug Catalina in gratitude and then winces. ‘Argh. Bad idea. Sorry.’

‘It’s ok-’ Catalina hands her the hot water bottle and Kitty presses it thankfully to her stomach. ‘Why don’t you get comfortable? It might feel better if you lie down.’

Jane starts to arrange pillows as Kitty settles onto the bed. ‘Jane, I’m not an invalid you know, I honestly can do it myself-’

‘I know love.’ She doesn’t stop. ‘But you’re sick so-’

‘I’m not sick.’

‘Being in pain is a kind of sick.’ Catalina chips in. ‘Just indulge us mija. Now, do you want some peace and quiet so you can rest? Or do you want company?’

Kitty hesitates. ‘It’s ok love, whichever you prefer. We won’t take it personally if you’d rather have some space-’

Kitty nods; Jane and Catalina wait a moment and then pick up their tea and start for the door. As Jane opens it, they’re stopped by a squeak from the bed.

‘Kit?’

‘Do- do you mind staying? If you’re not too busy?’ She squeezes the hot water bottle case anxiously. ‘Just, it really hurts and it’s nice to have a distraction and-’ Despite their reassurance, Kitty still half expects to catch an eye roll or a reluctant sigh. Of course they don’t want to stay really, of course they’re busy…

But instead, Jane smiles as she closes the door; Catalina squeezes her hand as she settles onto the bed.

‘Well done mija. I know that wasn’t easy.’

It’s a silly thing to need validation for but it makes the anxious bands that have seized around Kitty’s chest loosen anyway.

They get comfortable on the bed either side of her and Jane reaches for Kitty’s laptop.

‘How about some trash tv? That usually makes me feel better.’

Kitty settles back, letting her head rest against Catalina’s shoulder. It feels warm and comfortable, a good place to rest. ‘Sure. Not Love Island though, I feel too gross to enjoy watching people in bikinis.’

‘Fine.’ Jane pouts slightly and Catalina chuckles. ‘Bake Off?’

‘Ok.’

They watch in silence for a few minutes, as the sprightly music plays and mouth watering images of sponges and tarts fill the screen. Catalina hands Kitty her hot chocolate and it’s very bit as good as it looks; Jane’s arm around her is pleasantly soothing.

‘Catty?’

‘Hm?’

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome mija.’

(Kitty doesn’t just mean for the hot chocolate. But she thinks Catalina probably knows this.)

#six #six the musical fanfiction #sixfic #six fanfiction

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chayacat · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (19)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Ahhh...Love. The most wonderful thing in the world for anyone. Being in love and loved by someone can make you grow wings... figuratively. Life seems more radiant, exciting, fun, enjoyable when you are in love. A bond is forged between you and the one you loved. This bond can become, at the end of each road, stronger or more fragile. This is what I will call: gold yarn and black yarn. The golden yarn represents a strong love, a love that has gone through all the trials and that has come out stronger and stronger. This yarn is unbreakable.

The black yarn on the other hand... Represents a broken love. A love that ends up cracking on all sides. A love in which arguments follow, which sometimes comes to the hands. A love that, despite the desperate attempts of one or the other, ends up broken permanently. And in the end, we separate, each one rebuilding his life. Sometimes you get there. But some can't stand it... and the consequences are irreversible.

But let's go back to the positive side! It is in a serene, cheerful mood that you got up this morning. After all, there's enough! You and Jed are dating now! last night was the best night of your life. Knowing that it’s reciprocal, and that, despite the arguments to come, he will support you when it’s necessary, makes you feel lighter, more soothed. It will all be very different compared to Alex... you promised yourself that.

You and Alex dated for two years. You’ve met him in high school, he was a little genius and a sportsman, while you were more linguistic and theatral. While the first year was pleasant and fulfilled, the second was a disaster. He cheated on you from the beginning with someone else, but he didn't want to tell you. The worst part is that for him, all this was normal, the other girl was prettier, more... generous in terms of her forms. While you were just a little girl in her eyes. It broke your heart and you kicked him in the ass.

“This is all he deserves for doing that to me. Bastard.” You said to yourself.

And you’re right. No one should play with feelings. No one. But Jed is different. You know that. He'll never let you down for another one. But... What if another woman tries to steal him from you? What if she used her charms to seduce him? And that it worked? You couldn't stand it; you couldn't bear the fact that you were still abandoned because of a hottie who only wants sex and nothing more.

Don't start thinking about that! this is just the beginning of your relationship. You've got time. And knowing Jed, you think he won't be stupid enough to succumb to the charms of another.

“I’ll treat you like a queen. Do you prefer a boring life to that? Think carefully...He or I.”

The words of Ghostface came back to you. It's true that you like to have a life of risk. That you're willing to do crazy things. But you have your own business now. Maybe it's time to think about a more settled life. Quieter. And with Jed, you can't dream better. And then, Ghostface treating you like a queen? What a good joke. You imagine Ghostface bringing you a cup of tea... filled with sleeping pills. And once asleep.... he could do whatever he wants with you.

And then, if in the early days it would be "nice", Later it will be blows. insults. And in the end, he will force you to participate in his massacres. A life that would shame your parents if they were still alive. In a sense, and even if it's sad and mean to admit it, you're glad that your parents are no longer here, or that you don't live in the same city as your uncles and aunts. Who knows what Ghostface would have done? Kill them? Surely. To use them to blackmail you and never leave him? Also. And you don't even dare imagine if you had children with this lunatic. Explain to your child that his father is a murderer, but otherwise everything is fine. You're talking about a family life.

Today is your day off. Yes, technically you spent two days in the hospital because of a fool who had the good idea to attack you in broad daylight in front of everyone. Let's hope he enjoys his time in prison. So, in real life, you could have worked today. But you're not sure you'll have a lot of people. Melina isn't working today either. It's her day off. She sent you a message last night saying she would come by today to discuss it. So, she's going to hear the news from you. And knowing her she's going to bother that poor Jed, as soon as she gets back to work tomorrow.

“Melina is Melina. I don’t think that anybody can change her. But at least, it may be better that she is so. You never get bored with her. And then... I know that she will move away all those who want to separate us, knowing her temper.” you said to yourself, laughing.

First thing to do...clean the apartment a bit. Because since you've been here and especially since your short stay in the hospital, you live with dust sheep. And if you personally don't care, to receive guests it's not very elegant. And after cleaning, a good shower is required. Then kitchen operation! Knowing that Melina will surely come to eat at your home, hurry to know how yesterday's evening went.

You spend a good hour cleaning everything before you shower and you dress comfortably. That's when Melina knocked on the door. All excited she gave you a big hug, a little too tight for your liking. But she finally lets you go and both go into the living room. You serve her a glass of rosé, the only alcohol you have for the guests. While for you, a homemade orange juice is deserved.

“Then tell me! How did it go last night? How was he dressed? What did you eat?? Did you kiss? Are you together??” She asks, excited like a child waiting to receive his gift at Christmas.

“Calm down, calm down. I'll tell you all about it. But stay quiet, you look like a little girl at Christmas or in an amusement park.” you respond laughing, seeing your friend's enthusiasm.

“Sorry! It's just that...when he told me that you have a dinner with him, I was so excited to know how it happened!”

“Well... he was really cute. Very elegant, we had a good laugh. And we eaten very well. He had made everything from starter to dessert. And we explained and...”

“Aaaaaaand ?”

“We kissed. Twice. So, we can say that we are officially in a relationship.”

“I knew it, I knew it, i knew it! Oh (y/n) you don't know how happy I am for both of you! She answered so happy.

you can't help but laugh. She's really sweet. You both eat a small pasta salad, with surimi, piquillo's, and a little tuna followed by a strawberry pie. Melina had taken the cheese and bread; she was not the type to come to someone's house empty-handed. You talk about everything and nothing, laughing at jokes, innuendo and other stupid things like that. It was good for you. You needed it. Then the phone rang: Mr Parkson. There was a click in your head.

It's been a week. And you haven't even thought about inheritance. What are you going to tell him? To give you an extra week? impossible, he had told you: a week no more. He warned you that he'll be here in an hour to talk. Then he greeted you before hanging up and when Melina saw your face restless, her smile disappeared. No choice... you’re going to have to tell her, too.

“Somethings wrong?” she asks worried.

“It was Mr Parkson. He'll be here in an hour.”

“Your Banker? It must be important for him to come to your house.”

“Well...He’s not my banker.” you answered by going back to sit down.

You tell her everything in detail. The death of your parents, the fact that you are the only heiress, that you've pushed back, all this time, that fateful moment because you're still struggling to accept this... Melina had listened without saying anything, going from attention to emotion, very sad to know the reason why, you have family photos everywhere at home.

“Well...you lie. But that is clearly understandable. No one wants to tell that kind of thing. We would like to forget it or that it never happened. We always hope that it was a nightmare and that when we wake up, we see our loved ones or call them. But deep down... we know very well that it’s real. And so, this guy... is there to carry out their last will. But you're the only one? no other family member can touch it?” she said confused.

“No. I’m the only Heiress. But my uncles and aunts deserve their shares too. My parents bequeath their house to me, and the total of their life insurance. As well as a small pecul that they had set aside. And the jewels. But I don't want it. It would hurt me too much.” you respond sadly.

“I understand. But you should take it. And then give it to your uncles and aunts. Or ask him if he can do it. “

“Yeah...you’re right.”

Melina changed the subject to make you smile, cheer you up. She's so adorable. She's the perfect best friend for you. And yet, you only know each other recently. After an hour, Mr. Parkson knocked on your door. You don't even wonder how he knew your address, he said it to you: when he has to find someone, he's looking for information. He greeted Melina and you explain to him that she knows about it and that so she can stay. He nodded and settled down to a chair coming out of his little briefcase the documents. you offered him a coffee which he accepted as well as a coffee for you and Melina.

“Right. I don't think I need to remind you why I'm here. I left you another week to think. Now I'm going to need an answer: yes, or no?” He said placing his glasses on his nose.

“Yes. But I want to be clear: my uncles and aunts inherit on the one hand. Everything I want to keep from my parents... are their wedding rings. Plus, my mother's amethyst. Everything else, the house the money and everything else will go to my uncles and aunts. Do you understand that?”

“...As you wish. But your parent’s life insurance goes obligatory to you. It will be paid into your bank account automatically. It will be up to you to withdraw the money and give it away or send it to your uncles and aunts if you wish. As for the rings... I've got them here.” He replied before taking out a small jewellery pouch where your parents' wedding rings and your mother's rings were.

“I knew your parents well. They were great people and very good friends. They wanted you to give their wedding rings for your wedding day... and your mother absolutely wanted you to give her jewels. The amethysts is there, too. If you'd rather keep only this one and give the rest to your family, I will." He said a little smile on his face.

“Thanks a lot Mr... I appreciate it. Have... Have we found the murderer? Or at least, did we find clues to know his identity?” you ask.

“Unfortunately, not miss. He vanished. And he may even be dead by now. I am afraid that unfortunately we never know the answer to this terrible question.” he responds.

You sign the documents, to which he adds notes on your exchange, then got up, greeted you and Melina before leaving. He left you a copy of the documents and, as requested the desired rings. Then it was Melina's turn to leave after 2 hours of discussions to cheer you up. Again. She left you her phone number and you gave her yours, so you could communicate.

You clean the table, do the dishes and sit on the couch, the rings on the coffee table. You take them gently in your hands, tears rising slightly in your eyes. From the beginning, they intended to give them to you on your wedding day... Day they will never attend now. the rest of the day was sullen. In the evening even more. All you wanted was for Jed to be there, to hug you right now. But the poor man already has a lot of work, it's better to let him rest for now.

He sent you a message to find out if everything was okay, and you answer him by lying so he wouldn't worry. The poor man replied that he had a lot of work to do between the two Ghostface murders, but with a little coffee, he was going to make it. He wished you good night hoping to see you again soon, and you did the same. You put your phone on the table before looking at the rings again, no longer holding back your tears. They hadn't done anything...

“Well, if I knew I would have brought a handkerchief. Unless you prefer a hug? I'm very good at comforting people you know... especially women.”

You look towards Ghostface which was leaning on the table making you this little hand sign so special of the character. he's the last person in the world you want to see right now.

“Are you really going to come to my house every night? You have no better thing to do like killing poor innocent people like the sick you are? Or am I doomed to support you for the rest of my life as you told me so well?” You said a little grumpy.

“But it's that we're a little cranky tonight... my poor darling, I sympathize with your sorrow.” he said, approaching you.

“You? have compassion??? You kill innocent people who have asked for nothing and you DARE to say that you have compassion for me???”

“hey calm down my angel. I’m maybe a psycho to you but I'm still a human. I know what it's like to lose those you love. Especially when they are killed without them being asked for anything. In those moments when you have the murderer in front of you, you want only one thing: to make him regret. But back to us. I see you've made your choice quickly. I wonder if he enjoyed your lips as much as I loved them. Definitely I think I would never understand women.”

“What does that have to do with you? I much prefer Jed than you!”

“Sweety; sweety, sweety... You don't realize how lucky you are. I keep you alive because I have a soft spot for you. I could have killed you, gutted you, dismembered you, made you the most beautiful of all my masterpieces.” He lay you down on the couch, blocking your arms and legs with all his weight, and through his mask, you can guess a demonic, unhealthy smile. He drew his face closer to yours, very close to your ear. “Compared to him, I can take you beyond the seventh heaven... You'd be happy every night.”

He freed one of his arms, holding yours with the remaining arm to raise his mask slightly at the level of the mouth. Then he lifted your t-shirt stripping you to the chest. Then he lowered his head to your belly button and threw a tongue at it. Little by little, he went up his tongue to your chest. He smiled as he felt your skin shivering at his touch, while you're holding out a single sound. With his free hand, he unbuttoned your jeans, just enough for his hand to attack your privacy. You bite your lips, holding you to moan at all costs. Don't give him what he wants. Or he'll benefit even more.

“Are you resisting? How cute. I like it even more. I don't like easy women. There is no pleasure.” He replied, pressing his finger against the sensitive point, causing you to startle a little.

He chuckled, passing his finger up and down on your intimacy, which eventually made you let go of a little moan. He continued for a few minutes before stopping and getting up, hiding the bottom of his face again, allowing you to get dressed. he recoiled, sneering, while you stare at him, ashamed and angry.

“I'm going to make you languish a little. That'll be your punishment. maybe it'll make you think. or maybe not. But in any case, I'm going to enjoy it. Remember that you belong to me. On this... I wish you good night my sweet little star. Sweet dreams.”

Then he vanished like usual. you sighed, slightly annoyed by what had just happened. He's strong, very strong even. But at least you know he's lost people in his life. At least that is what he suggested. If that happens, it had nothing to do with him. But keep that in mind. That's a good clue. In the meantime, it's time for you to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, and you need all the rest you need.

Sleep well...

Little one.

***

(And that’s it! I'm not too far from being able to pass my code exam! but I confess that driving does not enchant me too XD but hey it's always like that at first, right? If you have any questions, feel free! Oh, one last thing! I wouldn't normally be present from April 6 to 8. So, the current chapter at that time will come out a little later than expected! this will also be the case on April 16, 17 and 18! I apologize in advance I would do my best to advance them as far as possible! Good weekend everyone! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by deadlight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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concussed-to-pieces · 5 years ago

Text

Stay Safe Part Seven: Like A Ghost

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: Eventual Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome, welcome! I will apologize for word count, but I will never apologize for length...or girth. Enjoy!

Tag List: @wrestlingfae @huliabitch @helplessly-nonstop @toxiicpop @culturalrebel @sinnamon-bunn @literal-fand0m-trash @fioccodineveautunnale @hxldmxdxwn @lizajane3 @thewaythisis @nellyneko @absurdthirst @kylolover96 @crownofmanga @eli-bourne @lackofhonor @talesfromtheguild

Part One: Should Have Known Better

Part Two: Tranquil Turmoil

Part Three: Vibroblade Mettle

Part Four: Reaching Out

Part Five: Dark Past

Part Six: Go Alone

He was silent for quite a while and you were loathe to break it, sitting on the edge of the co-pilot seat with the harness secured loosely around you. A force of habit, more than anything.

He appeared to be studying the various star charts, flipping back and forth between two particular ones to select the shortest route to the next destination. You were still uncertain as to why he had requested your presence; your navigational skills were bare-bones compared to his, so that couldn't be it.

"You remember what I said about the button on the comlink?" The Mandalorian asked abruptly, making you straighten up. "That it sticks?"

"Yeah, of course. You told me a few times." You responded, your brow furrowed. "Why, did something happen?"

"That night, you…" he paused, clearing his throat. "After you said good night."

Oh no.

"I thought you were in pain."

No no no.

"At least, that's what I thought a-at first." Even through your panic, you picked up on his voice sounding strange again.

"I-I--" You stuttered, your mind spooling back all the incredibly embarrassing, incriminating things you had said. Maker. "Look, I-"

"Do you do that often?" He questioned bluntly. He hadn't turned to look at you and that, of all things, made you angry.

"Listen, I get it, okay? It's gross, someone like me getting off on thinking about someone like you. Miles worse since you had to hear it, I'm sure." You spat, your embarrassment compounding to a scalding fury. "I wish it hadn't happened, but now that I know it did all I can say is forget-"

The sound of his harness buckle hitting the side of his chair interrupted your heated rant and the next thing you knew he was standing over you, leather gloves creaking from the pressure of his fists clenching. You quailed a little, suddenly unsure of yourself. What if he thought you were dirty, disgusting for fantasizing about him? Oh Maker, what if he was angry? What if he forced you to leave? What if-

The Mandalorian jabbed a finger down to undo your own buckle, his grip unforgiving steel when he tugged you up out of your seat. You stared hard at his chest, willing yourself not to cry.

"I couldn't get your sounds out of my head." He rasped finally. "I was up all night. Couldn't sleep." His hand moved up slowly, like he was in a trance, and he ran his thumb over your lower lip. "Th-Thinking about you spread out on the floor, whimpering for me." He muttered, and you started to realize that he was absolutely not angry. This was...something else. "Begging for…sounded like you were right next to me a-and you're this beautiful...fucking, perfect-" He stopped abruptly, his words choking off in his throat.

It was restraint.

Iron restraint was keeping him barely reined-in but he wanted this, the breaths panting out through the modulator a tell-tale sign that he was under duress. He pulled off his right glove and reached out hesitantly, cradling your hand in his bare palm when you didn't move away.

His fingers were so hot. You could feel them trembling and you wondered what thoughts must be running rampant in his head as you folded your other hand over his own, keeping it there. He inhaled raggedly, his helmet listing to the side. "Maker, I've been--I was…"

"What?" You whispered, feeling as though you were trying to approach a wild animal.

He appeared to be having trouble articulating. For all his self-assurance, he had never really displayed any sort of awe-inspiring grasp of linguistics. The tradeoff for a creed of people that so often ended up solitary, you reasoned. In a way, it was endearing.

A soft noise issued from him, almost a groan, almost a sigh, and he lifted his free hand to his chest. His index and middle finger drew a circle and then he rapped his knuckles against the beskar over his heart, steel ringing softly in the silence of the cockpit. "K'oyacyi, stay alive, stay safe." He murmured. "An order, rigid, firm, with heart underneath it."

Oh.

"Do you remember the first time you said that to me?" The Mandalorian pressed on, "You were still scared of me, but you said it anyway. Right before I tangled with Dune. "

You erupted into giggles. "I know, you got covered in needles from those trees."

"Thought I'd never get all of them out of my cape." He was smiling, you could hear it in his voice.

"You sound nice when you smile."

"I...h-how...thank you." He stammered.

He stepped back after a moment, gesturing down at the star charts. Destination: Nevarro. The place you had called home for over a cycle. The place where you had once longed to return. It seemed like a lifetime ago that you had been cowering in the hold, begging to be delivered safely to Nevarro.

"I'm...I'm bringing you back. This is where you wanted to go." He said with difficulty. "Once we arrive, I..." He paused, looking down at you. "I don't know what will happen."

"I'm coming with you." You said quickly.

You felt the difference, the shift in his attitude. One moment he had been warm, the next, an impenetrable wall of beskar slid up between you. "No, you're not."

You wanted to scream at the change, to rail at it until he relented and gave you back that brief taste of what you had been searching for all this time. The man, not the mystery. "How am I supposed to keep you safe if you go places without me?" You reasoned wildly, trying to phrase it like you were joking.

"I don't need you to keep me safe." For all his hatred of droids, he certainly excelled at channeling their impassive demeanor. "I would rather you stayed out of this. It's business between the Guild and myself."

"Then why are Cara and Kuiil here too?" You challenged.

"That's...they're here to…" He shook his head and looked back towards the viewport, obviously frustrated and either unwilling or unable to explain himself.

Your heart sank in grim realization. "You're going to do something."

"I'm always doing someth-"

"You know what I mean!" You interrupted him sharply. "Something that you shouldn't do. I heard the message, most of it anyway."

"It's something that I have to do." He sighed, the sound bone-tired. "Otherwise, they'll just send more hunters after the kid. It's better this way. Better if I go along with the plan."

"B-But-"

He reached for you abruptly, hands gripping your shoulders. "What would you do? Since you've got all the answers?" He growled. "I can't keep running. We've barely made it this far. I won't get steady work without the Guild. If I do this, Karga wipes my record and I can get back to the way things were. The kid shouldn't have to be fucking hunted, running scared all the time!"

You glared up at him, furious because of course there was nothing you could do to change his mind. You didn't have a solution to this problem and he knew it, yet he still wanted to take it out on you! "Don't yell at me, you-!" Angry words seethed in your chest, molten hot like lava. You wanted to rage at him, stars knew you wanted to. But instead, tears welled up in your eyes. "Y-You--!" Maker, why couldn't you just be angry? "You're so stupid!" You sobbed out.

He was silent in the wake of your tumultuous explosion, hesitantly digging his thumbs in to rub comforting circles on your shoulders after several minutes of just standing there like a statue. "I don't know what else to do." He admitted, his voice nothing but a soft whisper. "All I know is what I have to do. You need to understand, the IG and I...I made the choice to hunt the kid first. I turned him in first. I took the payment first."

"You g-gave them the baby?" You snuffled incredulously. "I thought-"

"They offered me an entire camtono of beskar." He replied, his voice dark with shame. Your eyes widened, breath catching in your chest. So much! "Slid me an ingot beforehand to sweeten the pot. It was Purge-smelted, like the one you had. It needed to be brought back to the tribe. Healed. Melted down to sponsor Foundlings." He sounded like he was still trying to convince himself, still trying to justify his actions. "This is the Way."

"Stars." You breathed.

"I handed over the kid, got my beskar, and I...I just...I realized that I had…" He was struggling again, settling for a shrug. "So I went and stole him back and then left." He cocked his head to the side, his tone gone wryly fond. "That's when you showed up."

The individual in gleaming beskar armor gave no sign that they heard you, their rifle barrel trained between your eyes--

Now that you knew what had transpired immediately prior to your arrival, you were even more impressed that he hadn't shot you on sight. "I'm going with you. I don't care." You hiccupped, wiping your eyes.

"That's the problem. I do." His voice pitched lower with sincerity, fingers digging in slightly. "How many damn times have I put you in danger? Between Sorgan, Toro, the stunt with Ranzar's group? This isn't a life you want, stowaway." He was trying to convince you, you realized, possibly himself as well.

"I want a life with you." You whispered, your words naked and honest.

The Mandalorian's voice sounded raw even through the modulator. "No, you don't."

His hands left your shoulders and you almost started crying again, only just managing to fend off the impulse through sheer, indomitable spite. You seized his bare hand before he could move away from you and you raised it to your lips.

"Don't," he breathed, his helmet bowed against his shoulder. "You're making this much more difficult than it needs to be."

"I don't believe you." You knew the words were cruel, but you didn't regret them. You stared defiantly up at the impassive man, then you kissed his knuckles.

And all hell broke loose.

The Mandalorian ripped his hand out of your hold and grabbed a fistful of your tunic, shoving you back against the wall. "You think so?" He seethed through his teeth. "You really--you believe-I--" His body crowded yours, beskar breastplate rising and falling against your chest with every furious breath he took. Your own breathing hitched, legs trembling slightly as you stared him down. "Do you have any idea how hard you're making this for me?!" He finally managed to snarl. Not angry but frustrated, scared.

His pelvis rested against yours, and through his flight suit... "Yeah." You replied, giving him your cheekiest smirk. "Yeah, I'm getting an idea."

"You-" he stopped short, obviously confused before you pointedly rolled your hips. His helm dropped and he sucked in a ragged breath, the hand still fisted in your shirt tugging you hesitantly closer after a moment. "More. Fuck, I just-" His other hand grappled with your belt loops, wrenching your lower half flush to his. "More."

You squirmed in an effort to get comfortable and he snapped his teeth with an audible click!, the noise sending lightning sparks through your body. As he tilted his head back, no doubt in an attempt to regain some composure, the thick column of his throat revealed itself tantalizingly from beneath the layers of beskar and cowling.

"Want to touch you." He said helplessly.

"I'm not going to stop you."

"I know, that's the fucking problem."

"That seems like the exact opposite of a problem to me." You tucked your face against his shoulder, fingers dragging his cowl out of the way, and you felt his whole body tense as you pressed your mouth to the sensitive skin of his throat.

The Mandalorian made a noise that sounded almost pained, his gloved hand shooting up to thread through your hair. "Maker, you...fuck-" His voice cracked when you bit down gently. "Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I want--"

"What do you want?" You asked softly.

"I--" The armored man surged forward to nudge his knee between your legs, spreading them wider. His fingers fought with your placket for a split-second, and then he had it splayed open. "You." He growled, gracelessly shoving his bare hand into your underwear. He stopped dead, clearly startled by how wet you already were. "Oh, you--you-?"

As if he hadn't had you in his helmet the other night begging him to fuck you. You whimpered, licking and nipping at the skin of his neck to try and encourage him to keep moving. "Come on, don't stop-"

His fingers shakily curved to cup your mound, rapid breathing all but deafening through the modulator. "You're so warm." He sounded dazed, his index finger tracing your slit before his knuckles collided with the slick that had pooled in your panties. "Maker, I just-"

His hand slithered free and you whined at the loss, confused when he quickly clapped his other hand over your eyes. There was a soft chuff of air and then you heard the distinct noise of a tongue hard at work. Your thighs clenched instinctively. Gods, was he tasting you? The low, unmodulated groan that followed only intensified your suspicions and arousal in equal measure.

"So hot." His bare fingers delved back into your drenched pussy, smearing your slick liberally around your clit. He hadn't removed the hand from your eyes yet, warm leather kissing your cheekbones. "You're so wet, I--fuck-" Whatever limited articulation he did possess seemed to have been thrown to the wayside, the Mandalorian resorting to a litany of sighed swears that had your body rocking against his hand.

The hand that he kept pulling free. You could hear him shoving his helmet up to taste you every time, licking your arousal off of his fingers like he was starving.

This was all achingly one-sided, despite his original protests. "H-Hey." You said shakily, trying to get his attention, "not that I'm not having legitimately the best time of my life, b-but I'm not doing anything for you-"

"Wrong." He replied breathlessly. "Everything for me."

"I just feel like--I-!" Your voice cracked, then broke embarrassingly high when he hooked his fingers a certain way and ground the heel of his palm up. You grabbed his shoulders, your body caving into his as your legs started to tremble.

"Everything for me." He repeated, feverishly working his thumb in circles around your clit. "Everything, everything-" He nudged your face against his neck, muffling your hungry whimpers and moans with his cowl. "-Perfect-"

Your nails dug into his pauldrons and a satisfied growl rumbled in his chest as you came apart under his touch.

His hand finally left your eyes, but at that point you were having difficulty opening them anyway. You dimly heard him tearing at his zippers, the lower fly of his flight suit apparently giving him some trouble. He snarled and the feral noise ripped down your back like a searing blade, making you quiver against the wall.

His gloved hand cupped the back of your neck, tugging your head down until you lazily blinked open your eyes, somnolent and simply luxuriating in the feeling. "Look." He breathed, seeming almost shy.

Oh. Oh, he was huge.

You were absolutely looking.

He had his cock in hand, the whole surface shining with a mixture of precome and your own arousal. As you watched, the head of it slowly vanished into his fist, and then emerged even slicker than before. "You're such a tease." You whimpered, loving the way his hips jerked at the sound of your voice. "Are you going to put it into me or do I have to beg?"

"You...you want-?" The Mandalorian sounded absolutely shattered.

"Please, please fuck me." You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to the bare skin you could find. "Please." Granted, you were unsure of your body's capability to take...all of that, but you were absolutely game to try.

"Stars, you're killing me." He grated out, tugging at your pants so you could kick them off. Strong hands gripped the backs of your thighs and he hoisted you up against his body, shoving his liner shirt to the side in the process. His cock ended up trapped between the slick folds of your pussy and his stomach and you loved the helpless noise he made in his throat.

Your back hit the wall a little higher than before and you wrapped your legs around his hips, wriggling into a slightly more comfortable position.

"Tell me to stop." He begged, his cock throbbing against your sensitive clit as he shifted his hips. The motions sent tiny little shudders of delight up and down your spine.

In reply, you rested your forehead on his helmet, staring into the visor. You imagined you caught the faintest glimpse of his eyes, wide and waiting. "You want me to ask nicely?" You crooned, "Please fuck me."

His cock slowly, slowly surged up into you, the blunt press of it robbing you of your breath. The Mandalorian's snarl was music to your ears, "Have t-t--go...slow." And stars he was huge, huge, you were bewildered that you were managing so well on this first push. You thanked the Maker that he had already made you come once, at least he wouldn't have any lubrication issues!

Words appeared to fail him rapidly, the armored man focused solely on burying his cock in you as deeply as he could. You finally felt the fabric of his flight suit against your groin and you growled, your fingers raking hungrily at his back plating. "Fuc-kk--y-you're so big-" You gasped.

His first real thrust ruined you. Your back arched and your mouth fell open of its own accord as the breath left your body, your mind dissolving into static. The Mandalorian pressed his forehead to your own. "S'--okay?" He slurred, clearly concerned but not in the right frame of mind to fully coordinate a sentence.

"Move, oh please, please," You begged, "fuck me open, f-fuck me, fuck me-"

His cock withdrew, and-and--

"M'sorry-" he choked out, cradling the back of your head to keep it from hitting the wall as he mercilessly pounded your cunt. "So--hot, wet, I--"

"Don't stop, please please please-" you sobbed against his neck, your fists clenched into his flight suit. "P-lease, I need it, I need you, gods I need you so much-" The words tumbled from your lips, as brutally honest as you could let yourself be, as he fucked them out of you. "I need you so much, I need you so much--"

I love you so much, I love you so much.

"N-Need…" You felt his body go taut underneath you, the tension making his cock throb at your inner walls. "You--me?"

"Yes." You keened, your second orgasm building to a crest in your belly.

"So good-" Every impressive inch of him plunged into you and then he stopped, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held still for the barest second. "Safe." His helmet tipped back and he groaned, fumbling his free hand down to stroke your clit and fuck you through your orgasm. "I--want you, p-please--all this skin, f-uck, y-yes you feel so--!"

He was grunting, straining, snarling out half-nonsense and then you raised one trembling hand to his chest. Two fingers traced a circle on the center of his beskar plate and as his chin tipped down to watch you, you tapped your knuckles over his heart. "Safe." You whispered.

He came in you with a seething moan, his fingers clawing at your hips while you clung tightly to him.

Heavy breaths rattled his entire body. You weren't much better, your chest heaving against his own. The Mandalorian groaned deep in his throat, dragging at the hem of your tunic. "What's wrong?" You asked breathlessly.

He didn't answer, just continued to haul the tunic up and over your head. He then rutted his hips up, punching a pitiful little whine out of you. How was he still hard?!

"More." He begged.

…

The Mandalorian's head tipped back and he swore, the noise gravelly.

You sprawled comfortably between his legs, naked as the day you were born and swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. You had been there for an extended period of time, though you didn't particularly care. The pace you had set was languid, unhurried, and he seemed perfectly happy to just sit in his pilot chair with his cock resting on your tongue.

The urgency that he displayed earlier hadn't faded at all despite that, both of his now-ungloved hands hungrily stroking over your jaw, your shoulders, the back of your neck.

"If I don't--don't-" He gasped out suddenly. "I want you to know, I-"

You pulled off of his cock and he grunted, shuddering. "You can just blow off steam, you know. Not everything has to have an important reason." You informed him, your nails scratching lightly at the flight suit that still covered his thighs. You ducked back down to kiss and lick at his balls, and you heard him choke when your tongue soothed over the sensitive skin.

His abdomen spasmed underneath the thin liner shirt, muscles twitching and jumping the longer you lavished his balls with attention. "W-hy--I don't-I don't--" He stuttered, rushing to wrap his fist around the base of his cock to hold his orgasm back again. This would mark the fourth time since you had settled between his legs, but you were hardly complaining. "Oh, fuck, f--uck-"

"Don't you want to come?" You asked curiously, licking a wet stripe up the side of his cock and fingers.

His helmet slammed back against the headrest hard enough to make you wince. "W-Want--hngh-I don't want this t-to...don't want it to end. Feel so good-!"

His voice broke when you grazed your fingernails softly over his balls. Despite him coming in you earlier, he seemed to have more than enough to spare. You wondered with a lewd thrill just how much he might come if he was toyed with long enough.

"Used t' think about--about this. A-About. You." He confessed guiltily. "Fuck my fist, wishing it was your...c--unt, fuck-"

"Yeah? Did you get off on me?" You asked teasingly. "Did you wish you were fucking me?"

"I d-didn't mean to-" he moaned, the noise almost a whimper. "I just...you were...g-good to me, n' sometimes I would--I would--" He spread his legs a little wider and shoved his liner shirt up, exposing the planes of his abdomen to you in a languid show. He then slid a single finger down the side of his cock, smearing the precome that had seeped forth once you removed your mouth. "Fuck my fist, just--j-just wishing that I could…" He choked off his train of thought when you leaned up and licked at the skin he had revealed. "Oh, oh, fuck-"

"I'll suck you off for as long as you want, and you can fuck me for as long as you want." You breathed.

"N-No, no, have to do something for you t-too." The Mandalorian protested, his hands grasping at your shoulders. "I can't just t-ake-"

"You want to do something for me?"

"Anything. Wh-Whatever you want."

"Kiss me?" You whispered.

His entire body went still. "I…"

"You can cover my eyes, but I promise I won't peek. It doesn't even have to be on the mouth, if you don't want to! I just…" You fidgeted and glanced down, feeling weirdly shy all of a sudden. "I just wanted to know, I-I guess."

"Sit up here." He ordered as he patted his thighs, his voice breathless. "Sit." You obliged, straddling him as best as you could with his legs spread so far apart. You ended up with your mound pressed to his stomach, your pussy grinding against his cock with every shaky breath he took. "I'm going to cover your eyes now." Why was he whispering? He raised his hand, tenderly cupping your cheek before he smoothed it down over your eyes.

"I can't take it off for you, right?" You asked. "That's not allowed?"

He murmured, "has to be me." Blind to everything and anything except the overwhelming presence that was him, you closed your eyes behind his palm and waited patiently.

There was the soft chuff of air that you had heard over and over earlier when he was...enjoying you. Then, the quiet slide of his skin against the inner padding.

"Oh-! Dammit." He swore a split-second before there was a loud clatter on the floor. You burst out laughing. "Rude, stowaway. Shouldn't kick a man when he's down." Even through his protests, you could tell he was smiling. "Lost my grip on it."

You raised your hands, blindly feeling along his arms until you reached his shoulders. He still had his pauldrons on, the beskar smooth under your touch. You walked your fingers up the sides of his neck, surprised when you felt thick hair grazing your knuckles at the nape of his neck. "Okay, so maybe you do have hair." You allowed, lacing your fingers through it and tugging gently.

"Were you still--Maker, you're impossible." He huffed, leaning forward. His stubble brushed your ear and you flinched, squealing a little when he tongued over the ticklish skin. "Got you." He exhaled and suddenly it wasn't ticklish anymore. Straight teeth worried the sensitive shell of your ear and you whimpered, unable to keep from twitching at the feeling. "Mm, what's the matter?" The Mandalorian murmured playfully. "You said I didn't have to kiss you on the mouth."

"Yeah, b-but--" You cut yourself off, your fingernails digging into the nape of his neck when he plunged his hot, wet tongue into your ear before mouthing all around the edge. For some reason the sensation had you wound tight, a new wave of slick rising in your core. "Ah-!"

He brought his free hand down to your pussy, carefully spreading your folds with his fingers. "What's the matter?" He crooned in your ear again, tapping his thumb lightly down onto your clit. He then nipped at your earlobe, tongue laving over the skin. "Was there something else you needed? You're dripping the come I pumped into you all over my beskar." He whispered. "Could keep you splayed open like this for hours, just so I could watch your insides twitch and clench down on nothing while you're waiting for more."

"Y-You-" You wished your voice didn't sound so breathy. You couldn't decide which you preferred: his wild stammering when he was out of control, or his unflinchingly honest speech when he could manage himself accordingly. "You're not f-fair--"

"Mm, odds are usually not in my favor." He agreed. He wrapped his soaked fingers around his cock, giving himself a lazy stroke and then rubbing the head against your clit. "You're so fucking...warm," he grunted, his thighs shifting restlessly underneath you. "I want to put my cock back into you. Will you let me fuck you again?" He asked, not giving you enough time to answer before indignantly replying, "What, no? Damn, you drive a hard bargain. What if I offered to...kiss you on the mouth? Would you let me put my cock in you then?"

You found yourself laughing at his teasing, butting your forehead against his own even though his palm was still over your eyes. "You're so dumb." You snickered. "How was I ever scared of you?"

"Because I'm strong and fast." He replied bluntly. "The armor helps."

"Your modesty is your finest quality." You snarked, a soft whimper fighting its way free when he rocked the head of his cock against your entrance again.

"Hmm, I don't remember you begging for my modesty the other night." He taunted you in reply. "If I recall correctly, you got a little...possessive. 'Your Mandalorian', was it?"

You swore under your breath. You got the feeling you would never, ever live that moment of weakness down. But seeing as it had led to this, you could probably endure his lighthearted jabs. "Well, yes. I did say that." You admitted. "Did it make you uncomfortable?"

"Fuck no." His teeth grazed your ear again and you shivered before you could stop yourself. "It was...it was nice to hear you all strung out, fucking yourself to the idea of me." You could feel the curve of his lips, could hear the bastard smiling. "The speaker is right in my ear, so it was like having you next to me." His unmodulated voice was like warm honey, husky, rich and golden. You had never thought that a voice could be so enthralling. "You're moving your hips again, stowaway." His fingers returned to your pussy, spreading you wide once more. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy doing that, if only to make you squirm. "Something you want?"

You reached down and took hold of his cock, smiling at the way his breathing hitched. "This." You splayed a palm on his chest, feeling the thunder of his heartbeat there. "All of this." Your fingers rose from his chest to his mouth, where you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. "And this."

"Yours already. All of it." He sighed, the noise turning into a growl when you angled your hips and eased the head of his cock into your cunt. "All of it. Every inch, every...s-stupid thing out of my mouth, everything."

"I like most of the things that come out of your mouth." You assured him, bracing yourself on his thighs and slowly, slowly lowering your pussy all the way down on his cock. Your pelvis slotted against his with a wet noise and you could feel your arousal trickle out around his cock and down your thighs.

"Hah, you...y-you…" You felt his hand squeeze your face momentarily, and then his mouth collided with your own. You whined and he snarled, that hot tongue seeking your own out after a split-second. He licked into your mouth hungrily like he was starving for a taste of you, only backing off to gasp, "Y-You're so wet-"

You bit down on his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth so you could harass it with your teeth and tongue. The Mandalorian made a strangled noise in his throat as your tongue flicked back and forth over the sensitive flesh before you released him again.

"Can't even th-think straight right now." He admitted, sliding his free hand beneath you to support your back. "Maker, between your fucking mouth and your c--cunt, it's a miracle I'm still--" His words jerked to a halt and you heard him swallow audibly. "Oh. Oh." He gritted out.

You rocked your hips back and forth a little faster, knowing that he could handle a rougher pace. He curved inside you deliciously, the length of him only marginally easier to manage with you in control.

"Wait, wait wait, I'm--fuck, wait, I-"

"What's the matter?" You asked breathlessly. "Too much for you?" You felt his hand grapple fiercely at the small of your back, grinding your pussy down onto his cock. He started rambling in Mando'a, the words ragged as you continued your merciless attack without quarter. This was one fight you were determined to not let him win.

"Cyar'ika," he moaned, his mouth finding your own. "I'm-I'm--f-uck, fuck fuck, I'll fucking--I'll f-ucking split y--split this sweet little c-cunt--" His whole body went taut beneath you, ramming his cock up to meet you over and over. "You take me so...s-so fucking good, so good, so good t' me--" The wet sounds, the heat of his body against your own in his frenzied fucking and the way that his voice cracked combined to be the thing that finally tipped the two of over the edge. As you felt him start to let go, you took one of your hands and fisted it in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, directing him to look down at where your bodies joined.

"I want you t-to watch. Without the helmet." You panted, feeling more than hearing his raspy groan in reply. "So you can remember."

"I'm not going to f--orget, fuck, fuck, like I could e-ever for-g-get this--" The words stumbled out of his mouth, tangled in a dazed little knot, "--ever forget you." His body shuddered and he finally ground to a halt, dragging you against his chest and burying his face in your shoulder as he came with a hoarse shout.

You circled your hips on his still-twitching cock, your own orgasm close behind from how hard he had been pounding up into you. His voice sounded destroyed when he cried out, and you couldn't determine whether he was begging for mercy or more. His free hand fumbled between the two of you to tease one of your nipples; you could do nothing to help the pitiful noise you made when he pinched and tugged at the sensitive bud.

"Come for me. C-Come for me. Come for me." Whether a plea or an order, it was unavoidable. You came for him, the intensity making your skin prickle and your eyes open wide behind his hand. "Yes..." He drew the word out alongside your keening moan of completion, long and slow, praising you in that husky, now almost reverent tone.

You collapsed into him and you felt his mouth curve against your neck, stubbled smile teasing the skin while you fought to regain your breath. His arm reached for something on the floor, and you heard the slide of his helmet after a moment. Then, he removed his palm from your eyes.

The Mandalorian grunted softly and there was a delicate crackling noise beside your ear. "Fuck, that's a cramp." He grimaced, making you huff out a laugh. "Ow, ow. My wrist is...not pleased."

"Mm, should have just taken the chance." You mused, your eyes still closed.

"Chancy enough, getting this naked." He flicked over your nipple, chuckling softly when you whined. "Gods, you are perfect." He murmured. "I'll miss this."

His words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You sat up slowly, staring at his visor. "Why? Wh-Where-?"

"I don't know how sideways all of this will go." He replied simply. "I have a gut feeling."

Your hands fisted in his liner shirt. "So don't go, then."

"You know it's not that simple. If I don't, they'll keep hunting the kid."

"We can hide!" You suggested wildly. "Stay in the Outer Rim, hunker down on Dathomir or Felucia-"

"Until what?" His pragmatism cut you to the quick. "Until the Crest falls apart and we end up stranded in some asteroid field?" You fell silent, your fingers kneading at his chest in a silent plea, don't go. "I'm not doing this. I'm not going to drag you along this time. Whether you agree or not, I'm not involving you."

It felt like he had just stolen all the air out of your body, tears welling up in your eyes as those traitorous arms wrapped around you. His palms were large and warm, rubbing firm circles into the abruptly-cold skin of your back. You were suddenly awash with shame, and you pulled away from his comforting embrace. He made a noise, almost a protest, but you shook it off and struggled to stand.

"Easy, hang on to me. You'll fall over." He offered, his hand already out for you to grab. You ignored it in favor of jerking your panties back up your legs, nearly toppling with the effort. "Hey, you-"

"Don't touch me." You breathed, seconds from bursting into tears. "Just...just don't." You felt disgusting, sore, your body aching and tender from the overstimulation it had just received.

A soft, "oh," was all he gave in reply. His voice sounded defeated and more than anything you wanted to fling yourself back at him, to beg forgiveness and also kill him because how could he do this to you? How could he give everything to you and then take it all away in an instant?

You refused to look at him while you continued to dress yourself, certain that your incredibly fragile resolve would give out if you saw him tilting his head or any of the other little things he did that had wormed their way into your heart. But you were also seized with the fierce desire to wound him like he had wounded you.

And so, as you turned to climb down the ladder you tossed out a flippant, haughty, "This is the Way, right?"

You heard him inhale raggedly. "I--wait, please, just-"

You didn't stay to let him finish, continuing down the ladder.

…

This was technically your own fault, you reminded yourself for the hundredth time. Technically. You could have let him leave the cockpit, but no, you had to grab his hand! Really, you had no one to blame but yourself.

That didn't stop you from feeling like a gross, terrible person, of course, but at least you knew why. You felt stupid for thinking that you could convince him of anything other than what he had already decided upon.

Cara seemed to sense that something was wrong the following morning and she went out of her way to goad the Mandalorian into an arm wrestling match once the Crest departed Arvala-7. It was a bit cramped in the hold, what with the blurrgs and all, so you were a spectator whether you wanted to be or not.

The two of them posted up on top of a crate, their elbows firmly planted after they set their wagers. They slapped hands once and the child's ears perked up curiously.

The former trooper and the bounty hunter locked into their holds as you looked on, a bit invested now. Carasynthia somehow managed to keep the armored man at bay, unless the Mandalorian was going easy on her. Of course, she had been a dropper. Lugging pounds and pounds of gear and artillery must have built strong arms.

"I got you, Mando." She grinned.

"Care to double the bet?" The beskar-wearing man shot back, and you hated that you could tell he was smiling.

The baby looked back and forth between the two grunting adults, and their tiny hand reached out towards Cara. "Looks like the kid is calling dibs on the next round." You commented, chuckling a little. But when you looked up, you saw Cara releasing the Mandalorian's hand to frantically claw at her own throat.

The Mandalorian was only still for a split-second before he bolted upright, lunging to haul the child out of their bassinet. "Stop it!" He berated them sharply. "We're friends, we're friends! Cara is my friend!"

"Hey!" You moved to take the child but the Mandalorian quickly shifted, maneuvering himself between the two of you. "What are you doing? Stop yelling at them!" You protested, yanking on his arm.

"How very curious." Kuiil murmured, rising to his feet and moving to examine the child. The kid was just laying there, limp in the Mandalorian's grasp. Like they knew they had done something wrong.

"I mean, that's one word for it." Cara coughed. "What the hell was that?"

"What it is, I'm not certain. But that story you told me of the mudhorn is making a lot more sense." The Ugnaught mused to the Mandalorian.

"Psh, you would need the kid to help you cheat." Dune tried to joke, her voice rasping a little. "You that scared of losing, Mando?"

"What story? What mudhorn? What even just happened?" You demanded.

"The kid did this...thing once before. I can't really explain it." The Mandalorian answered you curtly. "He just moved his hand and a fucking full-grown mudhorn was three feet off the ground."

"...excuse me, what?" You questioned weakly.

"He also went into a coma sleep afterwards, guess he wore himself out." The Mandalorian shrugged, the kid peering over the side of his arm guiltily. "Maybe...maybe he thought Dune was a threat or something. Thought we were fighting for real."

"You little nugget, you really thought I was screwing with your dad?" Cara asked incredulously, reaching out and rubbing over one of the child's ears. "I tangled with your pops once, remember? He almost died."

"Not how I recall it." The Mandalorian growled, his pride clearly pinched. "We were at a stalemate if anything."

The child whimpered, holding their arms out to you. Despite now being privy to the incredibly frightening knowledge that oh, they can move things with their mind, they can choke a full-grown human out, you could still feel yourself softening. The eyes got you every time.

The Mandalorian, who had been watching you warily, muttered, "you don't have to if you don't--"

"Stop." You interrupted him sharply. "They're not a bomb." He fell silent, passing you the kid without further debate. They settled into your arms, staring up at you while you rocked back and forth. You began to hum their lullaby softly, hoping to get them to sleep at some point during this flight.

"I need your help." You glanced up, disappointment searing in your chest when you realized the Mandalorian was addressing Kuiil. You then proceeded to berate yourself for the hope you had in the first place.

He had made his choice and, in doing so, he had made your choice as well. There was nothing you could do to change his mind. Obviously. The best you could do was return to your mundane existence on Nevarro. Maybe once you were there you could hitch a ride on another freighter, leave the whole planet in the dust and get on with your life.

…

You tucked the baby in for what you knew was the last time, stroking your fingers over their little head.

The Razor Crest sat silent amongst the lava rivers, all illumination and non-essential mechanics off so as not to arouse suspicion or garner unwanted attention. To the best of your knowledge, everyone aside from you was already asleep. The blurrgs had been offloaded and secured outside; you could still hear them shuffling about as they chewed their cud.

The Mandalorian's rendezvous with his contact wasn't until tomorrow, but you didn't exactly feel like trying to explain your departure to everyone in the crisp gray light of a Nevarro morning.

It was better this way. It always was.

You picked up the small pack you had stowed in the bunk, as well as your toolbelt. After one final look at the child, you slowly felt your way towards the door. The lights in the hold were disabled, so all you had to navigate by was the faint orange glow from the distant lava.

You froze when you saw him standing next to the loading ramp, his shoulders rigid and arms crossed over his chest. The void of his visor bored into you, and you found yourself wondering what he was thinking.

After a moment of the two of you standing there in silence, he sighed and tapped a few of the keys on his gauntlet. The loading ramp began to slowly open, segmented plates extending with a hiss of hydraulics. You shifted your weight nervously and opened your mouth but he held up a hand, stopping you before you could even start.

He simply gestured at the ramp, all that beskar for once not making a sound.

You crept forward, wary of him for the first time in a long time. Before you managed to get past him though, he tilted his head. Two fingers pressed against his breastplate, drawing a circle. Then, he tapped his knuckles in the center.

Stay safe.

You wanted to scream.

"Yeah." You managed to choke out instead. Your hand moved of its own accord, running down your leg to your boot where you tugged the vibroblade free and held it out. "Won't need this anymore."

That stupid visor felt like it was staring into your soul. He took the knife back after a moment. He was blatantly, obviously careful not to actually touch your skin, using his index and thumb to gingerly pinch down on the handle.

You gave him an awkward nod and continued out onto the ramp, your boots hitting the obsidian ground with a thud.

You didn't turn around, no matter how much you wanted to.

Part Eight

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #eventual romance #slow burn #oh they fockin #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #please don't hate me #this hurts me a lot

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polaristranslations · 4 years ago

Text

Shinobu Mustard Episode 4

028

"Kanbaru. Do you mind becoming a slave for tonight? Also, lend me your house."

"All right!"

Second slave, secured.

"Oikura. Tonight, become my slave, and cook for me."

"Don't think you'll be able to live until tonight."

Third slave, failed to secure.

The reason for that failure was most likely because I'd been a hurry and said "my slave"... Well, it wasn't like I could tell her to become the slave of a golden-haired, golden-eyed girl.

And because of her connections with Gaen-san, I couldn't exactly get Kanbaru fully involved in this either, so renting her house for one night should be good enough.

As the "citadel" of the king of oddities.

I'd heard yesterday that her grandparents were out on a trip, so Kanbaru could stay over at Higasa-chan's house or even Karen's room in the Araragi house and hold a pajama party there, while I was allowed to do whatever I liked in the meantime.

I knew it made me sound like an outlaw, but it was a decision I couldn't avoid—the only building I could think of in this town that could serve as a vampire's stronghold was Kanbaru's mansion.

Just as the death-prepared, death-inevitable, death-certain vampire, Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster, had once taken up residence in the "Castle of Corpses", the iron-blooded, hot-blooded, cold-blooded vampire, Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, needed a building of suitable pedigree in which to take up residence.

It was fairly Japanese-style for a castle—or rather it was just a Japanese mansion—but hopefully, this being Suicidemaster's first visit to Japan, she wouldn't be able to differentiate between castles and mansions in Japan... Not that I, a Japanese person, could.

"But no, I didn't say that just because I wanted to show off. If Suicidemaster were to learn that her former thrall who she came to visit had been rendered harmless and sealed in the shadow of a pervert—nay, human—she may close herself off entirely. We won't be able to hear a single shred of information. In the worst case, you might even be killed. Would you be fine with that?"

"No, I wouldn't, but..."

"In that case, become my slave again like you were in last year's spring break, and prepare a castle and a banquet. To make my reign more convincing. If you can secure two or three more fake thralls, then that would be great."

The slave sealed in my shadow stuck out her chest in pride and ordered me as such from the child seat.

Erm...

"So basically, you want to greet your old pal with a master-servant relationship in that sort of fashion?"

"Fashion is important in hospitality. I'm pretty strict on fashion. Like a Parisienne."

"No, rather than a Parisienne, you're more like a putting-on-airs-ienne. Respectfully speaking, Shinobu. Wouldn't a petty trick like this just be found out immediately..."

"Oh, you're already getting into it. 'Respectfully speaking', you say? Ka ka, you're an expert at acting like a slave already! Have you done this before? Wait, of course you have! Ka ka, keep it up for the real thing!"

With a loud laugh as if she'd already gotten accustomed to being the master, Shinobu sunk back into the shadows... It almost looked like she was assimilating with the child seat.

What a mess. She'd appeared as if she was going to listen to my concerns, but then she just said whatever she wanted to—however, as soon as I parked my New Beetle in the parking lot, before I went inside, it was then that I called Kanbaru, who'd been in the middle of her morning run, and Oikura, who'd been indulging in her slumber at her lodgings.

Kanbaru had eagerly agreed (it was scary how eager she was, but I decided to call her back and discuss it properly, as well as other things), while Oikura had refused (if I left her alone, she'd probably call me back, so at that point, I'll more or less apologize from the bottom of my heart... and ask for her home cooking separately).

Well, Shinobu putting on airs was the same as always.

I almost wanted to tell her to be more show-offy towards me, but considering the way she was cooperating for this case, I couldn't bluntly refuse that honesty... I had better properly inform Gaen-san about this, too.

Thinking about it, Kanbaru was the "niece of that Gaen-san", but in reverse, Gaen-san was the "aunt of that Kanbaru". What if Gaen-san casually went, "I'll do it, too! Let me be a slave, too!" after I went to her with our plans?... I didn't want to see Gaen-san like that.

What an odd family they were.

On the other hand, even though my parents were ordinary, upright public servants, why had all their children turned out like that?

Speaking of which, the fact that only the members of the girls' basketball team of Naoetsu High were being attacked could be rephrased as "only Kanbaru's juniors were being attacked", so maybe it was a good idea to think about things with her as the focal point.

Even if the gourmet Suicidemaster were only able to dine on "Princess Beauty", Kanbaru Suruga was the daughter (in other words, the direct descendant) of Gaen Tooe, who's practically talked about as if she were a legend—so for the club members that were under her influence, the possibility of them being targeted is...

Although, in that case, maybe Kanbaru herself would be targeted? Actually, it was fairly possible that that was the case—and if so, then using Kanbaru's house as a meeting place wasn't a bad idea, if only to see Suicidemaster's reaction, but Kanbaru herself should probably be kept far away.

That was what ran through my mind as I wandered around the campus of Manase University to kill time, having arrived earlier than expected (it was a fairly expansive university, and I still hadn't seen all of the campus yet. Supposedly, it would take over four years to check out all of the facilities—what was this, the British Museum?), but once it got close to 7:45 am, I knocked on the door to the lecture hall for my international linguistics class.

Although it was called "linguistics", it was different from classes on foreign languages in that it put languages from all over the world, both famous and unknown, on equal footing and compared them in detail. Ultimately, an unproductive course with no destination in sight—there were many incomprehensible courses like this in college.

But I liked that sort of incomprehensible stuff. Could this be Ougi-chan's influence?

It was a liberal arts course unusual for someone in the mathematics department to take, and it was hard to say that the course was particularly popular even taking into account how early in the morning it was, but for Meniko, whose goal was to work with codes in the future, there was no way she couldn't take this course—well, for her, international linguistics probably wasn't even an "incomprehensible course" (in exchange, Meniko was bad with normal foreign language study).

"Hola. Araragi-chan, you're ea~arly. How diligent of you~u."

"I dunno about being called early when you're here in your seat before me. Hola."

Not to mention, I planned on skipping class after this. Unfortunately (or not), today's lecture hadn't been canceled.

It seemed I'd have to borrow Meniko's notes another day—the number of favors I was asking her was increasing. Someday, I'd better do something for her in return.

I bumped fists with Meniko and sat down next to her, and then asked, "Do you mind if I asked you to decipher another code?", showing her the sequence of numbers that I had displayed on my cell phone.

"Hmm. Hmm, hmm?"

A normal person, after being asked to solve codes like these two days in a row, would find it strange and ask for my intentions before even trying, but this was Hamukai Meniko—she couldn't not solve a code that was put before her.

It was a difficult personality, but I liked that about her... It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but neither I nor my proud network of friends from high school were people that moved without some reason or purpose.

Even Hanekawa and Oshino.

And even the violent onmyouji Kagenui-san that was heading towards this town was actually a person of reason—she moved according to her own, unique logic.

As a result, there had been a time when I'd thought that people were just like that, but after becoming friends with Meniko, I came to learn that there were people who weren't like that—I'd been enlightened.

Meniko also seemed to be rather interested in the fact that I was (in a rough estimate) rather logical about things, so I suppose it was a mutual thing.

In order to maintain this relationship, I didn't dare introduce Meniko to any of my other connections, such as Oikura, even by mistake—of course, I had absolutely no intention of breaking off my connection with Oikura, who I had reconnected with after entering university, but as for her... Rather than our connection being broken off, it could be more like she herself would snap.

"A cell phone, huh. Was the code recorded in a cell phone?"

"Yep. Although I don't know if that holds any meaning..."

"That's tru~ue. These days, cell phones are like a part of our brains now, aren't they? Some people criticize the fact that when you go on a trip, you end up looking at the scenery through the small screen of your smartphone, but looking at something with the camera of your smartphone is basically the same as looking at it with your own eyes. Maybe when people complain about train passengers playing with their cell phones, it's a sign that they've failed to pair their phones with themselves?"

I hadn't exactly mastered the use of a cell phone myself, so it was hard for me to wholeheartedly agree, but, well, it wasn't like I didn't understand what she was saying.

"Anyway, this time it's only numbers, huh. Hm. I did solve it, bu~ut."

"Already? You're really the one that's early to things, aren't you. The truth is, I didn't have the slightest idea."

It wasn't like I didn't feel helpless when delegating the whole thing to Meniko, so I'd thought that I'd challenge it on my own in the period of time before I took it to her, but I'd spent most of that time on Shinobu's matter.

"It doesn't seem like putting it on a phone and not on paper really mattered? But numbers are easy to make into a code, aren't the~ey. Languages can vary from region to region, depending on grammar and culture, but numbers are worldwi~ide. No matter where in the universe you are, one plus one is two, and a prime number is a prime number, ri~ight?"

"That's not actually the case. For example, in Nepalese, the representations for '1' and '9' look similar, so when a Japanese person sees them, the math wouldn't add up at a glance. The logic would look completely wrong. Also, it's only in Japan where people use the '正' kanji to count to five, and for someone like me, the little horizontal bar used to distinguish a '7' from a '1' is enough to make me not think of it as a '7'".

"I see. For someone like me, a '7' with a horizontal bar looks kind of like the kanji for seven [七] upside down, so I end up getting those confu~used. So you're above me when it comes to that, huh, Araragi-cha~an."

There wasn't really an above or a below in this exchange, but aah, I wanted to have a conversation like this.

I suddenly realized.

When Shinobu—when Princess Acerola, as "Princess Beauty"—went about destroying countries... When she was a human, did she feel the same way as this when she met a vampire?

Even though it was a relationship of eat or be eaten.

The interpretation that they were vampire and thrall, or master and slave, was at odds with the lighthearted way in which she spoke of her as an "old pal".

She had said that she'd reflected from that time with Shishirui Seishirou, so I'd interpreted it as the master-slave relationship having been reversed, but what if it wasn't that? What if Suicidemaster really was just a "friend" to Shinobu?

Like, for example, Kanbaru and Higasa-chan.

According to Hachikuji, Suicidemaster had called Shinobu a friend as well.

A friend, huh.

There had been a fiercely determined class representative who had declared, "If I can't die for someone, I wouldn't call that person a friend". But what if Shinobu wanted to meet Suicidemaster with that in mind?

Did I have the qualification to stop her?

Talking about qualifications at this point was what made me, me—regret may always come too late, but logic always took precedence. If I ultimately acted upon my emotions, then I would most likely act too late to a disgusting extent.

I should learn a bit from my new friend.

What I wanted was not qualifications, but qualities.

"Hmm. Araragi-chan, what's the matter? Thinking about something?"

"No, I'm trying hard not to think about something. So, what's the answer to the code?"

"Like yesterday, I managed to solve it, but it's a dead-end that isn't really refreshing. Even though I managed to decode it, it just leaves me stressed aga~ain. But it ended up being letters of the alphabet aga~ain."

"Alphabet—then, 'D/V/S'?"

"No~ope. This time, it's 'F/C'."

"F/C"?

029

"If 'F/C' are also initials, I wonder if there's someone from the girls' basketball team who has those initials," said Gaen-san, the human representative of logic, after hearing my report.

We were once again in Naoetsu General Hospital, in yet another hospital room different from the three we'd been in earlier—the hospital room where Kanguu Misago-chan's mummy had been put up.

"I wonder if the message was left on a cell phone to hint at that. Since they had matching straps with their initials."

"Aah... That's right, they did have those," I said.

In that sense, I would've had more hints to decipher it than Meniko did.

It wasn't really a contest, but I did find it a bit frustrating.

"By the way, Kanguu-chan also had a strap. Since she's Kanguu Misago, it was 'M K'."

"Eh? But wait, Gaen-san. Wouldn't that mean that the vampire that we're looking for is actually among the members of the girls' basketball team?"

If, not the dying message, but the living message was indicating a specific member's initials, and Suicidemaster was being falsely accused of a crime, then that would be it.

"F C".

"Not necessarily. It could be that Kanguu-chan, in a hazy state of mind, was just trying to write the name of a friend she thought of. Or it's an act of deception to make us think that way. In other words, diversionary tactics by Suicidemaster."

A vampire trying to blame a human for their vampirism—it seemed a little narrow-minded, almost pitiful at that, and not at all in line with the image of a vampire. Well, if we can consider the possibility that the crime is being pinned on Suicidemaster, why can't we consider the opposite?

Taking it to extremes, it was even possible now that this was a diversionary tactic to make us think that everything was fabricated, like a deduction in a honkaku mystery.

Us people of logic.

"You're right. It would be too unexpected a truth for there to be a vampire among the club members."

"I don't remember explicitly denying that possibility. You can't say for sure that there aren't more oddities like you, Koyomin, that put on an air of innocence and casually attend school, right?"

"Again with the jokes."

And this was a bad joke, at that.

The phrasing of "air of innocence" felt like biting words.

"It's not entirely a joke, though. Well, this is just a brute force through all the possibilities at the moment. Like a canvassing operation done by throwing more people at the problem. It's true that, as a result of last night's events, the suspicion placed on Suicidemaster has faded. 'F C' seems like it would be fairly rare for initials, so I'm sure we'll be able to narrow it down to just a few girls out of the hundred on the basketball team..."

As she spoke, Gaen-san began flipping through the register of names borrowed from Higasa-chan, beginning her check. I'd promised not to make any copies of it, so it was the original document.

"For reference, do you mind if I ask, Koyomin? About how the code was deciphered. It's possible that the method can also provide a hint for us."

"Understood. However, I don't think it'll be very relevant."

"I'd like to hear it anyway. I may not exactly be a sciences person, but it's not like I hate number puzzles. It's a great way to exercise the mind and relax."

Relax?

Putting aside exercising the mind... She didn't really look like it, but was Gaen-san actually stressed right now? With this incident taking longer than expected, Kagenui-san drawing closer to the town with every moment, and my betrayal that must not be forgotten, well, there were plenty of things that could be cause for concern.

Well, if revealing the trick is somehow relaxing, then I'll gladly do so.

It's atonement for my infidelity.

"However, this code ended up not being a number puzzle. It had nothing to do with prime numbers, either—though it's still in the sciences, it was not mathematics, but the field of natural sciences."

"Natural sciences? If we're talking about fields, in middle school, they'd divide the natural sciences into the 'first field' for physics and chemistry, and the 'second field' for biology and geology."

"In that respect, it would be the first field—Celsius and Fahrenheit."

In other words, temperature notation.

Like numbers, temperature was the same throughout the world, or perhaps even throughout the universe, and high temperatures were high, low temperatures were low, and absolute zero was absolute zero—but temperature wasn't notated in the same way everywhere. The units differed.

And that difference was Celsius and Fahrenheit.

"Ah—that's why it's 'F' and 'C'?"

As expected of a logical person, she caught on fast. After speaking, Gaen-san flipped the register shut—it seemed she'd finished checking it all.

She was even fast at reading.

"But how does '820/280/610/160' become Celsius and Fahrenheit? Although, since Celsius is 'C' and Fahrenheit is 'F', perhaps I should ask how it becomes Fahrenheit and Celsius."

"For both Celsius and Fahrenheit, a '°' is placed in the top right direction to denote 'degrees'. In the same place where you would write an exponent."

"Do an explanation like that for a science major. I got it just from you saying 'in the top right direction'—don't go off in a completely different direction, Koyomin. And?"

"We look at the '0' in the code and interpret it as a '°'—basically, the '0' in '820', the '0' in '280', the '0' in '610', and the '0' in '160', all the zeroes at the end of the numbers, should not be taken as numbers but as symbols. Then, '820/280/610/160' becomes '82°/28°/61°/16°'."

"Aha. Highest and lowest temperatures, huh?"

That was exactly it.

The code that had been left behind was showing yesterday's temperature, represented in both Celsius and Fahrenheit—just like the Rosetta Stone, which could be described as the originator of cryptanalysis.

However, the essential letters of the alphabet were missing—"F" and "C".

"That's why, 'F/C' becomes the deciphered text to the code. Oh, but if they're initials, you can't really call that a text. But I see. It's amazing that someone could come up with something like that."

"Yes. Checking the daily high and low temperatures may be natural for an athletic person, but even then, I don't think they would have been able to come up with that in their hazy state of mind."

"No, my intention was to praise your friend, Koyomin."

It would be a bit troublesome if you show too much interest in her.

If you point your finger at her.

This was entirely my own self-interest, but I'd like to settle this case before I needed to ask for help with a third code...

But after relying on Hachikuji and getting Shinobu's cooperation and borrowing Kanbaru's house, I'd strayed pretty far from what I'd originally intended, so maybe next time I'd just give up and go to Ougi-chan for help with the cryptanalysis... Although, that girl likes to be befuddling, so she definitely wouldn't just give me the answer straight up like Meniko.

She was also a person of logic. A mysterious form of logic.

But anyway, let's return to the main subject.

For the sake of protecting Meniko, and for the sake of resolving this case.

"But anyway, how many people in the girls' basketball club have the initials 'F C'? Although we'd probably need to check whether that girl has a strap or not..."

Since the first mummy, Harimaze Kie-chan, didn't have a strap on her phone, it wasn't a given that everyone had a matching strap. Perhaps, within the club, that small level of resistance against peer pressure was allowed.

"There were as much as zero people."

"Eh? What did you say?"

"Sorry, that was a weird way to put it. Zero. There were none, is what I meant. Girls with 'F C' as their initials, that is."

030

"Have you looked for the reverse order? You know, when representing the name of a Japanese person, there's the pattern of 'first/last name' and 'last/first name'."

"Of course. There were none like that, either."

Could Meniko's solution have been wrong?

No, there was no way.

"I wonder if we should expand the range of possibilities. Should we include the third-years that have already retired as candidates?"

"Umm..."

It wasn't impossible to ask Higasa-chan through Kanbaru for a list of the OG members, but I wasn't sure. If we expanded it that far, it felt like the possibilities would be endless.

It didn't seem too productive to force the solution into the initials 'F C' and look for a person that matched, either... Rare as the initials might be, it wasn't like there was nobody with those initials.

"We did figure out that the victims were members of the girls' basketball team using the straps as the hint, but like with 'D/V/S', maybe there's a famous vampire with those initials?"

"The vampires here are from overseas, after all. It's normal to add a middle name... It's unnatural to have initials with just two letters."

"Is that so..."

I'd ended up bothering Meniko with this (though she'd been happy about it) and I'd ended up skipping class (though I probably would have skipped class anyway), but it didn't end up being that much of a hint... Well, even Oshino had said that fieldwork was a cycle of futility.

It was important not to dwell on it.

"By the way, Gaen-san. You don't seem to be in that good of a mood, so is it possible that you received more unpleasant news while I was out?"

"Hm? Did it seem that way to you? I was trying to act calm about it, but this onee-san that knows everything must be losing face to receive your concern, Koyomin. Even though I want to be an onee-san you can always rely on."

"No, no. Gaen-san, you're always an older woman that I can rely on..."

"I'm not trying to be a dependable older woman. No, but anyway, Koyomin. Your worries were right on the mark. The contents of a high school girl's cell phone weren't something we should have looked at."

And the fact that it hasn't produced any good results so far is nearly breaking my heart, said Gaen-san as she laid eyes upon the mummy on the bed—the owner of the cell phone, Kanguu Misago-chan.

Having been made to wear a patient gown and laid to rest on the bed... I didn't want to say I was getting familiar with the sight, but I was getting used to it.

When humans become nothing but skin and bones, it's hard to distinguish between them—their height became ambiguous when laid down, and since they were in a sports club, their hair was fairly short, so it was hard to distinguish them that way, too.

Kanbaru had also had a short haircut when she'd been active... Don't tell me it wasn't just because they were in a sports club, but because they were following after Kanbaru...?

Everyone doing the same thing... Hm?

"Even so, this onee-san won't be surprised any more. Seriously, after being shown the ugly side of human relations, I won't even be scared of vampires."

"Being shown? Gaen-san, you're the one who went and looked at it yourself."

"And I have nothing to say in response to that. They say you're not supposed to check your partner's phone, and that's completely true. If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."

What was in that phone, exactly?

Honestly, if she said it like that, it made me even more curious... However, it probably was better to not ask. For the sake of respecting their privacy, and for the sake of my own health... If Gaen-san ended up like that, I might even end up hospitalized as a result.

And if it wasn't producing any good results, then all the more reason not to.

"Well, I suppose the girls' basketball team is pretty unique. If this sort of thing was commonplace... Well, it's not something I want to think about, as an adult. Their club activities are certainly strange. It felt like they were bullying themselves."

"But aren't all athletic clubs more or less like that? Even more so if you're a powerhouse."

Or rather, a former powerhouse. In the case of Naoetsu High.

Of course, that may have intensified that athletic mindset...

"Mm. I've always had a commander-like nature since I was in high school, but even then, I was still pretty incompatible with those sports-minded people."

"So there was a time when you were a high school girl, Gaen-san."

"It's not like this onee-san was always an onee-san from the moment she was born. Or an older woman."

"That wasn't what I meant... But even so, the hardest person to imagine as a high school girl would probably be Kagenui-san."

She didn't seem like she would be in the liberal arts or the sciences, or in a cultural club or a sports club... What kind of high school girl would she have been?

"That girl was actually a surprisingly diligent student. Although I only knew her as a college student, not a high school student. She's the only one from that trio to graduate without dropping out."

Is that so.

Human beings really couldn't be described one-sidedly, huh.

"Oh nooo. While I carelessly stepped into a colony of high school girls and got my feet stuck in a murky, bottomless swamp, Kagenui will probably arri~ive!"

Even if you lament the word "arri~ive" all cutely like that, that in itself seemed more lamentable.

Please remain a reliable older woman.

"It may be fine for me to think this way, but Gaen-san, aren't you being a little too cautious regarding your junior? She may be a bit uncontrollable, but it's not like she completely ignores the orders you give her, right?"

In the first place, Kagenui-san was coming all the way back from the North Pole because she was called by Gaen-san—plus, if she were truly uncontrollable, she would've ignored any sort of harmless certification and gotten rid of Shinobu and me.

Though she was infinitely violent, that was just a matter of the way she did things, and it should be possible to talk things out—she was a person of logic, too.

"That's right. It's true that, if I explain the circumstances, she might understand the reasoning behind why it's not necessary to exterminate Suicidemaster. It might even be possible to certify her as harmless, with how much of a little girl she's become."

Even while stuck in a bottomless swamp of high school girls, it seemed she'd long since considered the things I'd thought of, with the way she spoke.

"Yes. In fact, as soon as I'd heard that Suicidemaster had broken through Hachikuji-chan's mayoi-ushi barrier, those thoughts had already crossed my mind. It wasn't that Suicidemaster had broken through the barrier with brute force, but simply that she had been weakened to the point that the barrier didn't even react."

"......"

Was that even possible?

It sounded pretty painful and distressing, considering that she was the progenitor who birthed and named the legendary oddity.

"Even in that state, she should still be able to suck the blood of high school girls, so just by being in this town, nothing has changed regarding her being the prime suspect. However, the reason she became a mummy might not be because she was attacked by someone, but because she'd weakened to the point that she entered cryptobiosis by herself."

"In that case, would that mean she was the one to bury herself in the mountain?"

"Yes, it would be safer in the dirt, after all. The cryptobiotic-sleep, hibernation-sleep, dozing-sleep vampire. In that case, perhaps she was attempting to make her way back to Hachikuji-chan who was in charge of immigration control, and collapsed along the way. Well, we're still just brute forcing the possibilities here—the strongest possibility is still that she grew so hungry that she attacked a high school girl, but for now, we can apply the principle of innocent until proven guilty. But the problem is, that won't work on Kagenui."

"...Why is that?"

She sure was stubborn in a weird way.

In a sense, she was pretty laid-back to even put her faith in someone like me, but right now, Gaen-san was being weirdly obstinate in regards to Kagenui-san.

"Well, this is just between us, but they share a bit of a past. The problem at hand, Suicidemaster, and the even bigger problem, Kagenui."

"The problem—and the bigger problem."

"Even if Suicidemaster happened to not be the culprit for this case, and even if it's possible for her to be certified as harmless after not having harmed a human for the past six hundred years—even then, they share a past that makes it impossible to stop Kagenui. Though justice is the only thing that can put that unorthodox onmyouji in check, she's very likely to move out of a personal grudge for this time alone."

G—grudge?

That bundle of justice?

"If I make the wrong move, I may find myself having to excommunicate yet another junior. And I don't want to do that."

031

Kagenui-san's personal grudge probably wasn't something that other people should be prying into, so let's return to the main subject. Although the main subject was a ghost story with intense pressure. But anyway, back to the main subject.

The risk of intruding into her private life had been clearly demonstrated, and Gaen-san, who had hinted at it, didn't dare tell me the details of her past—perhaps she'd let it slip after being embroiled in the high school girls' darkness.

Speaking of being embroiled, it seemed that the reason Gaen-san associated the initials "F C" with the members of the girls' basketball team was not only because of the alphabet strap, but because she'd looked into the darkness of the club displayed on Kanguu Misago-chan's cell phone and had been influenced by it (it seemed she even considered the possibility that, in her dazed state, Kanguu-chan thought she could pin the crime on a team member that she had some friction with). But in the register, there was no one with those initials—and, as long as there was no initial for a middle name included, it likely wasn't the vampire's signature, either.

Before expanding our reach to the OG girls, one more possibility came to my mind.

"What if these aren't initials, but an abbreviation for something in English?"

"Abbreviation? ...In other words, something other than a person's name?"

Normally, Gaen-san would have come up with something in an instant, but at the moment, she'd been caught up in the murky mires of those high school girls... And it could be even more damaging to her as an adult.

I've learned that the private life of others is nothing but poison.

"It probably isn't 'franchise (FC)'—then maybe it's something like 'football club (FC)'?"

It seemed appropriate.

First a basketball club, now a football club.

It also wasn't impossible to interpret it as a franchise of making vampire thralls, forced as it was—but there was no need to twist it that much.

But before we went to Naoetsu High's soccer team, we couldn't forget the other organization in that high school that we should consider.

"'Fan club (FC)'."

"Hm?"

"There was something like that. In the past—well, it wasn't that far in the past—an unofficial fan club for the superstar Kanbaru Suruga."

It was an organization separate from the girls' basketball team, yet was an organization that was strongly influenced by Kanbaru, in a way different from the girls' basketball team.

It was something that came to mind after thinking that all the mummies' hairstyles were the same—let's see, as I recall, that fan club's name was "Kanbaru Soeurs"?

"What's that? Is it something like the Rukawa Kaede Imperial Guard?"

"Exactly. But somehow they ended up getting involved with me and I forced them into disbanding—"

"That's something really scary you're saying as just an introduction, Koyomin. Forced them into disbanding. You really are a delinquent like the rumors say, aren'tcha?"

"I think the remnants of that fan club could be related to this case."

As much as the hypothesis that there was a vampire among the girls' basketball team members was incredible to believe, the possibility that there was a vampire mixed in with Kanbaru Suruga's fan club was just as ridiculous.

But we weren't in a situation where we could afford not to consider ridiculous possibilities just because they were ridiculous.

"That's a fact that this onee-san that knows everything didn't exactly need to know. Ah, yes, but my dear sister had a cheerleading squad like that when she was in high school, too."

"It doesn’t seem like it will have much of a connection, but I suppose I should do something now that I've thought of it. She wasn't a member of the fan club herself, but my little sister is pretty close with that organization, so I'll look into it just a teeny bit."

"Your little sister?"

I looked at Gaen-san's clouded expression.

"My little sister (the bigger one)," I amended.

After hearing that, Gaen-san seemed to relax, smiling.

"You mean Karen-chan. Okay, do as you see fit. But, out of concern—from this old lady's point of view—please don't bring Tsukihi-chan into this. Of course, Koyomin, you were originally the one who said you didn't want to cause trouble for your family, but even discounting the thing with Yozuru, things that go well just don't go well when Tsukihi-chan is involved."

She's talking about you in a pretty amazing way, my little sister (the smaller one).

"And, I apologize for the late report, but Shinobu laid out some conditions for her cooperation in Suicidemaster's interrogation."

I presented an outline of the master-servant reversal to Gaen-san. Even though the plan seemed like it would be laughable regardless of the time, place, or occasion...

"Right, that sounds good."

I received the commander's approval.

Of course, she didn't say anything like "I'll do it, too! Let me be a slave, too!"

"Although, rather than an interrogation, it's practically an undercover operation at this point—but if Suicidemaster mistakenly sees that Shinobu-chan is doing well in this country, then she might end up chattering away without any caution."

Mistakenly. Well, she would certainly be mistaken.

Rather than "doing well", she'd been on the verge of being exterminated, on the verge of being killed, and on the verge of death, and in the end failed to die, turned into a little girl, and then ended up sealed in a teenager's shadow.

At any rate, seeing as I'd gotten the go-ahead to put the plan into action, it was inevitable—I wasn't sure if I could pull off the part of a slave, but I would do what I could.

"In that case, even if it didn't have to do with the fan club, I figure I should have a proper discussion with Kanbaru about this, but is there anything I should be careful about when talking to her? The situation has completely changed from yesterday."

"Something to be careful about... I'd like if you could avoid the storm entirely. I know you might feel a sense of duty, but don't go poking your nose into the murky depths of your juniors."

Her advice was not as a specialist but as a person with more seniority in life, but I wanted Kanbaru, too, to follow these words of Gaen-san, who was called a senior by various people.

Even if I couldn't mention Gaen-san's name.

Even if I doubted that Kanbaru would actually follow them.

"I'll stay at this hospital and do my best with the cell phone analysis while waiting for a report from the search party and preparing for the night."

"I'll meet up with Karen-chan and Kanbaru, and if I have some spare time I'll go drop in on Oikura."

"Putting aside your childhood friend, when it comes to your little sister and Suruga, there's no need to wait up until they come back from school. Koyomin, I think you should go back home at least once for a nap. Though I know all-nighters aren't hard on you thanks to your vampire constitution, you must still be at your limit, right?"

That was true.

Thinking about it, vampires, being nocturnal, did go to sleep in the daytime... Just as Shinobu was doing right now.

The truth was, I'd been working out a plan to drop in on Oikura's place until school let out for the day, but it seemed I'd have to abandon that idea.

Even sleeping was work.

Well, if it was around this time, that mathematics maniac was probably in class, too...

"Ah. I know. I'll split the difference and go to Oikura's place to sleep. I have a spare key, after all."

"Childhood friendships are pretty hard for other people to pry into, huh."

032

I decided to just go to my own home. Of course I needed to catch up on sleep, but I wanted to take a bath, too. Alas, I didn't have any clothes to change into at Oikura's place. I'll do something about that later.

Afterwards, I thought about saying thanks to Ononoki-chan for last night—since I'd left in a hurry, I hadn't been able to talk to her about how she relayed Hachikuji's message to me, or how she called over Gaen-san to the mountain after that.

From Ononoki-chan's point of view, I'd gotten a fortune slip and left all of a sudden, and then decided to go to hell—I probably seemed pretty weird to her... I couldn't bear being thought of as a weird guy by Ononoki-chan.

With both parents working, the first daughter a high schooler, and the second daughter a middle schooler, the Araragi house was generally empty in the daytime—I would be able to speak to Ononoki-chan, who'd infiltrated the house as a stuffed doll, without reservations.

It was one thing to give my thanks, but I figured I may as well tell her that Kagenui-san was approaching this town like a hurricane—for Gaen-san and me, it was an approach that was currently fairly inconvenient, but it could be good news for Ononoki-chan, who idolizes (?) Kagenui-san as an "onee-chan".

Because Ononoki-chan was busy with something else, she wasn't participating in this incident, but it wasn't like she was intentionally left out of the loop, unlike Shinobu until she found out—if the conversation went well, perhaps I'd be able to learn about the past between Suicidemaster and Kagenui-san, which I had failed to ask about, or rather, which I had wanted to hear but didn't want to hear.

Perhaps those ulterior motives led to my ruin, for when I arrived home, it was not just my parents and sisters but also that expressionless, frilly-dressed stuffed doll that was absent.

It seemed that young girl was even busier than public servants and middle school students, though not college students.

Well, I'd like to hear as much as what she had to say, but I didn't think it was a past that I wanted to dig into myself... If anything, maybe what I should be doing is to let the foreshadowing die so that her past doesn't get revealed?

Araragi Koyomi, killing the foreshadowing.

With that, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief, I took a shower and crawled into bed.

It seemed I'd been more tired than I realized (perhaps out of worry, too), so I slept soundly until the afternoon, waking only to the sound of Karen's return—despite her training in martial arts, she was a lot noisier in her movements, so it was easy to hear.

"Yo, Karen-chan. By the way, I wanted to ask about Kanbaru's fan club."

"That's way too direct. I haven't even taken off my shoes yet! At least welcome me back. You gotta have some sort of introduction before starting off the main topic with a 'by the way'. What happened?"

Araragi Karen. 16 years old.

She was super tall. My bigger little sister.

Tsuganoki Private High School first-year. She did not take part in any clubs, and continued to attend a martial arts dojo—something like that.

Also, her hairstyle returned to a ponytail.

"Kanbaru-sensei's fan club? Ah, aah. The one that nii-chan smashed up, huh."

"If I didn't break them up, they would've broken me. Just remembering it now, it's super scary."

The fact that she was still calling her Kanbaru-sensei was pretty considerable, but then again, the way Karen yearned for Kanbaru was... pretty unique.

I couldn't exactly give a thorough explanation of the circumstances, so I simply said, "Have you heard anything about, say, them having resumed activities?" and continued the conversation without explaining my reasons.

"Mmm. No, I don't think they have. When an organization like that comes apart once, it's pretty hard to reorganize."

"Is that so?"

"The crux, Kanbaru-sensei, retired, after all. Fans easily heat up and easily cool down."

I see... I guess it was like that.

Just as Karen said, if Kanbaru had continued to be active, then perhaps the fan club could have been passed down to the next generation, but now that the target of their admiration had retired, it was probably hard to gather new members.

And Kanbaru herself wasn't the kind of person that liked attracting that kind of attention, too—I had to admit I felt a bit elated at the inspiration of reading the deciphered code "F/C" as fan club... But I guess it wasn't that easy.

When comparing the girls' basketball team, of which Kanbaru had been a member, with the fan club, which was unofficial and separate... The quality was certainly different—if it became a fan club full of stoicism that could enforce ironclad laws without the actual person in question, it would be one of the best in Japan.

If only it had been "C/F", then it could at least have been read as "center forward", a basketball position...

Well, whether the culprit was in the girls' basketball team or in the fan club, it didn't change the reality that the vampire might be nonchalantly attending Naoetsu High—if that was even possible.

Of course, even though Gaen-san had been trying to implicate me, there were quite a few students that had gotten entangled with oddities, like Senjougahara Hitagi, Hanekawa Tsubasa, Kanbaru Suruga, or Oshino Ougi.

Well, a high school girl being a vampire did make for a prettier picture than a high school boy being a vampire—oh yeah.

"Karen-chan. You're a high school girl now, right?"

"What's with that, all of a sudden? But, that's right. I've become able to get married."

"That's not because you're a high school girl, it's because you've turned 16 years old. If anything, you've gotten harder to marry. Especially for me."

"Nii-chan, for you I'm the most difficult person in the world to marry. I'm your little sister!"

"How does it feel to be a high school girl? Is everything going well with your new friends?"

Regrettably, I pretended to be an overprotective older brother and started a survey to try and collect some live opinions—could even Karen be mired in the murky depths that had been a downer for the easygoing Gaen-san?

"I dunno what sort of school life you mean by 'going well', but this new world is pretty fun. I almost want to go to school on the weekends, too."

That's pretty insane.

But that's true, it's not like all high school girls have a dark side to them. There are individual differences, and it depends on the environment and the situation.

To put it in a good way, Karen's personality was endlessly bright, and to put it in a bad way, she was endlessly idiotic, but that wasn't just it—when surrounded by a stiff atmosphere, even the brightest idiot would lose some of that excitement. However, Karen was a follower of Kanbaru—

"—Oh yeah. Can I ask one more thing, Karen-chan?"

"What is it now? Today, it's all questions and no groping my boobs, huh."

"Don't talk like groping your boobs is a regular occurrence. I'm not going to touch them. This year."

"It was a problem when you've been touching them for the last year. Touching a girl's boobs like you were kneading clay. And? What's the question you were gonna ask?"

"You know the Fire Sisters, that you and Tsukihi-chan were a part of? You guys disbanded after you graduated, right? What happened after that?"

"Whaddya mean what happened. I told you, didn't I? Now, Tsukihi-chan's working hard on her own as Moon Fire."

I may have heard that before, but regrettably, the information she had on her sister was a bit vague.

Not that I could speak for others, considering I was the same way when it came to that sister.

What I wanted to ask was how the community of Tsuganoki 2nd Middle School changed after Karen, the mainstay and core of the school, left, like with the girls' basketball team—wasn't there anything like a war to be the replacement for Tsukihi's partner, or any sort of factional strife?

"Oh, for that, Tsukihi-chan, as the staff officer, handled it pretty well. For better or worse, Tsukihi-chan thinks she's so special that she doesn't expect anyone else, including me, to be able to imitate her."

I see. I'd been worried about my youngest sister's (excessive) self-consciousness, but that was an insight.

As is often the case with hard-working superstars, Kanbaru's self-esteem was quite low, and she had a tendency to believe that "anyone can do what I can do if they work hard enough"—that was something I could appreciate from a human perspective. However, if someone that was charismatic on a national level said such empty words as "if you work hard, your dreams will come true", then it would lead to a generation of people that actually buy into it.

Even though it wasn't Kanbaru's fault, the current state of the girls' basketball team was probably a climate formed by such a belief in hard work.

If I had to say it, when Kanbaru retired from the club because of her left arm, she should've picked a proper successor instead of leaving everything to Higasa-chan—though it was useless to say that now.

"Tsukihi-chan is basically a 'wasted effort is wasted' kind of girl. She'll say stuff like, 'Instead of hard work, just do what needs to be done!' 'If you put in wasted effort, you'll get even farther away from your dreams!'"

"I can't say that leaves a good impression..."

"She'd always insist, 'Find a way to make yourself a lucky boy or Cinderella girl!'"

"Tsukihi-chan probably shouldn't publish any business books. Speaking of which, it worries me that Tsukihi-chan, a middle school student, is coming home later than you, a high school student. Rub rub. What in the world is Moon Fire up to now that she's gone independent?"

"I dunno either. Rather than being independent, Tsukihi-chan's always been a dependent person with an independent spirit. Nii-chan, what were those rubbing sound effects you tried to mix in for the first time this year, without even trying to get them lost in the confusion? And I've heard rumors that you were helping out a magical girl, but how much of that is true?"

"Hmm."

Especially with Kagenui-san's return, I wanted Tsukihi to stay quiet, but she wasn't exactly the kind of sister that listened to her brother.

If I'd been able to talk with Ononoki-chan, I could've asked for her to do something about that... Rather than worry, it made me a little anxious.

Being a big brother was a lifetime job.

"Then, Karen-chan. I'm going to leave the house now, and I don't think I'll be coming back today, so in the meantime, watch over Tsukihi-chan carefully, all right?"

"You mean, today also, right? College students shouldn't be so flashy with their playing around at night. Your new life is an important time for you, too, nii-chan. I don't want to see you get burned like you did when you became a high schooler."

"Those are useful words. Worthy of engraving onto a chest."

"Don't engrave them on my chest!"

033

My fearless (of even a god) strategy to get Hachikuji to sit in the child seat ended in failure.

In transporting the ancient vampire from the Kitashirahebi Shrine to Kanbaru's house while waiting for her awakening (sunset), I'd proposed the formation of putting Hachikuji in the passenger seat and Suicidemaster in the back seat, but considering the size of the target of transportation, I was defeated by the logic that it would be legally safer to secure Suicidemaster, a six-year-old girl, in the child seat.

Well, considering that, in terms of outward appearance, Hachikuji was fixed in the form of a ten-year-old in fifth grade, it was already kind of impossible to fit her in a child seat—and Hachikuji was fairly grown for a ten-year-old. Over the past year, I'd directly felt her measurements with my own hands, so this was for certain. Of course, if the child seat itself were to break, it would be the end of everything.

It was a child seat I hoped to use for many years to come.

However, I'd been worried that Suicidemaster would suddenly go berserk in the middle of the day after being taken out of the shrine and lowered from the sacred mountain, so I consulted with Gaen-san on the phone and ended up applying further seals before securing her in the child seat.

The seals that Hachikuji applied as instructed by Gaen-san were, in simple terms, a blindfold and shackles on her arms and legs, but the image of a blindfolded, shackled little girl in white clothes fastened to a child seat honestly did not make me feel the slightest bit of safety in the legal sense.

If I were to go through police questioning, it wouldn't just end with my license being revoked.

My life would be revoked. Societally.

"A~ah. It was fairly controversial for Araragi-san, who loved his bicycle, to start riding around in a car, but I have to admit that the mobility of a car is certainly different. You can go all over the place, in every direction!"

Hachikuji herself seemed rather happy-go-lucky from the back seat—incidentally, she was in outing mode, which meant she'd changed from her white clothing to her clothes for an outing through the town, with her rucksack on her back.

She was sitting backwards, looking out the rear window, and flapping her legs—was it like a field trip for her?

"Hachikuji. Did your daytime stroll have any results? If you went around looking but couldn't find it, then that would mean the fifth mummy has yet to be made—maybe?"

"I'm not sure. If my godly eyes were able to reach every corner of this town without any problems, you could say this incident would not have happened in the first place. Although it's not that I regret allowing Suicidemaster-san to pass through without security."

"Well, sure."

From Hachikuji's point of view, she might even be a lifesaver—upon Suicidemaster-chan's arrival in Japan, it wouldn't have been odd if she had trampled Hachikuji underfoot, mountain and all.

Even though she was a god, our Hachiku-jin wasn't all-powerful—even in her weakened state, it could be possible for Suicidemaster to defeat even an athletic high school girl in a single blow.

"Hachiku-jin? Please stop. Don't give me a weird nickname. It seems your respect for gods is lacking, you know?"

Hachikuji did a half-turn and took her seat in the normal position.

"I knew that, with the case of Shishirui Seishirou-san, Shinobu-san had messed up twice, after all. I hoped that this could be an opportunity to wipe away that irreversible trauma—although, it would be a lie to say that I wasn't worried about letting Suicidemaster-san meet Shinobu-san, who was currently practically enslaved by a human."

That's why I'm all for the master-servant reversal, said Hachikuji.

"Although, I think it would be better to be honest about it afterwards. It would be sad to lose a friendship because of vanity. When I was alive, there was a boy in my class that I was close to, but because I'd been too vain—"

"Let's save that story for another time, Hachikuji. When Gaen-san called earlier and taught us about the sealing methods, I tried probing a bit, but it doesn't seem like they've found the fifth mummy yet."

"You seem way too uninterested in my flashback scene, Araragi-san."

"The analysis of the cell phone is still in progress, but it doesn't seem like there's any traces of her having made a call or sent a text or used an app since Kanguu-chan went missing, so it's hard to pin down the time of the crime. In other words, we still don't have proof of Suicidemaster's alibi."

I glanced at the little girl in the passenger seat.

The golden-haired little girl fixed in the child seat, in white clothing, blindfolded, arms and legs shackled.

"Is that so? Well, my credibility is at stake, too. I'll cooperate to the full extent of my power. Is it fine if I pretend to be a slave, too? Uhehehe."

"You sound less like a vampire's slave and more like a slave to money. Mm, I've thought about it, but..."

"So you've thought about it? Turning Hachikuji Mayoi into a slave?"

"But ultimately, a vampire's slave should be at least a little vampiric, or the lie will be found out. If it were Ononoki-chan, I may have just barely asked her to, but she's on bad terms with Shinobu. Plus, she's away at the moment, so it seems I'll have to be the only slave. If anything, Hachikuji, you can act as the local deity and be a guarantor for the relationship between Shinobu and me."

Not a bondsman, but a bondsgod.

It seemed rather apt.

Just as we were about to arrive at Kanbaru's house, the cell phone that I had left in the cup holder between the driver and passenger seats buzzed. This time, a call from Gaen-san—had the fifth mummy, Kiseki-chan's mummy, finally been discovered?

I felt slightly nervous, but I was driving, after all, so there was no way I could be the one to pick it up.

I'll leave it to my secretary.

"Who are you calling your secretary? Yes, hello? This is Hachikuji."

Seems like you've taken a liking to it.

"Araragi is currently driving. Yes. Yes. —Yes, I see. Understood. I'll let him know."

Finishing up the short phone call, Hachikuji returned the cell phone to its original position.

"What was it. Did we make any progress?"

"Rather than progress, it's more like we've fallen backwards."

That was Hachikuji's response.

"Putting aside the 'F C' initials, it seems they've completed their brute-force investigation of the remaining members of the girls' basketball team who were on the register, but everyone has been confirmed to be safe."

Everyone was confirmed to be safe?

"Isn't that a good thing? It's the first good news we've heard in a while. What's so backward about good news that's really worth celebrating?"

"The fact that they're safe means that they're also innocent—the results of the investigation made it clear that there is no vampire among the remaining members of the basketball team."

Back to square one.

034

The girls' basketball team members were cleared of suspicion, the fan club was also cleared of suspicion, and there were no signs of another vampire that could be associated with "F/C".

With this, Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster wasn't just the prime suspect, she was the only suspect—the only reason that could lead me to believe that she was innocent would be Shinobu's testimony that "Suicidemaster, whose diet is unbalanced to the point of refusing food, would never suck the blood of an immature high school girl".

Tonight's interrogation was becoming increasingly important—it wasn't an exaggeration to say that everything depended on my ability to act as a slave.

I never thought that I would get the opportunity to become a slave to a little girl and deceive another little girl, but I guess I never really know where life will go.

There were many things that made me think that my high school years were the peak of my life, but as I lived on, there were many more interesting things occurring.

And with that, a greeting to my sponsor, Kanbaru.

The sealed little girl and the deified girl had been left in the New Beetle parked in the parking lot of Kanbaru's home—of course, I'd made sure the air conditioner was left on. It certainly wouldn't do if I left two children in a car and came back to find that they'd been mummified.

"Hiya, Araragi-senpai. We only just saw each other yesterday, but it feels like it's been so long ago."

"It hasn't been that long!"

"Yes, now here, the key to the house. Use it however you like."

I figured it was impossible for an ordinary person to imitate this sort of openness—if you tried too hard to act simple, you'd crumble under the stress.

However, they say a person is only as unhappy as the number of keys they have... I wonder how many keys I will have in my lifetime.

"Tonight, we decided to hold a pajama party at Higasa's place. If you've made any progress with the matter from yesterday, I can pass it onto her."

It wasn't progress, but falling backwards.

But it was a bit hard to say that.

However, I couldn't turn back now, and I was committed to it—I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't know anything about the girls' basketball team now.

Regardless of the outcome of this case, I should work together with Kanbaru and Higasa to come up with a plan to reform, or perhaps break down, the current situation. Without going against Gaen-san. She'd called it a pajama party, but it seemed it was actually a gathering of the OGs of the girls' basketball team to brainstorm about the current situation of the younger team members...

This had nothing to do with Karen's remarks, but as a former near-dropout of that high school, I couldn't just leave behind the students that seemed like they would drop out. Even if it was odd to speak of me, who nearly dropped out on my own, and the club members, who were about to drop out because of their stranglehold from club activities, in the same breath.

"Oh yeah, Kanbaru. When you ended up reuniting with Hitagi-san, the senior that you yearned for, at Naoetsu High, what kind of airs did you put on?"

"Airs? What do you mean by that?"

Of course.

Even if the person she was talking to was a senior she admired, she wasn't the type to pretend to be something that she wasn't—she was the type of person to charge in just as she was. If anything, it was maybe Hitagi-san that was likely to put on airs at the time.

Or display her stubbornness.

As a result, it would end up taking over a year before Senjougahara Hitagi and Kanbaru Suruga, the Valhalla Combination, would reunite.

"Huh. You're talking as if you're looking for wisdom in regards to Shinobu-chan reuniting with an old acquaintance!"

"I didn't talk like that!"

I didn't even bring up Shinobu's name!

She certainly was Gaen-san's niece, and I couldn't let down my guard—if I let something slip, this capable junior might decide to get involved all on her own.

She might decide to pretend to be a slave all on her own.

As someone who felt badly about the fact that I'd gotten her involved in the case of Shishirui Seishirou because of my own personal circumstances, this was a situation I wanted to avoid.

I needed to make up some reason to change the subject and get rid of her as soon as possible.

"Oh yeah, Kanbaru."

"Araragi-senpai, you sure come up with things frequently, don't you. What is it?"

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask of you—"

035

Though we'd settled on Kanbaru's place for our choice of location, it would be effectively impossible to clean up my junior's disastrously messy room before sunset, and, even if she'd told me to use the house however I liked, it certainly wouldn't do to infringe upon the territory of her grandfather and grandmother, so we ultimately decided upon using the Japanese mansion's garden for the revival of Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster.

Much like at Ryōan-ji, it was a Japanese rock garden.

Well, even if it was a measure of desperation, the mansion gave off much more of a castle-like impression when viewed from outside rather than being inside.

Yesterday, it had felt like I'd greeted nightfall feeling like I'd run out of time without doing everything I had to do, but today, it felt like I'd done everything I could and was greeting the night having run out of material. Now, I wonder what will happen?

"Thanks for waiting. So, shall we begin?"

At the moment the sun had set about halfway, Gaen-san appeared with a one shou bottle—the ones to welcome her were me; Shinobu, who had woken up early and crawled out of my shadow; Hachiku-jin, our witness; and Suicidemaster, who had been laid down—it seemed a little too pitiful to lay a restrained little girl on the bare ground, so I'd put down a rush mat (I'd found the rush mat in Kanbaru's room—why did she have something like that?).

All the actors were in place.

The show must go on.

"I've set up a barrier going all the way around the mansion, so if by some chance a battle breaks out, we'll be fine."

"That 'some chance' is what I'd like to avoid... But, Gaen-san. What's with that bottle?"

"Well, I am a specialist, after all. Wine would be better for vampires, but I figured we could do this the Japanese way, with sacred sake for a demon."

I guess I couldn't rely on crosses and holy water in a Japanese mansion with a shrine's god present... Her behavior was as if she'd come to a late-night drinking party, but in this Japanese mansion it held an air of sophistication.

"You should've come in full dress, then."

"Did you want to see me in shrine maiden's clothes, Koyomin? Unfortunately, I don't respect formalities and ceremonies as much as Meme does. I may be a pacifist, but at the same time, I'm a rationalist."

Indeed, now that I thought about it, that careless-seeming middle-aged Hawaiian shirt guy was surprisingly pretty picky about arrangements and whatnot to the point of irrationality... And looking closely, Gaen-san's bottle was just a bottle of cheap sake from a discount store... It was a bit difficult to call that sacred sake.

I guess it's the Gaen way to push through what's difficult.

"Goodness, I never thought I'd be visiting the Kanbaru house that rejected my dear sister like this—the wheel of fate sure turns."

As she spoke in an amused manner, Gaen-san casually turned over the one shou bottle and poured it over the body of the little girl.

Rather than occult ceremony, if anything, it seemed more like the "magic kettle" thing they did in rugby clubs.

Good, judging from that composed demeanor of hers, it seemed Gaen-san had managed to safely get through the murky swamp of the high school girls.

"Ooh. White clothing getting wet and sticking to a little girl's body... Kind of erotic, don't you think?"

Hachikuji made a vulgar remark, unbecoming of a god—for the record, though I hadn't touched upon it (double meaning) out of kindness, when you were meditating under a waterfall for a joke yesterday, you looked the same way, y'know?

Putting that aside.

"By the way, Shinobu-sama."

"...... Hm? Ah, you mean me, my master?"

She wasn't getting into her role at all.

Her servile disposition was so deeply ingrained in her.

"I mean, my servant. What is it?"

"Even if you catch it right away... Well, it's fine. Listen, Shinobu-sama. My master. Would you allow me the honor of inquiring something of you?"

"If you bring that quality of acting to the real thing, it'll be your fault if we get found out, my mast... my servant."

I think it would be both our faults.

But since we didn't have time, I continued instead of retorting.

"I haven't really thought too deeply about this until now, but... What's it like, living for six hundred years?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, if I may be permitted to speak for myself, I believe I have undergone quite a few changes, just looking back over the past year."

"Speak normally. I can't tell what you're saying at all."

Right.

I didn't even know what I was saying at all.

"In the course of our lives, we change our opinions, change our minds, realize our mistakes, and learn right from wrong, right? I won't make friends, because my strength as a human would decrease—when I used to say that, I really believed it, and I don't think I could have believed back then that I would have normal friends in college."

And that was in just a single year.

If that had been six hundred years—I'd ended up suddenly wondering how I would feel when I looked back on the past.

"I can't tell what you're saying at all, even when you're talking normally—after all, I've been quick to cast away the past that I can't remember."

Was it because she couldn't remember, or because she didn't want to remember? She probably didn't even remember that.

Well, it's fine. I just wanted something to say at the last minute—not even I, speaking normally, could tell what I was saying at all.

Just because they were meeting again after six hundred years, didn't mean they had to make the same decisions they made six hundred years ago—is that what I wanted to say? However—if I ran into Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade on the verge of death in an alleyway again, what if I would offer up my neck again, just like I had done a year ago?

"In the first place, before oddities are immortal, they're unchanging, universal. They don't change so frequently, like humans do."

"Then, let me ask you the same thing I did in that spring break. Shinobu, to you..."

To you, what are humans?

When Oshino Shinobu had not been Oshino Shinobu, when she had been the vampire, Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, she had responded immediately.

She'd responded—"food".

But for Shinobu now, that was incorrect.

Even under the premise that she was sealed—but when you took that out, it was still incorrect.

However, what she would respond was another matter entirely—and it was as if Shinobu had been caught off guard, because for a moment, she fell silent. But, as if aiming for that moment...

"O devourer, o imbiber, o lurker! Now that the holy sun has set, tear open the coffin and rise! Boil the flesh in blood, and stir it with the bones!"

Gaen-san started chanting something like a magic spell that had taken the world by storm a few decades ago—it seemed like a joke, but it was for real, right?

"Come together with the night! Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster!"

It seemed like the sort of hackneyed incantation that I would've been convinced if she'd said, "Just kidding," but in that instant, the little girl soaked in cheap sake began to glow gold—or so it seemed.

But it was just my imagination, and my misunderstanding.

In actuality, the girl who had been sleeping as if she were dead had suddenly opened her eyes—the blindfold flew open, revealing two eyes as golden as her hair, and it had felt to me as if they were glowing.

Miss Suicidemaster's facial features, who had previously appeared as expressionless as Ononoki-chan's, became clearer as she awoke—though they had the same golden hair and golden eyes, she gave off a different impression from Shinobu.

The sake that had been sprinkled over her evaporated in an instant—not only the shackles on her arms and legs, but even the sash of her white clothing flew off, just like her blindfold.

Had Gaen-san broken the seal, or had the little girl herself broken it? It wasn't clear from afar—but if anything, my impressions were more towards the latter, and I couldn't help but think, "What part of her is weakened?"

I was just beginning to regret my thoughtless act of treatment, which made me recall my actions last spring break, and was wondering if it would have been better to leave her as a mummy, but then...

Creak!

The little girl's face turned towards me.

Lying on her side, only her head turned to look towards me—no.

Not me. Those golden eyes had fixed their gaze upon the one standing on my shadow, the other little girl in this garden—within moments of waking up, the ancient vampire had sensed her former thrall.

And then.

"Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

She said—sprawled out on the ground, from the lowest position imaginable, her laugh rang out louder than I could have imagined.

And in response to that loud laugh, Shinobu, who had borne vivid witness to her former "master"'s revival—

"Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

She—laughed in return.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

If it weren't for the barrier, their loud exchange laughter would surely have disturbed the neighbors—it was like microphone feedback. How long had it gone for?

Six hundred years. A thousand years.

Did it go on for eternity?

It was quite the uproarious bout of laughter, as if Gaen-san and Hachikuji and I weren't even there in that garden, but it was finally brought to an end.

"Somehow or other, it seems I've died again."

That was the remark from the little girl on her back.

And, hearing that, Shinobu shrugged her shoulders.

"It seems we've both grown old," she said.

The two little girls had reunited for the first time in six hundred years.

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