#so i just kind of went ah neat & looped it for a while

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i have a new theory for aru sekai fans & by new i mean someone else might have caught on already but i havent seen it said SO. the rute furutewoa melody is in kyuuyaku, touhikou, & now kannagi (maybe elsewhere bc i havent been looking for this motif before i only realized it today really & i havent had time to go thru all the songs again yet) & we have kyuu (past), something in touhikou im too tired to remember currently but i remember calling something similar a while ago when someone asked if there was a timeline to this, and now kannagi that uses the older language so im willing to bet this motif is a way of saying the events in the song happened in the "past". whether thats actually Long Ago or just to say its not the current situation or just happened before the songs without it i cant say for sure but i think it makes sense given what we have now.

just like we have the nami no ne no motif that signals which characters still have their "self" if its in the song or lost it if its not.

i have to do some more digging of course but with what i know right now this makes the most sense to me

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (2)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

... PREV / NEXT

...

Life in his hospital bed passes slowly while he waits for his chakra to replenish. Always a sluggish process for Kakashi. With nothing to do, nowhere to go and a significant lack of motivation to find either, there is a lot of time to think. Too much time. With what was shaping up to be the fourth great shinobi war, there was no time for reflection or resting. To suddenly have this much downtime thrust upon him is throwing him through a loop. And he doesn’t even have his periodic trips to the memorial as a distraction. If only Sakura could see him now, resting and recuperating like a good injured shinobi.

Doctor Wada, the ever-attentive physician, returns a few more times to ask more questions and offer more reassurances. He seems set on his theory that Kakashi’s yet to be properly identified quirk was the cause of his memory problems. Kakashi runs through a sweet of memory and vision tests. A baseline for later testing when his eye is healed he is told.

“The police have a few questions regarding your situation. With your permission, they would like to conduct an interview,” says Wada on Kakashi’s third day of being officially awake, “Of course, as your doctor, I have the final say in the matter so if you would rather wait just say the word.”

Kakashi gives another bland smile, “Ah, you are too kind.” Police…as in, an authority the dealt with civilian conflict? “I think I’ll answer their questions. Wouldn’t want to stall an investigation.”

He had been wondering when or if he would be investigated. How similar would it be to Kohoha’s internal police force?

“Humph. If you think you’re ready for it.”

He maintains his smile. It was as good an opportunity as any to continue gathering information with the bonus of breaking up the monotony of waiting in a hospital bed for his injuries to heal. Doctor Wada spends the rest of the check-up muttering about pushy police officers and how underappreciated his medical opinion was.

..

The two men that come to question him are wearing matching uniforms which are very telling of the sort of organisation they belong to. White and dark blue. Not made to camouflage or reinforce. Restrictive seaming around the arms, preventing any extreme movement. Their shoes are sturdy but inflexible with heavy soles. Manurable but not designed for any excessive combat. Not a uniform you would give a force intended to physically subdue threats. Whereas Konoha’s police force was comprised mainly of genin and chunin, these men were closer to civilians in pure physical ability. Ah, but he is beginning to suspect that this was the norm here. The people here were softer in a way that was hard to define. 

Kakashi watches them approach, seated upright in his bed, hands resting loose in his lap, aiming it create an impression harmlessness. One good thing to have come from agreeing to this interview was getting his own private hospital room. Now there was no one around to raise an alarm if something went wrong and he was forced to act.

“Good morning,” The older one of the two starts, politely dipping his head, “Kakashi was it?”

“Hmm,” he smiles, “Morning.” There is a pause like they are waiting for him to give his last name. He doesn’t.  

“Well,” The man clears his throat, “I am officer Takata Toyokazu, currently in charge of investigating the circumstances surrounding the assault on your person.” An ID card, very similar to Konoha’s own ID cards is presented, “This is my partner. We’re from Hosu’s Central Police and we have a few questions if you don’t mind answering them for us.”

“Ah,” Kakashi eyes the ID, lamenting the fact that his sharingan is covered under a swatch of bandages and thus inaccessible without obvious movement, “I am afraid my memory just isn’t all there. Apologies in advance if my responses are lacking.”

He lets a little humour leak into his tone. It was time to do a little prodding and gauged how this place's ‘police’ conducted their investigations.

“Yes. We were informed about your memory problems.” The two share an obvious glance and there is a definite note of scepticism there. “Nevertheless, any information would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”  He easily agrees, shrugging, projecting an air of casual nonchalance.

Takata blinks “Right,” and Kakashi can practically see his brain stalling, “Well, you were found on the corner of First and Eleventh street in Hosu’s Central Business District. Would you say this is accurate?”

Kakashi thinks for an exaggerated moment, “I do remember a lot of people. I think someone called for help?”

“You were picked up in an ambulance yes. Do you remember what happened before that?”

“Hmm, I was attacked…there were a lot of trees.” He nods like he has just delivered a useful bit of intel.

“Trees?” Is the deadpan response.

“You know…tall plants with leaves and a….”

“We know what trees are. So, you were in a place with a lot of trees before you were in Hosu’s business district.”

“Probably.”

“A park maybe? There are a few around Hosu. Do remember anything else. Distinctive landmarks?”

“Ah,” he waits for a beat, “No.”

Kakashi is the subject of a disbelieving squint. “No names. Streets. Nearby locations?”

“Nope. All gone.” He says cheerfully and Takata’s brow twitches into an irritated frown.

“You were admitted with multiple stab wounds. Do you remember how you got them?”

He shrugs, “A knife probably.”

“Well, do you remember anything about who was holding the knife?”

“OH!” The two men startle at this sudden exclamation, “It was a man.”

There are a few seconds of silence. “What did the man look like?”

“I don’t remember that bit.”

This time he gets a very obvious frown. Apparently, realising that the current line of questioning is getting them nowhere, the officer motions to his partner and is handed a large envelope. After some shuffling around, a paper file is produced and flipped upright in Kakashi’s direction. It is a photograph of kunai, shuriken, senbon, razor wire and assortment of other weaponry he carried around on his person. He had wondered what the hospital had done with his stuff.

“These are the weapons found on your person when you were admitted to hospital. All confiscated. It’s illegal to carry these sorts of thrown weapons and knives in Japan.”

He scans the photo with interest. The image has his weaponry all laid out in neat lines.

“Really?” He is not even faking his curiosity this time. No one carried around any weapons at all? That wasn’t just a trend limited to the hospital? 

“Yes.” Comes the short response, “what were you using them for.”

“Oh, I don’t remember,” he says gleefully, “How scary.” And gets another round of scowls. After doggedly refusing to give more than vague answers and misdirection, the two increasingly frustrated men prepare to leave.

“If you do remember anything, please call.” A small paper card displaying a string of numbers is presented to him. “You’ll have to come down to the station and give an official statement once the hospital clears you as well so don’t forget. We’ll  get in contact if any arrests are made regarding the perpetrator.”

Kakashi knows enough about investigations to recognise that one, the two standing next to his bed were searching for some specific information and had found Kakashi’s responses lacking, and two, they had no idea who Kakashi was and knew even less about how he might have gotten here.

In the end, they just leave. No threats. No mind games. No attempts to arrest or move him to a secure location for further questioning. Nothing. Kakashi follows after the pair, pausing behind his door to listen to the two talk just outside his room. Officer Takata is obviously angry going of his slightly uneven breathing.

“That was a waste of time,” he grumbles.

“Do you think he was lying?”

“Oh, that smiley bastard definitely knows something more than he is letting on. Tch. Memory problems my ass…”

The is a pause before the younger man asks, “still think it’s connected to that Hero Killer sighting from a few days ago?”

“If he is telling the truth then no. The stabbing lines up with the Hero Killer’s MO but the target is all wrong. There is no Kakaski with a ‘sharingan’ quirk listed on the Registry or as any Hero, Sidekick or Hero agency employee. If he did have a run-in with the Hero Killer, it wasn’t targeted. Probably annoyed the guy into stabbing him if anything.”

There is the sound of footsteps as the two men begin to retreat down the hall.

“A dead-end then.”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“What a shame. I thought for sure, what with the extent of the injuries, that this was a Hero Killer case. Perhaps it was another Villain? Or a vigilante maybe?”

“Who though? Hosu doesn’t have any active Vigilantes or big-name Villains. Not ones who go around stabbing people to that extent. You saw the hospital report. The man was seconds away from bleeding out and that head wound was obviously aimed at disabling his quirk.”

“Tch. Without any leads, we have nothing to go on. And if Kakashi is a Villain or criminal himself, there’s no evidence and nothing we can pin him with other than a fine for carrying banned weaponry.”

The voices grow fainter as the two walk further away from his room. They seemed suspicious but not overly concerned with Kakashi’s lies so it is not a huge surprise that nothing came of the interview. Despite their obvious irritation, their response had been ones of mild annoyance and moderate distrust. If either of them had had a kekkei genkai it hadn’t been used. Perhaps, their abilities weren’t suited to interrogation. Kakashi had been obtuse enough that surely, they would have been tempted if it were a possibility. It does conform to a general trend in which people underestimate his threat level, treating him  like a civilian. It was probably for the best.

Kakashi returns to his bed and stares at the paper card with the numbers. Obviously, they expected him to know what to do with it. Something to do with communication. Probably related to the small plastic devices nearly everyone in the building carried and spoke into on occasion. A radio of some sort. He had seen a few with numbers running across them. 

From the exchange, he has a few more points to consider and mull over. Villain. Hero. Vigilante. He knows these terms, has heard people in his ward mention them before and knows they are important in some way.

…

Having a new room meant he needed to relearn everyone’s schedules.  While doing so, he finally pinpoints why the people here feel so off. They lacked a level of…weariness…vigilance…that was both hard to describe and hard to notice until it wasn’t there anymore. Kakashi eyes the young nurse as she enters his room yawning, fixing her hair up as she walks, talking over her shoulder at someone behind her.

He had always thought the civilians of Kohoha lived free from most trouble. Not completely relaxed but still having a calm enough life. Well, calm when the village wasn’t being invaded. Now, he is revaluating that opinion.  When compared with these people, Kohoha civilians were stiff, suspicious, almost paranoid. Konoha’s people had hardiness to them, a useful trait when living in a Hidden-Village. They were especially wearily when it came to interacting with shinobi no matter how banally and harmless the shinobi acted. It was an attitude to be expected when there was a very real chance of deadly injury should the shinobi be unfriendly or unstable. A very real possibility with all the war and ever-present threat of enemy invasion and chakra monster attacks.  

Or maybe that was just his own experience as he never really interacted with many civilians and he his reputation wasn’t great.

“Hello Kakashi, how are you this evening,” The nurse greets him with a relaxed grin. He gives his bland smile and watches as she checks the various medical apparatus around Kakashi’s bed.

“I talked to the ward supervisor about your television. It should be working now.”

“Is it?”

Kakashi knows what a television is…they had a few of them in T&I, used for surveillance, and for a few more for monitoring remote training grounds like 44’s Forest of Death.

“Here is the remote. There are quite a lot of channels so now you’ll have something to keep you entertained.” He stares at the metallic rectangle object. He thinks that there might be a cultural difference between his understanding of a television and the nurse’s because watching an interrogation was never something he found particularly entertaining.

“Maybe it will help jog your memory as well.” The nurse gives him an encouraging smile before returning to her work.

Kakashi examines the object, bemused, “Ah, thank you Ms.”

“My name is Iori Ie I handle this ward on weekday evenings. I’ll be happy to answer any other questions if you have any. Anything to make this transition process easier.” She is sincere in her next assurance, “Just you wait, by the time your injuries are healed, we’ll have you right back up to speed.”

Television is…interesting and somewhat baffling. It’s not that Kakashi hasn’t seen examples of this sort of technology before now, it is just the availability and use he finds strange. Whereas a sensible village might hoard any new technology of its own use, here it is distributed and shared without limit. There was one of these things in every patent’s room! The same went for the information it communicated. Information so undervalued there was almost too much of it. Kakashi gives up trying to make sense of anything a few days into gaining access to the television and its hundreds of ‘channels,’ pumping out a constant stream of information. Some of it was obviously fictional, movies, entertainment, but most of the time it was hard to tell if what he was looking at was staged or if he was misreading a cultural difference. There were ‘channels’ devoted to daily status updates, delivering ‘news’ on everything from the weather, local politics, villain attacks, general crime and everything in between.

One thing he does confirm is that he is nowhere near any hidden villages or even on the continent, maybe not even in the correct world. This place was separate. This village or city as it was called, consisted of millions in a country of billions. There were more people in ‘Hosu’ than there were in the whole Fire Country. A logistics nightmare for sure. No wonder security was so lax around the hospital. Kakashi shakes his head and ends up switching off the television. Never would he have thought that having too much intel could be a bad thing.

“Ms Iori how would I go about getting something to read,” he asks the next day. She seems to be genuinely happy about his sudden sudden request. Kakashi hasn’t spoken or interacted much since waking, to busy trying to gauge whether the people surrounding him were threats.

He ends up with a pile of old manga volumes detailing the heroic adventures of some up and coming Hero protagonist and a stack of thin ‘magazines’ belonging to the nurse’s grown up son. The magazines are full of Hero analysis, speculation, and rumour like some sort of super detailed self-defeating bingo-book.  He just…doesn’t understand why anyone would let this sort of information circulate.

At least now he has a better idea about what a Hero and Villain was. A Hero was this word’s shinobi equivalent- if shinobi went out of their way to draw attention to themselves- acting more like a police force in that they managed threats to civilians instead of taking commissions and repelling external threats. Actually, they were nothing like Shinobi apart from their use of blood line abilities in combat. A Villain was like a missing-nin, hiding among the ridiculously large civilian population…sort of…

He needs to start working on a way home because he definitely doesn't understand this world.

...

NOTE: When Kakashi discovers the internet his brain will explode. 

PREV / NEXT

[atlabeth]

transferred part four - atla smau

TRANSFERRED - zuko x fem!reader

masterlist | part 3 | part 5

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.

warning: cursing

a/n: IM SORRY I KEEP SWITCHING POVS the one at the end is katara lmao

taglist:  @ourbestfriend-mishacollins , @lil-lex1 , @xxshad0wxb1rdxx , @zuko-is-the-sun​ 

You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and got out of your car, taking a few moments to stretch out your arms and legs after the long drive. It was a little weird to think that this was going to be your new home and university, especially after so long in Kyoshi, but you were honestly looking forward to the change. After the disastrous breakup you endured, it was time for a new chapter. 

Your eyes instinctively snapped over to where you heard a noise, and a huge grin broke out on your face. Two people were coming out of the complex, and they were none other than your two roommates. 

“Sokka, Aang!” You yelled as you ran towards them. You barreled into Sokka and wrapped him in the tightest hug you could muster, looping Aang into it as well for a few moments before you pulled away, smiling so wide your face hurt. 

“Aang, it’s so good to see you, and Sokka — Sokka, you’ve gotten so tall!” You mussed up his hair with your hand which he swatted away. 

“It’s good to see you too, Y/N, but it hasn’t even been that long! And I don’t know how many times I have to remind you that you’re only a year and a half older than me!” 

“Sokka, I haven’t seen you since I moved to Kyoshi for college. It’s been far too long.” You gestured with your head for them to follow you as you started walking over to your car. “And Aang, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you too! You better be treating Katara well.” 

The shorter boy smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, faint red tinting his cheeks. “I like to think I am, we’re really happy together. She’s the best person that I know and the most beautiful girl ever and she always h-” 

“Okay, that’s enough! Seriously Y/N, you don’t have to whip out the interrogations right away.” Despite his complaints, Sokka gave you a genuine smile and you could tell he was just as happy to see you. 

“Whatever. I’m gonna need all the details on everything that’s been going on the past three years. The occasional facetime call has not been enough.” You went to the back of your car and opened your trunk where most of the boxes were, turning your head when you heard another car pulling up. 

“That’s Katara’s car!” Aang exclaimed. “That must be her and the other girls!” 

The car pulled in two spots away from you and as soon as it stopped, an auburn-haired girl jumped out of the driver's seat and streaked over towards you, wrapping you in an even tighter hug than you gave Sokka. 

“Suki!” She was practically suffocating you but you were so glad to see her that you didn’t even care. “I’m so glad you’re here!” 

“Like I would miss my best friend’s moving day?” The two of you pulled away and went through your increasingly elaborate handshake, ending in a hip bump that caused you both to dissolve into giggles. “You look amazing, Y/N. It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve been together.” 

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’m here to stay! At least for the next four years.” You laughed and looked over to where your sister was helping Toph out of the car and gave her a wave. 

“As much fun as I’m having with all these greetings, we gotta start moving these fuckin’ boxes! At this rate, I’m gonna be sleeping outside.” You hugged Katara as well when she walked over, then you picked the first box up and motioned with your head for everyone else to get one as you started walking backwards towards the apartment. “Toph is the only one who’s exempt from this, everyone else gets a box and s-” 

You stopped in the middle of your sentence when someone bumped into you from behind, causing you to nearly drop your box. You were just as surprised when you felt hands on your waist, keeping you steady and helping you regain your balance. You turned your head and could immediately feel your cheeks heating up as you hastily moved away, laughing nervously and occupying yourself with the box in your hands. 

“Hey! Zuko! Nice to meet you! It is Zuko, right?” His golden eyes seemed to burn into you, but they were offset by his kind smile and the casual nod he gave you. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Sorry I’m so late, I was showering. I didn’t think you were gonna be here so soon.” He waved at Katara and Suki and they smiled back at him. 

He was even more attractive in person. His jet black hair, still a little wet from his shower, hanging just above his eyes was really doing it for you, and god, his eyes. They were intense, but more like a comforting campfire than a raging wildfire. You didn’t even realize you were staring until Sokka elbowed you. 

Your eyes widened slightly and you quickly averted them, adjusting your hold on the box and letting out another nervous laugh. “Now that we’re all here, how about these boxes, huh? I don’t have that much stuff because I’m broke, which is good for all of you.” 

You had gotten out of your flustered state by the time that everyone had a box in hand, save for Toph, and conversation flowed much easier while you and the rest of the group walked into the complex. 

“How was your drive, Y/N?” Zuko asked, holding the door open with his back as you all filed inside.

You shook your head and scoffed as you hit the button to call the elevator. “As boring as you can imagine. Traffic wasn’t horrible, but I swear I hit every single light on the way here. My music was the only thing that kept me sane.” 

“One pro of being blind is that I always have company in cars, but it also kinda sucks when the only source of conversation you have is Sokka or Katara,” Toph said with a teasing grin. 

“What?” Both of the aforementioned yelled at the same time, causing everyone except them to dissolve into laughter. 

“This is what I missed. I don’t even have to make up for three years of missed teasing because Toph’s had it taken care of.” You patted her on the shoulder as the elevator door opened and everyone filed in. “What floor are we on?” 

“Three. There’s a lot of foot traffic and we have some very annoying neighbors, but it’s one of the cheaper places here!” Sokka pushed the button and the doors closed. 

“Sounds.. fun!” You couldn’t really complain because you had practically begged for Sokka to let you live with him, plus you couldn’t afford anything more than splitting rent four ways in a cheap apartment. “Is there anything else I should know?” 

“Sokka never washes his dishes and only takes out the trash if you yell at him to do it. Zuko always leaves his towels on the ground but he’s a neat freak so the cleanliness of his room leeches into the rest of our apartment, it’s great. And I’m a perfect roommate,” Aang said with his smile that could convince you to give him everything you owned. 

“That is such a lie, Aang! I do everything that I’m supposed to do; your room is a mess that can’t even be cleaned up by Zuko, plus you stay up super late all the time talking on the phone to Katara! Thin walls buddy, THIN. WALLS.” 

“Do you want to talk about thin walls? Because you play your music as loud as possible, and somehow it’s always when I’m trying to study! And every time we drink, you become a huge mess.” After Zuko put his word in, the three boys all started arguing. You made eye contact with Katara and Suki; Katara gave you a sympathetic smile but Suki just grinned. 

“Alright, boys! We’re here, so kindly shut up.” You elbowed Sokka in the side as you walked out of the elevator, giving him an innocent smile when he scowled at you. “Lead the way, bro.” 

~~ 

It took about ten minutes to get all of your boxes in the apartment with six people helping you, and though the girls wanted to stay they had to get back for some stuff relating to their classes. You thanked and hugged them all, and soon it was just you, your brother, your sister’s boyfriend, and the guy that you thought was hot. 

You spun around in the living room before collapsing onto the couch, spreading your arms out above you and sighing heavily. “I feel like I could fall asleep right here.” 

“I hope you can because that’s where you’re gonna be sleeping.” You looked up at Sokka with shock, and he stared back at you for about five seconds until he started laughing. 

“Ah, you should’ve SEEN your face!” He managed to get out through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Do you enjoy causing me pain?” 

“Very much so.” 

“You and Sokka are sharing a room, Y/N. Aang and I are in the other. And don’t worry, there are two twin beds in each so you don’t have to share share,” Zuko explained quickly. 

“Oh, fantastic. My boyfriend always snored a lot so I’ve gotten very good at tuning them out. You’re lucky that I’m the best roommate ever, bro.” 

“First you invade the sanctuary that is my home, and then the sanctuary that is the group chat for the home, and now you embarrass me in front of all of my friends for no reason? You are not my mom!” 

“Come on Y/N, we can show you around your room and the apartment.” Aang interrupted Sokka’s spiel, still going on in the background as the two of you walked over to a door with a large band poster on it. 

Zuko watched your retreating figure with a small smile on his face until you disappeared into the room, snapping out of his trance when Sokka started pulling him towards the room, grumbling about how ‘no one appreciates my genius’ and ‘can’t believe they left me’. 

[fruitcoops]

I love reading all your works and they put a smile on my face everytime I see them. Is there any chance you could do a whole Lupin family truth or drink (with or without Sirius is cool too) thanks

Hello anon! Thank you for your kind words--they mean more than you know <3 Jules isn’t included here because he’s 10 and the questions are not suited for 10-year-olds, but this was so much fun to write all the same! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for alcohol and mentions of sex

“We’re back!” Marlene announced with a smile as she set up an unlabeled bottle on the table, along with three shot glasses. “And today, we’re doing something a little different with truth or drink. Loops, do you want to do the intros?”

Remus waved at the camera. “Hey, Lions, I’m Remus Lupin and these are my parents, Hope and Lyall.” He frowned and looked over at Marlene. “You toned down the questions, right? These are PG?”

“Nope!” she said cheerfully as she took her place behind the camera. “Take it away, Hope, it’s good to have you back!”

“It’s good to be back!” she said, smiling. “I had so much fun last time. Alright, Loops, describe your first kiss.”

He shook his head with a laugh. “It’s so weird hearing you call me that. Uh, I was seventeen and I kissed Ellie Sanders from down the street during her birthday party for a game of truth or dare.”

“Seventeen? I was expecting earlier, to be honest,” Lyall said as he took a card. “Hope, darling, have you ever been arrested?”

She reached for her shot glass and Remus’ jaw fell open. “What?”

“Well, I guess I have to answer it now,” she sighed. “Sweetheart, I grew up in the seventies and eighties, and your father and I met during a protest. This should not surprise you.”

“We can drink at any time, right?” Remus asked Marlene before taking a shot and drawing a card. “I could answer this one. Was I an accident?”

“Yes,” the three of them said at the same time.

“I was 21, he was 23, we had been married for three months and were not planning on having kids for at least six years,” Hope explained. She reached over and took Remus’ hand. “But you were the best accident. Okay, my turn. Have you ever had sex in my house?”

“I knew that kind of question was coming up,” Remus muttered. “No, I have not, and I don’t plan on ever doing it. My childhood bedroom is literally the least sexy place I can think of.”

“I don’t know, those plaid sheets and wall-to-wall bookshelves are really something, “ Lyall teased as he took a card. Remus rolled his eyes. “In a similar vein: when did you lose your virginity, and did you use protection?”

“Again, I was seventeen, and I did use protection because I knew I was gay at that point and didn’t want to risk anything.” Remus ran a hand down his face. “Ugh, this was not how I thought my day was going to go.”

“Was it the same night as your first kiss?” Hope gasped when he nodded. “Look at you go!”

“Oh my god, mom.” Remus picked a new card. “Ha! This should be interesting. Who’s your favorite child? Both of you have to answer.”

Hope drummed her fingers on her knees and Lyall bit his lip. “I love you for different reasons,” he finally said. “Jules is more cuddly and outgoing than you, but you actually have an off-switch and you’re a very kind person. Yeah, it’s an even split.”

“I can’t choose,” Hope said, tapping the edge of her card on the table. “You’re my boys and I love you. That’s all that matters. Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes, I have.” A soft smile tilted the edge of Remus’ lips up and he glanced behind the camera.

“Who are you looking at?” Marlene asked. “The viewers can’t see back here.”

“Oh! Sorry. My fiancé is on a bench by the wall with the car keys.” All three of them waved to Sirius. “Alright, dad, you’re up.”

“Which parent do you like more?” He mock-frowned at Remus. “I hope you know our future relationship directly depends on your answer to this single question from a drinking game on a Wednesday afternoon.”

“Just for that, I’m choosing mom,” Remus said, laughing when Lyall cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “In all honesty, I don’t have a favorite. Like you said earlier, I love you both for different reasons.”

“What reasons?” Hope asked.

“Dad, you taught me to cook and got me into hockey, but mom encouraged me to stick with PT and always goes the extra mile.” He rolled his shot glass between his fingers for a moment. “I just know that I’m really lucky to have you both in my life, because you’ve been nothing but supportive.”

Hope dabbed at her eye with the sleeve of her sweater and Lyall took a deep breath. “Whew. Okay. Please ask something super awkward,” he said.

“I’ll do my best,” Remus laughed. His smile turned into a grimace when he read the card and he rested his forehead on the table.

Hope nudged him with her elbow. “What, are you going to chicken out this late in the game? We don’t raise wusses in the Lupin family.”

“You have to ask it,” Marlene called.

Remus sat up and shook his shoulders out. “Dad, have you—I am begging you to drink—have you ever performed oral sex on mom?”

“Performed?” Lyall snorted. “What is this, the circus?”

Remus handed him the bottle. “Please drink.”

Lyall poured himself a shot and drank it; just as Remus was starting to look mildly relieved again, he grinned. “Yes, I have.”

“Damn it.” Remus covered his face with his hands. “I should have known you would answer anyway. Jesus. I need to sear that from my brain.”

Hope took her next card and slid the bottle to Remus. “What’s your favorite sexual position? I really don’t need to know this, sweetheart.”

“No, you certainly do not!” Remus said brightly, drinking his shot. “In fact, I’m glad you don’t want to.”

Lyall cleared his throat and took a card. “What’s something I do that embarrasses you?”

“This game is rigged to give all the loaded questions to you,” Remus laughed. “You need to figure out what you want for gifts. You always say you want nothing, and then the day after Christmas you’re pining after something you never told people you wanted.”

“I do not,” Lyall scoffed. Remus and Hope shared a look and his eyes widened. “Hey!”

“Okay, my turn.” Remus’ eyebrows rose when he read the card. “When I moved out, were you relieved or sad?”

“Oh, shit,” Hope murmured with a sniffle. “I’m already crying. Both. There was a little bit of both.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The first move only happened for a little while when you went to college, but you moved back after the accident and that was…tough.”

“It was easy letting you go the first time,” Lyall said, softer than he had been yet. “You were ready then. The second time, we were so worried and also so proud of you for everything you had worked for.”

Remus scrunched his nose up and let out a shaky breath, leaning their temples together. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Hope whispered. Lyall ruffled his hair. She coughed lightly and took a new card. “Please be something uncomfortably sexual. Ah, bummer. If someone offered you $10,000 dollars to never talk to me again, would you do it?”

Remus snorted. “No.”

“What about $100,000?”

“Nope.”

“A million?”

“Is this an auction?”

“If someone gave you ten million dollars to never speak to me again, would you take it?”

“Holy shit, mom!” he laughed. “Do you want me to stop talking to you? Is this a hint?”

“We did good,” she said, giving her husband a high-five.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Would you guys stop talking to me for ten million dollars?”

“No, never,” Lyall assured him before turning and winking at the camera. Remus groaned. “Our minds have traded bodies—“

“They have? That explains a lot.”

“Shush. If our minds traded bodies, what is the first thing you would do in my body?”

“No offense, but I would run as far away from mom as humanly possible. We are not having any Oedipus moments in this household. The second thing I would do is reach things on the high shelves of my house, because even though I’m five foot eleven, my six foot three fiancé insists on putting things just slightly out of reach.” Remus craned his neck to see behind the camera. “Yes, I’m talking about you. Stop laughing!”

“You don’t think the aforementioned fiancé would be curious as to why your dad was suddenly on the front doorstep?”

“I would hope you would explain what was going on when you woke up in my body.” When Lyall didn’t answer, Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dad. If we switch bodies, I need you to promise me you won’t sleep with my fiancé.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“You’re not even into men!”

“How do you know?” He burst out laughing at Remus’ shocked expression. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. The first thing I would do is go skating, because I bet your knees don’t hurt after ten minutes. Then I would go to the dentist, because I know you’re bad about scheduling your appointments.”

“He’s right!” A distant voice called.

Remus gave Marlene a disbelieving look as he drew a card. “Is this turning into Remus Lupin Callout Hour? Alright, if you could change one thing about me, what would it be?”

“Scheduling skills,” Lyall answered immediately.

“Answering phone calls,” Hope added.

Remus seemed surprised by her answer. “You told Sirius you didn’t like it when he got into fights on the ice. I was expecting the same here.”

She shrugged. “It’s kind of neat, seeing my kid get in a rumble out there. I’m very proud of you. Less proud when you start bleeding, but that’s only because you have a very nice nose and straight teeth.”

“You heard it here first, folks,” Remus said to the camera. “My mother worries more about my nose and my teeth that the fact that I’m getting beaten up.”

“I think that’s the last question,” Marlene said with a laugh. “How are you all feeling?”

“I feel fantastic,” Lyall answered.

“I know far too much about my parents’ sex life.”

“It was one question,” Hope scoffed. “I feel wonderful, for your information. These are always such fun.”

“Should we ask Jules to come next time?” Marlene asked.

“Seeing as he’s ten and knows way too many embarrassing stories about me, absolutely not,” Remus said.

“We could give him apple juice, he’d have a good time,” Hope shrugged. “I would not oppose it.”

“You’re famous now, Loops.” Lyall grinned. “The tabloids would love having your baby brother as a gold mine of information.”

“Can I sign us off?” he asked Marlene. “Please tell me I can sign us off. I need to leave, like, five minutes ago.”

“You’re depriving me of content, Re!”

“Hey, hockey fans, thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride’s Truth or Drink! I’m Remus Lupin, these are my parents, and we hope you have a great day.”

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

A Tail for Two

Summary: You often seek solace in the form of the most unusual of company. So one day after you find out your father pawned you off to marry some rich man’s son, you release your woes to one of your closest friends. Thinking you had no way out, you never expected your life to take a complete 180.

Warnings: Very mild and brief mention of n.udity, otherwise this is some adventure and fluff.

Word Count: 6k exactly

A/N: Second prize for my giveaway for @nuvoleincielo​! I apologize for this one taking so long - I had trouble figuring out what to do plot wise for this. I also didn’t want to surpass 5k words, but it happened anyway and I’m pleased with how this turned out. Enjoy!

Damp sand sifted with your footsteps, a trail soon washed away from the gentle lapping waves of Flat Iron Lake. A steel toned mist settled heavy amongst the surface, giving no leeway to dry land. The bleak atmosphere obscured the sinking sun. It was early evening, and soon you’d be engulfed in total darkness.

Yet you didn’t care. The tears flowing from your eyes didn’t allow much for sight anyway. Running aimlessly across the shore, you didn’t stop until your lungs burned for air, struggling to breathe properly from the exertion and crying combined. Slowing down to a walk, you breathed in the humid air and finding no physical relief.

You cast your gaze at your surroundings for the first time, though spotting hardly anything in this dense fog. The shore stretched before you, reaching into the endless depths of the lake. The calm waters lapped around the soles of your boots, dampening the leather.

Water always calmed you in the darkest of times. Staring into the murky depths instilled a sense of serenity, an escape from this cruel world, even temporarily. Swallowing the painful lump in your throat, you bent down to sit on the sand. It was cold, except you couldn’t care less. It felt soothing.

Wrapping your arms around your knees, you allowed your vision to focus on the turbid waters in front of you. Fish darted beneath the surface, occasionally jumping up to catch a bug. Oh how it must be so simple to live like a fish, not having to conform to society and just relying on basic instinct.

Even without much light, their scales held a certain iridescence to them. On a sunny day they glittered like freshly polished jewels, inviting you in for a swim amongst them.

A flash of movement caught your eye, a glance of color amongst the opaque green, brown and silver. A much larger object swimming amongst the smaller schools of fish. You heard the water surface break, and something splashed. You squinted your eyes to see a figure amongst the dim. Who was swimming in this weather, while the air was this chilly?

The figure drew closer to you, and your muscles tensed. You weren’t sure what to expect, until a familiar face appeared through the thick curtain of mist. A face you hadn’t seen in a while.

“A-Arthur?”

The being known as Arthur rose halfway from the surface, exposing his drenched, naked torso. Strings of lake weed adorned his neck and upper arms, some strung with clam shells. Beneath the water lurked a shimmering presence, the lazy treading of his beautiful thick tail.

Sailors often told the cautionary tale of these creatures, though many people put it off as hogwash and silly dreams. Once as a young girl you dreamed about mythical creatures, and what it would be like to meet them. You supposed that wish would never come true.

Arthur was a merman you met some years ago, after an argument with your father had driven you to seek solace in this very lake. You’d come across a lonely dock that you sat upon, letting your tears fall into the waters below. Somehow your crying had been heard across the lake, attracting the most unusual of company.

From countless tales, you knew merfolk would generally avoid humans, unless they were seeking blood. However Arthur was a different sort, his curiosity plain as he spoke with you. Somehow it was easy to converse with this stranger, openly admitting your woes. He couldn’t offer a solution, though you found yourself comfortable to unload to someone who wouldn’t judge.

You hadn’t expected to call that same merman your friend. After that night you ventured out again in hopes to see him and to convince yourself it wasn’t a vivid dream. At first unsuccessful, he appeared just as you gave in, and thus kindling your friendship with him. Often sneaking out at night to call upon his company, away from the eyes of the curious.

Though as these past few years went by, you’d see him less and less. At no fault of either of yours, he had his life to live and so did yours. He didn’t tell you much about his life beneath the waves, other than he traveled frequently. Though his accent was heavy, indicating he must’ve settled somewhere ages ago.

Now the merman before you smiled in recognition. “It’s been quite a while,” He mused.

You nodded in response. “Yes, over a year since we last spoke,” You responded, though your voice thick from crying. You sniffed in attempts to sound clearer.

“Seems something’s troublin’ you again,” he rumbled, swimming even closer. “I heard you.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. Taking a shuddering breath, you spoke again. “My father… he’s trying to force me to marry this man. I didn’t want any part of it.”

Arthur frowned at this news. “Why is that?”

“Some stupid debt he has to settle,” you explained while shaking your head in disgust. “He drank his savings away and took a loan from a rich businessman. Well when it came time to pay, he had nothing to give, except me.”

Arthur’s thick brows furrowed in concern, the frown deepening. “That don’t seem right, what kinda father would give up his daughter over a debt?”

“Mine,” you grumbled, glaring down at the sandy ground. “We had an argument, a bad one. I couldn’t change his mind.”

The merman let out a sigh, shaking his own head. “Not even my people do that, no one would be happy.”

“Unfortunately it’s common up here on the surface,” you continued, toeing at a shell half-buried in the sand. “Women aren’t respected.”

“So I’ve seen,” Arthur mused. “Humans are a strange breed, pawnin’ off their young over money, yet they call us monsters.”

A bitter smile crossed your lips. “Well, your kind also eat sailors, or so I’ve heard,” as you spoke, a darkness crossed his eyes. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

A smile of his own appeared on his face, though rueful. “S’okay, I can’t blame you. Those stories are as old as time.”

You’ve since learned that tales like that were more hogwash. Sure, Arthur did imply that perhaps other mer-tribes would hunt down humans, but far and few in between if normal hunts were unsuccessful. Merfolk would prefer to stay away from humans, as their curiosity would cause more harm than good in sparking hunts of their own to bring one or more back for money and show.

Though out of the multiple times you’ve met Arthur, by some miracle you were able to avoid the company of others. Usually you two were in your own little world until other obligations called either one of you back home. Sometimes you wished you could join him, hoping one day your legs would mesh into a beautiful tail and you’d swim after him, letting him bring you to his home far beneath the surface.

Dreams would remain dreams. Hell, if God himself would grant you the impossible, you’d leave with him right then and there.

“Couldn’t you run away?” Arthur asked, breaking your train of thought.

You blinked in surprise, wondering if he somehow could read your mind. If that were the case, would he have heard your thoughts from times previous? Your face flushed at the mere consideration, and you were glad it was slowly getting darker. “I couldn’t survive on my own,” you finally answered. “Mama always told me it weren’t proper for a lady to be outside.”

This seemed to confuse Arthur, as he cocked an eyebrow in bewilderment. “That don’t seem right at all, how are you s’posed to learn anything?”

“I learn how to be a wife. To cook and clean, how to make my future husband happy,” you sighed heavily. “Guess I’ll be good for one thing.”

“Don’t talk like that, maybe there’s hope for you,” Arthur said quietly.

You shook your head slowly, your vision blurred once again with a fresh bout of tears. They fell freely, soaking into the already dampened earth. “Unless someone could whisk me away, there’s no hope.”

---

That night, you succumbed to a restless slumber. Your subconscious seemed to be on a loop, playing the same tumultuous argument between you and your father. The warped face of your future husband loomed from the depths of your mind, standing before you with a smirk. Then, you there next to him, staring at yourself in a mirror. A wedding dress bound to your figure, nervous hands clutching a wilting bouquet while your spouse held an iron grip on your waist.

The waking world served no enlightenment. A few days have passed by with no offer of escape. One mid-morning, your father sent you out into town for groceries (and alcohol), a chore he’d usually do himself if he wasn’t already waist deep in inebriation.

Iron-clad hooves tapped against the worn cobblestone street of Blackwater. Dark clouds overcast the sky, and the smell of rain hung heavy in the air, deterring most other citizens. You were nearly alone in the street, aside from the occasional wagon passing you by. You weren’t in a hurry regardless of the impending storm, your mind too wrapped up in your own thoughts to shift focus on nature.

Within the next week, you were to be wed. You’d met your future husband only a handful of times prior to the agreement – he was a few years older than you, outwardly handsome though seemed to have an affinity for gambling. Coming from wealth, money was merely a secondary thought for him. He’d flirt with you, flash a charming smile and run his clean fingers against his neat hair, slicked back with pomade.

Any other eligible woman would be keen to marry such a charming man. Those who congratulated you were ignorant of the true reason, and you didn’t have the heart to remedy that. You supposed the truth would show itself sooner or later, especially since your father’s poor financial decisions were somewhat of a known issue.

Drawing closer to the general store, you slid from the saddle just as the first few drops of rain began to fall. They felt unseasonably cold, which only indicated a miserable ride home. You sighed and hitched the horse before hurrying onto the sidewalk and pushing open the glass door of the general store. You were greeted by the smell of coffee beans and dried goods, shortly followed by a verbal welcome of the shopkeeper. You nodded to him in response and turned your attention to the shelves.

Out of the corner of your eye, another patron partially caught your attention. He was on the opposite end of the shop, back facing you as he perused the shelves. He was tall and broad-framed, with long sandy hair flowing like water to just above shoulder height.

Something about him seemed familiar. Perhaps you’ve come across him before in town? It wasn’t smart to dwell however, and you didn’t want to get caught staring. You instead turned your attention back to the tiers of canned fruit.

After a few minutes of picking through the shelves, you paid for a crate worth of goods and stepped out just in time for the drizzle to turn into a steady rain. You peered over at your horse, the old stallion shaking his head as if to rid of the droplets falling into his ears. You approached him, placing the crate on the ground to transfer everything to the saddle bags.

Behind you, the door opened again. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the man from earlier. He was too out of view to see him clearly, and it would be too impolite to look over.

Within a few minutes the groceries were tucked into the saddlebags, thankfully transferred over without becoming too wet. You wiped away a layer of precipitation from the saddle and mounted, casually throwing a glance the man’s way. He was leaning up against the building, his head turned away from you. He had no coat nor hat on, nothing to shield him from the ever hastening downpour. You shook your head and steered your horse the opposite way down the street.

Later that day, the rain failed to lighten which confined you indoors for a few hours. However, it was nearly time for the animals to be fed their dinner. Wrapping yourself in a thick shawl, you stepped outside of your back door and hurried toward the run down barn on the far end of the yard. The horse nickered in response from his small pasture, knowing exactly your destination. Chickens pecking restlessly at the ground ruffled their feathers and scattered away from your footsteps, only to follow you just a few feet behind.

Stepping through the threshold, the surrounding dampness increased the musty, stale hay and bird dropping aroma trapped in the old wooden walls. Your nose wrinkled as you approached an opened bale of hay, first grabbing a few flakes and making your way back to the pasture. Stepping into the shallow mud and focusing over to the horse, you noticed his back was turned – his attention on a person petting his neck.

It wasn’t a strange sight to see, as you lived right next to the road and the ever so friendly old stallion would attract children and urban tourists for some affection and treats. You didn’t mind; they weren’t hurting him and he was happy regardless.

You could only partly see the visitor, and with a prick of surprise you recognized him, somewhat. You sidestepped for a better view, thus confirming your suspicion. It was the man from the store. Your movement caught his attention and his head turned toward you.

Wait…

You frowned and furrowed your brow. This man seemed too familiar. A face you’d only associate with certain times, surrounded by murky water.

No, that wasn’t possible.

A small smile formed on the man’s lips, a very familiar smile you’d seen countless times when greeted by a friend.

Truly this couldn’t be reality.

“Arthur?”

The smile widened and he gave a small, single nod. “Hey, Y/N.”

Your body seemed to be rooted in its place. Aside from your slacked jaw of shock, your muscles seemed to be frozen. How could the merman you’d come to know stand in front of you, on dry land? You must be dreaming, perhaps you fell off your horse and hit your head somehow –

“You alright?” he asked, breaking through your mental attempts to make any sense of this.

A million words flitted through your mind though none were able to pass your lips. Finally after ten seconds of silence, your mouth moved to utter a singular, “How?”

Arthur gripped the fence and hopped over with such ease it almost seemed like he floated, crossing the pasture to come closer to you. Your breath hitched, watching him move so fluidly as if he walked his entire life. This simply didn’t make a lick of sense. He stopped just before you, mere feet from your placement. Your eyes refused to leave him, wide and unblinking despite the rain softly splattering your cheeks.

“I’ll tell ya later,” he dropped his voice to a murmur. “Right now, I want you to get ready.”

“Ready?” you repeated, your throat choking on the word. “Ready for what?”

“What we talked ‘bout the other day,” he reminded you.

You blinked in confusion, your mind still attempting to process the sight before you. With a short moment you recounted the conversation, explaining to him about your arranged marriage, how you can’t run away, and how you wished –

Oh.

“Arthur, you can’t just show up and take me away!” you hissed under your breath.

Confusion settled on his handsome face. “Why not? You said you wished for someone to do just that.”

“I wasn’t being serious!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air and turning around, running your palm across your damp face. It was a wishful thought, yes, though you’d come to terms with this marriage knowing you had no other options. Perhaps you were dreaming after all, your subconscious mind attempting to reach for your deeper desires to further harp your emotions.

“Wasn’t you, though?” Arthur said quietly. A gentle hand reached to rest on your shoulder, a small action that caused you to flinch. “I saw how miserable you are, you couldn’t have jus’ changed your mind in the span of a few days.”

You pursed your lips, head tilting to give him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t change my mind, I just accepted my fate.” You sighed.

A frown crossed his lips. “Why?”

“What else have I got?” you said with a shrug. “I’ve told you before, I don’t have the skills to live outside of…this,” you raised your arm and gestured to the small house before you. “I could never – ”

“Why do ya think I’m here?” he interrupted. “You wouldn’t be alone.”

His words halted your next response. Turning to face him again, you narrowed your eyes at him, a frown of your own forming. “And where would we go? Are you gonna take me to the lake? I don’t have a fin, you know.”

His shoulders shuddered with a deep chuckle. He shook his head and grinned lopsidedly in amusement. “I know, Y/N. We ain’t goin’ to the lake, I’ll tell ya that much.”

This only further befuddled you, and more questions arose in suspicion. “So where the fuck – and why do you have – ”

“I ask you to trust me here,” he spoke again, his voice soft and even. “If you come with me, I’ll answer any question you have.”

You simply stared at him, a small part of your brain still attempting to make any sense of this. You have to wake up if this was a true dream, mentally willing yourself to open your eyes. “I must be asleep,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head.

“You ain’t.”

Your eyes met his, seeing his ever so patient gaze. What other explanation would you have other than a trick of your own mind? Maybe you’d fallen off your horse and hit your head on the ground. Holding your hands out in front of you, your fingers flexed and curled. Everything seemed the same.

His own hands appeared in your field of view, taking yours rather gently. Wet from the rain but warm and calloused, your skin tingled where he touched. It wasn’t the first time you’d had physical contact with him, though you were used to the sheen of lake water covering his skin accompanied with a texture that reminded you of the surface of a fish. Even though he was damp, his skin was dry. “I know it’s strange, Y/N. I ain’t lyin’ to ya here, I will take you elsewhere if you really want. And I know you want that,” he stated plainly. “But if that ain’t true, then I will go back to the lake.”

You’d fallen silent then. The logical process would be to turn away, to tell him that he was wasting his time and go back to his home. However, the tiny part of your brain you’d tried to suppress throughout this ordeal was screaming. Clawing its way from the mental rocks of which it was buried beneath. Yearning for that chance to live as your own woman.

And possibly living with Arthur?

Your chest expanded with a deep breath, shutting your eyes as drops of water fell from your lashes. He promised he’d tell you the questions burning in the back of your throat as long as you’d come with him, and what reason did you have to not trust him? He wasn’t a stranger, had always been nice to you, never gave you any indication you’d be in danger while in his presence.

It still however was a huge risk. What if your father or fiancé came after you? What if either of you ran into danger? What if you would be turned into a mermaid in some way?

“Listen,” you nearly jumped when his voice sounded closer, opening your eyes to see he leaned in. “I don’t got much time out here, I’ll be back by midnight. You can give me your answer then.”

Before you could say anything, he hopped over the fence once again, leaving you gaping after him.

---

As the cloudy day transitioned into night, you relentlessly mulled over what you’d just witnessed. Arthur the merman walking and speaking to you, offering a way out. After multiple pinches and other obscure ways to convince yourself it was a dream, turns out this was very much reality. Afterward, you weighed your options over and over. You weren’t the first to be forced into marriage and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Concurrently, you wouldn’t be the first to flee from an unpleasant lifestyle. Marriage would mean financial security and a fixed, mundane duty. Running away would unlock a door to a world full of secrets and adventure, though can be proven dangerous.

You could be safe for potentially the rest of your life, yet bound by societal laws and left to be only dreaming of what your life could have been.

Your father’s lumbering sounded from the floor below, accompanied by a sharp bang every once in a while. Since your mother died, he was never seen without an amber bottle in his hand. He was simply a mere shell of what he used to be, no longer the man you grew up with. Perhaps this arrangement was his way of caring, assuring you’d never come across any trouble.

But you were tired of bargaining with yourself, trying to make sense of this decision other than the most obvious. He was a stranger to you now, as he has been for years. Should you continue to subject yourself to his wishes, to be miserable until the day you die?

No, not anymore.

When the sounds downstairs finally quietly, you began to pack your essentials. You kept an eye on the time, grabbing a few days’ worth of clothing and a few coveted trinkets: some jewelry and a photo of your mother, along with whichever else you could fit into the old leather sack. When you’d finished, the time was 11:30.

Arthur showed up on the stroke of midnight exactly. You’d spotted him in your backyard again, keeping to the shadows of the barn. You snuck downstairs as quietly as you could, giving a sidelong glance to your father, who was passed out at the kitchen table with an empty bottle dangling from his hand. Silently, you bid him a goodbye as a bittersweet wave overcame you, blinking away a hint of tears. Maybe you will see him again someday, if he were to ever sober up.

Passing through the back door and closing it as carefully as you could, your heart pounded loudly. Arthur’s dark figure became clearer as your eyesight adjusted, along with an unfamiliar horse on the opposite side of the fence. You met him halfway. He eyed the sack slung over your shoulder, and a small smile appeared on his face.

“Seems like you’ve made your decision,” he stated.

Nodding enthusiastically, you replied, “Yes. It took me a while to figure it out, but yes. I’ll go with you, I’m trusting you.”

Arthur nodded quietly, his eyes leaving you to sweep across the landscape before turning his attention back to you. “I found a place we can stay for a while over in New Austin, ‘less you got somewhere else in mind.”

This piqued your interest. You weren’t too far from the state border, although it would take a substantial amount of time to reach it. There was no way Arthur had gone there within the time slot he allotted, unless he’d been on the surface previously.

More and more questions grew in the back of your mind, though you had to staunch your curiosity. You couldn’t dawdle for long, in case some night owls nearby grew curious of your conversation. “Then let’s go,” you finally said, glancing at the horse you assumed was Arthur’s ride. However you paused, turning your attention toward the stallion resting in the pasture.

Arthur followed your gaze. “Somethin’ wrong?”

You looked at him again. “Is it alright if we take him with us? I don’t wanna leave him behind.”

Without hesitation, Arthur nodded. “Sure, you won’t hear me complainin’.”

---

The clear full moon cast a silver hue along the tan landscape of Great Plains, illuminating the paths perfectly. The two horses loped quietly along the rolling hills. Arthur assured there was no rush, and so you had to quell your anxious excitement.

However, this didn’t stop the questions. As soon as you’d exited the outskirts of Blackwater, the first question was, “How are you here on land?”

He explained that merfolk had the ability to grow legs, though not many of them truly took advantage of it due to the fear of humans. It’d been at least a century since any notion of them stepping onto dry land, with Arthur being the exception, only he kept it a secret.

“So…how often do you come onto land?” you asked next.

“Been on n’ off since I was a boy,” he answered. “Truth is, my mother used to do the same. Loved humans, came to shore often. She met my father that way, he was human.”

This news surprised you. Who knew that merfolk and humans could have children together? And if that was possible, how many others out there were like Arthur?

“I spent a lot o’ time on land, lot o’ time in the water. Learned how to live as both, but my father was killed when I was young, so I took to the waters, until my mother passed.”

“I’m…so sorry,” you said automatically, your heart falling to your stomach.

To your surprise, Arthur chuckled. A small, humorless laugh. “Never understood why humans say that, they ain’t the cause of a particular tragedy, so why apologize?”

You couldn’t really answer that question yourself. It was ingrained into your mind that you never had any further consideration. It was an odd thing to say, really. You shook your head as if to clear those thoughts, wanting to focus on him again. “Where do you prefer living?”

You could see his broad shoulders shrug. “Can’t really say, I enjoy both since I can live jus’ fine on both. Don’t take too much to adapt since I’m already familiar.”

“So…what does that mean for me?”

He turned his head toward you.

“Are you going to live on land with me for the rest of your life, or are you gonna leave at some point?” you reiterated.

Arthur slowed up his horse, falling in step with yours. “I’ll be around for as long as ya want me,” he answered seriously. “But I couldn’t leave knowin’ you had no options.”

Those words tugged at your heartstrings. Arthur had been your friend for years, perhaps your only true friend. He left the waters for you, with no second consideration for himself. A small smile tugged at your lips.

---

Within a few hours you’d reached your destination: a small shack on the edge of the San Luis River with a dock. At the bottom of a cliff and surrounded by scrubby brush, it was enough to deter any unwanted company. Even though the shack was fully furnished, Arthur mentioned it had been abandoned for a little while now. He would swim here with the intention of cleaning it up for you, assuming you’d go along with his idea. It was cozy; one small bed in the corner and a furnace on the opposite end. Only fit for one person. Arthur insisted he was just fine sleeping in the water when you mentioned there was no room for both of you.

The first few days were a strange adjustment. You’d never been on your own, at least like this. You were used to preparing hot meals for yourself and your father with purchased goods. Arthur provided the food, bringing in fish or venison for either of you to cook. He didn’t wander too far from you in concern to leave you vulnerable, and you weren’t keen to wander out into the wilderness. Some nights you definitely heard the howl of a wolf or the snarl of a cougar in the distance.

After the first week passed, you were almost accommodated to this new life. Arthur offered to teach you how to hunt and fish, both in and out of the water. He was already swimming around one morning whilst waiting as you approached the glistening surface from the docks, his beautiful tail gleaming in the rising sun.

But what surprise you had when he made it to shore completely, naked as a newborn baby. You hadn’t seen him transform officially yet, and he seemed to lack modesty when he asked you why you were suddenly flustered in his presence. He was certainly nice to look at, even though you had to quickly shoo him inside to get dressed, for your own sake.

Within a month, Arthur turned you into a wilderness expert. Soon hunting for the dinner table, learning to track and cover, you were no longer nervous to step past those surrounding shrubs. You kept busy by picking herbs and catching game to sell to passing merchants, though avoiding coming too close to West Elizabeth.

One evening, you’d come home from hunting to find Arthur sitting on the end of the dock. Only half-dressed, lacking a shirt. His damp hair indicated he’d been in the water recently. You curiously approached him, wondering if something was on his mind.

At the creak of the boards, he turned and smiled at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you responded, taking a seat next to him. “What’re you up to?”

“Ah, just thinkin’,” he responded, casting his gaze across the river as the last of the sun’s rays shone across the surface.

You tilted your head. “Of?”

“Lot o’ things, these past few weeks,” he said lowly.

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” he slowly turned his head to look at you. “You were sayin’ that you didn’t know how to live like this, now you do.”

You nodded in agreement. Many times he’s expressed how proud he was for you to learn a new skill, and you were proud of yourself to adapt so quickly. “Thanks to you, Arthur. If I’d attempted this on my own, I’d probably be dead within a week, or somehow found and dragged back home.”

“It won’t come to that anyway, least from how far you’ve progressed,” Arthur pointed out.

Smiling at him, you said, “I’ll be forever grateful for taking me away.”

He half-smiled at you. “I’m grateful you agreed,” he replied, his eyes suddenly falling to the structure beneath you. “I jus’ hope that…” he murmured so quietly you had to strain to hear.

“What?”

He sighed deeply. “It’s silly, but I hope you still want me ‘round. You’re more than capable of livin’ on your own now, you don’t need me.”

You blinked in surprise from his confession. “Why wouldn’t I, Arthur? You’re my friend, you’ve done so much for me already. Why would I just toss you away like that?”

“You don’t need me,” he repeated. “You can go on n’ do whatever you want with your life now, ain’t fair to stay here n’ –“

“Arthur,” you interrupted so sharply he stared at you. “I…I don’t need you, I but I want you here. You gave me this opportunity, and now I’m choosing to do this. Do you know how much you mean to me?”

He didn’t answer, only giving you a look of faint surprise. You stared back evenly, your words still fresh. You and Arthur had gotten so close since arriving here, having opened up in new ways toward one another.

Perhaps even closer than friends.

Those lingering glances, those quick moments of affection, a light touch here and there. The weight of his words when he bid you farewell for the day. Little moments that would make your heart soar. A new emotion arising within you every time you woke up to see him.

What you said next flowed from your mouth without hesitation. “I…I think I love you, Arthur.”

It surprised you how easy you admitted it. His blue eyes widened in his own shock, his lips parting as if to say something. Instead his mouth sat slack, eliciting no sound. You waited for a reaction, a change, a word, something.

A full moment passed and nothing, your heart dropped. Have you misinterpreted his signals? Maybe they meant something else to the other half of his world. Either way, you started to feel foolish. You took a shuddering breath and looked away, beginning to move. “I’m sorry, I’ll just – ”

A calloused hand grasped yours at an instant. An automatic flinch suddenly swept away when Arthur’s other hand cupped your chin, a firm yet tender hold to keep you in place. You turned your head back to him, observing the soft smile on his lips, and the gentle hooded gaze he gave you.

You relaxed in his touch, allowing your body to shift closer to him. The hand that held yours wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer and meeting no resistance. He leaned toward you, placing his lips upon yours.

Kissing him seemed natural. Your previous suitor was forceful and hard against you, but Arthur, as large and solid as he was, melded to you. Your hands reached for him, tangling in his damp hair, wrapping around his thick neck. He moaned slightly against your mouth, a low sound rumbling within his chest. Finally, he pulled away from you, the smile still remaining.

Fire licked at your cheeks, your mind in a haze as your smile mirrored his. You almost couldn’t believe it happened. No singular phrase passed your tongue as you mentally scrambled for your next words. “I…” you finally uttered, unsure how to continue.

He chuckled, smoothing his thumb across the ridge of your upper lip. “I think I love you too, sweetheart.”

Your smile only widened, the heat brushing against your face only increasing. This was a first for you, a rush of excitement and a whirlwind of emotion overtaking you. “Well, what now?” you bashfully asked.

Arthur glanced out at the water with a look of contemplation. Only a short moment passed before he stood up, and held his hand out. “Wanna go for a swim?”

You blinked, not expecting this response. But you took his hand anyway, allowing him to help you to your feet. “Now, here?”

“Only us out here, ‘sides, I wanna show ya how beautiful it is from my eyes…” he said, quickly shedding his pants. With nothing else on, he dove into the water with a graceful arc. Even in the dying light you watched as the skin of his legs slowly began to shimmer and mesh together into his tail beneath the disturbed waters. He surfaced just seconds later, peering up at you expectantly. “It’s nice n’ warm in here, you’ll like it.”

You were hesitant and admittedly a little nervous as you hadn’t swam in years. “Um, I don’t have a swimsuit…” you weakly pointed out.

“Neither do I,” the paper thin edges of his fin appeared, splashing playfully. “That don’t matter.”

You opened your mouth to argue, except you knew he was right. No one was around to see you, and you would be submerged if some random boat decided to pass by. Besides, you were itching to see how Arthur viewed the world, or at least his world. “Alright, you convinced me.”

It wasn’t too long before you too were bare, though Arthur was kind enough to not stare. Peering down at your reflection, you took a deep breath and plunged in.

[makeste]

top 20 favorite quirks

okay, but listen, though! it’s exactly what it says in the title. not best quirks, or most useful quirks, or most creative quirks. not even coolest quirks! I did try to take all of these things into consideration when choosing, but honestly? by far the most important factor was, “I JUST THINK THEY’RE NEAT.”

anyway but let me backtrack and post the actual ask.

you’ll note that at no point was I asked to pick twenty of them. I did that all on my own. so here is my list!

20. Solid Air (Tsuburaba)

Tsubaraba Kousei. all-time undefeated grand champion of The Floor Is Lava. or at least he was until Ochako came along. anyway, so this is an extremely nifty quirk with all sorts of utility ranging from defense to helping him get around. it’s super useful for catching bad guys, and apparently the only real limit is his lung capacity. this quirk has so much potential and I love it.

19. Copy (Monoma)

the fact that he can copy his opponents’ powers and use them against them is badass enough, but add in the fact that he can hold up to 3 (or 4??) of them at once -- for as long as ten minutes -- and this quirk starts getting seriously powerful. anyway so one thing you might note as you read on is that although Copy is on my favorite quirks list, AFO is not! and that’s because Monoma’s limits actually make the quirk much more interesting to me, because they force him (and Horikoshi) to get creative. this is a really fun quirk and I would love to see more of Monoma in action. about time we saw him fight some actual villains and not just class 1-A, honestly.

18. Brainwashing (Shinsou)

as with Monoma’s quirk, what really sets this apart from other mind-control superpowers (to me, anyway) is the fact that it has limitations. he can’t just control anyone at random; in order to take them over he has to get them to respond to him somehow. which leads to innovations like the voice-changer, and which as a result has made his battles so genuinely interesting and fun to watch. anyway so I really want Shinsou to hurry up and join 2-A, and for them to just give him his provisional license all “here you go, son” with no testing whatsoever, because we’re past the point of pretending the HPSC is actually responsible these days, and because I really want to see if he can help turn the tides the next time the heroes battle the League.

17. Zero Gravity (Ochako)

I feel like it’s worth noting that I don’t really have any kind of fear of heights or falling or anything like that. and so I can’t really explain why Toga using this quirk on Ms. Curious and her lackeys was hands down one of the most singularly disturbing scenes in the entire manga for me! but it was!! even now I’m wincing just thinking about it. she just lifted them all up and DROPPED THEM and they just FELL and DIED. just like that. holy fucking shit. anyway, so we should all be very grateful that Ochako is super kind and sweet and more inclined towards helping people rather than murdering them. because holy shit. anyways though this quirk is dope.

16. Erasure (Aizawa)

I once said that this quirk was “not very cinematic”, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so wrong about anything in my life. oh, past me. you truly underestimated the dramatic impact of someone with a terrifyingly powerful quirk going in for the kill, only to be all “NANI?!” as they suddenly realize that their powers are no longer working, and the camera pans over to a man with gorgeous floating hair and intense red anime eyes. I owe you an apology, Erasure. you are cinematic AF.

15. Black Hole (Thirteen)

I really wish we got to see Thirteen fight more often. they suffer from the same “too powerful” curse as so many of the other characters and it’s a shame. anyway so Black Hole is cool af and gives me a ton of Miroku/kazaana vibes, which I freaking love. this quirk is lowkey on a Tomura-level of destructive potential, honestly, and yet no one ever talks about it?? Thirteen could literally destroy anything they touched if they wanted to?? imagine if they ever Awakened, you guys. holy shit.

14. Tape (Sero)

this power is so fucking stupid and ridiculous and completely absurd and I LOVE IT. Horikoshi really drew a skinny guy with tape elbows and was all, “so this kid is basically Spider-Man but with tape. I have not put the least bit of logical thought or creative effort into this power beyond that, and I’m not going to, either.” and somehow we all just accepted it. anyway, dubious origins aside, it’s such a versatile ability and Sero has such amazing control over it. it’s offense; it’s defense; he can use it to set traps; he can use it for maneuverability. TAPE ELBOWS CAN DO IT ALL.

13. Outburst (Ms. Joke)

when will it finally be her time. Outburst is one of those powers that sounds super dumb at first, until you really stop and think what the ability to make someone laugh at will could actually DO to people. true uncontrollable belly laughter is a totally incapacitating thing. she’d have people collapsing to the ground and practically seizing up. and good luck using your own quirk to fight back when you’re doubled over struggling to breathe and can’t even see straight because of the tears in your eyes. that’s assuming any of her opponents are even capable of thinking straight long enough to try it. like, this is such a straight up brutal ability and the fact that we have still NEVER SEEN IT is honestly infuriating.

12. Glamour (Camie)

it’s an illusion quirk. of course I have to put it on my list. illusion powers make every battle approximately 100x more entertaining. and what makes this particular power even better is that in any other series, this quirk would have been given to some Tokoyami-esque super serious emo kid. but BnHA went and gave it to Karen from Mean Girls instead. what a fucking power move. goddamn.

11. Black (Kuroiro)

according to BnHA Ultra Analysis, Kuroiro’s Appearing Out of Nowhere skills are rated a 4 out of 6. I still haven’t figured out if this is meant to be a burn on him or not. this kid can ninja in and out of literally any dark object in existence. if it’s nighttime, that means he can basically move wherever he wants to at will. of course he’s skilled at Appearing Out of Nowhere. so tell me then, why is it ONLY a four out of six?? how could he possibly fuck this up?? who was grading him?? DOES HE JUST SUCK. I don’t know, but anyway it’s really funny to me and also I really love this quirk.

10. Transform (Toga)

Toga went and Awakened herself right into the top ten with the reveal that not only can she mimic other people’s appearances, but that while she is transformed, she can actually use their quirks. like excuse me, what?? holy shit??? it is honestly driving me crazy that we’ve only seen this in action once. Transform is basically Plot Twist: The Quirk. I really want to see Toga use it to its full potential and infiltrate U.A. and/or spy on the HPSC and/or murder someone with their loved one’s own quirk. I WANT HER TO GIVE SOMEONE THE MAES HUGHES TREATMENT. I want her to do something so shocking that people ragequit the fucking manga lol. I know I’m always saying the manga isn’t that dark, but this is honestly the one exception where I would freaking love for it to get dark as shit. anyway so yeah. if you want to fuck with people you really couldn’t ask for a better quirk.

9. Creation (Momo)

MACGUYVER: THE QUIRK. an unlimited inventory in the hands of someone brilliant enough to actually utilize it to its full extent. what’s not to love? honestly if it were me with this quirk it would be completely useless. not only would I get hopelessly bored two seconds into trying to memorize an object’s molecular structure or whatever, but even if I DID manage to figure out how to make stuff, I would never know what to do with the stuff, or when to use it. every time a new situation cropped up I would just create a bunch of random objects in a panic. but Momo is so elegant in her problem-solving that she often needs to create only one or two things to come up with the perfect solution for something. basically this is a good quirk that becomes a truly great quirk when placed in the hands of the best possible person in the world to wield it. the quirk is awesome because Momo is awesome, and I fucking adore quirks like that (see: next entry).

8. Permeation (Mirio)

ah, Mirio. the original victim of the “too powerful to be allowed” curse. remember that time he BEAT HALF OF CLASS 1-A IN UNDER SIX SECONDS, you guys.  small wonder Horikoshi couldn’t even make it through one complete villain fight with him before he had to de-quirk the poor kid. anyway, so Mirio makes this quirk look so mind-blowingly awesome that it’s easy to forget what a terrifying and fucked-up power it is in reality. “yeah it makes me blind and deaf and if I’m not careful I’ll fall into the center of the earth or splice myself in two or some shit.” what the actual fuck Mirio. but because he’s worked so hard and because Nighteye trained him so well, he’s mastered the timing to such an insane degree that he could kick Overhaul in the face without harming a single hair on Eri’s body. and honestly, there’s no way I could not love a quirk that gave us a moment like that.

7. Warp Gate (Kurogiri)

unlike SOME OTHER PEOPLE whose names start with Kuro, I would bet you that Kurogiri’s Appearing Out of Nowhere skills are a full six out of six! alas, the top ten of this list is chock full of people whose quirks are so badass that they had to be written out of the story one way or another. with Kuro at large there was technically nothing stopping the villains from just dropping in on U.A. one night to kill All Might, or rekidnap Bakugou, or whatever else they might want to do. and that’s actually a really scary thought though lol so it’s no wonder that Horikoshi was all, “yeah I’ll just have them capture him now.” anyways do you guys remember that one time in chapter 18 when Kuro used Warp Gate to create an endless loop of All Might suplexing Noumu suplexing All Might?? fucking quirks, though. wild.

6. Fiber Master (Best Jeanist)

another badass quirk, another badass quirk-user incapacitated and taken out of the story before their time. Best Jeanist is honestly terrifying. if he wanted to he could immobilize and even strangle and kill pretty much anyone in the world, whenever he fucking felt like it. that alone would be crazy enough, but then add to that that this quirk for all intents and purposes is basically telekinesis. as long as someone is wearing clothing he can move them around however he wants, as we saw in Kamino. basically, everything Hawks can do with Fierce Wings, Jeanist can probably do with his own quirk. AND THAT INCLUDES FLYING, YOU GUYS. the more I think about it the more I think we truly were robbed. I need Jeanist to come back already and fly everyone at Jakku to safety and tie Tomura to a chair with his own cape before proceeding to style his hair.

5. Rewind (Eri)

IT’S MY LIST!! I CAN PUT WHATEVER I WANT, AND IF YOU SAY I CAN’T, I’M TELLING MOM. okay but listen. everyone always rags on this quirk and how stupidly powerful it is, and look, I get it. but isn’t it kind of interesting that everyone is also always speculating over who Eri is eventually going to heal with her quirk? like, fandom is always complaining about how broken it is but at the same time they’re out here hatching all of these wild theories that center around it. and to me that indicates that in truth, this is actually an awesome quirk -- just so long as it’s used right. obviously there have to be some major limitations or else this is just “Fix Everything: The Quirk.” thankfully, Horikoshi did limit it! it’s super dangerous, she has trouble controlling it, and most importantly, it’s ridiculously slow to recharge and so she can only use it once every few months. it’s basically Recovery Girl’s quirk with a bonus slow-replenishing stamina bar that, once charged, allows her to release one ultra-powerful SUPER HEAL special move. and that’s pretty awesome. basically I think this quirk gets too much hate and not enough credit for the additional menu options it adds to the story. it’s interesting and compelling and I can’t wait to see what Horikoshi does with it.

4. Dark Shadow (Tokoyami)

TOKOYAMI WHY IS YOUR QUIRK SENTIENT. Existential Crisis: The Quirk. do quirks have souls?? if you shot Tokoyami with a quirk-be-gone bullet would Dark Shadow fucking die??? if Tomura absorbed Tokoyami’s quirk would Dark Shadow grow out of his back and be all “hey um, who the fuck are you”?? and would Toko’s head turn back into a normal human boy head?? would Dark Shadow look like Tomura instead of a bird shadow?? what even IS Dark Shadow, actually?? obviously it is not just a shadow because shadows can’t punch people or shield people from attacks or pick people up and fly them around. but yet he’s afraid of fire and grows weaker in daylight?? is Tokoyami secretly the strongest character in the entire series?? is there any way I can possibly justify putting this quirk all the way down at #4 instead of #1 where it clearly belongs?? let me answer that question by not answering it and moving on.

3. Explosion (Bakugou)

is the fix in?? is “exploding hands” really a better quirk than a fucking sentient monster man who lives in your belly button and reads your mind and is made of ~darkness energy~ and is your best friend? apparently the answer is yes! to both of those questions. yes the fix is in. I love Kacchan and his quirk is fucking awesome okay. it just never ceases to amaze me how this one single quirk, which really only does one thing, is nonetheless so spectacularly powerful that it allows Bakugou to compete on the same level as the fucking protagonist with all of his godlike super-strength and Main Character Powers and wacky SIXQUIRKS!! shenanigans. in my opinion the coolest thing about Explosion isn’t even its firepower; it’s the way Bakugou’s adapted it to fly around and to boost his speed. I think he legit may be the fastest character in the series right now, or close to it. he’s faster than Iida and Gran Torino and Endeavor. he can keep up with Deku without breaking a sweat. and he knows how to use that speed, thanks to his insane reflexes. add in the fact that this is also without a doubt the most cinematic quirk in the entire series, and I think I’m justified in putting it this high up. and anyway I still put two others up above it so shh.

2. Search (Ragdoll/Tomura)

Hey, What’s That Guy’s Deal: The Quirk. I just really love this one you guys. it’s so fucking useful. Video Game HUD: The Quirk. one hundred people at a time?? locations and weak points?? works even when you’re not looking at the person anymore and have blinked your eyes, unlike CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE’S weak-ass quirks?? check, check, and check. is it any wonder AFO wanted this? plus it just looks so damn cool. the visual representation of everyone as little stars on a map. Turn On Location: The Quirk. okay look I feel like I’m doing a bad job of explaining why I have this quirk all the way up at number two. it just has this subtle badassness to it, and its introduction after almost two hundred chapters of buildup was just so fucking cool. maybe it’s recency bias?? I don’t even know; all I know is that I love this quirk and want to see more of it in action.

1. Blackwhip (Lariat/Deku)

listen, I was obsessed with this quirk back when it was called “Venom” and was by far the absolute coolest part of the 1990s Spider-Man cartoon series. I’m not just going to suddenly not be obsessed with it just because fandom is mad that Horikoshi gave Deku an additional power beyond just Smashing Stuff. Blackwhip is hands down the coolest quirk, guys. I’m sorry, it just is. it has the coolest name. it had the coolest entrance. it does basically anything you could ever want a quirk to do in battle. it grabs stuff. it Bloops. what more do you want. you’re all just jealous because you wish that you could Bloop too. I know I am. I wish I had a Bloop. anyway so yeah, Blackwhip is the upgrade to Deku’s fighting style that we desperately needed after 200+ chapters of Delaware Smashes and Broken Bones. all his fights are cooler now. he can save more people! he can fight without instantly dying! plus you just gotta love powers that occasionally explode out of control if their user gets all emotional and pissed off about the fact that you insulted his boyfriend. so yeah. Blackwhip at number one! on this list of favorite quirks. not best quirks!! jesus christ. please don’t kill me I have a family.

 so that’s my list! all 3000 words of it. how does this keep happening.

[skygirl5]

12 Prompts of Christmas - #10 Santa

TEN - Santa

 Standing on the New York City sidewalks wearing jeans and an oversized red Santa coat, Richard Castle gathered together the group of pre-teens trailing behind him and lined them up against the side of the building to address them. They were all festively dressed in some way: one girl had a headband that also mimicked elf ears, another had a hair clip fashioned out of a Christmas wrap bow, and a third wore a festive sweater beneath her purple coat. Rick’s own child was fully decked out with a green ribbon in her hair, Christmas tree shaped earrings, and bells tied onto her shoes with red ribbons.

Smiling down at them, he asked, “Okay ladies, are we ready?”

“Yeah!” they chorused back to him.

“Great. Then we’re all ready to go but remember: stay close to me while we’re inside. You wouldn’t want someone to accidentally think you’re a police officer,” he told them with a dramatic wink.

“Dad,” his daughter, Alexis, groaned.

Rick held up a finger signaling for her to hold on a moment. Then, he donned his red Santa hat and from his pocket he pulled out a white fake beard which he hooked on using loops that went over his ears. Once it was in place, he reminded her, “Not Dad—Santa.”

Now fully outfitted, Rick led the parade of kids into the police station, proud he was getting to spend his afternoon not only helping the hard-working members of the NYPD, but also teaching impressionable young girls an important lesson about giving back and being kind.

Inside the police station Rick walked up to the welcome desk and pleasantly said, “Good afternoon.”

The cop at the desk eyed him a bit suspiciously and asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I called ahead. Richard Castle. The elves and I are here to deliver Christmas cards to the brave officers of the NYPD,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing towards the four girls clustered around him, who each held a shopping bag filled with goodies.

Now smiling, the female officer nodded and reached for the telephone on her desk. “Ah, right. Hold on, I’ll call an escort for you.”

“Thank you very much.”

The group waited patiently for about five minutes before a woman dressed in a black business suit approached them and asked, “Hi, I’m Denise from PR; are you from Spenser Academy?”

“That’s us!” one of the girls exclaimed.

The woman smiled at her, then addressed the group as a whole, “Well on behalf of the NYPD I’d like to thank you for your generous gifts. What have you brought us today?”

“We have about three dozen holiday cards and some handmade ornaments and decorations to hang up if that’s okay,” Rick said to Denise.

“Absolutely! We appreciate everything you’re willing to give to us. Let’s go to the third floor, okay? they haven’t had any Christmas visitors yet.”

“Have you had many other schools visit this year?” Rick asked as they shuffled their way towards the elevator. He knew there were several other groups from Alexis’s grade as well as the one above hers participating in the holiday cheer project, though some were donating décor and cards to fire stations and hospitals as well as the NYPD. He also believed other private schools in the city were participating in similar projects.

“Just one other one here so far, but I’ve had several others at other precincts.”

“That’s nice. It’s such an important time of year to give back.”

“I agree. You’re a teacher at the school?”

Rick checked and put his hand on Alexis’s shoulder. “No, no—parent volunteer. This is my daughter, Alexis.”

“Hi,” the young redhead said demurely.

Denise smiled down at her. “Hello. Well, we do appreciate your time.”

Rick nodded in appreciation. He had always enjoyed volunteering at Alexis’s school and never really thought of it as a chore or even an obligation. As someone who loved children, he found it a joy. Plus, as his career enabled him to be both a full-time writer and a full-time stay-at-home Dad, he always felt a duty to volunteer for what he could because he knew that many of Alexis’s classmates had two working parents, and it was not always possible for them to chaperone field trips or organize bake sales like he could.

When the elevator’s doors opened again and Denise led the way out into the hall, Rick asked her, “What department is this?”

“The homicide division.”

“Ah,” Rick said hesitantly. While he wouldn’t have minded poking around that floor, he wasn’t sure it was entirely appropriate for ten- and eleven-year-old girls. Nevertheless, their visit was not intended to be a long one, so he stepped forward and turned so he could address his group. “Well, okay ladies, here we go. How about…Paige and Hannah hand out the cards while Alexis, Ryder, and I hang up some decorations, okay?”

Their girls swapped their shopping bags around to match up with Rick’s duty assignments and then the two with the holiday cards scampered off. Meanwhile, Denise directed Rick and the remaining two girls to a room centrally located on the floor. “You can hang your decorations here in the break room.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” Rick said to her and led the way inside the room. It was empty save for an officer talking on a cell phone, who walked out the opposite door when they entered. Rick led the girls over to one of the tables in the room and they opened up their shopping bags and began to unload the decorations. From the bag he carried, Rick pulled out a few rolls of tape. He handed one to Ryder and told her to hang up the snowflake decorations they had on the break room windows. Then, he turned to his daughter and asked, “Do you want to hang up the snowmen?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s put some on the cabinets,” she said, pointing towards the kitchenette in the room which had a sink along with a counter that had a coffee maker, toaster oven, and microwave. Off to the side was a refrigerator, all of which was surrounded by cabinets.

“Sounds good.”

Alexis put a snowman centrally located on each of the doors to the bottom row of cabinets. Then Rick brought a chair over from one of the tables so she could climb up on it and reach the upper cabinets. She was still too short, though, so he had to help hang the last row of snowmen.

He was about halfway done when he heard the breakroom door swing open and a female’s voice say, “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone else was in here.”

“Yep, sorry; we’ll be done in a minute,” Rick said as he struggled to get the sticky tape out of the dispenser.

“We’re decorating!” Alexis said.

“I can see that,” said the female voice.

With the last snowman tacked into place, Rick stepped back, helped his daughter off the chair, then quickly grabbed it so it was not in the way if the woman wanted to access the kitchenette counter. “Sorry about that,” he said again, only glancing briefly in her direction, “Alexis, what else do you want to hang up?”

“Let’s put the stars on the refrigerator,” she suggested.

Rick hesitated and glanced over his shoulder to see what the woman was doing. When he saw her at the coffee pot, he agreed with, “Okay, but let’s make sure not to stand in this nice lady’s way.”

“Oh, it’s fine; I don’t need to get into the fridge,” she assured them. With her mug now full of coffee, she turned to face them and Rick finally met her eye. Immediately, he felt like he’d been smacked in the chest. Her face…he knew her face, but from where?

“Are you a police officer?” Alexis asked the woman as she hung up the stars.

“A detective, actually.”

“Ohh!! I’m in fifth grade, but I might want to be a detective when I grow up—a private detective, just like Sherlock Holms!”

“Oh wow, that’s neat!” the detective said.

“Santa, I finished hanging the snowflakes. Santa? Santa!”

“Wha—oh, sorry Ryder,” Rick apologized, when Ryder tugged on the sleeve of his coat. He’d been too busy staring at the female detective wondering where he’d seen her before. “What do you want to hang up next?”

“Um…maybe some of the garland chain along that window ledge?”

“Sure thing.” Rick walked over to the shopping bags and pulled out the long chain of “garland” the girls had made, which consisted of round circles of alternating light and green construction paper all stapled together to form a chain. “Alexis why don’t you come and help Ryder once you’re done with those stars?”

“Okay, Da—Santa!” She grinned at him then ran past him to help her schoolmate.

When Rick turned back around, he was pleasantly surprised to see the female detective was still in the breakroom, eyeing him curiously. “Sorry, ah, this is our first year as a decorating committee; we’re a little rough around the edges.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I think what you’re doing is really nice. Are you…are you also associated with the two girls running around giving away Christmas cards?”

The writer frowned behind his Santa beard. “Oh no are they running? I told them not to run.”

She laughed and said, “It’s fine,” but the words barely registered in his mind because with her laugh came the solid recognition he’d been seeking. Yes, he definitely recognized her, but he could hardly believe it was her—her—the woman he’d encountered so briefly their interaction felt more like a dream.

So caught up by the sudden recognition, Rick failed to realize he’d gasped, “Oh—it’s you!” out loud until her brow wrinkled and she asked, “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, sorry. I mean—you’re Kate, aren’t you?”

Her brow crinkled further. “Do we know each other?”

“Yea—oh, sorry. Crap! Sorry!” he grunted as he tried to strip off his fake beard and hat, which until that moment he had forgotten that he was wearing. No wonder she didn’t recognize him!

With his face fully exposed her confused expression melted into one of surprise. “Oh! Rick. H-hi.”

“Hi,” he echoed, his grin a bit dopey. Once again, he had run into this mysterious, beautiful woman by chance and he could not say he was remotely disappointed about it. Since they’d first met, five Decembers prior, he’d thought about her occasionally over the years, mostly over the holidays, but occasionally during trips out to his beach house since the water combined with the vacation atmosphere connected it and the lake cabin in his mind. He’d never gotten to the point of actually trying to find her, but he’d thought about it several times. Now, it appeared fate was nudging him and he wasn’t going to deny it.

“We’re done!”

His daughter announcing the completion of their task pulled Rick back to the present and he stammered a bit. “Oh, um, ah, yeah—is there anything left to hang up, girls?”

“No,” Alexis said. She gazed around the room and frowned slightly, adding, “I guess we didn’t have that much to decorate with.”

“Oh no—I think it looks much more festive in here,” Kate chimed in.

Rick gave her a grateful expression then turned back to the girls. “Okay, ladies, why don’t you gather up the bags and tape dispensers and then let’s go find the others, okay?”

“Thank you for decorating our break room,” Kate said to them before heading towards the door. Before she could open it, Rick stepped towards her.

“Wait! I mean, um, how are you?”

Looking slightly amused she said, “I’m okay, how are you?”

“Good, good. Um, I was just…well, wondering if I might be able to take you out for coffee and, um, pick your brain a little bit about the NYPD. Always doing research,” he confessed with a little shrug. In reality his heart was racing, and he felt like a teenager again. God, what was he doing? He wasn’t even trying to ask her out on a date as his romantic situation was…complicated…at present.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “If I recall correctly: you already did that.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “But you weren’t a detective then.”

She chuckled lightly and then waited about seven seconds before agreeing, “Okay, sure. Coffee.”

“Great!” Rick said, elated. He fumbled for a moment, trying to get his wallet out of his back pocket when the bulky Santa coat hung down over it, but he managed. Then he handed her a business card and said, “Call me, please? we’ll set something up.”

She took the card with a nod. By that time, the girls had collected their bags and had joined them at the breakroom door, so Kate pushed it open and let them all walk out. As they did so, Alexis wished her a merry Christmas and she reciprocated with, “Merry Christmas to you, too; and thanks again for the decorations.”

“You’re welcome!” Alexis said cheerfully.

After giving Rick a head nod, Kate walked off. He watched her disappear into the crowd of her coworkers until the high-pitched squeal of a ten-year-old girl drew his attention and he knew he needed to get back into chaperone-mode before the girls caused too much more chaos for the homicide floor.

[ramblingkat]

Fic: Storm(Bleach)

UraIchi discord is a terrible place if you are trying to hide from plunnies. 

Look, a coffee shop and a writer AU, all in one. My shame is out for all to see. There is a lot more of this to come as well. 

Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Urahara Kisuke, Unagiya Ikumi

***

Shutting his book, Ichigo rubbed his eyes and sat up, back popping.

Okay, enough of that. Time to take a bit of a break. College was fun at times, but it was also a lot of work. Which was why this job was such a good thing to have. 

Yeah, Ichigo worked a weird little night shift. It never seemed busy enough to justify staying open, but he wasn’t going to argue. It was pretty much the perfect time to work with his schedule of school and actually getting a chance to see his friends. Which was needed. Tatsuki and Ishida’s mockery was sometimes the only thing that got him out of his fog of English words and books. 

As he stretched a bit, Ichigo let his eyes roam the shop. There was only one person in the place, the scruffy blond man who came in regularly. He had been sitting in one of the corner tables, worn clothing still damp from the rain that had started to drizzle down not long before the man came in. 

His battered bag was on the ground next to him, strap looped around the arm of the chair he was in to secure it. On the table was the ugliest hat Ichigo had seen in a while, green and white, tattered on the edges. Next to it was a notebook, which Ichigo knew was full of some sort of scribbles. Ichigo was really curious about what they were about. He had a glimpse inside a few times while cleaning up. Sometimes there were notes, writing neat and in a language he didn’t recognize. Sometimes there were sketches, drawings and blueprints of things, neatly labeled.

When Ichigo had glanced up earlier, the man had been holding the cup of coffee he had bought, eyes shut, almost asleep. Though the noise of Ichigo setting his book down had brought the man’s head up, and he blinked at Ichigo. Then he gave Ichigo a smile and took a sip of the coffee. 

 Given the look of betrayal he gave the cup, Ichigo assumed that the coffee had gotten cold enough to be unpleasant. Since the guy had paid for the first cup with change scrambled out of his pocket, Ichigo assumed that he didn’t have enough for a second cup. 

But even across the room, he could see the shiver that ran through the man’s shoulder, and that tugged at Ichigo’s heart. As much as he liked to pretend that he didn’t have one. 

Since the guy was his only customer in hours, Ichigo knew what the man’s order was. So he remade it. 

When he set it down in front of the guy, Ichigo got to see the man’s eyes were grey for the first time. Usually, they were shaded by the guy’s hat and Ichigo couldn’t see them all that clearly. 

Though without the hat, blond hair was starting to fluff as it dried, and pale eyes were wide as the guy looked at Ichigo, Ichigo had a realization that the guy was hot. 

“On the house,” he said, and retreating rapidly. Was he blushing? Ichigo was sure he was blushing. That was horrifying. He just realized the homeless guy that hung around at the shop during the dark hours of the night was hot. Honestly, he wasn’t sure this could get worse. 

As if waiting for that phrase, there was a brilliant flash outside, and a rumble of thunder that was more sensation than sound. A second flash and sizzling pop followed and the power went out. 

Ichigo should have known better. He was an English Literature major. Why had he used the most cliche method of making things worse?

“I think the transformer exploded,” came a surprising voice, and Ichigo jolted as he realized that it was the customer. He scrambled from the man’s name. It was used from time to time when there was more than one customer at a time. 

Kisuke. A weird name, not one he had heard before. But it made it easier to recall than if he had some regular name. Still, the man was quiet, and other than some murmurs when he made his orders, Ichigo had never heard the guy talk much. 

There was a bit of a sigh from the other. “And no backup generator in here, it seems.” Kisuke tsked from the area his table was at. “I guess both of us are done with anything to do with reading or writing.”

Which annoyed Ichigo. He had a new book to read for fun, not one of his many books for class, and wanted to start that tonight. Yes, it was a trashy romance, but Ichigo didn’t care. It was a fun read, and there was a lot of interesting world building. And a great deal of smut, which was hilarious. Ichigo and Tatsuki had regular dramatic readings of the book for the entertainment of their YouTube followers. 

So the loss of power was really annoying. 

Pulling his phone, Ichigo texted the number they had been given to pass on the message of the power outage. Not that his boss could do much, but maybe she’d give Ichigo permission to shut down. Though it might take a bit to find out. 

“So, Ichigo-san, you seem to be reading a lot of books in English,” Kisuke said, apparently deciding that the silence was something to break. Ichigo had a moment of wondering how the man knew his name, but then remembered he had a nametag on. “College?”

Ichigo nodded, glancing to where Kisuke was sitting. His eyes were starting to adjust to the dim light from the city glow. Even if their section was offline, there was plenty of areas that were still lit up. Otherwise, he’d have the flashlight on his phone turned on. But he realized that it was still dim enough that Kisuke might not have seen the nod. “Yeah,” he said, feeling a bit awkward about having a such a normal conversation in the dark.

“English is an interesting language,” the blond said, switching to the language with an ease that spoke of practice. 

Ichigo could understand what he was saying and was pretty impressed. To have so little accent was something that was one of Ichigo’s goals for his own English speaking. No reason not to practice now, since he couldn’t do anything else at the moment. 

“Yes, though the way they structure their sentences is odd.” He took his time, making sure he had the words and the grammar correct. But he was pleased with how he sounded. 

There was a slash of brighter color from where Kisuke sat, the other obviously smiling in the faint light.

Another flash and rumbled, and even the dim light from outside faded as the sky opened up and rain poured down. Both men looked out, and then Ichigo yelped as his phone trilled. Fumbling it, aware he was blushing as Kisuke chuckled at him, Ichigo saw that it was Unagiya giving him a call back. 

Moving back to the counter, he answered it. “Hey,” he said, leaning against the counter as he watched the rain come down outside. It was soaking wet out there, and he was glad he had brought his umbrella today. Yuzu had called and insisted, and the thought of his sister made him smile, just a little. He’d have to say thank you when he talked to her later. 

“Lock up and go home,” his boss said. “The storm has half the city blacked out, so it’ll be while before it comes back on.” She sighed. “I’ll go through and clean up in the morning, toss the stuff that needed to stay cold. No need to try it in the dark.”

Ichigo glanced at Kisuke, then outside, frowning a bit. “All right. I can come in early tomorrow and help with any clean up if you need me to.” Because as much as they bickered, he liked his boss. Even if she was insane when her kid showed up. 

She snorted on the other side of the line. “Go home and sleep for once. I’ll see you are your regular time.”

Then she hung up, and Ichigo rolled his eyes. Blunt as always. Putting his phone way, Ichigo glanced where Kisuke had been sitting.

Only to yelp again as he realized the man was standing just outside of arms reach, hat in place and bag looped over his shoulder. 

Kisuke was close enough now that Ichigo would clearly see the shit eating grin on his face. “I assume you’ll be closing now,” the blond said cheerfully. “I hope you have a good night and a safe trip home, Ichigo-san.”

Huffing a bit at the man, Ichigo glanced outside again. “I will. Can I walk you anywhere? I have an umbrella….”

His voice trailed off, and he looked at Kisuke. The smile had faded, and he realized that Kisuke was studying him. Then the smile curled across Kisuke’s face again, softer and calmer as the man seemed happy at the offer. 

“Ah, I will fine.” Kisuke shifted so his bag was secure. “Though I appreciate your kindness.” He held up the coffee that Ichigo had just given him, and then moved, ignoring Ichigo’s startled protest as he managed to get to the door and then out, without even running into any of the chairs or tables. 

Ichigo grimaced. The guy was going to get soaked. 

He wondered if Kisuke even had dry stuff to change into.

Hopefully. 

Ichigo made a note to get him a free drink the next time he showed up. 

Because it was the right thing to do. Not because of the way Kisuke had smiled when holding the cup before leaving. 

Ichigo really needed to get better at lying to himself, honestly. With a sigh, he started to lock things up and head out. Something to consider later.

[legobiwan]

Whumptober #5

“on the run”

Notes: Yes, I’m a day behind, I’m hoping to post a second story tonight but let’s see where life goes. This story...I started out with an idea, and then that idea went in a very different direction as I started writing. RotS AU.

General Whumptober tag

Whumptober 2020 #1

Whumptober 2020 #2

Whumptober 2020 #3

Whumptober 2020 #4

~~~~~~

If you were here, Qui-gon…

Right. If you were here you’d probably shackle me up - wrists tightly enclosed in Force-dampening binders, restraining collar around my neck. Your harsh words would be an invisible whip against my true skin, your touch too soft for a monster such as I, pleading almost, far too kind than what I deserve for my crimes.

You would do all this, Qui-gon, your eyes dark with disappointment, letting no other man or soldier or droid handle me except yourself. Your failure of a Padawan trussed up like a common criminal (common? Perhaps not.), signed, sealed, and delivered personally back to Coruscant for my trial and probable execution.

And you would be right to do so, Qui-gon. So, so right. Force, part of me wishes you could swoop down right now, take me in your arms, the last friendly touch I would ever know before you placed my body on the electroguillotine’s platform to the cheers of the Senate, to the stony facades of the Jedi Council. One last bit of kindness, your hand on my cheek, before the killing blade would deliver me from my sins, before this would all just be over.

After all, it’s not every day a member of the Jedi High Council assassinates the Chancellor of the Republic on live holofeed.

Their faces Qui-gon, the way the Force shifted like two ancient, tectonic masses, colliding as Palaptine - or should I say Sidious - fell from his lofty perch, body plunging, down, down, down until it hit the subterranean floor of the Senate chamber with a sickening, exhilarating thud.

The similarities to my subterfuge as Rako Hardeen were not unmarked, believe me, Qui-gon. Palpatine, however, unlike myself, continues to be dead, two neat holes placed through the side of his treacherous head.

I feel, perhaps, that I have forsaken myself.

But you weren’t there, Master, you didn’t watch through thin slits of wavering consciousness, of azure and crimson rainbows, of the sneaking tar of decay that oozed forth from the man who would lead - would conquer - the Republic and the Jedi. You weren’t there as your Padawan - your friend and brother, the boy you so cared for (more than myself, I can now admit). As Anakin brought the two blades together at Dooku’s neck, executioner of a death sentence signed in familiar large, looping letters - “Sheev Palpatine, Chancellor of the Republic.”

It was him, Qui-gon. The Sith Lord was right there, the entire time, one hand on Anakin’s shoulder, leading him to perdition.

And I did nothing to stop it.

Nothing, until now.

Perhaps if I had been the one to perish on Naboo…perhaps none of this would have ever happened. But that is another world lost to another time, and the ‘here and now,’ as you would say, consists of a cold storage closet in the rear of a Rodian smuggler’s ship.

Three days I’ve been cramped in this space, my passage paid with the frozen Twi’lek guard lying at my feet, legs bent at unnatural, backward angles, the trickle of blood dripping from their nose now an ugly, improvised tattoo.

It’s cold, Qui-gon. A blessing, in some ways, as my departed friend here is unlikely to suffer the worst effects of putrefaction, but I feel even if I were to be on the sunny beaches of Scarif, I would still shiver at my own conscience.

I am tired, Qui-gon.

~~~

You visited me in my dreams last night, Qui-gon.

Neither the avenging angel of death nor the soft shepherd of comfort, you stood, distant, enigmatic as a Loth-Sphinx, as distant and maddening as you had been in life.

I suppose this should have come as no surprise.

Why? You asked me.

Why what, Qui-gon? Why did I kill Palpatine, why did I run, why did I make a fool’s promise to you all those years ago?

As to the last question, I believe - well, perhaps not believe, but fervently hope - you know the answer already.

To answer the others - what choice did I have? To witness what I had, to know Anakin was in thrall to this…this thing, that I would never convince him of Palpatine’s true intentions, that I had lost any trust, any esteem he may have still had for me with my own betrayals -

It was all happening too fast, Qui-gon. The situation on Mandalore, the battle on Coruscant, Dooku’s death. I briefly confided in Bail Organa, the Senator from Alderaan, hinted at my actions in regards to the Mandalore situation, on the way to Coruscant. He told me in no uncertain terms that the Senate would be forced to bring down charges of insurrection, even possibly treason, once they learned of my manipulations of the GAR.

What was one more charge, on top of the others, I thought.

It…it’s better this way, Qui-gon. The Jedi, while still under suspicion, have an obvious and convenient scapegoat, a Council member gone rogue, the underground actor fanning the flames of rumors of a coup. Anakin, while unstable, is at least now out of his orbit. Whether he stays in the Order or leaves, I cannot say, but I hope for his sake - and his unborn child’s - he leaves.

Don’t you see, Qui-gon? The only one who must suffer here is me and I will do so gladly.

Ah, but why not turn myself in, you ask. The deed is done, why run from my actions?

The Twi’lek’s crimson lividity has given way to a more pale ochre, abdomen swollen and nauseated. While the cold has stalled this inevitable process, I must confess to being a bit wary of my companion’s stability.

One more night, and we shall reach Mandalore.

I remain here, discomfited bunkmate to the dead, while Cody and his men span the galaxy, hunting for the wayward Jedi - the turncoat, the traitor, the aruetii…

But you see, Qui-gon, as the galaxy turns its eye on me, it distances its gaze from the Order, from the Council’s machinations.

If I had not acted, someone else would have - with far more dire consequences, I fear.

We spoke of it, you know. Taking over the government, stripping Palpatine of his power (and how laughable a notion that is, to strip a Sith Lord of their edged fury. Impossible to achieve without bloodshed.) It’s not that we wanted to usurp the government - even within the Council itself, there was strong dissent to even considering this notion.

Mace would have gladly fallen on his lightsaber to see justice served. As would Kit. And Plo. And possibly Master Yoda.

But their souls were clean.

Mine, on the other hand…

It’s late Qui-gon, and I fear tomorrow will be an unpleasant day.

~~~

You once said, Qui-gon, that upon finding a confluence of paths, there is no correct direction, that, in the end, there was only a decision, and the consequences thereof.

I find myself in such a place.

It seems the news of my actions reached Mandalore before I did, the civil war now at an uneasy pause, Maul neutered (and what does that say about me, that I could not achieve this victory when Ahsoka could? Perhaps I am too close, too near that fault line to act as she could.)

But they do not know, Qui-gon, what I do. Ahsoka may look on in muted fury, Rex dipping his head as he comms Cody, his only words a soft we have him, Bo-Katan radiant with indignation - why could you have not done this before?

Before we both lost her, before Satine’s legacy was burnt to the ground, before it came to this.

They wrap me in cords and shackles and the best Jedi restraints Mandalore has to offer, dumping me in the same containment cell as him, who takes one look at my sorry state, who knows what sins are written on my soul.

Maul throws back his head, and cackles, the sound of a hundred broken mirrors.

They only have one, he says.

He doesn’t need to explain further.

The Mandalorian sarcophagus. We both saw it, that first time on Mandalore, Satine’s cheeks turning pink, then red, as she explained the true purpose of the monstrous devices.

We would never use them now, she said. There’s no need.

We can only hope, you answered.

And now, it is a question of who is the greater monster - the being born of blood and violence, or the one who accepted it into his heart.

He would have been his new apprentice, Maul drawls, with a sick smile.

I know, I answer. I do know, don’t I? Knew this entire time and yet could do nothing to stop it - until now.

Will you accept your fate, Kenobi? Be hauled back to Coruscant in chains, your allies grinning as your head falls from the blade?

I should. Damnit, I should, Qui-gon! I am a Jedi, I do not fear death, for there is only the Force.

And yet…

~~~

We are leaving, Qui-gon, Maul and I. To what end, I cannot say. Do not fear for me, Master of mine. I am long corrupted, past redemption in this life and can only hope to use my darkness for an ultimate good.

There is much to be done.

May I feel your soft hand on my cheek one more time, Qui-gon, if only in my dreams.

Please forgive me.

I am sorry.

Yours in this life and the next,

Obi-wan Kenobi.

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 11: Ultracrepidarian

I don’t know what crypt moen had to delve into to rummage through the bones of a dead language to find this word, but I do appreciate the challenge it presented. Have Serella snarking at a guy who just can’t take the hint, and have some friendship with Aymeric and Haurchefant thrown in for good measure.

Word count: 1,161

Would that there were more hours in the day, Aymeric might have had more time outside of his duties to do as he liked. Half a dozen different inspections, nearly two dozen missives and orders to sign off on, and three meetings had filled his morning and the better part of the afternoon, and he felt every onze of energy he had spent press against his shoulders, attempting to force him out of his good posture in exhaustion. He refused to not march with a decisive spring in his step, however— his work concluded, he had invited Haurchefant and Serella over for tea and conversation, after all. It had been so long since he had hosted friends at his house, he could not help but be just a bit giddy at the notion of stopping at the Crozier to replenish his tea stock for their afternoon.

Haurchefant and Serella had provided lively conversation as they went, both insisting that he was no bother for stopping at the Crozier and that he could take his time perusing the shop. It was something of a comfort, simply enjoying an outing with people that he cared deeply for, and those who went out of their way to return that care in kind to him. Flanked by Serella leaned against the wall to one side, calmly reading her book (one of his recommendations, he noted with a thrill,) and Haurchefant close enough to his other side that they sometimes brushed when Haurchefant would move to gesture at a display or turn to speak with him, Aymeric could not help but be reminded of what it was to have family again, despite his best efforts to bury his heart.

“Ah, fancy meeting you here, Mistress Arcbane!” A tinny, raspy voice called.

From the edge of his vision, Aymeric watched Serella purse her lips from behind her book, hand subtly gripping it tighter. This must not be new, then, he mused sadly.

“Hoo boy.” Haurchefant whispered conspiratorially, practically pressed bodily against him, seemingly ignorant of the flush he inspired. “Her most persistent pursuer, though ‘tis no secret he vies only for prestige.”

Aymeric finished his order, and as they waited for the shopkeep to pour and measure the tea leaves, he and Haurchefant shifted some few steps to the pick-up counter. Haurchefant unabashedly and blatantly observed the encounter, despite Aymeric elbowing him in the ribs with a hiss to be respectful.

“Really, I owe you my humblest apologies.” Said the man— a lordling of House Durendaire, tall, handsome, and plush from a life free from struggle. “When last we tried to engage in conversation, I realized I was attempting to engage you on topics of discussion that were less interesting to an imprudent woman such as yourself!”

That inspired a flat, unimpressed look from over the edge of her book. While not one to let something so disrespectful lie, Aymeric felt Haurchefant’s hand on his elbow, and a glance in his direction earned him a brilliant smile and the mouthed word, “Watch.” Turning his gaze back to the scene before them, it was hard not to see why his friend was so keen on waiting: the longer she silently stared down the man, the more he fidgeted to hide his discomfort.

“I sincerely hope you just don’t know what that word means.” Serella replied coolly.

“Why, of course I do!” He enthusiastically doubled down, a beaming smile clearly hiding his newfound uncertainty. “I mean it as a compliment! I mean that you’re passionate and clever!”

“Of course you do.” Serella said in a tone saturated with pity, and returned to her book.

“What I mean, rather,” The noble stammered. “Is that we should not have spoken of Ishgardian history, but of swords!”

“...Swords.” She repeated slowly, testing the word as she turned a page.

“Oh, this poor sod.” Haurchefant muttered, voice strained with the effort of not laughing. “I think this might be the day. She might actually rob him of the will to live.”

“Indeed! Swords!” With a flourish, the man struck a pose to flaunt his sheathed blade. “What more common a ground could soldiers such as us have than to discuss our tools of war!”

Another glance from her pages, sharp, discerning, honed on his hands. Soft, bereft of calluses, and very clearly having never wielded the damned thing in any serious capacity. He was no soldier, that much was clear.

“An ultracrepidarian through and through, then.” Serella tutted, and flipped to the next page.

“Your words flatter me, my lady!” The nobleman beamed, a hand over his heart. “Are you even aware of your beauty and radiance?”

“Not at all, my lord. My Da forbade mirrors in the house, lest we be overcome with vanity.” She said in mock solemnity.

“Oh, bless him.” Aymeric sighed under his breath, taking his order from the shopkeep and handing her his payment.

“I can’t breathe.” Haurchefant hissed, hands wrapped around his middle in a desperate effort to hold himself together. “Merciful Halone, man, take the hint—”

“I would invite you to my abode! Formally! That we might discuss swords and swordplay!” The young man, bless his soul, actually produced a sealed envelope with her name writ in neat, swooping cursive. “And I would present you with a letter stating my formal intent to ask for your hand!”

“You’ll have to forgive me, my lord.” Serella said without looking up from her book. “I can’t read.”

Beside him, Haurchefant made a noise akin to an asthmatic cat.

“Wh—” Ah, there it was. The first moment everything seemed to click into place for the man. His shoulders slumped slowly, his confidence deflating. “I…?”

“You’ll have to read your declaration aloud if you want a proper rejection.” With a sigh, she closed her book. “But please, I beg of you, for your own sake: don’t.” Dropping her book in the deep, cavernous maw that was the inner pocket of her cloak, she turned expectantly toward the two of them, both of whom by that point had been openly gawking at the exchange. “Are we all set? I’ve looked forward to this all week.”

She angled her head toward the door with a pleasant smile as though there was not a man standing across from her picking up the broken shards of his dignity. Aymeric was unsure of whether he wanted to ask her how often she had to let people down in such a manner.

“Aye, Mistress Arcbane.” He said in a teasing lilt, and collected the parcels of tea he purchased. “Shall we?”

The three of them stepped out of the shop together, Serella eagerly looping her arms around Aymeric’s and Haurchefant’s each in a friendly squeeze. They scarcely made it ten paces away from the shop before Haurchefant, at the end of his reserve of strength, broke down cackling. He didn’t stop even as Aymeric ushered them into his home with a goodnatured roll of his eyes.

[characteroulette]

GAME KIDS TIME for Dante Going Fuckin Berserk for the first time (cuz you sent it to me years ago and it's still sitting in my inbox lmao)

ohhhh nice! hahaha. I actually rewrote the whole beginning of that one night because I had the thought of "no, this needs more build up." because it used to just start with the kids in the Game, hearing the singing and then Dante popped.

(I also need to rewrite it again now that the kids are more Aware of Dante's trauma with Hell hahaha)

(here is a read more because I have more to say than I thought I would)

Then Dante's fire sparked up, a hotter and bigger flame. [...] They blasted Frank, Abraham, and Vektor straight out of the game and they hit Petel as he dove into the cover. The burns and the heat around him didn't cease, the waves rocketing out past the visible horizon in every direction.

I did my best to convey Inferno here and I still like it hahaha. getting the same 'fire fire fire' thing that'd probably be going through Dante's head is an interesting challenge, since we're in Petel's pov, but it worked out pretty okay?

There, in the middle of a scorched circle on the ground, was Dante, crumpled on the floor in a familiar way. Though, the only thing recognisable as Dante was the soft, wavy blond hair and the knowledge that Dante had been at the centre and cause of this. Dante's clothes had been torn and were now grey and all available skin Petel could see had been scorched charcoal black.

hey I really like writing character descriptions whoop. also, fun fact! Dante's Berserk aftermath is based off an Elsen (from the game OFF)! that's why he head asplode, actually.

"Why can't he utilise this power into a more constructive gain for us?" Vektor lamented loudly. Knowing Vektor, he was probably also waving his hands about and nearly knocking himself over from the movements. "Every time he shows any kind of prowess in his abilities, it's to our detriment. Every time! He's a jeopardy to the mission."

"Your mission." Abraham's voice came across as cool, but as annoyed as Petel was growing. "He made a mistake, it happens."

I just really still like this exchange, honestly. Abraham being the one to throw that back in Vektor's face was supposed to show his growth, but honestly Abraham is just really friendly and patient towards Dante ;w;

Finally, Dante said, "Sorry."

Petel's response was immediate. "It's okay."

"I-I got scared. And then. I couldn't stop it."

Petel gave it a moment of thought. Back to when all he could comprehend was teeth and claws and making sure every living thing in his vicinity was torn to shreds. He shrugged in the end. "It happens."

even now, EVEN NOW, Dante's still not being truthful about things. he just lies about the root cause of his Berserk because, to him, it's all Fear and Trauma wrapped up in a neat little package (named Orpheus and Hell, but no one would know that since they haven't seen Orpheus yet) and so he just tries to use his Excuse here in a desperate attempt to keep the others out of the loop still. Dante man what the fuck are you doing

One of the Gargoyles dove suddenly, aiming for Dante. Petel managed to claw its wing enough to redirect it, but it still nicked Dante's exposed arm. Dante's mouth opened, a half-formed scream not quite making it out, before his head exploded in a spray of black liquid and a column of black smoke spilled out of his neck. Petel and the two Gargoyles hesitated. For once, Petel sincerely hoped it was just that Dante had been killed, had been logged out of the game. "Uh. Paige?"

"What the hell is going on?" Her voice came over with a stronger terrified tone than she probably meant. "Dante's stats just rocketed up by a 400-times multiplier and he's got 5% health left and the computer's refusing to tell me why it's going mad like this."

The creature formerly Dante straightened itself up, now taller and with broader shoulders. The claws had grown and whiffs of black smoke drifted off their sharp tips with every slight movement, while Dante's legs had curled backwards and the clawed feet had become stumps, nearly hoof-like. A constant stream of black smoke and spurting blood oozed from the stump of Dante's neck. Petel had nothing better to say than a succinct, "Dante's head came off."

At this, the rest of the crew spoke in unison with Paige. "What?"

head asplode! god I love this scene a lot hahaha. the Gargoyles hesitating, like Petel, is meant to be significant! but Petel can't really pay attention to that right now since their friend's head just exploded. I struggled, also, for a long time on how much exactly to jack up Dante's stats and then went "fuck it, 400x is broken" and settled on that hahaha

Petel desperately wished he could explain it better, but his words were caught in the back of his throat and he knew that if he tried to force them out, all that he'd manage would be whimpering and whines. Dante grabbed the remaining Gargoyle as it tried to escape and tore its wings off, then tossed it away as it dissolved into code. Then the thing turned towards Petel.

Petel had no other instinct. His tail tucked, ears flattened against his head, and he ran.

[...]

Of course, Dante was right there behind him. It didn't seem like Dante could fit in the checkpoint or even get inside, but it didn't stop for a second. It slashed at the checkpoint with those sharp claws, making the structure shake and fizzle and actually damaging the thing. After a few slashes, Dante then dragged its claws along the ground, tossing up some sludge-like lava that splattered against the openings of the checkpoint but was kept out by some invisible force. The walls continued to shake and Petel whimpered quietly. "Paige. Paige, please."

Petel showing real fear!! also very good. also very significant. Dante's coding is so fucked up that it actually breaks some of Petel's coding, too. that Fear is just so palpable that it leaks out and infects those around it. (and also Dante's Warping is just That Bad hahaha, this is why he does his best to be careful all the time)

Frank frowned, slowly tilting his head to the side. "It'd be faster to force the log out, right?"

"What exactly is this risk factor?"

Abraham seemed hesitant to ask and Paige hesitated on answering. That was enough for Petel to figure out the rest. And it wasn't good. "He'd come out without a head. Wouldn't he?"

Paige cringed. Frank and Abraham's jaws dropped open. And Vektor, in fabulous Vektor fashion, rolled his eyes. "There's only a fifteen-point-eight percent chance that the system will mistake Dante's current form for his form on this plane of existence. The odds are in our favour."

"No."

Petel narrowed his eyes at Vektor and Vektor wilted under his glare. Paige twiddled with her fingers. Frank came out of his shock first, giving a strangled cry of outrage. "You'd risk Dante coming back headless and dead just to get him out a little quicker?"

Vektor gulped, voice unsteady. "Technically, he wouldn't be dead. The system would just mistake his current form for your reality." Vektor looked around at them expectantly, but Petel wouldn't budge. Not on this one. [...] Vektor puffed up again, getting huffy. "Look, if we did lose Inferno, why would it matter that much? He's of no great contribution to our mission, anyway."

"Your mission!" Petel growled and surged forward to grab the front of Vektor's suit coat. "Dante. Is not. Useless."

ahh, Vektor. (there's that line again whoooo) I have to rewrite all of this but I always want to show the disconnect between how Vektor treats Dante, because of his built-in muscle memory. Vektor doesn't even understand it himself, but he tends to treat Dante worse than the others just because it's what feels right in his programming.

the rest of this chapter is a lot of me getting the rest of the kids out so Paige and Petel can discuss exactly how Dante's Berserk works hahaha. man, I need to rewrite this...

Dante would get out. Things would be all right. They'd all find this very funny in a week or so. 'Hey, remember that time you went berserk and got trapped in the game for several hours? Wasn't that just a hoot?' 'Not as much as that time you ripped us all to shreds when you went berserk! Ah, how time flies.' They were good enough friends by this point, right?

Petel please what the fuck is this XD

anyway, yeah! those are my thoughts on this chapter as it is in beta form hahaha. the ending is basically Petel reaching a conclusion about his feelings towards Dante and that's why he just thinks of them as dating in the next one (which is also something I need to rework, aaaaaaa) but also showing off the trio as friends!! even though this thing is a couple years old by this point, I still like it a lot!

(sorry to everyone else hahaha if you're really curious about the whole chapter, here's the google doc of it. please don't make a mess of it ;; )

[forsakentoast]

Wildflower

Chapter 3- Basically plot part 2

As the sun rose in the sky, the heroes stirred from their slumber and began to filter out of their rooms, all with the exception of three. Laughter and a groan were heard from the room that housed the other three companions.

Wind was about to volunteer to see what was going on with the other three when Warriors came out of the room struggling to contain a fit of laughter.

“Baby faced boy!” before all other words were lost to laughter.

As the others rushed to the room, they were met with a concerned Hyrule speaking to a mass under the blankets.

“Wild, it’s not bad! Just come on out.”

A muffled no was heard.

“What’s going on?”

“Warriors hasn’t stopped laughing.”

Off in the distance, the cackling continued as broken words of apology spilled from the young man.

“Shut up,” came the muffled reply.

“It’s just… Wild has regressed and-”

The small mass moved, “Don’t you dare say it.”

“His voice cracked,” Hyrule whispered to the group.

A groan just resounded with the blankets.

“Wild, it’s okay! Just come on out.”

With a sigh of resignation, Wild removed the blankets and stared at the other six. Messy blond hair accompanied a disgruntled face. 

“Pfft… Baby face! I’m sorry. I need to go.” Legend left to go join Warriors outside.

Wild just deepened his glare. Baby blue eyes soon landed on the other five. Smiles of varying degrees were observed. “Just out with it, will you.”

“You are so adorable!”

“Honestly, it isn’t that bad. You still are you, cub… Just younger.”

“I look stupid!” Eyes became wide. Snorts of laughter left some and Wild just hid. “My voice sounds so stupid!”

Despite Time being amused, he gingerly placed his hand on the mass under the blankets. “Your voice cracked. We all went through that.”

“Yeah, Wild. I sometimes go through that myself. But you look pretty neat though! And don’t mind the baby face. I also suffer from the syndrome as well.” 

“Okay, okay. Can you please leave? I’ll get ready so we can see Impa.”

As everyone left, Twilight stayed behind, “If you need help, just call out, okay?”

Scoffing, Wild became offended, “As if. Now get out of my room.”

“Bossy, bossy. We’ll be waiting for you.”

----

Legend and Warriors waited for the others as they regrouped nearby.

“I shouldn’t have laughed. But the way his voice cracked made me lose it. Normally I don’t let things get to me, but it was just different. I guess it was the baby face that did me in.”

“He’s not ready to go?” Legend looked around.

Before anything else could be said, the sound of a creaking door grabbed the attention as eight heads swiveled around to see a meek-looking face peering from the side.

“Twi? I need help.”

-----

Exiting out of the inn, Legend commented, “Oi, didn’t your clothes shrink with you or something?”

The boy harbored his usual garb, minus the boots. His champion tunic hung off of one shoulder and his pants were rolled up and a piece of torn fabric looped around the belt loops to keep the pants somewhat in place.

Looking Legend up and down with a glare, Wild responded, “Wouldn’t you and your pasty knees like to know.”

Laughter erupted from almost everyone.

Flabbergasted, Legend became offended. “You leave my knees out of this, brat!”

He only earned a stick of the tongue. Legend had to be held back by Sky before he smacked the young boy upside the head.

Upon arriving at the grand home, two sheikah guards stood at attention and blocked the entrance to the staircase with their weapons. Shoving the others aside, Wild came up to the two men.

“Hey guys! I’m here to speak with Impa. It’s for important business. And these guys are with me.”

Upon looking at the young boy, both men saw the sheikah slate hanging by a piece of fabric- at the demand of Wild to Twilight.

“Ah, Master Link! Apologies. We have been notified by Impa to be expecting your visit. We did not recognize you at all.”

“As stated, please step on inside. Impa awaits your visit.”

“Thanks Cado, Dorian! Come on guys!” Wild began making his way up the stairs as he held on to his loose pants and looked behind him as the others all filed along and followed after the smaller boy. Upon reaching the grand doors, Wild adjusted his pants once more and pushed the doors open, allowing himself and his companions to enter along. 

“Ah, young champion, I have been awaiting your arrival,” an old voice called out. “So there was truth to what Purah had said. You do not look a day over ten.”

“I assume Purah has told you everything there is to know?”

“Indeed I have been made aware of the unfortunate incident that has befallen you. It has been such a long time since these old eyes seen such a young lad.” Impa hadn’t missed the bashful smile that graced Wild’s features. “But I must ask how you have been feeling so far, young hero?”

As Wild began to delve into how he had been feeling, soft footsteps took the attention of the others in the room as a young sheikah woman made herself known.

“Grandmother? Has Master Link arrived yet?”

She stopped at the footsteps and her bashful nature took over as she noted the others who were in the room. 

“Ah! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t r-realize our guests were here al-ready!”

“Paya!” 

A gasp left the woman as she was soon overtaken by a hug from a young boy. Looking to her grandmother, she received a nod from the elderly woman and realization dawned that the young boy hugging her was the champion she deeply admired and low-key crushed on.

“M-Master Link! S-so good to s-see you!” She couldn’t help but hug back awkwardly. 

“Paya, why don’t you accompany the young champion and get him at least a set of clothes that will properly fit him. Link, here. This should be enough to buy you something.”

“Such kindness you harbor for me, oh great village chief. Thank you.” Taking the rupees, Wild immediately ran to Paya, grabbing her hand and leading her outside with such energy that the poor young woman did everything to not trip over her own two feet.

The smile soon faded from Impa as she directed her gaze back to the others in the room. “Purah tells me that there were instances that he recalls memories of long ago. What has he said or what has he shared?”

Both Warriors and Hyrule looked at one another. 

“Well, when we arrived at the dead of night at the inn, Wild, I mean, Link, was just exhausted. Swaying as if he spent days with no sleep.”

Hyrule continued, “He just started responding to someone or something. Something about flowers and how he needed to go see you. I tried to bring it up this morning, but he had no recollection and was angry.”

“Angry? Because of his predicament or because of something else?”

“Well, you see,” Warriors became a bit meek, “I laughed at his voice. It just cracked. I don’t know why it made me laugh, but it did.”

“I see. But nothing else?”

All heads shook.

“Just to clear things up, Purah did let you know that his behavior would change, correct?” all heads nodded. “The display of affection was not of his character. At least it hasn’t been since a while. I know questions are whirring in those minds of yours, but do not utter them. Those conversation pieces you heard last night must be from his young life that is bleeding into his current memories.”

“So you say that it’s not just behavior that would change but memories will  surface?”

“Aye. how far and to what extent is truly unknown. I pray to Hylia above that it is not harsh on him. I do have one major concern for him. The Yiga.”

The room became cold. Time swore his breath could be seen. “There has been mention of that group.”

“A group of assassins whose goal is to murder the Hylian champion for the blood spilt from their lord and master. With the defeat of the Calamity, the pursuit of the hero has decreased some, but not enough to stop completely. Link is not out of danger. I am aware of the switching of worlds, but I urge you all to use caution when you are in this world.”

“I think we can manage,” spoke Time.

“I believe it to be ideal to pick and choose names when in the company of strangers. I do not believe titles would be wise as the Yiga are aware of the title of the champion. The only ones who are currently aware of Link’s condition are a select few. Zelda has also been notified. But I have a feeling that you lot will not be able to see her as the goddess has a timer currently set.”

“We will be careful. Thank you for that. And we will be taking good care of him, worry not.”

“Thank you.”

And at that moment, the doors opened as the young woman before stepped in, “I’m s-sorry… Master Link demands you all join him and Koko for breakfast.”

Standing up and dusting himself, Twilight turned his attention back to Impa. “I believe that is our cue to leave. You have our promise to watch him safely.”

“May Hylia above grant you patience and strength. He was a wild child.”

“I freaken knew it...”

-------

Exhaling a breath, Paya looked to her grandmother. “He was such an endearing young boy. So energetic and lively.”

“He wasn’t always like that. Younger? Yes. But it felt like eons since I saw that energy once again.”

“It must have been nice to see once more. You were very kind to give him some rupees. He was able to purchase a hylian tunic set. He was a little embarrassed to have asked for assistance in measurements, but he was so elated. He claimed it to be a gift from the ‘Great Village Chief’. He would have thanked you, but he saw Koko cooking and wanted to help prepare a meal for his companions before he demanded I come get them.” Paya could help but laugh as the memory of the small Hylian puffed out his cheeks to come get the others.

“What’s the matter, Grandmother?”

“I have been filled with such great sadness, my dear granddaughter. Those rupees were a mere gift to slowly attone for the sin I have committed against the young champion. I cannot help but fear a storm is brewing. I just hope they all exercise caution.”

Paya wanted to inquire for more. But she did not. Nor did she want to worry her poor grandmother over an acclaimed suspicion of a merchant that both her and Link encountered. Paya, like other sheikah, has been wary of outsiders that come to visit Kakariko. But that one merchant just sent shivers down her spine. There was no time as Link pulled her inside the Enchanted Armour shop, losing sight of that merchant. But it must have been her nerves.

Before she could excuse herself, Cado came bursting in, followed by Dorian.

“A dark portal appeared and Master Link with his companions all went in!”

“The portal then disappeared and there is no trace whatsoever of the young master!”

“Calm yourselves. If it were a dark source of energy, I would have been out the door praying and creating a barrier of some sort, would I have not? It was the will of the goddess that that portal appeared there. You may go in peace. You are also excused, Paya.”

Finally alone, Impa began to pray, “Hylia above, watch over them.”

[greengargouille]

At long last I have some time for Mother of Learning’s epilogue, which is great because I’ve been missing checking the tag but I wanted to avoid thinking too much about it before getting some rest So! What happened to our two -now former- time travellers since Zorian last fell unconscious?

-I expected either the ‘good morning’ wake up or a flashforward, but I admit I did not think of the two together. One month already, wow. Also, Zach is on friendly terms enough with Kirielle to rope her into his revenge pranks via PTSD. Neat.

(And Zorian complains about how long will Zach keep up with this, but, let’s admit it, halfway through that month Zorian probably pulled some nasty prank too in retribution, like pretending to have forgotten everything that happened within the loops. You can’t make me believe he never tried to get back at Zach) - “A dozen of people or so”, that’s... kind of a lot? I remembered that the only reason Zorian wasn’t sharing his bed with Kirielle in most restarts is because Imaya allowed her to have her own room while there wasn’t a third tenant for it. *checks previous chapters* Hmm, nope, it does say that there is a bunch of rooms on the second floor. Though I guess with the ‘slightly beyond’ capacity, some people do have to share their bedrooms.

Ah, nevermind, it does seems to be what I initially remembered. Well, one room for Imaya, one for Kael and Kana, one for Zorian and the last one for Kirielle would count as “a bunch”. But how are they sharing that between a dozen people?

(Zorian one evening just come to the Noveda Estate to get a room here, because he just can’t handle that many people under one roof and especially in his room.) (...Wait, is the Noveda Estate in good state, actually, or was it destroyed during the invasion attempt? Though I guess even if it’s mostly intact, it’s not Zach’s yet till he get a fair trial against his mentor)

-Ilsa is here! Did she sleep at the academy too? Or is she just here to watch over her students? I don’t care, I’m deciding she is sleeping here. Look, I might have never mentioned it before, but I have an incredibly soft spot at the idea of Ilsa and Imaya being girlfriends through their school years, and deciding to break up due to not being able to invest time in each other any more, but still remaining good friends. Look, I’m just a simple lesbian that like some wlw of adult age in her fantasy.

-Imaya having the time of her life aaaaaaah my heart, this epilogue only started and I already feel so blessed.

-Zorian ask where Zach is, Ilsa reply by refering to him as [Zorian’s] friend, which is... weird? He is her student too, even if she must not have seen much of him (or Zorian too, either, though he still tried to have mind magic sessions at school so maybe he was more present. Hmm. I do remember him saying to Akoja that he wouldn’t be present much though.) That would also imply that Zach is Zorian’s friend first, and eventually for his other classmates too. Hmmmmm.

...No, really, the fact that Zach was here but couldn’t wait for Zorian to wake up, wouldn’t that imply that he lives here too? Would make sense that he avoids the Estate if he is currently fighting with Tesen. Or maybe he comes to grab breakfast after whoever in charge of cooking at the Estate resigned after the invasion.

...I like the idea of Zach being part of the household, though, he must have spent enough time there through the loops to feel attached to the place. (which means that instead of Zorian going to the Noveda Estate to get at least one peaceful night, it’s Zach instead that come to crash in his room to avoid his shitty mentor outside of court meetings)

-Study groups is something I never thought about but make complete sense given how the academy is supposed to be in a bad state. Cyoria’s importance as a town will probably be massively cut despite the presence of the only rank 6 mana hole, and the academy’s management will be tough for the whole year. I wonder if, by the end of it, it will be able to go back to being the best academy of the country (continent?), or if its reputation will never recover and students will be more distributed across other academies. This could have interesting consequences, economically or politically.

-Ah, confirmation that Zorian was indeed absent from most classes this month.

-Zorian is starting to follow in Xvim’s footsteps, aww :’D

-We get to check up with Raynie, and while I don’t have much to say about it, I do like the... realism of it? The whole ‘putting this young girl with an emotional story up front to cover for other things, but ready to turn on her if it was beneficial’. We’re not left with a saccharine closure for her, but it still feels hopeful.

-Oh, Zorian is openly a mind mage. And here I thought he would really try to cover this up. Guess I will have to make major changes to that sequel fic I was never going to write in the first place

-Akoja finding motivation to become better out of the accident is... oddly sweet, in a way? Her way of explaining it is relatable. It was a terrible thing, and she knows it was terrible and feel bad for all those people, and guilty for how it turned out so well for her- but that’s not going to stop her from getting those opportunities. And she does frame it as “when war came for her again, she would be ready”, not out of altruism or wanting to protect others, which I actually really love?

-Zorian have an ‘uncanny ability to notice the problem people were having, and how to fix them’. I wonder what’s at play there. Is it his empathy/mind magic that helps him, his archmage level experience, the fact he already made training programs for multiple people in the past, or just because he is quite familiar with those people due to the time loop? Maybe all of this.

-Akoja understanding that the image she had of Zorian is flawed, but that she still likes him, is a good conclusion for her- even though the ways she notices in which he diverge from that mental picture are only due to the time loop, when even before that they already had major differences. Still a good step in the right direction.

-Akoja, Kopriva and Kael becoming buddies is nice. I like that the classmates are becoming friends even outside of the ZZ sphere of influence. (The term ‘bedfellow’ is not one I ever heard before, and I was ready to point this out as proof they all share rooms before looking at the definition. Sigh.)

-Ah, Zach is still seen as a ‘clown and a wastrel’ by his classmates, or at least Akoja. Seems obvious, as he didn’t interact much with her and need to stay low, but man, I feel like this kind of reputation could become a problem down the line. Or not. Even if he doesn’t show the full extend of his abilities, he can show enough to get some respect, for example hunting dangerous creatures.

-Kopriva thought Zorian became close to Zach for money, before learning about his sales. But not everybody have her connections. And Zorian is now a known mind mage. There’s probably one or two conspiracy theorists in Cyoria thinking that Zorian is manipulating Zach via mind magic and that’s why their relationship drastically switched.

-Hmm, if Kael is surprised someone got into his room despite the lock and ward, then it’s probably safe to say he doesn’t share it with someone else. Or another classmate, I guess he’s in the same situation with Kana that Zorian is with Kirielle.

-Some investigation ongoing! Seems like ZZ&co did a pretty good job at erasing their tracks. Zorian had probably no choice in leaving so much of the golem’s core behind, but I can’t help but think it means the end of his golem-making career, or he will have to keep it for private use- someone is going to recognise this kind of spell formula if he start producing golems interesting/effective enough to make enough sales despite being a one-man team.

-How much does the Triumverate Church knows about the summoning? Did Zorian went and erased the minds of people that were here when him and Zach first asked for an angel summon, or since it didn’t gave away anything about the loop, they were left alone? Is the fact those two were present at a not only successful summoning, but one that was hijacked by an high-rank angel, known by people higher in the Church hierarchy? Will they become unexpected allies in an eventual sequel when either of them is put in an awkward position by the crown?

-”It may take a year, or even a decade, but they were bound to make a mistake.” Flash forward a decade later, when Elayer learns the ‘saviors’ are the most powerful couple of the continent, and also are behind some of the help/money the investigation team got on other cases, and so it would be pretty bad for him to reveal the truth.

-POV switch to Damien, and we get a reminder that Zorian is basically an impostor who killed the original. Which is not something I, and probably many readers, thought much about at this point of the story, but it’s true this is a moral dilemma. Damien’s acceptance is a pretty normal reaction, though. I think. I dunno, my brother have yet to come up to me and tell me he is actually a time loop clone that killed the original, but I feel like I would be able to accept it.

-”Daimen was pretty sure his little brother would be willing to make an enemy out of the whole family for Kirielle’s sake”, except Daimen was baffled by their mother’s plans for her and wouldn’t go against Zorian, only try to smooth things over, and Fortov... wouldn’t it be hilarious if he actually supported Zorian through this plan. Zorian wouldn’t even know what to make of it since he just doesn’t care about his brother’s opinion.

-’Zorian can pull a grudge’, Daimen thinks, meanwhile Zach have been making petty pranks at Zorian for a whole month in retribution for putting him in an illusion world. The one who makes an enemy out of those two is going to have a very bad day.

-Benisek had to appear at least once in the epilogue, and with his overall contribution to the story it couldn’t have been a big part, but boy is his scene glorious. What a way to reveal some major information to people around :’)

-Spear of Resolve get to stroll openly through the city, how nice. The situation is far from being resolved for the web, and people’s perceptions probably aren’t going to shift even after getting used to them, but they are too important to strike down or ignore, and even before they already had trade relationships with some humans; a lot of possibilities are going to open for them.

-Taiven cameo! Her thriving as a combat mage and being totally independent from Zorian is a pretty satisfying end for her. Spending too much time around him would only make her discover some of his abilities and doubt her own, I’m afraid.

-The Noveda Estate is mentioned as a potential private meeting place, so it’s probably safe to assume it is not only mostly intact, and that Zach is living here/can invite people.

...Which reminds me. Didn’t Zorian have a workshop there (as seen in the chapter where he talks with Novelty and we hear about the pokeball grey hunter trap? Is the reason he asked Zach to buy a place for Kael and not for himself because he already had access to this one?

- “In all honesty, Zorian had yet to hand out even a fraction of the stuff he owed (...) It would take him literal years” This shouldn’t be surprising, given he already mentioned something similar before, but this is still something I wanted to point out, since it does align with a certain headcanon of mine on how the close future would go for him. This post is already pretty long so I won’t develop, might end up making another post about it I already said I won’t write that fic! Someone stop my brain from putting on more projects on me!

-Speaking of headcanons: Zorian is writing a book! My bet was on shaping exercises- a sort of follow up on the 15 variations basic book, putting the most interesting ones he saw during his travels, as well as less well known ones (Xvim did say there were shaping exercices for mind magic too, after all), and basically the kind of book he wished he could have during his training sessions with Xvim. But a mind magic book would actually be pretty great! If he is allowed to publish it. Not sure he can get the peer approval for it.

-Holy heck that Grey Hunter end. Well, that does answer the question of whether that primordial essence would dissolve away after Silverlake failed her contract. Man, I hadn’t expected her to actually have a part, despite joking about it.

-I expected Zach to have more of a role in the epilogue, but you know what? That just mean the unseen interactions are Free Real Estate.

This epilogue felt pretty good to read! It went in unexpected directions and managed to pull a lot of loose threads, while giving enough content to imagine an interesting sequel. I was worried till the end Zorian would date one of the girls he had interacted most with through the story, because this is the kind of disappointing ending stories tend to go for, but it really wouldn’t fit with Zorian’s character and just... the whole ethical problem of being mentally way older, having some major power imbalance and him retaining memories the other doesn’t have. Now that the story is completed I think I can go back and enjoy the passages where said girls appear more? They’re all very interesting characters in their own right, so I’m glad for that.

...I wouldn’t say I don’t want a sequel, but... I’m satisfied if Mr. Kurmaic ends the MoL-verse there (or only come back for worldbuilding posts on his blog). He did said he wanted to edit the story and eventually publish it before starting anything else, and he did want to write a completely different story, so even if he talked about a possible sequel, it wouldn’t be before years, and who knows how he will feel about the idea then. So I’m glad, I’m really glad, that the story ended so satisfying, because I feel like it’s fine for me if it’s over. I want to stay and enjoy the (very small) fandom here on tumblr, maybe contribute to it too, and I’m happy that I can do it without canon spoiling my enjoyment.

Mother of Learning will probably have a special place for me as a story. I wished it had more details on certain points, but it’s still a complete worldbuilding that felt fresh, the story had done amazingly well on Chekhov’s guns and twists, and I never felt like it went lazy or had disappointing answers to its mysteries (okay, maybe on Red Robe’s identity, but I feel that’s very forgivable). The magic system, Zorian’s progress, the time loop... so many elements that could have been badly exploited, but no, it never made characters take the idiot ball, the story didn’t pull power increase out of nowhere, it was all so good. Mostly, what I will admire the most, is that Nobody completed the story. The updates might have been constantly delayed, but it was still at a pretty good rhythm, and in a language that isn’t the maternal tongue of the author. As someone whose one-shots can stay WIP for years before I complete them... It is very inspiring.

I am so, so glad that I decided to read this story, that I was part of this adventure if only as a lurker... And I wish the best to Mr. Domagoj Kurmaic, whatever his next writing project will be- or even if he decides to stop writing at all. Sincerely, thank you.

[bee-kathony]

“Your Nose is Blue” - Jamie and Claire 

This is my ‘One Quote, One Shot’ fic, thank you @balfeheughlywed and @notevenjokingfic for organizing this! nswf at the end 

My quote is: “Your nose is blue,” I remarked conversationally. I glanced downward. “And so are your feet.” He grinned and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “So are my balls. Want to warm them for me?” 

Lallybroch December 8th, 1743

Snow had been falling every day since the first of December. Jamie and I had been at Lallybroch for almost two months, and it had been the happiest two months of our entire marriage. Granted, we hadn’t been married very long, but there was a simplicity with Jamie at his childhood home that we hadn’t found anywhere else.

I relished in every story that Jamie told me about growing up here. Even the ones that didn’t favor him in a good light — him and Ian sneaking away, getting into all kinds of mischief which led them to both be disciplined by Jamie’s father. I wondered what it would be like if both of Jamie’s parents were still alive, much in the same way I wondered the same about my own.

His sister, Jenny had been wary of me at first, and I didn’t blame her. I was a stranger who had come into her home, wed to her younger brother — I’d be cautious too. But over the past few weeks, we had grown close and I began to consider her my own sister.

I was still getting used to the idea of settling down and making a life here. There were still mornings when I would wake up and forget what century I was in. When I looked over to see Jamie, his hands folded across his stomach, and a small smile on his lips, I was grateful to be here — with him.

It was another chilly morning, much like it had been the past several days. My toes were ice cold and I turned over in bed to snuggle up to Jamie. I pressed my feet against him, warming them to his hot skin. He started to squirm, his eyes fluttering open and I felt him wrap his arm around me.

“Ah, Sassenach,” he said groggily. “Yer feet are freezin!”

“Sorry,” I started to pull them away, but he pulled me closer.

“Nah, tis alright,” he grinned, placing a kiss to my forehead. “Twas just a shock this early in the mornin’.”

“Would you be able to go and get some fresh wood for the fire later?” I asked him, resting my head on his chest. The heat radiated off of him, and he knew as well as I did that the fire was for my benefit only.

“Aye,” he said. “I’ll go chop some down after breakfast.”

“Get enough for the whole house if you can,” I looked up at him, tracing my finger along his chin. “I think everyone must be out as well. The whole damn place is freezing!”

“Och,” Jamie turned me in his arms, pressing my back to his chest. “They say a quick way to warm up is to take all yer clothes off and lay yer body next to another.”

“We can’t bloody walk around naked all day,” I laughed. “That only works when we’re in bed. What about the rest of the time?”

Jamie sighed, his hand settling over my stomach. “Hmm, well then I reckon I’ll have to keep ye in my bed all day.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” I chuckled, turning my head to look at him, noticing his smug expression. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you ever lay in bed all day. You’re constantly doing things around the stables or with Ian.”

“Aye, yer right about that.” His hand moved along my arm, fingers lightly tracing my skin. “There’s much to do, even wi’ the snow. Ah!” He suddenly shouted in my ear. “Ye can help Jenny wi’ the clickit. I saw her start a new scarf just yesterday.”

“Clickit?” I asked, turning back to look at him. His brows rose near his hairline and he rose to his perch himself on his elbow, staring down at me like I’d just cursed his mother’s grave.

“Claire,” he said incredulously. “Are ye tellin’ me ye canna clickit at all?”

I shook my head, twisting to lie flat on my back.

“And what did ye do for your winter stockings in yer time, then?”

“Bought them,” I said simply.

He looked from me and then out the window, “Well, I dinna see any shops about, I suppose ye’d best learn, aye?”

“I suppose so,” I eyed him dubiously.

“Tis no’ that hard, Sassenach,” Jamie shook his head. “Once we go downstairs, I’ll show ye how to get ye started.”

“You can clickit?” I asked, surprised.

“Well of course I can,” he laughed. “I’ve known how to clickit wi’ needles since I was seven years old. Do they no’ teach bairns anythin’ in your time, Sassenach?”

I thought for a moment, trying to come up with an answer. “Sometimes they teach little girls to do needlework, but not the boys.”

“Tis no’ fine needlework, Sassenach,” Jamie sat up in bed, pulling the sheet up to his waist. “Just simple knitting.”

Muttering under his breath about raising children the proper way, he climbed out of bed, stark naked in search for his sark. Once he found it, he shrugged it over his shoulders, now grabbing his kilt.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” I asked, admiring him from bed, my arms stretched above my head.

Jamie came over to me, looking down with both hands on his hips, kilt still in one hand. “There’s no time to waste, Sassenach. Ye’ve gone this long w’out learnin’ how to clickit, tis time for yer teachin’ to begin.”

“But breakfast,” I said, rolling over in bed and then I felt something land on top of me — it was my shift. He was bloody serious about me learning how to clickit, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I got dressed, watching the puzzled looks that crossed his face every now and then. There were a handful of times that I wished it were possible for Jamie to travel through the stones — if only to see what my time was really like, how things were different.

Once we were both dressed, Jamie led us downstairs where he proceeded to tell the whole household about my clickit skills — or lack thereof.

“What do ye mean she canna clickit?” Jenny asked, pausing from serving bowls of porridge on the table.

“Claire was never taught it as bairn,” Jamie shook his head, taking his seat at the table. I followed, feeling embarrassed at my lack of knitting knowledge. It just wasn’t a skill I had ever needed. When I wanted to wear something warm, I would buy it — necessity was the mother of invention and in my time, shops were invented so we didn’t have to knit.

“Well, I ken what we’re doin’ today,” Jenny said and shoveled porridge into my bowl.

++++++

It was an hour later, and I was sitting with Jenny in the living room, my fingers cold and feeling strained. Both Jenny and Jamie had explained it to me — draw the thread out of the closed fist, make a loop around your thumb, slip it into the needle and you cast a row. It looked simple enough, but every time I tried, it all came apart.

After watching me fail again and again, Jamie had shrugged, and left me in Jenny’s capable hands while he went to fetch firewood.

“Maybe by next Christmas I’ll have managed a small scarf,” I said helplessly. “I’m quite skilled with a knife or needle, but only when it comes to flesh, not knitting.”

“Och, ye’ll get the hang of it, Claire,” Jenny smiled, her fingers working quickly on her own scarf. She had no trouble at all casting a row, and I tried to watch, but my brain and hands couldn’t work together in that way.

I set aside my mess of a scarf, and picked up a bit of yarn, rolling it into a neat ball. In the winter, there wasn’t so much to do outside of the house besides tending to the animals. My hands were itching to hold a real needle in them or dig up the earth for planting. It was no wonder so many babies were made in the winter months — there wasn’t anything else that could be done!

“I think I’m going to go and lie down for awhile,” I said and stood up. “Will you tell Jamie when he comes back that I’m upstairs?”

“Aye, of course,” she smiled. “I expect he’ll be back soon wi’ the fresh wood. We could use it, looks like it’ll be a cold one again tonight.”

I left Jenny in the living room, and rubbed my hands together for warmth as I walked up the stairs. I wanted Jamie to hurry up and come back, not only for the warmth of the fire, but for the warmth of holding him next to me.

Climbing into bed, I pulled up the layers of sheets and quilts to my neck to try and get warm. My teeth were chattering, and I pulled the quilt above my head, hoping sleep would take me under.

What felt like a minute later, my eyes opened to see the sun’s shadow in a different place. It must have been an hour or more since I’d come up for a nap. The room was quiet, and the fire wasn’t lit which meant Jamie hadn’t come back yet.

Brushing my hand across my face, I rose out of the bed and walked downstairs in search of Jamie. Jenny was gone, her knitting needles stored in the basket near the couch. The fire in the main room wasn’t lit either.

“Jamie?” I called out.

Noise came from the kitchen and I followed it.

“Has Jamie come back yet?” I asked Jenny as she poured herself a cup of hot tea.

“No, I was just startin’ to grow worrit for him myself. The wee numptie should have been back by now,” Jenny shook her head. “He kens this land like the back of his own hand, so I dinna think he would be gettin’ lost.”

“Do you know where he would have gone to cut the wood?” I asked, already looking around for my wool cloak.

“Tis just back behind the house, near the tree line.” Jenny looked up from her cup of tea to find me tying my cloak on, and stepping into my shoes. “Oh, Claire, ye canna be thinkin’ about goin’ to find him. Ye’ll freeze!”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about with Jamie,” I said. “If I can’t find him, I’ll come back. And if I’m out there too long, come and find me.”  

I heard Jenny mutter something under her breath about being stubborn and I laughed — she was one to talk, the other half of the Fraser siblings.

It must have still been early afternoon, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t freezing. My breath puffed out in front of me and I began walking in the direction of the tree line behind the house. It was a ways back, and I hoped for Jamie’s sake he had thought to take his coat and gloves.

“Foolish man,” I muttered, stepping through the snow. There were a few possibilities of his lateness running through my head and none of them good. Looking up to the sky, I could tell that it would snow soon — I could practically smell it in the air.

I crossed through the trees, trying to keep an eye out for a mop of red hair. Jenny said he wouldn’t go too deep into the woods, and so I turned to my right, stepping over a fallen branch.

“Jamie?” I called out, placing both my hands to my mouth to make the sound carry.

There was no answer, and I couldn’t help but think of all the horrible things that could have happened to him. A sound came from my left and I looked to see a small grey rabbit hopping through the brush. For some reason, I decided to follow it.

“Are you going to lead me to my husband little rabbit?” I said out loud and immediately rolled my eyes. Talking to rabbits now, Beauchamp.

I continued to follow the rabbit, pausing when it would stop to munch on a leaf of grass or scratch behind its ear. Soon, it stopped and jumped behind a bush. My eyes traveled upwards and that’s when I saw him.

“Jamie!”

He was lying on his side, the ax near his hand and pile of wood at his feet. I ran to him, picking up my skirts so I wouldn’t trip and end up in the same state as him.

“Jamie,” I crouched down to my knees, both hands flying over his body. My fingers were at his neck, checking for a pulse and I sighed whenever I felt that steady beat. His cheeks were pale and his lips blue, much like the rest of him. I glanced down and saw that he’d taken his boots off and the tips of his toes were blue.

“Oh, please wake up,” I knelt over his body, pulling my cloak to cover him. When I pushed back my hand over his forehead, I saw blood congealed on the side of his head. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”

I checked him for other injuries, and determined it was only his head that had received the brunt of it. Most likely, he’d knocked himself in the head with the ax, and that thought did make me grin, but only briefly.

Trying to recall all my knowledge about hypothermia, I remembered that body heat was one of the best ways to revive someone. I sat up, pulling off my cloak and started to undress, hastily pulling at the laces of my bodice — I needed to lie with him, to save him in any way I could.

Just as I was about to lift my dress off over my head, I heard a groan from the body underneath me.

“Sassenach,” he said groggily and my hands dropped, covering his cheeks. I pressed my head to his, catching my breath for the first time since I’d found him.

“Oh thank God!”

“Claire,” he said a little louder. “What the devil are ye doin’ wi’ yer laces undone?”

I looked down at myself, feeling heat creep up my cheeks. “Well, I was going to warm you up — body heat.”

“Aye,” he smirked and then winced as he tried to sit up.

“Don’t move,” I said and forced him back to lie on the ground. “You’ve hit your head and you might have a concussion - er, a blow to your head.”

As he laid back, his brows knitted in discomfort, I began to tie up my laces again, putting myself in order. Thank goodness he had woken when he did because I was ready to take it all off and cover his body with mine.

“Your nose is blue,” I remarked conversationally. I glanced downward. “And so are your feet.”

He grinned and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “So are my balls. Want to warm them for me?” Cold or not, he was plainly in good spirits.

“Perhaps when you aren’t lying in snow and sporting a head with blood,” I smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on the tip of his blue nose. “What we really need to do is get you inside and by a fire.”

“Christ,” he looked over at the pile of firewood. “I dinna think I can manage to make it back like this wi’ the wood.”

“Well, maybe Jenny or Ian could come and collect it,” I said. “I should have thought to bring out a horse, but who would have thought you’d hit yourself with an ax!”

“Is that what I did?” He rubbed at his head, pulling his hand back to look at the blood that covered it now. “I dinna remember it, but I do remember ’twas a bit loose sliding through my hands.”

I slid my hand under his back to help him up into a sitting position. The back of his head was wet with melted snow. Jamie groaned as he moved, placing his head into his hands.

“Are you dizzy?”

“Aye, a wee bit,” he said. “My head feels like it’s been split open.”

“You’ll need to get plenty of water and rest over the next few days,” I told him. “But first things first is getting you out of the snow.”

It took a few tries, but I managed to help him stand up. Swaying a bit on his own, he steadied himself by placing one hand on my shoulder.

“This will be a long journey back inside,” he said and looked down at me.

“It will be with that attitude,” I smirked. “And are you going to tell me what you were doing out here in the snow with your shoes off, hmm?”

As if he had just realized he was barefoot, he looked down. “Och, I guess my feet were gettin’ sweaty and I wanted to feel the cold between my toes.”

“You’re just lucky you didn’t get stuck out here for much longer or you might have caught something called hypothermia and lost both your feet!”

“Tis no’ my feet I’m worrit about losin’,” he touched his crotch, as if checking all the bits were still there.

“Come on,” I laughed, “Let’s go home.”

++++++

It had taken nearly twice as long to get back as it had taken for me to come and find him. Jamie was moving slow, and he was obviously much larger and heavier than me so I found it difficult to support his weight.

When we arrived back to Lallybroch, Jenny and Ian had been waiting.

“Ye hit yerself wi’ an ax?” Jenny asked and I could see a smile forming on her lips.

“Aye,” Jamie scowled. “I dinna want to hear a word about it either.”

“We had to leave the wood he chopped behind,” I told them. “Would someone be able to fetch it and bring it inside?”

“I’ll do it,” Ian said. “I can take Donas out. Ye’ll have left the cart to carry it, I suppose?”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. “I was just goin’ to pull it back myself, but ye can use a horse since yer no’ as strong as me.”

Ian flashed out his hand, lightly smacking Jamie on the side and laughed, limping away to the stables outside.

“Ye best be glad yer wife was concerned for ye,” Jenny said and came around to slide her arm around Jamie’s waist. “If it were up to me, I might have let ye stay out there all night so ye could learn yer lesson.”

We started to make our way slowly up the stairs, taking them on at a time.

“And what lesson is that?” Jamie asked.

“That ye keep as firm a grip on yer ax as ye would yer cock,” she snorted and I couldn’t help but burst into a laugh. The big heavy scot between us groaned, either in embarrassment or pain — possibly both.

Jamie landed in our bed with a thud, rolling onto his side to avoid the light from the window. Sensing his discomfort, I walked over and shut the blinds until only a sliver of light was left.

“I’ll have Mrs. Crook prepare some soup,” Jenny said. “And I’ll fetch ye another couple of quilts to keep him warm.”

“Could you see if she can make willow bark tea as well?” I asked and Jenny nodded before heading out of the room.

I looked over at Jamie, still shivering under the covers. Sitting down beside him, I ran my fingers over his cheek, which now was much warmer than before.

“You already don’t look so blue,” I commented. “How are those balls of yours?”

Jamie smirked and glanced down between his legs. “They could still do wi’ a bit of warming up.”

“That part of your anatomy is taking a bit longer to to get back to it’s normal body temperature,” I grinned, moving closer to him in bed. He was now rolling over onto his back, and his hair moved aside, showing the blood once again. “But first,” I reached out to touch his head.

Jenny came back with two more quilts and laid them on top of his body, tucking him in as any mother would do. I imagined this wasn’t the first time Jenny had to take care of Jamie after he hurt himself.

I scrounged up a bit of cloth and found my comfrey salve in a small medical chest I had brought from my days at Leoch. Jamie turned his head to the side, allowing me to cleanse his wound and spread the slave over it to help heal it.

“There,” I said and discarded the bloody cloths. “You don’t need any stitches. And I expect you’ll have a bloody good headache for a couple of days, but nothing you can’t handle.”

Jamie was looking up at me, almost innocently and childlike. So often since I’d met him, I had bandaged him and healed his wounds, and every time he had the same expression on his face.

“What?” I asked, moving to sit beside him again.

“I just love havin’ such a fine healer as my wife,” he smiled. “Tis quite useful.”

“You do seem to get into a lot of painful situations,” I laughed and leaned against him, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Sassenach?” He asked a moment later.

“Hmmm?”

“I wasna lyin’ when I said that my balls were still blue,” he said almost sheepishly. “Ever since I woke to find ye half dressed and ready to throw yerself on me, I’ve had half a cock stand.”

“So it’s my fault, hmm?” I glanced over at him, finding blue eyes gazing at me. He was already in such a delicate state — I would have done anything to make him feel better.

“Aye, tis always yer fault,” he admitted and pulled one hand out from under the covers, reaching up to cup my cheek.

Leaning in, I kissed him, tender and slow. He was laying on his back, his head propped up on two pillows. I shifted onto my side, pulling the covers up and over my legs so I could join him in the warmth and hopefully give him some of mine.

My hand settled on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat for a moment before sliding it to rest over his belly. I didn’t have to move my hand much further before I came in contact with his greedy length. Jamie moaned into my mouth, his tongue sliding over my bottom lip as I palmed his cock.

“Sassenach,” he muttered between kisses. He was only wearing a clean sark, having shed his wet clothes before climbing into bed earlier. I pulled the material up and took him fully in my hand. Jamie groaned, his mouth hovering just against mine.

“As your healer, I think it’s only right for me to check on the precise color of those blue balls,” I said against his lips and I felt him twitch in my hand.

“Oh, aye,” he smirked and he was already pushing back the cover to expose himself to me.

I slid down the bed, easily fitting in between his legs and sat on my knees. Gripping his pulsing length in my hand, I ran my fingers up and down twice, watching as his hips flexed. He was trying not to move, his hands gripping the sheets beside him.

“C-christ,” he stuttered as I pressed my thumb over the head, collecting the bit of seed.

“Try not to move,” I said softly. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your head any further.”

“Sassenach, yer tryin’ to kill me,” he muttered between his teeth and then after grazing his blue balls with my hand, I descended on him. I took him eagerly in my mouth, swirling my tongue around him. I glanced up to see him watching me, and I felt my own belly light with a fire.

My hand worked in tandem with my mouth and I hollowed my cheeks, sucking deeply. Jamie was moaning, and his hips lifted off the bed, pushing his cock back against my throat.

“I’m sorry,” he was now panting, reaching his hand into my hair and I pulled my lips off of him, briefly licking the tip.

“Don’t apologize,” I smiled before placing a kiss to his head and swiping my tongue along his shaft. My hand slid down easily, pumping him and I twisted my grip, watching as his eyes shut tight. I knew he was close, so I kept my gaze on his face, waiting for that perfect moment.

I wrapped my lips over him, feeling swollen and needy. He tasted salty and whenever I met his gaze, Jamie jerked and came. I had no option but to drink him down, tasting him on my tongue, and lips and I released him with an audible ‘pop’.

Jamie wasted no time in pulling me up to lie on top of his body, his hands coming to grip my sides.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you,” I said, placing my hands on his chest. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself so soon.”

“Who said anything about me exertin’ myself?” He cocked a brow and reached one hand under my dress, finding my center and rubbing slowly. A few seconds later, I sank down on him, shifting until he was buried inside of me. I leaned over, pressing my lips to his and began to move. He felt so good and warm, filling me in a way that I would never tire of.

Jamie held me close to him, his hands roaming over my back, tugging at my dress. It was no use, my laces were still tied in the front and I began to push back harder on him, searching for a release of my own.

“Uhhh,” I moaned, placing a wet kiss to his cheek and jaw. Jamie’s hands found my arse under my dress, pressing me against him as he lifted his hips. And just so, he hit that spot inside of me and I came with a deep cry. I trembled in his arms, feeling his release inside me and I lay on top of him, knowing I should move to not hurt him.

Carefully, I rolled onto my side, sighing as my head hit the pillow and I lay one arm across his stomach.

“Did that take care of any blue balls?” I asked, biting my lip between my teeth.

Jamie looked over at me, running his finger over my cheek. “Aye, ye’ve taken good care of them, as ye always do.”

“It was my pleasure,” I smiled and leaned over to kiss him. Then I sat up in bed, tugging on my dress and climbed out. Jamie started to protest, but I shushed him, pulling the covers up around him. “Now, you really do need to rest. I’m going to go check on that willow bark tea, and when I come back, there will be no more funny business.”

“Aye, captain,” Jamie pressed his hand to his head and tried to wink. Laughing, I left him on his own to get the tea.

When I came back upstairs, his eyes were closed and his mouth was hung slightly open, a bit of drool dribbling down. I don’t know how he managed to possess all the qualities that made me want to claw at his back one minute and the next, tuck him up and sing him a lullaby.

I took a sip of the tea before sitting it on the bedside table and shed my clothes, crawling into bed naked with him. After all, body heat was the best way to warm up.

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

The Zodiac Whumper - Gemini Part 1

So you may have already noticed that this is part one. So um. Yeah. This is already really long so I had to split it into two parts. The second one should be up within the week. Continued from here. If you’re new, start here! 

Tag list (ask to be added or removed):  @whumpallday, @stxck-fxck, @thatsthewhump, @unsung-sympathy, @terriblethrillssss​, @insanitywishes​, @woodenhoneybee​, @whale-whumps 

Content warnings: lady whump (there will be guy whump too if that’s not your speed, more next part though), descriptions of a near panic attack, burning with candlewax

Last of the notes: a huge shoutout to @shameless-whumper​ who requested the premise I used for this piece and the next, and @card-games-and-pain​ for this post which I used a slightly modified version of in these pieces. Big creds to you guys for providing my creativity some sustenance. 

She woke up slowly, blinking the sleep from her eyes and wincing at a voice above her, gradually floating into her ears. 

“...can’t just skip you; up and at ‘em now, Gemma!” 

“Who th’hell’s Gemma? ‘m I lost? I‘ve never known anyone with th’name Gemma…” she slurs, sleep laden tongue stumbling over the words. Her hands pushed her to sit up, forcing her to look at the person staring into the cage at her.

“There you go, nice and awake. And you’re Gemma, obviously.” Zoran tilted their head in a coy smile as if it had been her name all along.

“Gemma, that’s not even right… aren’t I supposed to be Gemini? I mean, you used the full Zodiac names for everyone else and I think you called me Gemini so I just assumed...” Gemma hung her head slightly. Saying this kind of thing was exactly what would get her on their bad side, but it would be easier to make the best of it later if she knew what they wanted.

“Oh, but I couldn’t very well call you both Gemini, could I?” 

The words took a few seconds to settle in. And then her heart plummeted.

“Wh-what do you mean both?!” There were a million scenarios and theories to panic about in her head, filling it up and drowning her consciousness as her body shut down. Her gut instinct was yelling and trying to warn her, but she couldn’t hear it over the roaring waves.

“Yeah! I split it instead: you’re Gemma and he’s Nye!” They gesture at nothing, face falling for a second, “ ...oh that’s right, I almost forgot I didn’t reintroduce the two of you. Nye, get in here! Take her out for me, could you?” Short hair and dark skin came walking in, expression blank as he bent down with a ring of keys in his hands and Gemma gasped in a horrible, shaking sob.

“Brice! Oh god, Brice did they… why?! What did you- what are you doing to him?!” Gemma’s heart pounded at the sight of her twin brother--oh fuck they took her brother too what the hell what the helI--and he didn’t even look up to see the tears rolling down Gemma’s face and the hand clamped over her mouth to quiet her pathetic sobs.

“It’s wonderful how a Gemini breaks, isn’t it?” Zoran comments, not caring to address her distress. “That inherent need to learn and improve put to good use, huh? What a pity it would be to see you go the same way.”

“Don’t-” and sobbed silently, horrified that her first thought was ‘don’t do to me whatever you already did to him,’ “Please, just please let us go…”

“Leaving so soon?” they gasped dramatically, and Nye finally got the cage open. He dragged his sister out with a firm grip on her arm and held her still, facing Zoran. “I had to work so hard to find the perfect pair of Gemini twins! You have to stay for the rest of the party at least, watch everyone else’s turns, and, well, I haven’t even decided what to do with you lot after that!” They laughed like it was funny.

“Brice,” Gemma gave up on them, turning back to her brother with teary eyes, “why are you doing this? Please, let me go; whatever they offered or did to you isn’t worth it. I promise.” Nye twitched at that and she swore she saw just a hint of conflict in his expression. Not all was lost.

“Your brother Nye and I have an arrangement and, contrary to your belief, it is very much worth his while to comply with me. It’d be a shame if I had to-”

“No,” It was a husky, haunted whisper that first escaped Nye’s lips. “Please, don’t…”

“Oh, well if you insist,” Zoran sighed, “Nye, fetch the table I had you bring down. I trust you know well enough not to run by this point, Gemma. You’re not as thick skulled as a few other people here.” Pointedly, they glanced over at Taurus whose eyes glimmered dully with hurt at the comment. 

Gemma stood complacently with hands held behind her back, eyes following her brother as he left the room. Nye came back just seconds later, locking the door behind himself, and wheeling in a long metal table that nearly had her passing out at the sight of it. Torture implements of all types and sizes were laid out in neat rows just begging to inflict pain on an unlucky victim. Amidst the knives, bottles, and syringes she recognized were countless mechanisms she didn’t even want to place, as well as everyday household objects strewn about. 

She couldn’t even comprehend why or how all of this would be used on her and she was trembling uncontrollably and unseeingly when a hand clamped on her shoulder, pulling a flinch and coaxing her head up. Zoran stared, a fond smile spread over his lips, and wordlessly pulled her forward towards the table. 

Gemma suppressed the urge to swat the hand away, or run, or crawl back in that awful, degrading cage to get away. She walked at the guidance of Zoran’s hand, and knelt when it pushed her down, holding hands still when a length of rope pulled them behind her back, and then her ankles just a minute later.

When a length of cloth came around her head as a blindfold, she leaned ever so slightly into it. Then the room was silent until she heard something akin to… the shuffling of cards?

“Nye, you and I are going to play a game,” they started, no room in the statement for refusal, “and Gemma is going to be a good pawn for us. The rules are simple, so pay attention because I’m not repeating them.

“We will draw cards one at a time. Whoever pulls the card must first read it aloud and then perform the listed action on Gemma or, because I’m merciful, you may forfeit and I’ll turn the card’s command on you instead. That card will then not count towards your full six cards. When both of us hit that card total of six, the game is over. Clear?”

“C-crystal,” Nye’s voice cracked around the word.

“And one more thing. To be sure this is as fair as possible, I’ve elected to include a mediator. Take Libra from his cage, Nye, and tie him down over there. Just the hands should work fine.”

At the mention of his sign, Libra went stock still. Some other captives were arguing, trying to protect him, but he couldn’t hear as he felt every muscle in his body locking up and panic coming on quicker than he could quell its effects. Nye’s tall, lean silhouette loomed over him and he squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t prepared for this. He would never have been prepared for this. He knew it was coming, but he thought he had a few days to collect himself--

“Libra, hey, can you look at me?” A hand holding his chin gently and a soft voice talking to him parted the impenetrable fog just for a second. “Where are you right now?”

He tried to think, but around wheezing breaths and shaky limbs it was impossible. Libra muttered something that got another response out of the voice.

“Listen to me, try to breathe. You’re, ah, you’re locked up in the basement where you’ve been for a few days. You know, the grey stone and cage, dim lights, all that. Smells a bit like mildew. Don’t worry, you’re not going to be hurt right now. This won’t be hard if you follow their instructions.”

The descriptions helped a bit, and he drew himself back to reality with them, pushing the fog and panic away to the back of his mind in favor of paying attention and following instructions right now.

“I- yeah, I ca-can, I can breathe I’m oh-okay,” he muttered, short of breath. Inhaling slowly, he counted out measured gasps as Nye pulled him out. Shaking legs carried him unsteadily to the loop in the floor where Libra was tied tightly, hands in front between his knees, so he couldn’t escape. 

“Libra.” Zoran’s voice was sharp enough to cut, and he snapped his gaze up, wobbling with the lasting effects of his near panic attack. “You will be our mediator for obvious reasons. I trust you to have the values of fairness on your side as your sign should, because you know you’ll pay dearly for any deviance or bias. I’ll ask your opinion if I want it, and otherwise you’re to stay as a silent, close observer. Yes?”

“Y-yes.”

“Alright! The boring shit’s out of the way, so let’s get this show on the road!” Zoran’s expression split into a blinding grin, faux professionalism of earlier all driven away by the immediate promise of pure, unadulterated fun. “I’ll take the first turn.”

The room held its breath as they took the first card from the deck, reading it slowly over in their head before revealing it to everyone else.

“Drip hot wax on them.” They enunciated each word with pure ecstasy, “Starting things off with a bang, I see.”

At their feet as they lit a candle furnace, Gemma bit her lip in anticipation. Surely melted wax couldn’t hurt all too badly, she rationalized. She’d burnt herself on a candle before and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She could handle this. 

Above, Nye watched on as Zoran melted what looked to be pieces of a candle. It melded into liquid in a basin above the flame, turning translucent and nearly sparkling as it stirred under the lights. It was tantalizing and sickening at the same time to know it would be poured over his sister’s skin, burning and burning until… he didn’t even know what would happen.

Zoran slipped a glove on one hand to protect him from the heat and flicked out a knife to slice open the back of her shirt, thankfully leaving her underclothing intact, and reached back for the melted wax. Gemma trembled under their hand that pulled the t-shirt apart, pushing hard on a shoulder to make her bend further over her knees.

When the wax hit, it felt cold for a few lovely seconds before the nerves buzzing under her skin caught on fire. In a blink, it was searing and pulling at her as it dripped and spread further like a parasite. It was melting her skin, starting at her shoulders, the liquid left of it dripping further and further down her stripped bones and muscles and hardening again, bonding like a shell that protected her from the relief she so desperately craved.

Her teeth were clenched with such force that she feared she would break them as she whimpered and moaned at sluggish agony that felt no better even minutes after most of the wax had dried. 

The hand on her shoulder pulled her to sit back up, and at the movement Gemma felt the wax adjusting and cracking, reforming itself and shifting across its own burns. The blindfold was already soaked with tears but that didn’t keep her from crying all over again. 

“Your turn, Nye,” Zoran turned to him and gestured to the stack of cards. Hand shaking, he drew one and flipped it over, breath already caught in his throat.

“Shut… shut them up,” he read, brow furrowing, “and it has a question mark on it.”

“That means you have a choice. You either find some way to ‘shut her up’ using whatever you can find on the table,” they gestured to Gemma, whose harsh breaths were still echoing through the room, “or I find a way to silence you. Your choice.”

“I-I can do it to her,” Nye muttered, walking closer to the table he’d brought in. He could do this painlessly, some way or another. His hand ghosted over a few things on the table, shivering and flinching away from others that he hoped he’d never see used. Or worse, he contemplated breathlessly, have to use himself.

Slowly, carefully, he settled on something. He felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of strapping it on his own sister, but it could be useful to her long term. Something to bite down on for the pain… something to help block screams so it was less humiliating…

Grimacing, Nye picked up the muzzle, all leather facepiece and straps with a metal bit, and carried it carefully over to where his sister was kneeling.

“Wow, didn’t take you for that kind, Nye,” Zoran commented with a giggle, “just don’t forget our deal about talking to her.” The man in question fixed them with a fragile glare before turning back to Gemma, putting a gentle hand on her jaw. Slowly, he coaxed it open and met her lips with the metal bit, sliding it in to the back of her mouth.

It pressed down on her tongue and Gemma nearly gagged on it with how far back it reached. She held still as her brother figured out how to fasten and tighten the straps, pulling them only tight enough to keep the muzzle snugly on her face. She wasn’t upset with him, she reassured herself. He had no choice in what he was doing and there were a million worse avenues that prompt could have taken them down. 

When he stood and walked back away from her, she tested the give on the muzzle, working her jaw and finding she could hardly open it. But the metal gave her something other than her own teeth to bite down on. She just prayed it wouldn’t come that far even though she knew, deep down, that it already had.

Next part

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #163

Ah, summer. The season of no school, bright skies, pools, barbeques, and brief teenage romance.

Okay, so it’s not quite summer vacation yet. But nonetheless, the new season gives way for all sorts of fun shenanigans. None of it ever really enters “drama” territory (as dramatic as this series can be, that is), but as Tomoko’s last year of high school nears the halfway point, we discover that there’s still quite a bit we don’t know about our cast of knuckleheads.  

Chapter 163: Because I’m Not Popular, It’s Summer

I think it can be inferred that Tomoko is not a morning person, is she?

I think it can also be inferred that the once-aspiring NEET Tomoko is not a fan of hot weather. Better soak up that Vitamin D, girl.

Parasol Lady Asuka would like to battle!

Are parasols more prominent in Eastern culture? They’re not too terribly common where I’m from, but I imagine that may be a result of Japan having more of an aversion towards anything that would result in darker skin. Though I can also see it as a sort of fashion opportunity as well.

I believe those were umbrellas you used, Tomoko. But semantics aside, It’s pretty neat to see that Tomoko has finally reached that stage in her life where she can recognize her cringy chuunibyou phase. Long live those days of failing miserably at being a cool anime character.

Remember when Tomoko used to slut-shame the girls in her class? I detect a hint of hypocrisy there...

Gyaru!Asuka has already exploded on the imageboards, I guarantee it.

A part of me wonders why Tomoko grouped Kii-chan and Yuri specifically. They don’t have similar personalities or anything, but I see two possible reasons for it. One, Kii-chan and Yuri both got that mild-mannered, “exotic” look going on. But also, it may who Tomoko subconsciously believes she’ll see the most of over the summer.

We’ll, I mean...yeah. They would. It probably doesn’t help that Tomoko, with her lion’s mane, gives the impression of someone too physically active to care much about grooming. But as much as Tomoko derides the possibility of looking like a “sweaty day laborer”, I can’t deny that it’s not a bad look on her.  

The reason for that should be dead obvious by now.

The thing that amuses me is that Tomoko had no basis to start insinuating that Yuri’s a pervert. She just did, and has latched on to the idea ever since. While no doubt annoying for Yuri (even if it’s true), it’s kind of sweet if you see it as Tomoko wanting to have a shared interest with her.

I’m sure that compared to your freckled, “crazy lesbo” best friend, it isn’t. 

It’s funny how Nemo used to give off an air of someone who’s sexually acknowledgeable (at least to me) by virtue of being semi-popular. Now that we know’s she’s relatively pure, Tomoko will never let her live it down.  

Komiyama really is the most two-dimensional character in the series. And you know what?

It works.

In the education industry, we call it the “Perv Curve”.

Komiyama: Self-explanatory.

Hatsushiba: Anatomically-correct BDSM art must have originated from somewhere.

Katou: Yet even more evidence for the almost-openly perverted girl who casually says “vagina”.

Mako: ...wait, what?  

I’m so used to perfect scores being a badge of honor in Japanese media that it through me for a loop to see it suggested as anything else. Perhaps it’s an issue similar to Home Ec in that it’s not seen as educationally significant and only those really invested in the subject would master it. Either way, how lewd. 

Going back to Mako, I am genuinely shocked. Could Yuri’s oh-so-sweet bestie actually have a dirty side? Just when you think you know a gal! Naturally, she has just enough to shame to be embarrassed when its brought up, and I’m not ready to call out Mako as a pervert just yet. At least she has Yoshida to pat her on the back (ironic given the delinquent is now officially the purest one of the Kyoto Group).  

My Pokémon-obsessed mind can only see them as the Haramaku Elite Four, which, given the segment’s title, is highly unoriginal of me.

I’m 97% sure that Kawagoe’s that old geezer teacher we saw during Tomoko’s suspension. We even got that “strict about textbooks” continuity from way back when Tomoko forgot hers. 

All signs point to Minami’s-Faceless-“Friend”-#1 recognizing someone, most likely Yuri, during this little intersection. Curse you, Nico Tanigawa and your wonderful vagueness.

Nope. It’s not gonna work. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not. You aren’t going to make me feel sympathetic for Minami.

...

...

drat.

All that speculation has finally paid off cause we now have confirmation that Minami did(does?) in fact backbite Tomoko and Yuri. Thank goodness for Tomoko’s mental health that she never knew. But Minami’s got some nerve teasing Yuri when she’s actively Mako’s friend. Even more disturbing if Mako doesn’t realize it...

Between that tiny smile in the last panel and her wanting to tease, it’s pretty much certain that Minami’s-Faceless-“Friend”-#1 is not a pleasant person.

Birds of the same feather truly do flock together.

Okay, I cracked. Minami’s too adorable (and pitiful) right here.

I find it telling that even Minami’s “friends” know she’s a jerk. But if what goes around comes around, then Minami’s-Faceless-“Friend”-#1 might not realize she’s a jerk, too. Are most terrible people aware of their own terribleness? 

I don’t want to correlate jerkiness with irresponsibility but...here we are.

Man, that’s playing dirty. Suzuki is more than likely not that close to Minami, but any decent person wouldn’t just outright say “no” to a request like that. Of course, playing up her own supposed likeability through other’s basic kindness is Minami’s M.O.     

In manga and anime, that sort of haughtiness from cute, snaggletoothed girls is adorable in that “sigh, there she goes again” way.

In reality, it’s just annoying as shit. 

At first glance, Kayo’s just making an off-handed question, but my nit-picking mind says otherwise. I’m not sure how insistently heterosexual/romantic Japanese culture is towards male-female relationships, but would most teens show interest in a friend’s opposite gendered sibling? If say, Miyazaki had a little brother, would Kayo even ask Ucchi a question like that?

My theory is that Kayo is subtly trying to ascertain Ucchi’s sexuality. If the idea of Ucchi being gay for Tomoko is already planted in her head, then Kayo is using Tomoki as a “male version” for comparison. Ucchi’s already admitted to the Kuroki siblings being physically similar, so supposedly if she feels nothing towards Tomoki, then it’s Tomoko’s “femaleness” that attracts her.

This wouldn’t even be half as funny if Ucchi didn’t have an emoji face.

If only Komiyama could see this now...

Or, you know what? Maybe gender is irrelevant and Ucchi just has an indiscriminate gross fetish. 

Nemo’s ultra-realistic thoughts behind her cheery demeanor are always welcome.

For all those times that Tomoko pokes fun at Nemo for wanting to live out a slice-of-life school anime, she’s not exactly innocent either. More and more we see Tomoko trying to invoke those cliche moments, usually with little fear. It’s a rather far cry from when she’d try to pull anime tropes as a means to an end. Now she tries them out just for the sake of having fun, which is much more endearing.

In this particular trope, however, normally you’d have a guy and girl stuck inside, where they’d ultimately become more attracted to each other through the suspension bridge effect.

Of course, that’s assuming the boy and girl aren’t already together. If they are, then storage rooms are usually used as a hiding place to make out, but that obviously would never hap–

Oh.

FUCK.

If memory serves, this is the same couple who were flirting(?) back in the head patting chapter. A whole lot must of went down since then, eh?

Murphy’s Law.

It’s been quite a long time since we’ve had one of Tomoko’s infamous freakouts. And they say this series lost its roots.

A part of me wants to think that Nemo hears Tomoko but is pretending not to just to screw with her, but I don’t think she’d be that cruel. Even if it would be hilarious.

Just how far is your “it”, Tomoko. Making out? Groping? HANDHOLDING!?

What am I saying–she’s totally thinking sex.

It’s interesting to note that Tomoko just assumes that Yuri and Mako have never had a boyfriend. Sure, it may be implied given we’ve never seen them have this discussion before (that we know of), but it’s still pretty presumptuous on Tomoko’s part. My only reasoning is that Tomoko is trying to ally themselves over supposed “undesirability” like many self-deprecating friends do.

First off, I am not at all surprised given Mako’s personality.

What does surprise me is how totally betrayed Mako sounds. I can only assume that it’s a part of Mako’s past that she’d rather not reveal. While I don’t think Yuri meant any harm bringing it up, that kind of miscommunication goes to show that even though they’re best friends, Yuri and Mako don’t always see eye to eye.

Sounds like dating to me. Or rather, sounds like dating between high schoolers. At the risk of sounding like an old-ass millennial, dating between high schoolers rarely last, despite what shoujo manga suggests. Casual dating is exactly that–casual. They’re attracted to the novelty of dating, but once that initial thrill wears off, cue the breakup. 

Side note, I just realized that Yuri loosens up her tie. I love small details like that.

Perhaps I’m reading too much into it, but Mako seems to be suggesting that girls, on the other hand, aren’t as desperate to get boyfriends. While that isn’t necessarily true, I do see that answer as mostly a convenient excuse for Mako, who may simply just not want to be in a relationship right now.

I can see the “Mako is straight/Mako is lesbian(for Yoshida)” War right now...   

Boy, it’s been a while since Tomoko has contemplated her own popularity, let alone try to be more popular. I guess it goes to show that even though Tomoko is more or less satisfied with her current status, she still sees herself below the bar of what constitutes “popular”. She does perpetuate feminine “purity” as an indicator of her societal value, but I’ll let it be–reality is not so kind, after all. 

One of the more prominent questions that Yuri’s fanboys have is “How come someone as pretty as Yuri isn’t more popular with the boys?”

Well, there you go.

In terms of looks, I never thought Yuri was that unattractive in-universe. She’s in that small niche of “plain and generic, but just cute enough that fans feel they could feasibly ask out a girl like her in real life”. So while it's reasonable to think that at least one person would show interest in her, it's Yuri’s personality that ends up putting them off. She probably isn’t ready to commit to the effort of dating and being someone’s girlfriend. nor does Yuri seem that interested to begin with if her texting habits are anything to go by.

I can’t for the life of me remember the name for it, but I believe that there’s this belief in Japan that says everybody (mostly boys) has that brief period in their life where they’re suddenly attractive and people want to date them. I imagine that Tomoko may actually reach that time in life sooner than she thinks.

PTSD TRIGGERED!! For the readers, I mean.

For real, though. What a comeback. Who would have thought that Kosaka, that guy who was introduced in Chapter FIVE would make his grand return? Normally, making a reappearance this late in the game would feel like an asspull, but it works because he was never meant to drastically affect Tomoko’s growth. He was just the spark, the first hint to show that people could actually befriend her. And for that, we salute you, Umbrella Dude.

It’s been, what? About two years since they last spoke, and he still remembers her? Impressive! Then again, I don’t think you're about to forget the girl who gave you a dogeza.

Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Tell Lies.

These moments where Tomoko is unabashedly a blushing schoolgirl are really precious because she isn’t “perfectly ditzy in that moe sort of way” about it. She gets riled up, sweaty, and unpleasant to watch. Which, ironically, is even more adorable just for how genuine it is.

Yeah, I’m sure the original said “dogeza”, but since there isn’t really a good English equivalent for it, I think “genuflect”...is still an odd choice.

Yuri, who always has her “Tomoko’s BS” meter on high, knows that Tomoko is screwing around when she calls it her “first”. Poor Mako, a now confirmed pervert who still thinks Tomoko is so amazing, thought the girl had popped the guy’s cherry. 

Friendly reminder that eventful summers are not necessarily pleasant summers. Though they could be with the right perspective...

So...Yuri vs. Kii-chan Death Battle when?

The most beautiful part about this ending is that there’s no second-guessing. No “maybe I won’t be lonely” or “I wonder if I’ll be lonely”. Just a very affirmative “I won’t be lonely”. Tomoko fully expects that she’ll be spending time with her friends this summer, and that confidence is more than I ever would’ve expected from Tomoko in previous years.

With summer vacation just over the horizon (don’t want to jump the gun), a medley of both happy, unhappy and delightfully awkward moments are sure to transpire. Just about the only thing Tomoko can plan is the unplanned, and I’ll be sure to get a front-row seat to watch it all.