#taps second smaller sign that says

[jiminy-crickets]

now its time for us all to play a game called "will matt rempe get scratched for the third game in a row, or are about to see him get his shit rocked by one or more of the devils (please of please, be more than one)"

[lis-likes-fics]

The Sound of His Voice

Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)

Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”

Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”

JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”

You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”

You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.

But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.

The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.

He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.

He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…

Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”

Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”

You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.

Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.

You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”

Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.

“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.

“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”

Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.

“Reid?”

Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”

“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods.

She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”

Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”

“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”

You sit up, “The hearts.”

Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”

Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”

JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”

Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”

“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.

“Learning?” Hotch asks.

Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”

“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”

“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.

Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.

“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.

Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”

“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.

Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”

Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”

“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.

Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”

He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”

“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.

“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.

He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”

There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”

He glances at you. A nod.

You nod back.

Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.

~

There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.

And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.

Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.

JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”

Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.

But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.

“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”

“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”

Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”

She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”

You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.

Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.

Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”

Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.

“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.

“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”

His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.

You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.

Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.

“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”

“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.

Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.

“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.

“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”

You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.

“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.

His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”

Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.

You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”

He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”

You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”

You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”

You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.

His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”

He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”

You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”

Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.

“Oh,” is all he says.

With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”

His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”

Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”

His smile grows. “Well…”

For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.

You love the way he talks.

Criminal Minds taglist: ... Tag yourself here...

[soriseerakyra]

Harmony

TW: Sick child, and bodily fluids

He is so small and so pale. You don’t remember the last time you’ve seen anyone that gray, let alone a child. A gray cast to his skin makes the rosiness of his cheeks stand out, even in the warm orange light of the room.

You feel childish, stupid even. Not only because you are peeking into a clearly private moment. But also, because five minutes ago you sat in the foyer of your date’s home, heel tapping in annoyance.

You were so sure of yourself too. It had been just another time that he was going to cancel you. Even worse, you were waiting in his home, and he hadn’t even bothered to come down and greet you when you arrived. Alfred did, with worried eyes and a solemn frown. Irritation had flashed down your spine so quickly that you didn’t even bother to question the look on the man's face, sure that he would simply give you another excuse on behalf of his employer.  The first few times you’d communicated with the man he had seemed just as annoyed as you were with Bruce.  But he didn’t commiserate with you tonight, and now you can see why there was a touch of worry on his brow.

Your date was on his knees, large shoulders hunched in exhaustion next to the small pale boy. His large hands gripped the boys’ smaller ones. Kneeling next to the bed it is a bit absurd how much larger he is than the boy. And yet he feels small. Almost broken.

His normally teasing blue eyes are sunken, with dark circles and harsh lines marring his face like paint. You know that look, the look of a parent in distress. Your mother often had the same one when you would get sick.

You knew about the boy, though he was mentioned more by rumor than his actual father. You understood that though, the need for someone in his position to protect his son. The gossip rags had cruelly stated that he had only taken the boy in out of pity and you had imagined that put a bitter taste in Bruce’s mouth. You weren’t surprised how hesitant he felt about introducing to the boy to you.

A strained huff turns your attention back to the small frame quivering in the bed. His breath seems stilted for a moment, a pause that goes on too long for his father.

“Dick?” The man questions as he shakes the boy’s hands slightly.

Then the boy, Dick, begins to cough. The harshness of it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It’s a deep, raspy sound, one that shouldn’t be able to come out of a body that small. You can hear the spasms of his lungs as air tries to force its way out of his mouth.

Bruce moves to soothe the boy, a hand laying on his chest for comfort, an attempt to make the delirious child aware of his presence. But that’s all he can seem to do. His mouth turned down in a frown and his eyes were wide with a panic. It dawns on you that he has no idea how to help a sick child.

The coughs show no signs of slowing down, if anything, the hacking seems to get worse. And the feeling broiling in your stomach coaxes you into motion.

You can’t just watch.

You palm the door, slamming it open much harder than you mean to. The noise causes both bodies to startle, but only one pair of eyes rises to meet yours. The large man is on his feet quicker than you can blink.

He looks at you with wide eyes and clenched fists. He looks like a predator, caught off guard in his own home. His blue eyes are black as he looks you up and down. It takes little more than a second for him to recognize you and for his hackles to recede.

“Excuse me,” you say pushing your way between him and the boy.

Bruce is surprisingly easy to move as if he is easily surrendering to your authority on the matter.

You take your place next to the boy quickly.

“Hi Dick,” you start with a friendly tone, you don’t want to scare the boy. Although you doubt it, he cares at the moment.

He can only pause from his coughs for a second. Long enough for him to squint one baby blue eye open at you in greeting. It’s closed almost immediately after, as strained coughs once again wrack his tiny frame.

“Can you put your hands above your head for me,” your voice is firm and gentle. In the back of your mind, you briefly realize how much you are mimicking your mother’s dulcet tones; you aren’t even sure how you’re doing it.

The boy responds. Small arms rise above his head, bent at the elbows, one pinker than the other from having been under the warmth of his comforter.

Your hand finds his back and you rub a soothing circle before beginning to pat rhythmically.

“What are you doing?” Bruce asks from the corner of the room.

You acknowledge him with a small sharp glance, but your face relaxes when you take in the worried furrow of his brow.

“Got to loosen the mucus, otherwise he won’t be able to breathe.”

You are careful not to hit the boy too hard, the idea of even the hint of a red mark on his skin makes you shudder, but better than him not being able to breathe.

“Does he have asthma?” You probe.

“I don’t think so.”

“Has he been sick like this before?”

“I don’t know.”

Your eye twitches with annoyance and you bite the tip of your tongue to keep from making your feelings known. You can feel the worry dripping off Bruce in waves, that usually composed steady tone of his not wavering, but he has an unmistakably worried look in his eye. Even if he did know that boy’s medical history, he probably wasn’t in the right state of mind to recall it.

“Can you get him some tea, with honey and lemon, please? You try to be polite about it, but your tone conveys an order rather than a request.

He hesitates, again. Eyes flickering from between you and the boy once again. And then something changes. As if he’s resigned himself to the fact that, at the moment he can’t help. He gives you a nod, his eyes no longer clouded with fear but with a newfound trust. Trust in you.

“And some mentholatum or Vicks if you have it.”

If he has questions, he doesn’t ask them.

In the next seconds, you are left alone in a room with a boy you barely know, and one you aren’t even sure knows who you are.

Time passes slowly, every second feeling longer than it should as the boy shakes in your arms, and you continue to hit his back.

Finally, the cough changes. It becomes less dry, and more heaving. Your eyes find a box of tissues on the nightstand. The moment you press the cloth to his mouth he begins to heave into your palm. You suppress your slightly disgusted shudder as warm sticky liquid is coughed into your hand.

“It’s okay,” you soothe both you and the boy. Dick’s arms come down as he hacks more into each successive tissue offered up to him.

It’s not long until both the cough and the boy are exhausted.

It’s at this moment that Alfred comes in. He pushes a small rolling tray that has a small kettle, spoon, and cup. Honey and lemon are placed in small dishes on the side.

He looks at the pair of you. The boy collapsed on your chest and you with a small awkward but proud smile on your face. You can see a small outline of a wistful smile on his face.

“Anything else, ma’am?” The butler asks as he pushes the cart next to you.

“No, thank you.  I think we are alright for right now, Alfred.”

Something twinkles in his eye, and leaves you with the child, like it was only natural for you to be there.

He feels odd, childish even. He was snooping in his own house. But he needs a moment to collect himself. On the way home from the nearest drug store he had been dreading coming back to the manor and hearing the echoes of a miserable sick child tumble through the house. Instead, he returned to a home at peace. And as he picked through the bedroom door, he could only hear the soft sounds of breathing.

Dick, his son he must remind himself, is pressed to her side, head resting on her chest. Like some kind of painting. His mouth is open making soft noises, nose is too stuffy to breathe properly. She too is resting eyes closed as she rests her back against the headboard, her nails raking through the boy’s dark hair soothingly.

It’s absurd, how fitting she looks there, how fittingly they look together. She’d removed her strappy heels, stretched the form-fitting skirt of her gold dress to its limit to make Dick more comfortable, and her perfectly coifed hair had fallen slightly flat; small streaks of sweat dried at her hairline.

Something alerts her to his presence, and her eyes open sharp, the sternness only seems to accentuate their beauty. Her lips are pulled down in a slightly disappointed pouting frown, as if she knows that he’s been standing there.

A heat runs through him.

She looks at him expectantly.

“You, have it?” She asked arm outstretched, presupposing his answer.

He rustles in the small bag that he got from the store. Nearly fumbling for the right box. He’s slightly embarrassed that he can’t immediately produce what she’s asked for. He’d gone overboard in the store, buying all the cold medicines that he could get his hand on. So much so that he almost forgot the cream she asked for.

“Open it for me?”

He does as she asks and is ready to plop the jar in her hand, but he stops. He can see the cogs in her head turning as she looks at him with examining eyes.

“Sit on the other side,” she commands.

And almost reflexively he does as she asks. His weight causes the mattress to dip slightly, and the boy shifts slightly in her arms, straining to keep himself in nestled into her. She takes it in stride, pulling Dick closer to her so he can be comfortable.

“You’re going to rub it on his back, we lay him down, then rub it on his chest.”

“It’ll help?” He questions. He hates how unsure he sounds. Earlier he tried his best to hide it, but the long hours of worry have made his resolve shake. This worry is a type of ache he’s never experienced before and he’s still in the midst of training himself to beat down the feeling and get himself to think rationally.

“It’ll help.” She assures with a chuckle. The looking in her eyes is gentle, and her soft hand guides him to administer the slightly tingling balm to the boy's back.

Bruce’s heart flutters.

The deed is done. The tiny boy in your arms is medicated, rubbed down, and fast asleep.

The only problem now is that you are trapped.

The tight embrace of a sleeping sick nine-year-old has you chained to the bed and this strange situation.

And you weren’t the only one leashed to this child’s bed. Every so often Bruce’s hand would come up and rub the child’s back, as if he was checking that he was still stable. While he wasn’t locked in the vice-like grip of his son he was just as attached to the mattress as you were.

“He’ll want to thank you,” he murmurs, breaking the warm silence that had settled over the room. “He’ll be a little embarrassed, but he won’t let you go without saying thank you.”

“It doesn’t look like he’s planning on letting me go anyway,” You quip.

You both share a chuckle.

“I should find a way to get going, though.” You didn’t wear a watch, but your internal clock was telling you that it was very late into the night, bordering on morning. You weren’t sure just how long the pair of you had been watching the boy.

“You could stay,”

“I don’t know-.”

“Here with us.”

The statements are smushed together between you, each cutting the other off before you can form a complete thought. Nervous energies smashing against each other. Both knew, that if you stayed that night, something would fundamentally change.  Not that it already hadn’t, his son was clinging to you like you were his lifeline.

Your mouth turns dry, underneath Bruce’s stormy gaze. There is a certainty there you had never seen before, at least not when it came to you. When he could make your dates, he was always attentive, but never present and committed. A distance in his eyes that you didn’t know how to close. It’s gone now.

“If you want to,” he adds.

Only for your benefit, you are sure. And for a moment you’re stuck. Wondering to yourself if this is something that you want. The commitment and consideration of feelings of not just the pair of you but the small child whose soft snores are ringing in your ears. And as sudden as it seems, you can’t deny the warmth that’s resonating through your form at the thought of the three of you eating breakfast together.

“I’d like that.”

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Grand Edition Tokuten Special Booklet Short Stories ☽ Mukami ver. ☽ The Rainy School Night Mystery

Original title: 雨降る夜の学校の怪 English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the scans (special thanks to @karleksmumskladdkaka!) Sakamaki ver. ☽ Year-End Pandemonium (coming soon)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This short story booklet was part of the limited edition release of Grand Edition! Keep reading below the cut for the second short story, featuring the Mukami brothers. I will translate the Sakamaki one at a later date!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Droplets of rain tapped against the window panes and quickly converged into small streams, drawing curved lines on the glass on their way down. The rain had started the day before yesterday and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Maybe that might have been why, by the time the oppressive humidity began to make everyone feel uneasy…

“Hey, Kitten. I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

With a smile bright enough to wipe away any worries caused by the weather, Mukami Kou—the idol with a household name—approached Komori Yui in a friendly manner. His presence caused a stir among the other students around them.

Yui grabbed Kou by the sleeve of his uniform jacket and quietly uttered, “Kou, we’ll stand out if we talk here…”

“Alright!”

Yui was puzzled by Kou’s unusually good mood, but followed him to a spot that would keep them away from prying eyes.

“Kou… Did something happen?”

“I heard a very interesting rumour. I thought I’d ask you about it, too.”

“A rumour?”

“Yes! It’s a little strange for this time of year, but it’s about a ghost story. Apparently, most of the students and teachers are familiar with it. Have you heard about it?”

“No… What’s it about?”

As soon as he realised Yui was completely oblivious, Kou gleefully talked away.. 

“Apparently, when it’s very late on a night of endless rain, when most people have left the school… strange sounds start coming from one of the classrooms.” Kou lowered his voice in an attempt to stoke her fear. “Nobody knows exactly where the sounds are coming from. It could be an empty classroom, the art room… You can hear it from various places depending on the day.”

“And… it couldn’t just be a burglar?”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I haven’t heard anything about things going missing, and even if that were the case, wouldn’t the police have been involved already? There’s also rumours going around about it being the students’ own doing, but apparently there are scratch marks in the rooms where the sound came from. Like, in places higher up than the curtains, so people generally wouldn’t be able to reach that high.”

With the odds of it being a student prank getting smaller by the minute, Yui’s throat grew dry. She swallowed loudly.

There shouldn’t be any sounds coming from an unoccupied room. The first thing that came to Yui’s mind was an unscientific explanation—something she would rather not think about.

“So, you mean… it’s a ghost?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! People are saying it might be a ghost.”

“But couldn’t the sounds be coming from the building itself (1)? I heard that ‘strange sounds’ people hear inside their houses are usually just the rattling of the building.”

 “But that’s so boring, Kitten! Ghosts are way more interesting than rattling houses! Besides, people think it’s a ghost for good reason.”

“W-what reason…?!”

The way Kou purposefully explained it to her with such kindness, patience, and in such detail, made Yui shiver. A broad grin spread across the vampire’s face as he pulled Yui’s body closer while surveying their surroundings as if he was afraid of being caught, and started whispering into her ear.

“Some students have already snuck into the building at night as a test of courage, and apparently they saw dark shadows along with the strange sounds they heard. If it had been only one or two students spreading the rumour, it wouldn’t be a very credible story, but when so many people have had the exact same encounter, it’s difficult to still call it a trick of the mind, right? There’s also some students who claim they saw arms wrapped in bandages emerge from the darkness, at the exact timing that the lightning struck outside.”

“Oh…”

“Hm? What’s wrong, Kitten? You look a bit pale.”

“It’s because of your strange story…”

“Hehe! How cute. It’s going to be alright, Kitten. I’ll be by your side, after all.” Kou met Yui’s frightened eyes and shot her a sweet smile to put her at ease. “I’ll protect you. So… it has been a bit boring with all this rain lately. Shall we do some nightly exploration of the school for ourselves so we can figure out the truth behind the rumours?” 

“What?!”

“Come on, let’s go!”

“W-wait a minute! Where are we going?”

Kou, who would not have taken ‘no’ for an answer either way, grabbed Yui’s hand and hurried pulled her along, down the hall. He swiftly dodged the students who were already starting to head home at this hour.

“W-wait! Slow down…”

“But there’s no time like the present, right? Besides, if we don’t hurry, my fans will only try to pull me aside. Let’s go to the others quickly!”

Kou led her in the direction of a far-away third-year classroom.

When the two of them walked through the door, the other Mukami brothers were already there. Yuma was straddling a chair, Azusa lingered by the window, and Ruki stood leaning with his back against the wall, his arms crossed. 

“Hi, everyone! Sorry to keep you waiting. I brought our little Kitten!”

“You’re late, Kou. I was this close to goin’ home, even though you urged us to stay here ‘n wait.”

The discontent was plain on Yuma’s face. Kou muttered a half-serious apology to him and let go of Yui’s hand.

“Eve… did you run on your way here? You sound… out of breath…” Azusa tilted his head slightly to the side in concern for Yui.

“I’m okay, Azusa. Thank you.”

“Kou… If you need something from us, why gather us on campus?”

“Hehe. That’s because I need you all to be at school for this, ” Kou said, still beating around the bush.

Ruki glared daggers at his brother. Knowing he could not hold it off much longer, Kou decided to explain the situation.

“I was talking with Kitten about this earlier, but I heard an interesting story and I’d like you to know about it too! Have you heard the rumour that a ghost is haunting the school?”

“The one that’s making strange noises at night? I heard my classmates talkin’ ‘bout it.” Yuma clearly just wanted to know what mischief Kou was up to, making the blonde’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

“Oh, so you already know. Word certainly travels fast among the third-years.”

Ruki had a glaring suspicion about Kou’s intentions and decided to drive the point home before his brother could do it himself. “I suppose you weren’t going to ask us to look for the ghost with you, were you?”

“Hehe, bullseye!” Kou smiled broadly.

“Seriously? It’s just a rumour, though,” Yuma replied, sounding exasperated.

“How old are you? Don’t get so excited about this, Kou. Ghosts do not exist.” Ruki was referring to the fact that when someone dies and the moment their body perishes, a peculiar thing called the ‘soul’ perishes along with it. Ghosts were merely ridiculous fantasies; illusions invented by humans. Only ignorant children would be afraid of them… right?

However, Kou had already expected this reaction from Ruki and did not back down.

“Heh… I don’t think it’s good to decide that ghosts aren’t real without confirming anything ourselves. Right, Kitten?”

“Huh…? M-me?”

“Do you really believe this nonsense?” When Ruki turned to her, Yui instinctively straightened her spine.

“Not necessarily, but… It sounds a little scary, I think, but whether they’re actually real is another thing…”

“Kou, do you… really think the ghost… will appear? It might have just been… a trick of the mind, you know?”

“Of course I don’t believe the ghost actually exists.I don’t sense any other supernatural presences around here either, besides ourselves and the Sakamakis. Doesn’t that make you all the more interested in the hype around this ghost story?”

Ruki’s curiosity was piqued, if only a little, at Kou’s words. “Hm… You do have a point.”

It was easy to dismiss urban legends like this right away, but if there was a reality to this particular ghost story, that would change things.

“And what if people besides us are purposefully stirring up a ruckus at the academy? We can’t let that slide, right? So, I want to expose the truth behind these rumours! It won’t be fun if it’s just the four of us, though, so that’s why I brought Kitten with me.”

“I-I’m not going! Walking around the empty building at night sounds scary enough already, let alone when an actual ghost shows up…”

If the Mukami brothers could barely even make sense of the situation, didn’t that mean there was an actual chance a ghost was haunting the premises? When Yui thought of it like that, a chill ran down her spine.

“Heh, sounds fun!” Yuma put a hand on the back of the chair he’d been straddling and stood up with great vigour. “If she’s coming, I’m in, too!”

Yui was taken aback by his enthusiasm. “Yuma?!”

“I knew you’d come around, Yuma! Hey, Ruki. Please join us!”

“Alright. I do not care for ghosts, but I agree that we have to find out who’s causing all this trouble.”

“Right? Azusa, you’re coming too, aren’t you…? Azusa? Hello—?

“...”

Even as Kou’s eyes intently watched Azusa’s puzzled expression, the younger brother still didn’t answer. He raised a hand to his mouth as if in deep thought. Thinking it strange, Yui instinctively called out.

“Azusa?”

“Huh? Ah, I’m sorry… If you’re all going… then I will join you.”

“Great, that settles it! Let’s wait here for a bit until the school empties out.”

“H-hold on a second… Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Your opinion does not matter. Were you thinking of going home all by yourself, then?” Ruki said.

“Oh…” Met with four stares that left little room for protest, Yui reluctantly went along with their plans.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Several hours passed.

By the time all lights in the academy had been turned off and the emergency exit signs were the only source of light in the halls, the five began their search. The building had fallen completely silent. Only their footsteps and the distant sound of the rain outside could be heard.

Kou pulled Yui along by her hand and walked slightly ahead of the others.

“Hey, Kou… I don’t like going first.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll be even scarier if something appears…”

“It’s okay, really! You can lag behind if you want, but something might creep up behind you.”

“L-like what?”

“Who knows? But I’m right in front of you and Ruki and the others are right behind you. Don’t you think this is the safest position for you to be in?

Though Kou encouraged Yui to move to whatever position she wanted, she felt unable to do so. She decided to quietly follow behind Kou. They had been walking around the school for a little while now, but had not noticed anything out of the ordinary yet. 

Fed up with their aimlessly walking around, Yuma began to complain. “Hey, Kou. Nothing’s happened so far.”

“You’re too impatient, Yuma. We haven’t even been walking around for that long.”

“I feel no other presences nearby, nor have I heard that particular ‘sound’ you were talking about. Do you think it’s wary of us?” Ruki whispered, frowning as he surveyed his surroundings.

“Hey… If this really is a ghost’s doing, what do we even do? It probably won’t worship us or anything…”

Ignoring Yui’s worries completely, Yuma clutched his stomach and could not keep from bursting into laughter. “Pff, haha! You dummy. Why’d it worship us?”

“Because—isn’t that what they say about ghosts? That they worship people?

“Then they’d only worship you.”

“What…?”

“They only worship people, right?”

Yui tilted her head to the side, not quite understanding what Yuma was saying right away, but Ruki filled her in.

“Because we are vampires, after all. Besides, I don’t understand why you would be afraid of something as abstract as ghosts.”

“But… You never know! They might worship vampires too!”

While Yui desperately clung to her theory, Azusa and Kou decided to rub salt in the wound. 

“I think… we’re stronger than ghosts, though...”

“I know, right? I think they’d be repulsed rather than worship us.”

“Ah…” With nobody agreeing with her, Yui felt her position becoming more and more vulnerable. On top of being forced into this situation, she was the only one who was actually scared. 

Kou watched her intently, an almost reproachful expression on his face. “Oh, this won’t do. Even if you pout at me that way, I’ll just think you’re cute. But hey, I’ll protect you whatever happens, so stay calm, alright?” He winked at her in a way only an experienced idol could.

When Yui thought about it, being surrounded by four vampires—former humans, but still—probably was the safest position for her to be in, oddly enough. There was no way vampires would lose to an intangible ghost.

However, precisely because they were dealing with something intangible made it difficult for Yui to suppress her nerves. She desperately fought to keep the fear from overtaking.

The five walked around for a little while longer, Yui securely in the middle, but nothing happened.

“This is weird… Maybe it really is wary of us, like Ruki said. I wonder if it doesn’t like being ganged up on by a large group of people.”

“How about we split up then?”

“Right! If we go in small groups, the ghost might be more motivated to come out.”

“What…?! I don’t like the idea of splitting up.”

“We’re not asking for your opinion. That said, you would be in trouble if we left you alone, so… Yuma?”

Yuma looked puzzled when Ruki called his name. “Huh? What, Ruki?”

“Keep her company. If one of us goes with her, we’ll be able to swiftly deal with any unforeseen situations.”

“Yeah, true… Alright, Kou. We’re switchin’.”

Kou complied with Yuma’s demand, though the displeasure was clear on his face. The blonde might have rebelled against this change if Yuma had been the one to ask, but Ruki’s orders, on the other hand, were simply to be followed.

“Ah, what a shame. I was looking forward to holding hands with Kitten for a little longer.”

Kou reluctantly let go of Yui’s hand and surrendered his spot to Yuma.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that, Yui and Yuma split up from the rest of the group and began exploring the school anew.

It’s so quiet when it’s just the two of us walking around… Not feeling brave enough to speak up, Yui kept quiet and followed Yuma. I hope we can meet up with the others soon… If the ghost comes out now, I wonder if we’ll make it to them if we run.

“Hey, Sow… Why’re you shufflin’ behind me the entire time? Go out in front.”

“What?! N-no! I can’t!”

“There ain’t no way in hell that ghost is real, so no need to be such a scaredy-cat. You’re only makin’ yourself look more like an idiot.”

“I-I don’t care if I look like an idiot…! Some things are meant to be feared!”

“Ha! There ya go again… If I wanna leave , I’ll leave!”  As if to get the irritation out of his system, Yuma banged his fist against the wall beside him. 

Yui’s eyes snapped shut for a brief moment, but she did not flinch when she returned Yuma’s gaze, his face suddenly much closer than before.

“But…”

“But what?”

“Don’t you think… if vampires exist, then ghosts might exist too?”

“Hm… Sounds pretty funny comin’ from you, but nah, they don’t exist.” One corner of Yuma’s mouth curved upwards into a mocking grin. He let out a laugh. He seemed pretty convinced that ghosts were not a thing of this world.

CLATTER—!

“...!”

A clattering sound suddenly came from one of the classrooms. It startled Yui, making her tremble. “That wasn’t… in my head, was it?”

A lick of ice-cold fear slid down Yui’s spine. She quickly hid behind Yuma.

“You… Why’re you hiding? You’ve got some guts usin’ me as a shield.”

“B-but…” She could not find the words to speak—she was simply too scared. She crouched in on herself behind Yuma in an effort to hide.

The sound seemed to have come from the empty, unused classroom near them. It was pitch-black. Nobody seemed to be inside.

“I’m gonna go look.”

“What?! W-wait, Yuma!”

Yuma ignored Yui’s pleas and opened the door to the classroom. He thoroughly inspected the room, but still, there was not a soul in sight. As though expecting someone to be hiding, Yuma set foot into the classroom.

“Y-Yuma, don’t! It’s dangerous!”

“Ha! You’re scared shitless, aren’t ya? Just wait here. I’ll only have a quick look inside.”

The only thing coming in from outside was the sound of the rain. Not even a sliver of moonlight fell into the room. The ominous darkness gradually swallowed Yuma’s form whole as he walked farther away.

Oh no… If something comes out at me, I’ll…

Yui’s heart hammered against her ribcage, and just when her eyes inadvertently fluttered closed—she felt something brushing up against her leg. Goosebumps rose on her skin. She couldn’t keep her voice from leaking.

“Eek!”

Yuma rushed back when he heard her cry out, but still found no traces of anything lurking in the shadows close to where Yui was standing, nor in the deserted classroom. 

“Damn, don’t scream like that! I thought somethin’ happened!” 

“B-but… something… touched my leg…”

“What?! What the hell was it?”

In the end, the two never figured out what it could have been. The sky, still clouded with heavy rain, slowly started to become brighter.

“Shit. It’s close to mornin’ already. Hey, Sow? We should get back to Ruki ‘n the others. We’re done for today.”

“For today? You don’t mean…” A heavy sense of dread fell upon Yui, but she did not need to finish her sentence. 

The anxious look on her face made Yuma’s lips curl up into a sadistic smile.

“We’ll be back for round two tomorrow.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next night, Yui was accompanied by Azusa on their rounds through the school hallways. Yui kept a tight grip on Azusa’s left arm and had no intention of letting him go.

“Eve… If you hold on to me like that… it’s a bit difficult to move…”

“Oh! I-I’m sorry, Azusa! I’m still not quite used to this…”

“...”

“Azusa?”

“Ah… What is it…?”

Yui was even more unsettled by Azusa’s restlessness. He’s been lost in thought the entire time, she thought. 

“Hey, Azusa? Is something wrong…? You haven’t seen the… g-ghost, have you?”

“Huh? Oh, no… I haven’t.”

“Ah… That’s a relief.”

“Are you… really that scared? Then… here.”

“Huh…?”

Azusa came to a halt and pulled Yui into a hug with his other arm, gently patting her back as he whispered into her ear. “Eve… I’m here with you. Even if something comes after you… I’ll protect you. But… are you maybe worried… that it’s just me…?”

“No, not at all… Thank you. I think I might be a little less scared now.”

“I’m glad… to make myself useful.” Azusa smiled softly, but then his gaze quickly shifted to the window.

He really is worried about something… I wonder what’s gotten into him…

Once again, the night ended without them coming any closer to finding the source of the strange sound.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Along came the third night of exploring the academy.

Carefully calculating when the building would empty out, the five once again split up and made their rounds. The never-ending rain had abated into a drizzle for a brief moment, but before long, it was pouring once again. The weather showed no signs of letting up.

“It really won’t stop raining. It would be nice to be able to see the moon, though…”

The night sky was covered by heavy rain clouds. Yui had been looking out of the window while she was walking down the hall, but in the meantime, Ruki—who had been right next to her only a moment earlier—had already put several steps in between them. Yui half-ran to catch up to him.

“You seem awfully careless today. Have you already overcome your fear of ghosts?” 

“N-not exactly, but… This is the third day already, so it’s getting a little… Ah!”

Maybe Yui’s attention slipped because she was relieved to walk beside Ruki again, as she suddenly stumbled and nearly fell over. Ruki immediately extended his arms, swiftly catching Yui and keeping her from falling.

“T-thank you…”

“If you let down your guard like that, bad things will happen—like this, for example.”

“Huh…?”

The ominous tone of Ruki’s voice caught Yui’s attention. She tilted her face upwards to look at him.

Ruki looked pointedly somewhere behind her, nodding in the same direction as if to urge her to do the same. Yui’s hands were braced on his upper arms as he held her, and her grip only tightened at the thought of something being at her back.

“I-is something there?” 

Yui was hit by an indescribable wave of anxiety. Her breath involuntarily caught in her throat, but she bolstered her resolve and gingerly looked over her shoulder. 

There was nothing but the long, dark, gloomy hallway stretching out behind her.

“N-nothing’s there, right? Wait, were you… Huh…?”

“You said you’d gotten used to it, right? I figured I’d test you. It seems like you don’t have your fear under control just yet, though.”

“Ah…!”

Yui’s cheeks flushed bright red. Had Ruki really been toying with her, even though he knew she was scared?

“That’s not fair…! You can’t just play with me like that… I’ve gotten a little more used to walking through the dark hallways, but you know I’m scared of ghosts…!”

Yui crouched down on the ground, her face between her knees, both mortified and scared beyond her wits. Any regular male student might have been worried, might have tried to calm her down, but Ruki showed no signs of showing her such kindness.

“Don’t make a fuss. How long are you going to sit like that? If you don’t feel like moving, I’ll leave you here.” Quickly dismissing Yui’s worries, Ruki did not bother to cast her another glance and began walking away.

“Oh… W-wait up!”

Not knowing where to direct her fear and frustration with being ignored, Yui’s head was full of chaos. Still, she would not be able to bear being left alone like this, and so she hurried back to Ruki.

Yui felt herself grow stiff while she walked behind him. Just then, a strange sound reached her ears.

“...Did you hear that?”

“It came from that classroom. Do you want to check it out?”

It was a different sound from the one she had heard with Yuma the day before yesterday. This one clearly sounded like someone was rummaging around… and it kept going.

“Ruki…”

“There’s definitely someone here.”

Ruki opened the door to the classroom with great force.

The moonlight did not quite reach the room because of the heavy rain—it was darker than the hallway had been—and the unoccupied desks and chairs were nothing but eerie silhouettes. 

When Yui’s eyes had gotten used to the darkness, though, she saw someone standing there with her back to her—someone familiar. Recognition struck her.

“Huh… Azusa?” The words just slipped out.

At Yui’s surprised voice, Azusa slowly turned around to face them. He looked just as surprised to see them. “Eve… Ruki…” 

“Azusa? What are you doing here?” Ruki took a step forward and had barely finished speaking…

And then, it happened.

“Found you—!”

Yui looked in the direction of the voice reverberating through the hallway, she spotted Kou running towards them. Their eyes met. Kou raised his voice as if he’d known all along how this would end.

“Grab it, Kitten!”

“What?!”

Yui followed Kou’s finger pointing ahead. A small, black shadow darted out in front of him. Kou had clearly ordered her to catch it, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it right away. While she stood there hesitating for a moment, the black shadow collided with her chest on its own.

Out of sheer reflex, Yui wrapped her arms around it immediately. It felt heavier than she’d thought, and softer to the touch. The unexpected sensation almost made her drop it, but she regained her posture and held it tightly.

“Nice catch, Kitten!”

Kou was out of breath, having run at full speed, as he pointed at the black lump in Yui’s arms. “That’s… the cause… of the ghost story… the source of the sounds… is that cat.”

Yui suddenly realised she was holding a black cat. Its tail pointed upwards, the fur fluffed up as it eyed Kou suspiciously. In an effort to calm down the evidently upset cat, she gently stroked its back. “It’s okay… Don’t be scared…”

“Wow… Have you seen the way it’s staring at me?” Kou breathed. 

“Isn’t that because you were chasing it?”

“I had to! Of course it’s going to run if someone tries to catch it.”

“Hey, hey! What’s with all the—what the fuck! What’s that black thing?”

Yuma burst into the room after having heard the commotion. Yui had only just managed to calm down the cat a little, but in response to Yuma’s voice, the black cat’s tail fluffed up again.

“Whoa, that’s a pretty rough-lookin’ cat… But wait, what’s a cat doing on campus?”

A nod from Ruki confirmed his brother’s unspoken suspicions. “If this cat is the cause of the ghost story going around, I wonder how it managed to sneak into the academy and cause such an upheaval.”

If the cat had snuck in while the students and teachers were on campus, it could not have gone unnoticed. The fact that nobody was aware of a cat on campus must mean that it had snuck in sometime late at night, when the school was already empty.

However, that still begged the question how it came in. The campus was built in such a way that it seemed unlikely for the cat to have come inside easily. If that was the case, maybe someone had purposefully lured the cat inside and hidden it from everyone…

How did this little one even get here…? Yui was at a loss as she stared at the black ball of fur in her arms, but the only response she got from it was a loud meow.

Azusa, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly joined the conversation. “I’m sorry… Actually, this cat… is here because I was… looking after it…” He apologetically raised his right hand.

“Huh? Azusa, you’ve been taking care of this cat…?”

“Yeah… I’ll talk you through what happened…” Azusa began explaining the origins of the ghost story and how the cat had infiltrated the school. “About a month ago… I found this cat in the school courtyard, but…”

Azusa’s story went something like this: one day, he had found a weakened black kitten. He had given it something to eat and soon began to look after it. Even after it had mostly recovered, the heavy rain continued to fall, and Azusa had felt the need to keep checking in on it out of sheer worry. 

As he suspected, the cat had fallen ill again after a while. Azusa had pitied the little black cat and made sure to gently stroke it and talk to it. Eventually, he brought it to this classroom so he could take better care of it.

“Oh, Azusa, you’re too kind,” Kou said, carefully approaching the cat so as to not startle it, and petted it. The cat seemed to have gotten a little more used to him. It was more docile now, allowing Kou’s gentle touch.

“That’s not… true… In the end, I only… ended up scaring the cat…”

“What do you mean?”

“When the cat became healthier… I got a little careless… After it escaped from this classroom where I’d been taking care of it… I lost track of where it went…”

“So that means this cat roamed the school at night, and the kids mistook the sounds it made for a ghost… and that led to the ghost story?”

Azusa nodded in response to Yuma’s question. “I think those sounds… must have been the cat running away or playing around… and when I couldn’t find it for a while… it must have been hiding somewhere… because it was scared…”

“Yeah, that’s fair… It’s pretty scary to be chased around, after all.”

Kou nodded exaggeratedly, but the brothers’ reactions were pretty mild overall, as though these kinds of things happened on the regular. Yui thought it strange, but tried to gloss over it by shooting Azusa one more question.

“The students were talking about an ‘arm wrapped in bandages’ poking out from the darkness… So that was…”

“Yeah… They must have seen… me. As soon as I heard the rumours about the ghost… and knowing about the cat, it just clicked… so, lately… I’ve been looking for it by myself…”

“Ha… so that’s it. That ghost story was brought to life just ‘cause of Azusa and this black cat.”

“Good grief… You certainly caused trouble.”

With all questions answered, Yuma and Ruki looked even more exasperated than before.

“Azusa… Of all places to take care of a cat, you should not have done it at school. If you’d just taken it home, it wouldn’t have caused such a stir.” (2)

“I thought it might… bother you…”

“Well, that’s Azusa for you. But this wouldn’t have inconvenienced us at all! We’re brothers, right?” Kou said light-heartedly in an effort to cheer up Azusa, whose eyes were downcast.

“Of course. Don’t be so reserved, Azusa.”

Touched by the kindness of his brothers, Azusa smiled cheerily. “Yeah… Thank you, all of you…”

“So, uh… What do we do with the cat?” When Yui handed the cat over to Azusa, it began loudly purring in his arms.

“How about we bring it home with us?”

“I don’t mind either.”

The cat could suffer a grim fate if we leave it here like this and someone else finds it… What if it becomes weak again? What if it dies?

“Ruki… Would it be alright if we took it home?”

Everyone’s eyes naturally shifted to Ruki.

“We can’t decide that so easily. If the cat belongs to someone who lives somewhere around the campus, shouldn’t we return it to its home? Don’t they say that dogs tend to be attached to their masters, and cats are attached to their homes?”

Ruki had a point, but Kou was not yet convinced, especially seeing how Azusa felt for the cat he’d been taking care of for so long. “But look how attached it is to Azusa…”

“Thank you, Kou… I’m alright… The cat’s happiness is… the most important, after all…”

“Well, if Azusa’s fine with it, then I’m fine with it… Ah, I’m so tired from chasing the cat. Hey, Kitten. Can I lay my head in your lap (3) when we get home?”

“What?!”

The subject of the conversation shifted from the cat to something else so quickly that it almost gave Yui whiplash. 

When Yuma joined in as well, it became even more confusing. “Hey, Kou. You’re not the only one who’s tired! You don’t get to keep all the fun for yourself.”

“But I worked really hard, you know? Don’t you think I deserve to ask for a small reward?”

“I don’t. I ran pretty damn hard myself! Hell, I was the only one who actually ran.”

“What? How do you know? I definitely ran the hardest!”

“Nah, I did!”

“I’m telling you, I did!”

Kou and Yuma’s bickering escalated quickly, neither of them realising their fight was getting farther and farther away from the issue at hand.

“Christ, this is not worth fighting over.”

“But… it’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

Ruki averted his eyes, clearly fed up with his brothers’ antics, while Azusa warmly watched over the two.

It would be nice if they forgot about the laying–his-head-in-my-lap thing, too… Yui thought. When her gaze flicked to the window, she noticed that the rain that had plagued the city, pouring incessantly for days on end, had let up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A little while later, the black cat left the campus, and the ghost story that had haunted the academy quickly receded into the students’ and teachers’ memories.

THE END

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

家鳴（やな）り：Lit. the ‘rattling of a house,’ meaning things like creaking windows, the air vents, the sounds you sometimes hear when the walls or window panes expand due to moisture or heat, things like that.

Not a translation note but Ruki, sir, with your history of ‘taking care’ of cats, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea…

膝枕（ひざまくら）: Lit. ‘knee/lap pillow,’ meaning to use someone’s lap as a pillow, laying your head in someone’s lap.

[thevelria]

I'm gonna make you mine... adult!Trunks x fem!reader (NSFW)

This story was a request from the lovely @sacredwarrior88 I do hope you're gonna like it <3

Summary: Y/N gave up on love a long ago, Trunks on the other hand fell in love with her the second they met. Oh and did I mention Trunks is Y/N's boss at the Capsule Corp? Warnings: swearing, heavy smut, going rough

“5 more minutes” you whined, trying to reach your phone on the nightstand and turn off that irritating ringtone you picked for the alarm. Rolling left and right in the bed, performing a smaller tantrum, finally you swung your legs to the side of the bed. Taking a huge breath and mentally preparing yourself for the day to begin.

“Am I too old to get a sugar daddy?” you wondered, while brushing your teeth with eyes closed. After you got ready in the bathroom you had to face the fact you had no idea what to wear. “Does the company have a dress code at all?” you frowned, browsing between your clothes in the wardrobe. A black tight skirt with buttons on the left side and a white also buttoned up blouse you picked. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna be late.” you cursed, trying to slide into your classic black heels, before grabbing your stuff and rushing to your car. 

Traffic. Yeah, you totally forgot about the traffic. “I cannot believe I’m gonna be late on my first day. Maybe it’s a sign, right? I should just go home. I can find another job somewhere else.” you bubbled, totally zoned out. A loud honk and an ever louder yell snapped you back to reality. “Move, bitch! It’s not gonna be any greener!” You rolled your eyes, while stepping on the gas and holding your forearm out of the window, flipping the bird.

“What did they say? Which floor?” you panicked, feeling totally lost in the building of the Capsule Corp. You held your papers close to your face, totally blocking the view from you. As you kept walking you bumped into someone. It felt like you'd walked into a brick wall. “What the…?” you lowered the documents, noticing a quite handsome man standing in front of you. His lavender hair and mesmerizing blue eyes made you blink twice.

“I’m so sorry, I should have…” -you bubbled, embarrassed.

“First day?” he pulled the sweetest smile ever.

“Yeah and I’m so lost.” you chuckled awkwardly.

“I’m Trunks” he held out his hand for a shake “Give me your paper and let me guide you to your workplace.”

“I’m Y/N” you accepted the offer, wondering how someone can be this beautiful.

Hushing the unholy thoughts out of your head as you followed him. You were completely shocked, his suit showed his perfectly builded body, his round ass and that back…that muscled back you would love to dig your nails in. Even if you gave up on love a long ago it didn’t mean you were blind and didn’t have needs. And Trunks looked just like your next mistake. 

“Here we are.” he opened the office door for you. Everyone in the room jumped up from their chair, bowing slightly, murmuring “Good morning, boss”.

“Boss?” your eyes widened, turning your face to Trunks.

“What? Oh yeah…” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck “I’m the CEO here.”

“Holy shit!” you slammed your palm against your mouth “I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t know. I had no idea…” 

“Shh…” he hushed you, laughing “It was fun. Hope to see you soon.” he winked at you before leaving. 

You tried your best, focusing on your task, trying to adjust to the environment, to the nice people around you, but deep down you were daydreaming about your boss. Thinking about things, which you shouldn’t have. But who could blame you? Trunks was way too attractive. On the other hand Trunks was sitting in his big ass boss chair in his office at the top floor of the company. Tapping his foot to the rhythm of a random song he was listening to. Finding himself smiling, while thinking about you. 

“She’s so freaking beautiful.” he sighed, laying back in the chair, resting his hands behind his head, biceps flexing. “Is it professional, if I ask her out? I mean, why not. It’s not against any policy of the company. Not to mention I’m the fucking boss here, I can do what I want.” he fought with his thoughts. 

The next few days you bumped into Trunks every single morning, at first you thought it was just a coincidence, but after the 3rd “accident” it felt weird. Like he would have been waiting for you, talking about totally meaningless things, like how the weather was, how you felt at the company, were you satisfied with the equipment and things like that. Thursday was the day, when he asked you to have a cup of coffee with him, before starting your day.

“The cafeteria is the other way.” you cleared your throat.

“What? No! We’re not gonna drink that dish water, it’s gross. I have, on the other hand, a super cool coffee machine in my office. You get to choose from hundreds of types of coffee. You’re gonna love it!” he blabbered with sparkling eyes. He didn’t even notice how excited he got about the fact of you having a coffee with him. 

His office was huge, nothing like any other office on the lower floors. Huge windows caged the whole room, brightness danced across. All the furniture matched, giving you some serious, but still gentle vibes. Some relics on different shelves and his sword on the wall above a big, leather couch. Your eyes glued to the sword, while holding your cup of extra super special boosted coffee. Actually you had no idea what you chose, you just picked the first one on the list and hoped it was going to be tasty. 

“It’s so beautiful.” you pointed at the sword on the wall.

“So are you…” Trunks tried to whisper.

“What?” you frowned, turning to face him, because you couldn’t hear him clearly. You might have heard him calling you beautiful, but it would have been surreal, right? 

“I…I said it indeed is. And also pretty useful.” he grabbed the grip, swinging the sword, showing off his skills. Your eyes widened at the sight, he looked so damn hot, you had to fight the urge of jumping on him. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?” Trunks giggled, witnessing your shocked look.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, sir. I just moved into this town a few weeks ago.”

“Just call me Trunks, please.” he smiled, placing the sword back at its holder. “I don’t even remember when was the last time I met someone who didn’t know me. It feels great, truly great.” he took a deep breath. “I’m usually not like this, but Y/N…” he stepped closer, reaching for your hand “May I ask you out for a date?”

“Sorry, what?” you almost choked on your coffee.

“I have no idea what happened to me, but since I first saw you I cannot get you out of my mind. I just…I need to get to know you, I need to make you mine.”

“Thank you for the coffee, sir.” you cleared your throat, placing the now empty cup on the coffee table. “It’s time for me to start the day.” you span on your heels and were about to leave, when he gently grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be disrespectful, really. But you are so beautiful, it drives me crazy.”

“Don’t say sorry. But I don’t date.”

“You don’t date your boss?” he raised one of his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t date at all. Love is dead to me, I gave up on it long ago. It’s the best way to keep your heart safe.” you sighed with so much in your voice. Trunks kept silent, letting you leave this time. 

2 weeks have passed and you didn’t see or hear from Trunks. You felt relieved, at first you truly believed he was going to fire you. But since nothing like that happened so far, it proved to you that Trunks was not a big headed, rich business man. 

Clocking out and driving home felt somehow different this day. You felt uneasy, but had no idea why. The second you parked your car you spotted the huge bouquet in front of your door. A tiny card hidden between the flowers was waiting for you. “Even if I tried, I cannot get you out of my head. Please have dinner with me!” The blush crawled upon your face rapidly, you slightly shook your head as you walked in the house with a huge smile on your face. A few hours have passed, when someone knocked on the front door. 

“Just a second!” you yelled, getting up from the couch in your typical evening outfit. The second you opened the door your breath stuck in your throat.

“What are you doing here?” was the only thing you could have pressed out from your mouth “How do you know my address at all?”

“I’m sorry that I…” Trunks looked nervous. “Your address is in the company’s system, so I just checked it.” he scratched the back of his neck. “Please, let me take you out for dinner. Please!” he begged. “If you won’t have fun I’m going to leave you alone, I swear. Just give me a chance, okay?”

Trunks was wearing light blue jeans with a buttoned up white shirt and a dark gray suit jacket. His whole outfit followed his body and showed his toned figure. Water ran through your mouth, when you rested your eyes on his sight. You bit your lower lip, before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him inside the house. Shutting the door behind him, pressing him against the front door. 

“Y/N…what are you doing?” he looked confused.

“This is what you want, don’t you?” you leaned in, lips almost touching. His Adam’s apple bobbed, because you were right. He fantasized about you since the day he laid his eyes on you. The second Trunks nodded slightly, you released his shirt, smirking. Guiding him into your bedroom, closing the door behind him. His huge palms grabbed you, pulling you in and pressing his hungry lips against yours. You smiled into the kiss as you felt how eager his tongue was to find yours. His hands wandered up and down on your body, squeezing your ass hard. 

“Let me make something clear…” you said, while freeing him from his shirt, leaving him half naked.

“Anything, darling.” he kissed into your neck.

“It’s gonna be just sex, nothing else. I’m not gonna date you. I’m gonna use you for my own good. Do you understand that?”

“Y/N…” he tried to argue, but you pushed him slightly back, licking his abs. “Fuck” he growled, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down on the bed. The arrogant smirk on your face turned him on even more. 

Trunks towered himself above you in an instant. Seeing his flexed muscles drove you wild. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss, as it deepened it got slopier second by second. His hand started to explore your body, running his palm up and down until it found its way under your shirt. Eagerly trying to free you from the cloth, pulling it above your head and tossing it aside, leaving you half naked.

“God, you’re so damn hot” he clenched his jaw, before his huge palm cupped your breast, squeezing it hard.

“Hm, I like that” you moaned.

“Do you?” his husky voice sent shivers down your spine “And what about this? Hm? You like that too?” he asked, as his fingers slid down on your body into your pants, softly rubbing your cloth covered pussy.

“I love it” you breathed heavily. “Trunks…” you moaned his name as he slid one of his fingers between your folds.

“Look at you.” he teased “Already so wet for me.”

“Shut up, you were fucking hard the moment I pressed you against the front door”

“True” he laughed, while freeing you from all of your clothes and starting to rub your clit with his thumb.

“Fucking hell.” you grabbed the sheet next to you.

He leaned in, kissing you again with so much passion it made your body jello, licking your neck, biting it hard. You knew he marked you, but the way he started to pump his two fingers in and out of your wet pussy kept you busy. His name rolled down from your lips, turning into lustful moans as you felt your climax was about to burst out.

“I’m gonna…I’m so close” you whined.

“Come for me, princess” he growled, keeping up the pace.

As he kept fingering you faster and faster you couldn’t hold it back anymore and rode your climax under him. After you finished, you pulled him into the deepest kiss ever, grabbing his shoulders and flipping him under you. You freed Trunks from his pants in an instant, admiring his huge, hard cock.

“Hm…” you smirked, spitting on it, then palming it immediately.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he threw his head back in the pillow. “You are so bad” he breathed heavily, as you kept palming him up and down. 

“But you love it, don’t you?” you clicked your tongue, slowly positioning him to your entrance. The second you lowered yourself down on his hard shaft you both let out an animalistic growl. It felt good, way too good. He filled you perfectly and the way your walls clenched around him drove him wild. He grabbed your ass hard, slapping your cheek and started pounding you without mercy.

“Fuck, yes” you moaned.

“You like it?” he hissed, grabbing your neck with one of his hands, choking you slightly.

“I love it, Trunks.” you placed your hands above his, gripping it tight “I like it rough” you smirked. This drove him insane, he grabbed your waist and in a second you were under him once again.

“Get on your stomach” he commanded and you obeyed without any hesitation.

“Lord…you are so big” you gasped as he entered you in an instant.

“You can take me, yeah? I’m sure you can take all of me.” he pushed himself in entirely. “Fuck, baby, you are so tight.” he bubbled under his nose. 

Pounding you roughly, gripping into the flesh of your hips, leaving behind marks pushed you closer to your climax.

“Trunks, I’m about to…” your words died mid sentence into a loud moan as you felt your orgasm rushing through your body.

“Come, baby, come on my cock.” he gritted his teeth, fucking you as fast as he could. The sound of the skin to skin contact and your lustful whines pushed him to his edge as well. “Y/N” his voice almost cracked from the unbearable pleasure “Baby I’m gonna cum…”

“I’m on birth control” you looked at him above your shoulder “Fill me up good” 

He didn’t need more, the second your words left your mouth you felt him twitching, pulsing inside of you. He thrusted once or twice more, before pulling out and dropping himself down next to you. 

“That was good” you giggled, pecking a quick kiss on his lips. “Let’s get a shower” trying to get up from the bed.

“Don’t you wanna stay a bit? Hugging or something?” he smiled, grabbing your wrist.

“For what?” you frowned “I’m literally dripping from your cum” you rolled your eyes.

“Fair enough” he laughed out loud. 

In the shower you had sex, twice more. After you finished and finally came out, you put on some PJ, crawled into your bed and was about to fall asleep. “Please lock the door behind you as you leave” you murmured. Trunks' eyes widened. He didn’t know what he actually expected, but he didn’t think for a second that you would kick him out. As he slowly got dressed and grabbed his stuff you fell asleep. He stepped next to your bed, watching for a few seconds as you peacefully slept. “I’m gonna make you mine” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. 

[letmeapologise]

can i request a dad!erling imagine in which him and the reader have a baby boy and he’s all over the moon with everything he does and the reader is all 🥹 because their baby is a carbon copy of erling in every way!

❝ 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 ❞

.ೃ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ! 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰 𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐟 𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ✰ ´ˎ˗

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⌇ 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 ੈ✩‧₊˚

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⌇ 𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

ೄྀ࿐ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⌇ 𝟐.𝟎𝐤 !

↳ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐎𝐋. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 "𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝😭" 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 !

AFTER WHAT FELT LIKE TWO FULL DAYS, but in reality was a couple of hours, you pushed your first baby out. A baby boy. You and Erling had both decided on a name weeks, if not months, in advance; so after he had doted on you, ensuring you had a drink, food, making sure you weren’t in any pain, and anything else that you may have needed or was on your mind. He brought in the paperwork for you to sign to say you confirmed the name, Emil. It was like a switch flicked when he was born, you saw glimpses of his frown looking back and forth at him by your side and the nurse by your legs comforting and motivating you to push. 

His face after he was born turned from one of concern to that of awe and admiration, the same look he would give you while fondling your pregnant stomach, but amplified tenfold more. His mouth slightly agape, in shock, you swore he was almost crying when he held him for the first time; watching his sleeping face resting on his palm, his son’s head smaller than it.

He tucked his bottom lip in, likely trying to compose himself in front of you seeing as you wouldn’t want to do anymore crying after two hours’ worth of labour. You had already held him, of course, but seeing Erling holding your son made you want to tear up even more.

You breathed in deeply, wiping your face with your hand as a nurse kindly passed you five or six tissues as you thanked her groggily, rolling one up and pressing it against your nose and face. You slipped out of the side of the hospital bed, two nurses immediately offered to help you to the bathroom but Erling waved them off politely, insisting he would, leaving the baby in a cot to be overseen by the nurses accompanying you momentarily.

“At least wanna do something,” he had said, you scoffed, laughing and teasing him. “You did do something, you helped make this baby in the first place!” he rolled his eyes and glared at you, helping you down to the toilet while he held the door shut from the outside in case you struggled with the lock.

While he held the door shut from prying eyes, he couldn’t help but stare at his newborn son, it didn’t seem real. He couldn’t believe there was a baby lying around nine feet away from him that was a combination of both himself and you. He felt as if he would wake up tomorrow and he would be gone, he just dreamed it up. He panicked for a split second, what if he hurt him? What if he couldn’t raise him properly? What if he couldn’t spend time with his son due to work?

His mind was racing with possibilities, but you lightly tapping on the door the other side woke him out of it.

The door swung open and he smiled at you. This was a team effort, and at least he wasn’t raising him alone. You, the embodiment of perfection and kindness would surely set your son off on the right path; he just wanted to help you in any way shape or form while you did so, you helping their baby while he helped his. He walked you back towards your baby, spread out in its crib, quietly cooing to itself.

“Should I get the car seat?” Erling asked you, you just nodded, sitting down next to the crib and simply watching your baby. Your baby, you could say that now. He was here. He was real. He walked back in with the car seat, adjusting it and balancing it against a chair opposite yours and gently picked up Emil, cradling him in his arms and placing him – all swaddled up in blankets, a matching hat, and complimentary nappy – as if he was a fine piece of china about to smash into a million pieces, into the car seat.

He strapped him up and then held in sideways so he remained lying down for good measure, and you both walked your way to the car, you slowly hobbling while complaining about stomach pains.

“I’ll get you some ibuprofen when we get home, yeah?” he had said, but his eyes never broke off of the baby’s, and you didn’t blame him. It was around this time that Erling started mumbling to himself about parking the car closer to the emergency room entrance, you however just laughed as Emil started kicking his legs in the air.

“He’s gonna be a footballer just like daddy,” Erling just grinned at you, not expressing the way he imagined kicking a ball about in your garden with his son. He hadn’t even considered that before, the fact that his son might continue on in his footsteps as he did with his.

You continued cooing at the baby until you finally reached the car, the cold air nipping at your cheeks and nose until they bloomed a red colour. You tightened the blankets around Emil, tucking his beanie over his ears so he doesn’t get too chilly, and then fastened him up in the passenger seat next to Erling, then you went to the back. “I’m not used to this,” you had confessed, chuckling to yourself and doing up your own seatbelt, hearing the click and soon after Erling’s.

He turned to face you in the backseat, eyes wrinkling up. “Having a baby?” he joked. “Do you have experience in that sector?” you waved him off, rolling his eyes. “Sitting in the back, not next to you. Guess I’m gonna have to get used to it,” he scoffed. “Jealous of a baby born half an hour ago?” you narrowed your eyes at him interrogatively, furrowing your brows and he raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“Watch yourself or I’m gonna start saying some things the baby won’t wanna be hearing,” he laughed, then turned the engine on. “Don’t think he can understand anything yet, can you?” he cooed at his son, reversing out of the parking spot and checking behind him in the car mirror.

“What do you think his first word is gonna be?” you asked. “Hope it’s mama and not dada,” you added, Erling scoffed, making a turn down the road and away from the hospital. “You’re gonna have to get used to crying, Erl. You’re gonna be doing a lot of it now he’s here,” you admitted, recollecting his tearful eyes threatening to spill out and wet his cheeks earlier on.

“I know,” he murmured. “Imagine his first day of school,” you gasped. “I won’t be able to cope for the whole week, you’ll have to get me a bucket to cry into before I wave him off.” He looked at you, frowning through the car mirror. “He’s only just been born, babe. You’re still stuck changing nappies for the next three years.”

You huffed, glaring at him and jabbing an accusatory finger at him while staring at the car mirror.

“You mean you?” he met your eyes through the mirror, grinning. “I’ll be the one breastfeeding. So you better put your shift in, just ‘cause you’re doing football doesn’t mean you won’t be changing nappies and feeding him at three am. Let me have my beauty sleep, Mr. Haaland,” he laughed, mumbling something out the car window as he rolled it down just a bit, placing the smaller side of his palm against Emil’s head to check his temperature, softly pulling into the driveway and picking up Emil, still in the baby car seat, taking him into the house and creaking up the stairs – internally cursing himself as the noise threatened to wake Emil up – and placing him down in the bassinet next to yours and his shared bed.

The car seat was now left abandoned in the corner of the room, both of you huddled around your son’s crib.

That’s where he remained for the majority of the first couple of weeks, if you were being brutally honest, aside from midnight nappy runs in which Erling partook in, you just rocked him back and forth in your arms and whispered nursery rhymes to him. Baa-baa black sheep was his favourite so far, most likely due to your passionate attempts at mimicking sheep noises that he giggled and clapped his hands at. You had recorded his first laugh as Erling missed it, he returned home having watched the video grumbling to himself and persisting that he wanted to make him laugh.

Which then evolved into a challenge between you both on who could make Emil laugh the most. At his teammate’s wedding he wasn't paying attention to the procession, and kept telling you that he was sure Emil was going to laugh at him any second now, just cupping his hands over his face and exclaiming peek-a-boo in the worst possible moments. Yet he stayed adamant – he was going to laugh any second now – despite it being two or three more months of ‘any second now’ he finally laughed.

Erling practically sprinted to you while you were having a nap, shaking your shoulders. “Baby, baby. He laughed!” he repeated, you looked up at him groggily, unable to process what he was saying to you in your sleep induced state. “He laughed!” you whipped your head round, rubbing your eyes and then widening them, racing him back to your baby as he followed after you with gleaming eyes and smile lines up to his ears.

Emil on the other hand was utterly oblivious to your smiles, just throwing his blocks around and bubbling to himself. He watched as you both sat down in front of him, you resting on your knees and Erling cross-legged looking expectantly at his four month year old son. He imitated what he did earlier, grabbing a pillow from beside you and popping his head around it, Emil smiled at him with his chubby cheeks, big brown eyes batting his eyelashes at his dad, but he didn’t smile.

Erling groaned and his face dropped. “He did laugh, I believe you, babe,” you rubbed his arm comfortingly.

“Hey, do you wanna go outside with dada and play football?” you nodded up and down at your son, rising back to your feet with your hands resting on your thighs. “Yeah? Go in the garden with dada?” he nodded, Erling already making his way into the garden upon hearing your suggestion, a small inflatable ball in his hand. “Dada,” Emil imitated and your mouth fell agape, eyes widened. Erling dropped the ball, snapping his neck around and running to his son, lifting him in the air and spinning him around. “I knew it! I knew it!” he laughed, you covered your mouth with your hand, his first word.

You should have been celebrating, you were, but it was dada, not mama. 

He was definitely rubbing that in later, but for now you simply congratulated your son and yourself. “I said it, he said it ‘cause I said it,” you shrugged, trying to relieve yourself. “He said dada,” he beamed at you, carefully placing your son back on the floor and giving him a small hug, ruffling his hair.

“You better be celebrating this much when he says mama,” you grumbled, Erling huffed with laughter at you. You faked a frown at your son. “Why do you have to be his biggest fan? Is he your favourite parent?” you teased, gasping at your son in an attempt for him to copy you and make him imitate your facial expression.

Erling chuckled to himself, phone in hand likely texting a friend about the milestone achievement. “Go and grab the ball, Emil. Go get it!” you encouraged, grinning at him. Erling rolled the ball over as your son crawled towards it, half-slapping it and grabbing it with both hands. Erling picked him up with the ball still in his hands. “Yeah, go play football with dada. You Haaland clone,” you teased, groaning to yourself. “Carried you for nine months ‘n’ this is how you repay me!” you started chasing after Erling, both of you giggling as Emil squealed in his hands.

“I’m gonna get you!”

୨୧ @𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ୨୧

[grokebaby]

[Present day]

The "Case"

"Nyevilicus, we need to talk." Mewmew said, entering the room. Something about ms presence held a seriousness that Evie didn't like, but alas. It must be important if ms bothering-err interacting with them. Truth be told, Mewmew and Evilicus had been floating quite far from each other lately despite living in the same house. After Evilicus' return, and the initial confrontation it brought, things had sort of settled.

"Very well.. I'm listening." they said, reserved, sitting down. The kitchen was dim with the orange of sunset coming through the cracks in the curtains. Dusk being one of the most frequent times they happened to interact at all, seeing their differences in daily rhythm. That, or their differences of native planets..

"So, please understand that iyam coming to you about this with good intentions, I only want what's the best for everyone, alright? Please hear me out til I've finished speaking. I have nyour best interest in mind as well." Mewmew started prefacing ms future statement, and suddenly it all felt heaps more frightening than before. Evie will have to prepare to swallow more now. Perhaps it was about time, after some of the revelations they'd had earlier.. Maybe it'll be good. But it'll certainly sting.

"Okay.. I'm ready, then.."

"Alright, good. Good! Um." Mewmew tapped ms paws on the table. Mews expression became sort of.. Gentler. Something about it made Evie's stomach drop, and they couldn't explain why. They must've done something wrong. "So, I wanted to just say that if you ever need.. Support, for dealing with your emotions, or.. Ways to manage them constructively.." Oh, now it's just embarrassing. They shrunk further into their armor, but kept listening nonetheless.

"Please, just let me know. Okay? I've dealt with these things too, and it.. It'll help you feel better too! I assure you. I'm nyat here to judge you, I'm not enrolled in the alliance, okay, everything here is just everyday business. Nyalright?" Mewmew concluded, ears slightly drawn back. Was that a good sign? It feels like ms holding something back.

Evilicus only nodded.

Mewmew seemed relieved. To some extent.. "Alright. Alright, good! Thank nya for listening. I'm proud of you. Just, please leave the livestock alone, it's very important to the humans living here."

...

......

".. What?"

"Mrrp?"

"What do you. What livestock? You mean earthly animals?"

Mewmew looked like m braced mself for something for a second, as if m wanted to sigh. "Nyou.. Know what I'm talking about.."

There was an increasing silence between them, as they looked between each other. Evilicus glanced around the room, as if the answers would magically spawn out of something. Anything?

".. What?"

"...."

"....."

"Evilicus." Mewmew said, though firmly, now with increasing emotion in ms voice. Evie couldn't really tell what it was, but hoped not anger, nor disappointment. Still reeling from the sudden comeuppance of unknown conversation topics, Evilicus scratched their face. "I uhm.. I really don't know what you're talking about here.. S..sorry.." their voice grew smaller and smaller towards the end. Mewmew shot them a look, as if in disbelief, although parts of it had to be some form of discomfort. "Ih-"

Mew took a breath in. "The farmers in this town have reported.. Increasing cases where their livestock - like, sheep, cows.. Have been.. Killed. They suspected wild nyanimals at first, but.. The livestock wasn't really eaten that much and.." Mew grew uncomfortable.

".. And?"

"And the cases were just starting to look more.. Like.. Brutalized. And it-" Mew breathed out heavily, fidgeting. "It doesn't look like anything a wild animal could do. Anymore.." m concluded, now facing Evilicus razor sharply in the eyes. "I wanted to come to you about this.. Fairly. In a fair manner. Which is why I brought up the-the managing of feewings, and-"

"And so, wait, you think.. You think I did this?" Evilicus put their hand on the table, their whole presence tense.

"-Out of anger, or vengeance maybe, something, I don't know but we can talk about it-"

"I did not do that. What reason do I have to take my emotions out on animals? Nor the townspeople?? And on another note, I've barely left this house since coming back!" Evilicus stood up from their chair, blood racing under their skin. They could hear it clearly, echoing off the metal. Mewmew stood up as well, partway, putting ms paws up defensively. As if pacifying a frightened animal.

"I said we can talk about this, Villy, if you did do it-"

"I DIDN'T."

Silence fell between them once again. Oh, this is way worse than what they could've anticipated. Doing something wrong and being told about it gently? Sure. But hearing something bad happened and immediately assuming blame on Evilicus themself? Decrepid.

It's not that Mewmew wouldn't be valid to doubt the moral of their actions - it's plenty understandable. No, what's terrifying about this situation is that it's just plausible enough to blame on Evilicus. And knowing their history, they really, Really don't have enough alibi to prove otherwise.

A cruel twist of fate.

It's almost.. Too convenient. Isn't it.

Evilicus swallowed.

"Look, I know you don't have.. Much, to trust me on my word yet," their voice trembled, heat flashing their forehead. "But I swear.. I've not left this house. I've not spoken to anyone but you. Nor seen anyone. But you. Ever since I returned." they continued, feverishly, feeling the seconds tick by, feeling how their dark and dingy heart was now resting soft, still beating, on Mewmews paws. Their only grace, only mercy, only other person in this cosmos right now.

And they cannot lose it.

Mewmew looked between their eyes, as if searching - desperately, for something. For a shred of trust. For a bit of patience within mew. To believe this, and walk the path m set on when deciding to do all this for Evilicus at all.

Those few seconds were the longest of their life.

Mew sighed. "Alright.. I believe you. I'm sorry. It's just.. It worried me, and I.. Sorry." Mew blinked a few times, leaning back on ms chair. And it's no wonder mew seemed defeated by this, because if they chose to believe Evilicus instead of the rest of the scene, they'd both have to grapple with the next question.

Who's doing this?

[aquagirl1978]

Little Lies - Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader

A/N: Part of the Late Summer Rendezvous hosted by @xxsycamore. This prompt was suggested to me by @gilbertvonobsidian and the idea has haunted me since.

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader

Prompt: Forced to share a tent while camping

Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI

“No! Absolutely not. No way.” You stood with your arms crossed, a deep frown etched on your lips, ready to stomp your foot like an angry child.

“It’s your only option. Every other tent is filled.” 

“You can share my tent,” Nokto offered, a sultry smirk gracing his handsome face as he leered at you.

“No,” Licht replied. “There’s no room in our tent.”

“But we could make room…” Nokto was immediately elbowed in the ribs by Yves who was standing next to him. 

“Am I invisible to you? Do you think I would leave Licht in a tent alone with you?”

Jin shook his head, leaving his younger brothers to squabble amongst themselves. “As I was saying…” he continued. “This here is the only tent that has room in it.”

You let out a loud, exasperated sigh as two loud voices filled the air. 

“Unless you want to stay with those two?” Jin motioned his thumb towards Rio and Silvio who were yapping at each other like two rambunctious dogs. 

“Definitely no. I’ll take my chances with –” 

The sound of a cane tapping was soft against the dirt, your body trembling at its familiar sound.

Gilbert tilted his head as he gazed at you tenderly. “The little rabbit has finally agreed to stay in my tent?”

“Not by choice,” you replied. “And there needs to be some ground rules.”

Gilbert’s eye widened, glittering in the setting sun, as he leaned on his cane. “Such as?” When you stared at him silently, he let out a soft breath. “I’m not really in the mood to get violent today.”

“Okay, then.” Your stomach was in a knot of unease as you began walking towards his tent, Gilbert following just a few paces behind.

*****

“Why does your tent have to be so far away from the others?” you asked as you navigated the narrow trail, paying careful attention to not trip over tree roots or rocks. 

“No one wants to be near the villain.” Your gaze met his, and for a split second, you swore you saw a flash of sadness. But that was quickly replaced with his amicable smile. “I didn’t want to be anywhere near those yapping dogs.”

You continued to follow the path, the space between your bodies growing smaller as you approached Gilbert’s tent.

*****

“That was quite the performance you put on back there, little rabbit.” 

He brushed your hair to the side, his mouth a whisper’s breath away from your neck. “Did you mean what you said earlier?” he asked, his teeth grazing your skin sending tingles down your spine.

“This is precisely what I was afraid would happen,” you replied with a soft sigh. Tilting your head slightly, you further exposed your neck, your vulnerability, to Gilbert. Your breath hitched as his teeth sank into your sweet skin, the sting of his bite a delicious pain you had grown used to, maybe even loved.

“What happened to no violence today?” Your gaze, cast down, met his rose-red eye. 

“Biting is not violence.” His voice was as soft as a whisper, his breath tickling your skin as his gloved fingertip traced the outline of the fresh mark he just left. “It is a sign of my affection for you.”

“And I have a great deal of affection for you.”

Gasping loudly, your eyelids closed as Gilbert bit you again, this time on the slope of your shoulder. His teeth pieced your skin, never deep enough to cut, but enough to leave his impression on your skin. 

*****

“I should punish you.” Gilbert’s face loomed over yours, his amicable smile replaced with a stern expression. “Don’t make that face,” he said, his voice softening as he cupped your cheek in his palm. “You know I don’t like liars.”

Your body writhed under his vise-like hold, his body pinning yours to the ground beneath you. His usual smile returned as he watched you, clearly enjoying playing with his prey. 

“I didn’t lie,” you whispered back. “I was only doing what you’ve done so many times before - keeping a secret.” 

Gilbert let out a soft groan, your words hitting their targeted destination. “That was low, little rabbit.” He pressed his mouth against your skin, your nipple stiffening as he swiped his tongue against it, your moan low as his teeth dug into your skin.

His gaze flicked up to meet yours, his tongue darting out to lick your wound. “There’s no need to hold back.” Another lick. “No one can hear you out here.”

"If we're going to do this…" you said, lifting your hand and gently removing Gilbert's eyepatch, "I want to see your face."

*****

The bedroll in the tent was surprisingly plush; you knew then that this was Gilbert's goal from the beginning. Your fingers tangled in his dark, messy locks as soft sighs slipped from your lips. His hands spread your legs wide, his fingertips tracing the marks he left earlier as his tongue teased your clit.

"Gil….ahhh…" Your body squirmed under his ministrations, his tongue torturing you as he teased your most sensitive spot. 

Just a little bit more, and you were almost there. Almost.

Gilbert lifted his head, shifting his body away from where you needed him most. An embarrassing whimper left your lips as the cruel prince laughed. 

“I told you I was going to punish you tonight,” he said, his erection stiff against your thigh. Your moans were soft as he entered you, getting louder as he stretched you. “Be as loud as you like,” he coaxed as he thrust deep inside you. “No one else can hear you out here. Just me. And the trees. And the moon and the stars.”

His name escaped your throat with a ragged breath as he bottomed out in you, his mouth covered yours, his hips slamming against yours in a cruel and merciless pace. 

The flames inside your belly burned bright, their embers stoked by every stroke of Gilbert’s shaft hitting deep inside. Your arms clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin, leaving marks of your own on his pale skin. 

When he was close, he covered your mouth with his, stealing your breath and your words as his own. Your bodies tensed and trembled as he spilled inside you, his lips kissing yours tenderly as you both came down from your high.

“Your punishment isn’t over, little rabbit.” His whisper was a seductive purr as he rested his head on your chest. “You are mine tonight.”

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu

[cq-studios]

This one screenshot has so much I want to talk about in it so I’m gonna babble about it below the cut

(TLDR: CQ geeks out about translating the Scala Language)

Okay, so first off I’d like to say how much I love the newspaper vibe they are going for and achieving with menus. It has me gnawing on the walls. There’s just Scala Script (the Scala language, for clarity’s sake) everywhere and my code breaking brain is eating it up.

Speaking of which here’s what I’ve been able to translate so far (out of what I’ve been able to make out… the writing is pretty scuffed up in places and it’s not the highest quality image lol)

So the first thing I’d like to focus on are the banners. Each one has something written in Scalian underneath. Those things in order of left to right are “Daily”, “Item”, and “Avatar”, which uh, makes sense lol.

I think it’s a little strange that “Item” is the only one that isn’t exactly translated… like did they just forget the “S”?

On a more interesting note though, this one for one translation here means we now have an official Scalian character for “V”. Unfortunately the character used is pretty scrapped away, so I can’t be 100% sure, but I do think I know which character is used.

(Click/tap on the images below… for whatever reason they were just not formatting correctly)

I also considered it being the one below, but because of the location of the flecks I lean more towards the first one.

I also might have translated another new Scalian character but I’m not sure…

See, on the bar at the top of the screen it says “[unknown character]ho[same unknown character]colates”. I spent at least an hour trying to find out all the possible English words what it could be. I just filled in the blanks tried anagrams, the whole shebang (except for trying that with the other languages that are most likely to be used. Those being Japanese, for obvious reasons, and Latin, which has been used in Scala Script before on the manhole covers in KH3 Scala) and came out with one possible word: Chocolate.

And I must be wrong because that makes no sense, but in case I’m right, it’s here.

I tried to cross reference with KH3 signs to no avail so I’m a bit stumped…

Maybe the little blurb on the other side makes it make sense but it’s too blurry for me to read.

Next up I’ll talk about the “Weather”.

The top text is decently clear so I was able to work that out pretty quickly (pros of being fluent in this fictional language I guess lol) and thanks to that clear text I was actually able to make out a bit more of what was below it than I would’ve otherwise. See, the smaller letters are pretty blurry but I’m able to vaguely make them out. The “L” and “W” were what I caught first and I filled in the blank between pretty fast with some pretty simple connections. Once I’d seen that I realized that there was probably a high there too, and there do seem to be “H”s on either side of the word above it… and a “G”… and an “I” (I think, I was trying to double check but my iPad has significantly worse image quality than my computer).

As for the temperature, I tried my best but the numbers are probably inaccurate. They are very blurry.

Last but not least, here are a few of my smaller notes.

I’m a big fan of the Moogle stamp, but I could not tell you what the first word on that thing is. The second is “news”, clear as day but the first word doesn’t have any characters I recognize other than the “S”. I tried coming up with possibilities through context but I’m drawing a blank.

I also love the little Potion and Elixir advertisement in the bottom corner. Like, I’m so charmed by the art for it. That being said though, I also have no clue what the text next to this one says. I’m sure it’s an onomatopoeia of some sort but once again my brain wasn’t working with me.

If you guys have any ideas please let me know. I always love to have discussions and help.

(Also I know I left a whole text box out… I honestly have nothing to say about that. Not enough characters I recognize to decipher anything at this point)

[therealsmuttyone]

Lilia part one:

I looked at everyone. 600 men under my command. 600 men waiting for my instructions. 600 families waiting. “Alright everyone listen closely. This is our one shot to kill them all and go home. We have too much waiting for us. Our kids, wives. Family. Friends! They’ve been waiting for you for years. Will you let them wait for nothing? What are you fighting for? Who are you fighting for?” With those words, i could see their will to fight grow stronger. It was like a dream they held on to. Home. “Our Queen and Princess trusted us to carry the name of Briar valley with us on this journey! Are you going to make them regret it? Our future heir, whatever it may be, a princess or a prince, needs us!” I looked at Baul, my second in command with a look of determination. “Baul you lead the charge.”i tapped on his shoulder and looked down at him. “Show them why you’re my second in command” His eyes matched my determination. I knew he had his daughter waiting for him. He had a reason to fight. “Isaiah, you flank the guards, twins,” I shot a pointed look at the set of identical twins who seemed to not only share a face, but their movements scared even me. They were synchronized. Way too synchronized.”you two will shoot any ambush attacks and Ivy, you stay back!”

I thought about what i wanted. Who i wanted to fight for. I could see her perfectly in my mind i could hear her voice. To say it sounded like bells was cliché but it certainly sounded gentle. Like a mother’s song, carried by the wind. But it was as sharp as a thousand thorns. Like roses. Beautiful but deadly. Koneko. She too was a fae. I wanted her to hug me and tell me everything was going to be fine. i took one deep breath and closed my eyes. Okay Lilia, i thought to myself, this is your chance to show humans-no to remind them that fae are not to be tested. Prove Meleanor right. She made you the general. Their lives are in your hands now. Make Revan proud. Prove the senate wrong. You’ve only got one chance. I opened my eyes.

“CHARGE!!!!!!” The battle was long and bloody. The screams of human man and child alike fell on the deaf ears of my men, as they slaughtered them. They were stealing for us. Killing us without reason and without cause. i charged the castle as the twins (whose names i could never remember) laughed and killed them all. I was on the second floor of the castle when it happened. I was stabbed. “AAGH!” Cried out and held my hand to my wound but…there was no blood…there was no wound…how? I saw it… “who was that? What was that?” The disembodied voice that seemed to magically behind me made me want to kill myself. “A vision. One doesn’t need common sense to know that. But that’s what we get for having a filthy bat as a general” they spat out the insult, like it was poison. “A filthy bat” “oh screw off.” I said standing up. I didn’t care for the senate. Not one bit. They laughed. “Lilia, that is the one person you cannot let live. If anyone else survives we can find and dispose of them but this one….” A path of green seemed to glow in front of me. I followed it.

“you can’t do it Lilia. We know you can’t.” I scoffed and turned right. A fancy castle. I wasn’t too amazed by it though. I had people to kill and a lover to return to. “I can. Do you forget who i am?” “We don’t forget Lilia…we just know your heart…and you don’t have the heart to kill this one.” the path stopped in front of a door. A basic wooden door. One that was quite smaller than the rest. Hell one could mistake it for a servants door. I took a deep breath and drew my sword. “Shut up. I can.” I shoved that door open and almost laughed…it was a baby…but a wee baby sleeping peacefully in the crib that lay directly in the center of a room. The room was bare but it was full of signs that the parents loved the baby…toys and gold..and cards and pictures and crude drawings. My face scrunched up at the sight of it all. Fae children were much more mature..probably because we didn’t do all of this shit. “This is who i have a kill? A baby?” The Senate seemed pissed at my cocky question. “Don’t be so prideful. That baby, should you let him live, will kill and destroy everything you have ever known and loved.” I looked at the crib again. “This thing? It looks like a monkey..” the senate wasn’t appreciating my humor. “He will kill the heir.” I looked at the crib. “I…” it was a baby…”it’s just a baby…and I’m just a man…trying to get home. Please. Give me some other options! I can hide the baby!” They shot that idea down “He’ll find you.” “I can raise him and hid it from him!” They shot that idea down, “He’ll find out. You know what you have to do. “

Could i do it? I stood over the crib and looked at the baby with golden hair and an air of innocence you’ll never see on a child fae. I..I’m just a man. I raised my sword over the sleeping baby. “Forgive me…”

Authors note: I’m sorry this took longer than i expected to actually write this…..damn…the word count….just count it..i’m stupid. It’ s over 1,000…anyways, part one has been done, time for part two! What do you guys think will happen next? Let’s leave theories in the comments. Sorry for the grammar mistakes, English isn’t my first language. Or my second. Or my third. Working on part two now. WHOOOOOO!!!

@koneko-dreams

[scaryscarecrows]

Long is the Road Out of Hell

Bruce only spots the man because of a flickering sign behind him, but the how doesn’t matter here. What matters is that after four days of chasing ghost stories and rumors, he’s found something that could lead him to Jason. That’s the man that shot Deathstroke. He knows something, and Bruce wants to find out what.

Catching him is, of course, another matter. They stare at each other across rooftops for a few seconds before the man (short, gas mask, red goggles, armed) turns, takes a running start, and leaps off the roof.

Bruce gives chase.

He moves like the League, like Bruce, and while the Militia has had people that move similarly, none of them were quite like this. Unfortunately, Bruce has chased down more than his fair share of, in the words of the GCPD, ‘crazy-ass ninjas’, and he’s not letting this one go.

The chase takes them to a higher rooftop in Ryker Heights and finally Bruce gains enough of an advantage (a place to use the grapnel boost), launches himself skyward and dives back, crashing into the smaller man and driving him through a crumbling skylight. They hit the ground in a shower of glass, but it’s not over yet: the man’s boots have knives at the toes and he’s kicking up and out, squirming free and drawing his firearm.

Then things get worse.

From behind them there’s the WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRR of a minigun warming up and Bruce has seconds to drop a smoke pellet and dive aside before bullets spit out from the darkness and a deep voice laughs and mocks, “Run, Bat, run!”

The man he was chasing is breathing heavily. The minigunner stalks forward. He’s a big man. There’s been a few like him, too, but he’s bigger still. Unlike the other one, he’s not masked, which means the facial recognition in the cowl can find him.

Trent Ages. Mercenary. Interrogations expert. Extremely dangerous.

You don’t say, Bruce thinks, grappling into the rafters. Lovely. One of them was manageable. Two is…still manageable, but it makes this harder. Minigunner’s the more dangerous one, he decides; that gun will cut him to pieces, and the disruptor will only work a little. There’s a fuse box over there, though. If Bruce can get him over there, he can use that against him–

There’s the crackling of speakers and an unfamiliar voice rings through the office.

“You get one chance to get the hell out.” Man’s voice. Bored. “You gonna take it?”

There. A small, red dot: camera.

He destroys it with a Batarang and the man sighs.

“He’s in the rafters. Fucker broke one of my cameras.”

The minigunner aims upwards.

“I’ll avenge it.”

WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Ah. New plan, then: get away from the cameras.

He swings to a new vantage point, then another, and then one just above the smaller man he’d chased here. Readies the REC gun. Sends the minigunner careening across the room while he drops down, grabs his friend, and grapples back to the roof.

“Where is the Arkham Knight?”

Whatever response he was expecting, laughter wasn’t it. He shakes him before slamming him against a low wall and forcing him back so his head’s hanging over it.

“I’m asking nicely.”

The man only laughs harder and goes slack. He’s not nervous, according to the cowl. He genuinely does not care.

“You shot Deathstroke.” That, at least, shuts him up. “Is the Knight dead?”

There’s a long silence before the man nods. Bruce’s heart falls out of his chest as his vision narrows.

No no no no not again not again–

THWACK.

Bruce is out before he hits the ground.

* * *

“--laughing?”

“--ne’s toxin neutralized it, but I want to be sure. I’m not risking a second Joker running around Gotham.”

“Sure we don’t need to check the brain? Like rabies?”

“We’ll see.” There’s the sound of someone tapping on glass. “I know you’re awake in there.”

That’s Jason’s voice, and Bruce feels cold. Crane’s toxin wasn’t enough. It was enough to hold this at bay, then, nothing more.

“You’re sure he’s awake, boss?” A new voice. Tired, smoker’s rasp. Not-Jason barks a laugh.

“Oh, yes.” More tapping. “The least you could do is look at me.”

The cowl is still on. He’s on the floor, but the cowl is still on. Where is he?

He can hear water outside, smell that odd clean scent of overly-filtered air, and taste the staleness of having been drugged. None of these things are useful to know.

“Did you two fail vocabulary tests as kids?” a new voice demands. “Stay down, I said. Those injuries are pretty nasty, I said. What about either of those things did you not understand?”

“I–”

“Have roughly the intelligence of a microwave, I know, now sit. Down.”

There’s two sets of heavy, shuffling steps followed by squeak-squeak and flop-thud. Bruce risks cracking his eyes open, just a tad, to try and see the goings-on.

Jason–Not-Jason?--is in a wheelchair. He knee’s in a brace and he’s wearing soft, loose clothing that doesn’t hide the shape of bandages around his torso. His companion, a blond man Bruce has seen a few times throughout Halloween, is in a desk chair, arm in a sling. Both of them are looking away from a third man that Bruce doesn’t recognize, a tall, dark-haired one looming over them.

“You fuck up that knee or rip any of those stitches and I’ll gut you,” he’s snarling. “And you! You’ve gotten maybe half the sleep you should and if I catch you trying to ‘start PT early’, I’ll cut the damn thing off, because clearly you’ve lost that privilege. Clear?”

“Aww, c’mon–”

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse–”

“Clear?”

They fall silent and finally mutter, “Clear.”

“Thank you,” the doctor says serenely. “Tests are still going, is why I came looking for you. Computer says another six hours, easy.”

“Mm.” Not-Jason drops his head back to look at the ceiling. “No early signs of anything?”

“Not yet. So go back to bed, someone will tell you if things get interesting.”

Not-Jason clearly pretends he didn’t hear that in favor of looking back at Bruce.

“How long were you hiding it?”

Bruce is silent. It’s the only way to come out of the hallucinations eventually, is to not play into them. But this isn’t the usual. In the past, when it’s been Jason, he’s been either hurt and begging for help, or furious. This one is…clinical.

No, no, he’s angry: when Bruce doesn’t answer, he shoves himself out of the wheelchair, dodges what Bruce guesses is the doctor, and stalks over to lean against the glass.

“I know you’re awake, asshole. Answer me: how long were you hiding it?”

Joker’s not here yet. All this is oddly linear, actually. Very immersive. It would be fascinating if it weren’t so dangerous. He takes a quick peek at his hands. Still Batman’s gauntlets, not Joker’s gloves. Good.

He looks back up at Not-Jason and just…looks. Not-Jason looks tired, so very tired, and what would have been injuries from Deathstroke are prominent, but apart from that, he looks…better than he did in Joker’s tape. His breathing’s steadier and he doesn’t have his eyes glazed over from pain and drugs and fear.

He’s still angry, though: when Bruce doesn’t answer, he slams his hand against the glass with a resounding wham!

“Want me to call Trent?” the blond asks. Not-Jason turns away with a sneer and doesn’t shake the doctor off when the man steps over to grab his arm.

“No. I don’t want anyone going in there until those tests come back.”

“That include you?”

Not-Jason sinks back into the wheelchair.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s go, assholes, visiting hours are over–stay down, you’re getting a ride.”

“I want a ride,” the blond gripes.

“Too bad. You don’t both fit in this thing.”

Bruce watches them leave and hopes the hallucination will be over now.

* * *

He’s pulled out of his meditation by the feeling of eyes.

His first thought is that it’s the camera that he can just hear in the corner of his cell, whining a little as it moves back and forth, but when he cracks an eye open, just to a slit, he sees the man he was chasing standing motionless on the other side of the glass.

His white mask is off now, the stark red goggles as well, and the cowl hiccups, tries to identify him, and brings up static. They’re using a scrambler, then. Wise.

The man just stares at him, unblinking, and all Bruce can really think, in this moment, is that you’re not as intimidating as you think you are. This is followed immediately after by, two can play this game.

To the casual observer, the stiff posture hides everything. To Bruce, it conveys military background, like the others, but it also conveys injuries that would be consistent with a fall or an altercation; he’s standing a little too straight, likely to keep his ribs in alignment. His breathing is shallow, which bolsters that theory. One shoulder is held a hair higher than the other–subconscious tenseness, probably an older injury, but one he can exploit. Likely exacerbated by the recoil of a gun; that was, Bruce will allow, a good shot earlier. Not one made by a lucky amateur.

The burn scars–not many, but they’re unmistakable–around his mouth are far more interesting. They’re old, received decent enough treatment, and look largely accidental, like someone shoved something hot in his mouth and dinged the skin on the way in. Torture of some kind, or emergency cauterization. Bruce is inclined to think torture; this man moves like the League, and as he can attest, the League is harsh.

Whatever the man is doing here, whatever he’s looking for, he must find it; his posture relaxes all of a sudden and he gives Bruce a look that can only be summed up as, I’m not impressed.

Bruce exhales sharply through his nose, closes his eyes, and thinks, that makes two of us.

When he opens his eyes again, the man is gone. He looks at the camera, figures they’re going to be watching no matter what he does, and gets to his feet.

The cell is small, the same size as the quarantine cells in the movie studios. Unlike those, it’s empty: no cot, no sensors that he can see, no nothing except a Gothco* bottle of water and the security camera. The bottle is sealed, but that doesn’t mean it’s not drugged, and he doesn’t touch it.

Depending on how lucid he was (is?), they seem to be concerned about the Joker blood. On this, their goals align; he meant what he said to Tim. How they know is another matter entirely, but there’s been…periods…that he can’t remember. Not many (not that he knows about), but there’s snatches of time that he cannot account for. Who knows what he did during those blackouts.

Then again, he could have imagined that and they’re actually just carrying out the Knight’s final orders, whatever those might have been. Or they blame him for what happened.

He shuts down that train of thought. Thinking about Jason is only going to hurt and he can’t afford the distraction right now. He needs to get out of here. Gotham is not safe while these people are still rattling around in her, and they need to be dealt with before he can take care of himself.

They’ve disarmed him, but Bruce has always enjoyed his toys, not relied on them. He can still fight his way out of here, given half a chance. The one he’ll really have to be wary of is the minigunner he saw earlier tonight, but–despite what Alfred says–he always uses some measure of caution when dealing with men like that. He hasn’t been doing this for ten years without picking up a trick or two, after all.

What he needs, he decides, is to convince these dopes to open the door. Preferably the blond he (probably) saw earlier–that was a clearly recent injury, one he can rely on to incapacitate him–, but any of them will probably suit.

He punches the camera. It makes a satisfying bzzt and the red light fades and dies.

There. That will get somebody’s attention.

He settles back down to wait. Unfortunately, while he gets a response in about thirty seconds, it’s not one he wants.

“What do you have against technology, man?” the disembodied voice whines. So there’s a speaker in here as well. Interesting. “Those things aren’t free, you know.”

The voice is slightly echo-y in the small space. Bruce needs to keep him talking to locate the source.

“Who’s in charge now?” he grinds out, hoping it’s a two-way speaker. It is: the voice scoffs.

“Fuck off, Bat.”

“I’ll find out with or without you.”

The voice doesn’t answer this time. Hm. Time for something else.

He launches himself at the glass. It holds–of course it holds–but he hits it with a resounding BANG! that makes it shudder.

“Hey!” The voice snaps. “Knock that shit off!”

Aha. It’s structural, in the back wall. Could be a weak spot.

He starts tapping. The wall sounds solid throughout, but maybe…is that…

“What d’you think you’re doing.”

Bruce turns. It’s not the blond, unfortunately; it’s an older man, developed worker’s hands, broad shoulders, bit of an odd posture for (presumably) military. Grease splatters on his pants say mechanic. He’s armed, like the others, with a large rifle that looks a lot like J–like the Knight’s, but he seems fairly confident that Bruce can’t get out.

“Leaving,” Bruce says shortly. The mechanic laughs, but it’s not a friendly one.

“Bullshit.” He rests his hand on his hip (too casual, stabilizing gesture, he’s had an injury to that leg and it’s weaker than the other) and fixes Bruce with a glare that reminds him, randomly, of Alfred. “You’re not fucking leaving until those tests are done.”

“What tests.”

“Clown tests.” So that probably wasn’t a hallucination. Good. “May as well siddown and wait.”

He’s more hostile than either the blond or the League-trained. Bruce can use this.

He turns his back (that glass will be bulletproof, it’s fine) and resumes tapping on the wall. There’s a frustrated sigh and the man says, “If you cause too much damage, I have orders to push this button and blow you up to keep you contained. And believe me, I won’t hesitate.”

“Who gave you those orders.” Bruce does not turn around. “Who’s in charge now?”

There’s a beat of stunned silence before the man says, voice incredulous, “Jesus, what kind of shitty father are you?”

What?

He turns at that, fixes the man with his best Threatening Glare, and growls, “Who the hell do you think you are.”

If he was hoping for intimidation, he doesn’t get it. The man just scoffs, looks him up and down, and says, “More responsible than you. I wouldn’t send any kid out the way you do, and you’re trying for some fucked-up hat trick.”

“You don’t know the first thing–”

“I know you keep your kid safe!” the man roars, hand clenching around a–yes, that appears to be a detonator. “I know you fucking protect them, not armor ‘em up and send ‘em out against these freaks! I know you don’t leave them with sadistic clowns! Jesus Christ, you wanna go out like this, that’s your business, but you don’t drag your children into that!”

“I never dragged any of them–”

“Then how the hell’d your middle one get that brand on his face?” He slams his free hand against the glass. “The fuck is the matter with you?”

“S’goin’ on?”

Oh, no.

Bruce takes a slow, deep breath and tries to concentrate on his rule of fives. He’s up to three things he can touch when Not-Jason makes his way over, eyes confused.

“He was trying to find a way through the back wall, sir,” the other man says shortly. “You should be sleeping. Mark’ll have your head if he sees you up again.”

“M’all right,” comes the quick protest. “Just don’t tell him.”

And if that doesn’t sound like Jay. Bruce remembers him giving his best winning smile and wheedling, Alfred never has to know.

“What are you doing up.”

“Checking the test progress.”

“And?”

“Nothing yet. Another twenty minutes and we’ll know for sure.” Not-Jason looks at Bruce. “It’s been a long night. Go get some rest.”

“Sir–”

“It’s fine.”

The man shoots Bruce a venomous glare and hands over the detonator.

“Don’t be up too long, you know he’ll come looking.”

He leaves and Not-Jason scrubs around the button, picking at something with his nails.

“Never heard him that angry before,” he says wryly.”You really bring out the best in people, huh?”

“You’re not here.” It's a desperate habit. He can’t let Joker get a foothold, he’ll never get rid of him if he does. “You’re dead.”

“God, this again?” Not-Jason looks beseechingly at the ceiling. “Look, I know it’d be easier for you, but–”

“No.” Hallucination or not, that’s not true and never will be. “No, Jay, I’d give anything for you to–”

“Bullshit–”

“Truth.” He abandons his fives and steps up to the glass. “I grieved you every single minute. Every second. You–”

Not-Jason isn’t listening. He’s looking at his phone. A few seconds pass before he starts laughing, resentful but still entertained.

“Dylan told you the Knight was dead,” he says. “You of all people should understand the difference.” What. “I’m not coming in there to prove it to you, but sorry to disappoint, I’m still here. The proverbial cockroach, if you will.”

He can’t do this again. It’s been a roller coaster of a night (well, night and a bit) and he can’t do this anymore. But Not-Jason does look real enough…as did Joker, and Barbara.

Bruce wonders if maybe giving into the delusion isn’t so bad. He’s in a cell, after all.

“You–”

“You know, this is the second time you’ve written me off without a corpse. One might almost think you wanted to get rid of me.” Jason gives Bruce a sardonic smile. “Subconscious buyer’s remorse, maybe?”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I? When did the new kid show up, again? Six months, right? When you deemed him good enough to go out? When it was me, you made me wait five months before stopping one lousy mugging, so…” He shrugs. “Either you rushed him or picked him up immediately. Either way, you’re an asshole.”

“He knew who we were.”

“Option two, okay. That doesn’t hurt my feelings at all.” He leans against the glass. “Least you could do is admit it.”

“Admit what?” Bruce demands. “That I was desperate for any help I could get to find you? That I stayed out until well after sunrise chasing leads, then came home to comb through the footage for anything I missed?”

“For all the good it did.”

“And I’m sorry. If I could take your place, I would.”

Jason just looks at him, expression unreadable.

“Would you,” he says softly. “I doubt that very much.”

“Jason–”

“When those tests come back, we’re gonna do one of two things. Either I let you go and you stay the hell away from me. You’ve done enough.” Well. “Or I push this button.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Bruce says stiffly. “Gotham can’t take another Joker.”

“Gotham shouldn’t have had to take the first one,” Jason spits. “You let that go for too long. You let this go for too long.”

“When did you know.”

“Airship. You were fucking laughing, you know that? That godawful high-pitched cackle.”

Bruce did not know that.

“I–”

“Sounded just like him.” He taps his fingers against the back of the detonator. Nervous. Jason’s never been one to be too still. He can be, he just…often isn’t, not when he’s upset. “Real blast from the past, let me tell you.”

There’s nothing Bruce can say to that. ‘At least I didn’t kill them’ isn’t really the best reply here. Neither is ‘they shouldn’t have been there’. Even though both are technically true.

“You owe me an answer,” Jason continues, eyes boring into Bruce’s. “How long were you hiding it.”

“I was managing it for approximately ten months.”

“Ten–” Jason’s fingers clench around the detonator. “Of course you did.”

Before this can go any further, the blond from before comes back, eyes flitting to Bruce with undisguised dislike.

“Tests are back,” he says. “According to the doc, anyway.”

“And?”

“He doesn’t tell me shit.”

Jason takes a slow, deep breath and turns away.

“Let’s go see, then.”

THE END

*I will forever cling to ‘no big companies will set foot in Gotham, so they have their own variants’: Goth-mart, Goth-greens, Gothco…they’re on brand, y’all.

[staceymcgillicuddy]

Day 20: Gift Wrapping

@hellcheerxmas

December 1996 Indianapolis, Indiana

There are certain undeniable perks to being a backing musician for a moderately successful rock band. Seeing the world from the back of a tour bus? Check. Doing what he loves every night while having the freedom to plug away at his own music? Double check. Getting a more-than-decent paycheck every month, plus bonuses? Triple check. Perks all the way down.

Of course, the travel doesn’t leave much time for home, family, or shopping for Christmas presents, which is how Eddie ends up at Macy’s in Indianapolis on December 24, along with every other poor schlub who put off shopping until the last minute. 

Money helps, though. He’s got a definite idea of what he wants to buy his uncle, and while it’s not a Rolex, it’s a nice fucking watch. Nice enough that it’s not sold out like the cheaper models. The salesman is more than happy to box it up and run his charge card while looking at Eddie in abject confusion, like he can’t quite figure out how this punkass in a denim jacket and ripped jeans can afford to spend five hundred bucks on a timepiece. 

Let him wonder. 

“Any chance you can gift wrap it?” Eddie asks. His fingers are nimble on frets and strings, less so with paper and tape. Yet another perk of a disposable income—he doesn’t have to worry about shit like that anymore. 

“Yes, sir. Our wrapping station is just behind the escalators. You can’t miss it.” 

The man is right—there’s no missing the gold-and-silver station, which looks suspiciously like a customer service desk covered in foil. There’s no one manning it, but there’s a bell and a sign requesting he ring it for service, so he does.

There’s rapid movement from behind the partition, and a slim, blonde woman in a black dress emerges. 

“Hi, sorry,” she says, and Eddie knows her instantly.

“Chrissy?” 

She blinks, and he’s prepared to be mortified. Ready to have her look him up and down without that same spark of recognition firing in her brain. But then, her eyes soften, and she laughs. “Eddie Munson?” 

He’s back in high school again. Fighting the urge to fantasize about what’s under her cheer skirt when she passes him in the cafeteria. Watching the way she taps her pencil against her paper during a test. Glaring daggers at her dumb boyfriend across the parking lot. “Uh, hi. Wow. Long time no see.” 

Long time no see? Jesus fucking Christ, man, you’ve slept with models. 

“Gosh, I know. How are you? I, um, I heard you moved to Los Angeles?” 

That she knows anything about what happened to him post-graduation is shocking, and he fumbles out, “I guess. I mean, I did. Just home visiting my uncle. You know. Christmas.” 

So, yeah. Any progress toward being a chill adult can be wiped out by two seconds of mere proximity to his high school crush. Good to know. 

“Sure. Do you want me to wrap that?” 

“Uh. Yes. Thank you.” He pushes the box forward and watches as her hands fly across various accouterments, tearing paper and tape with practiced ease. There are no rings on any of her fingers. “How are… how’s it going?” 

“Oh, you know. Fine.” She cuts the paper in half and then in half again to accommodate the smaller box. 

“Cool. Yeah, cool. Doing anything fun for Christmas?” Never let it be said that Edward Munson is not a cunning linguist, capable of intelligent, suave conversation with all the chicks. 

“Not really. My roommate and I are going to try and make a beef wellington.” 

“That sounds fancy.” 

“Oh, totally. You want a ribbon on this?” 

“Please,” he says because he doesn’t care, but it’ll buy him a few more seconds of awkward small talk. “I’m in a band.” 

Chrissy’s mouth curls into a smile like he’s not awkwardly inserted a Very Cool Fact about himself into the conversation. “Corroded Coffin. I remember.” 

“No. Well, yes. In school. But now I'm with Gravity Well. I do backing guitar. I’m not like in the band…” The verbal diarrhea was a problem, it really was. Someone ought to invent Imodium for the verbose asshole. 

“I have their new album,” she says, putting him out of his misery as she ties the ribbon in place and slides the neatly wrapped box across the counter. “That’s cool, Eddie.” 

Having thoroughly humiliated himself at warp speed, he figures it’s about time to slink out with his tail between his legs. “Um, what do I owe you?”

“It’s complimentary.” She points to a sign that says as much. “Though tips are appreciated.” 

“Oh, sure…” he fumbles for his wallet. 

“Or, you know. You could just take me out for a drink.” 

[who-is-shades]

raz dnd 22

spooky themed dnd for late halloween joy!

spingledorf goes up to senna and says he fucking dug up methods to soothe her blood. '...soothe how?' oh no. he taps his staff on the ground and makes a magic circle. senna gives teya a glance and walks into the circle. no one else thinks its a good idea oh no. wheatley says he shouldnt do this while super charged, but it doesnt require his magic, just hers.

senna gets into a meditative position. wheatley steps closer but says nothing. teya is frantically taking notes (kay is eating pizza lol) senna focuses on the magic power flowing within her. the circle is glowing more. she can feel the draconic power surge. shes really hot rn! she imagines this power is a mighty dragon she must tame and equalize with. dont retaliate too hard itll fight back equally hard.

parsley fucking walks away the fucker. the dragon charges but senna wakes up before it hits. she has to meditatite like this more often. spingledorf gives her a rug of the magic circle to use. he suddenly clutches his chest oh no! he coughs up blood oh no! mortals shouldnt NOT have that shit. he expels the rest of the energy and it has some blood on it. its also a bit smaller. wheatley pokes the ball lol. senna messages parsley that he coughed up the god ball. she also uses cure wounds on dorf. senna says if you make the energy pill sized maybe that will work better. wheatley wants the orb dorf says no lol.

he puts a little barrier around the orb and lets wheatley observe it. SP calls it a tiny star. wheatley uses a magnifying glass! hes gonna share his observations with teya. android calls us all morons lol. hes not exactly wrong. senna still goes with splitting the orb into small pieces for efficiency and safety. dorf is gigabraining about making a storage device for a body. dorf tells wheatley what the orb. wheatley wonders if it can be used to make other things and wants a small amount if dorf can ever split it. wheatley really wants to use it and study it.

dorf offers to tell us info while he studies this. dorf doesnt want us risking our lives on his behalf. he needs to stay safe too. dorf tells wheatley he isnt expendable and he should see his own value. he goes to look for parsley. 'may the wind be at your back spingledorf.' dorf fights to come up with a comeback xD senna uses presti on him to clean him up a bit. he just flies away lol.

parsley sees a big old house on the side of the path in a clearing. sus. he hears someone tapping on a window? a lights on. banging on a door. a sign asking for help. he goes to listen to the window on the second floor. he hears a bunch of footsteps and struggling and dragging and stuff. he smashes the window open. the house goes still. he fucking leaves! the lights all go on and the house is alive.

MONSTER HOUSE! carpet tongue grabs parsley and tries to drag him in! its a giant fucking mimic! failed, he gets pulled in through the door. its gonna eat his dumbass.

wheatley also finds the house. it looks normal. he can hear parsley screaming lol. parsley just flies above its mouth since the house is stupid. parsley yells out to wheatley the house is evil. the house goes to normal. parsley comments the wallpaper is nice lol. front door is locked. wheatley lets us know while parsley looks for a way out.

teya "are you fucking kidding me?" evil how? parsley finds a bunch of mannequins. he stabs one lol then goes upstairs. parsley tells wheatley it tried to eat him. teya tells us and senna comments she didnt know mimics could get that big.

parsley sees lots of doors. he goes to open a door. its stuck. its also a mimic. parsley is so fucking mad. wheatley tells us lol. android says of course parsley would get eaten by a giant mimic. parsley gets bit cool. we uh havent long rested yet. so uh. yeah.

wheatley is trying to break down the door as we arrive. teya firebolts the door. the home is mad again lol. wheatley and teya are stuck to the porch the idiots. the doors stop chewing parsley and spit him out and hide. rug grabs teya! senna firebolts it and it screams and lets go. the floor starts moving teya closer inside, cheater. senna tells parsley the house is eating teya. a big eye looks at parsley on the stairs and it turns into a slope. he starts flying lol. the tongue smacks parsley! senna keeps firebolting the house.

parsley flies out and tries to pull teya off while teya fireballs into the house. it lets teya go as it screams and coughs in pain. teya gets the fuck out of there. android is just annoyed lol. senna keeps launching attacks on the house. IT STANDS TF UP. wheatley shoots it in the leg! we back up after SP and teya attack lol. stupid fuckin house. wheatley tries to get behind it to shoot it in the knee, barely avoiding the tongue. senna firebolts the tongue again cause fuck you. wheatley failed.

its still chasing us. it stomps senna the bitch. teya firebolts again. some of the house melts a bit ew. wheatley shocks it. and now his hands are stuck great. hes gonna keep shocking it lol. a giant acid hurls at teya! half damage. wheatley is gonna get bit wtf. parsley tries to fly in and pull wheatley off. bad fail. he moved out of the way. wheatley zaps again. it tries to bite him! teya is using her weird wand! it passed the con save fuck. wheatley gets chomped. he shocks it again.

it spits acid at senna! half damage. fuck you house. firebolt fucker. android finally joins in and shoots it. its on fire nice. wheatley keeps on shocking! the tongue tries to grab parsley again. senna crits the tongue again get tf out of here. parsley tries to free wheatley again. fail. it starts piling acid in front of wheatley fuck. fuck this house fuck you raz. he shocks it on reflex.

parsley fails again goddamn. teya firebolts the leg again. zen goes to try and save wheatley. yay he freed him! burnt handprint nice. wheatley takes out his gun. teya dodges getting stomped. then gets his on the second. senna and android are doing nice damage and the fucker buckles to its knees. teya also shoots it! parsley starts stabbing it in the roof lol. wheatley shoots!

it collapses fucking finally! the other mimics fucking flee. wheatley kicks it and parsley is just laughing. wheatley gets sent to eeby deeby goddamn. were just confused about the house lol. teya calls parsley a dumbass lol. senna asks why he went, its cause he thought someone was in danger. zen jars wheatley lol. senna is very against camping in the mimics corpse lol. parsley says too bad and goes in ew. teya also agrees. sigh. senna will meditiate after doing her dragon training. parsley makes a hole for SP to see stars lol. theres a tiny jewerly box outside? teya uses detect magic. parsley opens it lol. tiny mimic. he slams it closed and yeets it into a wall. it screams and runs away. parsley says its kinda cute. he manages to catch it! pet baby mimic!

he names it rouge lol. he tries to feed it, but its scared. he apologizes for hitting it into the wall. it finally eats.

sennas once more face to face with the dragon. she tries to mentally get the ground to raise her. the dragon keeps its distance and swirls around her. she follows its flight path. she dodges a fireball and keeps moving toward the dragon. it dives! she dives right back at it! headon! shes woken up again dammit. her scales have shrunk a little. she examines them wondering whats happening.

she puts the rug away. zen and android are just sitting at the fire. she slowly approaches the fire and says she has something to say. "I...really didnt like it. when your voices were disappearing." shes pacing really hard rn lol. "I would say im sorry but that feels condescending." why is senna so hard to write lol. "I um ill do my best to um prevent that from happening again. And i want to say that i...i would be sad if you disappeared. I know that doesnt mean much but...please try not to." she bows and quickly whips around and heads into the house, red faced. she curls up by teya.

teya wakes up but pretends to still be asleep when she sees senna there. she doesnt notice anything xD parsley wakes up and grumbles its too early. he looks for rouge. he smirks and teya and tells them to wake up. android aims his gun at rouge lol. parsley says hes keeping it its his daughter now.

senna and teya get up and senna shows what happaned to her scales. "its not like spingledorf gave me instructions." he fucking messages her lol. the circle should help and soothe her mood swings. nice. she just blinks and tells teya. "maybe its correlated?" senna shrugs and braids teya's hair. SP calls rouge a baby lol.

teya happily tells teya parsley is keeping a mimic. senna is fucking exasperated. "did he hit his head?" senna follows teya to get some soup! rouge shivers whenever parsley picks it up its traumatized good job. senna is just so flummoxed at this tiny mimic. daddy parsley! were trying to give him parenting advice!

we hear teya's message! sunnie says something wrong with smierc. senna says maybe its cirmes? senna and parsley both comment that smierc and cirmes have the same letters. senna offers to write some letters to doctors and see if someone will go visit. teya is quite worried. senna reminds her about the apothecary guy. teya says he might need some rest.

senna goes to exercise, teya writes, and parsley sunbathes. the calm. teya goes to bother parsley. sennas exercise slowly turns from normal exercise into a waltz lol. (dumbass fey siblings are unsupervised)

zen calls out to senna saying they wouldnt have disappeared like wheatley. she skids to a halt. zen says as long as their souls remain they would still be alive. so she wont worry so much. "of course im going to worry." android snarks she should look out for herself first. senna says everyone else needs her help first, she takes care of herself just fine. zen warns her not to put everyones needs before her own. "I guess thats the thing, i dont have any needs. Sorry to disappoint you." "I think its you think your needs are less important. So you ignore them." "I simply prioritize. Thats all."

"I feel as if your friends would disagree with your priorities." they still appreciate the concern and they will be fine. senna faces them with a tear running down her face. "My friends are dead because of my priorities, that will not happen again." she turns and starts leaving. "I thought that was the case." Senna freezes for a moment, then hurries away faster.

MEANWHILE parsley and teya had snuck behind the house. they didnt hear anything thank god. we see smoke behind the house? zen sighs and goes to check. teya is currently hurling firebolts at the house. parsley is using a torch on it. why.... teya fucking scattered xD parsley keeps torching the mimic. zen tells him the fire could spread to the forest. 'fuck the forest!' thank you teya. parsley goes inside and continues to set fires. dammit parsley. teya comments she wants to set 1 tree on fire. parsley says no stupid. zen sighs and heads back.

teya wants to make fun of sunnies book with parsley lol. parsley says to subject everyone else too it too. they head back to camp and forcibly read the book outloud to the bots lol. parsley is dying of laughter. 'it lived in the feywilds.' teya starts breaking down the chapter lol. android grumbles them to read quietly. nope its specifically to annoy them! he grabs it and tosses it into the fire. "hey! i wanted to do that. i memorized the first passage!" parsley mumbles hes gonna get senna and walks away. weird.

senna is just. standing in a field. her back is to him. he calls out to her. she doesnt respond. he calls again. no response. and again. he pokes her. she slowy turns around and looks....empty inside. he awkwardly asks if shes ok. she says yes and just heads back. he awkwardly follows. teya definitely notices somethings wrong. she tries to hold her hand. shes not stopped, but not reciprocated either. SP plants itself right on her foot lol.

zen walks over and asks if shes ok. no response. he grabs her shoulder and tells her this isnt the right way to do these things. no response. rouge is awkwardly standing there with rouge. he speaks up and asks if she needs space. no response. (senna wtf is wrong with you) parsley starts shaking her like a ragdoll. "senna wake tf up!" teya asks who broke her. android sighs and smacks senna in the back of the head. theres a pause and she curls over "fuck why did you hit me?!" she looks normal now lol just confused how she got back here. she just doesnt remember and asks to get moving. android asks if its gonna happen again. "i guess well see." for a split second he sees her eyes go dead, but only for a second. teya says thats enough acting weird for 1 day. now their arguing about the burning mimic lol.

android threatens to hug them if they shove him into a fire xD sennas just enjoying them talking. no ones been shot yet! teya misses her book copy lol. senna suddenly remembers and gives parsley a bunch of random clothes she grabbed from silk and velvets. hes a bit overwhelmed lol. parsley comments if they should stop the house fire. senna starts using frost on the house. continuing onward!

senna carries SP. parsley uses magic to predict the weather. 'ok weather boy.' teya wants to play ispy nice. SP asks what ispy is. watch and learn buddy. parsley spies something with a B. teya says bitch and points at android. yep xD SP spies something yellow. "is it the sun?" "YES!" good job teya. teya spies another b! SP points at parsley and says bastard? close, it was bottom! "whats a bottom?" "ill tell you when your older." SP spies an S. "the sky?" "YES!" good job parsley. they remind android hes not playing and cant have an opinion. parsley spies a D. SP says dirt good job. SP spies T. nope not teya. its trees good job teya. teya spies C. clouds? good job parsley.

teya asks senna to come play. senna says shes never played before. shes never heard of it lol. she didnt 'play' as a child. 'could make up for lost time?' 'i might be too old for that.' 'never too old!' tori also did arson lol. their trying to make SP into an arsonist lol. parsley asks zen if he wants to play. yay! parsley spies an r. senna says a raccoon cause she sees one but nope. its robot good job zen.

zen spies an m. senna just keeps guessing. "I dont have to see it. He has to." no hints dammit. parsley flies into the air lol. not the map either lol. teya gives parsley a hint its a mushroom xD senna goes! she sees a b! she says it has to do with plants. its bark good job teya! teya also spies a b! we get the hint of 'hard'. senna got boulder good job!

senna tried to pass it to parsley but he refused so she spies an a. acorn good job zen. he takes out his lute and just plays. senna goes to play but changes her mind. parsley stares at the lute and gets quiet. zens lute glows with magic and he fuckin flies wtf. he DID get it from spingledorf. he tries to get parsley to fly up and dance lol. senna secretly messaging teya lol. parsley is a bit insulted by zen.

zen says he once visited a city in the clouds. senna opens her mouth to say something but stops. she still feels awkward. parsley asks how a city was up there. he didnt ask, fucker. lots of windmills. somehow they grew lots of plants up there, just very little land. he offers to take us when we kill zorbolt. parsleys eye is twitching because of teya.

zen asks android to come explore with him. maybe yay! zen asks teya what her plan is after zorbolt and flies right by her. she came looking for adventure so she doesnt know. he offers to take her with him. teya says after zorbolt then they can decide. now he asks senna. she goes where shes needed. to help. "make sure to take some me time." her face darkens for a second. "ive had enough me time." he sighs and goes to parsley. hes gonna just explore the material plane, wont travel with zen. 'lone wolf type?' senna comments lone wolves die alone. zen says he runs into people in his journey, eventually they go their own paths. zen comments parsley is always running from something. sennas head whips around and stares at him. 'maybe i just like my privacy.' he says he wasnt trying to dig and says it feels like that for all of us, the fucker. not teya shes an open book lol.

teya asks what he notices. perhaps best to leave parsley alone he says lol. hes used to paying attention to people since the other bots dont know social etiquette in the godspace. he teaches them. studies cultures. teya calls that people watching. zen interacts though. this was when bots still wandered outside. teya messages zen oooo. she wants to know what he notices about her. shrugging lol. he also wont say about the others lol. sometimes he fails to think before he speaks. she goes back to bothering parsley lol.

he tells teya to stfu lol. shes so nosy. android tells them to shut up. senna sets SP down and it starts wandering around. zen tells teya to let things rest for now. 'a better person might.' 'i think you can be the better person.' nope. parsley is so mad lol. 'i thought fey didnt lie?' hes ignoring her. something about the book. senna comments wheatley has his book. zen says the book must not be very good.

teya threatens to go into the feywilds. parsley says she wont last a day. oh no. challenge accepted. fuck. senna and zen also say no. too dangerous. parsley remarks teya stole zens name once lol. he didnt recognize her as a fey lol. senna tells teya maybe it was a name in the book and she fucking says it too. he grits his teeth and storms off. 'thats not a no.' theres only 1 name in the book. zen and senna ponder dorf being in the feywilds. teya says she didnt get to the feywilds. the fire happaned and tori and sunnie said no.

perhaps something is drawing her to the feywilds. maybe her mom made a deal. oh yeah she did lol. teya definitely shouldnt go. what if teya is a means to an end? zen asks why shes not too worried. teya there are worser things that can and will happen. zen says she has a bad imagination. shes too young and hasnt seen the world. she needs to be worried.

parsley is just being quiet lol. senna quietly mumbles under her breath 'a means to an end...' parsley says when he was a kid his sister was gifted a pet. it was a kid. they didnt even understand he was a kid. they didnt speak much since he didnt speak much common. he was scared and parsley didnt know why. then he grew up and died. quickly by his standards. thats why parsley hates it. then he clams back up.

zen stares at him. parsley just keeps walking. teya is also shut up. at that moment, a glowing cube comes to teya! theres an item and a note. it fucking speaks. its from spingledorf. its an item lets her directly message dorf or summon him if needed. a magical stone with 2 buttons on it. nice.

zen comments that teya wants to be dorfs apprentice. go for it teya! adventure! teya accidentally presses the summon but its an answering machine lol.

[showfallmediaarchivist]

[Loading…]

[Transcript Begins.]

[Two silhouettes are in the direct view of the camera, vaguely outlined by the light of a flickering television screen. One is smaller, and angled towards a small device, whilst the other appears to be detracting themself from their companion. The taller turns out to be speaking, seemingly at their compatriot]

?: Hey. Hey. I– listen, I… it’s–

[Voice identified: Cassius.]

[There is no sign of a reaction from the figure, only a determined stare at a screen invisible to the lens of the camera]

C: Will, I– do– how– fuck, I’m awful at this.

[Cassius reaches out to tap the other person on the shoulder.]

[The person's demeanor completely changes, grabbing Cassius' hand, and twisting it 180 degrees. It looks at Cassius, with a distantly violent stare.]

?: Don't. Touch. Me.

[Voice identified : The Archivist/William Keane]

C: Sorry– I. I don’t know how to– Jesus that hurts– how do I help?

TA: They killed him. They killed him.

[Cassius glances between the TV and The Archivist. Breathing heavily.]

[His arm is released from The Archivist's grasp, not before a familiar, mechanical crackling is registered. It can almost sound like a growl, if one was to describe it.]

C: [Whispered.] Oh, god.

[The being stares at the opposite person, seemingly keeping watch for any movement. The crackling hasn't stopped, but has came to a low hum, permanent but quiet enough as to not attract much attention]

C: I– I know they did. And I’m sorry. I want to help. Please. Just…

TA: Can't..leave.

[The Archivist's voice cracks, the humming pausing in its methodical whirr. He sounds..almost sad.]

C: What? No, I’m not leaving. I just want to know how to help you before you do something dangerous.

W: Don't..know.

[William's Voice is strained, as if it was in pain as they spoke. His hand appears to be curled tightly into a fist, the skin appearing to have something red dripping from it.]

C: I know I’m not the best at comfort, and… I can’t… bring him back. But I’ll try. It probably won’t be any good.

[The being's head tilts, seemingly listening. It's posture hasn't changed, still in the position he was in before.]

C: I think I… know how you’re feeling. A little. I uh. Told you about… my sister. Right?

W: Mhm..?

C: When I found out about my parents plans, I was angry. I was so full of rage, that I didn’t even see what I’d done to them for at least a minute after I did it. And I didn’t notice that she’d seen me do it. It was a stupid choice, and someone who I cared about ended up dead. I think someone has already gone down that path, Mari. They just murdered a random employee. A very stupid choice if you ask me. But they’re not smart anyway, so–

[The mechanical whirring has begun again, The Archivist letting go of its fist. The monster growls and darts forward, bashing straight into Cassius. It's jaws lock onto wherever they could reach, and rends that piece of flesh away from his body.]

[Cassius shouts, a mix of genuine fear and pain. He is unable to say anything.]

[The Creature almost pauses, letting out a more humane cry of its own, before the whirring proceeds louder, almost deafening. It grabs at his left leg and bashes it, before tugging at it like a weed.]

[Another shout, this time accompanied by words.]

C: WAIT–

[There is something Whispered to Cassius by the creature, just before it pulls off the majority of his limb.]

[Cassius attempts to push it away from him, but he fails. His strength rapidly leaving him by the second.]

[The Archivist stands, staring at the man on the floor, before stamping on Cassius' chest with its metal leg. There is a sickening crunch picked up by the camera.]

[The man twitches once or twice, before all movement halts.]

[After a couple of minutes, the creature's behavior changes. William drops to the floor beside the man, seemingly in shock and distress. There are some hand-movements by the individual, but they don't seem to know where to begin. It starts to cry, kneeled in the steadily pooling blood of his recent victim.]

[Transcript ends.]

[Posting...]

[zestyderg]

OH GOD THE DRAGON IS WRITING AGAIN. This story isn't as long as the corrupted Joe one, and will likely have a second part (otherwise I'll just make regular posts explaining the aftermath)

WARNINGS include: the patrol team being put in perilous situations, ZZ being one of the biggest bastards in the ocean and playing one of the meanest tricks on the patrol team, and a small mention of blood

This had got to be the worst day of his life...

Dino sat there in the dark water, his torso wrapped up tightly by an oversized tentacle. His field of view was nearly taken up entirely by the irritated face of Zongazonga. The great kraken mer eyed his little prisoner, and growled low in his throat, a sound that could easily be mistaken for rumbling thunder.

"Let's try this again. This time, you will answer truthfully. How did you acquire necromancy?"

Dino didn't know what to say at this point. He genuinely had no idea! It just... came to him naturally. Dino growled back at Zongazonga, his own frustration clear. He knew getting angry at someone who could kill him without thought was foolish, but he blurted out his response anyway.

"I'm telling you, that I have NO IDEA. I JUST RANDOMLY FOUND OUT I HAVE IT!" Dino spread his arms out as he shouted just to further prove his point. Not once did he break eye contact with his captor.

Zongazonga watched him, violet eyes scanning for any sign of weakness. When he didn't find any, he let out a snort.

"Fine, perhaps you do speak the truth, but that power of yours is supposed to be mine and mine alone, and I don't exactly feel like simply letting you go. Now, what should I do with a feeble octopus mer whelp with my magic?" Zongazonga lightly tapped his chin spikes with one blood red claw.

Dino really didn't want to hear what awful things the monstrous mer had in mind. He had to keep stalling. His friends would come to save him, surely. They'd come to rescue him, and Zongazonga would have to let him go. But what could he possibly say to keep Zongazonga from killing him before they got here? A thought then crossed his mind.

"Wait! You think I'm an octopus mer, right?!" Dino yelled up at Zongazonga. The giant mer stiffened, then raised a brow.

"What kind of idiotic question is that? You are a runt of an octopus mer, anyone with some semblance of a brain could figure that out," Zongazonga spat.

Dino yelled again, as loudly as his little lungs could muster, "WELL, YOU'RE WRONG! I'M NO OCTOPUS MER, I'M A KRAKEN, JUST LIKE YOU!"

That truly gave the horned behemoth pause. He hummed, like the creaking hull of a wooden ship. He slowly lifted Dino closer to his face, tilting his massive head as he examined the little mer. A kraken mer, like him? Zongazonga did not believe it.

"You lie," he hissed. But the more he looked at this tiny little whelp in front of him, the less he could deny the claim Dino made. Those eyes, slitted like his, and unlike an octopus mer. The growing spikes on his face, exactly like his own too. The necromancy...

Dino was not lying.

Zongazonga was not alone.

The titanic kraken mer's gaze was fixated on Dino, and he remained still as a statue. Shock was written all over his features, and Dino felt the desperate need to look away. This was getting very unnerving. Zongazonga's silence made it worse. Dino gulped nervously, ears drooping a little. His eight tentacles flexed anxiously.

He didn't just seal his fate, did he?

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

"YOU WHAT?" Despite her smaller size Stella had easily pinned Billy to the sandy ocean floor. Her claws were fastened into Billy's gloved wrists.

"Look, I-I didn't see 'em swim off, ok? They wanted to go play in the seagrass field and I let 'em, and I took a nap ya see. Didn't expect them to actually leave." The pilot whale mer explained. He struggled to meet Stella's furious gaze.

"I asked you to keep a close eye on them while Terry, Kent and I foraged. You know they are not allowed to stray too far. You KNOW what lies just beyond the seagrass and you let them go anyway," the enraged nurse shark mer hissed between sharp teeth. She dug her claws deeper into his wrists, small trails of blood drifting from the fresh cuts.

"And you took a nap on TOP OF THAT?!" Stella took in deep breaths, doing her best to steady herself before she ripped Billy apart then and there.

"I am going to fetch Joe and look for them. In the meantime, Terry and Kent will watch you, and if I find out that my kids were harmed in any way, I will slice you open, dump you out in the open ocean and let the local fauna have fun eating your entrails. Otherwise, I will simply exile you from the nursery, and you are NEVER TO RETURN. Understand?"

With wide, stunned eyes, Billy nodded frantically.

"GOOD," Stella finally let go of Billy and promptly swam off towards the coral reef. Terry and Kent gave him death stares.

"Dude, we gave you like one job. Why the FUCK would you let your guard down while watching the pups?! Little dudes are out there all by themselves. They must be terrified, especially with that Zongazonga guy swimming around," Kent shuddered. He wanted to help the kids but if Zongazonga was potentially involved then there wasn't much he could do. Joe was the best thing everyone had to keep that kraken in check.

"Consider yourself lucky that Stella didn't kill you then and there. I quite frankly would like to maim you myself, but unlike you, I will actually do my job and simply ensure you can't just leave instead." Every word was laced with venom, and Billy found himself shying away from Terry.

Billy hadn't really cared in the moment. Let the kids do whatever, they'd be fine. What could possibly go wrong? Everything, apparently. He didn't think he deserved death threats over it. Little brats should have the common sense to not put themselves in potential danger and give him a hard time. If they died, they had it coming.

His life was once again ruined, this time by some stupid children. The moment those shark mers turned their backs he was so out of here.

And if he crossed paths with those kids ever again, they would be very, VERY sorry that they'd ever made an enemy of Rockin' Billy.

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

Dina swam as fast as her eel-like body could go. Beside her, Todd and Pauleen were doing their best to keep up. Rupert swam up ahead, his seal lower half granting him the speed and agility his friends lacked.

The little leviathan mer was fuming. Zongazonga kidnapped her brother! How DARE he! Now she and her friends had to go and get him back. She should throw Todd at that stupid purple monster. This time she'll have him punch something important. If he did ANYTHING to her brother she would make his life a living hell.

They had immediately went after Zongazonga the moment he snatched Dino and disappeared into the depths. Now they were swimming through murky, oppressive, freezing water, surrounded by a seemingly never-ending field of bones, with no way of knowing if they were going the right way. Dina figured that they would run into Zongazonga's giant body eventually.

The unmistakable silhouette of Zongazonga did soon come into view, and Dina hissed. There the fucker was.

The kids approached the kraken. He laid on his side, one hand propped up his head, his tentacles lazily sprawled out behind him. His gaze fell on the quartet.

"Ah, it seems the whelp's little friends decided to come save him. How admirable," Zongazonga purred. One of his torn ears flicked.

The young mers frantically scanned the immediate area for their friend. The gigantic mer had used one of his tentacles to drag Dino away but now all of them were empty.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH DINO?!" Dina roared.

Zongazonga looked up and away as he thought up a response.

"Mmmmmm, I could tell you, but where would be the fun in that?" Zongazonga grinned, revealing jagged, crimson fangs, every tooth larger than each of the kids.

"It would be far more entertaining if you guessed," His grin grew wider.

"What makes you think we're gonna guess?!" Pauleen challenged. "We CAN and WILL make Todd hurt you if you don't answer!" She flared her fins out in defiance. Despite the show of bravery, she couldn't stop her arms from trembling.

Zongazonga sat there, unphased by Pauleen's threat. He chuckled to himself.

"No, do guess, I insist."

A large tentacle slunk towards the group from behind and before they knew it, it rushed forward and snatched Todd up near instantly. The tiny mantis shrimp flailed in protest as he dangled there in the open water. His human half was secured tightly in the kraken's grip, leaving him unable to reach Zongazonga with his smashers. He was defenseless.

Dina, Pauleen, and Rupert rushed to their friend's aid, but yet another massive tentacle shot towards them and they too were quickly caught by Zongazonga.

"TODD!" Dina screeched. She desperately clawed at Zongazonga's tentacle but that did absolutely nothing. She watched her friends try to do the same, only to be met with the same results.

Great, now all of them were trapped.

"You three can go on and make your guesses. As for you," he slowly turned to face Todd. He raised a finger at him, and something shot up from the ocean floor and bound itself to Todd's smashers. Dina and her friends gasped as an assortment of old bones and sinew held those devastating clubs tightly against his body. The faint sickly glow of magic danced along them. Todd couldn't even unfold the smashers anymore.

Zongazonga let them all go, and watched in mild amusement as Todd tried to rip the offending bones off, but to no avail.

He truly was defenseless now.

Uh oh.

The kids huddled close together, eyeing Zongazonga warily. They tried to slowly back away, but they all knew deep down that there was no hope in fleeing.

Rupert whispered harshly in Dina's ear. "Do as Zongazonga says or we may not swim out of here alive, let alone find Dino."

Dina shot Zongazonga a venomous glare but sighed and decided to play along.

"FINE! DID YOU HIDE HIM?! DID YOU HURT HIM?!" The thought of Zongazonga hurting her brother made her want to gouge his eyes out.

"You could say that he's very well hidden. He's quite close by too, I might add," Zongazonga replied smugly. "And I assure you, he is not dead at all."

Zongazonga could just be lying but Dina clung to the thought of her brother still being alive. If Zongazonga was telling the truth, then where the hell was Dino?

It was Rupert who barked another question before she could.

"Well, could you show us, then?"

That horrifying grin crept onto Zongazonga's face once more, and his eyes lit up with delight.

Why did that feel like the wrong question to ask?

"Of coouurse," He drawled, "In fact, I can take you to him, RIGHT NOW!" The kraken mer responded with great enthusiasm.

A sense of dread washed over the pups, and they exchanged worried looks amongst themselves.

Todd was the first to look back at Zongazonga, and his face quickly morphed from worried to mortified in a split second.

"GUYS-"

Everyone switched their focus back to Zongazonga and all of them froze up when they saw Zongazonga's jaws were outstretched as wide as possible.

Wait...

Suddenly, a strong current began to tug at them, and the little mers panicked once they realized the current was pulling them towards that cavernous maw.

No, nonoNONONONONONONO-

HE WAS SUCKING THEM IN!

Dina frantically looked around for anything to hold on to, and forced her way over to an exposed whale ribcage. She wrapped her body around one of the ribs and outstretched her hands towards her friends.

"GRAB ON!" She yelled, trying her best to keep her voice above the whooshing of water from the growing vortex.

Rupert managed to reach her first, and she grasped onto his arm tightly. Then he reached out with the other hand and Pauleen gripped his hand in turn.

Todd struggled to grab onto Pauleen's hand. He desperately tried to fight the strengthening current, but no matter how much he flapped his feathery little shrimp legs, he wasn't gaining any distance.

Pauleen stretched as far as she could, and she thankfully dug her claws into his shirt and held him steady. All of them clung to one another, trying their hardest to not let go. Water roared in their ears as the vortex grew stronger and stronger. To Dina, it was as though they were all caught in a tornado, or a hurricane.

She wasn't sure how long they could keep this up. They couldn't stay like this forever. They'd tire eventually, and when they did?

They were going to die.

It took a moment for everything to really sink in.

They were actually going to die. Dino was probably dead, and now they were going to join him. No one would be coming to save them in time. Not Stella, Terry, and Kent. Not Joe. Not Scatterly. Definitely not Billy. Hell, not even Lola, Lester and Cole. They were going to die.

Dina felt her grip on the bone slipping.

"DINA!! WHAT DO WE DO?!" Pauleen wailed. All of Dina's friends now had eyes on her. The little golden leviathan gave them an apologetic look.

Her body was pulled free from the ribcage, and as they all were dragged through the water and hurtled towards the living, hungry abyss in front of them, Dina hoped that at the very least, their deaths would be quick.

[princesscolumbia]

Double Isekai, Ch. 3

Did I intend to go on a rant about AIDS/HIV in its historical context vis a vis the queer community? No, no I did not.

Did it turn out fantastic anyway? Yes, yes it did.

Summary:

It's time to tell the tale to the most important people in Ranma's life, and a lot of old scars are going to be re-opened in the process.

EDIT: FUCK! I forgot to hit "schedule" instead of "Post"

Preview below the fold:

"Did she say..." Kasumi hesitated, "That something was wrong with Ranma?"

Nabiki stood against the inside of the fence, tapping her foot and keeping her arms crossed. She didn't like mysteries and the more time that passed after Kasumi's conversation with this woman yesterday, the more the mysteries compiled.

"I...think there is something wrong with him," said Akane, her hands flopping about like she sometimes did when she was stressed, "I saw him, he was in girl form and curled up at the kotatsu like he was sick or something."

Nabiki raised her eyebrow, "Well, whatever it is this Nodoka woman seems pretty sure she can handle it quickly or she would have sent us home."

Kasumi nodded, "Yes, I got the impression on the phone that she cared deeply for Ranma."

"Well, she's wealthy enough to buy new shoes for someone she just met, I saw them in the genkan when she was hurrying us back out."

"Why do you think she cares so much for Ranma, anyway?" asked Akane.

"I'd say they're related," answered Nabiki, "The woman's face and body structure is a dead-ringer for Ranma's girl-type body, and that's not even mentioning the hair color. Sure, her's is darker than Ranma's, but it's still a pretty identifiable red."

"That's quite the coincidence for someone who was mother's friend to happen to be related to Ranma," said Kasumi.

The door opened and their hostess stepped out again, "It makes more sense when you remember that your father and Ranma's have been friends for decades." said the woman, having apparently overheard them through the door. The three girls started, various levels of surprise etched on their faces as they took in Nodoka for the second time. She was quite the definition of a modern woman, wearing what to Nabiki's discerning eye to be men's trousers and a fetching blouse that had a touch of 'power' tailoring. "Ranma's been able to calm down a bit, you're very important and the anxiety for this meeting has been a bit...high." The three girls looked to each other in confusion as Nodoka continued, "As we explain what's happened, you will have questions and concerns, and a great deal of them, I'm sure. Please allow us to fully explain and we will answer all the questions you have as best we can. Now please, come in." She stepped aside and bowed, welcoming them into her home.

They entered, shedding their shoes and taking in the home. It was smaller than theirs, probably half the square footage overall, for all it was in a better neighborhood. The furnishings were somewhat plain and antiquated compared to the woman's outfit, and notable for its absence was a television. Nabiki did notice a large quantity of books stacked and shelved artlessly about the living room. There was a set of stairs leading to the second floor, likely where the bedrooms were, and a hallway stretching away from the living room, the telltale signs of a furo and laundry room being the only doors in that direction. Quickly exiting the genkan into the living room, the dining area was fully visible, with Ranma sitting primly and, perhaps most surprisingly, like a woman at the kotatsu. Nabiki was glad that all three of them paused in shock at the sight of Ranma, who was wearing clothes that he normally wouldn't be caught dead in, as she would have stood out if she was the only one who reacted. Most disturbing for Nabiki was he was smiling brightly and companionably at all three of them. She'd become quite used to Ranma barely tolerating her presence if not outright stating he'd rather be elsewhere if she were in the room.

"Please, girls, have a seat. I'll restart the heat on the kettle, I'm afraid we weren't quite sure when you'd be here and jumped the gun a little on that."

"Oh, I do apologize," said Kasumi, "I didn't remember a time being mentioned..."

"No, Kasumi-chan, that's just as much our fault, I'm afraid." said Nodoka as she went into her kitchen. Nabiki took the invitation and settled herself down across from Ranma, trying to puzzle out the latest development and very aware she lacked all the information, "In everything that happened yesterday setting a specific time slipped my mind." She did some similar motions in the kitchen that Nabiki recognized from her sister's usual bustling about in their own kitchen, some things were simply universal, it seemed. She turned to face them again, "You're here now, though, and that's what matters."

While she'd been talking, Akane sat on Nabiki's left and Kasumi on the right. Nodoka settled herself between Ranma and Kasumi, leaving a bit of a gap between Ranma and Akane, one which the pair seemed to notice and were eyeing it nervously. "To begin with," started Nodoka, "A proper introduction is in order, I think. I know who you all are, or at least of you well enough. Kasumi, of course, I spoke to you on the phone," she nodded at the eldest Tendo, "Nabiki, your reputation does precede you, but don't worry, I won't hold it against you," said the woman as she winked playfully, "And, of course, Akane." She sighed, "And I'm Nodoka Saotome, Ranma's mother."

Had any of them been holding anything, they would have dropped it. "What?!" gasped Akane.

"Oh, but we had thought...I mean..." began Kasumi.

"That I was dead? Yes, that seems to be the going theory. We bumped into a pair of your friends, Akane, earlier today at the mall. They were just as surprised that I was not, in fact, deceased."

Akane seemed to recover enough to gesture to Ranma, "So what's with the get-up?! You know he's a boy, right?"

Nodoka sighed, "Yes, Akane, I'm aware of Ranma's gender at birth. For reasons I will come to later, I will ask that you address Ranma and any discussion around her in the feminine form. For now, understand that I'm fully aware that, according to everything you know and Ranma's birth record, the person sitting before you is male."

"So, what," asked Nabiki, hoping to get to the heart of things, "Are you mad that Ranma let everyone think you were dead so you're making him..."

"Her," said Nodoka.

"Fine," snapped Nabiki in the same tone, "Are you making her act like a girl until some punishment is complete?"

Ranma's mother sighed, "I can understand, given the man that I married, why you would think as much. But no, were it only that complicated this would be much, much easier."

Read the rest on AO3.