#there are indeed spoilers in here if ya squint
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screampied · 28 days ago
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#WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER? t. fushiguro
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☆ sum. you know girl, usually when someone’s about to get stabbed, they scream—not moan. ghostface is supposed to be scary, intimidating, terrifying. but what happens when he’s tall, hot, and has a scar that runs down the right side of his lip? maybe his motive this time was to make you scream out his name in another way. welcome to act three.
wc. 7.0k
warnings. fem! reader, ghostface!toji, pwp, roleplay, unprotected, slight dacryphīlia, glove / mask kink, scream spoilers + references, dumbification, knīfe play, biting, he's crazy but your pússy's crazier, fīngering, riding his face mask, hair pulling, first time squīrt, cunnīlingus, pússy drunk toji, spīt, praise, dirty talk, petnames.
➤ kinktober mlist.
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“now girl, what the fuck was that,” a husky voice that sounds a bit muffled murmurs out to you. you’re laid on the ground, quite literally seeing the life flash before your eyes as the edge of his jagged knife glimmers against the ceiling light. peeking one open, you’re met with the covered soulless eyes of an infamous ghostface mask, and he’s tilting his head at you. “did i hear ya right?”
as he hovers over you, you speak in a breathy voice. growing sheepish, you glance away. “um, hear what?”
“you moaned, doll,” he replies, and the cottony flaps of his costume brush against your skin the closer he gets. as the coolly aerating air turns dead silent for a few moments, you could hear the sounds of his irregular breaths – deep sinister breaths . . and for some reason, it makes your thighs clench, and not in fear. “right as i said i was gonna gut ya like a fish,” and your own breathing hitched once his gloved finger strokes down your lip. “and i put the knife riiiiiight down here,” he slowly drags the prop down your nearly torn top, “you moaned right as i was about to strike. why?”
“i think . . you’re hearing things,” you rub the back of your neck, but you left off yet another moan the second he slides a knee between your legs.
“nah,” the masked man jibes, and it’s as if he’s staring right through your clothes. with a gloved hand he pulls up his mask, only showing part of his face. he pulls it down inches below his nose as you glance at his scarred lips that show. “think i heard quite well, princess,” and he slowly grazes the soft end of the knife further and further down your skin. “besides, like i said earlier. . i wanna play a game—and we can start with me asking,” and he pauses, leaning up close to your shell of your ear, warm breath tickling against your lobe. “you’re not wearing panties right now, are ya, princess?”
right at his words—your thighs stuck together and you felt a shiver run down your spine. it’s cold, and it made your eyebrow twitch at how insanely turned on you were.
usually, most people would scream or run—hell, even fight back. but it’s different when it’s you.
as he continued to straddle over you, you could have sworn you saw this movie before. .
and now, here you were—helpless indeed and on the floor as he hovers his weight over you, waving a his knife—(a knife that looks like a sort of cheap knockoff version of the one michael myers walks around with) in your face while his other hand mockingly cups your cheek.
“and if i’m not?” you mumble, fixating your eyes solely on the hole parts that shield his eyes.
it’s like you were staring at empty black voids, and no matter how hard you squinted – you just couldn’t see him at all. all you could make out was white and black plastic mask, and as he tilts his head again, he’s returning the gaze. fuck, each time he head tilts and cocks his head to a certain degree—it’s like he’s challenging you, taunting you even, and you’d constantly feel your thighs squeeze together tighter and tighter.
“ah, well,” he thinks for a moment, feeling his covered eyes bore at your body. in his mind, you looked so pretty sprawled all out and underneath him. with your chest heaving in and out as he continues to strum his gloved fingers down your exposed skin, he hums.
“maybe i’d just have ‘ta take a look for myself,” and your breath hitches again once he slowly drags the whetted edge of the knife down your polka dot blouse. with a loud tearing ‘shiiiiek’, a few of your buttons go loose as he’s easily dividing through the fabric with the blade. “cute, i’m assuming you’re not wearin’ a bra either,” and you felt yourself throb the moment he pauses his hands, staring at your perked tits. “phew,” he whistles, giving your pretty physique a nice three second stare. “nice rack.”
“you . . aren’t gonna—”
“—what, kill ya? oh, no doll. now that wouldn’t be fun,” he purrs, finishing your sentence.
it was almost embarrassing at how your body responded to him. you didn’t just wanted more, you craved it. staring right back at you were those same dark holes of a mask that you desperately wanted to see his true identity.
just who was he?
but judging from his voice though, it was a raspy low. . somewhat sounding of a way of smoker would speak. the voice sounded a bit older and of course—he had the body shape of a fucking tank.
as he lets off a low sigh, he shrugs his broad shoulders. “you’re too pretty for that. besides, i’m hard ‘n that little moan you did nearly ruined me if i’m bein’ honest.”
as a small impish smile forms against your glossed pursed lips, your nerves lessen. you stare up at the man before exhaling slight sudden relief. so you were gonna be in the sequel, score.
“so . . . what, is this the part where i’m supposed to beg for my life, mr. ghostface?” you had nothing really to lose, so why not play around with him for a bit – reverse psychology.
“actually,” he clicks his tongue, swiping a thumb down the keen edge of his dagger. it’s an eerie dead pause that whistles in the air once his gloved hands brush against your skin before he continues.
“this would be the part where you scream,” and as he presses his mask all the way against face, he’s so close that you get a glimpse of his scarred lips that poke underneath the cover. “but fuck it. since y’er not scared yet, guess i’ll have ‘ta get that heart racin’ one way or another.”
and toji—who was apparently his name, does this in no other way but propping himself right between your legs.
long story short, everything escalated quickly. so quickly that one minute you were on the floor quote and quote “fearing” for your life and the next . . ? you find yourself being tossed on your velveteen cushioned sofa, voluntarily spreading your legs out for him like some slut out of a cheesy predictable horror movie.
if you were being completely honest, the real killer was his tongue . . because for the life of you, you just couldn’t get over how sloppy he moved it in different directions.
toji kept his mask on the entire time, but it’s pulled up just a tad bit to where you’re only getting a tiny glimpse of the lower part of his face. the fabric just barely shields the bottom part of his nose as his scarred thin lips press their way against your sopping folds.
“fuuuck,” you’d whimper, preferring this over death any day.
right away, you spot the scar that slashes straight down the right side of his lip and it’s a small but attractive feature. every few seconds, he’d purposely smear that part of his mouth against your cunt, earning out a candied ‘ooh!’ from you. within seconds, your numbed thighs were already starting to stick together – like glue.
letting off a sharp drawn out gasp, you glance near your nightstand and the alarm that sits above it. the time was a quarter past two . . and well, some would ask how you’d even get yourself in this situation.
truth is, you didn’t really know either but you damn sure weren’t exactly complaining either. toji found you a bit strange though.
usually people would run from him but you . . you moaned right as you were about to meet your maker. weird, and he’s heard countless screams but never once like yours. that’s kind of because yours wasn’t even a scream, it was a literal moan.
and he wanted to hear more and more of it.
it intrigued him – you intrigued him, and he sort of wants to make you scream in a whole other way though, especially since he’s got you right where he wants. sprawled all out, legs fucking spread . .
“do you . . have to keep this stupid thing on?” you breathlessly grouse, a cute pout curling against your lips as your hands grab the top of his head.
it sort of irked you how he kept his ghostface mask on the entire duration he’s positioned between your legs. with a tight grip, you yank him forward and he groans against your cunt. toji peppers sloppy kisses against your pudgy folds before staring up at you, a faint smirk twisting against his own lips. huffing out an annoyed exhale, you grump. “ ‘s not like ‘m gonna turn you in or anything. i never even found ghostface scary anywa—”
toji snickers. “yeahhh, right,” and you shiver, watching with low hooded eyes as he gathers a glossy string of spit in his mouth.
as your legs quivered from the single grip of one of his hands, he spits right on your teary pussy, watching the lustrous trail of slime drag down his chin. “i’ll think about it,” and he laps his own mess right up, dexterously creating nasty slosh sounds with his exaggerated smacking lips.
with a teasing pat of his gloved hand, he smears the slick puddle that rests on your entrance before humming. “cute, seems like y’er pussy’s tryna seduce me though.”
you let off a whimper, not knowing how long your legs could remain open as he’s toying with your clit. fat clothed fingers drag their way down your slobbering cunt, drawing various circles and shapes around your knobbling nub as a breath snatches from your full lungs. “s- shit, spit on it ‘s more,” you’d weep, feeling your own lips part into a curling ‘o’ shape as you’re in carnal awe.
“now, doll,” he’d whisper against your folds, slurping you clean and savoring the taste of your bittersweet fervor on his tongue.
toji brings two thick fingers toward the outer part of your clit before it slowly starts to disappear inside. it’s like a magic trick — you watch them slowly disintegrate inside of your sopping cunt and you whimper, feeling them curl their ways inside.
as he’s preparing to pump both digits inside, your tummy caves in and you let off a sweet moan the second his long digits start to scissor inside of you. “since ‘m gonna spare ya, i think it’s time we set some ground rules,” and as his hot breath continues to fan against your twitching sex—your grip tightens near the top part of his mask. “don’t tell me how to eat, yeah?”
a timid whimper was your response and you watch how his lips carve into a haughty smile. with a second thought, toji spanks your cunt and he hums, hearing the wet back-talking chatter of squelches leave from your pussy.
as you’re twitching and pulsating from the tender stimulation—you feel him starting to lay his long tongue flat. starting from bottom to top, he eats out your cunt as if it was served to him on a silver fucking platter. “afraid ‘m gonna need an answer, little girl.”
“y- yes,” you let off a soft shrilling gasp, feeling his callused fingertips prod deep inside your gummy clenching walls. toji’s gloved digits felt scorchingly warm inside you, and with just a swift motion, he twirls them ‘round and ‘round, barreling each long inch inside of your pretty pussy.
god, if his fingers were this long, you only imagined imagined what his dick would feel like. the feeling alone made your stomach flutter uncontrollably as your teeth sink into the skin coating your bottom lip.
this was bad, this was really really bad . .
you were probably breaking every cliche horror movie rule in the book . . or in this case, the script. you were supposed to run, not open your legs. but, what’s the saying? you only live once, and that’s if you survive his tongue.
toji was ruthless.
his head moves back and forth as he munched on your pussy, playfully nipping the pearly edges teeth against your clit. each time he does that, you’re sensitive and you whine out a sweet battle cry, rutting your hips further into his greedy slick mouth. your legs nearly suffocated him but he didn’t care, and each long stripe that he creates with his sticky tongue earns out a bundle of whiny whimpers from you.
you had no panties on, and he was basically eating you out with nothing but a skirt that’s pulled up toward your waist—clinging against your jerking, active hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you abruptly gasp, feeling your legs already starting to weaken.
by this point, he’s not even eating your pussy anymore, he’s damn near making out with it. toji’s making out with your pussy – with tongue, and lots lots of it.
he’s creating darting motions with the pointed tip of his tongue, barely batting a single lash of an eye that his chin’s starting to glimmer with sheeny slick. your sheeny slick. as you occasionally look down, you only see that same part of his face that’s shown—but it makes you throb regardless, just imagining just what he really looked like.
you knew he was tall—that much was apparent, a strong burly build and a cocky persona to match.
“yeah? give it to me then,” he interrupts your thoughts as a wolffish grin spreads across his lips like butter.
toji’s thick fingers resume to mercilessly plummet in and out of you and he feels his jaw locking. your taste—he couldn’t get enough of it, and pretty soon he’s the epitome of pussy drunk.
you tasted so sweet, and you let off a whimper once he pulls up his mask just a little bit further. “heh,” he huffs out, and he stops it just at the hem of his button shaped nose. as that same wry smirk compresses against his lips, you spot his dimples stretching out near the corners. leaning all the way in, toji gives your cunt a three second sniff before cupping his lips over your pulsating cunt. “mmph—actually, hold on doll.”
as you’re panting heavily, a look of confusion marinates against your features once you watch him prepare to take off his mask. with a bubbly ‘pop’, toji slowly slides his fingers out of you before glancing at your impatient face.
“ah ah, close ‘em,” he clicks his tongue, watching your pretty clit twitch at his demand.
you pout, feeling a brief sting as you’re being delayed of your long awaited release. with a cute sigh, you place a hand over eyes, your vision turning completely dark. “good girl . . now,” he huffs lowly, and you hear a bit of shuffling. toji sits you up and you feel something place underneath your legs. his voice was close, and it sounds like he’s near the side of you. “cum on my mask, pretty girl. can ya do that for me?”
“uh, okay,” you shakily reply, feeling him prop up your hips to sit right up against the ghostly mouth part. it’s eerily carved into a long hanging oval shape and you moan—feeling how warm it was from the front. it makes you pulse, knowing that his mouth was just behind that exact spot a few seconds ago.
even though your eyes were still covered with your own hand, you feel a daunting chill run down your spine yet again, sensing his cold haunting presence.
whoever he was, he was watching you right now, get off . . on his mask.
you let off a quiet moan as your hips started to rut against the propped plastic. you were drenched, and a bit of slick sticks down against your thighs.
toji feels his dick strain in his ripped jeans as he openly stares like a stalker — pretty, you looked so pretty like this. grinding your sweet cunt against the mask he wears on a daily. now that he thinks about it, it’d be a pretty good souvenir.
“touch yourself too,” he’d rasp, kneeling down closer to you. toji gets behind you, and you whimper once you feel the frigid edge of his knife slowly drag down your skin. he starts a trail, and he’s safe surprisingly—making sure to not nip your skin, but it’s close enough to where you feel the coldness of the steel.
as your needy whines pitch louder, you find yourself now guiding a hand near your bouncing breasts. a bit of the ripped fabric of your blouse runs against your fingertips and toji feels himself getting more hard just watching you. “yeah, baby. that’s it. get my fuckin’ mask wet so i can taste it after.”
“tojiiii, ‘m cumming—fuck,” and as he’s got one of his own hands grabbing onto your left tit, you end up finishing.
you’re cutely hysterical, creaming all on the mouth part of his mask as shame swells in your chest. “ngh, fuck fuck.” you babble, your thighs submitting defeat as he pulls you back against his chest. it felt hard, and you couldn’t help but imagine how built he probably was.
toji presses a cold kiss near the left side of your neck. his frigid lips makes you whimper as your head tilts to the left.
his touch . . you only wanted more, and he could tell from the way that the hand that was at first cupping your breast now starts to reach toward his wrist. “atta girl,” he whispers, and right as you were about to remove your other hand off your eyes, he places his own back over your face. “nice try, sweetheart. gotta be patient.”
you continue to pout, and toji slides the drenched front part of his mask from underneath your legs and brings it up to his lips. “mhm, would ya look at that,” and as you’re panting on his chest, still frantic from your recent orgasm, you hear him cleaning it off with his tongue.
he trails his tongue to where your cunt sat against the mouth part, lapping it up and relishes in your sweet taste entirely. “fuck, sweetest thing i’ve had in a while.”
you dig your nails into his thigh as you’re trying to get over your high, speaking in a needy voice.
“t.. toji,” and he finds it cute how you’re speaking through gritted teeth. he could tell you were annoyed with him, how you weren’t fond of his teasing at all.
“hm, what is it?” he replies, giving his mask a satisfied glance once he finishes. it shines in the dim light—and he licks his lips as the right side of his mouth twitches into a devious simper.
“can . . can i have a kiss?” and the words came out of your mouth oh so sweetly.
you don’t know what came over you, but your body was just fed up. something was screaming at you, hollering at you to get a taste. you throbbed, secretly yearning to feel his lips crash on yours. the entire time he was buried between your legs, it was all you thought about, constantly.
toji hums, tilting his head as he faces you. “a kiss, huh?” and he’s still got a hand covering your eyes.
he ponders about it for a while before a low guffaw leaves from his thin lips. “aw, you want a taste of yourself too, don’t you dirty girl?” and once you shamelessly nod in response, toji’s shoulders drop. “fine, you’ll get that kiss. c’mere,”
and you could feel him inching closer and closer closer. toji’s cologne was loud—it’s a manly musk of what you think was rosemary and cedarwood.
it practically blinds the insides of your flared nostrils the more he closes the awkward distance between you both. your cunt’s pulses start to quicken before he’s merely just inches away from your lips now. “stupid, stupid girl,” he pulls your bottom lip down with a gloved finger, and that’s when he stares at your pretty plump lips before whispering. “beg me.”
“i’m not gonna—”
“no beg, no fuckin’ kiss,” he cuts you off, and you grumble. it was almost embarrassing at how your pussy gave away your true dirty feelings. you continued to twitch, and you let off a defeated sigh once his smears a thumb over your wet lips.
“please . . please, kiss me,” and as you speak, he continues to softly caress the curvature of your mouth. you could hear him breathing from behind the mask. it was short raspy breaths and what would usually frighten most people, turned you on.
toji runs a hand through his jet black tresses before a cunning smirk pierces the corners of his lips. “that’s more like it,” and his lips were almost touching yours – almost, a mere breath away.
you could never get over how deep his voice. it’s as if he didn’t need a voice changer like the ones they’d always use in the movies. his was naturally just as gritty, just as husky.
“obedient . . good,” and as he playfully licks near your bottom lip, toji grunts, “mouth, open.”
you moan, feeling his hand reach between your legs, squeezing your pussy. once your lips part and your mouth opens, toji spits right inside, staring as your cute tongue tries to catch it all.
it’s quick, and before you knew it – his lips hurriedly crash onto yours. within seconds, teeth starts to clash amongst each other and you helplessly whine in his mouth. this, this was what you wanted. a kiss.
one gloved hand of his remains covered over your eyes whilst another snakes its way between your legs. toji’s rubbing against your cunt, feeling your cute hips grind against him as you try to squirm and writhe. you were still so tender. his mouth was cold, and you can’t help but moan at the literal taste of yourself washing back against your tongue.
you feel his scar that slants down the right side of his lip rub off against your lips and his lips curve into a sly smirk. “nasty girl,” he murmurs between hot kisses, and you gasp once he starts to maneuver quicker circles against your cunt.
you were soaked already, still sensitive from your recent release but that’s when he lies you back down. as you fall down on the sofa, toji deepens the kiss for a few extra seconds, abruptly pulling away. a pretty decorated string of glittery saliva tugs away from both lips and he wipes your wet mouth, snickering. “such a damn baby. got me spoilin’ you already, tch.”
he’s still got your eyes covered, but that’s right when you reach out . . not expecting your hand to grab near his hardened bulge that hides underneath his cloak.
toji pauses, staring at you before you squeeze it and he groans. “what now, doll? still not satisfied?”
“fuck me,” you murmur, but it’s more of a pathetic whine.
you didn’t care anymore—you were at your wits ends. the erotic two words and six letters easily flowed past your lips as if you were dying to say it for the longest, and in this case – you were.
toji’s amused more than anything, and he’s well aware that you’re far not like the others.
this wasn’t just a usual psycho killer versus helpless victim, this was something more . .
“strong words, baby,” he purrs against your ear, licking a stripe down your neck. toji holds your weak rickety hips in place, still shielding your eyes with his palm before showering a good part of your collarbone with a plethora of sloppy kisses.
uh oh, he was starting to get attached. already, he could feel it . . and he knew you were gonna be nothing but a fucking problem in the long run.
a problem he didn’t mind tampering with for a bit.
“say it again,” he whispers, and this time he picks up his knife once more.
it gradually tears down your blouse all the way from the center, openly staring your tits spring open. “tell me what you want me ‘ta do to you again,” and as his husky voice lowers a single octave within each coarse sentence, you squeeze your thighs together.
toji focuses the edge of his knife against your skin and you shiver, feeling it softly brush against the bristles of hair that coat your skin.
the thing that pissed him off though was that you weren’t even scared of him . . no, far from it actually.
you were aroused—hell, maybe even just as crazy as him.
“fuck me, toji.” you repeat, taking it upon yourself to grab the handle of the knife. he raises a brow as he watches, and you bring the wooden end up to your lips, deciding to be a tease and lowering your mouth down it. toji huffs, growing annoyed at your audacity — but fuck, he’s into it.
and all he’s imagining at the moment is your pretty lips that’s wrapped around the handle of his knife being wrapped around his dick instead. you start sucking on it until it taps near the scaled back of your throat, reaching past the roof of your mouth and he scoffs.
brat.
“got some nerve, suckin’ on my damn knife, girl,” and he snatches it away, softly turning you around, pushing you near the right arm of the couch.
you gasp, feeling him swat a hand against your bare ass before he grabs your hips. his movements were so fast that you could barely keep up let alone react. “fine, i’ll fuck you,” and he’s not covering your eyes anymore.
right as you were about to turn around, toji grabs the back of your neck with a gloved hand, tittering. “don’t try me. eyes forward, head down,” and you moan, feeling him pick your hips up—making your rear grind and jostle against his hardening bulge. “ass. fuckin’. up.”
you kiss your teeth, feeling another breath of air leave out your lungs before you whine. toji’s rough, and he’s got a firm grip against your waist before springing out his dick. he grunts, rolling his eyes as he watches you impatiently wriggle your ass, hoping he’d hurry up already.
“can’t wait, can ya baby?” he utters, stroking his length.
as a thumb of his nearly grazes his throbbing vein, his eyes gaze toward your sopping creamy pussy. all wet, and just for him. the antagonizing wait for him to just fuck you like you wanted became almost unbearable, and the second you feel his tip side-swipe against the entrance of your cunt it was over.
a swollen fat tip smacks vigorously against your pussy, and one smack turns into two, then three, then four. .
as he’s slapping his mushroomy cockhead against your drooling pool of heat, you hear a low chortle from behind you. “god, she’s a fuckin’ wet one, ain’t she?” and you whine, hearing yourself squelch each time his angry tip whacks against your poor soddened flaps. ‘whack’ after ‘whack’ and the sounds of his dick slapping against your pussy slowly started to clank through one ear of yours and out the other.
but doing so—the pulsing sensation between your legs only increased, and by now, you were starting to chew on your tongue.
anticipation was eating away at you as you let off a moan, cutely grumbling. “just fuck me already.”
“how ‘bout i leave you ‘n let you fuck yourself,” he snaps back, matching your sass.
oh. you weren’t really used to someone matching your energy—especially a masked man walking around in a ghostface mask but well, that’s besides the point.
toji’s still got a gloved hand wrapped around his hefty length that’s covered in lighting-like twitching veins before he groans.
he’s so fucking hard . . and the more he stares at your pretty sobbing cunt, the more he understands why. “don’t think you’d like that now though, would ya?”
“n- no,” you reply truthfully, letting off a pornographic moan once he starts to align himself between your gaping slit.
it’s fat, and you could tell from the feeling of the size of his monstrous tip alone. you sort of wished you were facing him but alas, you’d just have to use your imagination for now. “fuckk,” you breathe, already starting to feel your eyes rolling back.
the stretch, god the stretch. you thought his fingers was something but it’s nothing compared to his cock. your toes were already curling up, and oh, you knew you were fucked.
toji’s got a few curly black specks of hair that resides near his base—and as he’s slowly easing himself inside, he feels you tightening. right as you do, you feel a vein that runs down his shaft prod.
he feels it – you feel it, and you both hiss in unison. “goddamn,” he grumbles, staring as your own sappy slick starts to glue against his sculptured pelvis. tiny glimmering strands stick and tape against his skin all because of you and it’s just messy. toji smacks your ass one more time before lightly pushing your head into the satiny covered pillow. “move, move those hips or ‘m gonna pull out, doll.”
“mmph—s- so fuckin’ big,” you babble, bringing a bawled up fist into your mouth.
your sweet moans become muffled as his dick’s gradually expanding through your gummy walls, leaving his very mark with his tip. he’s rummaging through every part of you and you gasp—feeling your cunt welcome him wholly, your squelches becoming louder and louder. your tummy starts to churn the more he sinks in deeper and your lips form into a cute gasping shape. “oh, fuck. ‘s gonna break me, toji.”
“pft. don’t be dramatic doll,” he purrs, swatting another smack against your ass. the shape brief sting that only lasts for about five seconds makes you moan once your hips finally starts to move.
it takes a few lengthy seconds before with a wet ‘pop’, he bottoms out. so . . much . . girth, your empty brain was spinning cogwheels, trying to process just how could a guy be this fucking big.
your reaction to how well he stretched you of course, fueled a good portion of his highly cocky ego.
toji’s got a hooked curve too—and you feel it all. toji teasingly gives you one thrust, just one single thrust and you felt like you were gonna snap in half. it was that much power of his hips—you felt the wind get snatched out of you and the prettiest moan left from your lips.
biting down on your lip again, you’re feeling all of his hefty length massage the insides of your cunt. milliseconds shortly past before you then start to feel yourself shamelessly drooling on your split knuckles.
“fuck, fuck,” you chant in a quiet mumble, seeing nothing but inky black as your eyelids continue to flutter open and close.
toji had the kind of size that left butterflies in your tummy – a school of them to be specific, and you felt every single inch of him plummet its way inside. as you’re still babbling incoherent whimpers and whines at how snug he’s buried in you—toji starts to move faster with you.
with two hands, he holds you in place. darkened brows of his crease into a furrow as he sighs. “mhm, atta girl. see, look at you,” and you could hear the playful sarcasm seeping off his tone.
“takin’ it like a fuckin’—champ,” and right at that last word of his sentence, he starts to roll his hips just a bit quicker.
toji tries to match your berserk movement with his own hips, but he ends up beating your pace entirely. you’re trying to keep up but failing miserably and it’s just so cute. . but your face probably wasn’t as cute.
you probably looked a sight—mouth all open, jaw dropped and dangling, eyes bulging, pathetically drooling for more and more and . . you get it.
“hng, harder. fuck me,” you whine, the sound of skin and hips clashing repeating in your ears.
your sloppy cunt’s soaking him from the back, and his backshots were just brutal – killer.
each thrust serves its purpose every time and you’re left speechless. after a while, both bodies start to move rhythmically as your jaw’s just dangling.
damn, randy meeks would be shaking his head, tossing ‘n turning in his grave if he saw this.
under no circumstances . . never ever fuck the masked killer, and yet here you were.
but, who gives a fuck about movies?
you didn’t—not really, and when he had a mean stroke game like toji, you weren’t the type to complain. he’s hitting you deep with his fat splitting tip, filthily cruising his hips into you at such precise vigor until you’re just spouting a whole load of nothin’.
“ugh, right there. right fuckin’ there, fuck,” and you let off a cooing mewl once toji’s hand wraps around your throat.
with a few fingers, he gives you a safe squeeze that earns out a faint gasping croak from the back of your throat. toji uses your neck as leverage as he’s pounding into you rawly, ravaging your insides and all. your pearled clit’s repeatedly getting hit with his plump crown and you gasp, squeaking loudly once he taps against your precious g-spot.
all of a sudden, your brain’s fuzzy and you’re seeing stars—somewhat like a cartoon character. you were silly, literally being fucked silly. “fuuuck!” and it catches you by surprise.
once he reaches past that cute ‘lil spongey barrier of yours, it was over.
you were pronounced dead—dead from cock, and pretty soon you were starting to feel yourself go into a lewd white fantasm for a few seconds.
you’re dumb, dumbly fucked stupid from his sloppy enticing hits that you could barely speak coherently. it felt good, it felt so fucking good, and as you feel his heavy base slam back into you again and again, you start to moan. “yeah, i know, i know, baby,” toji huffs, and your cunt’s just addictive. your walls cling onto him tightly, hugging around him like a vice—threatening to never let go.
your sheer sweltering warmth from the inside makes his head slightly toss back to a certain degree and it’s sexy. if only you were to see it. “god, clampin’ down on me so good. work those hips baby, yeah. give me a fuckin’ show.”
as you try to match his crazed tempo. . eventually, you start to feel a tender feeling arise in the lower part of your tummy.
its familiar, and you can recognize that hot brewing sensation from anywhere. you’re close, and as wanton shrilling whines continue to drag away from your lips you start to spasm.
“fuuucck, toji something’s coming,” you whimper, dragging out your words, and you don’t think it was a regular orgasm.
it was far different . . the feeling was equivalent to someone harshly pressing a palm down on your stomach. your eyes squeeze shut before you repeat yourself through quivering glossed lips. “toji, ‘m gonna—”
“yeah yeah, i heard ya,” he maunders, and he’s feeling himself reaching his inevitable peak too.
it doesn’t take long before he feels the undersides of his meaty thighs starting to burn with hot intensity. toji’s fat cock continues to drag in and out of your goopy walls, hearing you squelch over and over him and he snarls. “fuck,” and he punctuates his thrusts, watching as your ass swiftly slams back into him at such speed. his abs that hide underneath his dark cloak tensing. “same time, baby. finish with me.”
“o.. okay,” you moan, and he’s still got a gloved hand wrapped around your throat the entire time. a thumb of his caresses down your nape, humming at your pretty twitching body underneath him.
it’s a sight he’d love to get used to.
as you’re both chasing your delirious orgasmic peaks—toji presents to your cunt one final thrust that sends your entire body into a crazed stupefied state. your plush cheek near the left side of your face smushes against the pillow before you whimper, starting to feel yourself spritz on him.
your eyes widen as it happens. a spraying geyser shoots out you as you let go—and oh, you’re soaking toji right with you, glossing his entire cock from the base down.
“oh my god, fuck, fuh—fuck!” you sob in craving pleasure, flapping eyelids sticking together from the pretty glassy tears that start to form. so good, it’s a feeling you’ve never felt before and you felt like a weight was gradually being lifted off your shoulders . . including your sweet pussy.
toji finishes seconds later and he groans, stilling his hips against you. creamy velvety bundles of ribbons pours into your cunt and he lets off a low growl. “fuck,” and his hand smacks against your ass again for the nth time.
you felt warm as he’s continuing to spill such a mass amount whilst at the exact same time, you’re drenching his cock – putting faucets to shame at just how damn wet you were.
toji’s cock eventually turns flaccid and soft as his tip and peeled frenulum spits a good amount, watching your body limp underneath him.
with a sly exhausted grin stretching across his scarred lips, he traces his fingers down your spine. “my, oh my,” and you whine, finally finishing. toji stares at your body, feeling you weakly writhe your hips before finally submitting defeat. “did you jus . . fuckin’ squirt on me, pretty girl?”
you did,
and you end up dampening up the cushions of your burgundy colored sofa in the process. you felt like you were floating, panting and heaving ridiculously like a dog. toji brings his hips to a sudden stop, gazing at the ivory wads and ropes of cum that fill inside of your cunt.
slowly but surely . . it starts to race down the crevices of your thighs, splotches of white splattering against your skin. in a dirty, filthy way, it’s pretty – in toji’s mind at least.
he luxuriated at the sight of you all fucked out and speechless. not a word came from your lips except for the occasional whimpers and moaning sobs that would tear out your throat. you were still arched over, moaning once you feel him slowly starting to pull out. “ain’t that a pretty sight,” he rasps, hearing his cock sweetly ‘pop’ out of your creamy fat folds.
you’re oozing out with so so much of his gooey lush cum and it makes him licks his lips. you looked delicious, and he couldn’t help but swipe a finger down your runny cunt, bringing his eager digit up to his lips just to get a taste for himself.
toji was a nasty man—but with the way you tasted, he was even nastier.
as he licks his gloved finger that contains the concoction mess of both sappy liquids, he hums in amusement. “mhm,” and as his leafy viridescent colored eyes linger down towards your cunt, he smears his leaky tip over your pussy.
toji grunts, making sure to paint the entirety of your entrance with his pasty cum that sobs down parched folds. “good girl, good . . fuckin’ girl.”
toji stays like that for a while, and it’s only after an abrupt pausing moment that he makes you turn around to face him. he makes you lie flat on your back, and there, you’re met with the eyes of a handsome smug man. his features were as sly as his attitude, and his ruffled black hair was naturally messy.
“surprise,” he mutters, and you intake a breath once he gets on top of you again. toji doesn’t have the mask on anymore—but he still has on the costume part, a ghoulish black cloak that had slits near the edges of his sleeves. “scared yet?”
“not . . really,” you sheepishly say, slowly trailing your eyes down his body.
squinting just enough, you saw right through the outline of his muscular frame. he was fucking ripped, and you felt yourself throb the moment you started to imagine him wrapping those big burly arms around your—
“figures,” he scoffs, though his tone’s a bit more playful than annoyed. toji runs a big veiny hand through his hair before bringing his watch up to his face. wrinkling his nose, he hums. “gotta run, doll. ‘s been fun.”
a pout pulls against both sides of your lips as he says he has to depart. sure, you didn’t exactly expect him to stay . . well who were you kidding, you sort of did. but you knew he had to go.
your thighs stick together as he remains on top of you, watching him pull his mask back on. with a slightly worn out voice, you murmur. “you can’t stay?”
“no, i can’t stay,” he snickers, knowing you wanted more. toji’s head friskily tilts as you stare at him with a cute doe-eyed expression, still pouting and he rolls his eyes behind the mask. “god, fine. greedy little thing aren’t ‘cha?”
and you hear a bit of shuffling, watching him fish a hand in his pocket as his jeans were now pulled up and made presentable again. toji grabs a sharpie out of his pocket before pulling your waist closer toward him. “tsk. stay still,” and you’re curious to what he was about to do, not daring to move an inch.
you’re all bare and exposed, and you let off a soft exhale once he starts to write something right below your belly button. just a few more inches down and he’d be writing on your pussy.
it lasts for about seven seconds before he stops, adding a heart near the end of what was a ten digit phone number.
“alright, princess. here’s my number. whenever you’re feelin’ horny, just give me a call, yeah?”
and before you could even reply, he leans up to you—pulling up his ghostface mask over his lips, giving you a long teasing kiss. you moan into his mouth, smelling a scent of his cologne before he leisurely pulls away. toji whispers against your lips for one final time before pressing a thumb toward your throat.
“i’ll always come back.”
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whatgoesthroughmyhead · 2 months ago
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Spoiler warning! A significant component to the ending of Adolescence of Utena is discussed here. If I were you I'd only read this after watching the show and the movie.
Okay, I need to talk about the Utena car, because I'm a huge car nerd, and its design is SO STRANGE. (I'll be talking about the car's first iteration, because it's the most developed and interesting version.)
[more pics of the car here]
To start, let's look at the recognizable/evocative shapes that are incorporated into the design. I see a high-heeled shoe as the central shape, and then the obvious horse head shapes over the front wheels. If the core shape is indeed meant to call to mind a high-heeled shoe, I take that as being symbolic of Anthy's feminine elegance, with a touch of "don't fuck with me" aggression in that sharply-pointed "toe." It makes sense that the cockpit area is designed more for Anthy, since she's the driver (and the only one with a key). Also that aggressively pointed tip suits Anthy because she is very much associated with swords, and she's become an empowered badass who's not interested in taking shit from anyone anymore. Also worth noting: in episode three of the show, we see Anthy & Utena's first dance, and Anthy is wearing high heels, so there's definitely precedent for this shoe imagery. And that first dance is significant; it's their first time joyously holding each other!
As for the horse heads, I take them as representing the regal/princely nature that Utena has aspired to for so long, as well as the raw, natural force of will that Utena has in spades (especially for her girl Anthy). Also, horses are transportation with heart. Horses get you around while also being sensitive, feeling creatures. Utena has big, deep feelings and care for Anthy, so this fits well. And one more point before moving on: trust and "oneness" between horse and rider are totally a thing, and these are themes that easily fit here.
Okay now to get into what's really interesting (to me), particularly because it's such a subtle and unexpected detail. The Utena car is front-wheel drive, not rear-wheel drive like the majority of performance-oriented cars are. This was a deliberate design choice. If you look closely you can see there are driveshafts attached to the front wheels, but not the rears. That means the power of the engine (Utena's heart) is directed ahead and pulls the car forward from the front, rather than pushing it from the rear. I have no doubt this is significant. Both Anthy and Utena are motivated by a "pull" towards a better future. Their hope is pulling them forward. Their motivation is not a fear-based push from behind, as awful—and arguably frightening—as the shit behind them may be.
Something else to note is: front-wheel drive cars tend to be more stable and easy/intuitive to handle than rear-wheel drive cars, especially for beginner drivers. If Utena had any deciding influence in what kind of car to become, it makes sense that she would choose a layout that would increase Anthy's chances of staying on course and achieving the desired outcome. And Utena & Anthy are still new to their relationship. An easy-to-handle, beginner-friendly automobile is a great choice in this instance, especially considering all the hardship Anthy has endured. Utena would want Anthy to have the easiest time possible with this dash to a new and unknown future.
Finally I want to highlight how the overall design of the car is strongly forward-oriented. The vast majority of what's going on—both in terms of design and engineering—is at the front end of this car. The tail end almost feels like an afterthought in comparison. As I see it, this emphasizes that Anthy & Utena are focused on what's ahead of them, and only minding what's behind them as far as is necessary, and no more than that.
The design of this car is inherently hopeful.
That's my take. Thanks for reading!
P.S. - I've just realized that if ya squint, the Utena car looks kinda like a naked man laying back, with his pointy dingus hanging out for all to see. So maybe there's some trans masculine imagery here too; I don't know. It would certainly fit with Utena's tomboyishness, and the big-long-dong second iteration of the car. Anyway I'll leave it at that for now lol.
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the-starry-lycan · 10 months ago
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Across the Stars
[This is indeed a sea of stars fanfic, and is part of an AU I'm working on. You'll learn more as future chapters are posted.. but for now, enjoy the first chapter! If you haven't played or watched a playthrough of Sea of Stars, I highly recommend you do so before you read this, since this fanfic has MASSIVE spoilers! For TWs, I guess anything related to the canon of this series? There won't be anything NSFW or 18+ in this fic.]
Chapter 1: On The Way To Wraith Island
"Take in the sunlight, pals, I hear Wraith Island is reaaaal gloomy!" Valtraid called out as he stretched his arms toward the sun. "Yeah, a good 'ol soul-based Dweller'll do that." Yolande said, looking out at sea. 
"Heh. Nothing you solstice folk can't fix, ov course." She added, noticing the worried look on Zale's face. The Blade Dancer looked out at the horizon. There was water surrounding them entirely; water in front, water behind, water on the sides. He'd swum before, but never sailed like this. This much water made him uneasy, but he kept quiet seeing as to how the others didn't mind it. Valere especially seemed to be enjoying the humidity, sitting cross-legged on the little raft and looking out at the expanse of ocean with Garl.
"Zale! Zale, come here, look at this!" Zale jumped, then crawled over to see what Garl was pointing at in the water.
"You see that?"
The boy squinted, peering down.. and saw a shadow move beneath. Something long and twisting, likely deep below them, snaked slowly through the depths of the water and out of sight.
"Gaah! What is that?!" Zale startled, creeping away from the water's edge. "Sea monster, o' course!" Yolande said cheerfully. "The seas are full ov em, but they don't mind ya unless ya piss 'em off or something."
"Woah! Have you guys ever fought a sea monster before?" Garl asked her, enthusiastic.
"Us? We've had our fair share ov battles!" Yolande flexed an arm with Valtraid. "Why, one time, we-"
"YOLANDE!"
Klee'shae's sharp voice cut through their conversations. The pirate captain glared at her crewmates, red eyes fierce.
"Sorry, cap'n. Well, 'fraid I can't tell ya the details, but we've fought, yeah."
"Well, who knows? We might see this creature on our way back!" Garl looked about, smiling a little nervously.
Yolande let out a laugh. "Haha! You haven't heard about the one-way-trip deal with Wraith Island, have you?"
"What do you mean?" Garl asked innocently. Valere looked a little bit concerned, though she was calm as always. Zale had envied her ability to keep herself so controlled.
"Well! You see.. No one that's been to Wraith Island has EVER RETURNED!!"
Zale's stomach sank. Ever returned? And he, Valere, and the other Solstice Warriors were supposed to just.. go there like it was some routine trip to kill the Dweller? He shuddered softly, thinking of all the people who must have gone, seeking treasure, and never come back for one reason or another. He could guess why - and it wasn't that they were content enough not to come back.
"Why not?" Garl asked.
"Stories say the Dweller of Woe has mind-control powers." This time, it was Keenathan who spoke. "After setting foot on Wraith Island, people are cursed to remain there for the rest of their lives. And life on Wraith island is.."
He paused, his slight smile faltering. "..it's lived day by day. For no one knows who the Dweller will prey on next."
"Prey?"
Keenathan nodded to Garl. "Aye, every so often, the Dweller sings with her cursed voice, compelling one of the denizens of Wraith Island to sleepwalk into her lair, never to return..."
"Okay, that's.." Garl looked saddened. "But why would people even go there, then?"
"Curiosity? Boredom? A need to escape? Frankly, you'll get to ask soon enough." Yolande looked out at the sun, which was starting to set. Zale sighed. He held out his arms, soaking in the last of the warm sunlight. Valere giggled, seeing his dramatic pose as he kneeled on the raft. "You're acting like it's your very last sunset!"
"Well, forgive me for wanting to enjoy every bit of the stuff!" Zale laughed nervously. She was right - it very well could be.
"Zale's right! We aren't gonna be seeing the sun for a bit, so I think we should enjoy it."
"Ahoy, Captain!" Valtraid called out. "Seems the sun be setting!"
Klee'shae turned to Valtraid and nodded curtly, turning her attention back to the sea. The crew looked about as though searching for something.
"Oy." Yolande caught Zale's attention with a pat to the shoulder. "Don't ya blink now, or ye'll miss it."
Garl jumped as he saw a flash of light, staring in wonder at the green silhouette in the distance. "Woah!" The warrior cook grinned, pointing out at the horizon. "There! I see.. what is it?"
"Behold!" Keenathan beamed. "The legendary ghost ship that appears at dusk. The Vespertine!"
Zale stood in awe as the ship came in to view, surrounded by crackling green mist. The trio gasped as the ship vanished as quickly as it had appeared in a flash of green lightning and the mist dispersed out across the surface of the water. 
"Wow.." Zale looked over at Klee'shae, whose eyes were still fixed to the spot where the ghost ship had appeared.
"Quite the prize, innit?" Valtraid gave Keenathan, who was still magicking the wind into the sails, a hearty elbow. The sun set, fully now, and the full moon came into view, bathing them all in icy light.
"The Vespertine will be ours one day, or my name is not Keenathan!" The wind mage struck his trademark pose before resuming his magic, waving his arms as glittering magic flowed between his fingers, channeling the wind into gusts that blew against the sails. Zale's ears pricked at a soft chuckling sound. He turned to see Klee'shae watching the group. Her gaze softened when she saw Keenathan's and Valtraid's antics, though resumed her cold look when she observed Zale watching her. "Aye.." she murmured softly.
"All in due time, mateys." Yolande squinted at the approaching landmass shrouded in a thick cloak of what looked like clouds. "For now we're 'bout to hit the docks. Look alive, and brace yerselves!"
Next
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minijenn · 5 years ago
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And now, cause im bored, here's every chapter of Keys briefly summed up in just a few words each (possible spoilers ahead??)
Prologue: The Thirteen Keys: MoM fucks with his students, what else is new
Chapter 1: Remaining Recusant: Riku rescues his boyfriend through the power of Gay
Chapter 2: To Guard the Light: Bunch of boring lore but Sokai makes it worth it
Chapter 3: To Seek the Darkness: Organization shenanigans; Vanitas divorces his shitty, abusive not-dad
Chapter 4: Hero to Zero: Uhhhhh fuckin' Hercules or somethin idk
Chapter 5: Go the Distance: Rage Mode angst is Fun
Chapter 6: Wandering in the Dark: Riku gets a haircut in the Realm of Darkness and Sora really needs to stop lying to everyone
Chapter 7: Promising Beginnings: Kairi and Lea are forced to wear a "get along" shirt
Chapter 8: Lazy Afternoon Streets: Sora has an Identity Crisis part 1
Chapter 9: At Dusk: YA STUPID ORG XIII FUCKHEADS BEST LEAVE MY SON ALONE OR ELSE ILL THROW HANDS
Chapter 10: Sinister Whispers: ^^^ BASICALLY THAT AGAIN ONLY I MEAN IT THIS TIME
Chapter 11: You've Got a Friend in Me: Being a living toy has gotta create some sorta existential crisis, right?
Chapter 12: To Infinity and Beyond: JEN IS GONNA THROW HANDS WITH YOUNG XEHANORT I SWEAR TO GOD I AM
Chapter 13: Chase the Shadows: Detectives Mickey and Riku play a round of "Where's Terra?" And fail miserably
Chapter 14: Paradise Found: Fun with Balloons and Grumpy Geriatrics
Chapter 15: Adventure is Out There: Sora may or may not fall to his death from ridiculously high up in the air i dont fuckin know
Chapter 16: Unspoken, Unheard: Kairi writes Sora a bunch of letters cause she loves him so much but wont say it cause she shy ahah
Chapter 17: How Far I'll Go: MOANA AND SORA ARE MY NEW BROTP
Chapter 18: Know Who You Are: Vanitas gets yeeted by the Ocean cause he a naughty boyo
Chapter 19: The Streets of San Fransokyo: Sora doesnt understand how Technology works what else is new?
Chapter 20: Immortals: everything's all fun and games until Sora's dumbass self-sacrifical complex kicks in (again)
Chapter 21: Depths of Despair: LOOKS LIKE I GOTTA THROW HANDS WITH MALEFICENT NOW TOO
Chapter 22: Rise and Fall and Rise Again: Sora and Kairi hang out and DAMMIT JUST KISS ALREADY YOU DORKS
Chapter 23: The Lost Empire: Lingering Will pops in to say hi and also uhhhh whatever the fuck happens in Atlantis goes down idk
Chapter 24: Where the Dream Takes You: Sora may or may not have PTSD, boi should probs go see a therapist
Chapter 25: Drowning in Darkness: Aqua throws hands then proceeds to get Norted
Chapter 26: I See the Light: Basically KH3's take on Corona but things actually make sense this time
Chapter 27: What Once Was Mine: In which that bit from KH3 where Marluxia knocks Sora out actually leads to some legit payoff smh
Chapter 28: Firsthand Experience: Kairi and Lea take a trip to Disney World and yeet Vanitas (again) right the fuck outta there
Chapter 29: The World Es Mi Familia: Being an (unliving) skeleton also is bound to raise an existential crisis, right?
Chapter 30: Recuérdame: I cry while writing this chapter, both for my baby Xion and because Coco is just that damn tearjerking
Chapter 31: Destined Reunion: ALL THE POLY DESTINY TRIO FEELS
Chapter 32: Something There: At this point even Riku be lookin at Sora and Kairi and shouting "KISS ALREADY YOU ADORABLE DORKS"
Chapter 33: Tale as Old as Time: Sora commits an Actual Murder (am i kidding? Who knooooows)
Chapter 34: The Realm of Darkness: DARK AQUA CAN STEP ON MAH FACE IMO
Chapter 35: Rise to the Light: Great, now Aqua has PTSD too, thanks for nothin, Mickey
Chapter 36: Return to Depart: Sora has another Identity Crisis, part 2
Chapter 37: Broken Chains: Vanitas challenges Sora and Ven to a fight in the Denny's parking lot and fucking loses what else is new
Chapter 38: So This is Love: YES THEY FINALLY KISSED THOSE DORKS
Chapter 39: Almost There: Frogs and also like... Voodoo and so many BBS callbacks so damn many
Chapter 40: Dig a Little Deeper: Sora is too damn stubborn to admit he needs help what else is new
Chapter 41: Follow the Light: Wayfinder Family Reunion saves my life
Chapter 42: Solving Mysteries, Rewriting History: Sora and Goofy meet Donalds family (who then proceed to take the piss outta Donald cause this is Ducktales fam why wouldnt they)
Chapter 43: The Other Promise: Sora has yet another Identity Crisis, part 3
Chapter 44: Vector to the Heavens: Sora and Roxas drink their "Respect and Protect Xion" juice
Chapter 45: Another Arabian Night: Sora, Roxas, and Xion fuck around in a B-list Disney Direct to Video Sequel
Chapter 46: Out of Thin Air: GONNA THROW HANDS WITH XEHANORT HIMSELF THIS TIME AROUND GET AWAY FROM MY SON YA OLD FUCKHEAD
Chapter 47: Alone on the Run: Sora has a Bad Time, Riku and Kairi also have a Bad Time, generally everyone has a Bad Time
Chapter 48: Trust No One: Ven and Roxas add onto the never ending Twin Pile that apparently exists in Gravity Falls
Chapter 49: Not What He Seems: I KNOW ITS NOT UF BUT LOOKS LIKE I GOTTA THROW HANDS WITH BILL CIPHER ANYWAY SOMEHOW
Chapter 50: A Heart Torn Between: Vanitas learns that Girls exist while Sora continues to have a Very Bad Time
Chapter 51: Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride: Riku's goin on a twink hunt, and dont think he dont know how to weeeeed em out
Chapter 52: Aloha 'Oe: Sora and Riku get into a bit of a lover's spat dont worry about it its nothin serious dont worry about it
Chapter 53: Treasured Memories: Namine is the Very First Person Ever to tell Vanitas he has emotional issues, its about damn time
Chapter 54: Let It Go: KAIRI'S FUCKIN PISSED SHE GONNA BRING HER DAMN DUMBASS WAYWARD BOYFRIEND HOME ALREADY DAMN also Sora hangs out with Elsa i guess
Chapter 55: Love Will Thaw: KAIRI KICKS EVERYONES ASSES INCLUDING SORA'S CAUSE LIKE I SAID SHES FUCKIN PISSED
Chapter 56: Back Into the Fold: Sora doesnt have an Identity Crisis anymore but he sure as hell has Anxiety now, part 4
Chapter 57: Farewell to the Wood: Absolute tone whiplash, brought to you by Winnie the Pooh and Sora's ongoing Existential Crisis too
Chapter 58: Link to All: Everyone just cries a lot for an entire chapter cause they all know they boutta fuckin dieeeee
Chapter 59: Face My Fears: I systematically rip every single one of our protagonists hearts out and stomp on each of them with no remorse whatsoever
Chapter 60: Fragments of Light: The B-Squad saves the day
Chapter 61: The Thirteenth Vessel: Sora hangs out with his New Fam, otherwise known as Organization XIII, family fun ensues and it totally isnt a massive angstfest i dont know what you mean
Chapter 62: Key to the Heart: Riku and Kairi throw hands with their boyfriend while also trying to save their boyfriend it makes sense if ya dont think about it
Chapter 63: The Final World: Sora is McFuckin dead and chilling in heaven with a cute baby plushie cat (hey its not a spoiler if KH3 did it first)
Chapter 64: At Daybreak: "But Jen, if you hate KHX so much then why do you keep making so many references to it???" BECAUSE THATS WHY NOW SHUT UP
Chapter 65: The Keyblade War: Keyblade Fight Club, either you Die or you DIE
Chapter 66: Clash of Light and Darkness: Bunch of teenagers throw hands with some bald old fuckhead, but in the end nobody wins except me
Chapter 67: Kingdom Hearts: You know you're in for something fucking nuts when the chapter title is named after the entire series
Chapter 68: The King and the Crown: Jen pulls off a plot twist so mind blowingly ridiculous that it would probably make Tetsuya Nomura blush
Chapter 69: Reconnect: Everyone has a happy ending except no not really i lied
Chapter 70: Don't Think Twice: Oops I Lied again :)
Epilogue: Dearly Beloved: Fuck KH3's ending this is my new canon now
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syrma-sensei · 3 years ago
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→ Silhouette
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art by: spaceboykenny
edit by: @mseruri
pairing: Reiner Braun x fem!reader
setting: canonverse.
rating: explicit; smut.
warning: spoilers for the last chapter of the manga.
word count: 4.6k
→ attack on titan masterlist | ao3 | wattpad
It was a festive time when a war came to an end, and despite being an internment zone on Marleyan lands, Liberio City was no exception.
It'd been days since the heroes came home, and you could not be any happier. This evening you and your family would welcome one of the Warriors at dinner; Vice Chief Reiner Braun.
While you and your mother prepared the dinning table with freshly-cleaned tablecloth, and laid neat platters and utensils, you heard the door knock. Your heart paced with excitement as you rushed towards the door, but you found your older brother beat you to it.
“Easy, sweet sister,” He jeered at you, “I'm sure he isn't into knock and run, is he?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Open it already, Pocco, I haven't seen him in four years!”
“Hah?! Call me that again and I'll make sure to crunch you with my titan's teeth,”
You rolled your eyes again, but he opened the door nonetheless. Heart dropped to toes as you saw a fully-grown up Reiner before you, spruced up with his military uniform, your heart skipped. He wasn't a boy anymore; he was much taller now, with manly stubble, and the same pale blond hair. He was a man, a handsome and eye-catching one indeed.
Reiner smiled tenderly at you after being greeted by his pal.
“Hey baby,” He whispered into your ear as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. But you were too eager. Arms wrapped around his powerful neck, you crushed his lips with yours. Being taken by surprise, Reiner didn't kiss you back instantly. However, the amatory your lips and body emitted, made his arm encircle your waist, pulling you deeper into his hold.
It was heated and full of passion, and you two nearly forgot you were at your very home. But your brother reminded you, clearing his throat, exasperation visible in his voice.
“For Ymir's sake, get a hold of yourself, Braun!” Porco grumbled, “Kissing a girl like this in front her brother!”
Your lover's cheeks were flushed when he pulled away from the kiss, “I-I apologize I didn't mean to—”
“Oh, are those for me?!” You interrupted him, pointing at the flower bouquet in his large hand. You didn't want Porco's sharp tongue to frustrate Reiner's resolve, not after he was really here. It took you an eternity to convince the latter to accept your parents' invitation. He didn't want to come over because he was still feeling guilty about Marcel, he told you he didn't have an eye to face your parents. How could he, and he was the reason of their son's unexpected death?
He gazed back at you, his eyes getting softer, “Yes,”
“They're beautiful,” You sighed as you took a whiff, “And smell good,”
“Glad you like them,”
“And this?” You jutted your chin towards the chocolate box he brought.
“Um, I thought it isn't appropriate for me coming here empty-handed, is it?”
You said with a smile, “Mother is gonna love it, make sure to give it to her yourself,”
“Yeah, sure,”
“Oh, I see Mr. Braun is already here,” Your father walked in, stretching his hand to Reiner, “Pleased to see you again, son,”
“Likewise, Mr. Galliard,” Reiner shook his hand firmly, “Thank you for inviting me to your house, I'm deeply honored,”
“Ah, don't mention it,” The old man shook his hand nonchalantly, “Do come in, my wife's waiting for us in the dinning room,”
Mr. Galliard ushered Reiner insider while you stood beside Porco, holding the flower close to your chest.
“Wow, didn't take Reiner for a flower and chocolate guy,” He remarked once the latter disappeared inside with your father.
“He's a charmer,”
“Pretty lame if you asked me,”
You squinted your eyes at your nasty brother, “Ya know, there's something much lamer,” Then raised your brow smugly, “Blushing for being called Pocco by someone who shifts into an ugly titan,”
“Hey, shut this crappy mouth of yours,” A visible, flustered blush crossed his face, “Pieck never calls me that,”
“I never said it was, Ms. Finger,” You wriggled your eyebrows teasingly.
“I'm definitely gonna kill ya this time,”
“Porco! (Y/N)!” Your mother's voice chimed, “Come here already, dinner's all set!”
“Comin'!” You responded, sticking your tongue out at Porco, whom chuckled in return.
You stepped inside the dinning room and found your father sitting at the head of the table, and Reiner was on his adjacent right, talking to each other. You smiled at the scene.
Mrs. Galliard took the flowers from you and put them in a water vase.
“Oh, Reiner, how sweet of you, flowers for (Y/N) too? You shouldn't have,” Your mother remarked sweetly.
“Oh, it's really nothing, (Y/N) deserves much more than that,”
You slightly blushed at his comment, but the sweet moment broke when you accidentally glimpsed at your brother who faked a gag. You shot him a glare.
Once settled at the table, sitting next to Reiner, you all recited prayers together, smiling forlornly at Marcel's vacant chair.
Suddenly, you heard your mother choking up her tears, pressing on yours and your brother's hands gently.
However, you weren't the only one who saw her silent tears.
“I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Galliard,” You heard Reiner say, dragging everyone's attention to him, “I'm so sorry,” He bowed his head, but you squeezed his hand for assurance.
He gazed at you, tired eyes full of regrets, his chair creaking when he let your hand and stood up.
“I shouldn't be here,” He mumbled, “I-I don't get to be here,”
Your eyes widened, “Reiner—”
“Sit down,” Your father's voice cut in, “Sit down, son. It's not anybody's fault. It was Marcel's decision, and leaving his family's table now all of the sudden is an offence to him,”
“Mr. Galliard, I—”
“Haven't you heard me, boy?” Your father's tone left no room for negotiation.
Reiner looked at you again. You were smiling at him, head nodding in encouragement to listen to your father's word, eyes shimmering with beseech.
“I'm sorry,” He whispered again, “I'm truly sorry,”
You sighed in relief when he finally sat down again, his leg twitching in agitation, but your father reassured him, “I never held a grudge against you, son, neither did my wife,” Reiner gazed at your mother whom nodded at him with teary eyes, “How could we resent the man our son gave his life to? You are precious to us.”
Your heart swooned at your father's words, at the slight shudder in his voice, at the threatening tears within his eyes. He saw Reiner as his own son, after all what happened, he didn't change his view of him. It was amazing in itself, and it touched you deeply, hoping that, at least, by hearing that, Reiner wouldn't feel unwanted within your family.
“Shame,” Porco interjected, “If Marcel were to hear you whining like a bitch, he'd certainly regret it,”
“Porco!” You scolded.
“No, it's alright, (Y/N),” Reiner said, large hand on your small one, “He's telling the truth,” Then for the first time, Reiner chuckled.
You smiked, while your parents chortled briefly.
You already knew Porco had come with the terms of Marcel's death, and his taking on Reiner was out of the old rivalry when they were still warrior candidates.
Porco's stomach gurgled, “By the Gods, I'm starving! See? That what one gets when smelling delicious food with empty stomach while hearing you crying like a weeping baby,”
All of you broke into a laughter before digging into supper.
Your mother had grilled fish with a secret family recipe, and made a salad bowel as the main meal, with some fried appetizers and soup, and picked up a special bottle of wine as a beverage.
Whenever Reiner's plate became empty, she filled it again with another course even though the latter declined politely. She was persistent, stating that he looked paler than the usual. He acquiesced nonetheless, sighing in defeat, making you giggle.
A boring conversation of the war with The Mid-East was brought up by your father in the middle of supper, drawing Reiner's attention away from you. The men spoke about the world's situation after the war that concluded with Marley's victory, and about the possible one which to be declared soon upon Paradis Island.
Politics never piqued your interest, you found it stupid and all about hypocrisy, and you never was consent with the both of your brothers being Warriors for Marley's army. It cost your brother's life after all. Marcel died for a stupid cause, and Reiner was going to have to give up his Armour Titan for another candidate eventually. You hated it; it took a dear person away from you, and sooner or later, it would take your lover's and other brother's lives. The thought made you boil in anger.
Two years. Two fucking years and Reiner would be gone from this world, and you'd not be able to see him again for good. You'd been waiting for him for so much now, and you weren't ready to let him focuse on anything but you. You were selfish, you knew it, but you could care less about it.
Dinner was almost done; your father excused himself to go to the bathroom, and your mother started to clean the table.
You were on the final bites of your fish as one of your hands snuck, perching lightly on Reiner's thigh.
The latter jumped a bit at the connection with your hand.
“Oi, you okay, Reiner?” Porco asked, who was sitting at your father's chair's adjacent left, ranting about the last battle's events.
Reiner glanced at you, chiding you with his eyes, before answering his friend, “Yeah, everything's fine,”
You giggled inwardly.
Porco continued what he was on, “Where was I? Yeah, when I saved your armoured ass at Fort Salva,”
“U-Uh, yeah...” You noticed Reiner's reddened up ears, as your hands caressed up his thigh, dangerously up.
Reiner cleared his throat as a warning but you decided to ignore it. Porco picked up on your shameless behaviour, and smirked.
Your lover grabbed a glass of water, perhaps it was getting too hot for him here.
“Ya know, Reiner?” Porco said, surging towards, putting his arms on the table. There was hint of mischief tinting his voice, “You're a lucky bastard, got stuck with three Galliard siblings, two of them ready to get eaten for you,”
Choked on the water in his throat, Reiner's eyes bulged out of their sockets as he wheezed at the lack of air.
You smacked his back tenderly as a string of water seeped from his nose. He covered his mouth with his hand as he coughed harshly.
“Damn it, Porco,” You glowered at your brother, “You can't keep this foul tongue of yours inside your mouth, can you?” You turned to Reiner again, “Here, let's go to the bathroom,”
You took your coughing boyfriend to the bathroom, then you handed him a towel when he finished.
“It's nice out there,” He said in his husky voice, “Wanna take a walk?”
You smiled, “Yeah, sure, it's quiet out there at this time of the evening,”
Shortly after that, Reiner shook hands with your father and brother, and bowed respectfully to your mother, thanking them for the lovely dinner, and inviting them to one at his, saying that his mother, Karina Braun, would be so happy to have them.
“She better come back in one piece, Braun,” You heard Porco holler behind the door when you two stepped outside, “You know that my titan's teeth can penetrate through your titan's armour,”
Reiner undid the first couple buttons of his coat, and unfastened his necktie a bit, releasing a brief sigh of relief when you finally were alone in the middle of a street.
“Sorry about him,” You let out a breath, “You know how of a bastard he can be sometimes,”
Reiner chuckled, “Believe me, I've seen worse,”
“Anyway,” You hugged his large arms with the both of yours while you kept on walking with no particular destination, “We're all alone now, and we can do anything we desire. Isn't that right, Mr. Vice Chief?”
You noticed his instant perplexity when you said that in a suggestive way, his conspicuous Adam apple rose and dropped as he gulped.
Frankly, it puzzled you. Shouldn't he be as craving as you were after all that time of distance?
“You have some, Reiner?” You asked vaguely, causing him gaze at you with furrowed brows.
“The shit you and Jaeger smoke,”
“I don't smoke cigarettes anymore, (Y/N),”
“Then you should get back to that habit, 'cuz you look sexy when you do,”
Reiner complied, lightening up a cigarette for you first then his.
You grabbed his hand in yours, then laced your fingers with his. A ghost of a weak smile slipped into your mouth, when you finally got a reaction from him. He held your hand as well. It warmed up your heart.
You took a drag of smoke before you said, “I missed you, Reiner,”
He inhaled deeply, before looking at you, regarding you with his hazel eyes. Your heart skipped for a moment.
He stopped abruptly “You have no idea how much I've missed you, (Y/N),” He exhaled, fragile shoulders slumping in defeat, cigarette already falling from his fingers, “You're the only thing that prevented me from pulling the trigger the other day,”
Your eyes dilated, cigarette finding its way beside his on the road, “Reiner...” You gasped, “What happened to you?”
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he continued, “I saw you... your smiling image when I put it inside my mouth, ready to end my life... I saw Marcel's furious eyes warning me... I-I...” He breathed in again, “You gave me hope, you gave a reason to keep going. I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I was going to, once again, break your heart because of my selfishness,”
His wavered voice, the hurt on his face, the hands on your shoulders, tugged your heartstrings, and tore them apart.
What kind of a fool you were?
Through your own tears, you gazed up at him, cupping his cheeks in your palms, and kissed him vigorously. Silent words being conveyed by your amorous lips. Pushing him backwards and slamming him against some house wall, you kept on devouring his lips ardently, untill he finally grabbed your hair and kissed you back, with same passion of yours... and perhaps even more.
He yanked you to him, caressed your cheek, sucking on your lips, tasting the toxic substance off of your mouth. You moaned. It'd been too long since he kissed you like this. When he returned from his mission on Paradis Island, you barely saw him; he was called for duty for the war, promising you he'd come back to you, and you waited.
Your core throbbed at the long-waited connection with him. Tongues wrestled against each other playfully, and throats grunting with longing.
He grasped your arse and held you up, so you could be at the same height as his, lips never leaving each other.
“Vice Chief Braun?” The two of you were interrupted by a familiar voice, Reiner let you down swiftly, then looked at the voice's source.
“Mrs. Davis!” Reiner gushed, embarrassment apparent in his voice, “Good evening! Nice to see you again,”
Mrs. Davis laughed when she had a good look at you, “And Ms. Galliard too! What a lovely coincidence, I was about to drop by and give you some nice freshly-baked bread, made by me of course,”
You chuckled nervously, “Oh, you really shouldn't have, auntie,”
“Oh, hush, I know how much you love my bakeries, and the little Ms. Braun,” She winked playfully, “Anyway, I was going to visit my parents now, and I'd really like someone watching my house while I'm away, and who's better than the Vice Chief and the Jaw Titan's little sister for the simple task, you know how excited the kids are these days about the new festival, they broke the kitchen's window the other day,”
“Uh, I don't think that's a good idea—”
“Oh, we'd love to, Mrs. Davis!” You shushed Reiner whom obviously didn't understand the lady's insinuation.
“Oh, lovely!” She patted your shoulders in a motherly way, before opening the door for you, “My husband has a late shift tonight, so do not worry about him,”
Once in, she slipped out of the door again, a basket full of bakeries hooked to her arm.
“Make yourselves at home, sweet darlings,”
Oh, we certainly shall, dear auntie, you thought with a devious smirk visiting your lips.
“What was that all about, (Y/N)? I—”
You jumped at him, kissing him more passionately this time. His eyes were half-lidded when you broke it.
You chuckled at his thickened voice, and let go of him. Walking towards the kitchen, where you could find your favourite thing, Mrs. Davis' bakeries.
You picked a piece of eclair and stuffed inside your mouth.
“Oi, (Y/N), this isn't appropriate, the lady's been already nice to us to let us inside her house, but this... no.”
You whined as you savoured the heavenly taste at your mouth, “Oh, c'mon, Reiner, she told us to make ourselves at home!”
You licked the sweet piece teasingly, making Reiner gulp at your salacious behaviour.
“(Y/N), we shouldn't—”
You kissed him again, not letting him finish his sentence, “Reiner, baby, you and I know you want me to stop eating that eclair like that and start with doing it with your dick, right?”
The slutry within your voice made him flinch.
“Hmh, you little devil, what should I do with you?”
Then you gladly grabbed his hand and dragged him to the guest room, slamming the door behind you. You'd been here to many times helping Mrs. Davis at house chores and things of the sort, so you knew her house well.
You felt his hand catching yours, drawing you roughly to him, swallowing your lips with his. His back landed on the bed now, with you on the top of him.
“Reiner...”
“I don't know if Porco told you this,” He breathed out, brushing your hair behind your ear, “What he saw in Ymir's memories, that I've completely lost my mind there,”
He cradled your cheek with big, warm hand, “I split into two, didn't recognize myself anymore,” His thumb brushed to your lower lip, “Whenever I lost my way back, a picture of you guided me back in...”
A fragile smile tugged at your lips, as you grazed them lightly to his thumb. Then a playful one took its place as you gazed at him intently, “No, but he told me you were head over heels with some beautiful chick called Krista,”
You didn't want him to get depressed again, you wanted to cheer up the atmosphere a bit.
Reiner blinked several times, before a fierce blush smeared his face, “W-What?! He told you that?!”
You giggled, “Hmm, worry not my dear warrior,” Lascivious hoarseness laced to your voice as your hands unbuckled his trousers, “Two or one, you shall not think of any woman but me after tonight...”
“(Y/N)...” He hissed as your hand pressed on his engorged cock.
“Hmm, could that Krista make you feel this good, Reiner?”
He grumbled desperately as your thumb flicked to the head, making him twitch in delight.
“N-No...”
“And no-one will ever do,” Your mouth was an inch away from his weeping cock, “but me,”
Reiner let out a shivering sigh when sleeved by your warm hole. He breathed in and out, while adjusting in.
“Oh, (Y/N)... oh...” His grumbles grew louder, heavier, while you worked up and down between his legs.
He fisted up your hair, grabbing the sheet beneath him as he felt his release close. He was desperate; during the war, he'd masturbated many times, picturing you taking him in your mouth, but that was nothing compared with being in the actual action; inside you.
He gasped, “I'm cumming,”
Reiner's eyes rolled backwards as his seed invaded your mouth, small drops leaking out the corner of your lips.
With half-closed eyes, Reiner looked down at you, as you licked his cum of off your lips. He swallowed at the scene.
“Reiner...” You groaned, lifting yourself up to his lap, pressing his chest down, and straddling him. “I love you.”
His face softened, “I love you too,”
“Reiner, I don't want you to leave anymore,” You ran fingers on his chest, undoing his upper clothes, “Can't we live your two years alone?”
His callous hands brushed your sides, before grabbing the hem of your blouse and slipping it up your head, unclapping your bra next.
“I'm afraid not,” He answered genuinely, “Another war is at our doors, (Y/N),”
“I want to live with your memory then,” You slanted downwards, kissing his face, after discarding your skirts and panties on the floor, then grazing your way down his chest, suckling on his hard nipples, “I don't want to love anybody but you,”
He sighed, “What do you mean?”
“Impregnate me,” Your tone was stern, as well as the look in your eyes, “I want a child of your blood, a child you are its father,”
His eyes teared up again, “Why would you want my bastard blood, to breed another one?”
Your heart cleaned at the words; you knew why he did all of this... why he ended up like that. He was a little boy who wanted to have a family, to feel accepted by his parents. You'd never forgive his bitch of a mother for using him for her own benefits, nor would forgive his father who shunned him off like trash, you wouldn't forgive your older brother either for using him to replace your other brother's position.
Perhaps they all had their reasons, but you had yours to harbour such feelings towards them; they all hurt your beloved one.
“Because I love you...”
You wiped his tears away, clasping his hands in yours, pressing them on your bare breasts, “Yes, touch me, Reiner, touch me and give me your seed, I want to live with a silhouette of yours,”
He whispered your name when you sheathed him leisurely, hissing low curses at the intimate connection with your warm and tight drawers.
“(Y/N), I don't want you to be with another after I die either,” Reiner mumbled, mouth cracked in pleasure as you rolled your hips against his, “I want to be the only one in your life,”
“Ah, Reiner, yes,” You gasped, pace picking up, fueled by desire and lust, “Yes, let's make our child, our love result, yes,”
He gripped your hips, quickening your motions on top of him. Skin slamming, sweat forming, sighs of love echoing.
Your walls hugged him, clenching him up in yearning; too much time had been neglected, but he refreshed it inside of you, giving it rebirth when his seed filled you up, and your insides sucked it up greedily into your womb.
You kissed one another again, and made a promise to make the silhouette real in your other lives...
>>> Years later...
You ran after your giggling three-years-old son whom refused to listen to you.
“Marcel! Come back here at once!” You demanded, exhaling in exasperation at his unruly behaviour.
“No,” Little Marcel said, “I wanna see daddy,”
You groaned in exhaustion, tossing your son's clothes aside, and ran after him towards the door.
“Daddy!” Little Marcel gushed, clenching and unclenching his tiny fists up so his dad could carry him.
“Come up here, my little warrior,” He lifted the toddler effortlessly into his large arms, “Where are your clothes? Giving Mama a hard time again, aren't we?”
Little Marcel giggled, muffling his giddy laughters into his father neck.
“Reiner,” You gasped, “You're early,”
With his other arm, he pulled you to him, giving your lips a light peck.
“Meanie,” He whispered into your ears before nibbling on it, “Is that how you welcome your husband after two months of absence?”
You guffawed at the childish face he wore.
It'd been four years since the battle which decided it all, since the curse unraveled. You were few weeks pregnant with your son Marcel at the time, when the Rumbling Titans eliminated eighty percent of the human population.
You were there when Reiner and the rest battled against Eren Jaeger on his colossal titan skeleton. When you saw his mother and Gabi turned into pure titans.
It was horrifying to say the least.
But when it came to an end, Reiner finally approached you and his mother, and told he was no longer the Armour Titan as the Curse of Ymir was finally omitted.
You wouldn't ever forget the face he'd made when he picked up on your fattened belly. How hot tears trickled down his face when he crouched on his knees crying like a little boy, hugging your stomach and kissing it. His mother was utterly shocked too.
And throughout the mist you could see your brothers' smiles, and their glares at Reiner, they were like: Hurt her again and we'll kill you in your sleep.
“I was told your journey was going to take seven months at least,” You said when parted from him, stepping inside your house.
Reiner was working as one of Eldia's peace ambassadors now, with the mission to convey the true history of the Eldian story, and their genuine intentions to maintain with the rest of the world.
Reiner, still holding Marcel in his arm, followed you inside the kitchen, “Yeah, but Her Majesty called it off, she requested our immediate return for some political reason. She's gonna discuss it with us tomorrow,”
He hugged you from behind, taking a whiff of what you were cooking, “Hmm, smells nice, hope you invited your parents for lunch,”
You spun around in his hold, taking Marcel from his arms, but the latter refused, “No, daddy,”
You sighed, “Yeah, I did, they're coming. Marcel, baby, just let me put some clothes on you, a diaper isn't gonna protect you from the cold,”
“No, daddy,” He said again, wrapping his small, chubby arms around Reiner's neck.
The latter chuckled, “Let me handle it, I'll do it for you,”
You smiled, “Yeah, sure, good luck with that,”
“Oh, Marcel isn't gonna make any trouble for daddy, right?”
“Yes, daddy!” The toddler sucked his lower lip inside his mouth, and gazed up at his father.
The dull look had finally vanished from Reiner's eyes, and they returned their vivid hazel colour. His chin and jaws were meticulously shaven, and he was still towering over you as ever.
You grinned at him, and he winked at you before making his way to Marcel's room.
“Um, Reiner,” You hauled him by your words.
“Yes, baby?”
“I was wondering how long are you gonna stay this time...” You murmured, a light blush crossing your face.
“I really don't know, maybe ten months or a year, winter isn't a good season to sail off, ya know,”
Your grin widened, “Perfect, then you're gonna be the first to hold your second son,”
Reiner blinked, “(Y-Y/N), are you...?”
You leapt on him and kissed him.
“Yes!”
Small drops of tears oozed from his eyes, “(Y/N)...” He hugged again, wringing the life out of you with his strong hold.
“I love you, (Y/N),” Reiner sniffled, “You really make me happy... thank you for everything.”
With that, you cupped your husband's face and pressed your lips against his. Ignoring, for once, your child's whining. Tears streaming down your cheeks too.
Your far-fetched, long-desired world, was no longer a silhouette any more.
359 notes · View notes
idy-ll-ique · 4 years ago
Text
All Mine.
Pairing: Andy Barber x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Warnings: age gap, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (damn)
Requested: nope
Summary: Andy Barber has been through a lot. After getting a divorce from his ex-wife, he moves into the house next to the Y/L/Ns. And he has his eyes on Y/N since day one. Little does he know, Y/N likes him too and things get interesting one night.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Before you ask, no, I haven't watched Defending Jacob yet because I do not have the attention span to watch an entire series. So yeah, this has no spoilers. Also, I'm asexual so don't @ me for the smut please and thank you. Enjoy!
---
"Good morning, Mr Barber!"
He looked up from his phone and saw his neighbor smiling at him. He grinned back at her, his mood immediately lightening. "Hi, Y/N! How many times have I told you, call me Andy," he chided gently, keeping his phone away. "Okay, okay, just feels a little weird, ya know? Anyway, what are you doing here? You almost never take the bus," Y/N chuckled.
He flashed her another grin, his boyish side automatically coming out. It always happened when she was near. Y/N Y/L/N was Andy Barber's cute neighbor, but the only thing is, she was way, way younger than he was, her parents were just a couple of years older than him. Despite the huge age-gap, Y/N had won his heart. And he didn't mind in the slightest.
"My car broke down yesterday, it's at the auto repair shop. I got no other vehicle," he shrugged. Y/N nodded just as she saw her bus approaching. "Are you getting on this one?" she asked him and he squinted. "Nah, not this one. Are you?" She verbally confirmed a yes and turned to look at him fully. "I'll see you later, Mr Barber, bye!" With that, she waved at him and stepped into the bus.
"Andy!" he mouthed when she sat near the window seat, giggling. "Andy," she repeated, winking at him just as the bus turned around the corner. A laugh involuntarily escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. Oh, what am I gonna do with you, angel? Inside the bus, Y/N had to keep herself from fidgeting, too overstimulated after her conversation with the handsome lawyer.
She had had a crush on him ever since he had moved in next-door. Her parents had immediately invited the lone man to dinner and he had, thankfully, accepted. They had a lot of fun; Andy was a proper gentleman, well-spoken, intelligent and extremely handsome. Y/N got a crush on him on the first day itself. She knew about the things his family had been through, and the thought crushed her.
Can't even imagine, your own child, guilty of murder?
Andy and his ex-wife, Laurie had divorced immediately after their son's trial. It was all months ago, though, Andy was doing much better now. He had Y/N, after all. In his thoughts only, but that would suffice. Because he knew, she'd never fall for him. Why would she? He was much older than her, a divorced man, with a son who got convicted for murder.
But Y/N didn't care about any of those things. She liked the Andy who was her awesome, good looking and smart neighbor. That's all that mattered to her. But then came another problem, Y/N's parents. Would they be okay with her going out with him? Of course not! Y/N sighed and leaned her head against the window of the bus; oh God, what ever was she gonna do?
Andy had ruined all men for her.
---
"Come in!"
Looking up, a surprised gasp left the mouths of both; the person inside the office and the person at the door. "Y/N?" Andy blurted out. "Mr Barber?" Y/N blinked as well. "Andy," he corrected incessantly and she waved her arm in dismissal. "Wow, I, uh… I didn't realize— you don't have a name plate outside—" He motioned to the chair in front of him and she sat.
"What happened, darling?"
Y/N unconsciously shivered at the nickname. She loved it when he called her that. "I don't know, my colleague sent me here, she was busy… gave me the address and said there was a file she needed…" Y/N spoke unsurely. Her eyes quickly skimmed over his figure; he had taken off the trenchcoat he was wearing in the morning, leaving him in a tight, white shirt, black trousers and a tie hanging loosely around his neck.
The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Y/N concluded that he looked insanely gorgeous. "Does your colleague happen to be Mrs Renoir? She told me she was coming to get the file." She smiled and nodded at him. "Yes, Mrs Renoir, that's her." Andy smiled back and took out a file from his drawer. "Here you go."
She accepted the file, stowing it away in her bag. "I'll see you!" She moved to get up but Andy tutted, checking his watch. "Why don't you stay, Y/N? It's getting late, we can go home together," he spoke, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. She froze for a moment. "Um, it's fine, I can—" He was shaking his head. "Y/N, if something happens to you, I'll not be able to forgive myself."
What's going on? "Mr Barber—" "Andy." "What do you mean?" He got up from his chair and moved to the couch that was in the room. She sat next to him. "You never stay out this late, Y/N, your parents told me you're usually at home by 8:30. It's almost midnight, and I can't let you venture into the city all alone at this hour. Do you know the dangers that lurk at night?"
Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest. Indeed, this was new to her; and before even meeting with him, she had been scared of roaming the city alone at night. "I don't," she muttered truthfully, looking up when Andy placed his hand on her thigh. "It's okay. You can stay, I just need to go over a few more things and then we can go home, hm?" Y/N grinned and nodded.
Andy lifted his hand off her thigh and went back to his desk. He began scribbling something on a paper, which Y/N realized was a form. After admiring him for a few minutes, she took out her phone and scrolled through her messages. She had already texted her mom about staying out late, and her mother had complained until Y/N told her she was out for business, not fun.
As time passed, Y/N's shoulders sagged. Her eyes drooped, heavy with sleep. "Andy," she whined in a sleepy stupor and his head shot up, "Are you done? I wanna go home!" His dark eyes softened instantly and he chuckled. She looked cute when she was sleepy. "Just a moment, darling, I'm almost finished." Y/N simply groaned and threw her head back against the couch.
"All done."
Y/N opened her eyes and saw Andy fixing his appearance, before shrugging on the coat. Then he turned to her, offering her his hand with a smile. She took it and heaved herself up, stumbling a little but Andy was there to hold her up. Effortlessly wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her out of his office, switching off the lights and locking the door.
Both of them walked out of the building and Andy got Y/N seated in the passenger seat of his car. "I thought your car was at the auto repair shop?" Y/N remembered. She felt his chuckle next to her ear as he reached over and fastened her seatbelt and then his own. "Went to get it in the afternoon because I realized buses aren't for me." She giggled and leaned back against the seat.
"Why don't you try and fall asleep? I'll wake you up," he whispered, his heart swelling in his chest when she nodded meekly. "Goodnight, Mr Barber." He still corrected her, "Andy." Truth be told, Y/N didn't want to call him Andy because that would only make her feelings worse. If she called him Mr Barber… that was a constant reminder that he was a man much older, a successful lawyer, and just her neighbor.
Nothing else.
"Such a sweet doll." Ever since he heard her whining his name in his office, his mind had clouded over with lust. She sounded so fucking beautiful when she said his name. And suddenly, all he wanted to do was to claim her on his couch. He had controlled himself easily, he knew he had to wait till he had her consent. Which he thought he'd probably never get.
---
"Thank you so much, Andy!"
"Oh, it's not a problem at all, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N is great company and I admit, the house does get a little lonely at times," Andy chuckled as Y/N's mother beamed at him. Y/N was looking down at her feet, clutching the handles of her travel bags. She was going to move in with Andy for a few weeks, since her room was getting renovated. There was no other place in the house.
When Andy heard that, he had instantly offered that she move in with him for the time-being. And Y/N's parents were, surprisingly, ecstatic at the idea. "She can move into the guest bedroom," he had spoken at the time. That's how she ended up here; now following Andy into his house as she yelled her goodbyes to her parents. "Welcome! It isn't much, I hope you like it still."
Y/N looked around in awe. The place was well-kept, the colour theme for almost everything was either beige or brown. It all looked very modern and cool. "Are you kidding? This is awesome!" He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Let me show you to your room." Both of them walked up the stairs and stopped at the first door. Andy opened the door and another gasp left her lips.
"Wow," she whispered automatically and Andy smiled to himself. "I take it that you like it," he drawled, closing the door behind them as they walked into the room. Y/N kept her luggage on the bed and sat down, swinging her legs. "Thanks for all this, Mr Barber, it's appreciated." He scoffed. "Andy," he rectified, "And it was not a problem at all, Y/N, you're my friend."
A chill ran down her spine. His friend? He considered her to be a friend? "A friend, huh, I'm… I'm honored," she chuckled and he grinned. "I'll leave you be now, get comfortable." He waved at her and left the room, going downstairs to get a glass of water for himself. Y/N spent the rest of the day at her place, only returning at nighttime after dinner.
That's how it went for a week. She'd be at her job most days, would have dinner with her parents at night and then would finally walk into Andy's house to get some sleep. She liked the routine, and so did he. When she wasn't at her job, she'd spend the day in the living room of her own, or rather, her parents' house. Only, something changed a week later.
Andy was running late that day. As he drove home, at nearly 1:30 am, he was sure that he was going to be greeted by a quiet and empty house, Y/N already asleep in her room. She always fell asleep before 11:30, he didn't know how she did it. After parking his car in his garage, he walked into the sitting room only to see Y/N sitting in front of the television. She looked up and swtiched it off when he walked in.
"Mr Barber, hi." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Darling, is everything okay?" he asked worriedly, sitting next to her. The dried tear stains on her cheeks made it clear that she had been crying. "I'm fine," she insisted, in vain. Andy gently cupped her cheeks, running his fingers over the stains. "You've been crying, honey, tell me what happened. I'll make it better," he whispered and Y/N melted against him.
"Um, can I… can I please… can I hug you?"
Without another word, Andy pulled her to him, her head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around her middle. She snuggled into his side. "I just had a bad dream," she mumbled, burying her face in his chest. His arm rose and he delicately cradled her head, massaging her hair with his fingers. Y/N whimpered at the soothing sensation and Andy's heart raced.
"I'm here now, sweetheart, you have nothing to be worried about. I'll protect you, come what may," he uttered softly, almost in a daze. Something inside Y/N stirred deeply when he said those words. She pulled away slightly and he looked down at her, a questioning look on his face. Y/N blushed under his intense stare. "I, um… can I… kiss you?" Her question made Andy's heart beat faster.
Consent? Check.
Gently grabbing her jaw, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, pulling her into his lap. Y/N kissed back just as fervently, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" Andy asked huskily upon pulling away. "How long?" Y/N squeaked. "Ever since I first saw you. You won my heart right there, Y/N, right at that dinner. The moment I saw you, I knew that you had ruined all women for me."
"Same. I mean, I— not women, obviously, I'm not attracted to other women— men, but—" Andy chuckled and kissed her again, cutting off her rambling. "God, I need to feel you, love, why don't we go upstairs?" It turned out to be a rhetorical question as he immediately stood up, easily carrying Y/N up the stairs. Y/N wrapped her legs around his torso.
He placed her down on his bed, in his bedroom and settled between her legs, hungrily kissing down her body. He used his tongue to stimulate her first, pulling orgasm after orgasm after her. She had never had these many orgasms in one night and that wasn't lost on Andy. "No one has ever made you feel this good, right, darling? Only I can do it this good." Y/N whined loudly when his tongue circled her bud.
"Bet those nasty boys your age have never made you feel this way. Worshipped. You're mine, Y/N, only mine. Say it." Y/N was too overwhelmed to respond, only a pathetic "yours" leaving her lips as she came again. For the… third? No, fourth time? She definitely lost count. "You're so fucking gorgeous," Andy moaned as he emerged from between her thighs, his jaw and chin covered in her juices.
He had eaten her out so well, like her a hungry man offered a meal after a long starvation. Like she was his last meal. Y/N blushed at the sight of him, covering her face with her hands. Andy easily shoved the hands aside, leaning in to kiss her. "All mine. Beautiful. Mine, only mine," he grunted possessively and Y/N gasped when she felt something poking her thigh. She looked down and saw him. He was giant.
"It's too big," she blurted out and Andy chuckled, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. "You'll be okay." Grabbing the base of his shaft, he slowly pushed inside of her, giving her time to adjust to his size. Y/N winced at the burn on her hips but when he bottomed out inside her, all the pain was replaced by pleasure. "Fuck, so fucking tight," Andy helplessly groaned, leaning forward and resting his forehead against her shoulder.
"Please, please move." Andy complied, thrusting into her at a slow pace at first but when he was certain she was able to handle it, he sped up. Y/N moaned right into his ear as he nibbled on her neck, leaving behind dark, red marks. Now everyone will know she's taken. The moan fueled his libido and he sped up more, growling deep in his chest.
Y/N's eyes flew open at the animalistic sound and she gripped his shoulders, trying to steady herself as she moved like a rag doll against him and his powerful thrusts. "Scream my name, darling, tell everyone who's making you feel so good. Tell everyone you belong to me and me only. You're mine, all mine. I'm never letting you go," he snarled as he neared his release. "Andy," Y/N screamed shamelessly.
"That's it, doll. Months, for months I've tried to get you to say my name. Is that why you've been avoiding it? Can't help but imagine being under me and moaning my name every time you heard it?" he groaned brusquely and Y/N jerked, her orgasm hitting her unexpectedly. "Yes," she whimpered at his previous comment but Andy couldn't speak. Holy shit, she just squirted all over my bed.
His taut abdomen, his shaft, his thighs and his bed were all drenched. Y/N was lying on the bed, her eyes closed, convulsing as she reeled in from the first-time experience. "Shit, baby, do you see this? You just squirted all over me," Andy laughed breathlessly, leaning over to press his lips to hers. Y/N cocked an eye open as a blush spread across her cheeks.
"I what?! Oh my God, I'm so sorry—"
Andy entered her core with one swift motion, shutting her up. "That was fucking hot, doll, do it again," he urged and resumed his fast pace. Y/N cried out tiredly, her eyes landing on the clock in the corner of the room. It's been an hour?! How much energy does this man have? "Andy, I'm—" He was already close to his release and when she took his name, he was done. He pulled out of her and spilled his seed all over her chest and face, groaning loudly.
Then he spit on his fingers and brought them to her bud, furiously rubbing until she squirted again, right on his face. "Oh my God," Andy groaned, licking up and swallowing all her juices. "Andy, I'm tired…" She couldn't even lift a finger, that's how spent she was.
Andy was a sight. All wet, from top to bottom, covered in her juices, he looked like he had just stepped out of a swimming pool. "Okay, baby girl, get some sleep. I'll take care of you." And he did, he gently cleaned her up as she dozed off, and carried her to her room. He then hopped into the shower for a quick wash, dried himself up, put on some boxers and went to Y/N's room as well.
The bed in his room was… well, let's just say it was done for. He was going to be throwing the mattress out the next day, he knew that. When he walked into her room, his heart melted at the sight of her deep asleep, still naked, curled up on her side. He shut the door behind him and walked towards the bed, easily sliding in next to her. He pulled the covers on top of them and pulled Y/N into his arms, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.
"I love you, angel. So sweet, only mine."
---
A/N: This is the first time I've posted smut and a non-marvel fic 😳 I know it's probably not that good but thanks for reading anyway! Leave a like if you enjoyed!
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pentowrite-wingstofly · 3 years ago
Text
@twinkofthedink I wrote something for you 😌
Starring the 420th legion and their favorite Padawan, Commander Emera Dystra (and yes yes Master Joya too)
I'm not sorry 😈
no context spoilers here
Word count: 1313 (oops got a bit carried away)
Warnings: just a lil smooch
Linebreak: O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O
I giggled as I stood outside the store next to an intimidating ARC trooper.
“Ya ready, Pun?” I chirped, double checking my short shopping list.
Pun grinned and mock-saluted. “Ready as I’ll ever be, commander! Ready to proceed on dangerous mission in uncharted territory.”
I rolled my eyes as I stepped into the air-conditioned building. “It’s just a grocery story, Pun. You’ve gotta go in one someday!”
Pun stared openly at a tired-looking young woman attempting to wrestle down three small children. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t know if civilian life is for me.”
I gave him a shove and pulled him onto the escalator. “Kids aren’t that bad. They’re little chaos gremlins, but they aren’t horrible.”
“I suppose you’re right, ad’ika.”
“Little one yourself,” I teased. “I’m older than you.”
Pun ruffled my hair. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Age is just a number. So,” he started to change the subject, “what’s on the shopping list?”
The little piece of flimsiplast flopped as I lifted it up. “Jogan, meiloorun, and shuura fruit,” I read. “And some superhero adhesive bandages for Smack. I think Paw wanted a tooka sticker for his helmet too.”
Pun snorted. “Of course that old fart did. Let’s go. We must humor him in his old age.”
I snorted as I led Pun farther into the story. “You’re the same age,” I sang. “Oh, look! There’s the fresh fruit section!” I patted my pockets as I checked the produce prices. “Hey! Where’s my wallet?”
My companion covered his mouth and giggled.
“Pun!” I accused.
“What?” Pun held up his hands placatingly. “I don’t have it. You might ask Paw, though…”
I swore.
“Language!” yelped Pun.
“One of his tookas took it! Dazzle SO stole it!”
Pun smirked. “Don’t worry, I brought some credits General Kellet gave me for our shopping trip.” He reached into the belt of his grays. “Ta-da!”
I inspected a few jogan fruits before placing them into my shopping basket. “Remind me to go pry my wallet from between Dazzle’s paws when we go back to the ship.”
“I will, I will.” Pun reached over me to squint at a meiloorun fruit. “This one look good?”
“Yeah, stick that in the basket,” I responded, hefting the fruit-filled basket. “I think this should be enough for this trip. Let’s go find those bandages.”
Pun chuckled and slapped me on the back. “Will do. Why in the galaxy does Smack need superhero bandages?”
“He doesn’t need them. It’s just all the medical supplies he gets are standard-issue and some of the troopers are whiny, so he gets them special bandages.”
“Heh. Think we can get away with princess bandages?” Pun reached for a small box.
I swatted his hand away. “Let’s not try it. Neither of us want to be punished with any of his medicine, do we?”
Pun nodded fervently. “Indeed not.”
“Okay.” I checked the bandages off my checklist. “Let’s grab Paw a sticker and head back.”
We combed through coloring books and children’s markers until we found a tooka sticker.
“Look! It’s perfect!” I held up the sticker to Pun, grinning at the orange-and-white striped little animal. “Why don’t we get this one?”
Pun nodded and put the sticker on top of our other items. “Mission accomplished, commander!” he said, giving me a hip bump and beaming.
I nodded and started walking toward the checkout line. I heard a loud, drawn-out gasp behind me and spun.
“Sir–” Pun squeaked. “Sir, look!”
In the direction the clone was pointing, I saw a small green plant festooned with white berries.
When I turned back to his face, Pun was sporting a wicked grin; a perfect match to my own.
“Can we get it?” He asked slyly.
“Oh, you bet!” I slipped him a few credits. “Buy it on a separate receipt,” I whispered loudly.
Pun winked and waltzed toward the display.
I schooled my face into barely contained mischief and paid for my items, meeting Pun at the front of the store.
“Covert mission accomplished?”
Pun nodded. “Covert mission accomplished.”
“Great. Time to lay the trap.”
Pun tucked the package under his arm to rub his hands together. “Oh, yes.”
O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O
“A little to the left,” Pun called, standing a few inches away from being directly under the mistletoe.
I obligingly shifted the hovering plant. “How’s that?”
“That’s good, I think!” Pun tore off a piece of tape and watched as I levitated it up to secure the sprig of leaves and berries to the ceiling. “Is this responsible use of the Force?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I said, before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Let me go get Master Joya.” I gave the mistletoe one more little Force push to stick it to the ceiling, then ran off to find my Master.
A few halls and a turbolift ride later, I found her doing paperwork or something. “Hey Master!” I exclaimed cheerfully.
“Hello Padawan.” Master Joya looked up from her datapad and smiled. “Do you need anything?”
“Yeah, I need to show you something.” I fought to maintain a straight face. Though I knew my Master could sense my amusement, she didn’t say anything. “Oh, and by the way, where’s Cookie?”
Master Joya raised an eyebrow at my attempt for casualness. “I’m not sure.”
I smiled brightly. “That’s okay. Let’s go.” I grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her toward the turbolift. “You’re going to love this!” I tapped my wrist comm quickly. “Captain Cook? Cookie? Cookieeeee.”
“Yes, Commander?” came my long-suffering captain’s voice
Could you come to mess hall three for me? I need to show you something”
“Yes, sir.” Cookie replied. “I’ll be there right away.”
“Cool beans.”
Master Joya stared at me. “Wha–”
I dragged her down a few more halls. “You gotta check this out!” And with a flourish, I waved my hand and opened the door to the mess hall.
My Master stared at the haphazardly placed signs on one of the tables.
D i s t r a c t i o n
“I– what…?”
The captain approached from the other side of the room. I hopped to the side as Master Joya went to meet him.
“General?” he asked politely.
“Captain?”
Pun popped out from under the distraction table. “Hallooooo,” he warbled.
“What is going on here?” demanded Cookie.
I smirked. “What’s going on here, my good Captain,” I drawled, “is that you and General Kellet are standing under the mistletoe.”
Cookie and Joya looked up at the same time. The innocent little plant hung above them, promising much amusement in the near future.
“What– is mistletoe?” asked Cookie, apparently bewildered.
Joya swallowed uncomfortably. “It’s a Life Day tradition. The plant is generally hung on the ceiling or in doorways.”
“So why are we under it?”
I collapsed into Pun in a fit of silent giggles. My Master gave me a look before speaking.
“The tradition is… when two people stand under the mistletoe…” her face turned crimson. “They have to kiss.”
“So go on,” Pun encouraged. “Kiss. Then you can leave.”
A blush dusted Cookie’s cheeks. “Do we have to?”
“Yes!” I cackled.
Our two victims looked at each other uncertainly.
“No,” they decided simultaneously.
“Ah, but you see,” I told them, “no is not an option. It would be so tragic to deprive our poor, sad legion of Life Day traditions!”
Pun blithely ignored Captain Cookie’s stink eye. “Go on, smoochy smoochy.”
“Fine,” Joya snapped, no real resentment in her voice. She leaned up, standing on her toes, to give Cookie a kiss on the cheek. At the last moment, he turned his head slightly, causing the Jedi to kiss the corner of his mouth.
My Master blushed again. “I– I– therehappyLifeDaybye!” She bolted.
A very slow, rather self-satisfied grin spread over Cookie’s face.
I smirked at Pun and quietly hip bumped him. “Mission accomplished.”
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darkhymns-fic · 3 years ago
Text
D3ATH 0F A $SALESMAN$ [[RE: 1997 edition]] (Ch.1)
"here's a joke for ya. two salesman walk into a bar. except it's not a bar, it's a shady car dealership. except it's not that either. in fact, i have no idea where we are." Sans faced the tiny puppet man, held up by so many strings. "care to fill me in, buddy?"
A story on how two smiling salesmen should have never met.
Fandom: Deltarune Characters: Sans, Spamton, Toriel, Susie, W.D. Gaster Rating: G Chapters: 1/?? Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Warning for heavy Deltarune spoilers in this fic, for both routes. This is also a WIP with additional chapters forthcoming. I mainly wanted to write about my two favorite characters and this is what came out of it.  Next Chapter
--
Sans' phone was acting up lately.
Few things from it could catch his attention for long except for a funny dog video or two, but as he peeked at it from his pocket, he couldn’t help noting a pattern.
Huh. Those emails again…
“Hello? Hello mister? I can’t reach the shopping baskets, I have no arms.”
“oh hey.” Sans blinked away from the union-regulated break to turn back towards the checkout counter (his own union actually, since he was the only worker in this store. Also, there was no union). “just stack what you need on your head. problem solved.”
The monster kid before him was definitely bereft of any arms, but they luckily had a head, all things considered. Now if they were both a headless and armless monster, then he’d have a real predicament on his hands. Phew, dodged that bullet.
The kid was awkwardly standing before him, squinting their eyes up at Sans, which was a bit unusual since most monsters and humans were taller than him. And most kids. A lot of kids actually. Not this one though.
But then again, no one was taller than the tower of shopping baskets off in the corner. Every time Sans looked there, he felt a tear coming to his eye. Except he was a skeleton so he couldn’t really do that.
“But I need to buy some milk and eggs! And a whole lot of car magazines…” The kid was hopping up and down, trying to reach their face past the counter just enough. “I can’t carry all that on my head!”
His phone vibrated again. His eyes shifted, but he always made sure to keep on his smile for the customer. Union rules and all.
“here, kid. lemme show you a professional’s trick to stacking, very behind-the-scenes so to speak. ya ready?”
After the armless monster kid was able to balance a dozen egg cartons plus one gallon of fat-free milk out the door, Sans took his regulated 8th break for the day, leaning back while still standing since, of course, chairs were not allowed on the job (again, union rules) and checked his phone.
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(3) messages from hot recently-divorced moms in your area
HURRY, GET YOUR FREE [[DEAL]] [[[OR ELSE]]]]
Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary at all. Sans always got spam emails, and he never activated the spam filter because he got a lot of comedy gold from those subject lines. Made for good bedtime reading too.
Except, well, it was kinda weird to get them today.
“No wi-fi… No wi-fi… Anywhere…”
Sans looked up to find a weird-looking monster huddling by the magazine stacks, holding up his phone with a long, gangly arm. He was waving it around the air like it was a net, reaching to catch those coveted, invisible waves of information.
Terry? Was that Terry? That guy’s never-needing-to-go-to-the-bathroom skills could put his own to shame.
Except that wasn’t Terry.
“No wi-fi… The wi-fi here sucks…”
Sans shrugged. He couldn’t deny it. The wi-fi indeed sucked here. It sucked everywhere. Because it was nonexistent.
The entire town hadn’t had any internet service for quite a few weeks now, which again, was why things were weird.
His phone lit up once more with another email. He peered back at it, smile frozen on his skull.
HEY THERE [[BIG SHOT]]. WANNA MAKE A DEAL?!
Really weird.
--
The bunker had a few dents in its doors.
Sans usually misses out on just who’s been doing it, but mostly because he doesn’t feel like checking it out. Today though, things were just off enough for him to close his store early, and with good ol’ Terry inside. He’d watch over the wares for his buddy, Sans.
The doors were still pretty beat up, coupled with a few scratches on it – but very firmly shut. Red doors, covered with clinging vines and ivy, underneath a grassy mound as if the earth had been in the middle of swallowing it up before stopping at the last second.
Oh, and there was a purple-shaped monster right in the middle.
“Open up! Why! Won’t! You! Open!”
“hey champ.” Sans leaned against that same grassy mound. Was really comfy, way comfier than leaning against metal doors. Just something that he knew by experience. “you doing good?”
The girl turned around, and what he saw was a lot of teeth.
Sharp, bared teeth, hair covering most of her face, but making sure to keep at least one eye looking through, to give it that extra chilling effect. Coupled with her towering form, slightly hunched, and barely perceived breathing that was like the heave of an ancient creature – someone might say he was big for a teenager, but monsters didn’t really follow the laws of human physics, since they weren’t human.
A voice rumbled out from her throat. “The hell are you sneaking up on me for?”
She was pretty good. Sans could appreciate her talent.
“just thinking that this…thing you’re doing right now….” He eyed the dented doors, the handles that looked very much like they’d been gnawed on, with bite marks still clearly seen through the metal. “seems pretty sus, eh susie?”
Ba dum tsh! Heh. He still got it.
The confused pause happened, as expected. She raised her head, and her demonic flare that she’d been putting on was…not gone, but definitely muted. “What was that?” she hissed. Yeah, only pros could keep up that kinda thing for long. In the end, talent lost out to practice. She was trying though. “Hey. How’d a creep like you know my name?”
“i know everyone.” Sans shrugged. “by the way, im sans. sans the skeleton. and biting this stuff can’t be good for your teeth.”
That, and he’d see her plenty of times in his store. Most of the time she’d be off in the magazine section, leafing through the glossy pages of ‘MONSTER TRUCK RALLY’, which sold just slightly more over ‘HUMAN TRUCK RALLY’, usually because human trucks were a bit on the small side in comparison. She read those magazines so much like his store was the librarbry, but he appreciated the company during the slow hours.
At the mention of teeth, she grinned, fangs a lurid yellow, points so sharp that they’d probably ground most things into dust – well, unless they were a sort of mysterious metal that was in a shady corner of town.
“You wanna see just how good my teeth can be?” she asked him, going back to her creepy vibe. Kid could really go to the big leagues if she really wanted to.
“nah, already got my pearly whites. but i can give you a few brushing tips i’ve picked up on.” Hands dug deep into his jacket pockets, his skull laying nice and cozy on the grass slope. “just remember, it’s all in your head when it comes down to it.”
From the momentary pause, to the tiny flicker in her glowing eye, he could tell she didn’t get the joke. Fair. He knew he’d have a tough audience the moment he’d come here. But that was how it always was in his line of work…. which was cashiering, obviously.
“Even for an adult, you’re way freaking lame.” She grinned again, showing off her fangs that she must have personally filed herself. Maybe she did have good monster dental hygiene after all. “Do you want me to bite your face off that badly?”
She punched a fist against the red doors once more, the sound ringing so hollow in the air. Birds flew from the trees at the sound, and it even made Sans’ teeth rattle from the vibrations of her punch against the metal. If one listened even more closely, they could hear the waves of such a hollow ring go further away, further, and much further into the earth than should have even been possible…
He shrugged. “i don’t have one.”
She stuttered, blinking. Her messy hair got even more mussed up. “Uh. Wha.”
“a face.” Sans waved a gloved hand over his skull. “don’t got one. just all bones.”
Another slow blink.
“cuz you know. i’m a skeleton.”
The wind blew through her hair, revealing her eyes that were more tired out from playing video games all night then being all bloodthirsty and vicious a second ago.
“we don’t have skin, so, technically no face-”
“YOU KNOW WHAT I FREAKING MEAN, YOU WEIRDO!”
Her roar would have been eardrum shattering if he had any. But he was always lacking instead of having. He was used to it really.
“just sayin.” Another shrug, complete with a wink. “gotta get your skeleton facts straight. no bones about it.”
“Who cares about bones?!” She clenched her fists, grinded her teeth. She was really trying her best here. “I’ll crack your bony skull open then!”
“can’t.” He shrugged again.
“What. WHY?!”
“we’re monsters. don’t got no bones like the humans do, only magic.” He winked. “ya need to learn more about your culture.”
He had never seen purple turn into quite that fire-y shade before.
“The hell… is your problem…?”
“nothing. i just like being annoying.”
“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT!”
“whoa. starting to sound like my brother there. ya friends with him?”
“Why would I-?! Agh, screw this! I’m done with this place anyway!” Susie huffed, turning around only to find Sans leaning against the grassy mound again, just on the opposite side.
She flinched, standing on one leg, arms flailing just a bit, eyes wide. “What the HELL?”
“look, kid. i only came here to see what was up, is all.” He finally decided to stand, though not doing so at a hundred percent power. So he was still a little slouchy, a little sleepy. He was missing his regulated 20th break of the day. The union wasn’t going to be happy. “felt some bad vibes coming from here.”
The girl was not looking very happy right now in her oversized army jacket and her torn up trousers, (the tears most likely being self-made). She glared down at the funny bone man, but much of her previous bravado was gone, leaving her bereft of anything even remotely scary about her anymore. “I’m… I’m not doing anything wrong here! I just wanted to see what was inside this stupid thing.” She huffed, which sounded more like a snort, really. Sans was pretty sure that hadn’t been intentional. “No other kids come here or anything, so it’s not like I’m scaring anyone again.”
Sans shook his head. “nah nah. i didn’t mean you, you know.”
He did have a really bad habit of not being clear, so seeing Susie’s eyes twitch in frustration was not exactly surprising. “You just-! You just said about there being bad vibes and I was saying how I wasn’t-!”
“not from you,” he clarified. “you’re a good kid. you got…halloween vibes. like, you’re spooky. and you could pull off a box costume like nobody’s business.”
The confusion was mixed in with a bit of flattery there, if he could read the shade of purple on her face just right. “Then…what exactly are you talking about?”
He jutted a gloved thumb to the double doors, the red on it faded, like rust, like dried remnants of things that monsters were not made of. The gentle rumbling in the earth, the sound of something akin to refuse, to things that should be buried away and forgotten, like machinery that refused to just power down and stay still.
“bad vibes,” he simply said. “not a place for kids. so.” He put his hand back in his pocket, leaned back in his slippers that needed a good washing about three weeks ago. “gonna have to ask you to vamoose outta here. ya know. for your health.”
Easy as that. Susie just stared at him, which was nothing new. If people are staring, that just means you have an audience.
“Okay, I should leave then. Is that what you’re saying?”
He nodded. “yea.”
“…I was just about to do that, dumbass.” Susie growled. “And then you stopped me!”
“oh right.” Sans shrugged. “my mistake. but ya get me, right?”
“Ugh, I get ya enough! Whatever. This place sucks anyway.” She then pressed a hand to her jaw, lips pressed firm. “And those stupid doors hurt my teeth.”
Sans sympathized with the kid. “told ya. bad vibes.”
“Yeah yeah…” She sighed, still glaring at Sans like the weirdo that he knew he was. “Maybe don’t spy on kids though, freak.”
“i’ll put that in the pile, don’t worry,” he said, very much not taking that complaint to heart. “as a professional kid-spy though, aren’t you late for something?”
“What do you-” And just on cue, a certain school bell rang throughout the town, even reaching as far as this off-the-road corner of the town, where mean girls and tubby skeletons liked to hang out at. “Ugh. Not again!!”
“try not to rampage through a few buildings in your way.” And though he saw the look of unbridled annoyance at him as she turned, just about to dash out of there, Sans had an idea. “hey kid. one sec.”
“What is it NOW?” Susie lunged at him, stopping short from gripping his skull with her ginormous hands. “Why do you keep telling me to leave and then not actually let me leave?!”
“don’t worry, just a few things i gotta tell ya. first, try not to come back here. least not without a friend. good friends can be relied on, ya know?”
“Grr… well, don’t worry that won’t happen. So I won’t be back.” She lost some of her ferocity then, hair falling over her face more. Teen angst was always tough to handle.
“second… how about a pick-me-up?” He winked. “i can cut ya a deal.”
At that, Susie picked up her head. “Huh? Are you… one of those kind of guys…”
He held up his hand, signifying her to quiet down. “gotta keep it on the downlow. get me?”
Sans knew then that this kid had been watching plenty of films to get at what he meant. Or thought she got at what he meant. The difference didn’t really matter.
“here, kid. on the house. just don’t tell anyone where you got this.”
He gestured for her to hold out her hand, and even though she hesitated, she was curious. Obvious in the way her eyes lit up (non-menacingly this time), and how her tail was wagging. But of course he wasn’t going to mention that.
So when she did, great purple dinosaur hand outstretched, white claws atop each finger that were probably as sharp as fluffy marshmallows, Sans pulled out something from his pocket.
He kept his gloved hand curled up, even as he gave it to her. He then sealed the deal with a wink. “don’t spend it all in one place.”
And with that, he was outta there, just able to see Susie’s eyes sparkle with both want and a little confusion.
Sans really hoped Alphys wasn’t missing that chalk anytime soon.
--
The spam emails kept running through, even in the later hours of the day.
Sans’ email storage didn’t have a limit. And, on further deliberation, maybe that had been a mistake.
It was getting to the point where he couldn’t even open up his emails actually. The little bone-and-skulls icon kept loading and rattling on the screen. (It was a skeleton email app. Very hip with skeleton monsters. And a few humans who were way too into that kind of thing.) A shame. He was looking forward to what unintelligible garbage he’d received next.
At the very least, he got those sweet, sweet subject lines, hovering on his lock screen. Lines like ‘Hurry! Get Your Free Doggo Today!’ and ‘FW: I got a surprise for you…!! [[DON’T HANG UP]]’ and of course the classic, 3OLBS?!?! IN JUST3 WEEKS? [[ENDS TONIGHT]] Y0U F0RGOT AB0UT ME???
Whoever was writing these, they had a knack for this stuff.
A gentle ding caught his attention, already telling him who it was. There was only one person who did that, letting the soft tone of the desk bell play out its tune fully. Everyone else just mashed their hands on the bell constantly, which he also liked. He didn’t pick favorites…usually.
It was different with the old lady.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t disturb you from your break, did I?”
“’fraid you might have,” he said, turning around and facing his most favorite customer, his static grin just stretching a tiny bit wider. “gonna have to report ya to the authorities.”
Toriel was wearing her reading glasses today. She wore them almost all the time lately, probably forgetting she had them on in the first place. But he liked the way they framed her face, how they reflected her charm in all the right ways. On her arm, she carried one of the shopping baskets, and always he had to marvel at that, seeing the dreaded tower of stacked baskets that by now had reached the very ceiling. But she had never told him her secret.
“Oh my. Well, you would have to catch me first!” She chuckled, hand placed over her furry muzzle, her fur as white as the eggs she so liked buying from him. “I don’t mind being a goat on the run.”
“man, now you’ve goat to be kidding me,” he countered back. “guess you’ll be hoofing it before i even know it.”
“Well now! You herd it here first!  But I can’t let the law goat me down, you know.”
“i definitely goat ya for sure.” And he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own, feeling a sort of fuzziness that was only reserved for those with skin and fur. But it was all just a matter of perspective really. “just hope ya don’t forget me while you’re on the lamb.”
“Oh, not to worry. I can guarantee that I will miss you a skele-ton!”
There was a loud thud of something heavy hitting the floor in a corner of his store – to be specific, it was like the weird plop of a gallon of milk being thrown to the tiles in frustration – and Sans didn’t need to turn to know it was that same guy who just seemed to really like milk.
“I can’t focus on finding the right milk this way with all these puns!!! I’m sick I know it!! But let me live!! I’ll have to go to the bread aisle next if this keeps up…”
Toriel heard the muttering too, and a red blush coated her pure white fur. “Oops, perhaps we have overdone it a little this time, my friend.”
“no sweat. these jokes never get old, unlike some other things if ya get me.” He heard the groan from back in the corner. “by that i mean things like milk.” Another groan. “just wanted to make that clear.”
But right, that was probably enough pun wars for the day. Toriel was handing out her items for Sans to scan – which was really just her reaching for the scanner to do so herself. Was real nice of her to do this part for him. She could scan those eggs and bread like a real pro. Maybe he really should think of hiring.
“I missed you earlier today, it seems. The sign said you had to go somewhere? Oh, but now I’m just being nosy.”
“hey, i got nothing to hide from ya.” He leaned back against the counter, counting out all the eggs that she was meticulously checking one final time before purchase. “just had to do my side job. no biggie.”
“I had no idea you had so many responsibilities!”
“yeah, don’t like to brag though.” He placed his skull in a gloved hand, leaning down so that Toriel could seem even taller to him. It was fun to do. “playing truancy officer doesn’t exactly pay the bills.”
He didn’t have to say much before she was already figuring out just what he meant. That was the thing about miss teach here. She could read between the lines so well sometimes, that he had to make sure to play his cards just right. With careful handling of a certain box of pasta in her hand, she quietly scanned that one too before continuing to speak.
“I wanted to reach out to her home, but no one answers the phone. And she never explains about it much either.” A sigh, but not out of weariness. Only worry. Never had he met anyone who genuinely worried about all kids like this, no matter what they did. “Did Susie look okay to you?”
“just the usual, putting up the mean girl act.” He cracked his knuckles, the kinda thing that would send looks of disgust from across the room, but it only made Toriel crack a little smile of her own. “she’s a good kid though. just needs someone looking out for her.”
And then, that made him think a little more on that. “by the way, how’s your kid been doing, teach?”
Another pause, once again, this time holding up a box of chocolates, the real rich kind. The kind that just made one’s teeth hurt by just looking at the packaging. “They miss their brother so very much.”
Sans got the feeling all too well.
His phone vibrated again, and it was by instinct to reach for it, to swipe at the screen with his thumb and see what it was. Oh, but this time, he could open the app. The skull-and-bones cackled with glee as he could go to his list of emails, finding the string of capitalized letters and strange font use like an old friend.
[SPAM 4: S25 KAS] Re: failed kr0mer funds transfer Please contact me pleabse contact HELP
Nothing that unusual. But, why was it working now? He definitely needed a new iBone at his point. (That joke had been a stretch, he wasn’t proud of that one honestly.)
Just as Toriel was packing up her purchases in a slightly worn but still sturdy reusable shopping bag, she had seen the email light up on his phone. She chuckled. “Oh, haha! Looks like you goat mail!” She then paused, tapping her fingers together. “That was a very bad one, my apologies.”
“hm, don’t you mean…very baaaad?” Okay, so that put a strain on his non-existent vocal cords, but it got the old lady giggling and chortling, and maybe even a little snorting too.
“Haha, it certainly was indeed!”
“Oh my god can we please move the line already. I can’t keep carrying these on my head all day.”  A cat-like monster with orange-like fur and a depression-like face was standing behind Toriel. He was struggling with carrying a bunch of ice cube packs on his head, the water already dripping down the sides of his head and onto his pants.
Toriel instantly hurried, grabbing her bag with hardly a blink, but not before giving Sans a wave. “I must be getting back home anyways. See you tomorrow!”
Sans waved back at her, shooting her one last wink. He was punned out, so he settled with a “see ya, teach.”
As for the weird email he got, well, he could always check it once he got home, and once this cat in front of him was moist-free.
Not like he was gonna actually open it anyway.
--
It had been a long day at work for him, and not much happened after Toriel left – nothing except for when he talked with that kid of hers when they had stopped by, for a little bit.
And what they talked about was…
Well, it wasn’t that important to think back to anyway. As long as the kid brushed their teeth, didn’t catch any colds, or ate past their daily amount of chalk nutrients, they should be fine. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
Well, if he ignored that question about his brother at least.
But just when he was tired of blocking the entrance to the confusion of his customers, Sans decided to call it quits and head for home, which was just five steps away. It was always a rough commute, but sometimes one had to make sacrifices for keeping food on the table.
But before he could even put his hand on the doorknob, the windows inside so dark, the sounds inside so faint, his phone did something that it had never done before.
It rang.
Sans was very, very still.
His ring tone was also a fart noise.
So the phone would ring with a string of farting noises, one that played the Christmas carol, all in perfect tune. It was hilarious, but he usually never got to hear it.
And in his pocket, his phone was happily farting away, like it was having the time of his life.
He wished he could feel the same.
Underneath the red roof of his porch, Sans reached for the phone, gazing at the dark screen to show that someone was calling. It had no picture and no number. Not even an ‘Unknown’ to go with it. Just blank.
But it kept ringing – well, it kept farting. The kind of thing that would make a kid get into a laughing frenzy. He was envious.
“so this, huh?” he said to no one. Hopefully no one. It would be better if it was nobody at all.
He answered it, and the funny noises stopped. He expected to hear nothing but garbage at the other end of the line. That was just how things should have been. He put the phone to his skull, to the place where ears usually were.
It should just be trash. Nothing but that.
And instead, he heard a voice.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
HOW LONG
IT HAS BEEN.
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gtanddragons · 3 years ago
Text
Caught
A companion piece to @hopemakesstuff‘s works “Protecting Assets” and “Role Reversal”, this one is tied into our friend group’s Shifter!Makoto AU! In which everyone’s favorite lucky boy can (somewhat) control his ability to change his size, and all the shenanigans that ensue as a result.
Warnings: Contains spoilers for chapter two of DR1.
(Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid—!)
He’s practically mumbling those words to himself in a feverish mantra as he forces himself to hurry down the tiled hallway of Hope’s Peak Academy. 
(Need to find somewhere to hide—!)
Makoto is trembling, panting from the effort of making his way through the school— although it would normally be a simple task, it was certainly anything but now that he was stuck at a meager three inches tall. Despair hung heavy over his head as what would ordinarily be a few minutes’ walk to the first floor classrooms had already taken him… what, twenty minutes at this brisk pace? Thirty? It felt like an eternity had passed, and yet he still had a ways to go.
The dining hall was closer, certainly, but it was also almost certain that everyone would be gathered there for the breakfast meeting.
He feels guilty for missing it. Just one more reason to scold himself— he should’ve eaten last night. Should have gotten some rest. Shouldn’t have worn himself ragged, because now he’s stuck at his most vulnerable in a school full of other students who could (and maybe even would) kill him without a second thought. Maybe even by accident, and that’s somehow an even more repulsive thought.
The only other student who even remotely knows about his… condition… is Kyoko Kirigiri. Not of his own volition, of course, but she’d figured it out a lot quicker than he’d expected.
…No, there was yet another person who knew. Had known, since they had gone to school together since they were children.
But there isn’t any point in making himself even more depressed by thinking about her. Not right now. Either way, she can’t help him now— and he can’t rely on finding Kyoko to help him, not when she’s likely still with the others in the dining hall. He can’t risk exposing himself to everyone else like this.
For a brief moment, his thoughts go quiet, having finally exhausted themselves. 
(It’s okay. I’m almost to the classroom. I can just… hide in there under the teacher’s desk or something, wait to be able to shift back up to normal. And it wouldn’t be a lie to say that my stomach was hurting this morning—)
“Puhuhu~! And wheeeere do you think you’re going, little mister lucky student?”
Makoto yelps as an all-too-familiar figure pops out from seemingly nowhere— but this time, Monokuma towers over him, making the already-terrifying headmaster seem even more like a horrible monster than a cute little bear plushie.
Monokuma leans down and crosses his stubby arms as best as he’s able, still chuckling all the while. “I’ll admit, it’s kiiiiinda cute watchin’ you scurry around like that.~”
Makoto winces and takes an involuntary step back, gulping as the headmaster’s sharp teeth come closer into view. “I— I, um. I’m… going to the classroom…”
The bear pats his cheek thoughtfully, that unsettling grin still a mere foot away. “Ahhh, don’t wanna go to the dining hall, huuuuh? Smart move! Don’t wanna accidentally make one of your classmates a murderer, ‘cause. Yooou know.~ It would be such a shame if someone were to step on ya, or— ohhhh, how horrid! If you wound up as someone’s lunch. How cruel! Gahahaha!”
A chill runs up Makoto’s spine, and it takes all of his willpower to not fall back in fear at that obnoxiously-loud laughter. Thankfully, though, Monokuma gets out of his face as he straightens up.
“Ahhh… I should proooobably let you go. After all, wellllll… just try not to get caught, eh? Puhuhu!”
And once again, the bear is taking off fast enough for Makoto’s head to spin, still left confused over what Monokuma had meant— until the sound of footsteps in the distance catches his attention. Coming from further down the hallway…
Makoto suddenly tenses, his face blanching. He recognizes the sound of the voices drawing ever closer, and even at this distance, it’s easy to see just who’s coming his way.
Byakuya… and, trailing behind him… Toko. 
...No. Judging from the obnoxious laughter resounding through the school hallway… that would be Genocide Jack. Great.
(Gghk--! How did I not hear them getting closer--?!)
Makoto furiously shakes his head-- he could take more time to curse Monokuma, and his awful luck, later. For now, he needs to find a place to hide, but staying out in the open hallway is practically a death wish. 
He desperately glances in the direction of classroom 1-A-- he’ll have to run towards Byakuya and Jill’s general direction, but if he hurries…!
(I-I’m already worn out, but just a little more--!)
Makoto takes off at a full-blown sprint to the classroom, all too aware of the potential consequences of getting caught. His heart hammers in his chest as the footsteps draw closer, his two classmates coming into view like towering buildings on the horizon.
--
“Ugh… if this turns out to be some kind of goose chase, I swear…” Byakuya complains, his nose crinkling in disgust. He’d been attempting to enjoy picking apart case files in the archive over a cup of coffee this morning, but apparently even that was too much to ask. First he’d been besieged by Genocide Jack-- his new apparent fangirl, even pushier than Toko-- and then that accursed bear had shown up and caused a ruckus, insisting on showing them something interesting. But as of yet, Byakuya had yet to see anything even remotely worthy of his attention, and he was starting to get even more frustrated.
“Kyahaha! Ohh, Master, you know I can’t resist that stormy, sullen face! This whole ‘goose chase’ is worth every step~!”
Byakuya lets out a world-weary sigh, gritting his teeth as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
(Just keep tuning her out or you’ll get an even worse headache, Byakuya. Why couldn’t she have been the guilty party in this most recent--)
A sudden yelp from Jill drags him out of his thoughts, the serial killer’s arm snapping up to point down the hall in front of them.
“Oh look at that!”
Byakuya’s gaze shifts to where she’s pointing fast enough to get the faintest glimpse of… something. Something small-- a blur of movement in the doorway of the classroom at the end of the hall.
“Oooh, what was that?! A mooouuusee? And it thinks it can run from meeee?”
Byakuya isn’t surprised when Jill suddenly tears off down the hallway towards the classroom, shrieking with laughter. But as he follows after her, he can’t resist the slight increase of speed in his steps-- had that thing really been a mouse? He’d only seen it for a split second, but the color and shape had seemed… off. Some kind of robot like Monokuma, perhaps? A new clue…?
Either way, perhaps this tedious distraction would prove to be fruitful in the end… 
--
Jill is on her hands and knees the moment after she rushes into the room, prowling the classroom and sniffing the air like some kind of wild animal. 
“Awww, think you can hide? From me? Cuuuuuute. Now…”
Jill grins madly even as she pokes her head under a nearby desk.
“Come out, come out, whereeeever you aaaaare~!”
It doesn’t take long for Byakuya to follow after Jill and reach the doorway to the classroom, but even then… by the time he gets there, he’s met with the sound of desks clattering to the floor in one chaotic sweep, a triumphant yell (“Gotcha!”), and… the sight of Jill huddled up with something clutched in her hands.
Something squirming and… crying out.
Byakuya’s brows dart sharply upwards. Although he can’t quite see, and the sound is so small… he recognizes that terrified squawking.
“Aw, boo,” Jill grumbles. “Tch, not even big enough for one of my scissors…”
Byakuya hardly has any time to react before Jill turns around and—
His hands instinctively snap outwards as something is tossed in his direction. Whatever it is hits squarely in the palms of his hands and his fingers curl tightly around it, a flailing, warm weight that could only belong to a living creature— the thought alone nearly makes him drop the thing in revulsion.
(Did she just throw a filthy mouse at—?!)
“Soooorry Master~!” Jill croons, before pouting and tapping the blade of her scissors against her cheek. “Hmph… here I was hoping for some real meat, or a full-size cute boy… not a bite-sized happy meal with a little Mac.”
(What on Earth is she prattling on about now—?)
Byakuya looks down to his hands, wincing at the feeling of the little creature in his hands struggling in his grip… but as soon as he looks down, he can hardly tear his eyes away.
Caught haphazardly in his fingers, struggling and whimpering… is none other than Makoto Naegi. For once, Byakuya is at a loss for words, blinking disbelievingly at the ridiculous sight.
“Speaaaaking of meat,” Jill interrupts, her sullen mood ending with a quick snip of her scissors. “Let’s keep looking around, Master! I’m sure that goose must be somewhere around here.~”
With an obnoxiously loud cackle, she’s already out the door again— momentarily leaving Byakuya alone with his ‘catch’.
His grip loosens considerably at not feeling any more resistance; for a second, he feels a sudden twinge of grim resignation, thinking that perhaps the tiny boy sprawled out in his hands had died from the impact… though that theory is quickly disproven as he leans his head in closer, noting the subtle rise and fall of Makoto’s chest.
Just unconscious, then. Though, just to make sure (and to satiate some of his burning curiosity), Byakuya cautiously runs his fingertips over Makoto’s limbs.
Nothing broken, and… after using the tip of his nail to lift up Makoto’s hoodie and shirt, he can safely say that his little classmate managed to escape the ordeal with minimal bruising.
“‘Ultimate Lucky Student’ indeed,” Byakuya mutters. He lifts his hands even higher, squinting to get a better look at Makoto’s face. 
The boy seems peaceful, at least, although…
…He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. The dark circles under Makoto’s eyes are none of his concern. What is his concern, however…
Byakuya gives the classroom one last, cursory glance before carefully slipping Makoto’s limp form into his blazer pocket. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, even as he exits the classroom.
Finally, something interesting.
Very, very interesting.
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thr-333 · 4 years ago
Text
Mismatch- Part 10
Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020
Picking codenames is hard!... on Batman
First< Previous> Next
-------
“That was so awkward,” Marinette groans, pulling her beanie down as a mask.
“The part where your crush was asking for date ideas right next to you?” Marion turns his hoodless hoodie inside out to the black side, “Or the temperature drop between Chlo and 'he who shall no longer be named in her presence'?”
“One, we’re not in her presence right now so you don’t have to keep that promise,” Marinette unzips her skirt so she's down to her leggings and hands it to Marion, “and two, both, I hope you’re just a cringe worthy around Red Hood tonight”
“Now that’s just not nice,” Marion playfully pouts, flipping the skirt inside out and pulling it over his head.
“Your crush got us into this situation, I reserve the right to not be nice,” Marinette pulls her hood up before running and vaulting off the roof.
“Can you believe that?” Marion makes sure his mask is fit securely over his head.
“Yes, yes I can,” Plaggs voice sounds from his pocket. Marion doesn't answer chasing after Marinette to the meeting point.
“Sorry we’re late,” Marion says, touching down in front of Batman and Robin a second later than Marinette, he puts away his staff, “Not exactly the fastest way to travel,”
At least not without magic.
“That changes today,” Batman walks away from the edge of the building.
The twins follow with Robin who had fixed a glare on Marinette since their arrival.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Marinette decides to be the bigger person, both figuratively and literally, “I felt frustrated and defensive and took that out on you,”
Robin seems taken aback, regarding her for a long pause.
“Indeed, take care it doesn't happen again,” Robin says, at least slightly less snobbishly then he was yesterday.
Marinette doesn't let that bother her and gives him a bright smile. Taking him off guard again. Marion squints at the shadows trying to see a betraying hint of bright colors.
“The others are out on patrol,” Batman informs them as they come to stand next to him as he sets down a case on an old abandon table
Marion hoped he didn’t notice.
“So there’s no need to glare at the shadows,” Batman adds, a hint of amusement at Marion's embarrassment. He flips open the briefcase to reveal neatly packed grappling hook guns among other gadgets and weapons.
“These are your communicators, put them on,” Batman hands them each a small piece of cool metal shaped with irregular bumps that should fit well in their ears.
“Hello, this is Oracle, can you hear me?” A voice clicks on when the communicator is comfortable in Marion's ear.
“Um, hi Oracle, I don’t think we’ve met,” Marion says out loud, glancing at Batman who gives a confirming nod.
“We haven’t, but I’ve been watching you, I run surveillance in the Batcave,”
“That’s an actual thing?” Marinette blurts out, Oracle laughs.
“Yeah, Batman's committed to the motif,” She tells them, curiosity and mischief takes over.
“Please tell me there are actual bats,” Marion jokingly begs.
“Maybe you’ll find out for yourself someday,” Oracle teases.
“How mean,” Marion pouts playfully, hoping Oracle could tell he’s not serious.
“You’ll patrol with Robin and I today,” Batman hands them each a grappling hook, “Do you know how to use these,”
Marinette smirks, walking to the edge of the building and launching off, swinging into the night.
“That would be a yes,” Oracle chuckles, Marion looks around trying to figure out where she’s watching from, “Don’t bother looking, I have eyes all over the city,”
“Huh, that's concerning,” Marion watches Marinette land on an adjacent roof, waiting for them, “Also I don’t know how to use this, staffs really are my forte,”
“I’ll teach you, Robin follow her,” Batman commands, Robin swinging off with the same ease as Ladybug.
“That reminds me what are your codenames?” Oracle asks through the comms, as Marion regards the grappling hook with suspicion.
“Uh, we don’t have any, do we need them?” Marinette answers for him, as he judges the weight.
“It’ll be easier than saying ‘hey you’ and ‘the other one’,” Oracle sounds amused. Marion accidentally hits the trigger, Batman easily sidesteps the upcoming projectile.
“Plus we need to stamp out this rumour,” Robin spits venomously, Marion quickly retracts the hook.
“What rumour?” Marion looks to Batman who didn’t seem too upset about almost being shot.
“There has already been some sightings of you around Gotham, no one knows your names so they are calling you the new Robins,” Batman explains, correcting Marion’s grip on the grappling hook.
“Their first response to seeing new vigilantes was that there were new Robins?” From the audio it sounds like Marinette is rushing through the air. Something Marion realises he will be doing soon as Batman guides him to aim at the next building over.
“There's been a lot, plus you have the whole red, green and yellow,” Oracle informs, as Marion hits the trigger.
“Separately, I would never put all three in one outfit, unless I was trying to be a traffic light,” Marion smiles at Marinette's offence, remembering when she was forced to do just, lamenting over how heroes have no eye for color scheme.
“Regardless, you need codenames,” Batman watches as Marion pulls making the line go taunt.
“Do they have to be flying creatures themed?” Marion gets ready to swing down to the next building. He tries to remember the times they messed around and tried on each others miraculous. Needless to say he preferred his staff.
Batman is silent, swinging to the next building expecting Marion to follow.
“I’m going to connect your comm to the others, they need to hear this,” Oracle laughs, a click later, “New guys are on,”
“Hi,” Nightwing's voice comes through.
“Hello,” The twins both greet, getting a response from Red Robin as well.
“Hey, I’m Spoiler, nice to meet ya,” A cheerful feminine voice greets.
“Black Bats also on here somewhere, don’t expect her to talk much,” Oracle tells them, Marion still standing on the edge of the roof.
“I’m here too,” Red Hood’s voice startles him, jumping off and swinging across more on instinct than anything else.
“I’m surprised at you Hood,” Robin sneer can be heard, Marion lands on the roof with a slight stumble.
“Don’t be, just didn’t want there to be new Robins running around,” Red Hood grouses, Marion gives Batman a slightly amused smile, the man nods in approval, or confirmation?
“We were actually just talking about codenames,” Oracle remarks, “Flying creature themed,”
“How about, flying squirrel!” Marion jokes, following Batman's lead as he aims for the next building over.
“Sugar glider,” Marinette giggles.
“Yeah, that's the one,” Marion approves, grappling hook shooting out with a hiss.
“No,” Batman denies, swinging off.
“Flying fish,” Marion follows with less hesitation.
“Scientific name: Exocoetidae,” Oracle answers without a beat, as Marion swings through the air.
“Why would you know that?” Marion hears someone say over the rushing wind.
“No,” Batman growls, Marion landing next to him.
“Gliding Lizard,” Marinette offers, as Batman shows Marion the retraction tool on the grappling hook.
“Scientific name: Draco,” Oracle recites.
“Potter,” Marion and Red Hood snarl together. Marion tries not to grin like an idiot in front of the watching Batman.
“No,” Batman jumps to the next much taller building using the retraction tool to pull himself to the top.
“Flying frog’s a thing,” Oracle tells them through the comms, “Or Wallace’s flying frog,”
“Oh, can everyone please just call me Wallace,” Marion makes sure his grappling hook is secure, “You’ve got Batman, Robin, Red Hood, and Wallace,”
“I’ll be Grommet,” Marinette laughs, Marion jumps.
“No,” Batman repeats, Marion uses the grappling hook to pull him up next to Batman.
“Mosquito,” Spoiler chimes in.
“Fly,” Red Hood adds, Marion can hear gunshots from somewhere. Looking around he realises it was from the comms. Nobody comments, so he assumes it was common enough.
“No,” Batman says, Marion follows him more confidently.
“Flying snake,” Marion remembers after a far too long conversation with Sass.
“Is that a thing?” Nightwing questions. Marion jumps off the building, sending the grappling hook out as he falls.
“Sure is,” Marion feels the hook snag on something and pills himself up landing next to Batman.
“Slightly more afraid of snakes,” Nightwing admits, Batman's expression is similar to Kagami's when he jumped into the Seine river to save a cat.
“Don’t worry they’re only mildly venomous,” Marion smiles, partly at Batman's still surprised face.
“Gee, thanks,” Nightwing says, as Marion ignores Batman's glare.
“Welcome,” Marion swings to the next building with a cheeky grin.
“No,” Batman overtakes him.
“This is why we’ve never chosen codenames,” Marinette whispers.
“I see,” Robin whispers back, no one bothers to inform them they can be heard.
“You are now limited to birds,” Batman grumbles, leading Marion across rooftops, still at a slow pace.
“Penguin!” Marion grins, Batman was trying but it would take a lot more to discourage him.
“That's a villain,” Red Robin tells him. Marion knew that he just thought it would be funny if they were both called penguin.
“Emu,” Marinette continues the flightless bird trend as Marion soars across the sky.
“No,” Batman growls.
“Cassowary,” Marion remembers the evil looking bird from their Nonna's postcard. Which Marinette had kindly made sure was hung up facing his bed.
“Why?” Red Hood startles Marion, causing him to crash through a window of an old building.
“Have you seen them? Quite frankly scarier than bats” Marion is momentarily proud of himself for not stuttering.
“No,” Batman looks disapproving, standing atop the broken glass, Marion rubs his neck grinning sheepishly.
“I think he’s intimidated,” Red Hood snickers, warmth filling Marion making him forget.
“It’s already working,” Marion smiles, partly at Batman who turns to leave.
“No it’s not,” Batman says gruffly. Marion moves to follow but he senses something off, the same instincts he had honed during Akuma attacks.
“Sure,” Red Hood scoffs, but Marion isn’t distracted trying to focus his somewhat super hearing. The muted sounds of distress could easily be written off, but he knew better.
“Kiwi,” Spoiler chirps, Marion tugs on Batman's cape, not bothering to look back as he follows a mixture of the murmurs and instinct.
“Quail,” Red Robin adds, Marion rushes down the stairs, echoing footsteps of them both making it harder to hear so he just keeps going down.
“Ostrich,” Nightwing chatters, even over the footsteps Marion can now hear something.
“Stop choosing flightless birds,” Batman commands, trying again in vain to narrow down their shenanigans.
“Pigeon,” Spoiler crushes his hopes of them taking it seriously.
“Bin chicken!,” Nightwing laughs, Marion reaches the bottom of the staircase. He concentrates Batman standing silently behind him.
“You mean Ibis?” Robin corrects. Marion can hear it now, the floor below several people, children, some crying others yelling for help.
“That's not nearly as much fun,” Spoiler yammers, as Marion whispers the information to Batman.
“Crow,” Nightwing tries again. Batman nods, taking the lead. Marion feels some of his tension drain, Batman carrying a similar feeling to whenever he followed Ladybug.
“Raven,” Marinette seems to at least be making an attempt to take this seriously now, probably because Marion hasn’t been egging her on.
“Already a hero,” Robin tells her, Batman breaks down the door to an office type room, the guard behind the desk barely having a chance to react before getting knocked out.
“Really? I have to meet them,” Oh thats right, no she wasn't because MDC had designed a Raven outfit months ago.
“Dove,” Oracle tries, Marion wonders if she is watching as Batman shoves a shelf out the way revealing a locked door.
“Crane,” Red Hood adds, Batman's relief at semi serious names is dulled as he easily picks the lock while Marion readies his staff.
“Heron,” Spoiler says, as the door swings open. Batman looks back, checking in on Marion who gives him a reassuring smile, theres no way he would miss this.
“Osprey,” Robin offers. Marion is glad he is getting involved, lightning his mood as they enter the basement room. A group five of men with guns nearby playing cards.
“The Heron and the Osprey are my friends,” Marion half sings the Pocahontas tune as he lunges forward, smacking the gun out of the first goon's hand and kicking him in the stomach simultaneously.
“It’s otter,” Nightwing corrects good-naturedly, Marion watches the first goon double over. He defends himself against the seconds punch, a third ganging up on him.
“Well someone ban us from anything but birds,” Marion light heartedly glares at Batman who takes out the third goon.
“Moving on,” Batman grunts, disarming a fourth goon that comes at him, the fifth already on the ground.
“Hawk,” Red Robin suggests, just as Marion turns to see the second goon aiming a gun at him.
“Eagle,” Marinette says, a batarang flies through the air hitting the goons hand, who drops the gun reflexively.
“You’re going to have to commit to full american if you take on that one,” Nightwing chuckles, Marion tries to hit the second goon in the head but his staff is caught by a bleeding hand.
“So no then,” Marinette lets some of her french accent come through. Marion yanks his staff forward, sending the goon off balance forward. He brings his knee up to his chest and elbow to the back of his neck at the same time.
“Kite,” Nightwing offers. Marion watches the goon slump to the floor, reminding himself to bandage his hand later.
“Parasailing,” Marion plays the word association game. The first goon has recovered and is standing again, now with a knife.
“How’d you make that connection,” Nightwing puzzles, as Marion dodges the blade.
“It’s like flying a kite but with people's lives,” Marion laughs, partly at the very confused look the first goon gives him.
“High risk kite flying, if it gets stuck in a tree it's time to go to the hospital,” Red Hood snatches Marion's focus, almost getting himself stabbed.
“You realise that the people who are in the air are meant to be having fun,” Red Robin asks, Marion can’t answer as he dodges the knife again. He would never hear the end of it if he got stabbed because of his crush. Oh and he would have to go to the hospital and might die and stuff.
“Then they're clearly not doing parasailing right,” Red Hood retaliates, Marion decides he does not want Marinette to put this on his tombstone. He steps to the opposite side of the knife, the goon predictably twists to reach him. Marion grabs his wrist holding the knife and his shoulder with the other hand.
“I second that,” Marion grins sweeping the goons legs while applying pressure to the wrist until the knife is dropped. The goon lands on his back, Marion pulls his arm so he is forced on his stomach, other arm trapped underneath.
“You are never allowed near the ocean again,” Marinette sighs, Marion moves the arm he is still holding into a pin. Batman hands him a pair of handcuffs. Marion snaps one around the goons writs before pulling the other out from under his body.
“I shouldn’t have to say it but your codename cannot be Parasailing,” Batman scowls, the other three goons already out cold.
“Ugh, why can’t we just go with Robins?” Marion sits the goon up, lifting the table and sliding his looped arms under a leg.
“We already have a Robin and Red Robin,” Nightwing points out, Marion moves to the second goon. He pulls some bandages out of his satchel, tightly bandaging the goons bleeding hand.
“Scarlet Robin,” Marinette suggests. Marion smiles at her teasing tone, zip tying the second goon's hands together.
“Same thing,” Red Robin sounds irritated, Marion looks to see Batman has restrained the other goons as well.
“With less alliteration” Spoiler mocks, Marion checks to make sure there are no weapons within reach of the one conscious goon.
“Black Robin,” Marion picks up his dropped staff, holding on to it in case there's anyone else looking for a fight.
“Flame Robin,” Nightwing offers, Batman surveyed the room before giving Marion a nod.
“I like that one,” Marion sets down the hall towards the noise, he's not sure if Batman can hear yet.
“You are not to call yourselves Robin,” Robin snarls, Marion would grin over getting him to snap if it wasn’t for the quiet cries behind the door he stood in front of.
“Thrush,” Red Hood taunts, Marion pushes open the door where there are several children who all startle at seeing him.
“That's a Robin,” Robin sneers, when Batman follows in after him their concern melts into relief. The younger ones running up to him.
“No its not,” Oracle says, Marion can hear sirens from above and wonders who called the police, “Robins are part of the Chat family,”
“Oh I have to be Chat!” Marion exclaims, making the few kids near him jump and the others look at him like he’s crazy. He blushes but gives them a friendly smile and wave.
“No!” Marinette shouts not at all suspiciously. He ignores her, telling Batman, and by extension the room the police have arrived. He can hear them entering the building. “I find it highly entertaining you know so much about birds,”
‘Very smooth cover’ Marion doesn't dare say out loud. He crouches down in front of the kid closet to him. His clothes are torn with dirt smudged all over them and his face. Marion gives his brightest smile asking if he’s ok. He gets a hesitant one in return and a slight nod.
“Alright then, other small bird species,” Oracle graciously changes the subject.
“Fantail,” Spoiler suggests, Marion can hear the police running around upstairs in completely the wrong direction. He tells Batman so.
“Sparrow,” Nightwing tries, Batman leaves to direct the police. They probably wouldn't trust an unknown like Marion, much like the kids don't.
“I like that one,” Marinette approves, Marion reaches into his bag pulling out a box of cookies. It was meant to be a backup for Tikki, but the Kwami could make do.
“It’s acceptable,” Batman says over the comms. Marion hands the box to the boy who stands in front of him.
“Other birds starting with s?” Red Robin asks, Marion smiles as the boy’s excitement when he opens the box.
“Swallow,” Nightwing says, after a thoughtful pause. Marion watches as the boy immediately goes to share with the others.
“One step forward,” Robin mutters, Marion gives the kids a reassuring smile before moving to stand watch at the door.
“Seagull,” Spoiler giggles, Marion can hear the police talking with Batman, who must have turned off his comm.
“And two steps back,” Red Hood mocks, Marion tries to keep the completely inappropriate lovestruck grin off his face.
“Looking up birds,” Oracle informs, a pause then, “Sad flycatcher,”
“Should we shorten it down to ‘sad’ or ‘flycatcher’,” Marion wonders aloud, hoping the kids didn’t hear him, or at least don’t think he’s insane.
“Sad,” Red Robin responds instantly. Marion feels a tug on his sleeve, looking down he sees the same boy holding out a cookie for him.
“Fly catcher,” Nightwing says cheerfully. Marion’s heart melts. Shaking his head he urges the kid to have it himself. He does, sticking close to Marion.
“No,” Batman must have turned his comm back on, in time for Marion to catch the tell tale footsteps coming downstairs.
“That isn’t part of the name at all,” Spoiler jokes, the police enter the room. Marion sees Batman signal for them to leave. Marion ruffles the boy's hair gently, getting a slightly bolder smile.
“Stork,” Marion leaves the room, sticking close to Batman so police don’t attack him.
“You are very cute with babies,” Red Hood praises, making Marion's face heat.
“You saw that!” He yells, startling the officers they walk past to get upstairs.
“I recorded it,” Red Hood’s amusement is clear in his voice. Marion can’t come up with an answer, his thoughts warring over if that was a good thing or not.
“Santa cruz ground dove,” Oracle reads, snapping Marion out of his thoughts. He had blindly followed Batman to the stairwell, he seemed amused by Marion's spaciness.
“Santa,” Nightwing declares, as the two climb the stairs.
“Absolutely,” Marion beams, looking for Batman's reaction.
“No,” Batman shuts down, unfortunately stony faced.
“Screaming Crowbir-”
“No,” Batman cuts Oracle off.
“Scrub warbler,” Oracle tries again.
“We aren't calling him scrub,” Nightwing sighs, before Batman gets the chance.
“Sharpe,” Oracle proposes.
“I will exclusively call you permanent marker,” Spoiler promises, making him smile.
“Sounds like a win-win,” Marion bounces to the top of the stairs.
“No,” Batman grouses, they come out to the roof, the night's cool air hitting them.
“Shelley’s starling,” Oracle reads, as Marion walks to the edge of the roof to see what's happening below.
“Please let me be Shelley,” Marion begs Batman, hands clasped and everything.
“No,” Batman snaps, Marion hits him with the babydoll eyes, “Maybe,”
“Shikra,” Oracle interrupts his silent victory.
“Shakira!” Nightwing shouts, Marion bounces on his feet.
“No,” Batman says firmly.
“Please,” Marion tries the babydoll eyes again.
“I’d rather you be Shelley,” Batman admits, Marion would take it.
“Sparkling violetear,”  Oracle lists.
“Sparkling,” Spoiler gushes, Marion looks onto the street below where the kids are exiting the building.
“No,” Batman disapproves, also watching medics take over, giving blankets out and checking them over.
“Flash back to the first robin costume,” Nightwing's haunted whisper carries over.
“What?” Marinette sounds horrified, Nightwing's previous fashion choices not being very confidence inducing.
“Squirrel cockatoo,” Oracle reads, just why it’s called that is beyond Marion.
“Wont that confuse people?” Red Robin asks, Marion spies the little boy looking around.
“Exactly,” Marion’s comment gets a chuckle from someone, he hopes it’s Red Hood.
“Stitch bird,” Oracle adds. The boy's eyes land on Marion who probably just looked like a silhouette, but only so many people hang out on rooftops.
“Can I change my name to Lilo?” Marinette requests. The boy waves, Marion gives him a two fingered salute before disappearing from view.
“No, we’ve wasted enough time as is,” Robin doesn't pick up on her taunt, Marion and Batman leave the scene behind.
“Good job,” Batman remarks, Marion doesn't hear an echo from his ear.
“Sunda Robin,” Oracle says, Marion smiles to himself watching Batman move ahead.
“No Robins,” Robin scowls, Marion tries to get back into the rhythm of swinging through the air.
“Sunda thrush,” Oracle repeats. Batman stops, brings up a holographic map, a flashing ‘R’ not far from them.
“Same thing!” Robin yells, Marion follows Batman in the direction shown on the map.
“We’re going to be here all night,” Red Robin sighs tiredly.
“How about-”
“That's enough for tonight,” Batman cuts off Spoiler, a long pause following.
“Guys I think we broke B.” Nightwing stage whispers into the comms.
“Good job, and on your first night too,” Red Hood cheers, making Marion stumble his landing. Which is obviously the moment their paths intersect with Marinette and Robin. The former giving him a knowing look.
Marion sneers, they continue on with patrol as a group. Oracle directs them to a pickpocket a block over. They take one look at the four vigilantes surrounding them and give in. They are interrupted by their phones simultaneously buzzing, an Akuma alert.
“We have to go,” Marinette lands next to Batman, handing over the grappling hook.
“Where?” Batman demands, as they both remove their comms, cutting off the others asking the same.
“Something came up, we have to handle it, see ya,” Marion waves, vaulting off the building, followed by Marinette.
“... I have to admit, that wasn’t too bad,” Marinette muses, as they check for cameras before transforming.
“That's the spirit Sparrow!” Marion pulls on his glasses, “Gasp! Jack Sparrow!”
“Captain,” Marinette corrects, “Don’t tell Batman he’ll make us change it again,”
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physicalturian · 4 years ago
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Why don’t you listen to me? Law x GN! Reader - Part 3
Spoilers for : Punk Hazard and Dressrosa arcs [No gender used for the reader, no physical description, everyone is +18] Words : 3341 Archive of our own Bad flirting, fluff, embarrassment No warnings, if you feel like I should put some, send me a DM or an ask!
… Part 1  -  Part 2
“Good morning my two lovebirds, how was the evening? Was the sky clear enough for you to stargaze?” The skeleton said happily.
I felt my face heat up when he pointed his last question at me, has he heard my discussion with Robin? We did not even stargaze, I did not have the courage to suggest that, because I’m an idiot. “Mister Brook, you’re awake- what a lifesaver you are! Would you be so kind-“
“Bone-ya, your turn to watch over the gaz idiot, he’s dead asleep right now so you get the easy part.” Law stated before standing up, blankets in hands, as he pulled me up with him and tugged me towards the door that led inside the cabin. I followed his fast pace and once we were inside, he let go of me without looking back at me.
 “I’m already using the free bed in the men’s quarter, I’ll check if there’s a spare bed somewhere-“ A soft voice interrupted Law, a voice I knew quite well already. Facing the source of it, Robin had a towel around her shoulders as she dried her hair.
“My bed’s free, since I’m awake,” looking at me she smiled brightly, “You can use it, I don’t think Nami will mind. She’s a quite the heavy sleeper.” I was a bit surprised by her suggestion, but considering the look on her face, she really did not mind. I nodded slowly. “Thank you, I would love that.”
Turning around to give my captain a look, I smiled. “I’ll be off then, good night- or like, morning, but you get me. Good sleep.” I felt a weird feeling in stomach when he smiled back, albeit a bit tiredly, it was still genuine. Before I left, he placed his hand on my head a few seconds, not doing anything, then walked away without another word, his hand falling to his side. I stood there a bit confused, then looked back at Robin when she cleared her throat right next to me.
“Ah right, show me the way, I’m right behind you.” I told her as she walked in front of me once more, helping me through the ship until we finally reached the quarters. As I was about to enter the room, she put her arm right in front of it, stopping me right there. Meeting her eyes, I saw a certain mischievousness to it and sighed internally. This is about last night; she is definitely going to mention it-
“How was the evening with your captain? Have you made a move?” I couldn’t help but return her smile, she seemed to excited by all this. Almost as invested as I was, it was like having a friend. She had such a warm aura; I had no choice but answer her truthfully.
 “It was… something? And I did not make a move- I said I was not going to do anything, and I didn’t. No matter how cute he looked ok? I just,” Moving my hand, flat in front of me in a calming gesture, I exhaled, “I just need to ignore it and it’ll be fine, right?” A charming laugh escaped her lips, she moved her hand in front of it as it grew a bit louder.
“You’re oblivious, it’s painful to see. Do you not see him trying?” She asked between laughs. I scoffed nervously, intertwining my hands together in front of me, I looked askance.
“Trying what? What do you mean?” A small part of me had a hint of what she was saying but I did not want to get my hopes up, I knew him a lot longer than she did, I knew how to read him.
 She knew him for a few days, barely, I was better at this, right? Sighing my name, she shook her head. “You have my full support for this, but the others want to see how long it’ll take for you both to come to the realization. I don’t want you to never understand, so I’ll say this: Law clearly likes you, have you not noticed?”
With another nervous laugh, I had a crisped smile. “But does he though? He’s just being nice; he might not look like it but he’s a real kind man.” I continued, making the fruit user exhale once more. She then chuckled and turned around, adding that it’ll take more time than expected then she bid me goodnight.
 Left to my own device, I stood by the door a moment, taking in what she had said. Weighting her words in my head, I hardly saw her as someone who’d lie or play with others; But at the same time, I did not know her enough, and I knew how to read Law’s behavior, or did I? Maybe I was too biased now to see anything. Then it would make sense that she saw things differently and he might like me? No, no… Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and exhaled loudly. I need sleep, I can’t start hoping like that, I had to focus on where we were going and what was at stake. Yes, taking down one of the Seven Warlord of the Sea, it’s not that had. They had a plan, right? My brain was starting to overthink as I slid under the blanket of the empty bed in the room. I had barely caught a glimpse of the thief’s form, for she was hidden beneath the blankets, cocooned.
 Ironically, it’s when you sought sleep the hardest that it did not come.
 I looked at the ceiling of the quarters, minutes after minutes. I was tired, but I could not fall asleep. After some time, I even heard Nami get up and get prepared, maybe even heard a gasp from her when she saw me sleeping in her friend’s bed but she probably understood quick enough.
 Once she left, I was alone with my thoughts once more. I heard each and every creak the ship was making. Every step echoing against the wooden floor, under me. Voices talking semi-loudly, things being lifted. The boat in itself was coming alive as everyone awoke to their usual time. But after an hour I was still wide awake. I tried, I tried hard but I was not used to it. I missed the muffling sound of submarine when we’d be underwater. I was used to the sound of steps on the metallic ground, not the wooden one. And the constant pressuring feeling of being underwater, it had been not been so long ago since I was in the submarine and yet I was already missing it. “It’s going to be hard to sleep here. Who would have thought, uh.” I huffed as I threw the blanket off myself and got out of bed, making sure to make it properly before leaving the room.
Once I shuffled out of the room, opening the curtains as I did so, I was about to go downstairs when I bumped into something, someone.
“Shit, sorry-“ moving my hands from in front of myself, I looked at the person and made a surprised face. “Law? Why aren’t you asleep?”
He scoffed, “Why aren’t you?” he returned the question, giving me a once over before looking to the side.
“I can’t sleep, I’m not used to being on the water. I usually sleep when we’re moving underwater, so it’s pretty weird, and noisy too.” I explained with a laugh before asking him why he wasn’t asleep.
“I can’t sleep either. Bepo is usually my go to pillow.” He stated, his eyes squinted at the light hitting us on the deck.
Pursing my lips, I made a noise then cleared my throat. “I might not be as comfortable as Bepo but if you need a pillow, I can try my best.” I suggested half-jokingly, hoping that if it was too much, he’d laugh it off. But instead of laughing, he met my gaze and quirked a brow.
“Are you asking me to sleep with you?” He teased; a sly smirk painted on his face.
 I grimaced in answer, running my hand on my scalp. I decided to flee the embarrassment, “I was just, suggesting something- But hey, you know what? I’ll just try to go back to sleep, I did sleep well in that room up there, so uh- see you?” I said as I pointed to the crow nest, the moment I use my devil fruit ability to teleport up there, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It startled me but I stayed focused and got us there safely, but not without almost dropping him mid-air. As our feet touched the ground, I quickly faced Law, my brows furrowed.
“A bit of a warning next time would be nice, you scared me!”
“Do you plan on sleeping long?” I was a bit disturbed by his question, the awkward smile on my face definitely portraying so.
“I hope so? I don’t really know, it truly depends on how well of a blanket you are, really.” I replied playfully, giving him a side-look. He rolled his eyes before putting his hand on my shoulder once more,
“Zoro-ya will probably go to the gym once he wakes up, I don’t want to get interrupted. We’ll take the infirmary bed.”
 From the tone of his voice, it’s not like I had a choice. Although he had a point, I did not want to be woken up by the sound of weights being lifted from the ground and hitting it every few minutes. It would be quite annoying indeed. Agreeing with my captain, I gave him a curt nod and teleported us back downstairs, and we made our way to the infirmary. As we did so, Law was careful enough to grab the blankets from last night then brought us to the room in question. He did not bother knocking, and simply went inside, startling the young reindeer who was working at his desk. “To-Torao! What- you scared me! Why are you here-“ Law interrupted the doctor, mumbling he needed the bed. I could see he was getting snappy from his lack of sleep so I pushed him aside and gave a wide smile to the blue-nosed reindeer.
 “I’m so sorry to disturb you like this, it’s just that we had a long night, watching over Caesar and all- what Law meant to say is: could we borrow your infirmary for a few hours, just enough to get some sleep?” The youngest of the crew was like a deer caught in the spotlight, literally, he also seemed pensive for a moment. When he eyes looked to the side, he quickly looked back at me and chuckled nervously.
“Y-yeah, sure! But don’t- don’t do anything nasty or-or stuff like that! It’s still my room- and I have things to do today!” He tried to hide his nervousness as he slowly stepped away, towards the door but he was clearly feeling strange.
 We waited until he left the room before talking. “You were this close to snapping at him. You can’t snap at doctor Chopper, he seems so nice!” I exclaimed, observing Law’s actions. In a few movements, he had taken the mattress of the bed and put it on the floor, throwing the pillows and blankets with it. I looked, intrigued, as he settled everything the way he wanted before taking his hat and coat off.
“It… surprisingly looks cozy. Well done Captain.” The look he gave me almost made me choke, I squeaked his name instead as I joined him on the floor, moving the number of pillows I liked to have it right under my head. Once I was laying comfortably, I heard the click of the light being turned off and then I felt the weight of Law’s body next to me.
“Do you want a pillow? Or is my body enough-“ I gasped when I felt his hand on me, as if he was testing how comfy it’d be. I was grateful for the lights being turned off because my face surely heated up the moment, he touched me.
 Without hearing his answer, I put a pillow on my stomach and patted it loudly for him to lay down. “Come on, off you go. Hopefully I’ll be Bepo-worthy.” I breathed out in the darkness.
 “Try to get some sleep,” he said my name softly before laying down on the pillow that was set on my stomach. I did not reply right away, instead I had my hands in the air, just barely lifted from myself but still, raised. I did not know where to put them. I would often sleep on the side or with my hands on my stomach or over my eyes but I couldn’t do that right now. As I was about to force myself to just have them at my side, instead the usual position I’d sleep in, Law’s voice reached my ears, his soothing voice saying my name. “Just put your hands down please, you’re stressing me out.”
 “Well, with your stupidly nice face on me, I don’t know where to put my hands, ok?” I hissed/whispered back, his hand suddenly grabbed mine and shuffled on his spot; He moved so that he was now on his stomach, face in the pillow as he spoke, a bit unclearly.
“Put it on my back, I don’t care. But please, sleep.” He whispered. At this very moment I found out I did not mind it at all when he spoke softly like that, dare I say I found it quite endearing. But I did not mention it. I placed my hand on his back and closed my eyes, sighing.
“’m sorry, good night Law.” He mumbled something in return, but all I could hear was the weird way he said my name into the pillow.
 Soon enough, we both drifted to sleep. I hardly had time to focus on the noises around me, too enthralled by the breathing that was happening on me. But it helped, once I focused on his breathing, I was quick to join the land of dreams. However, during my little time of sleep, I was woken up by some thrashing coming from Law. His legs twitching, sometimes kicking as one of his hand gripped his pillow tighter, while the other was under the pillow and over my waist, his fingers gripping at nothing.
 Hesitantly, I touched his back gently and grabbed his hand, calling out his name in the softest way I could. “Hey… Law? Hey, you’re alright. You’re good, we’re in the Sunny, with the Straw Hats. Law, are you okay?” Soon after, he stopped trashing and calmed down, his expression a lot softer than a minute ago. Without an answer, I sighed tiredly and pulled the blanket over his shivering form, rubbing his back as I fell back asleep. The rest was of the night went on without a hitch.
 Not that I’d ever admit it, but it was probably one of the best naps, or night during the day, I have ever had. It was comfortable to have that weight on my body, it was very different from the pressure of the submarine but I found it comforting nonetheless.
 Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. And our end was the loud sound of the door to the infirmary being slammed open, startling me awake. I cursed under my breath as I tried to focus on the blinding light that was coming from the entrance.
“Chopper needs his infirmary!“
“Nami, Nami! I said it could wait a few more hours- let them sleep, they clearly both need it, have you seen how tired they look-“ his face turned bright red as his mouth opened, as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.
 Only half awake, I blinked a few more times to see the people in front of me more clearly. “Give us a minute, we’ll come out- just a few more minutes.” I think I slurred. I knew it wasn’t articulate, but I also knew I tried my best to speak as clear as I could. The famous thief sighed loudly, mumbling something about being two idiots, lovebirds and better not be doing weird shit in there. Chopper, right next to her, was still in shock and seemed to be stuttering as he said he did not mind if we stayed a bit more, he’ll come back later.
 When they left, closing the door behind, I slumped back on the pillow and sighed, almost choking when I felt a breeze on my stomach. Trying to see the shape in the darkness, and with a bit of time, I understood why Chopper was surprised. Law’s face was no more on the pillow I had set on my stomach, but was just resting on my bare stomach. My shirt having risen during the night, his warm breath was tickling my skin at each exhale. My heartbeat suddenly sped up and I hesitantly put my hand on his hair to push him away, but he spoke at that very moment.
“I dare you to do that.”
I stopped right away, scoffing. “I thought you were asleep. Did you hear what they said? We have to get out.” I whispered back, not moving my hand from his hair. He huffed a laugh, making my skin tingle. I don’t know if I hated or loved the feeling of his jaw moving against my stomach, but it was something.
 “Tony-ya said he’d come back in a few hours. We still have time.” His fingers graze against my waist, and I jerked at the sudden touch. “Unless you want to go, it’s fine by me.” He breathed. In my mind, things were going all over. I did not know what to do, should I leave and just end this right there? Whatever this is? I mean, he probably just moved during his sleep, he did not do that willingly, I think. Or maybe I should stay? Enjoy the only time this’ll ever happen and just act casual. How could I act casual when I could feel his rough beard grazing my skin every time he spoke? Fuck.
 Taking a deep breath, I let go of his hair and placed my hand back on his back. “I’ll stay, it’s fine. I was sleeping well, I think I’d like to do that some more, yeah…” I trailed off, closing my eyes but still not fully relaxed. If I did not know better, I’d say the man on me was snuggling up but I think he was just getting more comfortable. “Good, because I was also sleeping soundly until that thief came crashing in,” he mumbled before continuing, “They always have to be so loud, it gets on my nerves.” He muttered.
 I chuckled and rubbed is back as I said, “You can’t complain, you chose them as your allies. Plus, they’re loud but they seem nice. I think it’s a good choice, you could have chosen someone like- Eustass Kid or someone like that, that would have been something.” At this point I was fully awake, but I could see the time it took for Law to answer, he was slowly falling back asleep.
“Never. Redhaired idiot, too much.” Ah, he was past the point of making sentences.
“Sleep, please.” He added as his final word, gently pressing a kiss on my skin.
 Wait- what? I covered my mouth in surprise, looking down where he was, for what I could see in the darkness at least. Maybe, maybe Robin was right? Or did he do it just, out of habit or something? I don’t think he kisses Bepo, my own thought made me laugh but I quickly shook that thought off. Bringing my hand to his back once more, I slowly slid it to his hair, brushing my thumb through it. What is he doing to me?  I thought as I closed my eyes and slowly faded back to sleep.
[Part 4]
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bound-writings · 5 years ago
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Hananene For The Soul
♡tbhk secret santa for @amanebae​ aka Momica♡
“Game Day” fic + Hananene Relationship HCS
>nene has an overnight school trip, leaving her no choice but to leave a certain ghost boy themselves. spoiler alert - she doesn’t though. 
>also nene introducing modern games to a baby boomer named Hanako
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“Yashiroooo, you have to be lying right now!” Hanako whined as he squeezed Nene tighter, his neck resting on the crook of her neck, pouting.
“No, I’m not lying, Hanako-kun! I’m being one hundred percent serious!” the dual-colored hair huffed, dunking the mop in the bucket as she continued to scrub the floor. The boy groaned louder at Nene’s response and held on tighter as if trying to restrict her movements.
“But what about me, Yashiro? Are you just gonna abandon me and go off on your own??”
The girl sighed, furrowing her eyebrows at Hanako’s childish behaviors. Then again, he was always like that, wasn’t he? “Hanako-kun, you don’t need to be so dramatic! It’s only going to be for three days-”
“Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and then the weekend! I’m not going to be seeing you for five whole days in a row!” Hanako’s shoulders drooped as he released his hold on Nene. Nene sighed in relief and massaged her sore neck. 
“Yashiro!” he whined, grabbing the mop and trying to pry it from Nene’s hands, “You can still rethink your decision!” 
Yashiro squealed as she held on to the mop. “I’m not going to! You’ve survived without me before, Hanako-kun! And I’ve already paid for it and everything! I don’t know why you’re so insistent on me staying here!”
Hanako released his grip on the mop, tilting his hat so it would cover his eyes. “I see, Yashiro. If that’s what you want.”
Yashiro frowned as her heart twinged. She didn’t mean to hurt the boy’s feelings. Or maybe he was trying to guilt-trip her, like the time he used the fake tears? Hmph, she wouldn’t be fooled! (She was.)
>the next day
“Why not?”
“What?! No way! I came here to get you to stop me, Tsuchigomori-sensei!”
“I mean, the trip isn’t mandatory. It’s for pleasure only. I see nothing wrong with skipping it. And I could also refund your money as well.”
“Listen, I don’t know what to do!”
“What a pain… Did you ask Honorable Number Seven about it?”
“Yes, of course! He knows about it and he wants me to stay at school! But I don’t know anything about him! He never even told me about his past, and I never know what’s going on in that head of his. He’s hugging me one minute, and the next he’s cruelly making me clean toilets!” Nene sighed, pursing her lips at her outburst. “Clearly he doesn’t trust me… so I don’t know why he’s so desperate for me to stay with him…”
Tsuchigomori sighed, puffing out smoke from his pipe.
“You know kid, he’s been a lot happier ever since you came around.”
“Eh?”
“You should have seen him before. Always moping around in the stall and complaining about how boring it was around here.”
“And?”
“And now it’s the complete opposite. He doesn’t say it, but you made a huge impact on him, kid. Maybe he doesn’t tell you some things, but I believe that’s because he wants to protect you.”
“I-I see.”
“But don’t mind my rambling. Who knows, I might be completely wrong. You are too soft on the boy anyway.” Tsuchigomori guffawed as a tick mark appeared on Nene’s forehead.
“Don’t think too deep into it kid. Just make sure you don’t regret it.”
Nene sighed as she played with the ends of her hair. What would she do? No, she already knew what she was going to do.
>the next day
Hanako sighed, looking out the window, seeing other the trees shake in the wind instead of the usual commotion outside. The school was eerily empty because almost everyone had gone on the trip. Yashiro included. His eyes drooped as he stared as his tingly hands. The hands that would playfully squish her cheeks, the hands that would hold onto her as if she would disappear from his grasp. Her warm, warm body…
Hanako blinked and suddenly snapped out of his daze. Yashiro was right. Yashiro didn’t need to stay here with him. She was human. She was alive. She should be enjoying her life instead of staying here with him. But he sighed as he slumped into the wall, closing his eyes, taking in the silence. It will be quite lonely for a few days. Or so he thought.
“HANAKO-KUN!!!”
Hanako bolted upright as if electricity struck him. The Mokke lying around him were up and about as well, spouting but one word. 
“Yashiro.”
“Yashiro!”
“It’s Yashiro.”
Hanako rubbed his eyes as he strained his ears, wondering if he was hearing right.
“Jeez, Hanako-kun! You can look at me already!”
The ghost almost comically turned his neck around slowly, eyes widening as he gulped. Much to his surprise, it was her. Yashiro Nene in the flesh, lip jutting out as she pouted, hands on her hips, a bag at her daikon legs.
“Y-Yashiro? Why are you here-?”
“The real question is why you’re sitting here being all mopey! I thought you knew how to exist without me?” she huffed as she grabbed the bag at her feet.
Hanako, still in a shocked daze, floated over to her, pointing a finger at the bag. “And that is…?”
The girl slightly blushed. “I brought for you… I mean I brought it so I wouldn’t be bored staying at school!”
“Staying… at school? What about the trip?”
Nene sighed, staring at her feet and then glancing up at the curious boy. She gently tugged on his sleeve, ushering him closer to her.
“I… I decided not to go. I wanted to stay with you Hanako-kun… even though you can be really annoying sometimes. But… I think you’re good company.”
The boy blushed as he stared at the floor as well. His heart pounded in his chest at Nene’s words and he could feel her soft skin brushing against the palm of his hand. Hanako tried to compose himself, but he could barely bring himself to say anything. Nene squirmed in the awkward silence and tried to break it. Pulling her hand away, much to Hanako’s regret, she spoke.
“A-Anyway! I brought this so we can play together!” Nene quickly threw the bag to the side and pulled out a colorful box that read the word “MONOPOLY” in big letters.
“Moh-noh-poly?’
“No, it’s Mah-nah-poly!” Nene said trying to sound out the letters as best as possible. She giggled. “I’m surprised you don’t know this game, Hanako-kun!” Nene dropped to her legs and removed the cover of the box. Hanako followed, squatting down to peer at the game, his heart feeling touched and all tingly.
She unfolded the board and dumped the figures onto it. Hanako watched on curiously, as she squinted and counted what seemed to be like fake money.
“Here, Hanako-kun!”
Fake dollar bills landed in his hands as well as a small figurine as he closely inspected them. “The game is quite simple, Hanako-kun. You just have to walk around the board by rolling the dice and try to buy some buildings and stuff like that!”
“So… it’s kind of like a game of luck?”
The girl pressed a finger to her lips as she gazed upwards in thought. “Hmm, I guess you can say that too!”
Too cute, Hanako thought.
Hanako kept getting screwed over because every time he rolled the dice he always managed to land on something bad. The first time he landed on the “Jail” spot and had no idea until Nene started laughing at him and explained what it meant. He was not happy. Then he landed on one of her properties and had to pay rent, making him go broke. Hanako ends up going bankrupt quite a few times simply because he’s like?? Wtf is going on??? 
But uhh he gets used to it really fast. Like he actually gets really good at it. It’s almost scary how good he is at this kind of stuff when he’s serious. When he understands the rules and stuff he starts making Nene suffer by making her go into debt and buying all of her stuff. And Nene is literally devastated. She thought wow haha I’m actually better than Hanako-kun at this! Time to show him whose boss! Well, that only lasted for like fifteen minutes because soon enough Hanako was whooping her at Monopoly.
Yashiro ends up having to eat lunch at one point, luckily she packed her own lunch today. But alas, Hanako kept bugging her to get a bite of her cooking.
An irk mark appeared on the girl’s forehead as her clothes were being tugged on by a certain ghost.
“Yashiroooo! You know I haven’t eaten in years…” Hanako whispered in Nene’s ear, mimicking the sound of a stomach grumbling as he nudged his cheek with hers. She cringed, shoveling a portion of food into his mouth so he could shut up. Hanako nearly choked as he hit his chest in an effort to swallow it. 
“Are you happy now you idiot?” she huffed, stuffing her face with food as well.
It was actually pretty darn good, Hanako thought.
>the next day
Hanako eagerly floated around the girl’s bathroom waiting for the dual-colored hair girl. He had, quite indeed, grown fond of her, no, more than fond, whatever word that was. The naive girl who hopelessly pines after guys, the same one who managed to become a fish, the one with the adorable squishy cheeks he wished would look at him instead-
“Hanako-kun!!!”
The call of his name made him jump was again and before him was a pouty Yashiro.
“I’ve called your name like ten times, Hanako-kun!”
The boy blinked at her and a mischievous smile appeared on his face as he floated down to her level and placed both hands on her cheeks.
“Hmm… I was just thinking about a special someone ♡.”
She blushed as she swatted his hand away. H-Hanako-kun’s girlfriend! That’s who he must be thinking about!
“So what do ya got there today, Yashiro?”
“U-Uh! Oh yeah! The cards!” She smiled as she plopped down on the floor, taking a deck of cards out of the small box.
“Cards?” Hanako’s interest was piqued. 
“Yeah! Have you ever played Uno, Hanako-kun?
“Un-oh?”
“Ooh-no,” she corrected, patting the space across from her, inviting Hanako to sit.
“It’s really simple! You can place a card that has the same color or number as the one on top of the pile, and if you don’t have one you pick up. And you have to say ‘Uno!’ when you place your second to the last card-”
“So basically like Crazy 8?”
“You can say that. But there’s color in Uno!”
Nene got absolutely destroyed in Uno. That’s all that happened. I don’t know if y’all have noticed but Hanako tends to play cards with the Mokke pretty often. And he’s always calm and collected WHICH MEANS HE’S LIKE A MASTER AT CARD GAMES. That is what happens and no one is going to stop him from stomping. He drops so many +2 and +4 cards that Nene has practically the whole deck in her hand. He wins every single time. Nene probably gets a bit pouty at this because she’s like how??? This boomer literally just learned about the game like five minutes ago and?? He’s already kicking my ass at it??
Hanako may or may not lighten up his game if he sees Yashiro get upset but you know. He freaking loves doesn’t really want to see Yashiro sad. So he purposely lets the girl win because he honestly went 🥺when he saw her cheering and throwing her arms in the arm, celebrating.
>the next day
“Sorry, Hanako-kun… I don’t have a new game today…”
Hanako merely smiled as he tugged on her cheeks, turning her frown into a smile. “It’s-”
“That’s why I made this!” The girl grinned as she held a bag high in the air for both of them to gaze upon. 
“D-donuts!” Hanako’s face immediately glowed at the sight of the beautifully glazed donuts as he tried to grab them. Nene moved them out of the way as Hanako whined.
“Let’s go to the roof instead, Hanako-kun!”
--
“Finally, I can eat delicious donuts again!” Hanako cheered as he twirled around, holding the bag in the air.
The girl watched in amusement, settling down on the sheet as she poured tea into a cup. “Still a donut loving ghost, I see,” she giggled as she watched the boy scarf down the pastry. The boy sat down next to her, mouth full.
“Wow, thaft’s somfe real goof dofnuts!” he sighed with content, discarding the bag.
“Hanako-kun, that was for the both of us!” she frowned, peering at the bag. “Plus it’s not good for you to eat so quickly!” she scolded.
Hanako simply smiled at her, crumbs near his lips.
Nene’s eyes softened as she stared at the boy. “You’ve got some crumbs here, Hanako-kun,” she spoke softly, taking her thumb and brushing the crumbs off of his face. Hanako went red as he froze. Noticing his face becoming hot, she glanced at him to see how red he was. Then Nene realized what she was doing.
“Um! I-I was only helping you as a friend of course! You’re totally not my type!” she squealed, face burning as she tried to pull her hand away. But a hand gently caught her arm.
Hanako’s gaze was on the floor, his cheeks red. “Yashiro… these few days have been fun with you. And… and I’m glad you decided to stay with me,” he paused, unsure of how to phrase his words. “It’s been lonely-”
Nene tugged on his arm, smiling at him, not wanting feel like he was being forced to say anything. “Actually Hanako-kun… I’m glad I stayed too.” 
“Yashiro… can I ask why you stayed with me? 
“Well, because I like you, Hanako-kun!” 
“As a friend of course! Nothing more!!”
“You’ve said that already, Yashiro…”
“I don’t think the trip would have been too much fun anyway. I had lots of fun with you though!”
Hanako smiled at her words, cherishing the moment. He placed the palm of his hand on hers, and then slowly intertwined his fingers with hers. The girl didn’t protest and instead squeezed his hand, brushing her thumb over his.
How both of them wished this moment would last forever.
Hanako x Yashiro Nene (Hananene) Relationship HCS
If Hanako was alive, they would be the cutest couple in the school! It was actually a shock to most people that they started dating. Yes, Hanako would tease Yashiro on a daily basis but no one thought he was genuinely serious about a relationship with the girl. These two clowns love each very much though, everyone can see that! Now that they’re in an established relationship, Nene becomes more lenient on Hanako’s constant affection, which has increased a huge amount. Hanako is literally around Nene at all times, he won’t directly say it but he cannot bear to not be around this girl. He’s been alone and touch starved for so long, but now he finally has human contact that just fills his heart up with warmth. So yea whenever Nene is not around he’s just like :(.
Also one thing. You know how he calls her Yashiro? Well not anymore! “Nene-chan” time! Hanako never fails to fluster her when he says her first name, especially with the ‘chan’ part. But Nene gets her fair share of making Hanako blush as well. It’s mostly the little things Nene does that touches Hanako’s heart. Maybe it’s making donuts for him, or comforting him after a confrontation with Tsukasa. And whenever the daikon girl initiates affection first, he always gets a little flustered! And then he would tease her for becoming bold. He must be rubbing off on her.
Hanako is always there with her during class. So Nene becomes known as the girl who talks to thin air on a daily basis. She becomes a bit depressed at this but her boyfriend 100 percent cheers her up! The real problem is when Hanako has to be by himself on the weekends. Now that part crushed both of their heart’s especially Hanako’s. He has to wait in the empty school by himself, with only Mokke to keep him company. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way but he’s jealous. Jealous of everyone who can leave this damn building. How he just wants to leave but he can’t step foot out of the school. How he just wants Nene to be by his side forever.
Definitely nerds out with Nene about space and whatnot. He just never had anyone who would willingly listen to him ramble about space! And even though Nene may not understand half of it, she’ll always listen and nod her head. She thinks it’s cute when his eyes get all glowy and excited when he’s talking about something he likes. One of her favorite things to do is to just hold the boy’s hand. His hand is cold, unlike her warm one. But she tries her darn best to transmit her warmth to his body. Why? Because she freaking loves Hanako.
Even though Hanako is so touchy-feely he doesn’t say the words “I love you” quite as often. He’s just a lot better at expressing his feelings through actions than words. Plus he gets insanely flustered and red whenever he says the words, even more when Nene is the one to say it.
Hanako deeply cherishes Nene despite teasing her so often. The fact a murderer like him was able to find love is just, well, astonishing to him. Hanako loves her though, and he will do anything to keep her alive. He always knew that ghosts didn’t have a future but… perhaps with Nene by his side, his one didn’t look so dim anymore.
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aion-rsa · 4 years ago
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How Netflix’s The Irregulars fit in with Sherlock Holmes Canon
https://ift.tt/2PbmEsX
The titular “Irregulars” who star in the new eight-part Netflix series are total badasses, but outside of their shared team name, they are significantly different from the Baker Street Irregulars who originated in the pages of the Sherlock Holmes canon as written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This isn’t to say that The Irregulars defies the Holmes canon per se, but it does weave an alternate dimension of the 221B universe, one populated by a lot of elements we never saw in the classic Watson-narrated stories. In Doyle’s ‘The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire’ Sherlock debunks the existence of an undead bloodsucker, famously saying “Ghosts need not apply!” But in The Irregulars, ghosts and demons are everywhere, complete with a secret society of paranormal disciples (based on the real-world 19th century Order of the Golden Dawn).
This is a long-winded way of saying, the points of departure between The Irregulars and the canon of Doyle’s Holmes are numerous. Unlike Enola Holmes — in which you could squint and imagine those adventures lining up with the Doyle canon — The Irregulars is straight-up fanfic. That said, the inspirations for Bea, Jessie, Billy, Spike, and Leopold are found in a handful of legit old-school Sherlock Holmes stories. Here’s how the Netflix series comes from the canon of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and how it plays with that canon, too.
The Origin of the Baker Street Irregulars 
In the first two Sherlock Holmes novels (there are only four total) — A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of the Four — we’re introduced to some Dickensian street orphans whom Holmes calls “the Baker Street division of the detective police force.” Remember the Artful Dodger from Oliver Twist? That’s pretty much the Baker Street Irregulars; streetwise urchins who act as the “eyes and ears” of Sherlock Holmes in terms of what’s really going on out there in the world. This trope pops up in a lot of other fiction too, but it’s notable to mention that despite the famous name “Baker Street Irregulars,” this unofficial gang of children doesn’t appear in very many canonical Holmes stories, and we certainly don’t know many of their names. 
The term “Baker Street Irregulars” comes from the title of Chapter 8 in The Sign of the Four. In that novel, Holmes enlists the Irregulars in tracking the progress of a boat on the River Thames. One of the Irregulars is named “Wiggins,” who is their leader. Notably, in stories set eight years apart (A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of the Four) Wiggins is still the primary Irregular that Holmes deals with. This detail is just one of countless examples in the Doyle canon in which things just do not add up; such as the shifting location of Watson’s infamous war wound. In-universe fans (Watsonians) attribute these mistakes to a greater truth lurking below the surface of the stories; one that suggests that Watson actually repressed a lot of information in the telling of these tales. After all, Wiggins can’t be a young child for eight years! Then again, in The Irregulars, all the “kids” are much older than the ones who are described in the canon. We’re mostly dealing with teenagers now! So, the “ageless” Wiggins from the canon, is sort of a model for our contemporary irregulars in the Netflix show.
Read more
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Mycroft, Eudoria, Enola & Sherrinford: How FanFic Expands the Sherlock Holmes Family
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By Kayti Burt
Outside of those two Holmes novels, the only other story in which the Baker Street Irregulars are mentioned outright is in ‘The Adventure of the Crooked Man’ in which there’s a reference to one of the “Baker Street Boys,” and specifically a kid named Simpson. In ‘The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax’, there’s also a reference to Holmes’ “agency,” which, in some books — like The Sherlock Holmes Companion (Bramhall House, 1962) — is close enough to count. In The Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes has “Cartwright,” who is disguised as a country boy, and in ‘The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone,’ Holmes is assisted by a pageboy named Billy – the same name as Jojo Macari’s character in The Irregulars. So, if you count all of that, there are three novels, and three short stories that reference the gang; a total of six references. That’s not a lot! There are 56 Holmes short stories and four novels. Six references is nothing.
Then again, the evil Professor Moriarty is mentioned or appears in only three stories and novels (‘The Final Problem,’ ‘The Empty House,’ and The Valley of Fear) and you’ve totally heard of him, right? 
The Irregulars in The Irregulars
In the new Netflix show, the various Irregulars are employed by a slightly underhanded version of Dr. Watson. Because Holmes already uses another version of the Irregulars in A Study in Scarlet, you could imagine that this incarnation of the Irregulars could exist after that. Indeed, you could also imagine that everything in The Irregulars takes place at some point after ‘The Empty House,’ if you wanted to. Without giving away spoilers, the show presents a very different version of Sherlock Holmes who at one point says that he’s not really the man he used to be. 
The larger point is, none of the new Irregulars have direct analogs with the canon, and that’s okay. The show is clearly about these new characters and not really about Holmes at all. In this way, the Irregulars in the series are kind of like the Teen Titans and young leads Bea (Thaddea Graham) or Jessie (Darci Shaw) is like Robin, while Holmes is obviously a washed-up Batman. Who Watson is in this analogy isn’t clear, but you get it. 
The Legacy of the Baker Street Irregulars
Although the name is famous, The Irregulars presents the first time a ton of focus has been paid to this aspect of the Holmes canon. In the Benedict Cumberbatch-led Sherlock, the Irregulars became a network of homeless people that worked for Holmes. In the comedy film Without a Clue, Ben Kingsley’s Watson employed the Irregulars, but nothing like the way Royce Pierreson’s Dr Watson does in the new show. 
Perhaps the most famous example of the group is actually the group of adults who call themselves “Baker Street Irregulars.” In 1934, founded by Christopher Morely in New York, a huge literary club devoted to Sherlock Holmes dubbed itself “The Baker Street Irregulars.” Many famous authors have been members over the years including Nicholas Meyer, Isaac Asimov, and noted contemporary novelist, Lyndsay Faye. 
Author (and NBA star) Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is also a member of the Baker Street Irregulars and has written excellent novels (and graphic novels!) about Mycroft Holmes. In 2017 Abdul-Jabbar revealed his own BSI even helped him win basketball games back in the day. “I even had my own Baker Street Irregulars,” he said in 2017. “I started paying special attention to the conversations among the ball boys and other staffers. When I overheard a couple ball boys joking about how Bob Lanier and his coach would smoke in the locker room at halftime, I decided to run Bob up and down the court as fast as I could in the second half.”
So there you have it. From one of the oldest fandom organizations on the planet to the eyes and ears of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the moniker “Irregulars” has a lot to live up to. Luckily, this new squad YA heroes is totally up to it.
cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });
The Irregulars is streaming now on Netflix.
The post How Netflix’s The Irregulars fit in with Sherlock Holmes Canon appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3u11mNv
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sevi007 · 6 years ago
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Gifted to @rex101111 and @fuckoland, for always listening to my ideas and giving me that last little push of confidence I so often need when writing. Thank you both so much. =D
Spoilers for DMC 5
Summary: Finding a way back to himself, back to his brother, and out of Hell - Vergil learns that those had been the easier parts of his new journey. Because redemption is not simply offered on a silver plate, and bonds take time to forge. But Nero might just be worth all of that.
Warnings: Uh, swearing, cause it’s Nero, and probbaly a bit OOC-ness on Vergil’s side (first time writing him, and he’s a difficult fella, I tell you)
Word Count: 7227
                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Fortuna.
Of all the places he had been to in his life, this city was not one he had expected to return to one day, with his business here finished and other goals to be chased.
Ah, but you didn’t think you would return to anything, a tiny voice in his mind mocked, sounding suspiciously like the croak of a bird. Didn’t think you would come back from this last fight, did’cha, boy?
Vergil scowled into the sky before him, banning the voice – memory, ghost, whatever it was – back into his subconsciousness. No more of this. I woke up from you.
Part of him expected a reply still. Waited for the flutter of wings, the pressure of claws on his shoulder, mocking and taunting in his ear. It didn’t come. Of course it didn’t, he told himself sternly, that part of him was gone, chased away like dark dreams in the morning sun.
 The only noise left behind was the avid chatter and laughter drifting up from the garden stretched down below. People talking over each other, laughing together. The sound of cutlery being set on tables, glasses clinking and chairs and tables being pushed together to make room for everyone, interspersed with easy chats.
Below him, life continued on, as if nothing had happened. As if they hadn’t all been in danger of being wiped of this earth mere months ago.
Easy companionship. High spirits. Celebrating their return from Hell, had been said, but he had the hunch that these people did not really need a reason to sit together and celebrate, if they felt like it.
 Nero had seemed at ease in the middle of things. Not as open and enthusiastic about it as the girl (Kyrie, Vergil recalled, the name not easily forgotten due to her very resolute reception of him upon his return). But still, the young man had easily greeted the various people who had showed up, accepting hugs and pats readily, striking up conversations freely.
It shouldn't have been a surprise. The boy considered these people friends, most of them family, even.
Vergil, on the other hand, must have counted for neither of those options.
 He had left (not fled, never fled, he told himself) the scene at the earliest chance, when not too many people had been looking. Had chosen the highest point of the house’s roof as his refuge, to watch attentively and think.
Bright blue eyes had followed him, he knew, had all but burned into his back, but he had ignored it. If his brother wanted something from him, he would find him. Not even the deepest depths of hell or the highest point of a cursed tree had stopped his brother before. A roof would be a joke in comparison.
 A deep voice started a sing-song right behind him, words full of mockery and taunt, “Vergil, Vergil, sitting on a roof, K-I-S-S-I-…”
Speak of the devil.
“If you keep that up,” Vergil warned without even turning around. “I will stab you. Again.”
“Aaaah,” Dante nodded wisely while he dropped beside his brother, legs dangling dangerously over the edge for the blink of an eye until he shifted and settled. Sprawled out leisurely, he flapped a hand at the other. “Still pissed cuz I one-upped you, I see.”
“Your counting is getting worse. I am currently leading.”
“Pfffft, sure, bro, sure.”
 A fall from the roof, Vergil reflected, would sadly not do his twin any harm, even if he put all his strength into giving him a much needed push.
“Did you want something, Dante?”
Dante hummed non-committally, lounging so close to the edge it was a miracle gravity didn’t take hold of him yet. He didn’t start talking – which, probably, was the most ironic thing the more talkative of the two could have done.
Finally, Vergil’s finger already twitching as he went over the idea with the push again, Dante spoke up. “You know, I would have figured you would at least try before running again.”
Pretense would not work, not on him, but Vergil tried, anyway, eyes closing as he summoned whatever calmness he still had left. “No one is running from anything, dear brother.”
“Dear brother. You only call me that when you’re seriously out of it. And you don’t even mean it.”
“I do wonder why that is.”
“So, you’re running,” Dante ignored the comment which dripped with sarcasm, going in for the kill instead, “Because how I see it is - you’re up here, and the kid is down there, so do tell me how you guys are gonna talk this out?”
 Of course. Vergil closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, the prospect of a trusty nightmare at his side was more enticing than having his twin here instead. Then again, there was not much difference between the two. “What should we talk out, in your opinion?”
“Hm, let me think about that…,” Dante drawled. “Right. Perhaps that he’s your son? Happy Father’s Day, by the way. I think you missed a few of those in the last years.”
“You are simply stating a fact. There is nothing to discuss about it.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Vergil, I thought we talked about this - at least give the kid a chance to get to know you, you stubborn asshole.”
Avoiding the other’s gaze when he could all but taste the disappointment in his words was no longer possible, and Vergil glanced over, feeling horribly tired. “I am not who he remembers.”
“Well, yeah,” Dante stared back at him, slightly askance, fully exasperated. “Not much he could remember, with you being phenomenally absent for… eh. All his life?”
The urge to snap And whose fault is that? was there, clawing at his insides like a living beast. Vergil swallowed it down, forced himself to think No.
 He had been the one too blind, not Dante. He had been the one to jump head first, without thinking of what exactly he was possibly leaving behind.
It had taken him breaking apart to put together what mistakes he had made. He would not forget again.
 One breath, two, three, and the urge subsided. He was getting better at ignoring that old, bitter part of himself which tried to convince him everything was his twin’s fault. A reflex honed over years, and not easily unlearned now. He fought to banish it, dispatching it every day a bit more, with each interaction with his… his family.
Family.
That particular word would take some time to get used to.
 Dante was still watching him, expectant and accusing at the same time, he knew, yet Vergil didn’t meet his gaze. There was nothing he could say in his defense, and the only explanation for his statement was one Dante wouldn’t understand.
He didn’t even understand it fully, himself. He only knew that there was… something. Something which was his, but not quite. Memories in his mind, fuzzy things, like a nice dream he once had and now couldn’t recall clearly. A part of him that remembered a helping hand, a shoulder offered to lean on, a now-familiar becoming voice reminding him to rest, to take it easy. Remembered the relief that came with it, with having someone to count on, to trust.
There was a man who remembered Nero as something more than a stranger.
 (- “V you gotta rest” - )
 (- “I guess I owe you one.” -)
 (- the tool, the last hope, the boy, Nero, Nero-)
 (Why had his first thought upon reassembling the halves of his very being been to thank this boy, someone who had been a stranger to him then? It had been there, the words right on the tip of his tongue, stronger than the old urge to win and proof himself right. His heart had beat and beat and beat, each thrum a whisper of You remember him, you do, you do…)
 But he wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t remember. Not really. Not himself.
Tche, and not gonna do anything about that, are ya?
This time, his hand nearly twitched upwards to shove someone off his shoulder – before he noticed there was nothing to shove at. No feathers nor claws, no sharp beak pecking him for trying.
Deliberately, he lowered his hand again, balling it into a fist to keep it where it was.
 If Dante had noted his sudden movement, he did not to comment on it. Instead the younger rolled around with a grunt, away from the edge, and stood in a way that somehow managed to be casual yet graceful. Stretching with a loud yawn, Dante squinted into the setting sun for a moment – only to turn and kick his brother in the lower back. Hard. “That’s for being an obstinate asshole.”
Vergil grunted, glared, but didn’t so much as budge or fight back. “Obstinate. I’m surprised you even know what that means.”
The grin Dante sent him back was more teeth than anything else, eyes a hard glint to them. “Good thing the kid is better in this whole family department than we both are, jackass. He isn’t going to let you off the hook that easily.”
 It took Vergil a second to make the connection, and once he did, he nearly cursed out loud, out of character as it was. Head swiveling around, he did indeed catch sight of the young man standing at a distance, balanced on top of the roof as if gravity didn’t concern him, hands shoved into his pockets and watching the twins with a slight frown.
Nero noticed his gaze and lifted a hand in greeting after an awkward, fidgety pause. He stood ramrod straight, shoulders tense and clearly uncomfortable – but also like someone on a mission, not ready to back down a single step, jaw set and head held high.  
 Vergil hadn’t felt him coming, much less heard, too caught up in the presence of his twin… which probably had been the plan all along.
Much to his displeasure, Dante proved to be immune to his death glare, shrugging at him. “Told you. Not off the hook.”
“You just can’t mind your own business, can you.”
“You knew that already,” and then, all casualness was gone. Dante moved with the speed of a striking demon, too fast for the human eye, and all of sudden he was there, right in Vergil’s space, hand on his twin’s shoulder like a vice, forehead to forehead, blue boring into blue. “Listen up here, Vergil – no idea what’s going on in that head of yours, but Nero is not me. He is not you. I learned that the hard way, and you will have to learn that, too. So whatever got you all stuck up about this; get over it, and quick. You’re not gonna get an endless amount of chances, capisce? You already got a lot more than others did. ”
Instinctively and beyond his control, Vergil tried to avoid the gaze burning into his, only to find that it was impossible, partly because of the hand on his shoulder like a steel shackle, partly because of the sheer intensity in those eyes. Trapped and backed into a corner, he ground out between clenched teeth, “I know that.”
“Oh, good.”
In the blink of an eye, Dante had backed off again, rocking back with the biggest grin on his face, hands put on his hip as if nothing had happened just now. A quick glance over to Nero – the younger still kept a respectful distance, staring off into the distance now as if this did not concern him – and Dante got serious again, voice low, “Like I said – he’s better at this than we are. He’s better than you. Better than me. So get a move on and try, you deadbeat of a father.”
Then, softer, but no less stern. “He deserves it. Don’t fuck this up, Verge.”
 With one last salute, mocking through and through, Dante turned and wandered off, leaving Vergil behind to comprehend everything that had been flung at him. Dimly, the older of the two noted how Dante stopped when he reached Nero, clapping the younger on the shoulder with a bright grin. A quick conversation, an eyeroll from Nero followed by an elbow into the elder’s rips, answered with a loud, bellowing laugh from the man. Then they separated again, pushing past each other gently.
Dante jumped off the roof without looking back once.
 Vergil turned to look out over the city again (not much had changed, he noted, even if his memory of it was blurred and apparently the place had seen some rebuilding after demon attacks).
He made a point out of not looking, not checking what Nero would do. Cursing to himself for getting tricked into this so easily.
Quiet footsteps resounded, firm, not hesitating. They stopped next to him, before Nero lowered himself to sit beside him, feet dangling over the edge.
 They sat in silence for a while, Nero’s gaze wandering down to the group in the garden, then over the city that had been his home all his life.
Then, finally, the younger spoke up, “You didn’t come over to greet us.”
Teeth grinding together for a second (not even straight to the point), Vergil tightened his shoulders, pulling himself up straight. “There were enough others to do so.”
“Right. Sure. So, what now? You avoiding your own party?”  
“This party has nothing to do with me.”
“Yeah?” Now there was sharpness to Nero’s voice, even though he had tried to sound casual before. “The whole thing is about celebrating you guys getting back out of Hell alive. Would think that does concern you.”
Something cracked inside of Vergil – too many people trying to talk to him when all he wanted was silence to sort his thoughts, too many suspicious looks, too many voices in his mind not his own, too many decisions to make – and he snapped, ice lacing his words, “And me being alive is something to celebrate for you, yes?”  
“After I busted my ass off to keep you dumbasses alive?” Nero’s voice had risen for a second, before he seemed to remember that there where people down there who could hear him. Obviously restraining himself through sheer willpower alone, he finished in a hiss, “Yes, dammit, it is.”
 It should have made him angry, this child speaking in such a manner to him. The flaming gaze and bared teeth and balled fists should have put him on defense.
Surely, Vergil reflected, angry and confused at himself, surely this simple, angrily thrown out statement shouldn’t have made him feel relieved.
 (You remember him, you do, you do…)
 He closed his eyes against the heady, unfamiliar rush of emotions, willing them back, back into a heart that beat stronger and steadier than it had in years, demanding to be heard in a way he hadn’t felt in decades.
Better get this over with, before he did something stupid, Vergil thought – and took the leap. “If you have something to say, then speak.”
 “I still think you’re a damn asshole.”
 The words were quick, blurted out in such a rush as if they had wanted to come out of their own volition. For a second, Nero himself looked as if he was surprised by his outburst, before he frowned, turning away. He talked to the skyline instead, probably unaware of the way Vergil stared at the back of his head as he went. “I mean… fuck. Fuck, you cut my damn arm off! And you tried to kill Dante, who… who tries to kill their own brother?! That’s not even all you did – fuck, you, just – fuck you, okay?! Fuck you, for all the shit you tried to pull. But, Dante, me… You did that to your own family, you dick, you don’t just… you don’t just do that. Okay? It’s fucked up, that’s what it is. You’re fucked up.”
Silence settled between them, charged and heated, only interrupted by Nero’s heavy breathing, as if the young man had just fought a tough battle and was out of breath for it.
 Then, just when Vergil had half a mind to up and leave (clearly, the boy had said what he had to say know, right, this was it, this was over) Nero breathed in deeply, a hitching sound, before letting it out again in a hiss. When he spoke, his shoulders had lost some of their tension, and he seemed to ponder something. “But… like a friend of mine said not too long ago… without you, I wouldn’t be here. You’re my family. And I know there’s more to you than all that.”
 Too late, much too late, did Vergil realize that Nero’s gaze had dropped to something in the younger’s hand, gripped tightly but carefully.
All his anger evaporated as he caught sight of it - the old, slightly battered book gleamed golden in the light of the setting sun. A soft spot left wide open for all to see.
No.
Left in good, caring hands.
 (- “Hold onto that until then” -)
 As if sensing the elder’s gaze, Nero snapped up and around – eyes so bright they were nearly luminous, brows furrowed, the book raised like a weapon. A proof. Voice like steel, he repeated, “I know there is more to you.”
They stared at each other, blue into blue, nothing between them apart from a book and a decision. Nero looked like he dared him to disagree, to deny what he had just said.
Vergil found that he couldn’t do so.
 And finally, when the denial didn’t come, Nero seemed to come to a decision. Nodding to himself, he all but jabbed a finger of his free hand against Vergil’s chest, not heading the fact that the older didn’t budge and merely lifted a quizzical eyebrow at him.
“So this is how this show is going to go from now on – you fucked up big time. And I saved your ass more than once. You owe me,” there was a hint of knowing and smugness in Nero’s expression, and Vergil had a sense of déjà-vu, since that looked all too familiar, “You said so yourself. In fact, I would say you owe me several times over, asshole. That’s one ripped off arm, at least two times I saved your sorry ass, and I’m pretty sure there’s more. Would say that means you have some redeeming to do.
And you will,” now, Nero’s voice was sharp and unforgiving, eyes blazing as he jabbed again, not minding the twitch in Vergil’s face. “Because, again – you owe me.”
 For a moment, Vergil was struck speechless. There would have been a time, once, when this young one talking to him in such a way would have made him furious, would have had anger roar inside of him like wildfire.
It didn’t come, this time. Because the boy was right. He did owe him, had said so himself. If he broke his word now, Vergil knew with certainty, then he would never get another shot at… this. At getting to know Nero, the person he had caught glimpses off and had been proud of.
And that person - his son - wouldn’t let him off the hook, not that easily.
 Vergil felt a smirk stretch over his face, respect and amusement flickering inside him. “Did you already plan on how this… redemption is supposed to go, as well?”
Narrowing his eyes, Nero mulled the answer over, the gaze sweeping over his opposite calculating. Finally, he snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms, chin raised. “You’re going to help with the rebuilding of Red Grave City, for starters. I don’t care how – if you send money for repairs over or fucking lay bricks yourself to rebuild, your decision. That destruction was your fault, and you will make up for that.”
His breath was momentarily knocked out of Vergil at the prospect of having to see that city again – roots of his he had believed to be unrooted now – before he nodded jerkily, teeth clenched.
Satisfaction gleamed in Nero’s eyes. He seemed to grow surer about this the longer the other didn’t disagree. “Next of – fucking stop trying to kill Dante.”
“That,” Vergil pointed out, almost mildly, “we have already stopped.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, don’t start it again. It’s bullshit, and I would just have to beat you guys up again,” Nero waved it off, clearly disinterested in hearing any more about it. Missing the way Vergil’s lips twitched into a grin for the blink of an eye. “And – turn it down with the asshole attitude. Not saying you gotta become a damn saint here, but nobody here is trying to slit your throat in your sleep, so stop acting like it.”
There was probably no point in telling the younger that he wasn’t all that sure if nobody ever at least felt the urge to do just that to him, so Vergil simply nodded mutely in response to that before, “Anything else?”
 “A lot, probably,” Nero answered without missing a beat. “We will see about that when we get there.”
Vergil huffed, amused despite himself.
Nero looked him up and down again, considering. Then his posture relaxed slightly, forearms resting easily on his knees, shoulders slumping. “You’re actually not complaining about it.”
“Would it change anything?” A frown pulling at his expression, Vergil rolled his eyes. The quiet awe in Nero’s voice about that fact did not feel good at all. Had he not thought that Vergil would at least try?
“Nah. Just thought you would try to bargain at least.”
“I do not bargain about things,” Vergil frowned at the thought – well, perhaps there had been times where he should have done so. “I face what comes my way.”
“Head first through walls, huh?”
“I’ve been told I can be stubborn before, if you meant to imply that.”
At that, Nero laughed, quiet and deep. It was a surprisingly joyful sound nonetheless, and touched something in Vergil that he had thought long gone.  
 When Nero looked back up, past him and upwards, he was fully relaxed, eyes crinkling in silent amusement. “Hey, I just thought about something else you could do.”
Barely holding back a groan – did the younger have a list of deeds for him? – Vergil tilted his head in the other’s direction, signaling he was listening.
Nero kept his gaze on the sky above them, biting down on a smirk while he scratched his nose, pretending to think. “You know, I could use some help doing the dishes later.”
Vergil could feel his eyebrow twitching up in obvious surprise before he could stop it – the lapse in his expression clearly noted, since Nero’s smirk widened. At least his voice was still under his control, flat and cool as he more stated than asked, “The dishes.”
“You heard me.”
“You are not serious.”
“This is how I sound when I’m serious. You better get used to it real quick.” Nero must have noticed the disbelief on Vergil’s face, for he smirked, shoulders moving in what could have been a tiny shrug or suppressed laughter. “You did see how many people we invited, right? And Dante eats for three. There’s going to be a lot of dishes, and I’m not gonna do it alone.”
 Vergil could only stare at this curious young man (son, family, his), who surely must be mocking him right now.
Who could have, should have put him down, should have torn into him, should have- he should have hated him.
The younger could have asked anything of him, in his debt as he was.
And he asked him to do inane chores.
 “He’s better than you. Better than me.”
 Was that… was that an offering? A chance?  
His mind drew blank as to what he should do with this information, this turn of events.
 “Don’t fuck this up, Verge.”
 The rest of him, however, seemed to know, deep down. There was a mixture of warmth and something else, bright and strong, spreading through him, curling gently in his chest as if to stay there permanently.
Vergil didn’t feel like analyzing it. Not right now, at least.
 He closed his eyes, tilted his face towards the setting sun. For the first time since taking this place high above the buzzing, lively group down in the garden, he felt the warmth on his face, the breeze caressing through his hair. Free enough of the thoughts repeating over and over in his head that he could pay attentions to the world around him again.
“Very well, then,” he conceded at last.
“Yeah?” He couldn’t see it, but the smirk in Nero’s voice palpable. “Alright, sweet. Counting on you.”
 This time, the silence that settled between them held no anger, only a sense of calm.
Only to be interrupted from an outside source a minute later.
 “GUYS!”
 They both looked down to see Nico waving up at them with one arm, her free hand cupped before her mouth as a makeshift megaphone.
“What?!” Nero bellowed back.
“GET DOWN HERE, FOOD IS GONNA BE READY SOON!”
“If it’s not ready yet, there’s no need to yell at us already!”
“MOVE YOUR ASS, YOU HANDSOME DEVIL!”
 “I told you not to call me that,… oh fuck’s sake,” Nero sighed, even though it didn’t sound sincere, and rock back and forth to push himself to his feet in one fluid motion. Clapping some dust off, he hesitated, gaze flickering down to where Vergil was still sitting. “You, ah. You coming?”
Gesturing vaguely, Vergil shook his head. “In a minute.”
“Suit yourself. But I’m not bringing you any food up here.”
It was a good thing Nero had already turned away, else he might have caught the little upwards twitch of Vergil’s lips in response.
 Vergil, however, saw full well how Nero gingerly, almost tenderly, held the book full of poems against his chest as he made to leave, thumb caressing over the thin spine mindlessly.
It was a kind of care Vergil remembered clearly, from days long gone – days spent in libraries and bookshops, surrounded and soothed by bound pages and written words. And the books he had been most careful with had been those… Those he knew and loved.
“You read it.”
The question – statement – seemed to throw Nero for a second. He turned, gaze following that of the older back to the book, and realization dawned. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips (tugged at Vergil’s loud, demanding heart) as he ducked his head a little.
Scratching his cheek, Nero shook his head, “Didn’t finish. Missing a few poems yet.”
He must have misread something in Vergil’s expression, since he coughed lightly, scratching again, not meeting the other’s eyes. “I might have read a few of them multiple times. That takes time, okay.”
A quick glance over at the older, then Nero frowned, seeming to realize something. “What, you want it back? I mean, it’s yours, so…”
“Keep it.”
 Nero halted in his movement, the hand offering the book halfway extended, eyebrows arched. Staring.
Vergil wasn’t much better off, surprised that he heard himself speak so quickly, so thoughtlessly. He clucked his tongue – at himself or Nero, he wasn’t sure – and gestured at the book between them. “Missing a few, you said. You should not leave things unfinished. It does not… seem to be your style.”
A beat, two… then something flickered over Nero’s face, the shift too quick for Vergil to analyze. Eyes narrowing then widening, before a slow, warm smile stretched over the young man’s face, growing into a crooked grin.
 (It was the first time he had the younger see truly smile in his vicinity, part of Vergil noted.)
 “Yeah, well,” Nero said, slowly, smile still there and softening his expression into something warm and open. He pulled the book back, safely tucking it into his jacket again. “Guess I inherited a stubborn streak from someone. Don’t do well with giving up halfway through.”
Processing that for a second, Vergil huffed, shaking his head as he turned away from the younger. “I see.”
Retreating steps could be heard, and Nero called over his shoulder. “Don’t let the food get cold.”
 Vergil waited until he sensed that he had been left alone on the roof, before allowing himself to breathe out, deep and slow.
His heart beat steady and strong.
No urge to blame, to fight, to leave. No drive to chase after faraway goals.
Only quiet and peace.
                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Maybe his disappearance hadn’t gone as unnoticed as he had thought, since there where very obvious reactions once Vergil tried to slip back into the middle of things without being seen. People fell silent in the middle of their sentence, heads turned and gazes followed him about.
 Opting to ignore them, he straightened and made his way past them, keeping his attention on getting something to eat. Behind him, the conversations picked up again, yet he could feel the prickle of being watched every now and then, the hairs at his neck rising under the scrutiny, skin feeling itchy and tight due to it.
He didn’t let it show, didn’t let it deter him. Used the satisfied little curl of Nero’s lips once the younger spotted him in the crowd as his guide instead.
At least to the young man, he was welcome here. That would have to be enough for now.
 He walked along the table that obviously served as the buffet, almost buckling under its load of an assortment of different food. Passing the stack of pizza cartons, smirk twitching around his lips at the sight, he halted, considered his options, and settled on some pasta, filling one of the plates at hand to the brim much like he had seen the other guests do.
For a moment, he almost forgot about the people around him, until a soft voice addressed him. “Vergil?”
 A gentle hand on his elbow, the touch soft and light, stopped him in his tracks, more efficiently than any foe could ever had. He dropped his gaze to the fingers resting on him – asking for attention, not demanding, not restricting – and followed the length of the slender arm, up to Kyrie’s face.
She was smiling, eyes soft and warm with… amusement, of all the things. “I just wanted to tell you - don’t mind what Nero said.”
Alerted, Vergil narrowed his eyes at her, pondering what she could have heard of their conversation. It had not been all that personal, yet still it was… more than he felt comfortable with, to share with a stranger.
Kyrie blinked, before she laughed, raising a hand to her mouth to smother it. “Oh, no, I wasn’t listening in! I meant about the help with the dishes. Nero told me about it. You don’t have to do that of course - you’re our guest, after all.”
 She didn’t mention any of the other demands Nero had made, even though Vergil was suddenly very sure that she knew about those, too. Even to him, it had been clear how close those two were, how much his son counted on the strong partner by his side, and vice versa.
Yet it was not her place to discuss those with him, and she knew that as well. He felt a sudden respect for this young woman well up in him, impressed by her loyalty to Nero.
 Shoulders relaxing minutely, Vergil was about to answer, when it abruptly occurred to him that she had read his thoughts easily that, simply from his expressions. How curious and… confusing. Carefully schooling his face back into a neutral expression, voice quiet, he murmured lowly, “It is of… it is no trouble.”
Of no matter, seemed wrong, he reflected, for it felt like it did, simple a task as it was.
Kyrie examined his expression, pursing her lips – only to start smiling again after a moment. “Alright, if you say so…”
“Hm.”
“… then, thank you in advance.”
The hand on his arm squeezed lightly before she pulled away, turning to survey the buffet. Taking up a plate and selecting a menu for herself, she smiled one last time at him, looking him straight in the eye, clearly happy when he inclined his head ever so slightly at her. And then she was gone again, easily weaving through people who made way for her.
Vergil watched her reach Nero at the other side of the garden. Watched still as Kyrie rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek, causing a bright smile to stretch over his face while he leaned down to murmur something into her ear, causing loud, happy laughter to echo over the little crowd. Was still watching as Kyrie picked something of her plate to offer it for Nero to eat…
 Something old and long forgotten steered in Vergil’s memory –peaceful days, when father had come back home, carrying with him presents and tales. Mother’s eyes that had shone bright with laughter as her husband lifted her and twirled her around. Evenings spent curled together, four bodies all but wrapped around each other while father’s deep voice told them stories of places far away, and mother’s laughing protests when the stories got too adventurous and bloody rang out, even though the twins had fake-pouted for more.
This… this little scene he was witnessing here was a private scene, achingly familiar and yet something he was a stranger to. Suddenly feeling like an intruder, Vergil resolutely turned his back on the pair and walked away, aiming for the table that had been set up in a corner of the garden.
 Much to his displeasure – at least he told himself so – Dante had already found his way to the table as well. Feet kicked up onto a corner of the wooden surface, arms crossed behind his head and rocking dangerously on the back legs of the chair, his twin grinned up way too smugly at him as he approached. “What did I catch back there? You, doing chores?”
Not dignifying with an answer what the other obviously knew already, Vergil picked a seat nearly at the opposite end of the table, getting comfortable.
“Kid must really have kicked your ass if you agreed to that.”
“He had good arguments to base his demands on. In fact, this part was the easiest one,” Vergil relented, ducking his head to hide his own smirk as Dante laughed at that. “He will make me work for it.”
“As he should. Good kid.”
Nothing in Dante’s voice gave the feeling as if he was joking with that comment, only fondness and respect audible when one listened close enough – knew him well enough.
And Vergil found himself agreeing with it. There would be a lot to do and atone for, yet… the reward might just be worth it. He considered the situation he found himself in in silence for a while, and came to a conclusion. “… I will. Work for it, that is.”
Will work to make it right, was left unsaid.
“Yeah?” Dante tilted his head to look at his twin, blinking in surprise, then grinned brightly and turned away again. “Good for him. For you both.”
“Hm-hm.”
 “Would you look at these guys,” an amused voice cut between them, both twins turning as Trish approached, carrying a glass and nothing else with her. “They started without us.”
“Rude,” announced Lady, skipping past the blonde woman and around the table to look for a seat herself. “Must run in the family.”
“Okay, you take that back,” Nero shot back, snorting to himself as he observed the table. Behind him, the rest of the guests followed. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Fine, leaving you out of this one.”
“Thank you so much.”
 “Okay, just to make this clear,” Dante announced, letting his chair fall back into a horizontal position  and leaning over the table to accept the plate Kyrie handed him with a cheeky wink and mischievous grin. “I want a new, clean plate for every pizza I eat. No cartons. We got to give Mister Dishwasher here something to do.”
Vergil looked up from his plate just enough to send another inefficient glare in his twin’s direction. He received a toothy grin for his troubles. Figures.
“Dante, don’t be a di-…,” Nero stopped himself, eyes flickering to Kyrie who hid a smile behind her hand, before he turned back to scowl at Dante, “Don’t. Just, don’t.”
“Aw com’ on, kid…”
“No.”
“It’s just fun! Good ol’ fun between…”
“I’m going to punch you again, old man.”
Dante closed his mouth abruptly with a quiet click of teeth, leaning back with his plate and one hand raised in surrender.
 The gesture of submission drew a bout of laughter from the people around them. Trish was grinning so brightly it must have hurt, and Lady was hooting with mirth. Even Kyrie was shaking with barely withheld laughter.
Morrison wiped away at tear before clapping Nero on the back, who looked up a bit perplexed, but ultimately grinned back. “Kid, I’ve never seen someone shut this guy down like that. Respect!”
“Hey, his bitch slaps hurt!” Dante protested. “Nearly killed me with that one!”
“Oh god,” Lady sniffled, still giggling. “I wish I could have seen that.”
“Nero, next time, give us a call beforehand,” Trish added, hand on Nero’s elbow as she leaned over to him. “We have to see that.”
“Sure, deal.”
“Probably went like…,” Nico imitated being slapped in the face and falling over with dramatic flailing, earning another round of laughter. She resurfaced with one hand propped on the table, laughing so hard she was nearly crying. “S-Sorry, sorry, that was just too good to pass up.”
“Okay, okay, we get it, punching me in the face is funny ….”
“It is,” Nero interrupted, eyes dancing with laughter. “It really is.”
Glowering at the younger, Dante stuffed a slice of pizza whole into his mouth, chewing near defiantly on it. The muttered “Punk.” was almost lost in cheese and tomato sauce.
 “Alright, boys, no more fighting,” Kyrie announced, hands on her hips, fondness in her voice and smile on her lips. “We will enjoy our dinner together in peace.”
“Hear, hear!”
“That peace is gonna last two minutes, max.”
“The lady of the house has spoken, everybody shove some food into your mouth and shut up.”
“I can do that.”
“We know you can.”
“Was that a jab at my healthy appetite?”
“Nothing healthy about that, old friend.”
 The chatter started up again easily, quips and jabs flying left and right, gentle shoves and punches being dished out while everyone laughed and talked over each other, all the while taking seats and getting comfortable. In all the ruckus, it seemed to be forgotten that one of them was more stranger than friend, the good mood and company easing any suspicion for the time being.
Vergil found himself sandwiched between Dante’s old partner Morrison, who nodded at him before turning around to strike up a conversation with Trish, and Nico, who was so caught up in explaining a new gun to Lady she didn’t even seem to notice who sat on her other side, exactly. Dante was talking with his mouth full, getting whacked over the head by Trish for it and laughing, the sound muffled, looking unapologetic to boot. A few of the children living with Nero and Kyrie were still running around the table, laughing loudly, rushing from one of the adults to the other to ask for stories about their demon hunting adventures.
 It was an absolute mess, and noisier than Hell itself, but the urge to stand up and leave for peace and quiet never came, much to Vergil’s surprise. Deciding that was just as well, he tasted a bit of the food before him.
He actually had to pause and savor the bite for a second, flavors bursting on his tongue. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten anything this savory.
 “Hey, can anyone pass the pepper?” Nero’s voice rose above the ruckus, but he was still mostly unheard, everyone too caught up in something else.
It wasn’t even a conscious move, but Vergil had already reached out and handed the item across the table to his opposite before it really registered with him, making him pause in the middle of it.
Nero looked just as perplexed as he felt for the blink of an eye. Then surprise made way for a crooked grin as he accepted the shaker “Thanks… father.”
Vergil didn’t find any words to offer, mouth suddenly dry as his gaze met Nero’s, the same blue eyes as his own looking back at him without any sort of resentment – simply warmth.
 There would be a lot to do and atone for, and yet… yet…
The reward would be so, so worth it.  
 “So,” Nico piped up, startling both men out of their silence and then drawing the attention of everyone towards her. “Are we supposed to do a toast at this kind of thing? Like, hey real neat that you didn’t die or somethin’?”
“You have a way with words,” Nero grumbled, leaning back. There was still a smile stuck in a corner of his mouth, and he couldn’t seem to stop it.
“Ah, you’re one to talk, smartass.”
“I think a toast is a great idea,” Kyrie interrupted the argument before it could even start. Raising her glass, she offered, “To Dante and Vergil?”
“Aw, don’t make me blush, kiddo,” Dante gave back, fluttering his eyelashes that made Trish snort loudly next to him. “How about – good to be back?”
“Still alive and kicking!” Lady offered, raising her own glass.
“To new beginnings?”
“To being too though to die!”
“To good food.”
 “To family.”
 Heads turned, surprised gazes straying to Nero, who held his glass high above his head, looking somewhere between amused and embarrassed.
“That’s a great idea,” Kyrie agreed, sending a soft smile his way that made Nero’s shoulder relax visibly.
 “Yes.”
Vergil didn’t blink as all those gazes now snapped towards him, openly staring at him as if nobody could believe that this single word had just come out of his mouth. He ignored them, focused fully on Nero opposite of him as he reached over and lifted his own glass to tip it towards the younger in silent acknowledgement.
The smile on Nero’s face widened, bright and sincere, and all the perplexed staring in the world could stop Vergil from feeling his heart grew lighter than it had been since he was a child.
 It was Dante who spoke next, breaking the silence and bafflement by declaring, swinging his own glass up. “Best idea I’ve heard in a long while. To family!”
That seemed to break the spell over the group, and everyone laughed, cheered, agreed with bright smiles on their faces as they reached for their own glasses. Somewhere next to Vergil, Nico announced “You guys are gonna make me cry” and Nero laughed loudly at that, head thrown back, and even Vergil smiled, unseen in all the commotion.
 “To family!”
“Yeah!”
“CHEERS!”
 Their combined voices, united in one bright, happy shout, could be heard over half the city.
88 notes · View notes
hyacinthetic · 7 years ago
Text
( translation ) natsume yuujinchou - july 2017 chapter
no images below the cut: text only. obviously don’t read if you mind spoilers.
the caveat emptor bullshit:
this is a very rough translation. by no means do i recommend relying on this text for subtle language nuances or foreshadowing. but if you're into hoarding spoilers like i am, this script is for you.
i've translated "同門的人" as "clansfolk", because the closest i could come to the phrase in english was "fellow", and that's such a stupid word. "人首的妖怪" is the type of yokai described in this chapter. because i was unable to find a decent translation (pre-human yokai?), i've only romanised it as "renshou yokai". google translate tells me it’s also a phrase pronounced “jinshu” in japanese. my choice is obviously wildly inaccurate; i welcome corrections and arguments to a better effect. (update 130617 - changed “renshou” to “hitokubi”, with all thanks to @epiphenomenal.)
i used the chinese scans for this; however, i substituted japanese terms for the english translation where it felt appropriate. somehow, "mr. matoba" looks horrifying to me; i switched to "sensei" for the same reason.
translations are not my forte. you're more than welcome to correct me, either by reblog or by ask. i've included the chinese scripts line-by-line expressly for that purpose.
as a preemption: i don't plan to translate anything else.
PAGE 1
雨下 大了! NATSUME: It's raining hard! 去那個車站躲一下吧,老師. NATSUME: Let's go hide in that trainstop for a while, sensei.
車站?居然會在逭種地方? NYANKO: Trainstop? What kind of place is this for a trainstop?
聽西村説, 逭條線路雖然廢棄了, 不過車站還是殘留在各處. NATSUME: According to Nishimura, the trainline may have changed, but the stops're still everywhere.
嗯-- NATSUME: Ah--
PAGE 2
有人在-- NATSUME: [thinking: There's someone here--...]
…的場先生!? NATSUME: ! … Matoba-san?! 嘁 NYANKO: Tch.
哦呀夏��? 真是在奇怪的地方相遇了呢. MATOBA: Oya, Natsume? Truly, I'm meeting you in a strange place.
你在這種地方做什麼? MATOBA: What are you doing in this sort of place?
躲一下雨… 打擾了 NATSUME: Hiding from the rain ... excuse me.
哈哈.雨勢看起來還會變強呢. 你也不用著急. MATOBA: Haha. The rain looks as if it'll only get stronger. You don't need to worry.
PAGE 3
我正好無聊呢. 不如我們聊聊吧. MATOBA: I've just gotten bored. Why don't we chat for a while?
真不巧我並沒有.那麼閑… NATSUME: Sorry, I'm not that free...
啷啷 [sfx: something's clattering, clattering.]
--鳥叫聲...? NATSUME: ---a bird's sound...? 那個包袱里是鳥籠嗎? NATSUME: Is that a birdcage under that cloth?
--聲音真好聽.  NATSUME: --the sound is very lovely.
--真是意外呢, 的場先生喜歡小鳥嗎? NATSUME: --I’m really surprised, does Matoba-san like little birds, then?
嘿嘿, 這裡面可不是小鳥哦. MATOBA: Oh, what's in here isn't a little bird.
--誒? NATSUME: --eh?
 啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter]
PAGE 4
是我剛剛抓住的本性惡劣的妖怪. MATOBA: It's an evil yokai that I've just caught.
啷啷啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter] 
NATSUME: ...
不用這樣滿臉懐疑吧 MATOBA: There’s no need to make such a doubtful face.
我可沒有在説笑 MATOBA: I'm not joking.
你看這是我在委託人家裡 MATOBA: Look, this is a snack that I received at a client's house. 因為味道很不錯,所以我還要了一點.要不要嘗嘗看? MATOBA: The flavor was fairly good, and so I asked for some. Would you like to taste a little?
搖頭 搖頭 搖頭 NATSUME: [headshake headshake headshake]
裡面並沒有下毒啦. MATOBA: There's absolutely no poison inside!
NATSUME: .........
我回去了… NATSUME: I'm heading back ...
哎呀別這樣嘛.你也很好奇包袱里有什麼吧? MATOBA: Ai-ya, don't be like that. You must be very curious about what's under this cloth.
啷啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter]
有一家人是我們交往很久的世交. MATOBA: There's a family with whom we've upheld relations for a long time. 近年來總是感覺事事不順,所以才拜託我們去他家看看. MATOBA: In recent years, they've somehow consistently felt that something was amiss; as such, they begged us to come look at their house.
PAGE 5
一去才發現整個氣氛都很糟糕 MATOBA: Upon going, I realised the whole atmosphere was horrific.
但是在家裡到處查看,也沒有發現有妖怪潛在的氣息. MATOBA: But I examined the whole house and couldn't find any potential whiff of yokai. 結果查看院子的時候, 發現有一棵枝葉異常茂盛的冬青樹. MATOBA: It came about that, when I examined the yard, I noticed there was a exceptionally lush holly tree.
從枝葉中傳來無比優美的鳥鳴聲. MATOBA: From amid the leaves there came an incomparably beautiful birdsong.
啷啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter]
家中只有一對老夫妻住著 MATOBA: The family's just an old couple now.
他們説因為喜歡這種鳥鳴聲,還特意做了飼料臺每天都會喂點水果餵點水. MATOBA: Because they loved that birdsong, they said, they specifically built a feeding station and would every day replenish it with a little fruit, a little water.
不過.每當他們注意到的時候,飼料都已經被吃光了. MATOBA: However, while they were unaware, the feed would be wholly eaten.
所以一次都沒有親眼看到過那隻小鳥的樣子. MATOBA: As a result, they'd never once seen what that little bird looked like with their eyes.
啷啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter]
PAGE 6
在妖怪之中 MATOBA: Among yokai, 有會模仿鳥叫來騙取飼料從而獲得力量 MATOBA: there's a kind that can imitate birdsounds to trick away fodder and so gain strength.
最后,還會利用那種美的鳥叫聲呼唤大妖怪来袭擊這家人家. MATOBA: Eventually, it'll use that splendid birdsong to call down a big yokai to strike this family down. 一邊騙取照料, 一邊做出這種事, 真是卑鄙的妖怪呢. MATOBA: Using one face to trick people into caring for it, using another to do this sort of thing--it truly is a contemptible yokai.
---所以我才去把這隻妖怪從樹上趕下來抓了起來. MATOBA: ---For this reason, I brought this yokai down from the tree and caged it.
---這麼説現在包袱里的妖怪… NATSUME: ---So, the yokai under the cloth right now ...
是啊. MATOBA: Just so.
哼. 誰知道呢? NYANKO: Hmph. Who knows?
沒準實際上只是隻小鳥呢 NYANKO: Maybe, in fact, it's only a bird, 故意説是什麼妖怪想來騙夏目玩的吧. NYANKO: that you're deliberately calling some kind of yokai to trick Natsume for fun.
PAGE 7
…老師? NATSUME: … sensei?
哈哈哈, 小貓眯説的話還頁是好笑眤. MATOBA: Hahaha, the little cat's speech is pretty funny.
雖然我也沒有見過,不過聽説會模仿鳥叫騙人的妖怪 NYANKO: Although I've never met one, I've heard those bird-imitating, people-tricking yokai 名叫「人首」. 是種相當 惡劣的妖怪. NYANKO: are called "hitokubi". It's a particularly disagreeable kind of yokai.
確實剛才開始就一直有奇怪的感覺 NYANKO: Indeed, I started to have a strange feeling a while ago - 但是那個籠子裡卻只有小鳥的感覺哦. NYANKO: But from inside that cage, there's only a little-bird's kind of feeling.
如果你真的抓住了人首的話, NYANKO: If you'd really caught a "hitokubi", 為什麼你會獨自帶著那種危險的東西在這種地方----... NYANKO: why would you alone take such a dangerous thing into this sort of place----...
NYANKO: .....
老師? NATSUME: Sensei?
---不過的也對 NATSUME: [thinking] ---but that’s right.  也沒有帶同门的其他人... NATSUME: He hasn't brought any other clansfolk...
為什麼會獨自一人呢? NATSUME: Why would he be on his own? ---而且話說回來, NATSUME: ---And anyway,
PAGE 8
爲什麼他會在這裡這種空無一物的廢棄車站裡----.... NATSUME: [thinking] Why would he be in this empty, abandoned trainstop----....
他真的 NATSUME: [thinking] Is he really -
他眞的是的場先生���? NATSUME: [thinking] Is he truly Matoba-san?
啷啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter]
那個包袱里是鳥? NATSUME: [thinking] Under that cloth, is it a bird?
還是妖怪? NATSUME: [thinking] Or is it a yokai?
爲什麼總是叫住我不讓我離開呢... NATSUME: [thinking] Why does he keep calling me off, not letting me leave...
阿阿 MATOBA: --ah ah.
真的是太過惡劣… 所以現在正打箅要 處理掉它呢 MATOBA: It's really too vile a thing... and so now it must be dealt with.
最好還是別看了哦- MATOBA: It's best if you don't look anymore -
雖然機會難得我也挺想給你們看看的呢. MATOBA: --though it's a rare opportunity and I'd also quite like to give you two a look.
PAGE 9
它雖然聲音學的是很像… MATOBA: While it's learned to sound very much like a bird... 不過你們覺得為什麼它會被叫做「人首」呢? MATOBA: Haven't you wondered why it would be called "hitokubi"?
因為這東西的樣子啊 MATOBA: Because the true look of this thing -
啷啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter]
啉 [sfx: clang!!]
NATSUME: ?!
明明是荒廢的車站卻通電了 NATSUME: [thinking] It's obviously an abandoned station, but it's lighting up.
唔唔... NYANKO: Wuu wuu…
老師? NATSUME: Sensei?
--糟糕了啊. 有糟糕的東西過來了. NYANKO: --this is a disaster. There's a horror of a thing coming our way.
PAGE 10
誒 MATOBA: Ah.
來了啊 MATOBA: It's coming.
啊 NATSUME: Ah?!
噓. 安靜. 蓋上那塊布,閉上眼睛, 安靜待著. MATOBA: Shhh. Settle down. Cover yourself with that cloth, close your eyes, and lie low.
誒?! NATSUME: Eh?! .........
有什麼- NATSUME: [thinking] What is--
噗 [giant sfx: puff.]
PAGE 11
閉緊 [sfx: natsume closing his eyes tight.]
噗通噗通噗通 [giant sfx: splash splash splash]
在車站外面 NATSUME: [thinking] Outside the station -
啷啷啷 [sfx: clatter clatter]
啊啊... 哦哦 [general animal sounds: ah ah, wo wo]
哦哦哦 [general animal sounds: wo wo]
啊 NATSUME: [thinking] Ah...
啪嘁 [sfx: SNAP.]
PAGE 12
安靜 NATSUME: [being quiet...]
--已經可以了哦, 夏目. MATOBA:--it's all right now, Natsume.
--鳥籠不見了--.... NATSUME: [thinking] --the birdcage vanished....
PAGE 13
在這種小雨的天氣時不知為什麼, MATOBA: In this drizzling weather, for unknown reasons-- 就會有剛才那種大妖怪經過這條廢棄的線路呢. MATOBA: There will come yokai like the one just now, following this abandoned trainline.
不過它并不會進到車站裡面來. MATOBA: However, it simply cannot enter the train stop. 你要是在這種小雨天氣到處亂逛的話, 小心會被吃掉哦. MATOBA: If you want to wander around in this rainy weather, do be careful not to get eaten.
NATSUME: .... ...那個鳥籠里的妖怪去哪裡了 ....? NATSUME: ... that yokai which was in the birdcage--where did it go...?
真的… 是妖怪嗎? NATSUME: ... was it ... really a yokai?
是呀, 無論聲音還是氣息. MATOBA: Of course. Regardless of its sound or smell. 連小貓眯這種妖怪都會被他欺騙的惡劣妖怪呢. MATOBA: it's the kind of disgusting yokai that could even trick your little squinting cat.
--所以處理方式也很麻煩 MATOBA: --Because handling the matter would also be very troublesome,
PAGE 14
只好請它帶走了. MATOBA: I could only invite something to take it away.
NYANKO: ....
--請它帶走… NATSUME: [thinking] -- Invite something to take it away...
不對恐怕那個叫做人首的妖怪 NATSUME: [thinking] But I'm afraid that so-called "hitokubi" yokai 已經被剛才的大妖怪給--- NATSUME: [thinking] has, by the big yokai, already been--
NATSUME: ....... 謝謝你 NATSUME: Thank you...
誒? 啊啊. MATOBA: Eh? Ah.
PAGE 15
周圍感覺亮起來了呢. MATOBA: It feels as if it's brightening outside. 看來雨也快停了. MATOBA: Looks as if the rain will stop soon as well.
--雖然還想和你好好聊聊. MATOBA: --I'd still like to chat with you properly. 不過我等下還有工作. 只能下次有機會再説了. MATOBA: However, I've still another job. I can only wait until there's another opportunity to talk.
的埸先生. NATSUME: --Matoba-san.
你之所以獨自來這裡… NATSUME: The reason that you came here alone ...
是因為不想要同門的人也被捲入危險嗎…? NATSUME: Is it because you didn't want your clansfolk with to get caught up in the danger...?
是不想讓他們知道我在偷懶啦 MATOBA: Oh, it’s because I didn't want them to know I was slacking.
PAGE 16
NATSUME: --...
那我就此吿辭了 MATOBA: Now I've said it.
啊啊 MATOBA: --ah.
這件事還請替我保密. MATOBA: Please keep this a secret for me.
*
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supernatural-idjit-95 · 8 years ago
Text
Back To The Start, Part 5
This is the final part of Back To The Start! *Throws confetti* I’ll add a masterlist to the series tomorrow! I LOVED writing this. So as always, please leave feedback and happy reading!:) Pairings: Dean X Castiel Summary: Sam finally returns to the bunker to discover the carnage Dean and The Mark left behind. (That’s the tip of the iceberg, y'all). Warnings: Major character death, referenced/implied suicide, SEASONS 9, 10 & 11 SPOILERS, referenced/implied violence, canon typical violence, angst, unexpected ending, fluff, romance, the feels in this omg… ***** Sam was only about ten minutes away from the bunker. His mind had been racing the entire drive home, worrying about why neither Cas or Dean had answered any of his phone calls or messages. He was gripping the steering wheel with one hand, holding his cell phone in the other. He was hoping it would ring, and that it would be his brother. But it never rang. His expression was wrenched with anxiety, and his right foot was trembling from pressing the gas pedal so hard for hours on end. In what seemed like the longest ten minutes ever, he finally halted the old Honda he had ‘borrowed’ in front of the bunker. Barely giving himself time to put it in park, he was running for the steel front door. It creaked open slowly, and he held his breath as he stepped onto the landing. Looking around the main room as he descended the stairs, nothing looked amiss, except for the music he could hear playing. It resonated throughout the bunker like it was alive.
*“Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad Take a sad song and make it better Remember to let her into your heart Then you can start to make it better…”* It sounded like it was coming from his brother’s bedroom. “Dean?!” Sam called. “Cas?!” He walked further into the main room in the bunker that held the enormous mapped table. Closing in on the source of the music, he could hear the song- it was one he’d heard before.
*“…Hey, Jude, don’t be afraid You were made to go out and get her The minute you let her under your skin Then you begin to make it better…”* Sam called his brother’s name again, turning down the hallway to his bedroom. “Dean, where are you?!” He finally turned the corner, discovering the open door to Dean’s room, and the disarray that lay behind it. “What the hell…?” Sam said to himself. He was wondering if Dean had done this himself, or if someone else had. There weren’t signs of a typical struggle; Sam had seen many of them, but to him it only looked like someone had thrown a god-awful temper tantrum. No blood, no broken doors. Just a mess, and the blaring stereo that had been left on.
*“…And anytime you feel the pain Hey, Jude, refrain Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders For well you know that it’s a fool Who plays it cool By making his world a little colder…”* Sam ran his fingers through his unkempt hair, trying to remember to breathe. He kicked a broken lamp shade out of his path, then started for the hallway.
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“Okay…Look in the garage Sam. He’s probably in there.” Sam thought to himself, but knew he was probably wrong. Nothing here felt normal to him, and unfortunately the hunter in him was usually right. Sam rushed down the corridor, opening every door and closet on his way to the garage to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He had to find Dean and Cas. Sam was almost there, when he came to a sudden halt in the hallway. In front of him he saw the door to the dungeon in pieces, strewn about the floor like confetti. It reminded him of the aftermath of an explosion, and his heart skipped a beat. Rushing forward, he stepped over the pieces of the door and through the doorway to the Dungeon. “Dean!” Sam was praying for an answer as he howled into the dark dungeon. He almost wish he’d turned the damn stereo off so he could hear. *“…Hey, Jude, don’t let me down You have found her, now go and get her Remember to let her into your heart Then you can start to make it better…”* Flipping the emergency light switch on the wall to his right, the dungeon illuminated. Among the debris and shattered glass that rested on the floor laid Castiel, and around his body on the concrete were the marks that his wings had left behind when he died. Sam’s breathed hitched, and a lump formed in his throat as he saw Cas’s limp form. “Cas!” He ran to Castiel’s side, hoping he was wrong. He couldn’t be gone…not Cas. “No! Cas…Hey! Wake up!” Sam was shaking him, compulsively listening and feeling for a heartbeat. His face pale, and his eyes bereft of any signs of life. Sam’s eyes were filled with tears; one his closest friends was dead, and his brother probably was too. Whatever had killed Cas had to have been strong. *“…So let it out and let it in Hey, Jude, begin You’re waiting for someone to perform with And don’t you know that it’s just you, Hey, Jude, you’ll do The movement you need is on your shoulder…”*
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He fell back from his knees, sitting on the floor next to his deceased friend. Through his blurred vision, Sam noticed the piece of paper on top of Castiel. Wiping the tears from his face, he picked it up. It was Dean’s handwriting: “Sammy, let me go.” It read. His heart dropped, and his stomach felt sick. “No no no no…” His mind was racing. “Dean didn’t do this. He couldn’t have…there’s no way…” Sam thought. He willed his trembling hands to pull his cell phone from his pocket, his brow furrowed and his free hand clenched into a fist in frustration. He let it ring all the way until Dean’s voicemail answered. Sam didn’t want to say anything he would regret, knowing his brother wasn’t in his right mind because of the Mark. He hung up the phone, and made himself get up. Sam looked down at Cas. “The Mark…it did this. Dean lost it. And I was too late.” He thought, and hoped to God he was wrong-mostly for his brother’s sake. Sam knew Dean would never be able to live with himself with Castiel’s blood on his hands. Sam exhaled a breath that he felt like he’d been holding forever. He grabbed his head with both hands in despair, tears still flowing freely and unbroken.
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“I should have been here.” His voice quivered as his emotions swayed between a state of anguish and fury. *“…Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad Take a sad song and make it better Remember to let her under your skin Then you’ll begin to make it better, better, better, better, better…”* “I’m gonna find Dean, Cas…and we’re gonna fix this. I swear.” Sam said to Cas. And although Castiel didn’t hear what Sam said, someone else did. ***** Castiel opened his eyes. Much the same as being born, a bright blinding light was all he comprehend for a moment. As his eyes adjusted, he discerned that he was outside. It was a remarkable sight-so beautiful that he hadn’t noticed his mouth hanging open. Cas was standing in a flat, bright green pasture; the sun looked to be at high noon shining bright, and the many trees and flowers were in bloom. Birds were singing, and the sky above was blue and cloudless. He felt like he was standing in a painting.
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Behind him about a quarter of a mile stood an old, sturdy looking farm house. Looking to the East, there was nothing but taller green grass and the edge of densely covered woods. He paused admiring the scenery. He remembered what had happened with Dean. Putting his hands on his stomach and looking down at his torso, he saw that his wounds were gone and his clothes like brand new. Cas felt of his face-no cuts, bruises, or blood. It was like his beating and untimely end hadn’t happened. But something wasn’t right. Cas knew he should be dead. He recalled what dying felt like, his heartbeat had slowed down then ceased, and had endured his Grace and soul being torn from his human vessel. He knew that Dean killed him, but that he wasn’t himself when he did it. More significantly, Castiel felt no anger…he could still feel his love for Dean, and was only grateful that he got to tell him. Just then coming from the West, Cas heard a voice calling his name. “Cas! Over here!” Cas squinted at the sun in his eyes, and could make out a figure, a man-waving to him across the field, and he could see he was wearing some kind of a white suit with a mask that covered his face. The man was standing underneath a massive Oak tree, in front of a large rectangular box. Cas started walking in the man’s direction. “Hurry up! I don’t have all day, ya know.” The man called as Cas quickened his pace, cautiously closing the distance across the field between himself and the strange man. “His voice…I know him.” Cas thought. With the giant Oak close enough to block the sun’s blinding rays, Castiel could see that the man wasn’t wearing just any kind of suit-he was wearing a beekeeper’s suit. The box in front of him was a large beehive, buzzing with life. Cas was within feet of the man now, and could only stare at him, watching him collect honeycomb after honeycomb. “Aren’t you gonna ask who I am? Or why you’re here?” The man asked, concentrating on his work at hand. Cas licked his lips, knowing he must be crazy. “You’re the Prophet…Chuck. Chuck Shurley…” Cas said. “…but-but why are you here? Why are we here?” His identity exposed, the man gracefully removed his mask. It was indeed the Prophet Chuck Shurley. “You ask a lot of questions, Castiel. You always have, though.” Chuck replied. Cas looked down at the grass beneath his feet. “You-you aren’t a Prophet, are you?” He asked. Chuck laughed. “Again with the questions!” He smiled at Cas. “No, Castiel. You catch on quick…I’m not a Prophet, no.” Chuck said, trailing off, getting distracted by the task of closing the door to the beehive. “Then, what-or who-are you?” Castiel dared to ask. Chuck latched the door shut and stood up straight. “I’m God.” He replied, and simply smiled. When Castiel didn’t say anything out of sheer shock, Chuck (God) continued. “I know, I know…I had you fooled for a long time there, didn’t I?” He chuckled. “Truth is, I just really loved being…human. It’s refreshing, ya know?” Cas tilted his head in acknowledgement and awe.
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Chuck went on. “I mean…humans are-well, they’re complicated. But let me tell you-they are determined. They’re passionate. They’re kind. I mean, I can’t believe I made them!” Chuck gestured at the beehive and shook his head in wonder. “And bees, they’re so…incredible! Ya know, without bees, Earth couldn’t exist. They’re much more than meets the eye.” Cas wondered where He was going with this. He wanted to ask Him if Dean was okay, and why he was here. But this was God; he didn’t want to disrespect Him. “I know that expression, Cas.” Chuck said as he studied Cas’s face. “You’re sad…I get it. And I know you’re wondering what all of this means.” Castiel nodded, deciding to ask his question while Chuck had paused. “Can you tell me…is Dean alright?” Cas asked. Chuck broke his gaze with Cas. “No, he’s not Cas. I won’t lie to you.” Cas closed his eyes in distress and hung his head. “You really do love him, don’t you?” Looking up at Chuck again Castiel smiled sadly and answered him. “Yes…I do.” Chuck nodded in approval, with a knowing smile on his face. “You know, this isn’t the first time we’ve met here Castiel.” Chuck said. Cas gazed at Him with questioning eyes. “What do you mean?” Chuck sighed. “We’ve been down this road before. Don’t you remember Lucifer imploding you into a billion molecules? I feel like you’d remember something like that…” “Yes-I certainly remember.” Cas replied stoically. “You fixed me, you put me back together.” Chuck smiled and gaped at the sky without worry. “I did, didn’t I?” He began tinkering with his beehive again, as if he’d forgotten Cas was there. Determined for answers, Cas asked another question. “Please Chu-God…why am I here? What’s the point to all of this?” Chuck raised His hand in protest smiling. “Please…just call me Chuck. I prefer that name. It’s less intense, if you know what I mean.” Cas nodded in reply, shuffling his feet in the grass. Chuck turned and began to remove his gloves and outer beekeeper’s suit. “Do you wanna know what happened the first time I tried out beekeeping?” Chuck asked over his shoulder in a laugh. Castiel had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. This was pointless, he was getting nowhere. He grew agitated at Chuck’s carefree attitude. Dean wasn’t alright, and he was dead-or something like that. “Don’t roll your eyes, Cas. I promise I have a point.” Chuck said, his back turned to Cas as he stepped out of his suit, revealing a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt that seemed much too plain for a God to be wearing. Cas stiffened in surprise. “I-I’m sorry. Please continue.” Chuck turned to him and cleared His throat. “Anyways, as I was saying. The first time I tried my hand at beekeeping was a disaster! I wound up covered head to toe in bee stings. I’m not kidding, it wasn’t pretty!” He chuckled. “Anyhow, look at me now; I think I’m pretty good at it!” He grinned. Cas tried to smile back, but couldn’t find the heart to. Chuck’s grin faded and He went on. “My point here is Cas, I had to keep trying until I got it right. What’s that old saying? ’Try, try again’.” His eyes met with Castiel’s. “I’m sorry, I-I’m not following you…” Cas trailed off in query. Chuck sighed and put His hands on His hips, stepping forward to Cas. “Cas, you need to try again. Go back to the start, back to the beginning,” Chuck stated. “Sometimes you just need a clean slate.” Castiel’s full attention was won now, and he gazed at Chuck wanting Him to elaborate. Chuck cleared His throat. “See, I’ve learned a couple things from being ‘human’…” He held up his finger. “…Number one: never mix your liquors-it’ll be a bad time if you do. Number two: sometimes, just sometimes…it’s alright to ask for help.” Chuck paused. “And that’s what you did, remember? You prayed to me, Cas. And I want to help you, I do…if you’ll let me.” Castiel was confused. “How can you help me? I’m dead, am I not?” He asked matter-of-factly. Chuck spoke again. “Well, yes and no. You’re more in ‘limbo’ than you are actually dead. But, I’m going to help you, Cas. Only because I believe everyone has a destiny-and the Winchesters-Dean, is your’s.” Castiel’s heart pounded in anticipation. “What do you need to me to do?” He asked. Chuck shook His head side to side with a happy grin on His face. “Nothing. I have faith in you. Just try your best, Cas.” Chuck sighed. “As the saying goes: ‘Try, try again’.” With that, Chuck’s hand landed on his shoulder, and it all disappeared. The field, the bees, even Chuck had vanished. **** Castiel was standing outside again now, but somewhere, some time completely different. He looked around him, and could see a few select makeshift grave markings in the ground. All the grass was dead, and a circle of trees demolished down to their roots surrounded him like a nuclear bomb had been detonated. He knew this place, and he knew what date it was.
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Cas was standing where he’d risen Dean from Hell, where he had been buried by Bobby and Sam after the Hell Hounds drug him down to the pit. A mix of emotions flooded over Cas like a wave; he was getting another chance. Finally for once, his cries for help were answered. His brain was foggy from whatever Chuck had just done to get him here, but he could hear voices. Castiel smiled, because they weren’t just any voices; he was hearing ‘Angel Radio’. Through the muffled sounds of the thousands of Angels he was hearing, he closed his eyes to focus, trying to make out what they were saying. The brightest of smiles, one of relief and love spread across Castiel’s face as he heard the Angels talking: “Dean Winchester is saved.”
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*****
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