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disabled-dragoon · 9 months

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The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

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With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

---

Submit a Book:

#disability resources #disability #chronic illness #disability books #books #resources #book list #disability literature #literature #disability representation #disabled characters #information #informative #disability education #disability history #disability rights #please add to this #to be updated #long post

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the-modern-typewriter · 7 months

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You're writing is amazing!! <3 If possible, is it alright to do something focusing on an embarrassed/shy sidekick that got injured in battle, and has to let the (flirty) hero tend to their wounds/wash hair/feed them because of how weak they are at the moment? Bonus points for a very touch starved sidekick, and some tension.

"Sit down."

"It's fine, I can-"

"Sit." The hero met their eyes. "What sort of mentor would I be without giving you the appropriate post-battle aftercare?"

"You don't have to phrase it like that," the sidekick mumbled. They did sit, though.

"What?" The hero grinned, opening up the first aid kit. "Aftercare?"

The sidekick looked down, horribly aware of the heat radiating off their face.

The hero laughed quietly; warm and fond.

"The injuries aren't that bad," the sidekick said. "I'm just tired." So very, very tired. Their limbs felt like melted marshmallows; pitiful goop.

"Mm, no wonder. You were very impressive out there."

"Just doing my job." They shivered as the hero began to make quick work tending to their minor wounds, touch warm and strong and confident. They tried not to lilt into it. They blamed the exhaustion in the fact that they did.

"And now I'm just doing mine, hotshot."

The hero pressed closer, shifting so that they could take the sidekick's weight. They stroked their fingers, entirely unnecessarily, entirely lovely, through the sidekick's hair.

The sidekick's eyes fluttered closed. A small, embarrassingly needy sound left them. "S-sorry."

"Don't be. You're sweet."

"I'm useless like this."

"I think it's adorable." The hero placed the last plaster over a cut on the sidekick's temple. "You never let me look after you normally. I like it."

"Well, I'm supposed to be supporting you...."

The hero pressed a kiss to the sidekick's temple.

The sidekick's eyes, for all of their tiredness, snapped open. They glanced up at the hero.

The hero smiled again. "Kissing it better. Did it help?"

The blush returned full force. "You're ridiculous."

"I could kiss the rest of them too. Just one might be a fluke. It's not scientific."

"So stupid." The sidekick covered their burning face with their hands.

"So cute."

"Don't tease me." It was another mumble; torn between the delicious squirming feeling that the teasing left in them and the sheer horror of it, that the hero might be mocking them.

They didn't think the hero was mocking them, though. They weren't the sort. Did they flirt with possibly everything? Yes. Were they unkind? No. But that didn't make it real. That didn't make the desperate rise of hope in the hero's chest any easier to bear.

"You are cute." The hero did a last check over the scrapes and scratches, before moving. They pulled the sidekick up into their arms, cradling them like they weighed nothing. "My cute little absolute devastation of a powerhouse."

"It was nothing." The sidekick clutched hold, stomach swooping.

"You saved my life."

"You save them. I save you. It's nothing."

"Hey." Some of the flirting dropped. The hero waited for the sidekick to meet their eyes. "It's not nothing. Thank you."

The sidekick swallowed, but managed a nod.

The hero carried them through to the spare bedroom, and for all of the sidekick's flittering nerves, they were half-asleep by the time they arrived. Sapped of strength and energy. It made it easy to go along with the hero for once, to let them tuck the sidekick beneath the sheets.

The world felt lulled.

The hero caressed their cheek, taking another moment to study them, gaze intent.

The sidekick slid theirs away, breath catching.

"I'm not teasing you," the hero said, softly. "I'm quite genuine in everything I've said or done. I wouldn't tease you. Not like that anyway."

"Oh."

"Get some rest, hotshot. Good job today. I'll be in the other room if you need anything."

The sidekick wanted to stay awake. They wanted to tug at the string of the hero's earnestness, whatever the hell it all meant. Their eyes were already closing again, the room tunnelled at the corners.

Their last act was to reach out, woozy and weak, and take the hero's hand. It felt like the bravest thing they'd ever done. Far bolder than that day's fight.

The hero stopped. They mattress dipped with their weight.

"Okay," they said, stroking their thumb over the sidekick's knuckles. "I'll be here."

And, even when the sidekick woke up hours later, they were.

#hero x sidekick #heroes #sidekicks #sidekick #writing #touch starved #fluff #hurt/comfort #story #fic #ficlet

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momotorin · 4 months

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my phone fell, love lmao i posted it by accident ^^ @tozakimo

strawberry kisses

farmer!momo x baker!reader | fluff, smut | men dni!

it's been an exhausting year, especially for you. you just graduated from your university, settled for a corporate job somewhere in the bustling and loud city of tokyo. it wasn't even related to your degree, for fucks sake, but you settled for it as it paid off really well.

but then, you got another offer later during the year. working for a small bakery at night just across your apartment. it was quiet, healing, with the smell of pastry and coffee pungent in the air— it was surely something you can't compare with anything.

your corporate job got too heavy, and it got to the point that it wasn't working well anymore. you kept your job at the bakery, now working full time.

unfortunately, before november came, the bakery shut down because of unprecedented reasons; which, the owner died of oldness, which you mourned as ms. sato was the kindest person to ever teach you about anything you know about baking now, she was like a second mother, one that you held really dear to your heart.

late november, your sister, mina, went to your apartment in tokyo.

all primed and cut into the right places, mina knocks on your door, three times, "y/n! open this goddamn door!" she shouted, and you revealed yourself, wrapped around a blanket, eyes puffed with tears. "oh," she hugs you immediately, taking your head to lay on her neck as you hugged her back. "tokyo must've been so unkind to you, huh?"

"i-it is," you sobbed as she held you in her arms. "i wanna go home, mina."

"well," she chuckles, rubbing your back in comfort and warmth. "i wouldn't be here if i didn't take you home."

it was such a pleasant feeling; taking the train home to kobe, the regret and awfulness of the big city of tokyo being transported away from you. mina was kind enough to lend you the window seat, which you really enjoyed.

mina taps you on the hand, "hey," she smiled. "it's sana's birthday in a few days..."

"oh! really?" you perked up at the mention of her girlfriend's name. "what do you plan to do?"

"nothing that big," she chuckles, her head hanging down and her hands fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "i bought a ring already, though."

"what!?" you exclaimed, hands on your mouth, trying to make yourself as shocked as you looked. "i mean, you've known each other for what... like 6 years already? i'm glad for you two."

mina sighs, "i know you are," she said. "but i just don't know how to ask her, you know? i'm not the biggest romantic out there. she is. but she's so busy with the farm and all; i know momo's there to help her but i just don't want to add to her worry if i ever ask h-"

"mina," you held your sister by the shoulders and made her look at you. "i'm not really close with sana but i know she loves you. trust me, she's been waiting for you to pop the question."

"well," she blushes. "could you help me?"

"of course," you chuckled at her. "we have like... 20 more days. so no pressure. let's just get home first, hm?"

"yeah," mina sighs as she lies back on her seat. "you know, i'd like you to meet her best friend, though." mina chuckled. "momo. such a lovely person. the girl literally leaves a couple of her fruits for us when she supplies the flour."

you smiled, imagining what she was like, how she was like, going into your family bakery back home. "she sounds delightful."

the next day, you got your being up to go and operate the family bakery, just a few streets away from your home. you went in with mina and briefed you about the different pastries that they still serve. you added a little bit of yours, but you let it out for a while, not confident enough to put it on the pastry shelves yet.

you sighed, taking a break from kneading, baking, mixing, and carrying the goods. it's around 6 'o clock am, just an hour before the bakery opens. mina was cleaning up the dining area thoroughly, as her jazz music blasted in the background.

the bell of the entrance rings, and you jolt up, "we're not yet ope-"

"oh," the woman chuckled, bags of flour on her toned shoulders, carried by muscled biceps. mina comes to lead the woman to the kitchen, where she puts down the flour on the supply area. "um," she says. "i-i need to get the fruits, hold on."

the woman rushes outside, and you stare at her as she goes to her truck.

"that's momo," mina chuckled at your obvious flush. it wasn't one of attraction, but one of embarrassment. you should've greeted her better. "she's cute isn't she?"

she looked delightful as she sounds.

"here," momo drops the fruits on the counter, bunched up in a plastic bag. "i- um, gotta go, mina."

"no, wait," you chuckled at her obvious shyness, her timidness making her cuter than she already was. "sit for a little while. i didn't greet you well so, wait-" you smiled at her as she sat on one of the seats in the dining area. you rushed to the baking area, where you stored the eclairs that you made, pulled out the little box, and stored it for her.

"here," you handed the box of eclairs to her. "just a little trade for the fruits you got us."

she smiles, "thank you," she bowed. "are you new here?"

"oh," you chuckled as you reached out your hand, urging her to shake hands with you. "i'm y/n. mina's sister."

she gently takes your hand, "momo," she says, looking into your eyes in an obvious flush as she spoke. "i- um, i'm mina's flour supplier."

"well, she told me already," you retracted your hand from her hold, but you admit, that was the greatest handshake of your life. she stands, putting the chair back on its old position. "see you around, i guess?"

"yeah, um," she looks down on her shoes as she takes the box of eclairs. "see you around, y/n."

momo leaves shortly after, leaves you in a haze, and mina nudges at you as she sees that little interaction when she is cleaning up the counter.

she laughs, "can't believe i saw two losers interacting with each other, oh my god," she chuckles. "i'm definitely going to ask sana to set you two up on a date because neither of you are going to do it."

"is she really that fucking buff?" you asked, albeit randomly.

"jesus," mina laughs further. "you stared at her arms the whole time?"

"damn," you palmed your face in the realization. "well it was out. if it had eyes, it'll be looking at me. but she's cute."

"can't believe that my sister thirsted in front of me," mina sighed. "anyways, she lives just right beside sana's. if you wanna know that sort of thing."

well, it's not useless, you thought. "i'm not some creep... i don't just want to show up at her door."

mina laughs as she arranges the trays of pastries ready to be lined up at the pastry shelves, "trust me, she wants you to."

the next day, you and mina, with her girlfriend, came and visited sana's farm, somewhere up the countryside. sana grew vines of grapes, with her wine distillery up the hill.

as you went up the hill, you saw various other fruits, and it reminded you of what momo supplies to the bakery everyday. you've made a jam out of the strawberries she gave, and it was as red as what you're seeing now.

"ah, momo!" sana calls out, waving to the truck that was driving by.

"hey!" momo stopped the truck, coming down from it. you looked in her direction; her hair tied up into a nice bun, her black tank top, her worn out cargo pants, and some boots. god. she looks like she's straight out of your dream. "the deliveries this day was so fucking many-" she mumbles and suddenly stops as you made your way to mina's side. "oh, hi," she greets, in a small tone. "y/n, right?"

"yeah," you smiled. "the strawberries there," you pointed. "are they yours?"

"oh," she scratched her nape, her cheeks at an obvious blush. "yeah- um, yeah it's mine."

"we'll head to the distillery for a while," sana chuckles as she held mina's hand. "take it from here, momo. she hasn't seen your side of the place."

"sana," she sighs. "alright. okay. i'll go take care of it."

you chuckled, "so, strawberries," you said. "how come they're so plump here? they're beautiful."

"well," she went to your side as you viewed the row of freshly grown strawberries. "it's all grown naturally. no pesticides or anything, i make sure that even the soil's clean."

"oh, wow," you commented. "i made a jam out of the strawberries you've been giving us," you said. "it's the yummiest ones. you want to have some?"

"oh, of course," she smiles. you can't help but melt. "the eclairs were so good though," she commented. "how come you aren't selling them yet?"

"i- um," you went silent for a second. "i'm not that confident yet with how it can turn out, you know. that's the last recipe that i learned from someone."

"well," she sighs. "i totally understand. i'll wait for those, though!"

you smiled at her. "so," you looked at her. "what do you do besides farming, momo?"

"i- um," she looks down on her shoes once more, trying to hide her obviously red face. "play drums at the local bar."

"no way!" you said, exclaiming in amusement. "wow," you commented on her. "you seem so chill. didn't expect that you're one."

"well," she chuckled. "it's a jazz bar. nothing too hardcore."

"what do you mean nothing too hardcore?" you chuckled once more, and as you two progress in talking, the more you get amazed at how incredibly delightful this woman was. "i love jazz. where do you play? i wanna go drop by."

"santorini's," she says. "it's sana's bar, actually."

"that friend of yours is one big businesswoman here, huh," you commented. "well, she's perfect with mina."

"couldn't agree more," she says. "when your sister came to her life, it was like she had forgiven anything. i mean, i came late to an invitation once and she just said 'it's okay,' like it's the most normal thing. i guess your sister really did put a bunch of ice on her head to calm her down."

you laughed loudly, astounded by the way she spoke, "ah, you're so..."

"what?" she asks.

"nothing," you chuckled. "so," you clasped your hands at your back. "will you drop by us tomorrow, too?"

"well," she blushed. "of course. i have to deliver mina's orders."

"okay," you smiled. "you don't have to be so uptight around me, you know?"

"i- um-" momo stuttered as you held her hand.

"see," you had a tight grip around her hand, letting her feel the coldness of it against her warm ones. "you're kinda- too cute for this."

it was a thursday, and you went to the bakery right after you took your workout, a new thing that you've been wanting to do.

well, you didn't have time to change, so you baked in your workout outfit, just switching the shirt into a spare, tight, tank top. the apron was clearly useless now, probably.

momo came into the kitchen while you were taking out the freshly baked buns, one that was baking underneath the bigger oven so you had to lean down.

"oh, careful." momo notes as she passes by you. she doesn't forget the sight. you bent down like that waiting for her to get over. god. it made momo go a little crazy while she went and dropped the flour at its usual spot in the bakery supply area. she let herself take that in for a while as she sat down, closing her eyes, feeling an uncomfortable state between her legs.

"momo?" you called out to her, and you went to the supply area, where you found her just.. there. "oh," you quickly went to get some water, as she stared a little too much on your backside on those purple leggings. "here," you said, cutting her out of her daze as you handed her some water. "tough day?"

"very," she said, gulping down the water with a couple of sips. you reached out to a certain drawer in the supply area, your perfectly shaped glutes on display for her. well, fuck. you handed over the strawberry jam to her. "oh, is this it?"

"yeah," you smiled. "try it out. just get a sourdough at the shelves. don't worry, i'll pay for it."

"nope, i have plenty of those at home," she chuckled as she stood up. "i- um," she stutters once more. "are you still going? i'm playing at saturday."

"oh," you smiled, wide enough to compete with the sun. "of course, momo. wouldn't miss that."

"great!" she smiles in happiness, clutching the strawberry jam next to her.

"i'll be cheering for you," you chuckled as you put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it. "good luck!"

she chuckled. "yeah, thanks."

saturday came by fast.

you hung out with momo last night at the market fair, along with mina and sana, who went around the carnival hand in hand.

you had your own delight with momo, who was chill at the carnival games, her winning at several ones, surprisingly as you two ate several snacks on the way. she won a big my melody plushie, which you will forever be thankful for.

you just like spending time with her. she has such immense warmth, though quite timid and shy sometimes, but she was beautiful in a way that you wanted to be consumed by her.

"god," you sigh against your bed, trying to settle into an outfit. "fuck."

"hey," mina says, her body leaning against the doorway. "having trouble?"

"yeah," you sighed as you sat up, and mina made her way to sit with you. "i've been struggling to find an outfit. i don't want something too fitting, too unrevealing, too tight, too everything- i just want something perfect for the night, mina."

mina laughs as she made way to your closet, and pulls out a specific dress. it was a black, suede, champagne dress with its straps thin just to hold the dress together.

"mina, you're a fucking genius," you sighed in comfort as you chuckled, taking the dress from mina's hands. "this is perfect, thank you."

mina laughs, "i know it is. date with momo?"

"hm, kinda like that. i'm seeing her play," you chuckled. "what about you? staying for the night?"

"i'll be at sana's," mina sighs. "she's not having the best time right now..."

"oh, like..." you stopped for a moment, understanding that her girlfriend was sick.

"she's been having a bad fever for the past few days." mina sighs.

"well," you sighed as well, but you remembered something. "i had some extra soup i made a few hours ago," you said. "maybe that could help her."

"you're a lifesaver," mina sighs in relief. "why'd you make it though?"

"just wanted something warm," you giggled. "anyways, i'll be leaving at 7."

"yeah, no worries," mina smiles. "good luck with your date!"

you arrived at the bar, a little past 7pm, perfectly in time in momo's set.

the previous band had only finished playing as you sat right in front, ordering a martini as the first drink of the night.

momo's band comes in as the dim light slowly gets stronger, you catch a sight of momo; in her signature tank top, arms out, with her pants, and a flannel tightly wrapping around the waistband of it. god. she looks so good.

the drums were, unusually, right on front and on the side, just a little beside you and she says 'hi,' with a little smile, her drumstick stuck to her fingers.

she was so cute, but then, she went on to test the tone of the drums, and it sounded great. but god, the way her muscles flexed as she took the drums to sound was so tempting that you just wanted to pull her out of the band and take her home.

but then, she catches a little glance at you again, as she sees you walk to the bathroom. she doesn't miss the subtle appearance of your cleavage, the way that the dress hugged your body so divine, and the way that your ass was so curved in it. it drove her fucking crazy.

you made your way back to your seat, as momo started the song with her band. you got another drink of the same kind.

they played really well, a couple of jazz hits, some requests, and some originals from their band were played.

momo looked at you from the crowd the whole time. you were so beautiful and irresistible in that fucking dress, that she wants to make you tell her to rip it off.

a few songs later, momo's band takes a bow, and the lights dim once more as a sign that their set was finished.

you wait for her silently at your table, now ordering your fourth drink of the night.

"hey," someone taps your shoulder from the back. "how was it?"

you saw momo in all of her glory, her flannel now covering her bare arms. she sits beside you, looking you in the eye.

"you're so great," you said. "you were so good at playing the drums!"

"well," she chuckled as she gestured to the waiter to get her the same drink. "someone important was watching, i didn't want to blow that up."

you chuckled at her, "hm, important, then? so, it's a date..."

"you could put it that way," she teased back. she leans closer to whisper to you, "you look beautiful tonight."

"thanks," you said as you put a hand on her thigh, getting her comfortable with your touches. "you're not so bad yourself. had your arms out and all on the stage."

momo laughs, "well, i didn't know you'd stare at that."

"i mean, i can help but to, you know," you confessed. "it's just so big-"

"something else is bigger- what?" she gets flustered by herself, saying the phrase. "no, oh my god, sorry, y/n... that was such a bad joke."

you just laughed and let yourself lean on her arm. "it's nothing, momo. it's okay," you placed a little kiss on her cheek. "you know, if you really wanna show it off," you slide your hands through her inner thighs, down to her crotch, feeling the material and her cock desperately straining against it. "do it, momo."

"fuck," she stands up, holding your hand, leaving the payment on the table as she makes a rush going out of the bar. "you're getting it."

"hm, let me." you chuckled as she went to open the car door for you, letting you sit down. she went and got into the other side of the car, and she drove away.

"such a little tease for me," she said, running her hand through your bare thigh. "wearing this tight fucking dress," she touches the hem of it as she drove off. "all for others to see."

you held onto your seatbelts as she creeped her fingers closer to your center. "momo-"

the teasing stopped once you arrived at her house, as she pulled you into a deep, breathless kiss. she lets you wrap your legs around her waist as she carries you inside, going to her room.

"fuck," she pulls away, closing her room's door, as she nipped on your neck, making sure that it's red enough for her. "you don't know how much i've been wanting you, baby."

you can't help but moan, and clutch your hand on her hair as she laid you down on her bed, nipping on the valley of your collarbones as she takes off your dress.

"so fucking pretty." she latches on your nipple, as she takes the other to knead with her hand.

"momo, ah- fuck," you rut your hips against her knee as she holds you by the waist. "i need you."

she pulls away from your breasts, as you kiss her, taking her flannel off, and pulling her tank top off. you held tightly to her bicep, as you gently tug on her pants, opening the button of it.

she kneels on top of you, her evident bulge just right on your face. it curved to the side of her calvin klein's, and she takes your hand to palm it.

"so warm, baby," she says, feeling the sensation of you touching it above her boxers. "take it off."

you took it off, and it springed right up, her cock red and hard, slapping up to her navel.

you took her length to your hand, pumping it up and down, as she thrusts. "so needy." you swiped your thumb on the sensitive head, making her squirm.

"wan' fuck your mouth," she whined, getting off of you for a second as she took the space beside you. "please?"

"so cute when you beg," you pumped her a couple of times, as you trailed your kisses from her chest to her stomach. she was whining, holding you by the hair as she makes you a makeshift ponytail. you licked the head of her cock, and she moans loudly. "so cute."

you finally let her fuck your mouth, the big length just sliding in and out of your throat, the tip reaching parts of your mouth you've never known before. momo knows that you were choking, but that doesn't stop her, as she pulled you down by the head to take on her 9 inch length.

"god," she stills, letting her cock pulse fully inside of your mouth. "you're so fucking good, baby."

she finally pulls out, flipping you over with her big strong arms as she kisses your neck once more. "tell me what you want, baby," she whispered. "i need you to let me fuck you like the little bitch you are."

"make me cum," you held onto her hand that was kneading your breast. "please, momo, i don't care how many times- just-"

she kisses you on the lips once more, making you shut up. "don't worry about it."

she trailed her kisses from your chest to the waistband of your panties, spreading your legs and putting it on her shoulders.

"needy little bitch, all for me," she tapped on your arousal that seeped through your panties a couple of times, which made you squirm, your thighs closing on her head. she spreads them once more, removing your panties, and now, the wetness of it glistens in front of her. she takes a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you hold onto her hair. "and you're delicious. can't wait to eat you all night."

she latches her mouth on your clit, looking at you with utmost adoration and lust as you come apart on her tongue. she laps, circles, and plays around with it, making you moan and strut your hips to meet her tongue. she couldn't be more happier when you begged more.

"momo, fuck," you moaned out, her lips still closed and sucking your clit. "fingers, please."

she happily complies, her fingers teasing the outside of your folds, getting it wet enough to be inserted. she puts two of her fingers inside, licking at your clit, as she moves it in and out to hit your g-spot so deliciously.

"mmgh! holy shit, momo," you closed your eyes in the ecstasy of her pleasure. "more, fuck," you rutted your hips, her fingers going faster. "ah."

she pulls away, smirking as she pumps her fingers faster, now she latches on your nipple, stimulating the hard nub, as she makes you come apart on her fingers.

your juices were overflowing on her hand as she went and used her thumb to make circles on your clit. "momo!" you held onto her biceps as she kissed you on the neck. "fuck, fuck," you were becoming sensitive, with the way she was holding and fucking you with her fingers. "momo, i'm gonna-" you held onto her tightly, feeling the heat building up from your pussy.

"cum for me," she whispers, the thumb on your clit teasing you further. "cum, baby."

"fuck!" you screamed, squirting on her hand. you felt your arousal trickle on her hand, to her bed, but you felt something different. it was momo's cum, white, spurted, on your thigh. "did my baby cum untouched with that, huh?" you teased as you pumped her cock, and was surprised that it wasn't even half hard. it was still hard, ready to be inside of you.

"don't worry," you went on top of her, your hands directly touching her toned stomach, as you glide your wetness on her length. "can't wait to have your big cock inside of me," you moaned, lining up her wet cock to your hole. "mmgh," you slowly sit on it, the girth already stretching you out enough. "so fucking big, baby."

she held your arms, as you tried to sit down on her cock. slowly, you ride her, her length not fully in. she was getting impatient, so she rolled you two over, slamming her cock inside of you fully.

she lets you feel her cock inside of you, almost kissing your cervix with how big it is.

"so tight," she thrusts, holding you by the waist, fucking into you slowly to get you loosened up. "fuck, is it your first time?"

"no," you let yourself sway with her, already trembling with how big she was. "it's just that you're so big..."

"hmm, i know," she kisses you once more, a little gentle, as she tries to thrust in and out slowly. "just tell me if you're good already, hm? don't want to destroy my sweetheart like that."

you wrapped your arms around her and you smiled, "get rough with me," you whispered, your mouth forming into an 'o' as her thrusts fasten. "make me your bitch, come on- ah," you moaned, holding onto her biceps. "fuck, use that fucking cock."

"g'nna destroy your little cunt, baby," she moans, holding you by the waist, thrusting as your back arches to her touch. "i'm too big for you," she growls, putting her hand above the spot where she feels her cock bulge. "taking me so fucking well."

you continued to writhe below her, as she pumps her cock, in and out, your pleasure spot getting battered as you let out spurts of your arousal.

"you're so wet," she says, pulling out completely, and turning you over. she tucked a few pillows on your chest, letting you lean onto it as you're now positioned by her on fours. "i want you to stay like this. can you, baby?"

"hmm," you moaned, feeling your juices trickle down to the bedsheets. "fuck..."

"you're making a mess," she laughs, rubbing your folds languidly, as she inserted herself once more, shocking you. you were tighter, "you're gonna squirt on my cock, aren't you, messy girl?'

she went and rubbed your hardened clit, making you squirm and grip her sheets as you whined, screamed, and shouted her name.

she continues to thrust, fast, as she slaps your ass. "fucking slut, always having your ass out when you're at the bakery," she closes her eyes and remembered the times that your ass confined into your clothes too much as she squeezed on it, spreading it apart. "you've been wanting someone to fuck you like this, haven't you, hm?"

"yes, yes!" you screamed, holding onto her sheets as you slammed your hips back in time with hers. she pulls you to her by your hair, and she wrapped her arms around you as she thrusts, her fingers once again creating tight circles on your wet clit.

she huffs, kissing your neck once more, leaving a mark as she held you by the waist, thrusting uncontrollably when she felt your pussy walls pulse against her.

"momo," you moaned, weakly, as you leaned into her touch. "fuck, momo, fuck me more," you whined. "please-"

she pushed you gently again, making you go on fours, as she thrusts, faster than she was before, pumping her wet length in and out of you.

"am i fucking in you enough, huh," she asks in short breaths, her wet skin on your wet skin as you moaned onto her pillows. "so fucking tight, baby," she grunts, feeling your arousal grow by the minute. "cum for me."

you squirted as she continued to thrust, fucking your overused pussy as it pulsed.

"take it." she thrusts, slow, as she makes you feel her pulse. her warm liquid covers your inner walls, as she falls on top of you. "fuck," she pulls out, letting herself soften outside of you. she went and admired her work, your hole filled with her cum, dripping to your clit, but she was fast as she used her tongue to put it back in. she went back to you, making you come back to a laying position, and she makes you rest on her chest. "w's that good, baby?"

you nod against her warm chest, looking up at her. "so good," you smiled, kissing her cheek. "thank you, momo."

she chuckled, "that's nothing," she says. "how are you? did i get too rough? sorry if i d-"

"i told you, right?" you chuckled, holding her hand. "so no, you're not too much."

"well," she blushed still, as she Interlocked her fingers with yours. "what about a proper date?"

"maybe, that's too late to ask," you chuckled. "i mean, you already have me here, you know?"

she laughs, "just wanted to make sure." she kisses your forehead.

maybe, your year isn't that bad at all.

#twice imagines #twice smut #twice fluff #momo imagines #momo fluff #momo smut #twice momo

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fandomfucker · 1 month

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💳 💥💳💥💳💥💳 Rhea Ripley social media posts / talking bout her girlie in interviews part 2 pleaseeeeeeeee 🥵🙏

I mean, if yall are insisting…🤷‍♀️

For the purposes of this, you're not a wrestler

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/fandomfucker/745782885181734913/do-you-think-you-could-do-one-for-rhea-were-its?source=share

Also, currently getting my first tattoo as I write this so please ignore any possible grammatical errors

With the ass video going around, you’d repost it with a “😋🍽️” caption and she would immediately repost it with a “🙇🏻‍♀️🍑🍽️” or sum shit to rile up the fans

You don't have a hug social media following yourself, but they do often ask for more content. Specifically outfit of the day(s)

You make Rhea do them with you because she makes you feel more confident and in every video you can see her just staring at you in the mirror the whole time

I've already said Rhea will bully people off the internet for being me to you. But you? Oh my god you’re worse than Rhea is

If one of her co-workers says something even slightly unkind about her in an interview (Becky👀) you will go with Rhea to her next show and find them backstage

You don't even wrestle or fight but Rhea has had to pull you away from multiple people now because you will fight anybody and everybody for her

One of said fights happened to go viral online, no punches were actually thrown as Rhea had dragged you back first though

People online either loved the love between you two as a couple, or wished they had a partner absolutely willing to throw hands will someone over them

Rhea would do your makeup for videos and she'd always do her makeup on you to see what it would look like

She also does voiceovers on your own makeup videos, or a day in the life, or something

The fans always eat it up too cause Rhea's commentary is hilarious

Whenever you're backstage and Rheas going to take photos, she’ll ask you to do the shoot with her so that her fans, and yours, can get sexy pictures of you both to thirst over

Totally not because she loves seeing you both look like that and wants a picture for her lock screen

Rhea started a war of bad facetime screenshots between the two of you on Instagram and you're determined to win

To the point that you have called people to interfere in the background while Rheas at work to get a bad reaction photo out of her

She's too proud to admit it, but it's worked several times

Your tiktok has pretty much become a house reno account

You build all the furniture and shit, make the cool decorations and put them up, paint, do everything yard-eorl related while Rhea picks out what's pretty and the pretty colors

She'll also help you carry heavy stuff around cause she's jacked and you like watching her work but she mainly kinda just like, flounces around

The fans are dying for the two of you to have a show on HGTV together

Which may or may not be in the works

SCARY DOG TREND

It went VIRAL

that's how most mosherz were introduced to you as Rhea’s partner

You started vlogging, though not very often, just so that you could have the permanent memories of all the different experiences between you and Rhea

You only post like once a week but people eat it UP

You have your own merch now

Most of its the two of you but there is a shirt or two thats just one of you

There are mercy plushies of both Barry and Luna that you always have to put up for pre-order cause they sell out in seconds

Clothes for said plushies are in the works

She posts little video clips of you on her story the same way she does her dogs

And it's always the embarrassing ones where you're completely cuddled into her and shit

She got Saints of the Undead (the people who make her leather jackets) to make you a personalized one as well even though you don't wrestle

It's your favorite thing in the world and you wear it more than you should

Like it matches with nothing that you're wearing it with

But, it says “Mami’s” on the back of it so you make sure to wear it especially when you go with her to Raw, Smackdown, any povs, etc so that people know you belong to her

#rhea ripley #the judgement day #wwe raw #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #the judgment day #tjd x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day wwe #the judgment day x reader

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spacexseven · 1 year

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Thinking about a lil au idea of DOA or Rats of the House of the dead being basically your cult in the god reader idea.

Of course, the other “members” of the cult don’t see you in that much of a big light as Fyodor does (he’s the only one to be THAT devoted to you, really). But they are still members, and little by little they just

Start to like the idea wholeheartedly.

(I love the god reader idea so much it has me in a chokehold rn)

!! anime only's, you have been warned! the following includes spoilers for 2/3 of the unknown (as of now) members of the doa, and other stuff involving the doa.

i'm not writing for kamui 'cos this was a little long as it was. also am sticking w doa 'cos im more comfortable writing for nikolai, sigma and my little vampire rockstar :^^

cw: its kind of a cult, yandere themes (near the end)

you had always known that the rats were only the beginning of fyodor's reign.

and maybe he knew that too—you could hear the soft smile in his voice when he asked you if you thought that the decay of the angel was a better-suited name for an organization that would carry out his plans and catalyze the great destruction you always said he would bring. you don't grace him with an answer, though even you have to agree that it was a name that, once uttered, could unsettle the bravest souls and fill them with trepidation. it was a fitting choice; symbolic, powerful, and ominous.

if anything, the other members were just as unpredictable and unnerving as fyodor was to you once. nikolai was the first you met. you later learned that he went against fyodor's words to come see you, seized by curiosity. bitterly, you realized that the reason why he stared at you so much was because he was studying you, like one would an insect. you almost wanted to seize some of that divine order you had and strike him down for being so blatant about his interest. but when you thought about how fyodor could never look you in the eyes, and how lonely it was as his god, you found yourself taking a liking to the eccentric clown.

there was a side to him, however, you're not sure you like at all. bloodied hands and a wicked grin to match, when anyone else seeks your time. fascination that was both lustful and violent in nature, and a possessive grip that didn't seem to let go of you.

"time for a quiz!" nikolai exclaims, "will the decay of the angel succeed?"

"of course," a wry smile plays at your lips, "who else has a god on their side?"

he laughs in response, loud and uninhibited. it's the most noise that's ever filled your room

sigma was a mystery that had too many missing pieces to be solved. a part of you could sympathize with him, having lost your own self to the blurred-together years and the exhaustion that came with being the only one with your level of sentience. however, you don't let yourself think about the book fyodor had used to create sigma, and what it meant to you. there are some things, you decide, that are best kept to yourself. some things that fyodor should never learn about.

sigma, in your first meeting, was slightly awkward; a perfectly natural response, but not in awe of your presence, not like fyodor. his voice was firm, but not unkind, and his words were respectful, but not...obedient. it was perfect.

in sigma, you found an unlikely friend. he told you about the mundane happenings in the outside world; a customer caught cheating, an employee that struggled to keep up, all the paperwork that was involved in the running of a casino in the sky. these things, as compared to your daily life, were nothing of the sort you would care about, but you listened all the same. regardless, you could tell sigma appreciated the sentiment.

you, however, don't appreciate his strange habits. recently, you think, he's been acting a little too much like fyodor. as much as you liked sigma for the natural ease that you felt by his presence, you couldn't brush off the ominous feeling that came with sigma seeking you out more and more. you start feeling like he's looking for validation of some kind from you, one you didn't wish to provide in fear that he may find this an encouragement. he reaches out for your hand often, something you might find amusing if not for the way his hand trembles.

"are you planning to leave?" nikolai, knowing the fool, must have said something to scare sigma.

"no," you say simply, "not yet."

"so you will leave," sigma frowns. you've seen that look directed to many a clumsy employee and messy files, but never to you. it's almost frightening, "don't you like it here?"

"besides, i..." he stops himself, "dostoevsky won't let you go. and...i don't want you to either. you should stay. we take care of you too, don't we?

unlike most people, you weren't surprised to see bram stoker. though in your memory, he was a lot more...whole and formidable of an opponent. more than that, you remembered him as a man turned into a monster that brought unimaginable destruction because of an ability he never asked for. it was a strange reminder of how much had really changed over the years. now, he seemed sullen, and defeated; it was a depressing sight.

now, he was exhausted. you could tell he didn't want to be here, with the decay of the angel. you could also tell that something was terribly wrong with the sword that was inside him and the pained look in his eyes. fyodor tells you of a kamui when he brings the coffin in, and just by the current state of bram and the utterance of his name, you know already you would not get along with him.

bram doesn't ask you questions, not about why you were here, or what you were doing for all those years. he doesn't explain his situation, and you don't pry. you can put the pieces together by yourself, and when it dawns on you what the kamui planned to do with bram, you realize that there were greater evils than fyodor.

there's a silent solidarity between you and bram, perhaps stemming from being something non-human. you get him the radio he's always wanted, insist that he be allowed to converse with you more often, and so on. these days, bram talks more, and it almost feels like you're talking to an old friend. bram's lived through some, though not most, of the things you have, and he remembers what nobody else does. you wonder, one day, if the two of you could have been friends had you met a lot earlier, and if you hadn't brushed off the news about the vampire ability user the first time. when you voice this out to him, bram has the most adorable reaction. your words make his eyes widen and, stupified, cause him to awkwardly change the topic, fumbling over his next few words.

ah, now you really wish you went to see him earlier.

it's that odd sensation of having a friend, caring for another, that urges you to offer your help to bram. you tell him you can get him out of here, out of the mortal angels' grasp; somewhere safe. you say you can help him regain his former state, help him survive within the shadows of humanity, like you had before. kamui, fyodor, or the doa; nothing will be able to stop you if you really wanted to make it happen, regardless of how complacent you were now.

at the very least, you thought, he might be pleased. grateful. maybe not elated, but, at the very least, relieved. instead, bram looked shocked. you can't tell if the idea horrifies him because he doesn't think you can do it, or because he believes that the decay of the angel was the only connection you had to him. perhaps he thought that saving him, freeing him, would also mean removing yourself from his life. you almost felt bad—you were very likely bram stoker's only friend in his miserable life.

still, you're not quite sure what to think when he extends his stay and starts contemplating, seriously, to cooperate with kamui. you can't wrap your mind around why he'd want to stay, and the possible loss of so many lives as a result unsettles you deeper than it does him, but he's steadfast in his decision. he tells you, with an unfamiliar tinge of scorn, that he was tired of trying to protect people, when all they did was try to kill him.

"if you're so sure, i suppose i'll have to stay here with you." concern weighs heavily on your mind, but more than that, suspicion lingers.

bram smiles, then, and seemingly relaxes in his coffin. an uncomfortable feeling seizes your chest. how had you not noticed?

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 7 months

Text

Burning Up

TW: Delirium, fever (symptoms described), mentioned pills (medicine, I swear)

What is this? It's the fluff snippet I promised my lovely nemesis @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 , and I really hope you enjoy this < 3 < 3

"Are you alright?"

The words seemed to snap the heroine abruptly out the void of her own muddled up thoughts, feeling as though her head were stuffed with cotton, everything an incoherent blur.

"Yes," she still answered back anyway, a trained response, one that stopped people from prying any further, from looking disappointed. It was the answer they really wanted to hear, even if it really disproved the question's validity.

Except the villain didn't smile, and he didn't leave the way he was supposed to. His brows were furrowed, and his arms were folded across his chest, and even though the hero didn't say anything, she just knew she didn't enjoy the sight.

She'd always hated it when he frowned, when he wasn't smiling, or wasn't even wearing the cocky smirk he always brought to their fights. She couldn’t tell what exactly in her response had warranted such a reaction from the criminal, but the guilt twisting knots at the pit of her stomach was very palpable.

As she stepped closer to him, pulling her rigid, aching muscles into a fighting stance; anything to distract him, the attempt hindered by her sluggish movements, all she'd managed to do was stumble towards him, losing her balance humiliatingly fast. It was only her luck that the villain's reflexes were still as razor-sharp as always, rapidly pulling her into his arms and steadying her with his weight.

And he was warm, and blissfully so, his grip firm but never unkind. As fervently as the crime-fighter wanted to lie down, the villain's embrace was comfortable, comfortable to the point that her train of thoughts, broken and destined to crash seemed to steady a bit, the world losing its edge of murkiness for just a moment.

Carefully, the villain pulled away and pressed his hand to her forehead, immediately retracting it away as if he'd been burnt. The guilt resurfaced again, an old, unwelcome demon resurrected, even more so as his frown deepened.

He let out a soft curse. "What were you thinking? Trying to fight when you're like this? You're burning up!" he interjected, his eyes wide, and a note of concern in his voice mixed in with the annoyance.

Except all her mind chose to focus on was the villain's choice of words to describe her state. 'Burning up', as he'd called it, didn't seem too far-fetched from the fire in her head, practically sizzling across her flushed skin, bile rising at the back of her irritated throat, her sore muscles burning with the pain, every movement agonising. Even if she couldn't see that she was burning, literally burning, it felt exactly as though she was.

"You're coming home with me, right now. Whatever ludicrous reason you might have for pulling this bloody stunt, I don't want to hear it," he stated, blunt as always, lifting the hero into a bridal carry almost as though it was second nature to him.

And in the midst of her delirious state, the hero hadn't memorised the route he'd taken home in his car, or how he'd accessed his lair, probably not being able to tell it was a lair as he carried her up into his actual residence. In a different state, the heroine's uncanny attention to detail would have engraved it all into her memory. She only registered the arms that were around her, and the pain that racked her body; her mind becoming too primitive to notice much beyond what she could physically feel.

Soon enough, she found herself being laid down on silk sheets. a thick blanket being drawn over her, and he took her temperature and he swore again, letting out a tired sigh. And just when the villain was about to leave the room. . ."D-don't g. . .go," she slurred, her fingers gripping onto his sleeve as firmly as she could manage.

"I'll just get a couple things for your fever. Won't take me long, I promise." Something in the villain's demeanour shifted, his gaze softening for a mere moment, except he doubted the heroine would take note of it.

There was no doubt about the fact that she would realise she wasn't holding onto his sleeve anymore as he left.

He came back with a cold compress, a glass of water and a bottle of pills, sitting himself at the edge of the bed. Carefully, with a gentleness she'd never known the villain to be capable of, he placed the compress on her forehead, the coolness heavenly against her burning, sweat-slick skin. "Okay, I just need you to sit up and swallow these," he said, and he knew full-well that if she was in a better state she wouldn't have taken the medication so willingly, ergo, she wouldn't have trusted him so willingly. He couldn't help it as a pang of guilt seemed to crawl across his skin, but he shook it off anyway, focusing his attention on steadying the heroine's shaking hands and making sure she swallowed those pills.

He realised he hated seeing the hero, his supposed nemesis, struggling to lift her head up and put it back down, every movement clearly agony for her. He'd imagined he'd revel in her weakness, but right now, nothing of the sort had happened.

The villain had found a washcloth in one of the drawers, using some of the remaining water in the glass to wet it and wipe the sweat off her face and neck, his fingers carding through her hair absently as he pushed himself inwards onto the bed, letting Hero huddle into his form for warmth.

"Y-you're. . .gorgeous," she rasped out, staring into the villain's eyes, taking in the features of his face, his figure, all of him, even in this clouded state.

"What?" he blurted out, completely taken aback, but still continuing to stroke through the heroine's hair.

"Haven't you seen yourself?" she questioned incredulously, as though it was the most obvious thing in existence.

The villain smirked in response, "Well, I guess I'm not narcissistic enough for your point to stick."

"Villain I. . .I'm in love with you," the hero admitted, and he'd never heard her voice so laden with conviction before, not when she'd promised to defeat him, and not any other time ever, her eyes locking with his own, her gaze unrelenting.

Sure, it still irked the villain that when the heroine had confessed her love to him, she'd been delirious, and that her strong emotion could possibly be a result of the aforementioned delirium, but that didn't mean these words held no weight or that the way the hero had regarded him - was still regarding him, had no effect on him.

So for once in his life, the villain sucked in a sharp breath and decided to risk it. "I'm in love with you too," he stage-whispered, carefully shifting the hero so that she was lying down on his lap and kissing her forehead gently.

Some locks are easy to pick, others not so much. That does not mean opening them is impossible, just that it may take a little longer to find the key. Most people aren't aware of what they are capable of feeling, of doing when their heart starts to beat for someone else. But they can never find out unless they have the courage to face the daunting possibility of taking the chance offered to them because love doesn't knock on the door; it walks in announced, and you get to choose what to do about it.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi@those-damn-snippets @whatiswhumpblog

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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callmissrogers · 2 months

Text

There For His Girl | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short

Summary: Y/n has reached her limit. Work has been difficult. People have been short, and some just mean. It all brings her back to her childhood, and right now, she just wants to pretend to be ok. So determined to pretend she tries to push her concerned husband away.

WARNINGS ⚠️ This contains mentions of a toxic relationship with the reader's mother and quotes some of their arguments. If this is a trigger for you, please DO NOT proceed. It also contains angst, fluff, and comfort. Also, very little editing and wrote on my phone.

Steve Rogers x wife reader

Word count: 1,370

Notes: The next part in the That's My Girl series will be going up today or tomorrow. I was feeling the need for some comfort myself, so this is what I wrote. Hope you like it!

Y/n slammed the door, tears streaming down her face she pressed her back into the wall and slid down until she was a small ball on the floor.

"Why do I do this?" She sobbed hating herself.

Y/n had had a rough few days. It seemed like no matter what she did or said, people were short with her. Everything was going wrong, and after one mistake, which led to a snarky backhanded compliment from Tony Stark himself, well, Y/n was done. Usually, it didn't get to her like this anymore, but her emotions frayed to a breaking point.

Her dad always told her she wore her heart on her sleeve but she just thought her mom was right and that instead of enduring this made her a nuisance.

Why should she be so bothered when people utter unkind things to her?

Why can't she pull herself together?

"You're always start crying! Stop trying to make me feel bad"

"You're stabbing me in the back by trying to do something different"

"Don't you know I need you here? Stop thinking about yourself and making everything harder on me"

This and many other instances where y/n would be belittled, ridiculed, screamed at, lectured for two hours at 1 in the morning, and reduced to making herself as small and as unseen as possible while being a sobbing mess, had made her what she is today.

Too sensitive. At least that's what she told herself at times like this.

And why couldn't she just talk about it like a normal person instead of blowing something trivial out of proportion?

Literally five minutes ago....

Steve had come home the night before. Poor guy had been so tired that he fell asleep in uniform on the couch.

Y/n had been carefully tiptoeing around the kitchen so as not to accidentally wake him up. Intending to surprise him before heading to work.

She was supposed to be going over mission plans with Vision today. This was the kind of work that excited her. None of the agents would bother them while they were working, which meant that she could just disappear for the day.

She platted up breakfast and carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the sleep soilder.

Tho he didn't actually wake up until she set down his mug of coffee.

Eyes fluttering open he peered up at her groggyily. "Hi" He mumbled, pushing himself upright. "Hey sleepy head." Y/n said, trying to make her voice sound chipper.

Steve sighed contentedly as he stretched out his muscles before standing up.

"Mind if I go change clothes before I enjoy this masterpiece?" He asked. Y/n turned to face him, attempting to smooth down his wild bedhead and then said, "Go ahead"

He was back a matter of moments, settling down next to her and drinking deeply from his coffee.

"Thank you for this," He sighed leaning over and gently kissing her on the cheek. Y/n just nodded, trying to keep her mind on a healthy track she focused on eating.

"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked. Taking another bite, she thought about lying and telling him that she had had the best night sleep.

"Sorta" She said trying to stiffle a yawn. "What does sorta mean?" Steve asked turning to look at her. "Nothing really. I'm good! Nothing some strong coffee won't fix."

Steve placed his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. He studied the dark circles, the faint tint of bloodshot in her eyes, how she held herself and her fiddling hands.

"Hm," He said, his voice low in his chest.

Y/n knew exactly what he was doing, shaking his hands off her shoulders and standing up she said, "I should probably get ready for work."

Steve stood up, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "Y/n, you look exhausted." "I'm fine" "You're twirling your hair, which means you're not telling the truth." "Steve, c'mon I don't have time for this" "Y/n, it looks like you've been crying" She pulled his hand off her wrist and started to walk away from him, "I'm going to work." "Sweetheart, please just tell me what's - " "Steve! Please just listen to me and leave me alone!" She yelled, cutting him off. She ran off to the bedroom, and that's when the door slammed.

Steve stood there a moment, thinking about honoring her request and leaving her be. But his protective nature overtook him and he decided that the best thing to do would be to be there for his girl.

In the bedroom.

Y/n sat against the wall still crying into her hands, body trembling, thinking hateful thoughts about herself.

She heard Steve knock on the door, saying "Sweetheart, can I come in?"

When she didn't answer him, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

She could feel him kneeling down in front of her, "Sweetheart," He whispered, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear to which she only buried her face further.

The next thing that happened, was Steve scooping her up into his arms and settling down in the arm chair that sat in the room.

Somehow this just made her cry more.

"Oh honey, come on now. Take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth." He soothed.

After about ten minutes of this, her crying settled down, breath becoming rhythmic.

Once he was sure that she had calmed down enough to be able to communicate with him, he asked his voice low and rumbling through his chest, "Do you wanna talk about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

She nodded against his shirt. "Everything" she gasped. "Everything?" He asked, pulling her back so he could look her in the face. Dabbing away the leftover tears.

"I'm too emotional. Everything the last few days just hurts. I let everything get under my skin... I just. . Lately, people and Stark are just mean, or maybe I'm just too sensitive.. and now I've yelled at you, too." She said, trying to get up.

"Now hold on a minute, " He cooed, keeping her in place.

"What did Tony say?" "Nothing. I messed up and he was being sarcastic, but I'm such a mess that it hurt" she said her voice breaking. "Alright. Listen to me. One, you are not too emotional. The world tells everyone to button up and be cynical. You, my dear, are a light in all that mess. You do care and that's a very good thing -- I don't want you to listen to anyone that would belittle that, ok?" He asked getting a slow, uncertain nod in response. "Ok. Secondly, people can be mean, especially Stark. People also have power trips and want to pull people down to make themselves feel stronger or better. This means there's one thing you can always be certain of: Do you know what that is?" "What?" "They're wrong. Anyone who would belittle you to make a point or to win an argument or for any other reason, is just a bully." "But what if-" "ah. No what ifs. Thirdly, and this one is the one that's most important of the three." "Then why'd it come last?" She asked clearly beginning to feel a little bit better if she could tease him now. Steve simply rolled his eyes and continued,

"I want you to remember that when you're upset, you can always talk to me. No matter how silly it might make you feel, your feelings are safe with me." "Steve I just yelled at you for no rea-" "No. You had a reason. You were upset. I can see that and you know what that means? It means I can take it too. When I put this ring on your finger," He said taking her hand in his and running a finger across her knuckles. "I signed up for this. I'd rather have you get emotional than bottle things up and hide them from me."

Y/n looked down at their still intertwined hands and then back up at him. Nodding again and breathed out an "ok"

"Ok." Steve replied, giving her his usual comforting smile and kissing her forehead.

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johnrossbrrr · 5 months

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I don't get it because when Rae gave Claire the amulet Claire was confused because she believed Rae truly has feelings for her but in this week's episode she's back to not believing it?

Hi, thanks for the ask anon. Happy to provide my take. Hope you're ready for a long post.

I guess we have to start with how our two girls are flawed as characters. Claire has two big things that she has to work through. First she lives in a pretty rigid world, and she has been raised a noble, and is expected to act like a noble. While she has a high standard for what she thinks a noble should be, this world view has only started to be challenged and her truths aren't really being truths anymore. When Matt the commoner got badly hurt by Yu’s attendant and she saw how that unfolded the cracks started to form. To her that was wrong, nothing about that should have happened like that but it did. I’ll be spoiler light to start, but going forward her assumptions about a lot of things are going to be challenged and change doesn’t happen overnight. So what does this mean for Rae and her? Well in short they are incompatible in her mind, and even if she wanted something, that doesn’t matter because she has to be a proper noble and proper nobles do not get together with commoners. Factor into that that she has expected that she will do what a proper noble lady will do, and that is to marry a proper noble man. As I mentioned before Claire holds the idea of being a noble to a very high standard, to her it’s an important role and carries a lot of responsibility and she puts a lot of her self worth into the idea.

So we get this line, ‘I’m me and you’re you. I’m a noble and you’re a commoner. Nothing more, nothing less.” Honestly I love this line, cause it's why Claire is tragic. She won't allow herself to act on her wants, and the thing is, even if it takes her a while to come to terms with it. She does want Rae. It’s why she never lets the amulet go, and we will see it again. There is a reason it's part of the closing credits.

Now secondly, and this sort of feeds into the previous point, a part of Claire believes she can not be loved, and that she deserves it. She does not think that love fits into the ideal of a Noble, and while she gushed at Thane at first, I think that it mostly because she was acting in a way that she thought she was expected to. She is a very high ranking noble, and so she should aspire to the best wife possible. I’m not saying she didn’t have a crush on, but I do think these expectations she placed on herself put a lot of weight into that crush, and if we pay attention to what’s going on between these two? Thane spoke against his father to help them in court and save Lene’s life. Afterwards what did she do? She was with Rae, they celebrated and she never brought him up. As we saw in her flashback, Claire lost her mother at a very young age, and the last thing she told her mother was that she hated her. This is the root for her self value, and when Lene is exiled it’s like opening an old wound for her. Claire thinks she is unkind and unlovable.

This is a huge source of self doubt for Claire, and there is a part of her that thinks she will drive away everyone in her life. There is a part of her that blames herself for Lene leaving, that if she had paid more attention, tried harder, been better things would have turned out better. So how does Rae factor into this? Terrible, at least from Claire’s initial perspective. Rae comes in, being incredibly silly, and spouting what’s to her is nonsense, about being in love with her. It puts her guards up because she has this self doubt, she thinks she is being played, used. It doesn’t help when Rae seemingly changes her father’s mind by dropping a single name. And it really doesn’t help that Rae never explains anything to her and so rarely acts genuine. Claire is perceptive, she knows how to read people and play the social scene. We see it when she comes to Rae’s rescue in the cafe. She knows something is up with Rae, and she isn’t going to figure it out until Rae tells her.

So let's talk about Rae now. Rae, narratively speaking is misleading, from the beginning she set the expectation that this is going to be silly, as a series (and it is) but then we get more serious moments, like Misha asking if she is gay and then we start to see the depth to her. So We have this moment.

In the manga Rae doesn’t explain anything in the moment to Claire, outside of saying she is her guiding light. She doesn’t want anything from Claire expect for to be happy. In the Anime she still doesn’t explain everything but she does say a lot more, and if I’m being frank I think it runs against why it works. Without Rae’s explanation, it keeps Rae a mystery to Claire, hard to pin down and potentially dangerous, no matter how alluring or happy she makes her. And I think this is what makes a lot of Manaria, and the Scale of Love arc work so well.

Rae’s flaws mirror’s Claire’s. She doesn’t think Claire can love her, and it’s why she acts the way she does. She is ultimately avoiding being hurt, Rae is a silly person, but she acts it up and she acts it up a lot. She makes her love for Claire seem like a joke. Because if it’s a joke, then the appropriate reaction is to just laugh and not think about it. Claire will of course reject her because she was never being serious. And this way she won't reject her for real. Because that would hurt too much. Driving Claire away for real is the worst thing that could happen in Rae’s mind.

Also like Claire, her world view and assumptions are working against her. Rae grew up being gay in highschool in Japan. It’s something she talks about later and we won't see it animated unless there is a season 2, but it wasn't a great experience and she is carrying a bunch of her own baggage from Japan. She wants a relationship with Claire, but in her mind that is impossible.

And Rae’s knowledge of the world as a game is working against her for this. She is making huge assumptions about Claire because she thinks she knows everything about her, she even claims to know more about the game then the game devs do. The worst assumption is that Claire is straight, and that Claire will be happy with Thane.

These flaws are the friction in the relationship, and it’s as they both unpack and untether themselves from those flaws, their relationship grows. We have had stirrings in Claire up to this point, but to her Rae’s flaws are making it hard for her to trust her, and coming up in this arc we are going to see Rae have to start to confront her own flaws.

Before Manaria shows up, Rae is stuck in this limbo. She thinks she is happy to be around Claire, and to take care of her but it’s not going great. Lene is gone and it’s been hard on Claire. Rae is trying to use her usual methods to cheer up Claire but it’s not really working. I think this addition from the anime is stellar actually. Lindsay Sheppard nails it in the English version.

It’s said in such a fond way, but it’s solemn. She wants Rae around, but she does not see how it can ever happen. A part of her thinks that whatever relationship she has with Rae, is doomed to end just like Lene, and her mother.

So enters Manaria. God Rae needs a kick and pants and Manaria is here to do that. Rae needs to grow for the things to happen and this is probably one of my favorite parts of the series.

That made sense right? I hope this makes sense, honestly these two have been living in head so much that last couple months.

#i'm in love with the villainess #im in love with the villainess #watashi no oshi wa akuyaku reijou #iftv #rae taylor #claire francois #ask #me #musings #god I feel like I could say more #i like flawed characters #who would have guessed

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

To Cry Uncle

🐦‍⬛ Alright, alright, let's get this show on the road 🐦‍⬛

Does Two of us make a Murder of Crows? … Or an Unkindness of Ravens?

BAM!!

The door slammed open, rattling the attic from its impact. Scattered papers shook, and even the inky letters spilled onto them seemed to tremble too.

A man in a top hat and feathered cape barreled in. From her writing desk, a girl cloaked in the same sleek, dark feathers bristled and set down her quill.

"U-Uncle?! Don't scare me like that," Raven gently chided him. "You could have at the very least considered knocking before barging in unannounced."

It was something which the headmaster of Night Raven College made a habit to do. Lectures, labs—he arrived whenever he pleased, then disappeared just as quickly. Some called him a whimsical genius (well, usually it came from his own mouth), but most called him mad and unpredictable.

But today he wore a frown instead of a smile, was less bird-like and more pitiable kitten drenched in the rain. Dragging out a sigh and a sob, Crowley threw his arms around Raven. His talons dug into his mark, the other hand woefully stroking her hair—hair which would have dampened if he had released any real tears.

"Raven-kun!!" he cried out, “Oh, it’s awful! Dreadful! The most preposterous thing happened to me on my morning stroll. You’ll hear me out, won’t you, my dear niece?”

Awful? Dreadful? Preposterous? More awful, dreadful, and preposterous than the slew of Overblots that had plagued their once-peaceful academy? She had her doubts, but entertained him nevertheless.

"… Alright, what has got you so out of sorts?" Raven asked wearily. (Her question came out muffled, on account of being pressed against her guardian’s chest.) She had learned to be patient with him, but prepared for the catastrophizing.

Perhaps the cafeteria ran out of his favorite meat pies. He’s been looking forward to that all week.

“I found a gaggle of students skipping class!” Crowley burst out, breaking their hug. Exaggerated distress turned his voice into a trill. “On Main Street, of all places! Before the very eyes of the most venerable Great Seven! They would surely be heartbroken to know that the children of today sullied the good name of Night Raven College!”

Raven tried to nod understandingly and pat his back. Quiet methods of coaxing him to let it all out

“Of course, I did my due diligence as headmaster of this esteemed institution and confronted the boys at once,” Crowley continued—puffing with a pinch of pride at the mention of his status before soon deflating. “Ooh, but I was so rudely rebuked!! The students ignored my very reasonable plea to return to class, then proceeded to ignore or insult me—ME!! Their beloved headmaster!

"Belittled and bullied by my very own pupils…" He sniffed loudly. "It’s a cruel fate, but someone has to discipline ignorant, misbehaving children--and so it fell upon my shoulders! I unleashed my Lash of Love upon them and deposited the hooligans back in Professor Trein's lecture!"

"You did what you could to resolve the situation, Uncle," Raven replied, her words carefully stroking his ego. "You are ever so magnanimous."

"I am, aren't I!" Crowley agreed. "Alas, a teacher's work is thankless! What has come of the younger generation?! And what have I done to deserve this kind of treatment? All I've ever done is work tirelessly to ensure that our Night Raven College provides high-quality education!"

"Well... You don't exactly command authority with your attitude or how you carry yourself. Truly, when most picture the archetype of a 'headmaster of an arcane academy', they tend to imagine someone... different. If you want to be perceived differently, it may help to present new parts of yourself to the students."

Like maybe actually doing your job instead of delegating tasks to teenagers and having them solve all your problems..

"Show them your strengths and good points," Raven suggested, "traits worthy of respect."

Crowley's beady, golden eyes suddenly lit up. They bore into Raven from the pitch-black holes in his mask.

"That’s it!" he declared, perking up. “If I’m to garner respect, I ought to try and demonstrate the true breadth of my kindness. Perhaps then they will take note of the power hierarchy and bend an ear to my commands!”

“Er, that’s not exactly what I meant…”

Crowley swept away from her, beginning to pace back and forth. A finger curled at his chin, his mind set in deep contemplation.

“The issue now is, how will I appear approachable to begin with? My visage is far too grand to tamp down, and I’m afraid my decades of wisdom are useless against accusations of being ‘old’ and ‘out of touch’!!“

Those comments really hit him hard, huh…

“Have you considered taking up a hobby instead of fixating on public opinion? It just may help you clear your thoughts.” Raven gestured at her desk. “I myself partake in writing as an outlet.”

In an instant, the headmaster was at her side. He nosily peered over his niece, practically leering down at the contents of her papers.

Stories that started with Once upon a times and then diverged, walking along a multitude of paths to endings yet to be determined. Heroes and villains and the people that supported them, coming together in grand casts. New places, new experiences, new feelings.

Connections, ways of bridging the gap between hearts.

“H-Hey…! I never said you could look. These are private projects,” Raven protested, hurrying to cover up her scripts.

Too late. A giddy shine had already risen to the headmaster’s eyes.

Oh no. I know that look!

“Dearest Raven,” Crowley cooed, a clawed hand finding its way onto her shoulder, “how generous of you to lend your assistance to your sad old uncle! Fufufu, it appears as though the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!"

"What are you on about now?" It slowly dawned on her, and she paled. “Don’t tell me…”

"This is the solution for my... I mean, our predicament!" Crowley lifted a paper and a waved it around like a triumphant flag. “Written word has the power to influence. With your help, we can conduct an interview, spread stories of my great kindness and power, sway the consensus!”

Ah, a coordinated PR strategy. Raven frowned. His usual fallback.

The trick would work on most people beyond the campus grounds, but not on the students within. Not when there was already a narrative in place: the tale of the carefree, bumbling, useless man at the helm of the school. Pitiable, easily kicked around. And there was some truth to it--truth that could only be twisted so far before it fell into the realm of outright fantasy.

Most did not realize how truly frightening a man cloaked by the shadows could be.

“I understand wanting to spruce up your image, but there is only so much that can do for you. People will believe what they want to believe, regardless of what new information is presented to them."

Raven sighed, picking her quill back up and dipping it in an inkwell. Rich black fluid, darker than the darkest night, rose up into the nib. She offered the writing implement to her guardian, who stared at it in confusion.

"If you want their views on you to change, that is something you will have to earn for yourself. The words must come straight from its source and be genuine."

“Raven-kun…”

She pressed the quill into Crowley’s palm.

From here on out, the story is up to you.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Dire Crowley #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #upcoming blog event...#you asked #now I deliver #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk

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spontaneousglitterbees · 3 months

Text

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The paper has it spelled out like sunrise over a lake; she can’t help but look at it until she has to make herself look away. Her first ‘client’, the fellow student she’s meant to be shadowing for the week, the person she is tasked with protecting if she wants to pass this class after transferring in partway through the semester is none other than–

“Ooh, bad luck.”

(Part of the TAPP AU, also on Ao3)

Ouma’s voice squeaks out from beside her upper arm so suddenly she flinches.

“Oh please, Harukawa, don’t tell me I caught you off guard. That’s like, your entire thing, now!” he sounds so jovial, without a care in the world, but his chest heaves as though he also just shuddered down to the core.

“You did this.” She states it without room for uncertainty.

“Why the hell would I do that?” he flicks his hand toward the sheet of printer paper pinned to the corkboard, the one that has condemned them for the next one-hundred-sixty-eight hours. It’s up there for the whole school to see. “It’s not even my MO to hack this school’s ancient copy machine, or whatever, I’m out for a good time. Besides, I’d like to live, thanks much.”

Maki is entirely unimpressed. “It is precisely your MO to stomp on my nerves in every way you can,” she enunciates with each step forward.

His grip tightens around the handle of his cane, still smiling. His knuckles threaten to rip themselves to shreds.

“Actually,” a voice chimes in, stern but not unkind. “It makes perfect sense, does it not? You are both in Class 79, which ought to alleviate some of the initial awkwardness.”

Silver hair catching the artificial overhead light, teaching assistant and upperclassman Peko Pekoyama overshadows the pair from behind. “Besides, as the Ultimate…” her eyes narrow, incredulous. “... Supreme Leader, Ouma is going to need a security detail someday.”

Maki glares up at her for all of a split second before dutifully lowering her gaze. It's less that the Ultimate Swordsman is intimidating than that she's so... coldly supportive. The kind of person whose praise is lined with mist and whose fury is a downpour. It'd be a shame to disappoint her, especially over Kokichi, of all people.

"Oh, but Peko-peko-chan, don't you know? Maki and I have been sworn enemies since we were kids! You'd really let that mean ol' teacher pair me up with my nemesis?! That's so cruel!" Kokichi leans in on his cane for leverage, arms crossed in front of him as he acts out the phrase in big, encompassing gestures. That's a lie. But...

Unfortunately for both of them, it only seems to reassure Peko that the path forward is clear. "It'll be a fine challenge for the both of you, then. You’ll be able to focus on two objectives at once: gaining experience staying alert, and equal experience working with difficult clients.”

Kokichi scoffs in the background, of course, but it's hardly worth arguing. He tries to get in your head and stay there, after all. If anything, being ‘difficult’ is a point of pride for him. His eye still seems to twitch a little at the admission. It’s probably just the dry autumn air.

Maki, inventing new curses in her head and keeping them there, nods sagely. "Of course, Ms. Pekoyama. I won't let you down."

She looks over to her current mark.

It's going to be a long week.

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

The week starts off innocuous enough. The worst of it comes at the beginning of each day as Kokichi pulls his books out of his locker. Literature, World History, ... Calculus II? Each slams into the floor with a resounding thud, one after another. Some of them won't even see use until near the end of the school day, but he insists she carry them now. Spiteful little shit.

Many of their general education classes are shared to begin with, fortunately, meaning the two of them simply have to walk between classes together for a while. It isn’t quite embarrassing as much as it is frustrating for Maki. Does he even really need a cane, or is it just a ploy to get the teacher’s sympathy? They saunter down the hallway in either case, uncaring of the actual time they arrive. Five minutes late, ten minutes, even; neither incurs a penalty, a bit of an affront to her own persistent punctuality. ‘This school is his’ indeed.

No. The real trouble starts brewing during their free periods.

"The autumn leaves are home to a variety of bug species," lectures Gonta, sitting cross-legged in the courtyard. Kokichi sits beside him, dredging through a pile of leaves; pick up, flip, sort, over and over. Maki remains stock-still and focused on defense. Peko could be hiding around any given corner, assisting a teacher lying in wait for an ambush just to make a point about vigilance.

But it’s a bit hard to stay on edge when things are so… unremarkable. So normal.

"As an example, early-emerging populations of Actias luna in North America lay eggs on the undersides of leaves to keep larvae and pupas safe during winter until the adults appear in March." Despite Gonta’s better efforts choosing a more palatable bug for discussion, neither Kokichi nor Maki seems to be paying actual attention.

"Which has to be why the leaf piles make such a good crunch when you jump in'em, riiiiight?" Kokichi teases, crushing the pile of leaves he's sorted beneath the base of his palm. He throws his back into the motion with a sadistic smile. It breaks into the same mischievous laugh as usual soon after, nishishi~!

Gonta, however, seems unalarmed; perhaps he sees the un-smashed pile, the ones with even just the potential to have 'stuff on'em'. Instead, he smiles. "That might be the beetles, they love hiding in leaves."

"Ewwww!" Kokichi wipes his hand on his pants, despite the distinct lack of bug entrails on them. "Great! Gonta, you can't just ruin fall like that! Now I'm gonna be thinking about nasty beetles when I just wanted to have some fun..." he makes a point to frown, but seeing no real reaction the expression disappears as quickly as it came.

"I not– I'm not ruining fall, it's too hot out to be real fall. It's messing with the bugs’ hibernation cycles...."

Maki finds she's won a fourth consecutive mental game of tic-tac-toe with herself before she finally sighs. Would it be out of line to suggest going inside? Perhaps a more enclosed space will help her readjust to the objective.

Before she can suggest such a thing, Kokichi beats her to it.

“Yeah, it’s waaaay too hot out for September, I’m beat. Harukawa-chan, can we go back inside now?” he doesn’t bother to pout, eyes going from half-lidded to three-quarters wide seeing the barely-contained irritation on Maki’s face.

“Gladly.” She stands without hesitation, turning to Gonta. “Thank you for having us.”

“Of course, is only polite thing to do,” smiles Gonta. Kokichi is a touch intrigued.

“What are you thanking him for, I bet you weren’t even listening! You haven’t taken that scowl off your face all day.” He leans a bit to his left, accentuating the roll of his eyes.

“I knew that you wouldn’t.” Maki says simply, opening the cold glass door.

Kokichi is shocked, appalled he’d tell you, with a loud gasp! Then he shrugs a little. “Eh. I wasn’t bored, anyway.”

Gonta waves, cheerful as ever, as the door swings shut.

The foot of his cane practically skids across the terrazzo tile as Kokichi takes off down the hall.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” Maki asks before she can think better of it; Ouma is still faster than she’d given him credit for.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Ultimate Assassin.” The reply comes quick and sharp, bitterness rising in his voice that hasn’t seen the light of day since well before the game ended.

Before she can ask ‘why now?’ or some such thing, as though there’s any logic behind what Ouma does in the first place, he’s looking at her expectantly from his perch just at the threshold of the main library doorway.

“Dunno about you, but I, for one, have homework. I’m looking for a book, silly, don’t you guys use those?” he shakes his head lightly, keeping the door open by leaning on it and waiting for her to go through. It takes a moment of the two staring at one another to determine who is going to relent; Maki walks a step inside as Kokichi beelines for the reading chairs.

Ah, the reading chairs. Only marginally more acceptable than the stiff, borderline crunchy upholstery of most of the furniture on campus. At least there’s no punishment for sitting on these. Surrounded by deep forest green carpets and a dim, subdued atmosphere one risks sinking into should they stay still for too long, the library is quiet. Starkly quiet. The sound of breathing itself seems to echo, not at all damped by the depth of archways and sub-sections of books and books upon books.

Kokichi looks idly up at the rafters, looking for something he must not find.

“What’s wrong?” Maki reluctantly asks, curiosity overpowering her better sense.

“It’s hot in here,” Ouma replies, his voice… uncharacteristically soft. It’s impossible to tell what emotion comes attached, if there is one at all.

“The air conditioning has been broken in this building all day, I hear.”

There is an awkward silence between them, an absolute vacuum of small-talk.

He takes a deep breath, only to look back over at Maki. “Welp. This place is huge, so. Might as well get crackin’, book’s not gonna find itself!” He smiles a little too wide for his face as he launches upright, looking over his shoulder and taking off into the canopy of books. “Be back in a bit!”

“Alright,” says Maki, striding over to meet him. “Where are we going first?”

Kokichi shakes his head. He’s sorely mistaken if he thinks it’ll be that easy to get rid of you. “Hmm, iunno. I’ll know it when I see it,” he chirps as he changes directions, taking a few dizzying turns before coming to a brief pause.

What is his problem? What does he get out of making this difficult for the both of you? Surely boredom can’t overtake the selfish want to do less work… yet, sure enough, he’s speed-walking away again.

Maki doesn’t need to look up to explain the sudden chill down her spine.

“Kiyo-chan! Fancy meetin’ you here,” Ouma laughs, stepping to the shelf opposite Korekiyo as Maki walks up to the two of them.

“Not exactly, Ouma, you know quite well I’ve been tasked with the maintenance of some of the anthropology department’s rarer books,” Kiyo shakes his head, adjusting his mask. “... No, I won’t be taking you to them. I was actually looking for a project on Minoan mythos in relation to pre-Hellenic…” he cuts himself off.

Really, Maki thinks to herself, it’s hard to believe this awkward kid could have been the monster he once was. That’s the thing about monsters, though, isn’t it? In real life they don’t have horns or tails like the minotaur….

“Say. What are you visiting the library for? Your field is not precisely predicated on a large literary basis, is it?”

“Kiyo-chaaaaan! No fair! Are you telling me I don’t look like I read? ‘Cuz I can read plenty, as long as it’s not BORING me to death!!” Kokichi leans on his cane, slightly swaying. “I like libraries. They’re like obstacle courses, and half the time nobody is even in them to get in the way!” he smiles. “But that’s a lie.”

“He’s looking for a book,” Maki chimes in, startling both Korekiyo and Kokichi back a few steps.

“Oh, is that all? What kind of book are you looking for, Ouma? Certainly I could be of assistance.” Kiyo nods, possibly(?) smiling, and at the very least visibly trying to maintain a less standoffish posture.

“That won’t be–”

“Binary star formation,” the two phrases come in at the same time. Kokichi continues, “and the history of their discovery.”

Kiyo stares at Kokichi for a moment, in (confusion? Disbelief? It’s difficult to tell, with so much of his face obscured and those piercing eyes ready to strike at any time…) before nodding. “Of course. I believe I recall where that one is, it was returned quite recently.”

Ouma stares idly into the distance for a split-second, an automaton re-calibrating on the fly. “Right. Duh, but I need it now, so.”

Sure enough, Korekiyo is only away for a matter of minutes before returning with a single large tome. The book seems more focused on general astronomical phenomena, but must have a chapter or two dedicated to binary stars. Should have picked something more obscure, Maki huffs at the thought, if you really just wanted to cause trouble. Let me guess, that isn’t–

“That’s exactly it!” says Kokichi, who excitedly starts flipping through the pages. Korekiyo looks like he wants to scold him, be more careful, but restrains himself from doing so. Nonetheless, the two share a look; Kokichi suddenly feels like maybe he should slow down, lest unsavory things happen to his nerves.

Just a feeling.

Things look, for once, to be going well again. Ouma is reading (or, at least, glaring at a page), freeing up Maki’s attention to better scope out the area.

… At least, until “Kiyo-chan? The text is so small, I can barely read a thing!”

Don’t get involved, don’t worry about it, Maki, you have a mission!

“Then why don’t you take it back to one of the reading areas? It’s certain to be brighter there.” Korekiyo shrugs, back to looking at the shelf ahead.

“Can’t you read it to me, Kiyo-chan? Pleeeease, you have such a nice reading voice!”

Korekiyo stops, for a moment, glaring at Kokichi. “And that’s a lie, certainly.”

“What! You’re calling me a liar! Kiyo-chan, that’s so, s-so,,” the tears start to well up, if only slightly. Is he losing his touch with the waterworks? “Accurate, yeah, but not this time! If I didn’t tell the truth some of the time, it’d make the lies too obvious! And that’s no fun at all.”

“... Ah,” says Kiyo, uncertain of how to take a compliment.

“So?”

“Oh yes, right. Hmm. It can’t be that large of a diversion, surely…”

Such is how Korekiyo winds up over by the reading chairs, telling a dubiously-interested Kokichi about disk and turbulent fragmentations. “Where the instability and arbitrary motion cause a core to split off into multiple masses of gas and dust that collapse into independent protostars,” so the reading goes, “that are close enough to one another they become entangled in mutual orbit.”

Maki can hardly say she’s particularly invested, even if it would be nice to have a better idea of what Kaito’s blathering on about half the time now that classes are in full swing. Still, something in her can’t help but hang on to this itch of unease, as though at any moment something will go wrong. She’s supposed to be watching Kokichi, but finds herself looking more at Kiyo than the surroundings. There is no danger there, anymore, though you’d have been more likely to get hurt than Ouma. But this feeling you can’t… no. That you refuse to name, this resentment, it takes residence in your bones and won’t let go. Is it because he’s been programmed as having been a killer? Aren’t you the very same? And when it really mattered, didn’t both of you decide to k–

The slightest sound makes Maki jump into action, fists at the ready to block an incoming blow, only. Huh. It seems it was just the weight of the book closing.

Kokichi sits up a little straighter, speaking a little louder (before, begrudgingly, quieting down, because this is a library). “Thank you, Kiyo-chan~ That would’ve been soooo boring to get through alone, you know? Nishishi, I’ll still be expecting your application for DICE one of these days! Best not disappoint,” he leans back in the chair, only to swing up to standing.

Korekiyo simply rolls his eyes, but there’s something undoubtedly fond in the gesture. If there weren’t, the fact would make itself known near-immediately; instead, Kiyo simply picks up the book to put it back on the shelf. “Is that all you needed, then?”

Kokichi exaggerates a sigh. “Not by a longshot, but I think I left the rest in Miu’s lab,” he rolls his head back, momentarily looking at the spot where Maki has planted herself, arms crossed. “So I gotta run. Laters!”

As Kokichi is picking his cane back up (and staring at the foot for a moment, making sure he’s placed it on the correct side for now. Working on making the ruse more realistic, perhaps, Maki posits, though she dares not say such a thing aloud), Maki nods in acknowledgement of Kiyo.

After an awkward pause, Kiyo nods back. “Miss Harukawa.”

But the pair are off again, out of the library and en-route to Miu’s lab.

The silence between the two of them is thick. Neither is perturbed by the light traffic traveling in either direction down the hall, staying steps apart but not quite identifiable as a ‘group’. Much remains unsaid between the two. Neither dares disrupt the precarious balance maintaining a stoic facade, and the awkward silence stays.

At least, while only in the company of one another.

“Hey!” Kokichi yells, swinging open the door to Miu’s lab with reckless abandon, startling a very focused Chihiro and Kazuichi sitting at the far end of a long table. “Where’s that boisterous blonde–”

“That is the best most bodacious boisterous blonde bitch to you, ‘ya shitstain.” Miu looks up from her workbench, approaching the opposite side of the long table with a haughty laugh.

“Mm, nope. Too wordy. Might mistake you for a nerd,” he teases, pointing up and down at a Miu dressed in her lab coat and covered from goggles to toe in smears of motor oil.

“Oh please, haven’t you figured out yet that I’m beauty and a brain?”

“And a nerd, yeah, I got that.”

The pair bicker like old friends, though it’s only recently they’ve had a chance to talk over their time in the killing game. Perhaps it’s easier for them to act like it never happened; it’d be hypocritical of Maki to judge.

Although…

“So you’ll concede she’s beautiful?” Maki tugs on her hair, wrapping it around her finger with a smirk. One sentence sparks a good five minutes of playful arguing, nuh-uh yuh-uh, and mild shoulder-punching. In terms of the assignment, it’s permissible, but on thin ice.

The perimeter seems clear in here, anyway, only the five of them. Chihiro and Kazuichi seem too engrossed in whatever project they’re working on to bat an eye at the two’s banter, and there’s no good angle for an ambush. Besides, it’d be irresponsible to initiate a confrontation with so many metal scraps and machines around. Still, she has to remain on alert.

… Though she can’t help but listen when she hears Miu launch into a small tirade: “What I’m always working on, dumbass, and a couple things besides. Picture this: you’re me, and you’re ‘getting a regular checkup’ because you’re ‘recovering from a traumatic experience’ and all that junk. And I’m sitting there, wasting valuable workable time between classes, just for them to call me up to do, like, the same three tests they always do? And I think to myself, man, wouldn’t it be genius if you could just step into a booth, or a pod, or something like that when you get there, and it does all of that preliminary stuff on you at once so you can just be done with it already? And this was like, two? Days ago? So you know I have a prototype.”

Kokichi looks nonplussed, to say the least.

“Haven’t you been working on anything less… totally mundane, than that? Maybe like a shrink ray, or a portal device or a body-swapper, or something exciting?”

“Well, you know I’m building an android, but we all know how you feel about that.”

“I do not need the list of features you’re giving that thing. Nobody, needs the list of features you’re giving that thing.”

“W-W, h-hey! I’m not gonna be weird about it,” Miu pouts, voice getting soft for a moment. “That’s like, totally crossing a line…” only to pick back up. “Nah, I’m not gonna load in any kinky shit until I can ask him about it!”

“Is that finally an answer to the question I’ve been asking for like three months now? We’re going with ‘robots only have dicks upon request?’”

Maybe it’s better to stop listening, actually. Not that Maki is given the choice.

“Point is, I still need a test subject! Why not you, while you’re right here? Every experiment we’ve run so far has been demonstrably fine, quit your worry-warting already ‘ya buzzkill.” Miu scoffs, rolling out a wardrobe-sized booth on a dolly.

“But Iruma-channnn,” Kokichi whines. His eye twitches, scanning the new device up and down, only more resolute that “there’s no way I’m gonna go in there unless it’s got AC!”

“That can be arranged,” says Miu, writing at the bottom of a spare paper. “Now, get over here so we can get this show on the road!”

“Nnnnn can’t make me.”

“Come on.”

“Nah.”

“It’ll be fine!”

“For you, maybe.”

“You know what? Fine. Hey Maki!” Miu calls, waving to where Maki is stationed around the corner. “C’mon, this’ll only take, like, two minutes, you in?”

Great. You’ve been Acknowledged.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Maki starts to stammer, but Kokichi has suddenly lit up.

“Ooh! Do it, do it Maki!”

“I really don’t think I should distract from–”

Suddenly, both Miu and Kokichi are peering over the table, all but pounding their fists against the wood as they chant “Do it, do it!”

If anything, their exuberance makes her want to give in less, but the coast is clear, for now… Chihiro gives Maki a withering look. Doesn’t seem like they’ll run out of steam any time soon.

“... Fine.”

Kokichi and Miu turn to one another and high-five, cheering in unison.

“Great,” Miu breezes by, opening an entrance to the box. “Come on in.”

Maki is immediately enveloped in what at first looks like a photo booth but, upon examination, has too many blinking lights and moving parts to be one. In lieu of a screen, a plexiglass barrier shows off the dim reflections of the moving mechanics, leaving the subject to back up into position. A thermometer pops out of the front panel at the same time as a blood pressure cuff restrains her left arm, a bar descending to the top of her head to record her height. Every metric is recorded on a tiny screen on the outside of the chamber.

Experiment: success. The device certainly does its job. Whether it’s been done well is questionable, but it certainly has been done.

Meanwhile, Kokichi has been lounging in quite possibly the single Good Chair in the entirety of Hope’s Peak, talking to Miu about something indistinct. By the time Maki walks out of the machine a matter of minutes has passed.

It feels like it’s been hours.

And Maki is not happy.

“Ouma? I need to talk to you.”

“Can’t it wait? I sorta–”

“Now. Ouma.”

Kokichi keeps his head down, but follows Maki’s footsteps.

“We’re leaving. Goodbye, Miu. Hope you got your data.” Maki states, perfectly deadpan. She turns, practically dragging Ouma by the wrist.

“Harukawa, I’m sorry i–”

“That’s a lie,” Maki helpfully completes the thought, marching out into the hallway. “You’ve been lying all day, making up any excuse you can to be as distracting as possible just waiting for me to screw up. But it isn’t going to work. We are going, to your room, and you will stay there, and it will be quiet. Do you understand?”

Kokichi stops walking. He does not pull away from her hand any further than the natural distance that comes as he stops, glaring up at her with an oddly-canted eye.

“You think you can ground me, Child-Caregiver? All I want is to hang out with my friends, and get to do it at a decent goddamn hour, and that’s SO bad? Aww, am I inconveniencing you? What would you rather be out doing. Huh? Would you rather be hunting me down for sport–”

Maki snaps out of her shock, shaking her head. “UGH! Not everything is always about YOU, you know!” She storms a few steps ahead.

“Well excuse me if you aren’t exactly open about your hobbies,” Kokichi scoffs, jogging up a few more stumbling steps to meet her. “If you insist on making our little forced-bonding-time absolutely miserable, I guess, be my fucking guest.”

“It’s not about fun, it’s about salvaging the entirety of this semester! Out of all of us, you should understand that!”

“Oh, so there is an ‘us’! I thought it a mere myth on the breeze, oh please, Harukawa, regale me with tales of how our miserable myriad of troubled teens that calls itself a class constitutes any kind of Unit,” he coughs on the end, running out of breath. A bit of spit drips from the corner of his mouth, hastily wiped away by a hand before he makes a big swinging gesture with his cane.

This, it turns out, is a mistake.

First, his cane clatters to the floor. In and of itself, this isn’t surprising; at least it didn’t go through a window or otherwise launch across the hall, instead dropping down at Kokichi’s side.

Then Kokichi falls down with it.

He nearly faceplants, the only buffer coming in the form of outstretched arms in front of him that immediately buckle.

Maki stifles half of a laugh. That’s what your overly-theatrical-ass gets when you try to act larger than life itself. She holds out a hand to help him back up. Frustrated as she may be, she isn’t cruel.

… But he doesn’t take it.

In fact, Kokichi doesn’t seem to be moving much at all.

Thinking fast, she immediately turns him onto his side in a recovery position. Still breathing– heavily, at that, as it’s taking up the majority of his focus just to do that much. It’s a full minute before he starts trying to talk.

“Mmaki’alls sumiki,” is about all he can say, saliva rolling down his face, eyes glassy. One eye moves slower than the other as he tries to look up at her in that disturbingly blank way of his.

He says it again.

She doesn’t know what to do.

In for four, hold for four, out for four.

You can’t react this way to a little surprise. Cool heads prevail, Maki, you know this.

She feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Maki? Thank goodness I was following you. Listen, both of you, I’ve called my classmate Mikan. She is a nurse. What I need you to do, Maki, is help me pick him up. Ouma, just keep breathing…” Peko Pekoyama commands, picking up the cane to carry with her bag as she prepares to pick up Kokichi.

There’s an upset indignant note from him, an ‘uh, no shit,’ that pierces through the existential terror. That’s a good sign. That means not every scrap of consciousness needs to be dedicated just to staying alive. “I ‘ust, ‘eed’an ninit,” he tries to speak again, getting steadily more exasperated with himself. Even so, he does not cry.

No matter how he may want to, he does not cry.

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

Kokichi Ouma finds himself in a hospital room yet again. Maki Harukawa, however, finally finds herself at liberty to have him out of sight as she leans against the closed door.

Now you can panic.

“Maki?” Peko asks, tilting Maki’s chin up to meet her gaze.

Nevermind.

“You did the right thing, initially. Okay? You put him in a position where he could breathe, which is probably the most important thing you could have done.”

Maki stammers, tugging on her hair with an iron grip. “I did not do the right thing, initially. That’s the problem,” she admits, shaking her head. It’s difficult to stifle the ghost of tears blocking out her vision.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Peko asks, guiding Maki over to sit in a pair of chairs beside one of the many windows on this floor.

No matter how hard she tries to stop them, once they start the words won’t stop flowing. “I mean that it’s my fault he’s like this!”

“... Maki, I saw it, it was an accide–”

“In the game, I shot him. Twice. With laced bolts, he. He just took Kaito, and was planning, s-something, and we were all so scared and I thought he was going to kill him so I covered them in strike-nine, and I shot him. Twice! And I went for a third…”

Peko is taken aback for a moment. Class 79 tends not to talk about their experiences in the simulation, so to hear things like shot and kill only confirm every terrible rumor she’s heard about the entire debacle. She blinks, once, then twice.

“Maki, I. I had no idea.”

Maki pulls on her hair, looping it around her whole hand and it still isn’t enough. “I know, I know, I’m an assassin, Ms. Pekoyama, and he’s the only mark I’ve ever actually killed myself.”

Peko is loath to let the silence spread between the two of them, yet she isn’t sure of what to say. Still, she says anyway: “I am. So sorry, that happened between you two. I assure you, I did not have an understanding of this. History, before I suggested you be paired together.”

“A-and now, now it’s my fault he collapsed, because whatever is wrong with him started because I poisoned him, because I’m a heartless, murder machine a-and,,” Maki hiccups, a hand over her face. She hasn’t even gotten this far into the story with her therapist, yet she sees enough of herself in Peko to entrust her with this secret.

“... I know what it is like to live with regret.” Peko offers. “It is never easy to choose one life over another. I don’t think that it should be, either. You should never have had to make that choice, but you did, and you made it as well as anyone could. You wanted to defend your friends, Maki, and you did. You cannot agonize about how things might have been after the fact if you want to move forward.”

Maki just stares at her hands, and cannot scrub away the illusion they are bright, bold magenta.

“... Maki?”

But Maki is far down the hall, watching Kaito close the door to that damn hospital room, because he’s betrayed me, again.

“... I hated him.” She takes a deep breath, and lets the words swish around in her mouth for a moment before spitting them back out: “I hated him. I wanted him to suffer. He was irritating, and a threat, and I didn’t– I don’t understand him, and I wanted him to get away from me and everyone I care about.” Deep breath in. “So I shot him, with a crossbow, and I laced the bolts with the slowest-acting poison I could find, so he wouldn’t know peace the same way the rest of us hadn’t.”

“Ah,” says Peko, surprised but without any tone of judgment. After all, it is Peko’s turn to think, wouldn’t that be hypocritical? “Multiple things can be true at once, you know. Just because some part of you wanted vengeance does not overwrite your intentions to defend. I’ve only ever known you to want to protect the innocent, Maki, and even if you haven’t always been that person, that is the kind of person you are becoming. Every last one of you was in significant distress at that time, and that includes you. You shouldn’t let self-hatred cloud your perception.”

Maki nods ever-so-slightly.

“What you did was. Excessive, yes, and you should not have done it. But it is in the past now, Maki. The fact that you feel remorse for it proves you aren’t ‘heartless’. You made a poor decision, with a high price. All that can be done for it now is to atone in ways you can. Sometimes, remembrance is all you can offer. But you,” Peko points at the flower on Maki’s uniform, “have a unique gift in all of this. Ouma is still alive now. In this life, you can still make amends.”

Maki sniffs, then holds her breath. In for three, hold for five, hold for four, hold forever… the tears just won’t slow. “It was cruel. I, was cruel, I don’t. I don’t want to be that way, not even to him. I-I want to. Amends, I want to,”

Peko smiles. She takes both of Maki’s hands into her own. “Then you will. You’ve already started, after all.”

The more Maki thinks of it, this whole shadowing experience has shown off facets of Ouma’s personality she hadn’t seen before. He does not like bugs, but still tolerates them out of care for his friendship with Gonta. He could have been cruel and smashed all the leaves, but he picked out any that even may have had eggs on them. Kokichi could have been legitimately cruel, yet he wasn’t. Kiyo, quiet as he is these days, is willing to accept him because Kokichi has accepted him in return. Even Miu, after she tried to bash in his skull with a hammer, has come around to not just tolerating his presence, but coming to enjoy it. Enough to make a machine for the medical wing since he, her friend, is in and out of the hospital so often… so he’s claimed.

Maki can only reconcile now that at least some, possibly all of those claims of chronic pain and complications are very real. Part of her knew this all along, but didn’t want to believe it; it’s easier, after all, to lie to yourself. Hadn’t Kokichi said something to that effect, so long ago?

Despite how irritating he is, despite his best attempts to get under her skin, despite being Kokichi Ouma, he’s… admittedly, a decent friend when it counts. And, perhaps, someday they can be friends as well.

“I still. It. It’s so stupid,” she shakes her head. “I-I better not…”

“But you want to say it, right?” Peko nods.

“I still feel. Jealous? Kaito can do what he wants, of course, but ever since the simulation it’s felt like our trio with Shuichi is… different. Like he’s choosing Kokichi over us.” Over me, she does not say. Peko can see it in her watery eyes.

“That, I’ve certainly understood,” Peko laughs. “Sometimes the person you admire can be… short-sighted, maybe. But your admiration is your own, you know. You have to own it, and, if they don’t ultimately feel the same way…” She looks off into the distance. Imagining someone, no doubt.

“... Right. Right, thank you Ms. Pekoyama.”

“Just Peko is fine, Maki.”

“Thank you, Peko.”

“Of course.”

“... But maybe they do feel the same way. You. Never know until you ask, right?”

Peko snaps back to attention. “I… suppose.”

“It’s just a matter of gathering the inner strength to ask, whether you like the answer or not. … I think you should,” Maki shrugs, drying her tears. “And maybe I should too.”

“Perhaps,” says Peko, unshaken as ever, until… she smiles, conspiratorially. “I will if you will.”

“Alright,” laughs Maki. “Deal. But I have someone I have to address first.”

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

Meanwhile, Kaito slowly closes the door to the hospital room. The cool air hits him almost immediately upon entering; the air conditioning must be turned up significantly higher than in the rest of the building. It’s a different room, this time; the slightly different decor is disorienting for a moment, while he allows it to be. There’s something far more important than misplaced flowers and chairs and abstract paintings at its center, though.

“Kokichi?”

There’s a disgruntled sigh from the hospital bed, and an equally disgruntled Kokichi hooked up to not-even-a-fourth-of the equipment he was last time, to Kaito’s knowledge, he actually had to stay here.

“‘eah. Yeah, ‘s me.” He even sounds tired, still slurring words together a touch at this point.

Kaito takes his left hand, the dominant side. The uninjured one.

Kokichi can barely curl his fingers around Kaito’s, for now.

“Like the worst case’a TMJ you ever had,” he tries to smile, but finds the effort fruitless to try. Out of everyone, Kaito won’t mind if you don’t pretend for him. He already knows what you are. “‘Cept it’s everywhere. Mostly.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be talking so much–”

“Tsumiki-chan said, as long as I focus on breathing, I can do what I want. Mostly wanna not-do-things, though. Boring. What’d you do today?”

“You’re asking me?” Kaito laughs, but humors the thought. “Class, mostly. Went out to train with Shuichi, he’s actually coming along pretty well. Still has trouble keeping up with me in the real world, though, lung capacity and all. Been missing Maki, though. She’s really trying her hardest for this class, you know, she’s even talking to that Peko girl right now.”

Kokichi looks away, both eyes now in-sync as he tries to look to the tile floor. “Yeah. She’s still Harukawa, alright.”

Probably not a great time to talk about it, it dawns on Kaito just a little too late.

“What even happened, man, can I ask that? Figure I may as well instead’a dancing around it,” Kaito says, just to banish the thought. To get it out of the way.

Kokichi laughs a little under his breath. It hurts, but there’s a degree to which he can’t help it. “Ask’er yourself.”

Kaito is confused for all of a moment before looking around the–

“Ah! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you! I-I just thought I could answer any q-questions, so Ouma doesn’t have to-o…” Mikan Tsumiki, Ultimate Nervous Wreck, holds her clipboard to her chest.

Kaito is beside himself, unsure of how to get her to calm back down. Kokichi’s hand squeezes his a little tighter. Give her a moment.

“R-Right, sorry, you were wondering about his condition, right? Ouma’s, I mean. T-There’s good news! And. Bad news, which we’ve already talked about before you arrived, or. I did most of the talking because he’s having a hard time at the moment, but you knew that– Bad news we’ve already talked about, and good news.” Mikan looks up at Kaito expectantly, straining a smile.

“... Do you want me to pick one? Because I’m sure whatever the bad news is won’t look so bad compared to the good,” Kaito nods, resolute.

“Oh yeah, s-s. Sorry. Yeah. SO the good news is this is just a flare-up, probably caused by a mix of stress and the heat outside. He’s been doing a lot better in this building since we have a backup generator for our climate control,” she continues. “But the bad news is that if he doesn’t take care of his condition, he could end up in a full-blown crisis, mister,” a darkness casts over her eyes “and if you do you won’t be able to breathe on your own, then it’s back on a ventilator for up to weeks at a time, and I know how much you hate that.” She picks her head up. “But, hopefully it won’t come to that!”

… It’s a lot to take in at once.

“What. Exactly, is his condition? How could he deteriorate so suddenly?” Kaito asks despite Kokichi’s half-hearted protest.

“It wasn’t sudden. I’ve been feeling it all day… it just got too bad to deal with. That’s all.” Mikan looks over to Kokichi before he relents and nods. “Someone else should know.”

“It seems to be an autoimmune disorder caused by the program. Not one that we’ve seen before, but one that’s kind of unique because of how it happened. The device ‘taught’ his immune system to attack danger that wasn’t physically there, so it started attacking what was there instead. It seems to include some of the signals sent between muscle groups to get them to move, leading to muscle weakness that varies in severity. This would be a moderate exacerbation, I think, so it really could be much worse!”

Mikan is still working on her bedside manner. Kokichi huffs a little, amused, while Kaito is still processing.

“Is. Is it ever going to stop?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Mikan sighs, a little shake of her head. The same thing Kaito had been told about his lungs. “It’s impossible for us to know, but don’t count on it.”

“So… So what can we do? There has to be some kind of training we can do to make it a little less severe, right?” The impossible is always possible, is it not?

“Well. Physical therapy might help as part of the treatment, but it’s most important he’s taking his meds regularly and getting enough sleep,” she says. “But it’s pretty near impossible to enforce.”

Kaito looks over at Kokichi for a moment, then back to Mikan.

“Maybe, on his own. What if he had a roommate? Then we’d share responsibility.”

“You’re kidding me,” Ouma says, doing his best to sit up a little. It’s more effort than it’s worth, but that does not stop him from trying.

“It’s that, or have you check in even more regularly than you already do. Even if I have to fish you out of the dorms,” Mikan shakes her head, tsk-tsk-tsk. “It’s not a bad idea. I’ll take it up with Administration. Unless you’d rather have an aide following you around…?”

“NO. ‘m good. It’s good. Could be way worse…”

“And I’ll see if I can get you an air conditioner in your room? It is very literally medically necessary.”

“Yessss,” Ouma seems happy enough, and settles down. It’s distinctly possible he’s too tired to put up much more protest, and takes the opportunity to start to nod off.

Kaito smiles fondly, and shakes his head.

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

Several hours later, Kokichi wakes up to the creaking of his door. He tenses, finding that he can, even if it’d be too much to disengage himself from ensnaring wires and monitors. He doesn’t bother. A moment later, it’s clear enough who it is.

“... Hello, Ouma.”

“Harukawa.”

Kokichi stares upward, idly counting holes in the ceiling tile.

The silence is deafening.

“I’m sorry,” Maki starts, a meandering sentence unto itself that unravels slowly from her tongue.

Too slowly, for Kokichi. “Yeah, alright. For what?”

“Take your pick.” The courage she’s built up is thrown to the wind as she strives to just say it, or at least say something.

“Sure. Forgiven. Whatever. Now, what’s it you want?”

“... That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Ooh, she catches on! Maki Harukawa, how do you do it,” he laughs. It’s a strangled sound.

“Cut it out, Kokichi, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what happened today. I’m sorry about pushing you too far–”

“You didn’t push me too far.” he says, but it sounds… hollow. Sincere, insincere, it doesn’t seem to matter; there’s no substance to it, but it’s also packed with double-triple meanings and spite.

“I’m sorry anyway,” Maki says.

This appears to appease him, if just for a minute.

“I’m sorry about pushing you around, and for blaming you for my own inability to properly focus.” she sighs. “… In my defense, you don’t make it easy, but. That’s not the point. The point is, I should not have done that. I got angry, and when I get angry sometimes I act rashly. So I’m sorry.”

There’s something bigger to that statement, of course. Something he cannot help but respond to with a brutal truth:

“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I want to stop being scared of you, but it’s not. Suddenly okay again.” He turns his head, half-muttering. “I’m not sure I’ll ever really be ‘okay’ again….”

The silence returns.

“... That’s. That’s okay. I mean, if you don’t. You don’t, have to. Respect is earned, and so… so is forgiveness, I think. I hope I can earn that in your eyes.”

“... Alright,” says Kokichi. “Fair enough.”

“See you around,” Maki shrugs, halfway to closing the door.

“And Maki?”

“Yeah?” she pauses.

“Thanks.”

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