Promised Prompt Post

Here be prompts! Leave a prompt in the comments! Fill a prompt! Leave as many as you like, fill as many as you like, even if someone’s already filled one.

You can prompt original, any fandom, or a specific fandom I know. Format examples are:

  • any, any, alone again
  • Bungou Stray Dogs, Kyouka+/Atsushi, falling asleep on each other
  • original, any/any, we were happy, right?

You can also throw in image, lyric, other format type prompts. Whatever works.

Post stays open until it slows down. If I don’t fill any right away, I’m working on an exchange fic due, but I’ll be in and out I promise.

You can also prompt poetry.

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411 thoughts on “Promised Prompt Post”

  1. any. any. “Could you forgive yourself if you’d been a part of something terrible but you didn’t know it?” ~Charlotte Gray
  2. any, any/any, There’s nothing to be gained, ’cause I can never change and you can never understand, my sickness.
    (I’ll never understand my sickness).
    Save yourself, from a life, full of lies and a heart full of pain and sorrow!
    Save yourself, from the choices, I make, ’cause nothing but failure follows me.
    Save yourself, save yourself!
    — Save Yourself, My Darkest Days

  3. any, any+/any, One step deep as you fall to me
    Heart clap, we skip a beat
    Count one, two, three
    And don’t you stop the music
    Get into it
    Won’t you dance with me?
    — Lose It, Oh Wonder

    1. Still testing this one. I don’t have much aside from a few vague ideas about location and also some unpleasant backstory again, but this was so cute I had to…

      You seem… oddly enamored of that thing.”

      She smiled, glad that she hadn’t tensed up this time when he came up behind her. The manager was worse with how quietly he moved, but the cook could be just as quiet. He’d scared her at first, but not anymore. She actually looked forward to working with him now, and not just because he made the most sinfully amazing food she’d ever eaten.

      Jukeboxes are nostalgic, I guess,” she said, leaning over it as she considered which song to play. “Back before things went bad, we used to go out to the local restaurant once a week. I would get one quarter from my parents and could play a song. I picked one that used to make them happy. Well, before the divorce and all that nightmare that came with it.”

      Nightmare?”

      She sighed. Her father’s affairs coming to light hadn’t just been hard on her mother. He’d hurt all of them, even her baby brother, with what he’d done. He broke trust with all of them, and he’d walked away, left not just her mom but all of them. They hadn’t been enough for him. He had a whole other family with them and hadn’t bothered to see them.

      And then her mother’s new boyfriend…

      She shook that off and gave him a bright smile. “You know what? I want to hear this song again.”

      She pushed the button, watching the little record pull up and get to the spindle. She liked these kinds of jukeboxes over the more modern ones that just pretend shuffled on a screen with a few lights. This was the real thing.

      She wrapped her arms around herself and swayed to the music, remembering better times of laughter and happiness instead. Her next door neighbor teaching her to dance—and being an absolute butt about it the whole time.

      She felt eyes on her and stopped. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I got carried away.”

      He frowned. “This song… was popular in your childhood?”

      She giggled. “No. I’m not that old. It’s just a fun song. Gets you in the mood to dance, you know?”

      No.”

      She was the one to frown now. “You really dislike it that much? Or… do you not dance at all?”

      I have had no occasion to dance.”

      No occasion?” She shook her head. “Dancing does not need an occasion. I can’t believe you never learned. Your mom never made you slow dance with her? You… never took a girl to a dance? Or just… went to a dance? No sisters… no cousins… no one ever danced with you before?”

      No.”

      Really?”

      He sighed. “My mother died when I was quiet young. I was adopted by a friend of the family, and he was not… I was an only child, to my knowledge, I have no cousins, and honestly—what woman would want to dance with me?”

      I would think there’d be plenty.”

      He snorted. “Now you are being delusional. I’m not well-liked by anyone, aside perhaps from our manager, who appreciates my skill as a cook, and while I do have someone who calls himself my friend, we have not met in person in years. That friend is a man.”

      Well, there’s no rule saying you couldn’t have danced with a man, though you do seem—”

      No. I would not. We do not need to discuss this further. We are supposed to be closing up for the night, not discussing ridiculous things.”

      She balled a fist and tried to stay calm. She already knew he had a habit of calling something ridiculous when he didn’t like it or understand it, and he clearly wasn’t comfortable with the idea of dancing or her fumbling way of asking him why he never learned. She went to the jukebox again and picked a much slower song.

      Turning towards him, she held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

      What? No. I just got done saying that we are supposed to close, and I am going to—”

      Dance with me,” she repeated, stepping close to him and taking his hand. She put one on her back and held onto the other as he stared at her in disbelief. “Just start shuffling your feet. It’s pretty simple. Easy, even. Rock a little, like this… slow and steady…”

      Why are you doing this? I am going to trip or step on you or—”

      You are doing just fine.” She smiled up at him, trying to reassure him. “Stop being so nervous. All I want is for you to enjoy the music. You can’t understand how dancing makes someone feel until you do it, so… just feel.”

      That… is extremely awkward when we are touching.”

      She felt herself flush. “It doesn’t have to be. I dance with my younger brother all the time. A neighbor taught me to dance. It’s fine.”

      This is not the song you picked before.”

      No. That’s faster, and you’re just starting out, so you need a slow song to get the feel of things. Faster songs are fun, too, though few things are as nice as a slow dance with someone you care about. You get to hold on and stay close to them.”

      That… is what you’re doing now?”

      She shook her head, wanting to giggle with hysteria. Oh, she couldn’t lie and say this didn’t feel good because it did. He might be a lot taller than her and hesitant, but he was warm and strong and surprisingly gentle. Still, this might seem more romantic than it should be. They were still strangers, after all.

      I am teaching a good friend to dance.” There. That worked, right?

      I… Is that a yes? You… are staying close to someone you care about?”

      He asked it with such a tone as nearly broke her heart, and his confusion seemed genuine. She’d overlooked it before, but he had only said that person called himself his friend, not that he actually considered that man one. Did he have anyone else in his life? Anyone at all who cared about him? This poor, awkward man was all alone? He was a sweetheart underneath it all, and he deserved so much better than that.

      Yes,” she said. “How about another dance?”

      He hesitated. “We should—”

      And then we close. Promise.”

      Very well.”

        1. Yes, poor guy. He hasn’t really known much kindness or understanding in his life, and he has no idea why she’d like him at all even if he did sort of put her under his protection to keep her safe from the other servers who bully her because she’s nice and cute and the customers who don’t want to accept that she’s not flirting back. He sees that as practical because she’s a diligent worker, and they actually can run the diner by themselves, but he doesn’t think she sees him as anything since so few did before.

          So, yes, he needs all the hugs. Poor guy.

    1. This kind of strayed away from the point it was trying to make at times, but… I tried.

      I think she’ll fit in nicely around here,” Oz said as he shut the door behind Marshall’s new helper. “Why are you all staring at me? I can’t be the only one who thinks so. She’s got to be crazy to want to work as a lawyer in the first place, and since Hart so helpfully pointed out that she’s known in his circle for vandalizing that pervert’s car, she’s perfect. Just what stodgy Marshall over there needs. Someone insane enough to put up with us and work as a lawyer.”

      There is nothing crazy in wanting to be a lawyer.”

      Caton shook his head as he removed his glasses. “I favor logic and rational thinking. I find little of it in the law you love so much.”

      Marshall frowned. “That’s not true. The law is rational. It is designed to—”

      Confuse the hell out of everyone?” Oz finished, grinning as he went to the bookshelf, pulling back the one that hid the liquor cabinet. Marshall still wasn’t sure which of the others had insisted on putting that in for him—Oz was the obvious choice, but he somehow managed to seem innocent any time he was questioned about it, even if he did insist that all lawyers needed a hidden drink cabinet.

      He poured a glass for Warner, who gave him a look at how full he’d filled it, same with the one he passed to Marshall. The one he gave Caton was only half-full, which earned him another glare.

      What? You have a headache, and alcohol will only make it worse.”

      You are the reason I have a headache,” Caton muttered, rising and going to pour himself a proper drink. “You need not get overly excited about the prospect of having another woman around. She clearly doesn’t think much of you.”

      Oz sat down with his drink, shaking his head. “Why do you all assume all I see in her is a woman? If she’s going to date anyone around here, my money’s on Marshall. Warner’s too scary, you’re already taken, and as charming as I’d like to believe she is, she’s a lawyer. No way. I already learned that lesson the hard way.”

      Marshall grimaced. “Yes, I suppose you did. That was—I wasn’t even sure I could keep you from jail on that one.”

      I didn’t do any of what she said I did. Quit acting like I’m a criminal. That woman didn’t want to take no for an answer and I nearly got prosecuted for it.” Oz downed his entire drink and went back for another. “It is not my fault, either. It was just dinner, damn it. That’s all it was supposed to be. How can one know if they’re compatible if they don’t spend any time together? So what if I knew by the end of the salad course she was not the one? That doesn’t make what I did a crime.”

      Your reputation does you no favors,” Caton said, “however exaggerated it may be.”

      Looking for love shouldn’t make me a monster, either. You all could use more of it in your lives.”

      Some of us have fulfillment in our choice of occupation and our family,” Marshall said. “We don’t need more than that.”

      Oz snorted into his drink. “Sure you don’t. All of you are so uptight another man would say you need to get laid. Badly.”

      While there is some truth to the idea that releasing certain endorphins during sex can be beneficial, it is not the only way to improve matters, nor is it as necessary as modern media would have the world believe. That is propaganda that keeps the commercial system working, as it is well documented that ‘sex sells.’” Caton studied his drink. “The over-stimulation of that ‘need’ is what causes many problems in this world, leading to violence and mental health issues as well as physical diseases and other crimes.”

      Sex as the root of all evil.” Oz leaned forward and into Caton’s face. “Are you certain this isn’t because you’re unwilling to admit you’re attracted to Careen? When one is frustrated—”

      Even if I were—and I am not—it is no concern of yours and you are only proving my point with this nonsense about ‘frustration.’ If one cannot control one’s behavior because of sex, he clearly lacks the emotional maturity to be having it.”

      Oz gaped at him. “Are you saying—”

      I believe we all agree you are not actually ready to be dating, no matter what your physical age might be,” Warner said. “In many ways, you remain a child.”

      Just because I’m not a grumpy bastard like you or Cat or as stodgy as Marshall does not make me a child. And don’t say it’s because I’m the youngest, either. I am perfectly capable of dating. I do just fine most of the time. There are a few outliers who didn’t take the end of our relationship well, but that doesn’t mean I can’t date.” Oz shook his head as he rose. “You always do this—gang up on me when you think you’re right and I can’t possibly have a say, but I am not wrong to want love or to think I can find it even if you three have given up on it already.”

      I am not ruling it out,” Marshall said. “I am simply content with the way things are now. I have a good job I like and my brothers of choice. What more do I actually need?”

      The actual adoption decree?”

      Marshall grimaced. “That’s not… It’s never been necessary. You all know that. Maybe my biological family was never willing to let me go, but that has never changed that the family I wanted—the one I chose—is right here. Well, I suppose our parents aren’t, they rarely are anymore with all the traveling they do, but the rest of you are all in this room.”

      Aw,” Oz said, and Marshall soon found himself in his youngest brother’s embrace. “Big brother is so sweet.”

      You are going to make him regret such sentiments,” Caton said as he went to the door. “Physical demonstration of such affection is entirely unnecessary.”

      I will find the research that proves otherwise, you know.” Oz sighed, though he didn’t follow Caton as he left the room. Warner did, without a word, though that surprised none of them since he was still watching over Caton as he always did.

      You can let go, you know.”

      Oz shook his head. “Nope. Never. Not letting go of a single one of you. That’s not what family does, and you chose us, remember?”

      Marshall had, and he didn’t regret it, nor would he. As difficult as it ever was between the four of them, he knew none of them—not even Caton—wanted to go back to the family they’d been born into. This one that they made was what they all needed, as strange as it was.

        1. Thanks. These four seemed like a good choice for this, and Marshall especially since he was the one who didn’t get formally adopted, though that kind of went off track from how it was going to go.

          They do enjoy teasing each other, though.

    1. I realize this is the original way this goes, and I know what it’s supposed to mean, but… I still find it highly disturbing and am so not touching it. Ever.
        1. Sorry. I think we talked about it before when we were making lists for those bingo cards… and it still bothers me. I know it’s irrational, but it does, so… yeah, not going to write for it.
            1. I feel bad when I can’t fill a prompt… and in this case, I know I’m being irrational, so it’s worse. that, and I really don’t feel good and I can’t seem to manage my usual escape from the dark thoughts and the day because I’m incapable of focusing to write and also hurting a lot thanks to my ears.
        2. Also, the weather appears to have shifted again, so I’m in pain and nauseous, so not coping well and extra grumpy because of the day it is and being sick. Sorry, again. I will go find some nice cute prompts now that I have eaten all my crackers to calm my stomach.
    1. I went with an outsider perspective on this. And that makes it a little less platonic. I was trying for a bit of a different way of writing the forced snuggling that always happens to the one of them.

      So, how is married life treating you two?”

      Her husband frowned. “You have already asked that of us three times this evening. If you are expecting either of us to disclose more details than we already have, you will be disappointed, though I sadly suspect that you are only drunk.”

      She giggled, since she’d been sure he was a long time ago, about the same time as he’d done a “mock” sob on her shoulder since she’d “stolen” his best friend by marrying him. That wasn’t true at all. She knew she would never be to her husband what his friend was, even if they were married now. Friends had different but still important places in a person’s heart, and that was never going to change. He would always be her husband’s best friend, and nothing—no one—would change that.

      I’m not drunk. You haven’t started the movie, so I’m bored.”

      I’m sorry. I just wanted to wash up the dishes before I sat down again. The food is wonderful, my husband’s such a good cook, but if it has a chance to dry on the plates, it’s a nightmare to get off the next day. So I always wash up right away. Normally he helps and it goes faster, but you two were talking, so I was on my own with all of them.”

      You should not apologize.” Her husband shook his head. “Though you should have said something. I would not have left you alone with them.”

      I know, but you two were having fun and besides, you cooked. This is fair. We agreed to share household chores.”

      That’s adorable,” his friend said. “Damned if you two aren’t relationship goals.”

      She smiled as she finished drying the last dish. “We try, at least. That’s the most important part. Sharing and talking and working things out—”

      Speaking of sharing, I claim the best pillow,” he said, grabbing hold of her husband, whose expression about made her double over. “Not sharing. Being the best friend has different rules, you know.”

      Stop laughing,” her husband told her. “This isn’t funny.”

      You’re adorable,” she said, because they were. Her husband continued to frown at her, but she went over and whispered in his ear. “He’s going to pass out during the first part of the movie, and I will make it up to you.”

      You shouldn’t have to clean up for his mistakes. Nevertheless… that does sound agreeable.”

      She smiled again, kissing his cheek before going around to join him on the other side of the couch. She thought his friend was already snoring, and maybe it would be better to let him sleep through the movie. She didn’t mind. Her husband was actually large enough that he could be shared as a pillow, even if she was only leaning against his arm.

      His friend was family, too, being her husband’s best friend, and she didn’t mind that at all.

      Though judging from the way her husband was fidgeting and trying to get out from under him, he just might.

        1. 🙂 These characters can be just so cute sometimes.  I like to think they’d create a giant extended family, with his friend eventually winning over her best friend and them having a bunch of kids that all see the other adults as aunts and uncles and it’s just big and warm and squishy full of family and romantic feels.
        2. any. any+/any. “You lose your way, just take my hand
          You’re lost at sea, then I’ll command your boat to me again
          Don’t look too far, right where you are, that’s where I am.”

          ~Lana Del Ray, “Mariners Apartment Complex”

  4. any, any,

    Even if the sky is falling
    Even if the waters rise
    Even if the world is ending
    I will make it out alive
    I will be the one to survive
    — The One to Survive, Hidden Citizens

    1. I’m still trying things out to find one that sticks, so…

      Who took the last tea bag?”

      The new waitress’ nearly horrified wail had everyone looking her way, and as soon as she realized they were staring at her, she flushed red. He supposed it couldn’t be helped. She had only just started, and it wasn’t like she had gotten any of the easy tables, not from the orders she’d passed along his way.

      He was also aware that the others were likely to have passed along some of the more difficult tables to her on purpose, a part of something like hazing but also because this girl had the misfortune of being “cute,” a fact that had instantly garnered her the ire of her fellow workers. In a business where an attractive appearance could mean more money each day, someone who was obviously inferior to her in that respect was bound to dislike her for that alone.

      He avoided most of these interpersonal conflicts by being the main line cook. He’d been asked to work up front once—and just that once. Supposedly he made children cry as much as he did waitresses, though he had little tolerance for the ones who did not do their jobs.

      You could at least tell me where the other boxes of tea are instead of staring at me like I’m insane. This is for a customer. He was very specific about how he wanted his tea. And he’s… kind of scary.”

      Look, you want cutesy tables and everyone to eat up your goody-goody act, you go get yourself a job at a kid’s restaurant. This is a real diner. We don’t do hand-holding, touchy feely crap. If you’re not a big enough girl to find your own tea bags, you can quit.”

      She swallowed, blinking in confusion. “I just…”

      If you are looking to create problems and think you have a pass because the manager is out today and you can blame them all on the new girl, I should remind you I’ve never liked you and have several sharp knives within easy reach of my current position,” he said, making the older waitress turn to gape at him. “Furthermore, since the tea is in his locked office, she’d have no way of getting it, now would she? The very fact that a customer requested tea makes it all the more likely it is that same manager testing the new waitress and he deliberately left the box of tea here empty to see what would happen.”

      So? She couldn’t handle a simple request. And since when do you care about what I do to the other servers?”

      I care that someone will complain that the food I cooked was improperly done because it has been waiting for your lazy, inept person to take it to them for far longer than it should have. You are standing there gloating over this child instead of doing your job, which reflects poorly on me. That I have always objected to, and if it does not cease soon, you will not have to fear the manager’s ire but mine.”

      She snorted, grabbing the plates and walking out of the kitchen with no more haste than before. He grimaced.

      Is it really a test?” The new waitress asked, her worry plain on her face as she leaned over the counter to get a good look at him. “I thought I met the manager yesterday when he hired me.”

      You met the owner, who very likely did not look past your face in hiring you.”

      I…” She winced. “I really don’t need that to be the reason why I was hired. Not again. I just need to work, not be harassed. I don’t… I realize I look younger than I am. It’s genetic. We all do. My brother who is twelve looks eight. That doesn’t mean I deserve this. I’m nineteen, I may not be in college, but that doesn’t make me a failure, and I can’t properly do my job if people are hiding tea boxes and being jerks like that.”

      I don’t care about any of that,” he told her. She started to protest, but he shook his head. “I have the key you need to get into the office.”

      I… You’re giving that to me?”

      With the implicit understanding that you will give it back when you are done.”

      I don’t understand.”

      He didn’t explain, either. She had only passed one part of the test, after all. Most of them were either too stubborn or too stupid to ask for help, and those that weren’t often folded long before knowing that he, of all the people working, had the key. A few more got past that point but weren’t willing to ask him for it or made some kind of mess in the office. If she failed that last part of the test, the manager would see to it she did not work again.

      As it was, he could only pass along the key to her and see if she truly was as good at her job as she wanted to be.

        1. Yes, I have a weakness for them, too. I currently have a weakness for the tall, intimidating version who allows people to think he’s scarier than he is because he doesn’t like to deal with them and while still very socially awkward, uses their assumptions against them to have peace and be left alone like he thinks he prefers.
    1. “This calls for a hot drink,” Yoshikawa said suddenly, as if that was all a gaggle of little girls in the living room called for.

      Accelerator looked like he was torn between throwing them all out into the street and immediately hiding away in the safety of his room. Of course, he was prevented from doing either by the barnacle on his leg that went by the name of Last Order who was loudly insisting he attend her birthday party. (She didn’t even have a proper birthday, but that didn’t stop the Sisters from using multiple theories of the time of a clone’s birth to acquire multiple birthdays to celebrate.)

      Yomikawa shushed her friend admonishingly. “Not around the children.”

      “Not a strong drink, a hot one.” Yoshikawa went into the kitchen and made hot chocolate, which she proceeded to drink as if it indeed were a strong drink. In the background was the soothing sound of Accelerator barely hanging onto his cool as he grumped and growled his way through futilely attempting to fend off that herd of giggling, playful children.

      “He brought this on himself,” Yomikawa said with a smile. Accelerator had insisted on enrolling the cheerful, friendly Last Order in school, where it was only natural she gather more friends to invite over, and only Yomikawa actually had the right to kick them out. She pulled the birthday cake out of the rice cooker.

      Yoshikawa gave her an admonishing look. “You made the cake.”

      Yomikawa beamed. “I told you a rice cooker will make anything.”

      A loud growl from the living room and a triumphant crow from Last Order—”I win! I win!”—and the two women exchanged looks.

      “Accelerator!” Yomikawa called, by way of rescuing him. “Come, help me ice the birthday cake.”

      Somehow, the top ranked esper in all of Academy City, rumored to sit as the Board Chairman despite his youth, and the grumpiest, least cooperative teenager she’d ever had to teach, materialized in the kitchen almost instantly and became the most helpful version of himself she’d ever seen. Which is to say, helpful at all, without a word of complaint.

      “We should have her friends over more often,” Yoshikawa murmured to herself.

        1. Oh, it totally should be funny. This overpowered, tsundere teenage, former living weapon that can still be one whenever he feels like (which is whenever his precious Last Order is threatened) that basically shrugs off any danger or attack as at most a very temporary defeat is totally conquered by a bunch of little girls. I think that should be funny. 😀

          1. Well, that part is funny. It’s the being bullied into submission that’s a little tricky, since bullying is usually bad, but a big grumpy person made mush by a small one is just… adorable?

             

    1. “Cold feet?” Yomikawa asked, that gentle affection lingering in her tone where no gentle affection belonged.

      She had asked Accelerator for help carrying her purchases when she went out for Christmas shopping, but she’d had another thing in mind, and Accelerator didn’t acknowledge whether he’d picked up on it. He was here now, standing in front of a Gekota merchandise display, either deciding which item Last Order would love best or whether he wanted to show his feelings enough to give something at all.

      “Screw it,” he finally muttered and snatched up a set of bedding and then a matching set of pajamas.

      Yomikawa blinked. Not quite what she’d been expecting, but then, Last Order did already have an even larger version of the stuffed toy.

      Accelerator just huffed at her as he started toward the register without her. “Let’s go already.” As if she was the reason they’d lingered.

      Yomikawa chuckled to herself. They’d soften him up yet.

      1. “You got this Misaka a children’s blanket?” Misaka Worst demanded with wide eyes. She’d justifiably assumed he wouldn’t get her anything at all.

        Accelerator just huffed. “You are a child.”

        The youngest of all the clones, for all her body appeared the oldest.

        Misaka Worst just stared at him, then the bedding. The very much designed for children bedding.

        “I love it! Misaka Misaka crows at the top of her lungs and hugs the one who got this for her,” Last Order announced at high volume, then launched at Accelerator to strangle him around the neck in an overly tight embrace. “I’m going to put it on, Misaka Misaka says, hurrying off to get changed.” Last Order zoomed into her bedroom at high speed and slammed the door shut, pajamas under her arm.

        Misaka Worst smirked. She always enjoyed watching Accelerator discomfited. “This Misaka is not hugging you,” she said.

        “Tch.” Accelerator shuddered. “Good.”

        1. Lol. I like that she’s so offended over a children’s blanket, though Last Order is adorable and steals the show. Him not wanting a hug is funny, too.
          1. I love Last Order so much.

            I suspect Misaka Worst would love the gift, while never, ever letting on. It goes on her bed because it’s a functional blanket of course, not because she likes it.

    1. “Aren’t you ever going to apologize?” Misaka Worst asked while Accelerator opened a can of coffee and drank it.

      They’d picked up the groceries, then paused to feel out whether the neighborhood was still ordinary and peaceful or had loitering old or new enemies lurking about. Because living normally hadn’t cured either of them of that yet.

      Accelerator didn’t ask what Worst was talking about. There were a million minor annoyances Worst or Last Order or one of the other Sisters could get huffy about at any given time, but there was only one thing he’d never apologized for and absolutely should have.

      Except he wasn’t asking for forgiveness. That was far too much to ask.

      “Apologies are a sign of weakness,” he commented dryly.

      Worst laughed outright, scoffing, in that way she had that none of the other clones did, seeing as she’d been designed to hold all the worst of their feelings and thoughts. “You apologized to me that first time, remember?”

      For nearly killing her when she’d tried to kill Last Order.

      But then, that was forgivable.

      “You apologized to me just the other day, even, looking sheepish and all softy.” Worst waggled her fingers at him, clearly teasing. Even so. The question didn’t actually go away.

      “You know what I did to you,” he finally said. “All of you.” He looked into her curious expression and thought that even after everything else, this wasn’t something that could be redeemed. “Just keep holding it against me.”

      Her eyes widened in surprise.

      He turned and started walking back toward Yomikawa’s. Eventually, Worst followed him.

      1. This is very interesting. I like the idea of him not asking for forgiveness for things he can’t be forgiven for. It makes sense, in a way… even if it’s those unforgivable things that should be asked for all the same.
        1. True, not that I think he would ever, ever ask for it. It’s just not how he is. He really owns everything he does, good and bad, and that’s one of his good traits I think.

    1. “‘I lost my mittens,’ Misaka Misaka says, looking up plaintively.” Last Order’s big pitiful puppy dog eyes were quite plaintive indeed.

      Accelerator sighed deeply in exasperation, but stopped in the path. “Where did you last have them?”

      She looked very thoughtful, then swung her arm back toward the underground mall they’d come from. “‘The store,’ Misaka Misaka answers, somewhat dubious on whether or not that is correct.”

      Accelerator looked up at the sky, as if patience would somehow fall down as a shooting star and strike him. A small hand tucked itself into his, and he looked back down into Last Order’s eyes.

      “Come on then.” He wasn’t going to ignore her plaintive request for help again or leave her for even a minute to find them himself. They went back together to look.

    1. Last Order absolutely loved her coat that Accelerator had gotten her when they went to Russia. She loved the fluffy brown fur and the plush comfort and the fact that it was Accelerator that had gotten it for her.

      She wasn’t wearing that coat when she went bounding out into the light snow. She was wearing Accelerator’s.

      “Come back here, brat!” a decidedly irate, low voice shouted out of the apartment.

      “Hee! Misaka Misaka races away. Come catch me!” The little girl’s peals of laughter rang out behind her.

      Accelerator glared out the door at the falling snow. It’s not like he could wear her coat to go out in it. He flipped the switch on his choker to esper mode and controlled the vectors around his legs to shoot after her at jet speed.

      “‘No fair! No fair!’ cries Misaka Misaka, still racing away.”

      A sharp squeal and he had her around the waist. He switched off his choker. “Seriously, you brat.” He took back his coat and put hers around her shoulders, tugging her arms gently through the sleeves.

      She’d rather wear his coat, Last Order thought, but she beamed at him anyway, happy to have him fussing over bundling her up.

  5. any. any. “Catch a wave and take in the sweetness
    Think about it, the darkness, the deepness
    All the things that make me who I am.”

    ~ Lana Del Rey, “Mariners Apartment Complex”

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