#ahaha if only you could realize how ironic your words are

[fish-popsicle]

"Trying to map this place out is a nightmare!"

Artfright 2024 :]

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Wordsville's Official Release -- Is It Really an Odd Squad Clone? (Part 2)

Because Tumblr! Photo limits! Why, uh...whose dumb idea was it to put a photo limit in here? Man, that'll take a while to get used to.

Let's go on with Part 2 of my Wordsville analysis.

(Make sure you read through Part 1 first!)

If this were any other show with a reasonable episode length, I'd be fine with this. Covering all this? Essential to a mystery.

In 8 minutes, though? No. They fill out half of the columns in a rush in the first half, and then leave three open for the second half of the runtime. Read my digital lips: N. O. Not if you want your series to be good.

This is a good time to remind people they are putting out 33 episodes of this shit. That is an entire-ass season of messy pacing, rushed plotlines, and characters that I wouldn't know a single thing about if I hadn't unearthed the series' synopsis and character descriptions.

They have.

Their own.

FUCKING.

CURRENCY?!?!?!

Y'know, even Jackalope Dollars make some sense. Canadian money makes some sense. This? This is repainted Monopoly money and you can get the fuck out of my house with that because it's card-only entry.

I do so remember when WordGirl had a bit of a popularity renaissance on Twitter last year or so.

This show...is like the complete and utter opposite of that.

Ahaha...geddit? 'Cause...'cause she's an athlete, and...she's eating a brownie...which is unhealthy...

ARE YOU LAUGHING, SON? ARE YA LAUGHIN'? DO YOU FIND THIS FUNNY OH MY GOD PLEEEEEEEEASE LAUGH.

makes edible food that is meant to net customers said edible food is not for sale

By all accounts, people, these donuts are meant to be edible. So in what fuck-all world of logic would you use edible food as an advertising gimmick for a bakery? That shit will go bad within a week, and then what? You waste supplies remaking them.

Bro, get some cardboard copies. Fuck, in this high-tech universe you could probably 3D-print inedible donuts that spell "scrumptious" and put them on display!

AND THAT.

IS WHY.

YOU MAKE.

THEM.

INEDIB-

"Official Word Mystery business", "official Odd Squad business", it's all the same and you're not being slick.

You could tell me this was Otto's little brother and I honestly wouldn't even argue with you on that. I'd give you $10 and concede.

Man, and I thought Odd Squad's "Why Did the Chicken Cross the Dimension" featured abuse way too heavily for my liking, and here's this kid feeding donuts to a cat which are made out of ingredients cats really shouldn't eat, let alone digest.

Graham didn't make these treats cat-friendly. They were made for humans. And he's giving them to a cat.

As someone who worked at an animal shelter, of course you realize this means war, Gene Vet Wilder.

I'm not gonna lie to all of you.

I was legitimately going to fawn over the cat...until my eyes drifted down, and I thought the cat was wearing a feline airbag.

It's dude's arm.

...No more BIG BONG tonight.

Naming your cat "Yummy" means you have already committed at least ten cat crimes.

It's also ironic, because cats can and will eat your dead corpse.

Give dude 30 years, it'll catch up with him.

No. No. You know what sounds cute? Nyammy.

You know what doesn't sound cute? Yummy.

You know what name isn't crazy ironic? Nyammy.

Problem solved.

I think I can safely say "Crime at Shapely Manor" handled the traditional mystery a lot better than...uh...whatever this was going for.

Not animated + L + ratio'd + tour an animation school and call me back.

See, the reason why this hurts is because this just proves the entire series could be animated, in full and properly, and there would be no issue.

What we got is Sinking Ship's brand of creation applied in one of the worst ways possible, and I'm still as disappointed as when I walked in here.

At the very least, I'll give them points for not having Glory and Wilder and Graham voice themselves. Given how they weren't there when Gabby and Sly were solving the case, it would be too weird.

And this is why you don't make edible food as an advertising gimmick to get people to buy your shit aaaaaaaaand I have a headache again.

But- I- br- HOW DID BRO GET A BOX FOR THE DONUTS. H O W . NOT GONNA EXPLAIN THAT SHIT ARE YOU YA SORRY FU-

It's pretty much standard business knowledge that the advertisement-making comes first, before you serve the customer.

But this guy made his advertising while on the job. You...uh...well, you can do that, but in this particular case, that's what we call "a dumbass move".

FWIW, returning bought food to the bakery you bought it from is also a dumbass move.

I don't care if these haven't been touched. Eat them, and then help Graham make new ones. Inedible ones.

Cool!

TOSS THEM THE FUCK OUT.

Seren puts on a tight smile. "No," she utters. "No. When Odd Squad does it, it's funny. Not here."

Seren then spends 34 years eyeballing the Hollywood music industry aggressively.

In 7 minutes, with rushed pacing, and I have no idea what the hell your personality is even supposed to be.

Sly's, yeah, a little. Yours? I- no. Mm-mm.

...Okay, I don't know what the hell her personality is supposed to be besides loving gingerbread.

Seriously, this is one of the few times the sample script is actually better than what we got.

Oh fucking hell. No wonder I didn't like this episode -- it was written by the same person who created it.

And it's been a while since I've had to whip this out, but I'm going to take the criticism I had about Season 3 writers not watching Odd Squad before getting hired and apply it to here. If Christin had actually watched Odd Squad prior to writing and creating this show, I guaran-goddamn-tee we would have gotten something leagues better. And I know they've written for other SSE shows, but this is focusing on Odd Squad and Wordsville specifically.

Credits rundown to avoid hitting the photo limit:

Mia SwamiNathan plays Gabby. She also voices Zadie in Work It Out Wombats (haha Canadian actor pool, dive in suckers!), and while Zadie is my favorite character, that will not give this show any sort of a saving grace. The actress, yes. The show, hell no.

Matthew Bishop is the animation Executive Producer. He also worked on Odd Squad. Which makes the stuff in this show seem a lot more insulting.

Ah, yes. What I want all my songs for my show to be made by. A company called Daysun. (Hey, FWIW, I've seen worse.)

Wait, wait! It can get worse! Smiley Guy Studios did the animation! And y'know, I could make a "they hired people from Walmart to animate this shit?" joke, but instead I'll say how Sinking Ship has a whole-ass animation division and they couldn't animate the show themselves. If they did, it would have been a lot better than what we got.

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

So I might as well address the elephant in the room to kick off the conclusion: is Wordsville an Odd Squad ripoff, really and truly?

The answer...no. Not exactly. If anything, it's more like an inferior copy, if the word "copy" were hanging fast and loose like a shoe on an electric wire.

I'm going to use "Crime at Shapely Manor" as a direct comparison. In that episode, we get a sort of traditional mystery similar to what Wordsville gives us. We have suspects lined out, we have what they did, we have clues, we have a summation, all that jazz. The difference, though, is that "Crime at Shapely Manor" not only had 14 more minutes to flex their skills in the mystery genre beyond what spin Odd Squad in and of itself as a show puts on it (typical of police procedurals, it does have mystery elements), but they did it incredibly well. Even with the suspect being a downright fucking cliche, they still managed to do it while leaving the audience entertained and opening our minds to the personalities of "I can emote like a Discord chat server" Olive and "I do not understand financial concepts when it comes to very valuable furniture pieces" Otto. It can breathe. It does mystery well. Wordsville...doesn't. Eight minutes is not sufficient for the mystery genre. And if you want to prove me wrong by showing me a piece of media from a mystery show made for kids that is 8 minutes long, go right ahead. Enlighten me. Prove me wrong. But there my opinion stands.

I really could bore you all with the differences I managed to unearth between Wordsville and Odd Squad. I really could. Even more than that, I could bore you all with all the negative shit I found in what has to be the craziest combined 40 minutes I ever wasted of my life. But I'll boil it down to key elements only.

So first of all...the characters. The side ones are confined to a single career just based on their names, and as far as I can tell, the only trait they were all given was "serious about their jobs". (Gene Vet Wilder also does...magic, I guess? I mean whatever floats the boat...) Gabby and Sly, on the other hand...I genuinely can't pinpoint them. Best I can gather is that Gabby is the serious one and Sly is the silly one. So basically, an Olive/Otto dynamic where their little siblings take the spotlight. That's about it. Their friendship, let alone their personalities, are barely touched on in favor of shoving the mystery in your face. For an example: one episode revolves around their "Friendaversary", and them disagreeing on what they're going to do to celebrate it. Now, we already got this as an Odd Squad conflict in a similar way, and it was amazing. I loved "Happy Halfiversary"! Otis busted his ass for Olympia, and she did the same for him. We got some worldbuilding, some good old character interactions, and some funny jokes to boot. For "Uncompromising Community", what we get is a shitty plot that only serves as gift wrap for the mystery of the episode, which revolves around Firefighter Ember giving a fire safety course that Reporter Read plans to make a new story out of, while Baker Graham has a prior engagement with her. And if you're thinking "that sounds fun", then watch the episode and get back to me. That's good for an 11-minute plot. Not for 8 minutes with a full minute dedicated to both opening and closing credits.

Second on the list is the lack of worldbuilding. Lore. Basically anything of substance. Wordsville is, at its core, episodic. So's Odd Squad, to an extent. For Wordsville, if I hadn't read the synopsis of the series prior to watching it, I wouldn't know what the fuck was going on or what it was even about. I wouldn't know that the main cast are supposed to be only children, or that Wordsville is apparently a town...somewhere...on a map...somewhere. Does the Wordsville Online Detective Agency only have Gabby and Sly? Why is it online-only? Is there air? You don't know! I don't know either, and that's the thing that gets to me. I wasn't expecting anything heavy and lore-filled a la Odd Squad, but I wasn't expecting anything simplistic and bland, either. I've seen slice-of-life kids cartoons, and a lot of them are more enjoyable and have a lot more stuff to work with while also expanding on the world and telling me more about it. Wordsville...ain't it. It gives a big "fuck you" and trucks along.

Third of all, the educational aspect of it. Old-timers who have been watching the show for a long time know that one of the things that makes Odd Squad appealing is how it hides math into the plot in a way where it isn't super obvious and all up in your George Foreman grill. It's there, sure, and it does hinder the plot at times, but for me, I don't mind it. I'm still engaged. I want to know what happens. For Wordsville, the education is, indeed, all up in my George Foreman grill. It is fucking everywhere. Not hidden, just completely out in the open. WordGirl is probably the best show I can draw a comparison to, even though it's in a different demo -- while WordGirl does have word lessons, they are slipped into the plot much like Odd Squad and aren't shoved in there with an attitude I dare to even call obligatory. Wordsville is the entire opposite, and they absolutely do not, cannot, and will not miss a chance to educate you on words any chance it gets. Do not let the 4-7 age bracket fool you; this is a preschool show on something far more fucked up than "I'm having an 18-hour seizure with the cockroaches on a public bathroom floor" meth. And don't let Odd Squad's 4-8 age bracket fool you; that's a kids show people have watched while high on weed and had hella crazy trips. (And acid, in one case, which got far crazier.)

And finally, the animation, which I mentioned before but I'm bringing up more to summarize. Like I said, Odd Squad has good animation. Not 2D, though; it's CGI. It's not stellar, but it's solid. The creature designs in particular get real crazy. In Wordsville, the "animation" is drag-and-drop stuff that's half-done and has characters' heads and expressions on them for the lawl unique 'n quirky. I'm not shitting you when I said I was thinking of South Park when I was watching the animated bits. Hell, you could tell me the animated bits were a South Park parody and I'd believe you! But it's not. It's not a parody at all. And before you go at my throat saying "that is a literal child", I'd like to remind you that I know people under 18 who draw and animate a lot better. (I'm looking at a good chunk of you reading this and giving you a thumbs-up. Keep up the great work!) It's just like I said before: they had the potential to do something better, and they completely threw it away. Animation is hard. It's expensive. Sinking Ship is not a rich company. But they've done better in terms of 2D animation. They could have done better here.

What my opinion of the show overall boils down to is that I would have been happy with just the show synopsis and the sample script. I would have been happy with the one Seren's Study. Now, not only have I been proven fantastically wrong, but I've been proven fantastically wrong in the worst way I could have ever possibly imagined, because it somehow got worse than what I was expecting.

Now, I'm going to put a disclaimer out that this is my opinion. If you wanna go and watch Wordsville and decide for yourself how it is, go for it! Be my guest! No one's stopping you, and if you happen to like it then I will respect your opinion. But as it stands across these first 5 episodes, it's not my cup of tea. I think I'm better off giving WordGirl a rewatch.

Thanks for reading. See you all in the next Seren's Study!

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Shin Ecstasy [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts in the guest room of the Vibora Castle

Shin: ...Is not telling him anything truly the right thing to do? 

Perhaps I am the only one who believes it would be sacrilegious to do so right now.

Yui: ...

Shin: But I can’t bring myself...to deliver him such terrible news, knowing that he might not have much time left. 

Haah...

Yui: ( I can’t find an answer... )

ー Somebody enters the room

Shin: ーー ! Who’s there!?

*Thud*

Vibora A: ...The signing ceremony will commence shortly. Please get ready.

Shin: You Vibora sure have some nerve...You still want proof that us Founders will serve under you at a time like this!? 

Vibora A: Exactly. 

Shin: You little...!!

ー Yui stops him

*Thud* 

Yui: Shin-kun...! Stop!

Shin: Why are you stopping me!? Who does he think us Founders aーー

Yui: It was Carla-san who wanted to make it official. 

This was Carla-san’s final wish...Let’s grant it for him. 

Shin: ...

...Fine. I will sign in his place. That should do, right? 

Vibora A: ーー Then please come with me at lease. 

Shin: ...

ー Shin leaves with the Vibora

*TIMESKIP*

Carla: ...

*Rustle rustle*

Carla: I was convinced I would never open my eyes again...

Kino: Hey there, Carla. Seems like you had a nice, long dream. It’s been a while. 

Carla: ...

Kino: No need to glare at me like that, is there?

Carla: Why are you here...?

Kino: I had no idea you were ill~

How ironic for an immortal being to fall victim to a terminal illness. 

Carla: If you are only here to spout nonsense, then get out.

Kino: Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. I’ll leave at once. 

...But the Founder King is quite generous, isn’t he? 

I can’t believe you’d hand over your position to someone who isn’t even a Founder. I guess your options are really limited. 

Carla: ...What do you mean?

Kino: What do you mean...? Exactly as I said it?

Carla: I hope you realize that you will not get away with talking badly about my younger brother. 

Kino: Ahaha! How scary. Could it be, he hasn’t told you? 

Shin isn’t a Founder. He’s the child of a Wolf Prince.

Carla: There is no way...

Kino: Hm...? Nothing about that story which rings a bell?

Carla: ...

ー A flashback ensues

Krone: ...

Carla: ...? Mother, what is the matter? Why are you holding a knife...?

Krone: ...Carla!

Carla: It is dangerous to wield those things. 

Especially since you are currently pregnant. 

Krone: ...You’re right. I was lost in thought for a bit. 

I’m sorry for making you worried, Carla...

 ー The flashback ends

Carla: ...Now it makes sense.

Kino: See you later. Make sure to talk it out with your brother.

Just kidding, I guess you might ‘fight it out’ instead, huh? (1)

Ahaha!

ー Kino leaves the room

Carla: ...

*TIMESKIP*

ー Kino enters his room

Kino: ...Hey, Yuuri.

Yuuri: Yes? 

Kino: Do you think I’m a jerk? 

Yuuri: Why do you ask?

Kino: Because I’m hoping that Carla will lose control and wipe out both the Vibora and the Founders at once. 

Yuuri: ...Will it truly be that easy? 

Kino: Of course. I can’t imagine that guy would want a guy who isn’t even a Founder to succeed the throne. 

Yuuri: ... 

Kino: Fufu. Things are starting to get interesting again.

ー The scene shifts to the saloon

Yui: ( Soon he will sign the contract...huh? Once that happens, the Founders will submit to the Vibora. )

( Shin-kun has been staring at the contract this whole time...Completely unmoving. )

( I doubt he actually wants to sign it... )

ー Somebody approaches them

Vibora A: ...!! Who’s there!? 

Vibora B: We are currently preparing for the official signing of the contract. Please leave. 

Vibora A: Wait...Eh...? You are...

Carla: ーー Do not touch me with your filthy hands.

Shin: ...!? Nii-san!?

ー Shin runs up to him

Shin: Are you feeling alright now? Are you sure you can be up and walking about?

Yui: Carla-san...! You woke up!

Carla: ...

Yui: ( Huh...? He’s acting kind of off...? )

Shin: Nii-san? What’s the matter? 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) In Japanese, Kino makes a word play on the words ‘hanashi-ai’ or ‘talking to each other’ and ‘kuroshi-ai’ which means ‘killing each other’. 

[starlightsearches]

Betrayed

AHAHA, I'm supposed to be sleeping so I can catch an early flight tomorrow, but instead I've stayed up an hour later to write this since I was feeling so inspired. Kind of a sequel to these headcanons that I wrote forever ago. This little story has been sitting inside me for a while. Let me know what you think 💖

Armitage Hux x Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst/NO COMFORT, not edited 😬

His skin is too hot.

It’s been so long since anyone else has touched you, and Armitage runs cold. His hands have always felt like the brush of cool waters, or the patter of rain. The way it feels to wake up and know that winter has arrived bright and beautiful outside your door before you’ve even opened your eyes.

Poe’s touch used to remind you of late-night bonfires and laughing until your sides hurt, but you’ve forgotten since the last time you saw him, and now his skin burns on your bare arms. You shrink away from it like a branding iron. The guilt hits you immediately.

He pulls you against him, into the cover of the bushes on the other side of the garden, hiding both of you from the sight and sound of the party guests who mingle in the warm outdoor candlelight just beyond the wall of branches. His jaw is taut as wire, spattered with stray, graying stubble, and there’s a shadow under his eyes. He’s disappointed. You can tell with just one look, feel the anger he’s trying to mask behind his concerned gaze. You deserve all of it.

Neither of you speaks. You’re still trying to catch your breath, recovering from the shock of the phantom hand in the brush stealing you away from the party, and it seems like he’s trying to figure out how to speak without shouting.

“What are you doing here? It’s not safe—” the first thing you can think to say, and as close to the truth as you’re willing to venture, “Poe, you have to go. Someone will see you.”

“I’m here for you.” There’s accusation in his tone, and you know he’s right to feel that way. It stings.

You gnaw on your lip, thinking of the right words to say—trying your best to avoid any outright lies. “I can’t go. Not yet. There’s still information I can gather, information that can turn the tide of the war—”

“There’s no information we need badly enough to risk your life,” he whispers, but it moves through you like thunder. “We’re all worried about you— I’m worried about you. The holonet, the rumors we hear—” he pauses, incredulous, taking in the sight of you, “. . . what happened to you?”

You shrink, but there's no way to hide dressed as you are. It's a beautiful ball gown, in his favorite color. He said the light blue complemented you perfectly.

There are tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, searing into you. It’s a fear you haven’t been able to voice, not even to yourself. It’s not an act anymore, not an assignment. It’s much too real. You’re not sure who you are anymore. You’re not sure where you left the other you behind.

Subconsciously, you move to cover your left hand with your right, only realizing what you’ve done when your hand brushes the sharp edges of the stone there, eyes going wide.

Poe notices—of course he does—snatching your hand from where it rests at your side. The ring glints mockingly, the dark blue stone in the center catching the light through the breaks in the bushes. Only a few hours ago, you had shed blissful tears as Armitage slid the cool metal down the length of your finger, and now the sight of it makes you nauseous, the feeling traveling so deep it worms its way into your bones and makes your stomach roil.

Your voice shakes, and you fight to steady it, to keep the tears silent. “He asked me earlier today. We were supposed to announce our engagement later this evening, but . . .” but what? Is that what you still wanted? It’s certainly something you still hope for, but how could you go back after this? How could you choose him over something you had always believed in?

You could scream. Armitage would come running to you—you’re sure of it—pulling you tight against his chest, holding you with solid, devout arms. You could let his heartbeat surround you, like it has on so many sleepless nights. You could forget any of this ever happened.

It would never be loud enough to block out the sounds of Poe’s cries. The noise his body would make as he was dragged across the gravel out of the way of the party, fighting with every step. The unmistakable echo of blaster fire would still reach you, no matter how far away they took him.

“Go home, Poe.” You steel yourself, ripping your arm from his grasp. “Before someone gets hurt.”

He looks like he wants to kill you. You wish he would—the aftermath of this choice will be disastrous, but you can’t go back now that it’s been said. You turn back the way you came. He grabs you again, and it takes effort this time not to scream.

“Don’t you turn your back on me—” he’s raised his voice now, his hold harsh on your arm.

He opens his mouth, but you’ll never hear his next words. You know the cadence of Armitage's steps by heart—know without looking that he is there behind you, blaster raised and aimed with inhuman precision. You know he never misses.

“Step away from her.”

He hardly speaks above a whisper, but Poe obeys immediately, his hand breaking its contact with you; he raises both arms slowly behind his head. Hot tears melt into your skin, but they don’t phase him at all. There’s hatred in his eyes.

“Come here.” You know he’s speaking to you this time—his voice is never softer than when it's aimed in your direction.

He can’t take his eyes off the rebel pilot, but he scans you as best he can in his peripherals; as far as he can tell, there’s nothing wrong. Not on the outside. But you’re crying in earnest, afraid for your life, and he’d give anything to go back in time—to stop this before it started.

“Come here,” Armitage holds his hand out to you, ushering you into the safety he’s determined to provide. The safety he’s promised you.

Your steps are slow and deliberate. It feels like lifetimes before you reach him, and he guides you behind him with his free arm, stepping between you and the pilot, blocking the man from your view. He doesn’t want you to see this.

It’s these moments that haunt him, these moments he pours over: he feels your whispered breath against the back of his neck, hears those words echo into the early morning. I’m sorry. Had you been speaking to him? He could replay the moment for lifetimes and never know the truth.

The rest of it blurs in his memory, and he lets it. He doesn’t need to recall the ache of your arm around his neck, the way his lungs fought for air, the sound of the blaster, knowing without seeing that the shot had gone wide.

“Poe, run!” your scream is deafening, right up against his ear. You’ve pinned him to the ground—how many times had he held you just like this?—but nothing could overpower his instincts for self-preservation. Your blood coats his knuckles, pouring from your nose; he struggles for the blaster. You still manage to reach it first.

Is that what he'd wanted? Could he have ended your life? Or would it have killed the part of him that lives inside of you, too?

He wonders if you would have pulled the trigger. He’ll never know that either.

You’re apprehended too quickly, and he resents that even streaked with dirt, with blood, with tears in your eyes, he still finds you beautiful. He resents every memory that flashes before his eyes—the way he had felt when he first saw you across a hall made of mirrors, and he knew he had to have you.

The engagement ring on your finger winks at him as you’re dragged off into the night.

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[chibiwritesstuff]

Could you do a headcanon for how the dorm leaders and their S/O would react if their kid(s) from the future magically appeared on campus?

I might have gone overboard with this... but at the same time, I feel like I rushed this. I’m so occupied by work that I have to slowly work on this from midnight to six am before heading to bed then go to work around 10 am for two weeks now... I hope it turned out the way you like it. Yes, the ones with unique magic is inspired with FGO’s Noble Phantasms... I’m still stuck in that hellhole of a gacha game. I think you can tell who my faves are by the length I’ve written for them XD

Now, let’s enter this twisted wonderland~

“Queen’s Rose Maze!” All five of the Heartslabyul main guys heard. “Traverse in the twisting maze of the Queen of Roses!”

All of them rushed towards the location of the voice only to see a tiny Riddle with (h/c) hair instead.

“What did I do?!” Heartslabyul A-kun whimpered as he seemed to be stuck in a rose maze.

“As stated by the Queen of Hearts’ Rule #186: Never eat hamburg steak on Tuesdays. You just broke a rule and you must be punished.” The kid scolded. “To think this is what my esteemed father deals with everyday…”

“By father, I assume that would be me?”

Surprisingly, Riddle seems to take this information in stride. The kid will turn around and his suspicions were confirmed.

The kid will run and hug him asking if he’s doing a good job. He introduces himself and everything Riddle asked, (s/n) answered perfectly.

Well, until you showed up that is.

“Mother!” He’ll call out in joy as he bounced towards you.

And there goes Riddle’s composure.

Oh great seven, you two have children?! Is his first thought followed by, We will get married, have children, and be together forever!

While initial surprise caught you off guard, you slowly accepted the fact that you and Riddle are now interacting with your future child.

When he can finally go back to his time his final words made both of you blush.

“Farewell, mother and father!” He’ll wave happily as he disappears. “I have to watch over the twins you two just have after all!”

Wanna try betting who’s redder? (It’s Riddle)

Someone – more like two – that is not him or you is on his bed.

Who dares occupy my bed?!

The little girl stirred from her sleep and upon making eye contact with you two she’ll screech in joy.

“(s/n)! Wake up! Mom and Dad are here!”

Both of you flinched both from the high pitch voice and the statement she just made.

The young boy will wake up as well and greets you two in a much calmer way.

They’ll tell you that someone’s unique magic transported a bunch of kids to the past and now they’re here.

Slowly but surely, you both can tell that (d/n) is a daddy’s girl and (s/n) is a mommy’s boy.

You all decided to take a siesta together, with the children in between.

When you both stirred in your sleep, the kids are gone. There’s a note stuck on Leona’s chest saying that they have to return to their time and they enjoy the siesta as always.

“Can’t wait to have you two soon.” Leona will mutter as he pulled you to him before going back to sleep.

A girl is crying in the lounge and it's disturbing the customers causing a bunch of complaints, forcing the twins to abandon current tasks to find the girl.

As soon as the girl spotted the twins, she grabs on them. “Uncle Jade, where’s daddy?”

Oh, Jade and Floyd are gonna have a field day with this. They kept questioning the poor girl about everything about her time to the point of scaring her.

“Aw, what a cute girl.” You’ll end up cooing.

“Mommy!” Tears are forming in her eyes as she hugs your legs tightly. “Mommy, I’m scared.”

“(y/n), I wasn’t aware you have a child…” You hear Azul trail off at the news.

He’s crestfallen on the fact that you have a child already. He will start doubting himself, thinking, of course, your relationship wouldn’t last, he’s not good enough, that he didn’t realize the kid is running towards him.

“Daddy! Uncle Jade and Uncle Floyd are scaring me again!”

“D-Daddy?!” He’s so taken aback he fell on his bum.

Jade and Floyd are laughing at his reaction while you just stared back and forth towards the child and Azul.

Ironically this is the time one of Azul’s customers decided to eat and run. Just as he asked the twins to deal with it the kid waved her magical pen.

“Everlasting Summer Spree!” And the guy is now over buying almost everything in the lounge. “Splurge in the joys of summer and shop to the fullest!”

Azul is so proud and started babying her with the very money she earned from one customer alone.

When it's time for her to leave he’s crying… which made her cry as well.

Looks like I’m going to be stuck with crybabies… is the only thing you thought of as you smile.

“Papa!” Echoed in the middle of the party that Kalim assembled.

When a young boy tackled him, Jamil was ready to grab the said kid until he noticed their features, and boy did he paled up upon the sudden realization.

“Oya, do I remind you of your papa?” Kalim smiled and hugged the kid. “That’s flattering, kiddo!”

“Uh, Kalim you might want to take a real good look on that kid,” Jamil said as he readied to call you on his phone.

When you arrived at the Scarabia dorm, you see Kalim pampering a young boy that has your eyes and complexion. A table full of food, toys, and jewelry scattered around to make the kid happy.

“Mama!” The boy called out to you while your brain is trying to process everything.

“Isn't (s/n) so cute! He’s really smart too!” Your lover kept on praising the kid as he played with Jamil, who looks like he wants to disappear.

Your mom mode instincts kicked in and scolded the two for overdoing things.

They kept saying sorry as Jamil finally got out of the predicament.

When the kid can finally return to their original timeline, he’ll give one last hug to the entire Scarabia dorm’s students before leaving.

“I’m so excited!” Kalim will tell you with a blinding smile. “Arent you excited as well?”

Vil was looking for Rook when he saw the said man playing with a little blonde girl. The archer noticed his presence so he beckoned the girl to come with him.

“Roi de Poison looks like your beauty runs in the family.”

The little girl did a curtsy as she greeted him. “Greetings, father. I’m (d/n), your daughter from the future.”

He’s amused, seeing as the girl acts gracefully by greeting alone. After doing his usual 5-second head to toe judgment, he nods and beckons her to follow to Pomefiore for a spa day.

No surprise but as they walk the premises of the campus, lots of stares and gossip started spreading.

Before either Vil or Rook can do anything, she once again spoke. “Father, may I ask for permission to use my unique magic?”

This piqued his interest, “Very well, show me what you got.”

“Smile of the Princess~” With an elegant smile flashed to everyone, “Hark, for the fairest’s daughter has graced you her smile~”

You just happened to walk by when you saw the commotion. Color yourself surprised when you saw a girl with Vil’s beauty and grace but with your eyes and preference of hairstyle cast her magic.

You might not have magic but you are quite good at noticing the quirks of everyone’s unique magic. A smile crept on your lips as you realized what her magic really does and who she might be.

They all got enamored with her and waited for her command. “Do get lost and focus on your duties, you pitiful potatoes.”

“As you wish, princess.” Everybody affected by her magic responded and went on their merry way.

“Oh my, so your magic is similar to Monsieur Multi.” Rook happily commented after the display.

“That’s incorrect.” (y/n) responded, already figuring out the true nature of her magic. “Smile of the Princess merely makes her target pay their fullest attention to her. It's her charisma that made them follow her orders.”

“So you noticed as well,” Vil confirmed which you happily nodded.

“Greetings, mother.” She curtsied and introduced herself once more. “We’re currently heading to father’s dormitory to treat our skin. Would you like to join us?”

Ah, so your hunch was right…

“She is going whether she likes it or not,” Vil answered for you as he smirked at your flushed face. “We do need a family bonding after all, don’t we, my dear sweet potato?”

“Yeah… what he said.” You sweatdropped as you unwillingly got dragged to their spa day. “Are we seriously ignoring the fact that she just said we’re her parents?”

“Are you opposed to having children with me?” He raised an eyebrow before facing your kid. “How many siblings do you have?”

“My older brother remains in my timeline with his acting job, father.”

You all end up doing the said spa day and enjoyed getting to know your daughter. You can't help but sigh in relief when she told you that she choose following Vil’s lifestyle of her own will rather than being forced to.

When she has to leave, rather than curtsying, she went and hug both of you instead.

“I know father’s at work and barely spend time with you but please don’t leave him…” She looks away with a sad smile. “He doesn’t mean to make you lonely.”

Against Vil’s protests, you grabbed his hand and raised it with a huge smile. “I promise I won’t let him go until he tells me to.”

Cue to Vil blushing, Rook laughing, and (d/n) smiling as she waves goodbye.

“You better keep that promise, you stupid sweet potato…” Vil mutters under his breath with a small smile.

The one rare time he leaves his room is when he visits you or he’s out to get his pre-orders. Today’s reason is visiting you.

He hears giggling from his brother and what sounds to be another child. He’s so curious if Ortho made a new friend that he didn’t even process the fact that there’s another person in your dorm.

“Big brother! Your son is here!” Ortho happily announced as he pointed at the giggling boy on your lap.

“AAAHHHH!!!!” Idia.exe has crashed. Please restart your system to continue.

“Ahaha, dad is still so jumpy as always.” (s/n) stood up and walked towards him. “Hi, dad! I’m (s/n), your son from the future.”

He’s the main suspect from all these time-traveling shenanigans. Creating a time machine wanting to meet you two which led to all the children wanting to go as well.

He explains the mechanics of the time machine along with its timer-based setting to return them to their timeline with no fail.

Idia is now just so invested in how this creation works that he sat down on the couch with his holographic computer typing notes and giving his ideas to the kid.

You’re just happy that Idia is finally interacting with someone else even if it's his son.

Truth be told when he randomly showed up in your dorm, (s/n) geeked out so much on how he unlocked the secret episode on his life story. He immediately bombarding you with questions about your current relationship with Idia.

It was overwhelming… thank god for Ortho’s random visits that you managed to calm the kid down.

In the end you four played video games – constantly yelling hacks when someone else wins – and had a great time.

When the timer started beeping, he gave you three a hug. “I love you guys! Please don’t forget the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow, Dad.”

“I believe that something you should say to future us…” You sweatdropped as Idia held back a nervous laugh.

“I-I’ll try.”

Le gasp from all three of you.

When (s/n) disappeared, Ortho starts chattering on how he can’t wait to be an uncle. Leaving so he can make lots of detailed plans for the future hangouts he’ll have with your son.

“(y/n),” He caught your attention as his face and hair slowly turns to fiery red. “I may be the biggest introvert in the world but I promise I’ll do anything that I can to make you happy.”

“Huh, I guess this is how Hades wooed Persephone to marry him…” You smirked as he covered his face to muffle his screaming. “Should we start planning for our wedding now?”

You two were having a peaceful picnic by the school grounds when a young boy appeared on top of the tree. He lost his balance though and leave it to Malleus’ fast reflexes to catch the boy with no sweat.

“Thank you, father.” The boy with a striking resemblance of your lover spoke as he regained his footing. “This isn’t how I planned to meet you two…”

“Father?” You two both asked.

“Okay, I’m aware that you are god knows how old but I wasn’t aware you have a child?” You can't help but look back and forth between the two boys.

“Neither do I.” He calmly answers, confusion evident on his face. “I haven’t bed anyone in my whole life.”

“My apologies! I’m (s/n) Draconia, your fifth son from the future.”

Cue to you doing a spit-take. “Fifth?!”

Malleus is just beaming in joy from this news, he does love a big family. Oh, he can't wait for the future to come, get married to you and have children… five children!

“There’s eight of us, actually…” He whispered but you both heard it anyways.

Spit-take part two with a bonus of your face being redder than any tomato in existence and Malleus just vibrating in happiness. “EIGHT?!”

He goes on and telling their names and current accomplishments, all to how the youngest sister is about to be born in a few months.

“So, I guess that actually makes it nine.” (s/n) corrects himself one last time.

You passed out while mumbling “Nine… nine kids…”

As much as Malleus wants to keep talking, he chose to care for you first, chuckling at how you passed out from said information.

He brings you and his kid to his room to make sure you have a better mattress to lay on. The two Draconia’s will keep talking about how the future of the family works.

Oh, imagine the horror on his face when tend to always be at doors death every delivery time. Now he knows that it's quite common for humans to die when giving birth.  He second-guesses the idea of having so many children if your life is at stake.

(s/n) have to remind him that they all live, so everything's fine.

After that reassurance, you stirred awake and saw the kid once more. He now wants to snuggle with you on the bed, which Malleus followed suit.

“Mother, please sing me that lullaby again.” He yawns as the older fae encases you two in a hug. “We all love your song…”

You can’t help but smile seeing how adorable your son is being that you hummed the first lullaby your mother has sung to you in your younger days.

You two noticed he’s fading, assuming that he is going back to his timeline once again.

You both placed a kiss on his forehead, saying “We love you, (s/n).”

Malleus chuckles and pulls you close as he peppers your head with kisses. He’s so excited for the future that he’ll share with you and you can't help but feel the same way.

“So… who’s going back to clean up the mess we left at the school grounds?”

[shoichee]

Hi, congrats on 100!! Could I please request 27 for Kasamatsu? Thank you very much, and good luck on your finals! :D

Kasamatsu x Reader

27. “If we get caught I’m blaming you”

Word Count: 4416

prompt list here

Note: the Replace novel starring the Kaijō team was a HUGE inspiration for this, and dear anon who requested this, I hope you’re still around;; I’m sorry it took so long EEEEE But yes! I did okay on my finals anon! I hope you’re doing well too~

@knb-kreations

»»—————　☼　—————««

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

“Look it’ll be quick… n-no one’s here as far as I know.”

“B-But…”

“J-Just… be quiet for a s-second, okay?”

“H-H-Huh?! Ah…”

Huh? Kise stopped himself before leaning closer to the edge of the building, slightly doubting his ears. Wasn’t that Senpai’s voice? With someone else…? Alone?

“Oh come on, why are you even block the wa—oh, ohhhhhh, are there any cute girls nearby?—”

“Shh,” Kise hissed, harshly waving his hand over Moriyama’s face to give a signal to stay quiet. “Listen…”

“A-Are you done, Kasamatsu-san…?”

“I-I-I… uh, just…um…”

Kise and Moriyama shared a look of shock… then registration… and finally a look of that spelled nothing but trouble. Immediately, they both simultaneously crouched to squat and share their “realizations” together in hushed whispers.

“Quick—when was the last time Senpai talked to anyone outside of basketball?”

“Hmmmmmm, certainly none of the girls I’ve tried to approach.”

“No, that’s obviously not what I meant!” Kise said, facepalming. “Anyone in your year that he’s been talking to? Maybe anyone in class?” Moriyama continued to hum in deep concentration before he lifted his index finger in a “eureka” moment.

“He’s been talking to (y/n)-san in the hallways recently!” he quietly exclaims, pounding his fist against his open palm to emphasize. “Though their conversations have sounded nothing remotely romantic. No charm, I say.” He struck a pose after to imply that he himself was the charismatic individual.

“.... Right,” he deadpanned, expecting nothing less from his quite… eccentric upperclassman. “Welp, now that we narrowed it down who he might be talking to, I don’t wanna spy on them… but I’m really curious if it’s really this (y/n)-san you mentioned.”

“Well,” Moriyama pouted with a grumble. “One peek wouldn’t hurt.”

“I guess you’re right…”

Kise cautiously scans his surroundings and gauges the situation “clear” to slowly peer from behind the corner of the building, where both of them had been seeking shelter from for the past several minutes. Moriyama follows suit, poking his head out just underneath Kise to see.

Kasamatsu’s back mostly covered your figure, but the view of what was happening did not slip by either Kaijō players’ eyes. He had his arms partially around your head while you were pressed up against his chest. You were gripping onto his loose blazer on his sides to presumably stabilize yourself while Kasamatsu was… fiddling with something on top of your hair? Even so, there’s no denying that the both of you were currently very, very physically close.

“Look… d-does it really take that long to take out petals from hair strands?” you mumbled, looking up at Kasamatsu’s face while trying not to move your head to avoid disrupting his “handiwork.” “I can do this myself....”

“W-W-Well, you can’t risk yourself being unkempt when you go back to class.” Kasamatsu gave a poor attempt at trying to lecture you, judging from his stammers and the way he slightly turns his head to the side to avoid your curious scrutiny. “It’s more thorough this… way. It’s the w-week where these blossoms fall rampantly… you have to be careful where you’re walking under…” In turning his face slightly towards Kise’s and Moriyama’s direction, his exposed flushed face puts the cherry blossom trees around them to shame.

So that’s what he was doing. Kise narrowed his eyes in pity at his captain, and Moriyama expressed a similar expression at Kasamatsu’s struggles. The poor captain’s hands were shaking non-stop. Not only that, he’s been darting his eyes everywhere since you’ve been gazing up at him from below. No wonder he’s been standing there unable to quickly pluck off the petals.

“Should we leave our captain alone to let him lead his own destiny?”

“What are you even talking about, Moriyama-se—”

“W-Whoa!! What a(l)e you [guys doing] he(l)e? Why a(l)e you sneaking a(l)ound (r)ike that?”

Kise and Moriyama instantly whip their heads behind in a panic, seeing a curious Hayakawa jogging up to be with his teammates, and the both instantly pounce on the poor rebound player to slap desperate hands over his mouth.

“Sh-Shhhhhhhhh!”

“Mrmpgh—?!! Lef—What [is going] on?”

“Hayakawa-senpai, please—just be quiet for a sec!”

The ruckus causes Kasamatsu and you to break out of the oddly intimate moment to face towards the direction of the sudden noises. After looking at each other questionably, albeit briefly and with stiff eye contact, there was an unspoken consensus for you two to investigate behind the corner of the building. Imagine both of you guys’ surprise when you two see a tangle of limbs between the Kaijō starter players. Kobori somehow arrived prior, separating poor Hayakawa from his two assailants.

“What… What the hell are you guys doing?!”

“Kasamatsu-senpai!! Is it t(l)ue [that you] and (y/n)-san a(l)e da—mrmf—!”

“Ahaha… we didn’t expect to see you here, Senpai~” Kise smiles with a slight grimace, hand still firm on Hayakawa’s mouth.

“It must be fate, yes surely!” Moriyama confidently speaks, flipping his fringe. Both Kise and Moriyama drop Hayakawa and straighten themselves up. “How else would we encounter such a situation as unique as this?”

“Why are you all here?” Kasamatsu sputters indignantly, but everyone (except you) saw how horrendously red his face was. You peek out from behind his back curiously, noting how Kasamatsu did a 180 in his personality compared to whenever he spoke with you.

“Kasamatsu-san… are they your teammates? You seem very close with them.”

“That’s—”

“Now, now, Kasamatsu-san… we’re only here because we were concerned where you went is all,” Kobori reassures a flustered captain. Kise only stares at him incredulously, but it seems that Kasamatsu, as usual, buys into Kobori’s naivete.

“I see…”

“Wow… the fact that your entire group came to look for you is very sweet of them,” you chime. “They really care for you, Kasamatsu-san…” When you elbow him at his ribs playfully, he immediately straightened himself like a plank.

“N-Nn.”

“Well… it’s almost time for class, so I have to go, see you all!”

“W-Wait, your… uh, hair, um—”

“I can get out the rest of the petals in the restroom, but thank you for trying! I’ll see you later!”

“R-Right…” He puts up his hand in a shy wave as you dash away, but he immediately drops it once you are out of the vicinity to hound on his teammates. “Were you watching this entire time? And stop with the looks—that’s creepy as hell!”

“Sooooooo…”

“Senpai, could it be that you and…”

“Kasamatsu-senpai! I’m (l)ooting fo(l) you!”

“N-N-No!!” he denies, ready to hold an iron fist to stop their antics, but Kobori gently holds onto his raised arm.

“Alright, let’s calm down a bit,” Kobori reasons with a placid smile. “I’m sure we’re all a bit curious because you hardly talk to anyone outside of basketball, right?”

“Kobori…”

“Have you heard of the prerequisites of the key elements of the blooming spring, Kasamatsu?” Moriyama asks, immediately drawing confused looks towards the 3rd-year.

“Moriyama-senpai, we have no clue what you’re talking about,” Kise says, asking the question that’s occupying everyone's mind.

“The key elements…! In the season of new birth, to enrich the experience, they are ‘hanami,’ ‘plums,’ and ‘spring cleaning!’ Of course, the prerequisite to these would be…”

“Please stop—”

“... to have a cute date.”

“... This is ridiculous,” Kasamatsu says irritatedly. “I’m going to class.” He immediately speed-walks to the adjacent building, leaving a scheming group behind.

“You know, if it’s true that he does like (y/n)-san, shouldn’t we help him? It’s the least we can do for our captain,” Kobori suggested.

“That sounds too troublesome,” Kise frowns, averting his gaze to also start to walk away, but Hayakawa immediately latches to his arm to pull him back.

“Don’t be (r)ike that! We have to do this as a team effo(l)t!”

“How did it become like this?!”

“Well…” Moriyama audibly ponders, stroking his chin. “If we make this successful for Kasamatsu, perhaps this can be a template for our own love lives! A sign that we will meet our fated ones this spring!”

“Yes, yes! Mo(l)iyama-senpai is abso(r)ute(r)y (l)ight!”

Oh god, Kise mentally sighs. What has he gotten himself into?

———

“Why are you guys surrounding me like that? Did you not hear me say that we have to change quickly? We can’t have the lockers for long today, considering that the janitor will come to do their routine clean-ups.”

“According to my online research,” Moriyama states, “this mint-scented deodorant will guarantee mutual attraction from the person you like.”

“Wha—?”

“Ignoring what Moriyama-senpai said,” Kise elaborates, scratching his head. “Is it really true that you like (y/n)-san? Otherwise, they’ll keep getting the wrong idea, senpai.”

Kasamatsu gapes like a fish, pulling his shirt collar as he starts to sweat and flush.

“Kise! Be a bit tactfu(r)! You do not unde(l)stand how to app(l)oach this!”

“What’s there to understand, Hayakawa-senpai!? It’s better to be direct about this, or otherwise we’ll be doing this for nothing!”

“Kise may be right,” Moriyama muses. “To be honest gives a feeling of a fresh start in the spring. Kasamatsu, you should follow this example and leave all the baggage behind to obtain a new start.” Kasamatsu could only stand there glued to his spot as his teammates continued to corner him, blocking any possible route to the locker exit.

“I… I…” he gulps. “Th—... that’s… I… like…” His voice dwindles to the softest whisper, but it easily resonates throughout the locker room, where the team had fallen silent in straining to hear and hang onto his every syllable.

“So you do like (y/n)-san,” Moriyama exclaimed, the first one to break the silence. “I see, I didn’t think they were your type.”

“H-Hey…?! Can you not say it like that!?”

“You can’t distort the truth, though. Anyways, you should chat with (y/n)-san nicely.”

“I already do!!” Kasamatsu half-shouts, but he immediately bows his head down shyly. “Wh-What’s a… good topic, you think… to talk to (y/n)-san…?”

“Huh? Just normal topics,” Kise replies, not sure what Kasamatsu meant by the question.

“What’s… normal?”

“Just talk to them like you’ve always done, senpai.”

“Y-Yes, but… h-how can I talk to hint that I l-l-l-like… never mind this is hopeless—”

“Ask them to come watch ou(l) next match [and have] (y/n)-san chee(l) fo(l) you!!”

“N-No! Anyone would run away from that!”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when the locker doors opened with a bang, with a very weary janitor standing with his equipment on standby. With a flurry of apologies to the janitor, Kasamatsu recovers himself and ushers everyone out before bidding him a good evening. Walking out of campus several minutes later in silence, Kobori breaks the silence.

“Why don’t we help you, Kasamatsu? Maybe through different methods you will find the best way to ask for a date. Perhaps asking for a cup of tea would be sufficient…?”

“I’m not gonna involve myself with this! No way in hell!”

“Senpai, so you’re just gonna wait and let it fester—u-uwah?!” Moriyama immediately sprays the mint-scented deodorant down Kise’s back to silence him before turning back to Kasamatsu with a straight face.

“What if someone else steals (y/n)-san away for their own elements of spring? After all, it is the perfect atmosphere for them to communicate with the person you like with pickup techniques, with high chances of success.”

“N-No way (y/n)-san would just go along with a random stranger!”

“Who knows? Maybe they’re more suave and have that particular charisma that they’re secretly weak to.”

“Moriyama-senpai, you might be going too far…”

“Kasamatsu, he’s right though, if you hang around (y/n)-san more, not only would you learn more about them, but you’ll protect them from potential unwanted people.” Kobori’s calm voice rang louder above the clamors of the starter players, and everyone immediately looked to Kasamatsu for his response. Kise mentally sighs at how Kobori always manages to misinterpret Moriyama’s words.

“Fine—but only to make sure (y/n)-san will be safe! Don’t get any funny ideas!”

———

Praise. Make them laugh. Praise. Make them laugh. Say something interesting. Say something interesting. Praise. Use a normal topic.

Kasamatsu stands at his usual spot, waiting for you to leave class and meet up with him after school. Only this time, his hands grow clammy, his thick brows deeply furrowed as he wills himself to stop shaking. His teammates spying on him from behind the hallway corner certainly wasn’t helping him either.

“I told you, there’s no way I’m gonna involve myself with this!”

“Come on, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama sighed, shaking the mint-scented deodorant on hand. “We talked about this yesterday. You agreed to this, remember?”

“It was to make sure no one weird bothers (y/n)-san! Why do I have to go along with this?!”

“So you’re fine if I hold (y/n)-san’s hand in the name of destiny…”

“To hell with that!—argh—you!”

Moriyama immediately sprayed the can on the captain’s neck, watching his spine jolt and jump before he was met with an intense glare.

“You’re the captain, right? Come on, you have to show us how it’s done. We all want to see the ways to push the boundaries of romance. Who would lead us if you don’t?”

“What kinda—”

“I ag(l)ee with Mo(l)iyama-senpai! Take the (r)ead, Kasamatsu-senpai!”

“Wouldn’t Kise be someone better to learn from if you wanted to learn how to hit on people?!”

“Senpai, I’ve never done such a thing in my entire life.”

“Kasamatsu, I’m sure Moriyama is just telling you how much we all admire and look up to you. Naturally, we want to see how our captain fares in these situations. Besides, as a team, if something happens, we’ll be there to cover up for you.”

“Well… if you put it like that Kobori… all I have to do is talk to (y/n)-san… right?”

“That’s the spi(l)it!”

“... Kasamatsu-san? Helloooooo…?”

You wave a hand repeatedly over his face, and he immediately blinks and flinches back when you pull him back to the present. He’d been standing still for the past five minutes.

“I-I-I-I…”

“Are you okay? You’re all tensed up… if something’s bothering you, wanna talk about it?”

“W-W-Well… wh-what’s… up.” Normal topic, normal topic.

“Well, nothing much really,” you say, smoothing out your blazer. “I got out the petals but barely made it to class in the nick of time!” You laugh at your own recollection, and he immediately flames a radiant flush.

“N-nn.”

“Is it me… or is our captain…. really, really stiff right now…”

“Shhh.”

You perk up at the noise and slightly tilt to the left of Kasamatsu to discern the source of the hushed whispers… only to spy a conspicuous group of basketball players. You merely raise a brow at your discovery, but you return your attention back to Kasamatsu before he notices your change in gaze. The Kaijō teammates were too busy shushing each other to notice your attention on them.

“Ah, yes! Kasamatsu-san, you just had your trigonometry test right? Those identities and proofs are always so difficult to remember… how do you think you did?”

“G-Good.”

“Wow, that was too quick of a response! I didn’t know you were that confident about it—obviously not a bad thing if you studied for it.”

“N-nn.” Come on, say something interesting. Interesting topic. Something you like. “U-U-Uh… w-weather…?”

“The weather…?” You look outside the window in confusion before you make a face of realization. “Oh! Like how’s the weather?”

“N-nn.”

“Well, it has been a bit windy with all those branches and leaves flying around, but I think it accompanies the refreshing atmosphere of spring very nicely, don’t you think?” You turn back to face Kasamatsu, who’s been slowly bowing his head down gradually more and more the entire time to avoid scrutiny.

“N-nn.”

“You’ve been… really quiet since lunch. I’m serious, if something happened… is there anything I can do to help?”

“Kasamatsu, take advantage of the elements of spring! The elements of spr—”

“Moriyama-senpai, shut… up…!”

“Hey—what are you—?”

“Wait!! Kise! Don’t push, [or else] we a(l)e gonna fa(r)(r)—!”

“Shit—”

Right on cue, the gradual leaning weight from the three players on Hayakawa at the bottom gave way, and everyone tumbled out smack dab into plain sight. Kobori was the only one who managed to break his fall and stayed behind the corner, holding onto Kise in a failed attempt to stop him from exposing his presence. Kasamatsu breaks out of his shy stupor and turns around to see awkward smiles and chuckles.

“Y-Y-You guys—?!”

“Ahaha… sorry Senpai… the floor was a bit… slippery?”

As Kasamatsu forgets about you in dropkicking Kise, you note how the other upperclassmen had their own little quirks in interacting with the captain. Seeing how assertive and gutsy he was compared to talking with you makes you feel unbelievably warm. Little did anyone know, you held a hand to your face as you turned away to let out a chortle before you collected yourself again.

“Ah, I guess I’ll be going now! Your practice will start soon right? I’m sure your friends were only waiting for you… Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Kasamatsu-san!”

“W-Wait—” Kasamatsu drops Kise from his collar before he turns to you, but in making eye contact he immediately loses courage again. “I-I-I… s-see… you.”

“Of course!” You give a close-eyed smile before you leave.

“You missed the opportunity to set up the atmosphere,” Moriyama sighs, staring wistfully at the mint-scented deodorant. “Was the mint scent not enough?”

“It was going fine until you crashed in!”

“Now, now, there’s always a next time…”

As the upperclassmen continue to bicker and banter (mostly one-sided from Kasamatsu’s end), Kise, who was dropped on the floor by Kasamatsu moments prior, silently stares at the direction you left. Did you leave because you knew how embarrassed Kasamatsu was from that incident?

———

For the next few days, Kasamatsu has been quite clipped with you, reduced to mere “nn’s” and “no’s” during your conversations, and Kise doesn’t know whether you’re just as oblivious as Kobori or whether you’re ignoring it to spare his remaining shreds of dignity. He mentally sighs at how oddly persistent Moriyama is about this even though the captain refused all of his ridiculous “suggestions” every time.

“I believe Moriyama is trying to help out Kasamatsu as a close friend,” Kobori had said, when Kise grumbled about his tenacity. “He just wants the best for him.”

Even so, Kise still heaves a sigh when he sees Moriyama and Hayakawa with an agitated Kasamatsu, knowing that whatever is going on won’t be smooth-sailing. He had no choice but to join them when Kobori sneaked up on him to sling an arm around his shoulders and called over the trio.

“Huh… what’s up with Kasamatsu-senpai?”

“Ou(l) captain is af(l)aid [because someone] da(l)ed to app(l)oach (y/n)-san (l)ight now!”

“Huh? Is that really a problem?” Kise shoots a tired look at the rebound player, but Moriyama solemnly sends a gaze to where he assumed was where you were at right now.

“I knew my online research would come in handy…! Someone also has the knowledge of taking advantage of the perfect atmosphere! Look at the intimacy shared between the two…! The undeniable auras exhibited by them, and elements of spring they embody together!”

“What the hell! No way!” Even through the denials, Kasamatsu looks visibly distressed about the possible “new revelations” between you and what looks to be a close companion of yours.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Senpai on this one, Moriyama-senpai.”

“(R)ook! They finished ta(r)king and (y/n)-san waved them [off with] a smi(r)e!” Kasamatsu whips his head at the speed of light to see you sending them off with the smile Hayakawa spoke of as your friend exits the campus gate. At his dilemma, Moriyama gently nudges his arm to encourage him to go talk to you.

“... According to my online research, talking under sunny weather with a fresh scent is the formula to having the desirable spring experience.”

“Oh shut up, will ya?” Kasamatsu mumbles half-heartedly, but he slowly walks in your direction before he stops to turn back. “You better not interrupt.”

“We [will be all] the way back he(l)e to suppo(l)t you!”

With a final sigh to expel his nerves, he gives a nervous smile to his teammates before coolly walking until you turn to face him once you hear his footsteps. Almost immediately though, his calmness easily dissipates into thin air once again, and his teammates only look on in dismay and worry from afar.

“Er…” Come on, just be direct. Talk normal.

“Kasamatsu-san?”

“Y-You were… d-datin—I mean t-talking, with… someone…”

“Oh, you saw? Yeah, I asked them to meet up with me here actually.”

“Is… that so?”

“Mmhm, I asked for their notes to compare to mine because I feel like I can’t get a hand on the subject sometimes.” Kasamatsu finally finds his voice for the first time in a while when the conversation finally re-enters familiar platonic territory.

“Was it… trigonometry? I did, um, do well on it last time, so…” Normal topics. Normal topics.

“I know,” you laugh. “You told me that a few days ago, remember?”

“W-W-Well…” He coughs to clear his throat and find his voice. “Y-You could’ve… a-a-asked—er…” You patiently wait for him to try to finish his sentence, and out of the corner of your eye you accidentally made eye contact with Kise from the distance.

Kise didn’t expect for you to notice the group even from a sizable distance away. He stayed still for a few seconds to make sure the shared eye contact wasn’t a fluke. Seeing how Kasamatsu was standing there like a statue again, he puts a flat hand next to his lips to discreetly mouth out:

He’s jealous.

To his surprise, you caught onto his cues, giving a subtle yet playful smile of your own before you carefully mouth out:

I know.

The others don’t seem to notice the secret exchange, all too focused on the poor captain bowing his head down out of extreme shyness. Kise doesn’t even know why he’s doing this, but perhaps Kobori was right that it’s only right for the team to help out their hardworking captain.

“Ah, Kasamatsu-san?”

“N-Nn?” He lifts his head up abruptly at the call of his name, and he turns red from mortification at the realization that he stood there like a dunce for the past several minutes. He doesn’t even have time to react to you stepping closer to him with an outstretched hand, and he stands motionless as you slightly fiddle with his cropped hair before you pull out a vivid cherry blossom petal.

“Remember what you told me?” you muse. “That ‘you can’t risk yourself being unkempt?’ After all, you’re right… it is the week where these blossoms fall rampantly… Must I also remind you to be careful where you’re walking under?”

At this point, Kasamatsu is sputtering like a broken engine, his mind barely functioning enough for him to think about putting a hand over his face in a desperate attempt to cover his frenzy.

“I, um, I…”

“Ah… can I ask you something first instead, Kasamatsu-san?” you gently interrupt him, and he flits his gaze back to you before staring at the ground again, and you took that as silent confirmation. “A-Are… are you free to go cherry blossom watching this weekend…?”

He snaps his head up in shock, only to see you slightly pink after that slight stutter in your question. It was your turn to avoid looking at his face.

“N-nn, I’m-I’m free.”

“Ah, that’s great…!” You muster your own courage to hold his clammy hands at his sides. “Can I ask to confirm if this is a romantic date between us?”

“Y-Yes,” he says in a hurry and you only laugh at his shyness. But his piercing eyes focus on your figure before he frees his hands from your loose clasp and reaches out to you, albeit with a slight shake in his hand still, before he clumsily takes out a petal from your hair. “It was… stuck.”

“See?” you shyly tease. “I knew it shouldn’t take you long to take out petals from hair.”

He completely lost his cool in front of you again.

You didn’t really care though… not when he looked absolutely endearing with the onslaught of petals settling on top of his head and shoulders to complement his flushed face.

———

Bonus:

“So are you two dating now?” Kise asks you. You both coincidentally met up at a hallway intersection the next week.

“Well, I think that’s a bit too fast,” you inwardly laugh. “You know how he is more than anyone.” Kise gives a light chuckle of his own before he asks you the question that’s been on his mind for a while.

“Hey (y/n)-senpai, how did you know Kasamatsu-senpai liked you?”

“Eh?”

“It was pretty clear from that time last week that you knew how he felt.”

“Ah… well, remember when he was… trying… to tidy up my hair? When you all spied on us?” you say, continuing when Kise gives a slightly sheepish nod. “It felt… different from how we normally talked. I’m sure he felt it harder than I did. I’ve always been nervous talking to him, but… seeing him so flustered and shy like that made me connect the dots, and then, I became more at ease and knew to be patient, realizing that he does hold a degree of feelings for me. I just didn’t know when was the right time for us to take it a step further.”

“I see. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I must say, please send my thanks for the rest of the team. I think without you guys, this wouldn’t have happened as smoothly… or quickly.” At your words, Kise only sweatdrops as he remembers Moriyama’s antics, Hayakawa’s over-enthusiasm, and Kobori’s good-natured naivete.

“I’ll… send your regards to them.”

“... Why do you look so hesitant?”

———

End note: the cherry blossom falling season only occurs in the first to second week of April, which would conflict with the timeline of this scenario IRL. The Japanese new school year also coincides with this week, and as 3rd-years, Kasamatsu, Moriyama, Kobori, and the reader would be college freshmen instead. If I wrote it in terms of “last year” with the 3rd-years as 2nd-years, then Kise would still be in Teiko. So for convenience sake… ignore the “realism” in the setting for this :^)

[themandhoelorian]

Dincember - December 4: Hot Chocolate

summary: Mando has unique ways of showing his affection for his son, like getting him hyper on too many cups of hot chocolate, but it’s only after a long day of bringing the kid down from his sugar high that you realize Mando has similar ways of showing how much he cares for you.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: a caffeine addiction, sleep deprivation, the smallest sexual innuendo, Din being sweeter than hot chocolate, not super well edited ahaha

word count: 3.2k 

a/n: asdfghkldf this is so so late but this week has been long and exhausting (no this fic was definitely NOT me projecting), and I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to write :/. I’m not even really sure this makes sense, but that’s kind of how my brain works when it’s exhausted, so hopefully on some level that’s accurate ahaha 

***

You never understood the appeal of caf until you joined Mando’s crew. 

The first time someone offered you a cup, that one day you showed up to the tiny mechanic shop of your first job with bags under your eyes, complaining about how little sleep you’d gotten the night before, you thought you’d been handed a steaming cup of motor oil by accident instead. 

The dark liquid felt like lava on the roof of your mouth, leaving the taste of bitter ash on your tongue as you willed sip after sip down your throat. It did pull you out of the sleep-deprived fog, but it was more of a jolt in the opposite direction than a gentle tug, your body shooting into overdrive and hands shaking so intensely you burned your fingers on your soldering iron more times than you could count that day. 

After that, you tried to stay away from caf as much as possible. No matter how little you’d slept the night before, how often you were caught staring blankly at the wall instead of untangling a mess of wires, you always refused when you saw a mug of hellfire coming your way. The acrid taste, the jitters, none of it was worth enduring when you just had to make it to closing before you could go home and sleep away the fatigue. 

But now, your full time job is taking care of a child, and every night is a night with too little sleep. You spend your days trying to wrangle a warm, mischievous demon into compliance instead of just manipulating cold scraps of metal, and the kid doesn’t have “closing hours”- not with how violently he reacts to the notion of bedtime- so there’s never a sweet finish line to look forward to at the end of the day. 

You thought you’d known exhaustion before, felt it heavy on your shoulders those months you worked overtime to make ends meet, but that was light years away from what you feel now. The black hole of sleep consumes you as soon as you get the chance to lie down, and when you inevitably wake to the sound of cries a few hours later, it feels like the weight of the galaxy is crushing your lungs, making it nearly impossible to crawl back out of bed.

So after just a few weeks on the Crest, after that one day when you accidentally dozed off watching the kid play and woke to find him sticking a finger into the barrel of a blaster (thankfully Mando had the sense not to keep his weapons loaded on the ship or Maker, that could’ve ended badly), you bought a caf maker on the next planet and forced yourself to chug a cup every morning since.

The taste still sucks, no matter how much cream you’ve tried mixing in, but it doesn’t make you jittery like it used to, the caffeine just enough to keep you awake, and now you don’t know how you ever took care of the little womp rat without it, especially on the days when Mando returns from his hunts and the child bursts with energy to welcome his father home.

Even if it’s only been a couple days since Mando left, you’d think he’d been gone for months with the way they act at seeing each other again. The kid’s just downright ecstatic, dropping whatever part he’s playing with as soon as he hears the hiss of the hull opening and babbling excitedly as he runs into his father’s arms. He’ll follow Mando’s every move for at least an hour after he’s returned, and sometimes, you have to literally pry him from the beskar so Mando can retreat to the cockpit and set the course to the next planet.

And then there’s Mando. He’ll look stoic as ever as he takes the child into his arms, but you can feel how eager he is to reunite with his son, his affection all but spilling out the sides of his armored chest. He’ll never admit it, of course, you’re not sure he’d even be able to find the words to say it if he wanted to, but he finds other ways to show the kid how much he missed him, how deeply he cares about his little foundling.

More often than not, those methods include spoiling the child to no end, giving into the kid’s every desire and providing him with a few moments of pure, unrestrained joy. And more often than not, you’re left with the not-so-simple task of dealing with the consequences of giving the child his every wish, easing him down from the euphoric high and re-establishing that he absolutely cannot expect that kind of indulgence with anyone but his father.

Like one time, Mando stayed awake with him all night long, conceding five more minutes every time the kid whined when he was told it was time for bed. Five minutes quickly turned into hours as they watched the bright mosaic of hyperspace go by, the kid so happy to just sit in Mando’s lap while he spoke in the soothing tones of his people’s tongue. You were only able to pull the child from his father’s arms in the early hours of the morning, all three of you only half conscious at that point, and you spent several cycles trying to get the kid (and yourself) back on a normal sleep schedule.

Or like today, when Mando returned this morning while it was still dark outside, and you woke to the smell of cocoa and peppermint what felt like mere minutes after you’d fallen asleep. When you finally pulled yourself from the bunk, you found Mando sitting next to the child as they sipped on steaming liquid, his helmet tilted back just enough for him to bring the mug to his lips. 

He made the kid hot chocolate, you realized from the way the child threw back his bowl so quickly he left milky brown splotches on his face. Of course. Mando had made a habit of bringing sweets back for his son after he’d once gotten his hands on a chocolate bar you’d splurged on in the market, nearly bouncing off the walls with glee as he devoured the entire thing in seconds. That was a memorable day for all of you: the kid found his new favorite snack, Mando found another way to indulge the child, and you found out that when the kid has sugar in his system, you need caf more than water to survive the day.

So it’s no surprise that several hours and a couple more servings of hot chocolate later, long after Mando’s gone to the cockpit to fly to the next planet, you’re chasing the tiny ball of energy around the hull, running on nothing but an unhealthy amount of caf mixed with a little bit of spite, worried you might collapse before the sugar-fueled monster falls asleep.

You have half a mind to be mad at Mando for getting the kid so hyped up on the decadent drink and inevitably making your job that much harder, but you can’t get the image of them together this morning out of your head, Mando dabbing the mess from the child’s face as giggles bubbled from his tiny mouth. The memory’s shaded with the golden haze of dawn, like those dreams that feel warm and familiar, and you can feel your heart swell re-imagining that moment of perfect bliss, father and son so content just to be with each other and the sweetness in their cups.

And oh, you know you could never be upset at Mando for indulging the kid, creating those little pockets of warmth in a life filled mostly by cold, dead space, no matter how much more work it makes for you. Not when you know that he savors those moments as much as the child, that the days he’s back with his son are the only times he doesn’t have to be tough and menacing and deadly, the Crest the only place he doesn’t have to armor up his feelings just as much as his body.

You’re willing to reign in the kid, be the tough one on the ship, if it means Mando can show his son the softness that lies beneath the beskar, tuck away the sharp edges when he holds the little green menace in his lap. You’re willing to lose weeks of sleep course-correcting after each indulgence if it means he can let the honey of his love ooze thick and messy before he’s off to the next quarry and has to lock his affection behind iron walls again. You’re even willing to drink all the caf in the galaxy, let cup after cup burn bitter down your throat, if it means he can have a moment of peace sipping hot chocolate with his son at the break of dawn. 

You’re more than willing, happy even, to do all that and more for him, especially if it means you can catch glimpses of the man behind the guise of “Mando” in the process, a man whose heart you’ve found yourself wondering more and more about lately, wondering if it might one day beat strong and steady for you the same way it does for the kid.

So no, you’re not mad at Mando, not in the slightest. It’s more that right now you’re worried you might not be physically able to do those things for him, the shorter than usual night of sleep catching up with you faster than you can fight it off with caf. You’re pretty sure it stopped working after your third cup anyway, the additional caffeine just making you dizzy and no more energized, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep up with the child’s pace. You’ve played peekaboo and thrown around his favorite silver ball and even tried to show him how to rewire an old generator (not that you had any luck with that), and he still hasn’t crashed from his sugar high. 

You have no idea what else to do to keep the child busy, and Maker, you’re just so kriffing tired right now, so you’ve resorted to leaning against the door of the weapons closet, floating in that hazy space on the brink of consciousness, using what little of your energy remains to make sure he at least won’t get his hands on a blaster again. 

You’re not even completely sure what the kid’s doing right now, just know he’s somewhere on the other side of the hull, and you can only hope that Mando doesn’t come down here and find you and the kid like this. The last thing you want to do is make him worry, doubt how much you care about his son’s well being, but it’s like he can feel your exhaustion radiating through the ship because the next thing you know, the heavy echoes of his boots fill the hull as he descends the ladder from the cockpit. 

You will yourself to sit up straighter as you hear his footsteps getting louder, locate the child before Mando can, but your body is working on a little bit of a lag, and by the time you actually open your eyes, Mando’s walking past you, the child snoring softly in his arms.

Of course he fell asleep as soon as you took eyes off of him, the little monster.

Mando doesn’t say anything as he tucks the child into his makeshift bed before striding back to the other side of the hull, and some faraway part of your brain tells you to explain yourself or apologize or say kriffing anything at this point, but the inky gravity of sleep is pulling you in deeper with each passing moment, and you can’t be bothered to speak when your eyes are threatening to droop shut again. 

They must have at some point because you don’t remember seeing Mando approach you, but somehow he’s in front of you now, holding a mug out in front of your face. Maker, you must’ve drifted off, long enough for him to decide you needed some help staying awake and make you a cup of caf, and as you reach for it instinctively, bringing the cup to your lips in the trained motion, you can’t decide if it’s just as a thoughtful gesture or a thinly veiled warning for you to actually do your job.

You hum as the warm liquid coats your tongue, deliciously silky and slightly sweet, and it’s only when you swallow, the milky substance gliding down your throat, that you realize-

“This isn’t caf,” you mumble, looking up from the mug to meet Mando’s gaze.

“I never said it was.”

You just stare at him wordlessly, trying to figure out why he made you hot chocolate when it’s not going to make you any more functional. You have no idea how long you sit there thinking, too far gone to even understand the concept of time right now, but it must be a while because he breaks the silence first with a sigh.

“Cyar’ika, you have to stop drinking that crap. It’s not good for you.”

“Need it,” you respond, almost too quickly considering how long it took you to answer him before. Apparently the only thing you can understand in this groggy fog is your caf addiction. “Gonna fall asleep if not.”

“You’re about to anyway. Come on, you need to sleep.”

For some reason you giggle at that, unable to stop the laughter rising through your chest. He’s right, of course, but it just seems so damn funny right now that Mando, who has told you he rarely sleeps when he’s away, who you’ve never seen rest for more than an hour at a time, is telling you that you’re the one that needs sleep.

“You sleep even less than me, Mando. You can’t talk,” you accuse.

He jerks his helmet back in something like disbelief, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling again.

“Well I’m not the one falling asleep on the floor right now,” he counters.

“That’s fair,” you admit. You take a few more sips of the hot chocolate, closing your eyes in pleasure as the warmth floods your veins. Maybe it’s just because you’re so used to the sharp bite of caf, but the sugary drink feels so good, like something comforting and familiar though you can’t quite place your finger on where you recognize it from. It’s almost like you’re wrapped up in the thickest blanket or, even better, by strong arms as you’re lulled to sleep, and you’re not sure that’s what you were thinking of, but you realize that’s exactly what you want right now. 

And then your stupid, half-conscious brain decides to ask for it in the worst way possible.

“How about this, I’ll sleep if you sleep with me.”

You only catch how kriffing suggestive it sounds as the words come tumbling out of your mouth, but then all at once, you’re utterly aware of how much you’ve been embarrassing yourself. First getting caught falling asleep on the job and then accidentally making a very blunt pass at your boss, and Maker, you’re just a whole ass mess today aren’t you? Suddenly you feel very awake, your eyes going wide as you stumble over your words trying to backtrack as quickly as possible.

“Oh stars, I didn’t mean sleep with me, that’s definitely not what I, well, not that I wouldn’t…no, I just- I do need sleep but so do you, even if you’re not actually falling asleep right now, so I was just gonna say that we should both-”

But then your rambling is cut off by a chuckle coming from the modulator, his voice light and playful in a way you’ve never heard before.

If you weren’t so kriffing worried about what he was thinking about you right now, you might’ve thought it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“I know what you meant, cyar’ika,” he says. 

Oh, thank Maker, you think, waves of something like relief washing warm over your body. You’re not quite sure how he can understand what it is you want when you can’t even articulate it yourself, but your brain is still too foggy to care, deciding it doesn’t really matter how he knows you so well, just that he does.

Mando eases the mug from your hands, the worn leather of his gloves brushing lightly over your knuckles. You whine in protest as he steals the liquid comfort from your fingers, but it’s quickly replaced by his hands wrapping around yours to help you off the ground.

“I’ll make you more tomorrow,” he assures you, his voice as velvety as the drink he just took from your grasp. “But now, we need to sleep.”

We, not you. 

You barely catch the distinction as he leads you to the bunk while his thumb rubs soothing circles on your lower back, but it just leaves you even more confused in your sleepy daze. You didn’t think he was actually going to entertain your suggestion, even if he did take it in the more innocent way, and when you crawl into the bunk and he doesn’t follow, you think maybe you just misheard him.

But as you close your eyes, your exhaustion starting to pull you away from reality again, you hear the clang of metal on metal behind you, and a gentle tap on your calf halts your descent into the stillness of sleep as Mando climbs into the bunk next to you.

It’s only after he shuts the door, when your body is pressed to his so you both fit in the tiny space, that you realize he’s taken his armor off, the first time he’s ever done so in front of you. You can’t see him at all in the darkness of the bunk, you’re not sure you could even open your eyes again at this point anyway, but even in your delirium you can grasp the weight of how vulnerable he’s making himself right now, letting you run your fingers lazily across the tight muscles of his bicep and rest your head against his broad chest.

And once again, you’re overcome by the feeling of something pleasant and vaguely familiar, your heart swelling the same way it did when you first saw Mando and the child this morning, the same warmth in your veins as the first sip of hot chocolate. You couldn’t quite place it before, but for some reason, as you listen to the way his heart beats strong and steady against you, you think you finally recognize it, the way Mando’s been making you feel all day, the reason he knew exactly what you needed before you could even realize it yourself.

It’s just a hazy flash in the moment before the black hole of sleep finally consumes you, an inkling of a breakthrough you may or not remember tomorrow, but you think this feeling, the acrid taste of caf replaced by smooth chocolate on your tongue, a strong body turned soft as it’s molded to yours, has a four letter name you thought you and Mando only saved for the child.

Maybe that’s why you’re learning to use it for each other too.

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 5

The chapter 5 is heeeere (I’m tired today, I have no idea of what to write ahaha)

(Link for Chapter 6 here)

Chapter 5 : Hate me, just a moment

- Ok, given your techniques ... passable, he began cautiously, we will start by seeing what your current level is and we will adapt accordingly.

I gave the blackest look I had in store to my opponent for the day. Our training hadn't even started yet and I was already more than sick of hearing him say that I was a good-for-nothing when it came to combat.

- But consider yourself happy, you will have the best teacher, he continued, visibly amused by the situation.

I intensified my exasperated expression while crossing my arms over my chest. He was doing too much.

- Very well, O great Master, and how are we supposed to do it ?

- You see that you can put your own when you want!

- Lance if you continue, I'll go back to bed.

Faced with my bored expression but still slightly, I say slightly, amused, the latter finally became serious again before bending down to grab two weapons.

- Ok, already try to hit one of my blanks with this sword.

He handed me a blade with a blunt end that shouldn't have cut anything for a long time.

- What, is that all ? I wondered.

- Succeed in touching me and we will move on to the next step.

Under his attention, I cautiously grabbed the object he patiently handed me. The dragon then took a guard position and waited for me to storm it. This scene ironically reminded me of a few days ago, when I had tried to physically take it out on him. Finally, let's not forget that I still stuck my fist in his face this time.

What a satisfying achievement.

I took a deep breath before rushing in his direction, aiming to succeed in my mission and to close his valve to Mr. I Am The Strongest. Touching him just once, it couldn't be that hard.

But to my dismay, the task turned out to be much more difficult than I had expected. The leader of the Obsidian indeed parries each of my attacks with agility and, despite all my good will, I finally out of breath more than anything else to strike tirelessly in the void. Lance moved easily, which only made my tiredness worse. Sweat began to bead on my back as the weight of the sword weighed more and more on my wrists.

Finally, how could you fight with something so heavy in your hands ?

Destabilized in the face of the immense difference in level which was growing between us, I decided to try everything for the whole while feigning a side step to better storm it from behind. For a moment I thought I had broken his guard and a rift opened in front of me, but to my frustration he neutralized my sword with startling ease and sent it flying away from our breathless bodies. Hell, was that all I was able to give ?!

Tired and annoyed at my poor performance, I was about to drop this silly class altogether when her deep, rocky voice filled the small space between us.

- Do you really feel capable of protecting yourself and those around you with this level ? How will you do if another person, filled with the same anger as me at the time, decides to attack Eldarya again ? Your gift is unique, Andraste. It is even necessary. Just as I am the last of the dragons, you are the last of the Aengels with Leiftan, you have to go out and prove what you have in your stomach.

Hearing this sordid truth, my breath immediately hitched, sending shivers of apprehension along my skin.

- Apparently, human weapons were found near the HQ, much more dangerous than ours. I have a huge debt to you and I would do anything to greet it, but you need to be aware of what is going on here. I repeat, you are no longer completely safe now and like the other members of the Guard, I do not intend to hide the truth from you.

Did he just say "human weapons" or had I dreamed ?

- But what do you expect from me, finally ?! I cried suddenly. I too would like to regain my powers and my desire to fight, but I can't ! There are some weird things going on in my body and I don't feel like I can access all of my memories. Everything is blurry, as if I was blocking access myself !

Seeming to be speaking more to himself than to me, he muttered weakly :

- In this case, the only way is to revive the feelings you had when you used them.

- What...

Lance grabbed me abruptly by the waist before coming to pin the round end of his sword to my stomach. Each of my breaths sank the blade deeper into my skin as his frozen gaze never left me.

- Remember the way I treated you, you and the others. Remember how I killed your own familiar right in front of your eyes, how I left Nevra prey to sea creatures, how I landed the last blow on V ...

I didn't let him finish his sentence. Like an electric shock, I felt something separate inside me. In an instant, I was reliving everything. The battle, the doubt, the anger ... the mourning. Everything came back to me as loud as a slap. The smell of blood on my hands, the lifeless bodies of my friends, the creepy smile of my enemy ... Lance's !

In a whisper that seemed to cost him, I nevertheless heard in the meanders of my memories, the words that the dragon spoke just in my ear:

- Hate me, just a moment.

As if to echo what he asked of me, I pushed away the one who haunted my memories with all my strength, all my hatred. My limbs were shaking, my mouth twitching as if in spasms. I was no longer in control of myself, I couldn't breathe properly. Feeling the pressure of the young man increasing against my body, anger overwhelmed me so much that I felt a powerful heat forming in the palm of my palms.

Immediately realizing that something was happening, the murderer of my nightmares slowly stopped the pressure of his blade against my stomach. Turning his face to face my hands, he suddenly seemed fascinated by the strength around us.

- There, that's exactly it...

Her caressing voice galvanized me, growing the energy I felt escaping from my extremities. But soon, a feeling of panic took hold of me.

I was not ready to relive those memories.

With dread, I tried in vain to push him away, letting tears spring to the corners of my eyes.

- Let go of me, Lance !!

Cautiously, he gently let go of my body and raised his hands in a sign of peace.

- Andraste, calm down. I didn't want to scare you, I don't mean any harm to you, he said to me in a soft tone that wanted to be reassuring, even though I felt the hint of alert that marked his voice.

In my head, flashes of the past mingled with the present in a maddening clarity that terrified me. I no longer knew where or when I was at that moment, I was lost in the meanders of my mind. Distraught, I fixed my gaze on the one identical thing between my memories and the present moment.

That look of a blue as cold as ice.

And for a moment, I got lost in it. Clinging fiercely to the stability it gave me, I breathed deep gulps of air into my battered lungs. Gradually, the anguish left my tired mind, leaving me without any energy.

As weak as I was.

When my legs gave way under me, Lance was there to catch up with me. And when sadness took hold of my heart violently, he was also there to ease my pain slightly.

- Forgive me, Andraste ...

His words almost begged me.

*

Following the fiasco that had been this incident, I had no longer allowed the dragon to enter my living space. No one, to tell the truth.

I had thus spent entire days locked in my room, fleeing all presence. The blockage which until then had kept my memories and my emotions since I woke up, had finally lifted, like a cork that is removed, leaving despite myself a streak of feelings to take hold of my being.

I knew for a fact why Lance had gone so far, but even despite that, I resented him terribly. The flood of memories that had seized me had been too violent, tiring my already exhausted body even more. I couldn't take that much, I just wasn't ready for it. That was why I had needed to get away from him, not being able to bear even more what he was creating in me.

Over time, my fatigue did not diminish, but it stopped interfering with my mood nonetheless. Little by little, I had decided to open up again to the outside world and to socialize. Fortunately for me, Mathieu had shown himself to be a great ally and talking to him and the other members had proved to be the best medicine.

Later, I had run into Lance on several occasions. I knew very well that the latter wanted to address me but each time, I had ended up skilfully avoiding it.

(Chapter 6)

[the-peak-of-despair]

Mastermind! Chihiro Fujisaki - The Sixth Trial

This wasn’t exactly an old request, just a suggestion to write whatever I felt like. And I love mastermind AUs so fucking much, please, flood my inbox asking about them, I just wanna talk about our lord and savior mastermind chihiro - Mod Akane

“And that would mean..” Makoto begins, the realization striking him as he turns to Chihiro, staring fearfully back at him. “Y-You’re the mastermind, Chihiro!” 

There’s doubt in his voice. He doesn’t want to believe it. His friend, who’d opened up to him, who shares his deepest secrets, in his most vulnerable state… he’d orchestrated all of this? From the outside, he looked like he would burst into tears if he killed a bee. Suppose that’s the trick behind it…

“C-Chihiro..? I-It was you..?” Asahina stutters, looking at him horrified.

“I-I-” Chihiro begins to stutter. He looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. No one in the courtroom believes this claim, how could they? But the evidence was stacked against him.. 

It’s before anyone can argue that Chihiro snaps into an entirely new persona, and the tears are gone. “Yep! That’s me! I’m the mastermind!” 

Everyone takes a step back. Chihiro’s face contorted in a way no one had ever imagined. In an instant, his entire personality changed. His tears evaporated into thin air and despair seemed to wash over his face, seeping down to his very core as his eyes lost all sign of true emotion.

“Gosh, you’re so smart, Makoto!” Chihiro says, clapping his hands like a child. “I can’t believe you found me out!” 

“No. There’s simply no way this is possible.” Byakuya interrupts, crossing his arms. “Chihiro, stop playing games. There’s no way you are the mastermind.”

“Oh no, I really am!” Chihiro smiles. With a snap of his fingers, Monokuma shut down, almost like he was playing dead where he stood on the ground. Chihiro left his podium and approached the robot, standing next to it and humming while he examined it.

..And then, in a sudden instant, he slammed his foot into the robot, kicking it as hard as he could. Monokuma flew into a distant wall, shattering into a million black and white pieces as Chihiro didn’t even blink. Everyone in the courtroom drew back, even Byakuya and Kirigri, unable to hide their shock.

“H-Holy shit!” Yashuiro screams in fear as Chihiro turns back towards the circle of survivors. The room begins to fill with smoke, making most people cough and wave it away from their faces. In a second, it clears, revealing Chihiro in a new outfit, with a Monokuma-esq color palette to boot.

“Da-dun-dun! That’s right, the mastermind all along was Chihiro Fujisaki!” He smiles wildly, throwing his arms out in a grand gesture. Standing between Asahina and Yashuiro at his new podium, he seems so small, but he’s so.. Terrifying. The sudden switch in personalities shook everyone to the very core.

“This doesn’t make sense..” Kirigiri mutters. “How could you control Monokuma and almost never leave our sight?” 

Chihiro backs up until he’s sat on top of the ‘throne’ Monokuma used to always sit on top of. He crosses his legs and leans back, getting comfortable in his seat above everyone else. “Pfffffffft! He’s an AI, come on Kirigiri, aren’t you smarter than this?” Chihiro mocks Kirigiri. “I’ve been living under your noses as the Ultimate Programmer, Monokuma wasn’t even my best work!” 

“That doesn’t make sense. His movements and conversations with us.. They’re nothing like any AI I’ve ever seen.” Byakuya argues.

“Clean your glasses, Byakuya! Didn’t you see Alter Ego?” Chihiro poses the question as he sits up and leans over the arm of his chair towards Byakuya. “They’re all easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!~ I’ve got an iron grip on the technology production from here to Towa City!”

“Speaking of Alter Ego..” Kirgiri interrupts, halting Byakuya’s personal slander. “What was the point of presenting him to us?” 

Chihiro lets out a giggle. “Yeaah, Alter Ego was a bit of a mistake on my part! You weren’t supposed to find it. But since you did I thought it wouldn’t hurt to spin you in the wrong direction a bit!” 

“And his execution?”

“Oh, that was Monokuma’s decision! Spur of the moment thing. I didn’t really mind, it was collateral damage!” Chihiro shrugs. “Collateral damage.. Kinda like Mondo and Kiyotaka!” He smiles, and as he watches everyone in the room come to a full stop before looking at Chihiro with disgust.

“C-Collateral d-damage..?” Makoto stutters. “T-Those were our friends, Chihiro! What the.. What the hell!? They were your friends!”

“Huh, were they?” Chihiro asks sarcastically, tapping a finger to his chin. “Huh. If they were, I just used them!” 

“Y-You what…?” Asahina stutters.

“I used them! I mean, Mondo and Taka were like a package deal! I needed Mondo to make me stronger, and Taka only played by my rules! Let me tell you, it was s-”

“S-Shut up!” Makoto interrupts Chihiro, who perks up, interested in his sudden boldness. “W-We still need to talk about what happened in the last trial!”

“Oooh, you mean where I killed Sakura and framed Toko ‘cus I got bored? What’s there to talk about?” Chihiro asks, excited. “...Aha, did I let that slip?” 

“R-Repeat that.” Asahina suddenly becomes cold, her fists balled tight at her sides. 

“I’m sure you heard me, Asahina!” Chihiro smiles, standing from his throne and once again approaching the podium. “I killed Sakua and framed Toko!”

Asahina begins to breathe heavy, doing  everything in her power to contain her anger as Chihiro continues to talk. “I mean, really, do you think Toko could actually kill Sakura? I don’t even think her wacky double-personality could’ve taken her down! So I worked a bit of magic, aaand..!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Asahina screams, slamming her hands on her podium. “Y-You- You bastard! What the fuck is wrong with you Chihiro?!” She screams, turning and grabbing him by the collar, dragging him close to her face, so close that his feet barely grazed the ground. “I- You fucking killed her! Y-You killed Sakura! I-I- I loved her, you...you..!”

Chihiro doesn’t even look phased as Asahina spits venom in his face. “Hey, Hina! You remember what happened to Junko? Right?” He grins sadistically as the fear begins to strike Asahina, who drops him and takes a step back. 

There’s a familiar whirring noise, and out of nowhere there's a spear that shoots from the middle of the room towards Asahina, almost identical to what happened to Junko. Asahina flinches and draws back violently, forcing the spear to only grace her cheek before slamming into the wall behind her. She opens her eyes, breathing heavy with fear as she held her hand to her cheek. “O-Oh my god..”  

“Gah, I missed!” Chihiro pouts. “I need to get better at shooting games.” 

“G-Games?! Y-You could’ve killed me!” Asahina yells, still holding a hand to her cheek. 

“That’s the fun in it!” Chihiro grins. Once upon a time, this was a wide, innocent grin. Now, it was nothing but evil. Full of despair and agony. And that’s probably exactly what Chihiro wanted. 

Makoto could only wonder- what could possibly push this poor boy to the breaking point..?

If you looked close enough, the answer was laid out in plain sight. 

“Well!” Chihiro claps his hands. “What is there to talk about now? Surely the trial won’t come to a close so easily!” Chihiro scans the room, taking in every facial expression of pure disgust and pain around him. 

“Why..? Why did you do all this?” Makoto asks, basically gripping his podium for dear life. He couldn’t just take all of this in easily. One of his best friends, through this entire hellhole, a person he’d protected with his fucking life and would follow into battle blindly… he was the mastermind? Chihiro, a boy who no one would suspect, he was pulling the strings, he’d orchestrated every death, he’d warped Hope’s Peak into a place of despair..? 

He recalls the moment in the bathhouse when he told Kirigiri: “I’d follow you into battle if I had to!” 

And her response.. “Not such a wise choice, is it?”

Chihiro’s face falls. “Do you know what it’s like, Makoto..?” His tone changes, it’s low and unlike anything anyone had heard from Chihiro before. “To be bullied, every single day, pummeled into the fucking dirt?!” Despair overwhelms his entire face, but he starts to laugh.. “Every.. Goddamn day! Until the point where you.. Hahaa.. You’ve gotta change your whole identity, just to be safe!”  

“Chihiro.. I-” Yasuhiro looks like he’s about to set a hand on his shoulder. Forgetting for just a moment that this was a boy who’d killed his friends, and possibly even thousands, just remembering that once upon a time they were friends.  

Chihiro smacks his hand away with alarming strength, still laughing all as tears gather in his eyes. “NO!” He screams, almost like it was a reflex. “I don’t need.. Ahahaha.. I don’t need anyone’s help anymore! That despair..it only.. It only made me stronger! AhahaAHAHAHA! A-And I- I’ve basked this entire world in despair!” Chihiro hugs himself, breaking into boisterous, manic laughter. 

“What do you mean, the entire world?” Byakuya asks, seemingly unphased by Chihiro’s manic breakdown. Of course, Byakuya wasn’t ever ‘friends’ with the boy… though part of him couldn’t help but reflect on the.. Choice words he’d used against him before. 

Chihiro doesn’t even stop laughing. “Oh, ah..ahaha! I forgot all about that! While you were all locked up in here, the entire world has plunged into despair!” He claps his hands twice, before throwing his arms out wide, gesturing towards the monitors on every corner of the room. The monitors flicker, then turn on, showing a repeating news broadcast.

The broadcast was simple, a repetitive broadcast of a red sky overtop of war and destruction, all with the face of Monokuma plastered all over.  It shakes everyone in the room to the core, except for Chihiro, who gleefully watches his handiwork as he wipes his tears away. “Isn’t it lovely!? Everything destroyed.. Right down to your very bloodlines!”

“No. I simply won’t believe this.” Byakuya starts again. “This is foolish. A highschool boy couldn’t just take down the world.”

“Ahaha, I didn’t work alone, silly Byakuya!” Chihiro grins. “Despair spreads like a plague! And that plague even took down your precious Togami family!” 

“Wh-What..?” Fear seems to take over  Byakuya, if only for a split second. “Th-The Togami family doesn’t just lay down and die! Who the hell backs you!?”

Chihiro laughs. “Despair, dummy! How many times do I gotta repeat myself!?” The words send Byakuya down a spiral, even without evidence.. The very thought shook him to the core.

“H-Hey!” Makoto argues. “This can’t be true! Last I remember, the world was just fine! We’ve been here a month, tops, there’s no way you could’ve done this in all that time!” 

“Weren’t we already over this?” Chihiro asks. “You lost your memories! If I whack ya hard enough, you might get ‘em back! But we’ve all been cooped up, shielded from the outside world! And now you’ve spent your days trying to crawl out of this home we all built together! Isn’t that just a tad hypocritical?” 

“W-Wait, you mean..?” Asahina catches what Chihiro means first- the world had crumbled, and they’d all been here for two years, and then they… 

“W-What was the point of all of this!?” Makoto asks, cutting off any other thought processes about how they’d been gone for two whole years. 

“Huh? Well, I kept you alive, hijacked the airwaves, and displayed you murdering each other for the world to see because I wanted to spread despair to the last dying shreds of hope in the world!” Chihiro explains casually. “I mean, I’ve laid this all out in plain sight for you.” 

“W-” Byakuya begins to speak.

Chihiro interrupts. “Yeah, yeah, be quiet, we’ve had enough of you. Now!” He claps his hands together, excited. “Since this is a trial, I give you one last vote. You can vote for despair- vote to give me the punishment I deserve- or, vote for hope, and stay here for the rest of your golden days!”

“L-Let me get this straight..” Asahina starts. “If we just vote for hope, none of us die..?” 

Chihiro hums. “Well, I suppose, but.. That doesn’t sound as fun! So how about this: vote for hope, and I’ll only execute one of you! The rest of you get to live out the rest of your lives with moi.” He folds his hands under his chin, in an oh-so familiar way. Was he mocking Celeste..? 

“W-Who’ll get executed..?” Yasuhiro stutters.

“Hm..” Chihiro hums as he looks around the room. He starts pointing from person to person. “Eenie.. Meanie… minie… you!” He lands on Makoto, who exhibits a fearful look in return.

“Y-You’ll execute me…?” Makoto stutters, fearful. Somewhere inside him, this felt familiar. 

“Well of course! You seem to be the obvious answer.” Chihiro smiles gleefully, as if he didn’t just imply that with ease he would slaughter his friend. “Why, you used to be my closest friend! You.. were the first person I trusted! What better despair than for you to die at my own hands?” 

Makoto takes a deep breath as he turns to his friends, full of despair and pain. Their hands hovering over their levers, obvious that they would seem.. Almost willing to put Makoto’s life on the line. He looks back at Chihiro, with a devilish grin paired with despair-filled eyes. He starts to laugh, like a loud symphony, bouncing off the walls and into everyone’s ears in an inescapable manner. He laughs so hard he almost starts crying once more, laughing so much it hurt.

Laughing like someone who’d been torn up inside and out and loved every fucking minute of it.

[sloppy-butcher]

Waitin’ On a Superman -  Chapter 3 : Like Pulling Teeth

(The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) x female!reader)

notes: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and enjoy what i have managed to produce so far <3 its really helps me with my confidence and such

also i have made a spotify playlist of songs that i personally listen to when getting in the mood of the story. i would like to share it but only if yall would like to hear it ahaha  er anyway, thank you again <3 

Previous ; Next 

Pulling your head free from the grasp of the hay straws felt like something akin to being born. All at once you were alive again, breathing in the cool barn air having just awoken from the land of musky earth. It was refreshing; cleansing; jarring. The dream world fell away and noise and smell bombarded you, crashing in like unforgiving waves against a wayward boat. You were confused by your surroundings, head turning around frantic for clues, until your eyes landed upon familiar yellow and you remembered everything.

You remember walking. You remember the dog. And you remember him. 

It was brighter now, your mind more inclined to function as intended without fog or muck to slow production. You remember his voice, the sound of his heavy footsteps, the way in which he spoke and how he had helped you. Kindness, even small as his was, was such a rare oddity here, strangers only being associated with unforgivable violence and cruelty. But he was kind, offered you rest and protection where others would simply chase you out. It surprised you, more now than it did when it had occurred. How strange, how very strange indeed.

As you stood up from your make-shift bed, dusting stray straws off your jeans and t-shirt, a part of you started to construct a way of saying thank you to the man. Though you had nothing to give, nothing of material value, you somehow felt obligated to present to him your utmost appreciation for his generosity. It was an ingrained and practiced habit that consumed you until you started to focus more on the man himself.

You remember feeling oddly familiar with him - something about his voice perhaps? Or the way in which he walked and presented himself? Whatever it was, it triggered something from you, a deep, visceral response that made your stomach grow heavy with lead and your palms begin to sweat. And the more you tried to identify the specifics of your sudden upheaval, bringing it to the forefront of your attention, the heavier the response became and the more panicked you began to feel. Dread crept up your back and nestled into your shoulder whenever you thought about him. Something about trying to remember him made you feel … terrified. There was simply no other word to describe it. He terrified you. You just couldn’t understand why.

You were stuck at a crossroads. A part of you wanted to find the man and personally thank him for everything, to pay forward his kindness using gestures of companionship and see how far one could push this unique experience. The other part of you never wanted to meet the man ever again, demanding you flee at once and never looked back. Each road pulled at you, neither one able to one-up the other in strength and appeal thus leaving you at an uncomfortable, pointed balance. You rub your face with your hands, sighing as you tried to sway yourself to make a decision. You wished you were back asleep.

Nothing offered itself as assistance to your plea as you paced the barn and with no other option, you relented your fruitless battle and walked out into the night. Whatever will happen, will happen - whether that be you see him again or you finally manage to escape the corn-maze, you were going to meet it head-on regardless. 

You stood on the border of the clearing between the barn safety and the yellow ocean, gazing into the sweet abyss that had been devouring you for so long. You wanted to stay at the barn, at the only sign of land where you could not drown. But you remembered his warning and with a heavy sigh you set off. Without looking back you stepped out into the field, casting yourself once more off to sea, letting go of the red barn and allowing the wind to swallow you whole and carry you to wherever it wished. However, you had only been walking for a few minutes before you heard the heavy panting of the dog behind you. So this is what has been decided. No fighting it, no running.

“Hello again.” You stopped and breathed in, gathering your confidence in the face of the beast, willing yourself not to give in to the unjustified fear.  You had no reason to be so afraid, he had done nothing to you. Not yet. “I was hoping I’d find you again.” Your voice was calmer, collecting itself in idle conversation. You slowly, careful of quick movement so as not to frighten him or yourself, roll your head around your position, trying to spot any sign of the man hiding away. “I wanted to thank you for your generosity.”

“Did you sleep?” The man answered almost immediately, somewhat throwing you off balance. From how reserved and mild he was during the previous encounter you were sure you’d have to sweet talk him a little more to get him to open up. But his eagerness was not unwelcomed and you gave yourself over to talking.

“I did. On the hay pile in the barn. It was…” You paused from a moment, all cylinders in your brain firing in an attempt to find the appropriate word to describe your rest, “...great, I suppose.” At this he paused, probably to take in your response and work out a retort. In the silence something stirred, curling itself into your already weak stomach. You shooed it away and willed him to speak.

“Donny always liked the hay. It makes a good bed.” He said finally, drawing your mind away from the coldness in your palms and to his voice. You tilt your head at his mention of ‘Donny’. Was he referring to the same pig from the other night? Or in some weird way was he calling you ‘Donny’? For now you let the confusion slide and instead pushed on with the discussion.

“Do you not sleep?” You asked, your head continuing to timidly scan your surroundings. If he was opposed to your efforts to locate him, the man did not show it and without him actively stopping you, you endured without complaint. You practically heard the man shrug.

“Don’t try to.” He mumbled halfheartedly. 

“It's because you’re stuck, like me. Right?” His perplexed quiet was enough of an indicator for you to example yourself. “I mean, you’re stuck here in this corn field. Just like me. I may not know exactly how long I have been here but I know it’s been a while.” You look down at your hands, fingernails dirty from stains you could not remember getting. “I’ve been walking through this field forever and yet I never reach a fence. Or a house. Or anything.” Speaking your fears into life was somewhat cathartic for you, reaching out to this strange person with a hand trembling and unsure made you hope beyond reason that he could sympathize with your plea. To be human and experience and understand the toils of another as if they were your own. You lifted your eyes to the corn and towards the position where you guessed him to be. You smiled, lips chapped and cracking from the stretch but persevering regardless. It hurt you to grin, a gesture you had not partaken in for so long that you had almost forgotten how to even do it. You hoped that it at least looked more sincere than it felt.

“You are stuck.” The man replied in his ever gruff and rocky voice, like stones crashing around in an engine. “I am stuck sometimes. The corn is like mud. It sinks.” 

“Sometimes?” You inquire, an eyebrow lifting as your interest peaked. He grunted, sounding as if nodding with force.

“I can leave only when Boy is called. Called by the spider in the sky.” Suddenly, you jumped and gasped loudly.

“You know about that thing!?” You twirl on your feet, spinning around the corn looking for any hint of the man. Your eyes were ablaze with glory, ironic relief washing over your body at his words. Here you found another lost soul. Another person who could feel the sky pulsing and eating. Someone who knew that there was more to this world than just psycho killers wielding axes. “I thought I was the only one who could sense it! No one else at the campfire believed me when I said there was something up there.” Your victory waned at the mention of the campfire. Your smiling dwindled and your movement stopped, eyes clouded and downcast. The campfire? The others. When was the last time you had seen them? The last time you had seen anyone for the fact? You could barely remember their faces. They were all a blur like mist on a foggy bathroom mirror, there were faces but no details. Names but no meaning. You suddenly felt very lonely and longed to go back to that horrible campfire with those equally horrible people. 

A most nasty habit that people had - the want to flock together like sheep. Though to be with people irked you, riding up with an ill-fitting pair of jeans on tender skin, there was no denying that your heart ached when it realized it was alone. You always said you liked being alone but you always hated being lonely.

“Will you walk with me?” Your voice was distant as your thoughts drifted back to the people waiting at the campfire, your tongue moving before your mind would react. “Will you walk with me to the fence?” In your stupor, the man’s reaction to your request went unnoticed. He was shocked, gawking at you with wide, disbelieving eyes and his mouth agape. He examined you from head to toe, tearing you apart with suspicious eyes, trying to uncover if you were attempting to hurt him or not. Was this some kind of joke? Were you going to laugh at him? You knew that there was no real fence, no true boundary to this place, and yet you wanted to exhaust yourself trying to find it? He was baffled by your ignorant persistence and resorted to studying you harder for any cracks in your outward appearance. Where he expected to find half-hidden malice, he only saw sadness. You were sad, he knew what it looked like on people. And it wasn’t fake sadness either, not the kind that people on the T.V wore when something bad happened. Yours was real, he could smell it. 

“I will walk with you. To the fence.” The man replied softly, speaking at a volume that was tentative and hesitant, a part of him still remaining apprehensive to your next actions. You raise your head at his confirmation, a glimmer of your former smile returning to your lips.

“Thank you.” You lowered your head in a meager bow and after a moment debating whether to let him lead or you, you walked off in a direction you presumed to be forward with the man setting off behind you.

All through the walk you racked your brain from conversation topics; lovely weather we are having? What do you think someone would do with all this corn? There were so many different options to choose from yet each fell flat when pitted against possibility. Try as you might, you just could not think of anything to say. It also did not help that that horrible, foreboding feeling had followed you out there, trailing you like a dark cloud. With the man so close your familiar fear kicked itself into overdrive. There was just something so recognizable about him, something dreadful and vile. But what? What about him had spooked you to this extent? Sure, his voice was raspy and congested and his breathing was that of a sleeping beast, but his words and the soft tones he used were all of that of a boy. A simple youth who bled this pure form of compassion and slowness. Such a contradicting feeling he gave off, to be the reason you wanted to flee yet drawing you in with a need to know more about him. You yearned for the talking of frivolous topics to distract you from the gnawing panic that resided in your stomach but the rivers ran dry of inspiration and you were left to walk in pitiful, heavy silence.   

In one last, desperate grab at distraction, you started to pay attention to his footsteps, a task made easier in the barren landscape of only corn and wind. His pace was loud and large, landing with each step in a heavy stomp. He must be very tall, you supposed. Or very big. The weight of the sound, after being taken into consideration, was not deemed as important to focus on when you noticed the odd rhythm he had. Instead of a consistent 1-2 pace that most people would have, the man had a rather jolted one. The space between thumps were uneven and gave you the impression that he had some kind of limp or poor leg. In a strange sense it almost sounded like a heartbeat.

Something flickered at your revelation. It was such a unique walk pattern that it triggered a memory in you, a vision of running and hiding away and the sound of a chainsaw. The fear flexed itself in your stomach. It did not help when the breeze shifted and you managed to catch a whiff of that previously undisclosed smell. His smell. The coppery smell of fresh blood. The coldness spread further, you mind reeling as the fingers of your panic threatened to grab you. You remember that walk. You remember that breathing. You remember that heartbeat.

You squeeze your eyes shut, mentally willing your body to calm down and stop racing to conclusions. Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about the dog. Stop- 

You come to a sudden stop when you realize that he was not behind you anymore. Snapping your eyes open you were greeted by the sight of the dilapidated red barn and its open doors. Disappointment mingled with your fluttering chest, terror mixing well with despair in a deadly concoction.

“I really am stuck here.” You mumbled to yourself, hands falling from your arms to hang useless at your sides. “There really is no way out.”

“Not unless Donny is called.” The man, oblivious to your dawning anguish, muttered from somewhere to your right. Though you knew that ultimately that you were never going to find a way out of the fields and that even thinking about it would only cause misery, that moment when your feeble hope died you were sure your heart had stopped altogether. This was your eternity now, to barely be alive when drowned in yellow. Nothing to run for, nothing to fight towards. Listlessly you feel your body regain itself, standing tall at the edge of everything. If this was all there is, then what are you scared for?

“Donny can stay at the barn again. Boy will be here soon. Stay. Sleep and I will come back.” You heard the man shuffle to leave and before you could even think you shouted at him.

“Wait!” The world shook in the wake of your outburst, such volumes never being reached in this sea of feigned tranquility. “Wait please.” You exhale, finally feeling the full weight of the fear you had tried so fiercely to run away from, settle mercilessly upon your chest. “I know you.” With your eyes looking at the ground, you turn your head over your shoulder towards the man. “I know you so there is no need to hide anymore. If I am to be stuck here with you, I want to see your face. And know your name.” He did not respond right away, a part of you suspecting that he had simply left before you had even asked your question, unaware of everything. But you could still hear his breathing, coming now in hollow gasps. 

“No one likes my face.” He answered, voice surprisingly dangerous and bitter. You did not shy away from him however, did not give into the rising uneasiness of the mood. 

“But I already know you. And I don't remember not liking it.” That was a blatant lie and you wished that he could not see through it. There was a growl.

“No! No! No one likes my face!” He was shouting, angry words springing forth from the same person who was so soft spoken just moments before. You turn more of your attention to him, your eyes still lowered allowing yourself one last opportunity to back down. You did not. There was nothing for you to go to if you backed off now.

“Please.” You knew he could not resist your request when you presented it in such a placid manner. There was a shout, an explosion of noise and violence and you jumped at its severity. You heard the rush of footsteps leap out from the field as a shadow loomed itself over you.

“Look! Look Donny! Look at Max and laugh at him!” He was right behind you, his hot breath bursting against your neck in towering waves. Without giving yourself the chance to consider anything, you spun around and came face to face with the fuming dog, his teeth bared.

At the sight of him, your knees went weak and the floor beneath you fell away. You wanted to scream, to run away, to give in to horror and fear and go hysterical and wild. He was hideous, truly monstrous and hardly even a man at all. It was flesh at war, torrents of skin fighting itself as it connected head to neck and neck to torso. Beneath that storm was a face pushing through, with a mouth wide, teeth crooked and eyes like fiery pinpricks in the dark. He was awful to look at yet your eyes could not be torn away. He stole from you your sanity with nothing but the mere look of his being alone. 

Though your mind clouded with uncontrollable panic and fear, you could still recognize the man, his face unforgettable. It was him alright, no more denying it, no more pushing it away. You had known it was him from that very first encounter yet foolishly you had rejected everything, ignoring every piece of awful evidence that had sat itself right in front of your nose, all in favor of self desires. You wanted him to be someone else. You needed this strange man to be a good person whom you could hold on to, you could reach out for. But as the cruelest twist of fate, he was the complete opposite.

It was the Hillbilly - the monster who hunted you and the others with that wicked chainsaw of his. Nothing but a beast made of only the poorly defined form of man, a shape with no purpose other than to kill. You knew it was him from the moment you heard him behind you, breathing like that roaring engine he always did. You never forget the sound of the dog trying to kill you. You had been weak, allowing him to get close enough to you to practically have his bloody hands wrapped around your throat. 

You wanted to run, to flee and try to live just that little bit longer - give your body and soul over to inherent prey instinct. But as you looked into those blazing, hateful eyes framed by grotesque threads of dirty skin, you found that all you could do was wait. It was like facing off against an oncoming train, reckless and unstoppable coming at you at full-speed fuming with noxious smoke. You had seen this movie before and knew how the story ended - he would kill you and leave your body for the rats. 

Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leap out of its path but something stronger and more persistent held you tightly in place. He was not moving so why should you? He was not attacking so why should you run? He was talking so why should you not listen? Once again you clung to the belief that if this man was able to talk and reason then there was something human inside him, something that could be grasped and felt. Regardless of all logic and reason you sought that something and waited for him to offer you another chance to try to dig it out of him. If this was the end, then you would not die with your back turned.

“Hello Max.” You said, your voice a quiet light in the gloomy atmosphere. You saw him visibly retract at your calmness, his eyes darting around your whole body in search of something, anything that would indicate malcontent. “It's nice to meet you.” His stupor lasted only a second longer before he roared and lunged forward, hand twitching around the handle of his chainsaw.

“Donny always laughs! Donny is always scared!” He reeled his head back violently, stretching up into his full, powerful height. You sank into his shadow but did not waver in your stance. Come rain or ruin, you could not find the effort to move your feet even an inch. “Everyone is meant to be laughing at Max! Everyone is meant to be scared!” He brought his attention back down to you and you shuddered under his glare, trying beyond anything not to flinch in his presence. “Donny is always scared!” 

You waited a moment, allowing for his fuming words to cool and settle in the night air before answering with yours. “Donny is scared. They are terrified.” Max tilted his chin inwards to his chest, looking as if preparing to attack, a deep gnarl resonating forth from somewhere in that twisted body. “But not of you, Max. Donny is scared of your anger. Of your…” Your eyes drift to the chainsaw clenched tightly in his hand. Max’s own attention followed yours and for an instant you saw him relent his hold on the weapon. He shot his head back to you, had he had eyebrows they would have been furrowed with muddled anger. 

“Donny lies! You lie! You laugh!”

“But Donny is not.” You retorted, your tone never raising above a mellow reassurance. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the blackness offer you strength as your confidence crumbled. You opened them again and, with a slow, soothing exhale, let your lips extend into the faintest of smiles. You gave him everything in that moment, putting forward all compassion and comfort you could muster into your eyes and smile for him to consume and judge. “I am not lying. And I am not laughing at you Max.” This earned a slack-jawed, wide-eyed expression from the man, his emotions, though messy under his tangled flesh, portraying clearly on his face. He was completely and utterly astonished. 

You watched as he took in your coolness, sucking from you all the serene and hushed energy you had given. He shuts his eyes, slamming his jaw closed and shaking his head vigorously as if trying to shake something loose. He roared again, a most horrible sound that carried for miles in every direction across the field, making the corn around you shake from the sheer magnitude of his power. He raised his empty hand and started pounding his fist into his ear, screaming louder and harder with each contact. You were startled by his reaction and by the way he jumped so quickly from seeking your comfort to out-right rage. Without thinking you step closer to him, a hesitant hand lifting to reach for him. 

Suddenly he jumped forward at you, coming so close that you can feel the heat of his anger eminent off his heaving chest. He stands over you, his fist, with knuckles gone white from stress, moves dangerously closer to your face and hovers there as if debating whether to choke you or not. You subconsciously gulp and take in your final breath, sure that this was the last moments of your pitiful life. You look up at him, his eyes bursting with something between uncontrollable hatefulness and a desperate pity. He tightens his fist and it shakes from the sheer force.

“Donny stays in the barn. Stays in the pen. Until Boy is gone.” His words were more rough, coming from behind gritted teeth. You nod up at him.

“Of course.” Max runs his eyes once more over you body, scanning every corner of your face for anything that he could use to call your bluff but finds nothing. With one final snarl he pulled himself away and disappeared into the corn, leaving behind no reminisce of himself to prove that all that happened was real. In the silence that filled the gap he had left you felt the universe cave in. Conflicting voices erupted in your head, your trembling legs buckling under your body weight. You felt cold and despondent, eyes lingering on the spot where he departed. While your mind wanted to stay and think, to mull over everything until you had worked yourself into a vile panic attack, exhaustion beckoned and you submissively and gratefully followed. Walking inside the barn you find your hay pile and within minutes you were floating away to the safe land of earth and nature. 

[trashyswitch]

The Angel By His Side

Agarus and Virgil are best friends. One day while they're hanging out, Virgil grows curious of Agarus's wings and not only discovers Agarus is ticklish, but also unlocks some more of Agarus's puppy-like behaviour!

Agarus Lershal is an OC that belongs to @agarus-fallen-lershal. I hope I wrote the character right! And of course, I hope you like it!

Agarus and Virgil have been best friends for a long while. Despite the many differences between the two, Virgil and Agarus got along really well. They were both somewhat shy individuals who struggled in the social department. They both loved halloween, they both loved listening to music, they both enjoyed dressing up in darker outfits (Though, Agarus will go for a brighter palette sometimes) and both adults enjoyed being in comfort clothing most often. Though, there were some differences between the two. Specifically, where they came from.

Virgil was the anxious side of Thomas sanders, who lived his days in the mind palace or in the living room helping Thomas. Agarus was a fallen angel who was brought to earth. They soon got used to the earthly values, and still loved to fly around better than walk. Funnily enough, Agarus can recall a time when Virgil downright told them: “Whoa, you’re part bat? Cool.” Agarus found that assumption to be hilarious, and let the man know that they weren’t a bat.

“Hey Agarus. You okay?” Virgil asked.

Agarus left their thoughts. “Yeah, I’m alright.” Agarus replied. “Why?” They asked back.

“You...seem lost in thought.” Virgil explained.

Agarus nodded in understanding. “Yeah...I was.” Agarus admitted. “But I’m completely down to earth now.” Agarus added.

Virgil snickered. “Really? I thought you were still in heaven?” Virgil joked.

“Hey!” Agarus yelled with a smirk, pushing him down and making him giggle.

Agarus went back to their drawing while Virgil continued listening to music. Virgil didn’t really get much farther into his playlist though, thanks to Agarus’s black wings. The wings were flapping and moving around while Agarus was drawing. Have their wings always moved whenever they were distracted? Or is that a new thing?

Virgil soon got off his bed and walked up to the wings. He started watching the wings curiously as they flapped like a fan. The wings were made out of multi-layered feathers that transitioned from black to bright red near the tips. It was very pretty to see upon multiple glances. The feathery look was always familiar to him. But...did they feel as feathery as they looked? If so, how soft?

Virgil decided to feel Agarus’s wings. What he DIDN’T expect from Agarus, was a guffaw and a snort to come out of their mouth! Virgil quickly retreated his fingers and giggled at the funny reaction. “Yohohou ohokahahay?” Virgil asked.

Agarus grabbed the touched wing and brushed off it with their hand. “What were you doing?” Agarus asked.

“I was just trying to feel your wings! But you can snort?!” Virgil reacted.

Agarus shrunk their body down and hid their face behind their hands and wings. Virgil just found the use of their wings for defense, super ironic in this situation. So, to show this, Virgil poked and scratched the very red tips of the wings.

“EEEEEK!” Agarus squealed, hugging their fists against their chest and flapping their wings as far back as possible.

Virgil just giggled like crazy from this reaction! “Oh my gosh that was so cute!” Virgil reacted.

Agarus grumbled at first, but soon made a smile and blepped at him. Virgil gasped. “You DARE blep to me like that?!” Virgil joked.

Agarus doubled over and fell into a fit of giggles. “Yohohohou’re sohohoho weheheird!” Agarus told him.

“Mm hmm...mhm, okay. So, you think you can get away with being this adorable?” Virgil asked, playing around.

“YYYYES!” Agarus replied proudly.

Virgil quickly jumped onto them and started squeezing their sides. “AAEEEEEEhehehehehe!” Agarus squealed yet again. Agarus started wiggling around letting out tons of squeaky giggles.

“Ooooh! We have ourselves a squeaky little mouse!” Virgil declared.

“Nohohohohoho! Nahahat ahaha mohohohouhuse!” Agarus giggled more.

“Oooooh...Then what ARE you?” Virgil asked, moving his fingers to their belly.

Agarus bursted into a brand new fit of laughter. “Ihihihi’m ahahahaha bahahahahat!” Patton declared happily.

“Oooooh! Another squeaky being. So, you’re a cute little puppy baby bat fly fly baby dog?” Virgil asked.

Agarus just laughed even more at that! “SUHUhuhure!” Agarus replied.

“Ooooooh! Then perhaps my special baby dog likes raspberries?” Virgil suggested.

Agarus’s eyes widened. “RAHASPBERRIHIES?!” They yelled.

“Aaaand here they come!” Virgil teased, leaning down. “In 1...2…” Virgil took in a big breath and blew a big raspberry on their sides!

“eeEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” Agarus squeaked and laughed. “VIHIHIRGIHIHIL!” Agarus yelled.

“Yes, my baby bat fly fly baby dog?” Virgil teased.

Agarus just laughed more! “CAHAHAN YOHOHOHOU-” Agarus paused their words when Virgil blew another raspberry right on their belly! Agarus squealed and laughed somewhat hysterically again! “YAHAHAHAHAY!” Agarus reacted.

Virgil lifted his head up. “Did...did you just openly celebrate being raspberried?” Virgil asked.

Agarus fell into a fit of nervous giggles this time, and covered up their mouth before nodding their head.

Virgil tilted his head to the side curiously. “Why?” He asked.

Agarus looked just about everywhere but Virgil’s face. They had no clue what to really say to him. But thankfully, it didn’t take long for Virgil to catch up on his own.

“Ooooooh…You...you like it, don’t you?” Virgil realized very soon.

Agarus folded their wings in front and covered up their own face even more. Virgil giggled. “You know that covering your face with one of your most ticklish spots just proves my point, right?” Virgil added.

Agarus uncovered one eye and looked at Virgil. Not sure what else to say, Agarus nodded their head.

Virgil smirked excitedly. “Oooooh! This is quite the breakthrough to Agarus’s hidden identity!” Virgil told them! “Do you want more tickles?” Virgil asked.

Agarus uncovered everything and nodded like a super excited dog.

Virgil chuckled. “Okay!” Virgil started skittering his fingers on Agarus’s ribs. “How about your ribs? Do you like your ribs being tickled?” Virgil asked.

Agarus shrieked almost immediately and started laughing and wiggling around under Virgil’s grasp. If it weren’t for the tickle attack they were being succumbed to, Agarus would’ve probably said ‘Yes! I love it! Please keep going!’. But, they were too busy laughing. So, they showed it in their cheerful laughter and their need to lean into the ticklish fingers.

“I’ll happily take that as a yes!” Virgil answered his own question. “Now, what about...HERE?” Virgil started drilling his fingers into Agarus’s hips.

“VIRGILl- NOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHA!” Agarus bursted out laughing, just giving up the small bit of struggle they had left.

“Yes, Agarus?” Virgil replied.

“NAHAHAT MYHYHYHY HIHIHIHIPS!” Agarus yelled back at him.

Virgil let out a long sigh. “Fiiiiine.” He replied before retreating his fingers. “Guess I’m going for your wings then!” Virgil declared bluntly.

“Okay, go- WAITWHAT?!” Agarus snorted and covered their mouth as slightly muffled cackles left their lungs.

Virgil was lightly stretching a wing out and skittering his fingers all over the upper and middle parts of the wing. Agarus flapped their free wing and aggressively kicked their feet as they cackled and snorted uncontrollably. Their wings were a SUPER bad spot on them! So Virgil stretching out their wings and taking advantage of how ticklish they were, was a SUPER BOLD MOVE! HOW DARE HE PULL AN ILLEGAL ACT LIKE THIS!?

Virgil continued to tickle their wings for a while, and mentally took note of the wing spots that tickled more than others. The upper wings and the red tips seemed to be a bad spot that got Agarus wiggling and cackling the most! But the moment Virgil even slightly scratched the inner wing that connected to their back, Agarus SCREAMED! It sounded like it just about killed their vocal cords as well! It was pretty much the human equivalent of an alarm sound that told Virgil to not even ATTEMPT that spot! LEAVE THAT SPOT ALONE!

And leave it, he did! Virgil let go of Agarus’s wings, pulled his hands up in arrest, and quickly caught Agarus as they fell into his arms. “I’m so sorry if I took it too far.” Virgil apologized, scared he may have overdid it.

Agarus was a giggling, snorting mess. Their breathing was super interrupted by giggles and snorts, meaning talking was also temporarily off the list. Virgil did all he could to calm Agarus down. He removed their sweater to reveal their undershirt, he rolled up their pants, he moved their bangs off their forehead and he also gave them some water. Agarus happily took the water and mentally thanked him for trying to cool them down.

But when Virgil was about to stand back up with the empty cup, Agarus grabbed his wrist. Agarus looked up at Virgil in almost desperation and yearning for something. “Yes Agarus?” Virgil replied.

Agarus stretched their hands out to him and opened and closed them. This was Agarus’s childish version of ‘I want cuddles’. Virgil smiled and chuckled at Agarus’s child-like personality, and wrapped his arms around them. Agarus smiled and snuggled themself happily into Virgil’s warm embrace. He’s always nice and warm with his sweater on. That made him automatically comfy to snuggle.

They snuggled for a little while. Virgil laid beside them and kept them from leaving his tight grasp. But Agarus started to crave some more tickles. But not the heavy, breath-taking tickles. Agarus craved some feather-light tickles. Agarus decided to take the feather aspect of the tickles to heart, and plucked a long feather off their own wing. Even though a black feather was missing, Agarus’s wings were so multi-layered that you couldn’t tell that a feather had been plucked from their wings.

Agarus fluttered the feather on Virgil’s cheek to wake him up, and put the feather in his hand. “Hm? What-” Virgil looked down and saw the feather in his hand. “Is this...one of your own?” Virgil asked. Agarus gave a nod in reply, before pointing to their own ears. Virgil smiled as he started to understand the body language. “You want me to tickle your ears with the feather?” Virgil translated out loud. Agarus smiled happily and nodded, even wagging their bone tail to show their eager attitude.

Virgil chuckled to himself and quickly started fluttering the feather around on their ear. Agarus’s mouth quickly widened as giggles left their mouth. They snuggled closer to Virgil and gratefully enjoyed the tickles. Virgil quickly started to enjoy tickling Agarus with the feather. Their cute little giggles, their wide, contagious smile and their flustered face was an absolute treasure to behold.

“Do you realize just how adorable you are?” Virgil asked them. Agarus’s blush filled their face and their nose a little more. But despite how embarrassed they felt, Agarus nodded. “Wow! And you’re happily admitting it?” Virgil reacted. Agarus started giggling more at his reaction. “I think this may be a first! Ladies and gentlemen, an adorable bean who takes compliments! Please give Agarus a hand!” Virgil declared.

Agarus bursted into laughter from that. “Yohohou’re suhuhuch aha dohohork!” Agarus told him.

“Oh? I’m a dork now? Hmm...Maybe I should go for one of your melt spots then.” Virgil suggested.

Virgil moved his hands to their back and started lightly scratching and rubbing their back. Agarus started to smile as they practically melted to the touch. It felt amazing. It was such a nice spot to be tickled on. Agarus’s eyes quickly started to droop from heaviness. It was growing impossible to keep their eyes open while their back was being scratched and massaged.

To make things even better, Virgil moved to the fallen angel’s bone tail. Agarus’s bone tail was a few extra vertebrae that were connected to their spine and narrowed down to a point near the end. The moment the tail was scratched, Agarus practically started purring. The back was a really good spot to go for, but it was nothing compared to their tail. Their tail was the perfect go-to spot for putting the angel to sleep. And boy, did it work.

It didn’t take long at all for Agarus to fall into a deep sleep within Virgil’s grasp. Virgil smiled and watched Agarus sleep for a bit. It was times like these that made their friendship so worthwhile. Seeing the angel sleeping in his arms, was like seeing a baby sleep in his arms. It was so peaceful to watch, that it started to make the holder fall asleep as well.

Soon enough, Virgil’s eyes began to get droopy too. It was hard to fight off the sudden need for sleep. So, Virgil succumbed to it. Virgil fell into a deep sleep with Agarus. But just before he fell into REM sleep, Virgil summoned a thin blanket for the two of them.

[fieryanmitsu]

Operation: No Curry | A3! Week 2020 – Day 3 (Tsumugi/Izumi)

The rest of my A3! Week entries are very late! But here’s my piece for Day 3! It’s just something light and silly this time, but please enjoy~

OPERATION: NO CURRY

PROMPTS: Summer|Dorm Life/Roommates|Confession

CHARACTERS: Tsumugi Tsukioka, Izumi Tachibana, Sakuya Sakuma, Tsuzuru Minagi, Tenma Sumeragi, Banri Settsu, Taichi Nanao, Hisoka Mikage

PAIRINGS: Tsumugi/Izumi

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

“Hot… it’s so hot… I’m going to meeeeelt!!” Taichi lamented from his spot on the floor of the Mankai Company’s lounge. The redhead was already wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt, but sweat still covered his entire body.

“Damn Sakyo! I can’t believe that cheap old man won’t let us turn on the aircon!” Banri growled from his spot at the table, fanning himself desperately with a paper fan. “And I can’t believe I have to use this stupid fan!”

The fan was one of many that Sakyo had asked Sakoda to prepare for them. The kanji for “Simplicity. Frugality. Temperance.” were emblazoned on the plain white fans in Sakoda’s calligraphy. They had only cost 800 yen for a pack of 20, and Sakoda’s labour was free.

“Well… Sakyo did say he would turn it on when it hits 35 degrees at least…” Sakuya replied, looking up from the script he was reading with one hand – the other also limply held a fan. Even the ever-chipper Spring Troupe leader sounded less enthusiastic than usual.

“It’s freakin’ 34 degrees!! We’re only one degree off, but he still won’t turn it on!” Tenma cried, lifting his head up from where he had laid it on the table. After his outburst, he immediately dropped it back on the table, all energy drained out of him. “Banri… fan me too… I can’t move…”

“Maybe we can ask him to count the humidity level… It’s 87% humidity after all… that’s got to count for an extra degree, right?” Sakuya suggested with a chuckle.

“I’m going to dieeeeee, it’s too hooooot!!” Taichi wailed.

“Shut UP, Taichi!! You’re making me feel even hotter!!” Banri snapped.

Suddenly the door to the lounge slammed open and Tsuzuru practically collapsed into the lounge.

“It’s an emergency!” the older boy exclaimed, his face pale and dripping with sweat.

“Tsuzuru?! What happened?”

“The director… I just saw her walking back from grocery shopping with Tsumugi. And I overheard that… that… that she’s making extra spicy curry for dinner tonight!!”

The lounge was silent for a moment as the gravity of what Tsuzuru just uttered sank in. Then, the room immediately erupted into a flurry of panicked voices.

“E-extra spicy curry?!”

“GYAAAAH!! It’s too hot for curry!!”

“IS SHE FREAKIN’ CRAZY?!”

“NOOOOOO! We’re going to dieeeeee!”

“GUYS! Pull it together. We just… we have to stop her!” Tsuzuru interrupted, hauling himself back onto his feet.

“How do we do that?!” Taichi moaned.

“Don’t panic! I have a plan!” Banri replied, his brain already churning. “Taichi! Go get Omi! Make him take over dinner duty to make something normal to eat! Sakuya, you and Tenma intercept the director and distract her while she’s putting away the groceries. Make sure she doesn’t start prepping those ingredients! Tsuzuru, you’re with me! ‘Operation: No Curry’ officially starts right now!”

“You’re the boss, boss!” Taichi responded, jumping to his feet with a salute. Despite having been glued to the floor in exhaustion mere moments ago, it was as if the thought of eating hot and spicy curry in the heat had shot energy through his veins. A second later, he was dashing out of the lounge to hunt down his roommate.  

Almost immediately afterwards, Izumi and Tsumugi walked through the door, hands weighed down with numerous shopping bags.

“We’re back!”

“D-Director! Let us help you with those groceries!!” Tenma exclaimed, scrambling off his chair.

“You should sit down, Izumi! You must be tired!” Sakuya said, taking the grocery bags from her arms and passing them to Tenma.

“H-Huh? Oh, you don’t have to do that—Whoa!” Izumi started to protest, but a moment later, Sakuya had already forcibly pushed her to sit down on the couch.

“TSUMUGI! We need to talk to you!!” Banri jumped in immediately.

“Th-That’s right! It’s urgent!” Tsuzuru added, taking his cue from Banri. He took the bags from Tsumugi and dropped them on the table before joining the Autumn Troupe leader in pushing Tsumugi into the hallway.

“W-Wait, what’s wrong, you two?!” Tsumugi exclaimed in confusion as the two younger boys jostled him out of the lounge.

As soon as they were in the hallway, Banri and Tsuzuru cornered Tsumugi against the wall.

“Tsumugi…” Banri’s voice lowered as he stared intently at the older man. “How could you betray us?”

“B-Betray?” Tsumugi gasped, looking back at Banri with wide eyes.

“You went grocery shopping with the director. It was your duty to stop her from buying ingredients for curry,” Tsuzuru added in an equally grave voice.

“Huh? Is this what this is about?” Tsumugi said with a chuckle.

“This is no laughing matter! It’s so DAMN hot!! How could you let her make curry for us in this heat?!” Banri responded, shaking Tsumugi by the shoulders.

“Ahaha, er, well, she was really gung ho about it. Saying how the best way to beat the heat was to overpower it with more heat. Something about sweating would cool your skin off?”

“We’ll die, Tsumugi. If we have to eat extra spicy curry in this heat, we’ll literally die,” Tsuzuru responded bluntly, his eyes already looking half-dead.

“Look, Hisoka’s already dead from the heat – we’ll be next,” Banri stated, suddenly pointing down the hallway. Sure enough, Hisoka was splayed out face down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

“H-Hisoka?! Maybe we should check on him?!”

“No, we’ll take care of him later. You have something more important to do,” Tsuzuru replied, waving his hand casually.

“I do?!”

“You need to get Izumi out of the dorms so that she can’t cook dinner,” Banri responded. “We need her far and away from here. Distract her for the next two or three hours while we get Omi to cook instead. He isn’t a curry freak and will make us something normal to eat.”

“But, why me? I’m actually fine with eating curry—”

“No, it’s your responsibility. You have to atone for your crime.”

“What crime?!”

“Let’s go!”

And in another whirlwind of limbs, Tsumugi was suddenly shoved back into the lounge and pushed in front of Izumi, still seated on the couch where Sakuya and Tenma were bombarding her with (fake) questions about the script in Sakuya’s hands.

“Izumi!” Tsuzuru hollered.

“Tsumugi has something to tell you!” Banri announced, clapping Tsumugi on the shoulder with an iron grip.

“Hmm? What is it, Tsumugi?”

“Uh… Umm… I… I…” Tsumugi stuttered – what exactly was he supposed to say?!

His eyes flickered from Izumi’s face to Tenma’s, and then Sakuya’s, and then landed on a magazine on the coffee table before them. Flustered, Tsumugi snatched up the magazine and pointed to the cover without really reading it.

“Th-This! I-I need to go here. With you. Right now!”

Everyone froze as they all stared at the front of the magazine. It was a bridal magazine, probably Yuki’s for costume design inspiration if the bear-shaped sticky notes sticking out of the pages indicated anything. The front-page splash was a photograph of a church with bright and bold words written across that read: ‘Top 10 Churches in Tokyo to Hold your Summer Wedding!’

No one seemed to know what to say. A cold bead of sweat dripped down the back of Tsumugi’s neck. Finally, after what felt like ages, Tsuzuru was the first to recover.

“Th-That’s right! This is for that… that guest performance that you have tomorrow right, Tsumugi? You were telling me about how you had to play a groom!”

“Y-Yes! I… I just realized that it would be good to get in some last minute practice! I figure this would really immerse me in the role – being at an actual church!” Tsumugi ad-libbed, working off of Tsuzuru’s line.

“H-Huh? B-but why do you need me there?” Izumi asked, stunned.

“Well, it would be better to practice with an opposing actor, wouldn’t it?” Banri replied.

“In that case, I should definitely not go with you – you know I can’t act,” Izumi dismissed breezily. “If Tsumugi needs someone to practice with, why don’t one of you go? It’ll be good practice in case any of you play a female role in the future! Anyway, I need to get started on dinner—”

Banri suddenly elbowed Tsumugi in the ribs and the older man, literally spurred into action, fell to his knees and grabbed Izumi’s hands in his own. Suddenly, it looked like a switch had been turned on, and his expression changed completely.

“No, it has to be you, Izumi,” Tsumugi said softly, his face serious and intense. His hands grasped hers tighter, gently drawing them closer to his chest, and he leaned his upper body closer towards her. “I want to make my practice as realistic as possible – to be as immersed in the scenario as much as I can. I could only do that with you as my practice partner. As my bride. After all… you’re the one I love, Izumi.”

For the third time within the past ten minutes, the entire room fell silent. They had all unconsciously been drawn into Tsumugi’s performance, and his sudden confession had been so heartfelt that every one of them had stopped breathing. Izumi could only stare back at Tsumugi with a slack jaw, wide eyes and bright red cheeks.

“Won’t you come with me, Izumi? Won’t you be my bride?” Tsumugi asked softly, one hand reaching up to cup her cheek tenderly and his eyes looking up at her imploringly.

“O-Okay,” Izumi answered, half out of shock.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me, Izumi! Let’s go then – the boys will take care of dinner,” Tsumugi replied with a wide, toothy grin.

He gently tugged Izumi to her feet, intertwined their fingers and swiftly led her out of the lounge by the hand. As the door closed behind them, the remaining actors could only look at each other in disbelief.

“Tsumugi… He was acting just now, right?” Sakuya asked.

“Wow, he seriously is a pro when it comes to those subtle emotions – He hooked me right in…” Tenma responded with a shake of his head.

“No kidding… But, well, that’s that! Let’s go check on Taichi and Omi and get this non-curry dinner started! I’d say ‘Operation: No Curry’ is a grand success,” Tsuzuru added, clapping his hands together.

“Of course it was a success – I was the one who came up with it, after all,” Banri boasted, already heading towards the dorms.

“Hey! Somen! I want somen! Do you think Omi would make somen tonight?!” Tenma exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh yeah, someone needs to go check on Hisoka… I think he’s still sleeping in the hallway,” Banri remarked, suddenly remembering the older man.

“Uh, I hope he’s just sleeping…” Tsuzuru muttered, causing Sakuya to whip his head to look at him in alarm.

“Wait, what?! What happened to Hisoka?!”

Outside of the Mankai Company, Tsumugi led the still-dumbstruck Izumi up a side street, distinctly aware of the feeling of her hand held tight in his. They proceeded in silence for a few minutes until they arrived at a nearby park, where Tsumugi finally slowed down their steps.

“Izumi, let’s take a quick break here,” he said, sitting her onto a bench under the shade of a nearby tree.  

“Oh! Ah, sure, sounds good,” Izumi responded, finally recovered from her stupor.

“I’ll be right back!” Tsumugi said, before he quickly jogged over to a vending machine. Pulling out his wallet, he counted out a few hundred yen and bought a bottle of cold green tea. Returning to Izumi, he suddenly dipped himself into a bow and proffered the bottle to her.

“I’m sorry, Izumi! I tricked you just now! I don’t have any guest performances tomorrow – I don’t need to practice anything! Please accept this drink as an apology!”

Izumi stared owlishly at the drink floating in front of her face. A moment later, after Tsumugi’s words sunk in, she let out a laugh.

“Oh man, you really surprised me earlier! We had just been together too, and you didn’t mention anything about a guest performance, so I was so shocked when you came out of nowhere and said all of that!” she replied, taking the drink out of his hands. “And, of course you’re forgiven – though there’s nothing to forgive, really. But, why did you trick me anyway?”

“Ahaha… Well, I’m sure it’s obvious in hindsight, but Banri and Tsuzuru asked me to do it. Er, well, maybe that’s not quite right. Rather they asked me to distract you and get you out of the dorms,” he responded sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“Huh? Why did they want you to do that?”

“Errr, something about wanting to make dinner… or something,” he responded evasively, his eyes glancing away briefly before returning to her face and crinkling into a mischievous smile. “But, well, since we’re already out here, why don’t we honour their wishes and go enjoy ourselves for a bit? We could go somewhere with aircon, since we don’t have it on at home.”

“Oooh, that’s actually a great idea! Let’s go to the shopping mall, then! I haven’t had a chance to browse around for a while!” she replied.

“That sounds good to me,” Tsumugi agreed, falling into step beside her as they started walking again. They were only a few inches apart, and Tsumugi felt his hand twitch, wanting to reach across the short distance to grab a hold of hers again.

“But you know… you never cease to impress me with your acting, Tsumugi,” Izumi said suddenly, turning her head to give him a smile.

“Oh?” Tsumugi prompted. He could feel his heart rate quickening.

“When you grabbed my hands and confessed that you loved me… I couldn’t tell you were acting at all – it felt so real. You seriously made my heart beat so fast! My face felt like it was on fire! I’m so embarrassed!” Izumi responded, looking away shyly. She held the bottle of tea up to her face, trying to cool off her flushed cheeks.

“Ah, that’s probably because I wasn’t acting…” Tsumugi muttered quietly, half hoping that the woman next to him heard.

A second passed by without a response. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Izumi continued to walk without having missed a step – still smiling normally as she held the bottle to her cheek – and he knew that his words had been drowned out by the call of the cicadas.

This ended on a much more wistful note than I had intended, haha. But, maybe that’s just how it was meant to go since I was working with Tsumugi! Precious Tsumugi is my second favourite A3! boy, so I’m happy to write something where he gets a bit more of the spotlight! I also had a lot of fun writing the silly, overdramatic Mankai teenagers (and poor Tsumugi who got roped in), so hopefully you all had fun reading!

A3! Week 2020 is almost over at this point, but I will still be putting out content for the rest of the prompts that I haven’t gotten to yet! Please stay tuned if you’re interested, and likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you~

-Anmitsu

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Brad Beams Character story - part 2

Translation of the second part of Brad’s character story from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.  

Will: You all bloomed beautifully. Thanks to everyone it feels like the atmosphere in the living room has gotten more cheerful than before. 

Brad: Will, huh.

Will: !! Brad-san, good morning…!

Brad: Morning. Thought I heard your voice, were you talking to the flowers

Will: Ahaha, I’m sorry… Talking to plants while watering them is a habit I got from while I stayed at my parents home

Brad: No need to apologize. It is said that plants will grow better if you talk to them. 

Will: You’re also familiar with it?

Will: But it’s true. Telling plants that they’re lovely really makes them bloom pretty flowers, it’s cute right.

Brad: ….Of course

Will: Ah…. U- um…. Do you have a day off today, Brad-san? Being here around this time is a bit unusual for you?

Brad: I came back to quickly grab lunch since I had a bit of free time. I have to leave pretty soon

Will: I see….

Will: Ah, as for Oscar he went to the gym. Akira wanted him to come along and had asked him. 

Will: That Akira, every time there’s an opportunity he challenges Oscar-san to a competition. Not only about training, but who’s faster at eating food, or taking a bath….

Brad: I heard it from Oscar

Will: R-right. Sorry, I said too much...

Brad: You didn’t go with them then

Will: Eh? Ah yeah, I was taking care of the plants… I am a bit worried if Akira will cause any trouble however. 

Brad: ….

Will: Um…… sorry. I’m, going to fill up the spraying bottle with water

Brad: (I made him uncomfortable huh…)

Brad: (I have some advice I want to give, but it’d be better to prioritize communication.)

Brad: (Well, now lunch comes first---)

Brad: What is this?

Brad: ….Japanese confectionery?

Will: Ah… That’s the ‘Nerikiri’ I bought. 

Will: There’s this confectionery store I often go to in Little Tokyo…. The one called Akabeko Temple.

Brad: Akabeko Temple, huh. It’s right over the Sushi bar, bit of a stylish store

Will: Eh, you know about it!?

Brad: Compared to other areas the businesses don’t come and go as much. I remember most of them.

Will: Then, you’ve also been to Little Tokyo before?

Brad: Yeah, quite frequent. Although the reason is mostly to go eat sushi

Will: Sushi...

Will: I thought you’re not really into eating food since you’re always having things like protein bars

Brad: Aah, Oscar’s the one that enjoys these. I only eat them when I don’t have the time 

Will: That’s how it is… So Brad-san also has a favourite food 

Brad: And you enjoy Japanese confectionery.

Brad: That reminds me, sometimes you speak of Japanese proverbs… Are you interested in Japanese culture? 

Will: Uwah, did I let it show? That’s a bit embarrassing… 

Will: It’s because I had memorized the books at Akira’s house by heart a long time ago. He’s of Japanese descent so they had many of these kinds of books.

Will: Akira totally wasn’t interested in them but, whenever I was over I’d get lost in reading for hours

Will: Uuh… I’m thinking of it but, I’m sure I only said these in front of Akira or Ren though?

Brad: Well, it’s rather that you had said something in front of Oscar. Right... ‘’A gourd being washed away by the river‘’ wasn’t it. 

Will: !! I-I don’t know if I recall using it… We were talking about Akira that time...

Brad: Oscar had asked seriously what a gourd is, and how it would even be washed away by a river.

Will: S-sorry. I didn’t mean to trouble him...

Brad: Don’t worry. I’ve given him my dictionary of proverbs and told him to look it up himself next time. 

Will: A dictionary of proverbs? 

Brad: I’m also someone that is interested in Japanese culture. I have several books about language, food, traditional art, religion and so on. 

Will: Heeh, how fascinating! Just like the ones at Akira’s house.... 

Brad: It's fine to rummage through the books in my room if you’d like to

Will: Eh? Indulging myself like that…  

Brad: Don’t worry too much, there’s nothing in there that would cause trouble if you’d find it. 

Brad: Although, I’ve been planning to transfer some books to the bookshelf in the living room to let you rookies read. 

Will: Is that so? Then… Next time, I’ll take up on your offer. 

Will: Fufu, reading books is important, right. I wonder if I could encourage Akira to also do some reading instead of only moving around. 

Brad: …..

Brad: ‘’Even with parents, children grow up’’, are you familiar with these words

Will: ? I’ve heard that before but… isn’t it ‘’Even without parents, children grow up’’?

Brad: That one is used the most when it comes to proverbs. The one I said was a remark by a certain Japanese writer as an ironic statement. 

Brad: Without parents children grow up, but even with parents they grow up. It implies that parents are something that merely exist. 

Will: You read Japanese novels, Brad-san? Amazing… I can’t even imagine being able to go that far myself. 

Will: But, why did you tell me that? 

Brad: There’s no particular reason. It’s just a bit… it feels as if you’re overdoing with how much affection you’re giving to the plants. 

Brad: Because you’re telling the plants how beautiful they are while they’re growing, it doesn’t necessarily mean they will grow up beautiful

Brad: That stress of calling out to them, being near them and touching them merely stimulates the secretion of hormones. 

Will: Eeh…..

Brad: Said from an academic point of view, that is

Brad: I’ve heard that your parents have a flower shop, it’s important to value the teachings of your mother too. 

Will: That kind of view made the scales fall from my eyes….

Will: It’s true that I’ve been doing as my parents have taught me, but I was convinced that the plants were happier like this...

Will: I’ve read books that specialize in this, but maybe I should start from scratch? Wait, but now I’m under rookie training… 

Brad: Think carefully with your own head of what would be best to do.  

Will: Um… Thank you very much for the advice, Brad-san.

Brad: It was nothing of the sort. Just a normal everyday conversation. 

Brad: Although training the rookies has been left in Oscar’s hands to take care of, the lack of communication isn’t desirable. There’s ‘’realization’’ even from this kind of trivial conversation. 

Will: That’s right… Brad-san being knowledgeable in Japanese culture, or how sushi is your favourite… I wouldn’t have known a thing if we hadn’t talked like this.

Will: I’m always hearing from Oscar-san how you’re excellent as a not only a hero but as a person too but…. Because there weren’t any opportunities to talk, it didn’t really click for me. 

Will: Eh... um, s-sorry! I blurted out something inexcusable but, it wasn’t my intention to imply that you aren’t excellent…. 

Brad: Aah, I understand.

Brad: Continue to make the most of that honest mentality of yours and keep up the hard work from now on too. 

Will: !! Y-yes…!

-

Notes + cool factz:

They’re talking about sweets at some point, but specifically the Japanese ones ‘和菓子’ (わがし, wagashi). ‘Nerikiri’ is a type of wagashi that reflects the season it’s being served in, made out of bean paste (anko).

For the confectionery store, it’s ‘赤べこ堂’. Akabeko (赤べこ) is a traditional Japanese red cow toy. 堂 (どう, dou) can be either interpret as ‘temple, shrine’ or ‘hall’. I opted for the temple since it sounds more marketable for a store. 

The proverb was ‘’瓢箪の川流れ’’ (hyoutan no kawaganare), I couldn’t find any translations for it so this is what I attempted. There’s one that sounds familiar to some extent (kappa no kawaganare), but it’s rather about how everyone makes mistakes.

The ‘’certain Japanese writer’’ Brad mentioned is Sakaguchi Ango, postwar era writer. The ironic statement was mentioned in ‘’Furyo Shonen to Christ’’ (lit. ‘’The Bad Boy and Christ’’), a book criticzing Osamu Dazai’s suicide. He goes on a tangent about parents and their influence of raising children, and ends it with a note on ‘’Without parents, children grow up even more splendidly’’. I wanted to throw this is in since I do be enjoying that classic Japanese literature myself xoxo

Navigation:

Part 1 / Part 2 (current) / Part 3

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #164

Hey, not dropping the ball actually worked!

We’re just a hair’s length away from summer vacation, but unlike last year when Tomoko approached summer with not much consideration, she’s now taking a proactive role in deciding how to spend her last summer in high school. At first glance, Tomoko appears to have become a responsible, young lady. But as we soon will see, that can-do attitude may not be as refined as it looks on the surface.

Chapter 164: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Do My Best Starting From Summer Break 

There’s that time period during the day when most students have already left but school hasn't quite closed up. It’s pretty creepy, even more so before summer break when you’re expected not to stick around.

Have I mentioned Itou is a cute? ‘Cause she is.

It’s usually her looking after Komiyama, so it’s really sweet to see the dynamic flipped around like this. Despite, well, everything, Komiyama is a good friend.

Assuming that cheering for the baseball teams is optional, it’s endearing to see Itou go through with it. Even though baseball isn’t her thing, she’s likely doing it to support her bestie, which I can 110% get behind.

Ah, right. Dude’s in the manga club. That said, I wonder if their plans are for just being attendees, or if they’ll actually be manning a booth and selling their work. With his skills and, er, preferences, I think Hatsushiba could do the latter.

Don’t be so modest, Tomoko. There’s no slouching either when you’re a three-year veteran of the Going-Home Club. 

Studying during summer break? Outrageous!!

It’s intriguing to see just how Tomoko’s study habits have evolved throughout the series. The early days would see her spend summer goofing off on her hobbies, with bare minimum concern for academics. But now, Tomoko is actually considering studying on her own accord. Sure, it’s more-or-less a fallback when she has nothing else planned, but the thought itself is still worth mentioning.

Is that one of those mini-fans that you can carry around in your bag? I love those things.

Study camp, huh? Any other day, Tomoko would be apathetic to the idea, leaning more on the side of brushing it off. But having Katou bring it up makes all the difference, ‘cause let’s be real. Katou could ask her to sign up for a hostess bar at the Red Light District and Tomoko would still seriously consider it.

Miss you, Yuu-chan.

I second that, Komi. Fourteen hours of studying a day is brutal, even if that’s to be expected in what is essentially a boot camp. I’ve always questioned the efficiency of cram schools and the like, mostly because they seem to prepare more for short-term memorization than long-term understanding. But even it actually works in principle...

...I’m not sure Tomoko will be able to handle it.

Perhaps it’s just me, but it feels like Tomoko is overestimating her discipline for studying. She already struggled with Katou’s flashcards and study sessions that a whole training camp feels like it would have a more detrimental effect on Tomoko than a positive one. “Work hard, play hard” was never meant to be that extreme, Tomoko.

That’s...genuinely uplighting. Tomoko has missed out on several of the key “memorable” high school moments, and she usually lets it go with only mild regrets. But here, Tomoko’s actively trying to gain what she once lost. Sure, she’s trying to “game the social system” a little, but what did you expect? She’s a person, not a saint.

This was Yuu’s only line in this entire chapter. My girl deserves more than this.

Will the 2% of Tomoko’s personality that is tsundere ever realize that if you really “didn’t care either way”, then you wouldn’t have asked the question to begin with? Doubt it.  

That romaji tho.

It comes to the surprise of absolutely no one that Komiyama has some pretty...vivid fantasies about Tomoki. But what stands out to me is how deep into the relationship her thoughts go. Most people fantasize about their crush first in their sexual attractiveness, but only a few ever dream beyond that. Ironically, you know your crushing has gone off the deep end if you start thinking about them in domestic, SFW ways. Least Komi’s committed, yeah?

Gee, I wonder what’s that “and stuff” Tomoko’s talking about?masturbating

Nothing like a fresh bowl of Grossi-Os and Gross Juice to start the day!

If what Yuri says is true, then that would mean that she and Ucchi have probably walked to school together several times before–more than the couple of times we’ve seen, at least. And even so, it doesn’t look like they haven’t gotten much closer as friends, if at all. Some people just don’t click, I suppose.

Not sure how blind Ucchi is because anybody with a pair of eyes (beady or not) would see that Yuri has friends, even if you only count Mako. Poor girl just can’t accept the truth even when it's right in front of her face.

Ah, Yuri. Why can’t you just drop the “savior” act and just admit you want to spend time with her?

I’m inclined to agree about Yoshida, but who knows? She’s surprised us before. Mako's a safe bet, though. Especially if the former’s going. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Boy, does that take me back. It still blows my mind that all of Ucchi’s problems originated from one night of misunderstandings. The art nerd in me really appreciates the subtle improvement in Niko’s art style. The character models feel “weightier” and more consistent without compromising the stylization. 

You don’t see it in the previous panel, but Ucchi was totally blushing at the prospect of reliving her trauma/dream. Perhaps she was also looking to live out that ping pong match she never got.

I’m not sure if there was some kind of wordplay in the original text. Either way, it kind of sucks for Yuu-chan that she got such a “flattering” nickname when she wasn’t involved in that scenario whatsoever. Though it sure is a tad classier than Miss Akari “Dick Sister Jr.’ Iguchi.

It’s kind of (read: absolutely) frightening how Katou’s envy towards Yuu feels a lot more intense than Yuri’s. Perhaps it’s because Yuri’s so transparent that you know how to deal with her. But with Katou, that air of secrecy feels like a nuclear bomb about to go off. 

I always wondered where girls picked up that thing where they intertwine their fingers as a sign of affection. It’s precious.

Praise modern technology for convenient storytelling.

Wow, Fuuka’s already made her mark on Tomoko’s “bitch” list. Though exactly why she’s on that list now is kind of odd. I mean, yeah, she asked Tomoko about the whole fondling thing, and she unintentionally presented herself as a pervert for the whole “hair” thing, but Fuuka hasn’t really done anything all that terrible. If anything, Tomoko is probably expressing a rare bit of jealousy towards someone else supposedly perving on Katou besides her.

The most striking part about Fuuka’s inevitably failed plan is that she describes Tomoko’s appearance as “sudden”. It was touched on before, but it further emphasizes that Tomoko’s friendship with Katou was just as unexpectedly quick in-universe as it was for the readers. And in doing so, it brings us one step closer to the real mystery over why Katou is so enamored with Tomoko in the first place. 

Ya’ll know Sayaka’s got her homegirl’s back on this one. Let’s see (hopefully) how Akari screws it up. 

Chapter 58, mothereffers!

I don’t know whether I’d say Nico Tanigawa has been playing the long game, or if they just found a convenient throwaway to capitalize on. But the acknowledgment itself is very much appreciated. Tomoko may have forgotten, naturally, but us overzealous fans certainly never did! 

The chills, man. Chill’s right up the spine.

It’s certainly true that Tomoko’s words can be interpreted in a good or bad way, so it’s pretty telling that Katou’s gut reaction went for the latter. It suggests that Katou may actually have some insecurities that can easily set her off. Then again, a defining part of Katou’s personality is that she takes everything Tomoko says at completely face value, so maybe she’s starting to see Tomoko’s negativity even if it’s not there. Just more of the enigma that is Asuka Katou.  

Not a bad save, Tomoko. Countless battles with shame have made her quick on the fly. Unfortunately, while she’s improved at starting a save...

...she still doesn’t know how to end it.

It would’ve been a clean getaway if Tomoko had just ended about half-way in the above panel. But because Tomoko’s anxiety causes her to try and cover all the bases, she ends up rambling suspiciously. The part about Nemo isn’t even that relevant, but in her burst of defensiveness, Tomoko ends up saying things that could just exacerbate the problem even further.

Fucking shit, Katou is damn scary.

The one fortunate thing about Tomoko’s defensive rambles is that once she starts to cool down, her honesty starts coming out more organically. Self-deprecation becomes self-reflection, and brings to the forefront Tomoko’s endearing side.

Only Tomoko could spout such a cliché moe line and sound so pure of heart. Must be the irony. 

Aha. Ahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

–that totally didn’t happen.

Tomoko, girl, you’re in the CLEAR! Stop trying to fan flames that have already been put out.

But on that note, it does affirm that while Tomoko is honest with Katou about certain things (perversion, laziness), she isn’t quite ready to be honest on anything that would paint Katou in a bad light. I’d say tha’st about 85% due to fear.

Death Flags raised all around.

I had a feeling that Nemo would take the plunge this time and invite Tomoko out somewhere during the summer. It seems like such an insignificant gesture, but considering that this is the very first time a classmate has asked to hang out with her during the summer, it warms my heart.

Hey now, Tomoko. Don’t get cocky when you’re maximizing your own goof-off time by taking a study camp.

The easy guess is that Nemo wants to go to Comiket. But really, it could be anything that Tomoko would have an interest in. And because it’s implied that Nemo is going for research purposes, it could be anything from a seiyuu panel (the last one went so well) to a hot spring to a hentai game company. Hope they bring Okada along...

Mama senses her daughter’s giving in to peer pressure.

Not gonna lie. This hand gesturing from Rena made me think that she was thinking about doing...something else.

Damn mind-in-the-gutter.

Even though Anna doesn’t appear to be the studious type, it’s pretty cool to see that she can respect people who are. Also, I dig the way she wears her tie (or is that a ribbon?). 

Emoji II really has become an honorary delinquent and it fits her perfectly. 

I guess no matter how much more grounded Tomoko becomes, she still thinks reading manga is legitimate practice for playing in real-life (though tabletop games may actually allow for some truth).  

Sub!Tomoko confirmed.

What a way to end a chapter. For the longest, Katou had always viewed Tomoko through a pair of rose-tinted glasses, always seeing the girl’s faults as endearing “quirks”. But as her soul-piercing gaze seems to indicate, Katou has reached a revelation about Tomoko that she can actually disapprove of. Whether or not it’ll shatter her illusion of Tomoko is still unclear, but how she treats Tomoko from here on out may finally give us a deeper look into Katou’s psyche. 

160+ chapters we’ve followed Tomoko, and we’re still learning new things about her. The very extent of Tomoko’s agency has always been a tad murky. She’s good at (poorly) executing short-term ideas, but hardly does she plan out and follow up on her long-term goals. Even her greatest milestone of making friends involved a lot of pushing from outsiders (Ogino, the most obvious case). That said, having to take charge of herself for once is inescapable with college on the horizon. How she goes about it amongst her various mom-friends may end up being Tomoko’s biggest personal challenge yet.  

[witchippie]

Realizations in Reading

Therapists have been hard to come by recently. Social media sites have been shoving BetterHelp down my throat, like they know I'm mentally ill or something?? (really, how do they know?)But it actually took a terrible relapse into texting a troubled and toxic person from my past, going through their own healing to receive help. 

Thank god for midnight depressive texts to your ex's ex. 

Ironically enough, they recommended me the book Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving by Pete Walker. I'm only about 7 chapters in, yet every single paragraph is filled with such deep self reflection that I'm taking this book in gradual steps... I need to listen to the book, while listening to what my heart and mind traces from the experiences Pete describes so much more thoroughly and clearly than any therapist I've handled. I grew up having one at 13, 16, and 19 years old... To now 21 years of age. Which is to say, not enough. I do realize that progress in my mental health and PTSD coping mechanisms are going to take years, longer than I think I can handle right now. But I like to remind myself of the folks who have suffered worse than I, and their lives are a daily struggle through a continuum of desperate thoughts of hope, and hateful thoughts of ending it all. I've been diagnosed with bipolar II. Yet, another therapist said I was clinically depressed with anxiety and PTSD. So, you can begin to see the struggle I've had in trying to identify what I should be treating to better get a head start on a healthy, undamaged mind.So why not start with PTSD? This book shoved symptoms in my face that reflect deeply within my descriptions of my mental health that apparently reflect manic depression to psychotherapists. After all, I did knock of 7 of the 11 points in the bipolar questionnaire I received! (BOOM, SCORE AHAHA) This book is screaming complex PTSD symptoms reflecting the same as bipolar II symptoms in my face. I want to run out of my house, screaming to the world "I HAVE COMPLEX PTSD FROM CHILD ABUSE!!!!!!!!!!" But fuck, child abuse-- We think of kids like Gabriel Fernandez and "The Child Called It" type abuse. I used to try and feel lucky when I felt sorrow on my own as a child after a session of my father screaming and creating such a terrifying conglomerate of noise and threats with the face of the manifestation of anger and hate itself-- And it was staring at me. It was targeted at me, pointed eyes glaring right into mine as my teary one's tried the trick of focusing on that mole between his eyes... But, at least he didn't strike me! I should feel safe! I should feel happy! Fuck, I used to wish he would just hit me... So I can at least have an excuse for all this pain, for feeling so hated, for hating myself and thinking I'm worthless, I'm stupid, that I'll never be respected and I have no common sense. As a child. If I am not like him, I am worthless. 

And this taught me to shut up, try and entertain him, keep my opinions to myself, and try to smile. This book taught me that my father's complex PTSD type is the bully-- The charming bully, to be exact. A fight response to any kind of situation disagreeable to his agenda or mindset of the world completely derails him into a tantrum that he forced me to sit and stare at. To be subjected to in my young mind, as a form of learning. It only taught me to shut the fuck up and not speak my opinion. It taught me to despise anyone who talks too much, because I became an ear to scream and complain and curdle words into. I became his therapist. I became his diary for his sorrows and his hates. I became a source of comfort, yet a source of anger. And being a daughter like that turned me into someone I thought was unlovable. The only form of mind I could let loose was on the internet, so I became addicted as a child. I disassociated in school. I pictured myself as the goofy backdrop character that's in every episode but has no character development, just comedic relief. At home, I was the mediator. At home, I felt expected to be the "Sunshine Girl" my parents always called me. But I feel no sunshine within me any longer. I wonder how long it'll take, confronting these hurts and my own PTSD to become sunshine-y again. I started this blog because I'm stuck back at home with my father and mother. And my mind is relapsing back into my 13 year old state of being a blank slate, and the only form of expression I can claim is on this fucking website, even though Tumblr is dead.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Next Door Neighbors (Part Two) - Gerard Way x Reader

Request: Ok can you please make a part two? & CAN U PLEASE DO A VAMPIRE GERARD X READER ? WITH FEMALE READER AND CAN IT BE V SOFT UWU THANKS ALSO UR SO TALENTED AND I LOVE U AHAHA

Reader: female (probably)

Word count: 3 218

A/N: just for fun i did a little animation that goes with this story (cause i can ^^)

Part One

It had almost been a year since you had first met the mysterious man on the cemetery in person. Gerard and you had spent many nights together after that, talking about whatever you could think off, be it politics, stories from your childhood or random jokes. Often you found yourself discussing things like the influence of the moon on the human psyche, cryptozoology, divination or astrology. Since Gerard had been raised more than 200 years before you, it was interesting to hear what he told you about his youth, and often he stopped in front of gravestones to tell you about the people who lay buried there.

Much to your disappointment, your time in the small town came to an end far too quickly for your liking, and only two weeks after you had met Gerard, you had to leave him, to go back to your life, the one where you had a job, lived in a cozy apartment, and went out for drinks with your colleagues.

But now you were back. It had almost taken you an entire year to finally get some vacation time, and find the courage to return to the familiar streets of the city you grew up in.

Excitedly you stirred your car around the last corner into the street your house was standing in, facing the cemetery, which now came into the view as well. You immediately noticed the change that you had never expected to happen. Even though it was early afternoon, the iron gates were closed, and a heavy chain wrapped around the bars. Behind the fence you noticed grass growing on the usually well-kept stone paths, and the few graves you were able to see, looked abandoned, weeds growing high, no fresh flowers, and no single person wandering amongst the gravestones, visiting the last resting place of their loved ones.

Confused you drove up to your parents’ house and got out of the car, continually looking back over your shoulder at the cemetery. Your mother seemed to have noticed your arrival since she waited in the door as you walked up the few steps to the small house.

“You made it,” she cheered, wrapping her arms around you.

“Hey mum,” you smiled, but you were still thinking of the cemetery. What had happened there?

You did not dare asking that question until you were sitting at the dinner table. The usual “How have you been? Anything new?”- questions had been asked and answered, so you finally decided to bring up what had happened to the piece of land in front of your childhood home.

“Oh, the city council, or whoever decides these things, closed it down,” you dad explained between two bites.

“They said most people prefer to get buried at that new graveyard at the edge of town, because it also has the funeral parlor is right next to it, and so is the chapel and all,” your mother continued explaining.

You nodded, and continued eating, but your attention drifted away from the conversation. If they had shut down the cemetery, where was Gerard? Was he still there, hiding in one of the mausoleums only to show himself at night? Had he moved? If so, where? Where would a vampire who barely knew a living soul move? It destressed you, imagining Gerard not living here anymore. To you, he belonged here the same way gravestones belong on a graveyard.

Time did not pass fast enough for you that evening, until you finally announced you were going to meet some friend from back in high school. That was obviously a lie, since the main reason for your visit was to see Gerard again. You threw on a rain coat and some sneakers before you hastily made your way out of the front door, over to the other side of the street, and then along the fence of the cemetery towards the front gate.

Just as you had seen this afternoon, there was still the chain wrapped around the bars, making it impossible to push the two wings open far enough to slip in. But growing up next to and regularly sneaking into the cemetery as a teenager, had prepared you for such a moment. You continued walking along the high iron fence until you had reached a part of the street where no houses had been built and even the street lanterns had given up their service.

It would have been creepy for most people, but you did not care, as you took hold of the bars of the iron fence, and placed your foot to rest on a crossbar, pushing yourself off the ground. You remembered the first time your friends had convinced you to break into the cemetery by night, none of you had known how to properly climb the fence, and you had torn your shirt, but now, even after not having done this for years, your muscle memory kicked in, and you skillfully climbed over the spiky ends of the fence, letting yourself fall to the soft, grassy ground on the other side.

A grin carved into your face and you quickly straightened your jacked, before you walked off into the direction of the mausoleums where you remembered having met Gerard last year.

You stumbled along the dark paths, trying to keep yourself from falling over gravestones and bumps in the ground. Usually you would have brought a torch for nightly adventures, but the faint light of a wandering torch on a closed down cemetery would only have drawn people’s attention to your little mission. And what were you to tell the police if someone decided to call them? “Oh, I’m just looking for a friend who used to live here, right over there in this one rich families’ mausoleums.” Yeah, definitely not.

Annoyed you realized that your rain coat did in fact come to a use, when light, tiny droplets of rain started falling from the dark clouds that hid the moon. You pulled up the hood, trying to cover your head from the water, and continued walking over the cemetery, slowly beginning to feel uneasy about the situation. Something was off, something was wrong, your instinct told you. The little hairs on your neck rose, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You furrowed your brows and looked around, expecting to see someone watching you, but you were alone.

The rain increased, the droplets turning into drops of cold water, and an icy wind started blowing, before you finally reached the first mausoleum. It was not the one Gerard had always hidden in, but you knocked on the heavy door anyway and tried to push it open, but to no avail.

So you moved on, and tried your luck with the second mausoleum, ignoring the feeling of dread. This time you tried more, knocked longer, pushed harder, even quietly called for Gerard. Your voice got lost in the howling of the wind that had picked up, and the drumming of the rain. What had started out as a harmless drizzle, had quickly turned into a full blown storm.

After your second try had failed just as pitifully as the first, you ran on to the third door. Lightning stroke across the sky, flashing the abandoned cemetery in white light for a split second, blinding you and leaving you startled, but you quickly remembered why you were here and continued your search.

By now your trousers were wet with the cold rain that had been blown against you by the strong wind, and the time between lightings decreased. A particularly strong gust of wind ripped the hood off of your head, causing the loose strands of your hair to dance in the air. Annoyed you brushed the hair out of your face, trying to get back your vision before you lifted your hand to the iron door of the last mausoleum. This was the one Gerard used to live in, and you were pretty certain that, should this one be empty too, you would go home and continue your search tomorrow. You were freezing, and honestly: there were nicer things than searching a cemetery at night during a heavy thunder storm.

To your surprise the heavy door swung open at the contact with your hand as you reached forward to bang your fist against it. You did not even hesitate for a moment before you slipped into the strange building.

Inside it was a lot warmer than out in the rain, but also darker. Resting your back against the door, you waited for a few moments, trying to calm your shivers and allowing your eyes to adjust to the minimal lighting.

When finally the black turned into different shades of grey, you recognized the room you had wished yourself back to so often during the past months. The two stone sarcophagi that were placed in niches the walls left and right of the room had been remodeled into furniture.

The right one held a mattress, pillows and blankets, while the left one was used as a shelf, holding a box of cereal, a carton of UHT-milk, a few plates and bowls and some cutlery. The sarcophagus at the end of the room had been turned into a mixture of a table and a bookshelf. An armchair had been pushed to its side, using it like a side table. On the other end, opposite the chair, heaps of books were stacked onto each other. The middle of the room been had turned into a fire place, burned wood and ashes resting on the old stones, but they had turned cold.

Shivering from the icy wind, you strolled into the room. Not much had changed, except for the brand of the cereal and some of the books, allowing you to hope that Gerard had not moved and was still living here. You brushed off the wet rain coat and walked over to a suitcase that was hidden in a corner in the back. You knew Gerard kept his clean clothes in there, so you quickly exchanged the dripping wet trousers for some dry sweat pants, hoping that Gerard would not mind. After all you were determined to wait here for him. So you sat down on the bed, taking off your shoes and crossing your legs. You leant against a wall, facing the door and closed your eyes for a moment. The smell around you reminded you so much of Gerard, and feeling the pillow in your back brought back memories of the few nights you had spent here, talking about whatever you liked, cuddled into the wooly blankets, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.

You were woken by a hand on your shoulder softly shaking you awake. Sleepily you rubbed your eyes before you blinked them open. The room was dimly lit by a fire, and the smell of Chinese noodles filled the air, making you perk up. A broad smile on his face, black hair hanging into his eyes, Gerard stood next to you, smiling down on you gently. It took you a moment to properly comprehend what had happened, but once you had remembered the events of the night, you leapt forward, throwing your arms around the still grinning man and wrapped him in a tight hug, which he immediately returned.

“Now that’s a surprise,” he chuckled, tightening the hug a little, nuzzling his nose into your still slightly damp hair. “Do you always break into your friends’ houses when they’re not home?”

Laughing you pushed him away, now able to take a better look at him. His hair had grown a little longer since last year, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to have faded. He was wearing the same black coat you already knew, but the dark shirt he had always worn had been replaced with a black band shirt.

“Only when it’s super stormy outside,” you joked.

The smile at spread across Gerard’s face made your heart melt, and you felt your insides turning into warm, excited butterflies fluttering around nervously, but at the same time happily. While your mind was still doing cartwheels, unable to quite catch up on the fact that finally, after so long, you were reunited with Gerard, he had already wrapped you into another hug, one that lingered longer this time, both of you relaxing, and soaking in the comforting sensation of each other’s presence.

When Gerard pulled away, his expression was soft and loving. You felt yourself drowning in his beautiful hazel eyes, and his finger gently massaged the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him again, until his lips met yours carefully.

The kiss knocked the breath out of you, even though it was not demanding at all. The mere thought of Gerard and you kissing had made your heart speed up during the past months, and now experiencing it, it was better than you ever could have imagined. Gerard’s lips were soft, and when he felt you responding, just as carefully as he had started out, he could not help the smile that tucked at them. Slowly you wrapped your hands into his black hair, weaving his silky curls around your fingers, and pulled yourself closer to him. His hands wandered from your neck down your back, the warmth of his skin seeping through your clothes, making shivers run down your spine.

When Gerard pulled away, his cheeks had blushed to a soft pink, and both of you giggled, before he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off the matrass on the sarcophagus that you had still been sitting on, setting your feet down on the uneven floor of the mausoleum. You smiled at Gerard, your fingers wrapped into the smooth fabric of his shirt, and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I brought Chinese noodles, if you ask really nicely, I might consider sharing,” he offered, making you shake your head at him in amusement.

“It’s fine, I had dinner at my parents’,” you explained, following Gerard to the other sarcophagus on which the cutlery and food was placed.

“I insist,” he laughed, grabbing two forks and the paper box with the warm noodles, “Come on.”

He sat down the things on the big sarcophagus, and sat down in the armchair, pulling you into his lap, making you giggle.

Quietly talking about what had happened to both of you during the months you had spent apart, you shared the box of noodles. Gerard confessed that after the cemetery had been closed, he had considered moving, trying to find some new place to stay at, after all, after two hundred years of living side by side with his brother’s grave, he felt like it was time to move on. He had thought about finding you, but in the end he had been unsure if you had even wanted to stay in contact with him and he had no clue about where you lived anyway. So he had stayed where he was, hoping, that when you came to visit your parents, you might pay him a visit.

The thunderstorm started to subside, and the box of noodles was long empty, when the darkness outside the single window faded into a dark grey. Sleepily you rested your head against Gerard’s shoulder, who had wrapped his arms around you, his cheek brushing against your hair and his breath fanning over the skin on your neck.

“You could come with me,” you mumbled, finally voicing the thought that had scrambled around your brain since he had mentioned leaving this place. “We could find a nice little place for you, not too far away from mine…”

“Or I could just move in with you,” Gerard chuckled.

You lifted your head up, your eyes meeting his, curious to find out if he was serious. When you found no sarcasm in them, you laughed and shook your head before kissing Gerard again. Still chuckling he leant in, his breath fanning over your skin. You had been sitting with him for hours now, but you still felt a comfortable tickle wherever he touched your skin.

“Really, can I,” he asked when you had pulled away, your forehead now resting against his.

“Do you really think I could say no to that,” you laughed, pecking him on the lips again before you got up from his lap with a groan.

“Where are you going,” he whined, already missing the close proximity he had had to you.

“I have to go home; my parents will wonder where I am,” you explained.

Gerard nodded and watched as you collected the rain coat and you shoes, which were still lying on the floor, and slipped them back on.

“Are you going to come over again tonight?”

You turned to look at the dark haired vampire who still sat in the armchair by the big sarcophagus.

“Are you going to bring food again?”

Gerard laughed lightheartedly at your response.

“Of course I’ll come,” you grinned, walking over to him again for a last kiss before you had to leave the mausoleum, the cemetery, and this beautiful dream. But if Gerard really wanted to come with you, if he really wanted to give the two of you a chance, then soon this, this thing that now felt as far away from reality as a fading dream, would be your home, your reality. The thought made your stomach twist into knots of excitement.

“You look good in my clothes,” Gerard whispered, when he pulled away after the kiss, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of the sweat pants you had stolen from him.

“You are unbelievable,” you laughed and turned away, walking over to the rusty door. “Sleep well, see you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” Gerard repeated, and watched with an aching heart how you opened the door just far enough to slip out, careful that no direct sunlight would fall into the mausoleum. But you would be back, in just a few hours you would be back in his arms, and if it would be his choice, he would keep you by his side forever.

Outside the air was stingingly cold, but the oxygen that filled your lungs was a nice change to the smoke from the fire inside Gerard’s hide out. The grass underneath your shoes was wet from the rain, but the air smelled of fresh grass and earth, and of spring and flowers, and even though the sky was covered in thick, grey clouds, you could not help but feel absolutely blissful. Maybe you could bring a photo album tonight, show Gerard some old pictures, and make him talk more about his past, about the adventures he had experienced. Or you could just cuddle, wrapped into each other’s embrace. No matter what you would decide to do, there would be plenty of time to do whatever you could think of.

Your thoughts still back with Gerard, you wandered back over cemetery, the knee high grass brushing drops of rainwater against the sweatpants you were wearing, making a small way into the overgrown grass between the gravestones, and you wondered if a little child would see you from their window, just like you always had seen Gerard when you had been little.