#any gacha ritual ideas? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solxamber · 6 months ago

Note

Had the thought of "Malleus helps the prefect with their crush on a NRC student by suggesting fae courtship advice" and realized how funny it sounded but I cannot for the life of me write. So I skitter to you

So! Maybe a request of Malleus listening to how his beloved little friend has a crush on azul or idia whoever you choose, and is too anxious of rejection to ask them out, but he tries his best to help, however he most likely has no idea on human courtship, so ends up giving reader advice that mostly correlates with fae courtship rituals, maybe with Lilia helping out somewhat with advice he knows would work better for humans and maybe it can be a fem or gn reader?/lh

Fae Courtship 101: Romance Gone Wrong || Idia Shroud

In your desperation to confess your feelings to Idia, you've recruited Malleus to help you. Except his help is mildly concerning at best and extremely alarming at worst.

a/n: so sorry for the extremely long wait, i hope you like it <3

You were deep in super hell.

Not just any hell—ultra-max difficulty hell with a boss fight at the end. Why? Because you were hopelessly, embarrassingly smitten with Idia Shroud. Every time he so much as muttered a sarcastic comment under his breath, your brain turned into static noise and you felt like you were pulling on a gacha with a rate up of 0.000001%.

Which is why, when Malleus Draconia suddenly appeared in the middle of Ramshackle like a fae bat signal, you didn’t even blink. You were too far gone. You just flung yourself onto the couch and unleashed your woes like a possessed infomercial host.

“HE’S TOO CUTE,” you screamed into a throw pillow. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE. HIS HAIR GLOWS, MALLEUS. HIS. HAIR. GLOWS.”

Malleus, who had been standing ominously in the corner like a living gargoyle, tilted his head. “This sounds… grave.”

“IT IS,” you wailed. “Every time I see him, I want to just—ugh, I don’t know—hand him a limited-edition figure and tell him he’s my forever player two! But then I don’t because my brain decides to blue-screen instead! I’m a romantic coward!”

“Curious,” Malleus murmured.

You sat up, clutching the pillow like a lifeline. “Do you even know how bad it is? The other day, he tripped over his own shoelace and I almost confessed right then and there! I can’t keep living like this!”

Malleus’s glowing eyes narrowed in what could only be described as dramatic princely determination. “Say no more, child of man.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I shall aid you in this endeavor,” he announced, placing a hand over his chest like he was about to duel a dragon in your honor. “You have my solemn vow that your courtship will succeed.”

You blinked again, the words taking a few extra seconds to register. “Wait. What?”

“I have centuries of experience in matters of the heart,” Malleus declared with a completely straight face.

“You do?” you asked, very reasonably skeptical because the only “courtship” you could imagine him doing was with a gargoyle in a medieval tapestry.

“Indeed,” he continued, undeterred by your blatant disbelief. “Shroud will recognize your worth once we present him with a grand gesture of affection.”

“…Define ‘grand gesture,’” you said, suddenly wary.

“A trophy of unparalleled rarity,” Malleus suggested with the confidence of someone who had definitely never bought a gift before. “Or perhaps a demonstration of your magical prowess. You are quite skilled at… surviving near-death experiences, are you not?”

“That’s not a talent!” you yelped.

He ignored you, his enthusiasm building like a storm. “Yes. I shall teach you the ancient fae techniques of courtship. You shall sweep Shroud off his feet.”

You buried your face in your hands. “This is going to end in a lawsuit.”

“Nonsense,” Malleus said firmly. “It will end in love.”

You weren’t sure whether to cry, laugh, or start writing your will.

You stared at the piece of paper in your hand like it had personally wronged you. Because, honestly, it had.

Malleus was perched regally on your couch, sipping tea like this wasn’t entirely his fault. “This poem,” he said, voice brimming with pride, “will surely capture Idia Shroud’s heart. It is both heartfelt and… inventive.”

“It’s terrible,” you muttered, waving the paper at him. “It sounds like a rejected NPC dialogue option.”

“Nonsense,” Malleus replied, unbothered. “It is a masterpiece of raw emotion. Shall I read it to you again?”

“No!” you said, alarmed. “I still haven’t recovered from the first time!”

It had been a mess. Rhyming “gamer” with “flamer,” shoehorning in “Player Two,” and an overly dramatic stanza about “lighting up the dark like a 5-star pull.” It sounded like a bad RPG side quest.

“I can’t give this to him,” you whined. “He’ll think I wrote it drunk.”

Malleus, ever unshaken, tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Then I shall present it to him on your behalf. I am an excellent orator.”

Your brain lagged. “You what?!”

Before you could stop him, Malleus plucked the poem from your hands and practically glided out the door. You ran after him, panic bubbling in your chest.

You caught up to him just as he cornered Idia in the library. Poor Idia looked like he was questioning every life choice that had led him here.

“Child of man,” Malleus said gravely, holding the poem like it was an ancient scroll. “Your heart has crafted a most wondrous ode to Idia Shroud. Allow me to deliver your words of passion.”

“No. Nope. Nope,” you interrupted, lunging forward.

But Malleus had already begun. “To the one whose hair glows like—”

You didn’t let him finish. Instinct took over. You snatched the paper out of his hand and, in one smooth motion, ate it.

Idia blinked. Then blinked again. “…Did you just eat paper?”

You gagged but managed to choke it down, wiping your mouth with as much dignity as you could muster. “Yup. Totally. Don’t even worry about it.”

Malleus looked genuinely offended. “Why would you consume such a heartfelt creation?”

“Because it was awful,” you hissed, yanking him by the sleeve.

Meanwhile, Idia just stood there, watching this unhinged disaster unfold. He glanced at Malleus, then at you, then at the faint sheen of sweat on your forehead. “Man,” he mumbled, “I should’ve just stayed in my room.”

Malleus stood in the middle of Ramshackle’s living room, radiating regal confidence and possibly a bit too much enthusiasm for someone whose advice had caused you to eat a poem in front of your crush just two days prior.

“I have considered our previous efforts,” Malleus began, pacing dramatically, “and I believe it is time to enact a traditional fae courtship ritual.”

You squinted at him from your spot on the couch. “Define ‘traditional.’”

Malleus clasped his hands behind his back. “It is quite simple. You must leave a series of carefully chosen gifts for Idia to discover. Each one should symbolize your intentions, culminating in an offer of eternal devotion.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you said cautiously. “What kind of gifts are we talking about?”

Malleus turned to you, his expression far too serious. “The first gift must be a bouquet of midnight roses—each petal dipped in the dew of the first frost. The second, a vial of your own tears, to show vulnerability. And the third, a token of your affection, forged in moonlit flames.”

You stared at him, horrified. “Malleus, I don’t know how to say this politely, but… are you nuts?!”

He frowned, clearly confused. “Is this not how humans express their love?”

“No!” you exclaimed. “Nobody’s out here crying into vials or setting up romantic blacksmith sessions!”

Malleus waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. It is a noble and time-honored method. Come, I will assist you.”

Step 1: Midnight Roses

Somehow, you found yourself sneaking into the Botanical Gardens late at night with Malleus, who had insisted on conjuring the “perfect” roses.

“These roses will shine with a light so soft, it will illuminate your sincerity,” he said as he gestured dramatically.

A small explosion followed.

When the smoke cleared, you were holding a bouquet of roses that were glowing like neon signs. “Malleus, these look radioactive. Are you trying to confess or give him superpowers?”

He looked affronted. “Their brilliance reflects your ardor!”

Your ardor looked like it would set off a Geiger counter.

Step 2: The Vial of Tears

“Now, you must cry into this vial,” Malleus instructed, handing you what looked like a fancy perfume bottle.

“Do you hear yourself?” you asked, utterly baffled.

“Think of your love for Shroud,” he said. “Surely the emotion will move you to tears.”

You tried. You really did. But after five minutes of sitting there awkwardly, all you had to offer was a single, pathetic sniffle.

“Perhaps I should assist,” Malleus said, reaching out. “Do you require a tragic tale? A dramatic betrayal?”

“No! Absolutely not!” you snapped, shoving the bottle back at him. “I am not sobbing into a vial for anyone!”

Step 3: The Moonlit Token

The final step involved an actual fire pit behind Ramshackle because, according to Malleus, the moonlit flames were essential.

“I shall forge your token,” Malleus declared, summoning a small inferno that nearly took out the lawn.

When the smoke cleared, you held a jagged piece of metal that looked like it was ripped off an air conditioning unit.

“What is this supposed to be?” you asked flatly.

“A medallion,” Malleus said proudly.

“It looks like I pulled it out of a scrap heap!”

You delivered the “gifts” to Idia during a moment of sheer madness, mostly because Malleus had already enchanted the roses to literally float behind you, and they weren’t going anywhere.

Idia opened his door and froze. His hair immediately flickered pink as he stared at you, the bouquet, the medallion, and—was that a perfume bottle?

“What… is happening right now?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“It’s—uh—fae courtship stuff?” you mumbled, trying to shove the glowing bouquet into his hands.

The roses sparked.

“Oh my god, is this thing going to explode?!” Idia yelped, throwing them across the room.

You panicked and shoved the medallion forward. “Here! It’s—it’s a token of my affection?”

Idia stared at the jagged metal piece. “Did you… dig this out of a junkyard?”

“NO!”

Finally, you shoved the vial of “tears” at him. Idia took one look at it, his face a mixture of disbelief and growing alarm.

“Did you just hand me a potion ingredient?!”

At this point, you were ready to die. Before you could explain yourself, Idia closed the door and slid down to the floor on the other side, clutching his heart.

“Fae Courtship...they like me,” he whispered, his hair a vibrant pink. “They're insane, but they like me.”

Meanwhile, you turned to Malleus outside Ramshackle, utterly mortified.

“I hate you,” you groaned.

Malleus only smiled. “An absolute success.”

Malleus was once again pacing in Ramshackle’s living room like a Victorian gentleman trying to solve the case of your disastrously one-sided love life.

“Here is what we shall do,” he said, hands clasped and gaze intense. “You will prepare a ceremonial feast. Cook for him using ingredients that symbolize your intentions. Lavender for devotion, honey for sweetness, and”—he paused dramatically—“a pheasant roasted under the light of the full moon. You must present it to him on a silver platter while reciting your feelings in the Fae tongue.”

You blinked. “Malleus. Where in Twisted Wonderland am I supposed to find a pheasant?!”

He looked mildly offended. “Surely you can catch one. Do you not have traps?”

“I live in Ramshackle, not the woods!” you snapped. “Also, I think Idia would keel over if I walked in with a roasted bird and started chanting in Fae.”

Malleus sighed. “Child of man, your lack of commitment is concerning.”

Before you could argue, Lilia materialized from who knows where with his usual mischievous grin. “Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he drawled. “This is incredibly entertaining.”

You glared at him. “Lilia, I’m in emotional distress, not a soap opera.”

“Exactly why I’m here,” Lilia said, flopping into a chair. “Malleus, your suggestions are delightful, but I’d prefer not to have Idia hospitalized from sheer terror. Allow me to offer some… balance.”

Malleus frowned. “Balance?”

“Yes,” Lilia said. “Like suggesting something sane, such as gifting him a rare figurine from one of his favorite animes. It’s thoughtful, meaningful, and most importantly, won’t require a midnight hunt.”

You thought getting a figurine would be easy. You were wrong.

You tried everything:

Azul offered to get it—if you signed a contract that basically gave him first claim on your future firstborn.

Ruggie smugly said he could “procure” it but asked for a kidney as collateral.

Just when you were about to accept your fate as figurine-less, Kalim swooped in like the sunshine prince he is, offering to buy it outright with his seemingly infinite wealth. “You want it? I’ll get it! It’ll be fun!” You could’ve cried.

Bless Kalim and his endless generosity.

When you finally gave the figurine to Idia, you were an exhausted wreck. It had taken days, multiple negotiations, and at least one near-death experience (Ruggie’s "payment terms" were aggressive).

Idia stared at the box, then at you, then back at the box. His hair flickered pink as his mind tried to process the situation.

“Is this—?” he started, his voice cracking.

You nodded. “It’s that limited-edition one you mentioned.”

Idia froze, clutching the box like it was the Holy Grail. “H-how did you even afford this?!” he stammered. “No offense, but have you seen Ramshackle?!”

“Bye!” you squeaked, panicking and bolting out the door before he could say anything else.

Malleus, watching you sprint away from Ignihyde like a spooked animal, nodded sagely. “Another success.”

Lilia shook his head, cackling. “If nothing else, this is fantastic entertainment.”

Meanwhile, back in his room, Idia sat on the floor, staring at the figurine. His hair was a fiery pink as his brain short-circuited.

“They remembered,” he whispered. “They actually remembered…”

Ortho popped into the room. “Big Brother, are you okay? Your vitals are—”

“LEAVE ME TO DIE IN PEACE!” Idia shrieked, clutching the figurine like a lifeline.

It was safe to say the figurine worked.

You were lying on the couch at Ramshackle, contemplating your life choices and whether Malleus or Lilia was the greater threat to your sanity, when Ortho appeared at your door.

“Big Brother has summoned you to Ignihyde!” he chirped, far too cheerful for your emotional state.

“What did I do now?” you groaned, throwing an arm over your face.

“I think it’s good news!” Ortho said, clearly hiding something.

Given that this was Idia, “good news” could mean anything from “I found a new game to play” to “you’re about to be the first human test subject for my latest invention.” Against your better judgment, you followed Ortho.

When you entered Idia’s room, he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his hair flickering an anxious shade of pink. He didn’t even look up from his console, which was just a black screen because he’d obviously forgotten to turn it on in his panic.

“Uh, thanks for coming,” he mumbled.

“You did send your little brother to fetch me like I was being summoned to the Underworld,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

Idia winced. “Y-yeah, sorry about that. I panicked, okay?”

You sat down on the floor across from him, waiting. His hair crackled as he kept fidgeting, his gaze darting everywhere but you. Finally, he took a deep breath and blurted out:

“So, I’ve been analyzing your recent behavior, and it’s, uh… come to my attention that… maybe you like me?”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift from mumbling to outright accusations. “Analyzing my behavior?”

“Yes!” he squeaked, gripping his knees like his life depended on it. “The weird flustered thing you do when I talk to you, the whole ‘anime figurine extravaganza’ that nearly killed you—don’t think I didn’t hear about that, by the way—and the fact that you’ve willingly talked to me more than once. It all adds up!”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. He looked increasingly panicked.

“I mean, if you don’t like me, that’s fine! I’ll just—uh, go smite myself with a lightning bolt or something. Lemme call Malleus; he’ll be thrilled to help.”

“Idia—”

“But!” he interrupted, holding up a finger. “If you do like me, I… I think I should tell you that I… uh, I like you too.” His voice cracked on the last word, and his hair flared bright pink. “A lot. Like, an unhealthy amount of 'a lot.’”

You sat there, stunned, as his words hung in the air.

“And, uh, I’m confessing because… well, I’m not sure I’d survive another one of Malleus’s courtship rituals. No offense, but I think he’s trying to kill me. Ortho heard he suggested you bring me a lock of your hair dipped in a mild poison to solidify our bond?!”

At that, the floodgates broke. Exhausted, drained, and done with this entire saga, you leaned forward, cupped his face in your hands, and kissed him. His hair crackled as it flared a near-neon pink, and he froze like a system on the verge of a crash.

When you pulled back, you sighed. “Thank you for finally putting me out of my misery.”

“I—wait—what—” His brain was clearly blue-screening.

“Idia,” you said firmly, shaking him gently. “Yes, I like you. Yes, this whole thing has been a nightmare. And yes, if I have to call Malleus one more time for ‘help,’ I might smite myself.”

He blinked rapidly, finally rebooting. “Oh. Cool. Uh, can I—?” He gestured vaguely, his face red as a tomato.

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again, pulling him into a hug. Somewhere in the distance, you were pretty sure you heard Ortho cheering.

Back at Diasomnia, Malleus scribbled something into his journal. “Another successful courtship facilitated by me,” he muttered, thoroughly pleased with himself.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Lilia said, chuckling from his spot on the couch.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia #idia shroud #platonic malleus x reader #malleus x reader #platonic malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #malleus draconia

1K notes · View notes

msachillelaurosfunnels · 6 months ago

Note

Go on about the universe thing please (if you wish), I’m interested

The moment I have been waiting for... 😈😈

Disclaimer: everything in this post is part of a fictional world, IT IS NOT REAL!!! (well except for me, I'm real ☹️☹️) AND WARNING, KIND OF CRINGE...

So, this universe starts with me (yes, I'm the "main character", very cringe I know). I was (NOT AM) 10, with an emerging interest in history. All of the sudden, I gain powers? (So cringe bro). These powers allowed me to do a lot of things, except give myself immortality and many other things that would make me a "Mary Sue" lmao (a Mary Sue is a character with no flaws and/or is extremely overpowered I believe). These powers were inspired by Creator Luni, a character in a game I used to play religiously: Gacha World 😭😭😭. Basically a floating pad that I tap on to do/make whatever I want.

The character in question:

Ok anyways... So since I found out that I could revive as many people as I wanted (except for people who died when they were under 18), I got an idea: REVIVE THE UNITED STATES PRESIDENTS!!! Why? Because 10 year old me (BTW I AM NOT 10 RIGHT NOW.) wanted to get to know the country's former leaders (kinda stupid reason but hey it's whatever). How did I do it? On the 22nd of August, I teleported to each and every presidents gravesite at exactly 12AM, somehow get to the graves that were blocked off, block off cameras (if there were any cameras), and do the "ritual". (WARNING FOR BLOOD HERE) There's only three things you need for a revival ritual: your own blood, a pan to dip your hand palm first into the blood (it doesn't need to be a pan) and bandages to cover the wound. That sounds very weird, I know 😭 (And also, I learned about this "ritual" beforehand). This is how I did it: I used my powers to sharpen my fingernails into literal claws and cut my left arm to get some blood into the pan (btw the cut wasn't huge, just enough to be able to make a bloody handprint). I put my hand into the pan and then slapped my BLOODY HANDPRINT onto the name on the gravestone/coffin of every president. But, I left a tiny vial of my blood at Lincoln's tomb in the burial room(?), because I wanted to be found out. After the handprint is placed on the gravestone/coffin, it CANNOT be washed off and it will manifest for 12 hours after it is placed. After it is done manifesting, the handprint will dissapear. Since I did it at 12AM, they all came back to life at 12PM. (Joanna, if you wanted to be found out, why did you block the cameras? Well, I didn't want to be seen, but found out through the blood test.)

When every president woke up, they either woke up above their grave, or in their coffin in which they could easily open in nothing but a white robe. Since these gravesites and presidential libraries are open to the public, many people witnessed a former president spawn out of thin air in front of their own eyes.

Another thing about reviving a person is that these revivals can have side effects. These side effects are what's known as a "resurrection aftereffect" This can alter the resurrected person's physical and/or emotional functions and/or features, it can be a drastic or small change. The only president that was affected by this just so happened to be Franklin Pierce, but I will talk about the changes later. I learned about these prior to reviving the presidents, and I wondered WHICH ONES would be affected. When I found out they were revived, I sent the clothes they wore to them in a matter of seconds, so they wouldn't be stuck in a white robe. Three other things about my powers is that I can alter the age in which they come back in. In other words, I can choose which age they would be when resurrected, and they will be stuck at that age physically and mentally, but they would still retain memories from after the age they are stuck in. For example, Ronald Reagan died at 93 years old, when I brought him back, I changed his age to 75. The other thing is that I can remove diseases, STDs, and any other physical problem that a person had (NOT INCLUDING MENTAL DISORDERS AND/OR ILLNESSES). So in this universe, FDR CAN WALK (although he may need to regain the ability to do so) AND JFK DOESN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT BACK PROBLEMS AND OTHER DISEASES HE HAD???!!!?!????!? (And also, I can restore their teeth, so Washington no longer has dentures... 😈😈) The last thing is that when I age, I receive more abilities.

As expected, Lincoln found the vial I left that had a note on it "Send to a lab for testing", he definitely doesn't know what a lab is, so he just held onto it for now. When the president at the time, Donald Trump, caught wind of the news, he ordered a meeting of the former presidents. He sent government officials to go get the other presidents via transportation (obviously lol). Some of them were transported via car or the LITERAL PRESIDENT'S AIR FORCE ONE (or um the president's personal plane) because yknow Ronnie is literally in California. After all of the presidents were taken to the White House, they held the meeting. This meeting talked about where the former presidents would reside, and a myriad of other things. During this meeting, Lincoln presented the vial of my blood because he had no idea what to do with it lol. It was taken to a lab for testing. They concluded that the presidents would reside in the White House (which would require a bit of renovations I think lol), but they would not engage in the political affairs of today, unless ABSOLUTELY necessary.

A few weeks later, the test results came back. When they saw who it was, Donald ordered the government officials to come and take me to the White House for "questioning" or an interrogation, if you will. When they arrived at my house, my parents were obviously confused as to why they were here. They told them that they were sent by the president to get me, but assured them that I wasn't in trouble and showed my parents proof that they were legit officials. But before I left, I wanted to pack some things.

When I got to Washington D.C, I was taken into the White House. First, I was taken to meet the presidents. When they saw me, most of them were very bewildered. Some just stared at me, the others talked amongst themselves. All of them but Pierce (once again, I will get to this soon). They were very confused as to how and why a 10 year old girl brought them all back to life. After all of that, I was taken to a room for questioning. The officials and Trump asked me a myriad of questions, but I may need some help with coming up with the exact questions, as I am going to write a document going into more detail about this universe (Doodle, I'm looking at you... 👀👀).

Anyways, after this, the news of who was behind the revivals came out to the public. So I basically became a celebrity! Because of this, I wanted to make content on YouTube, but I had to get my parents to manage the channel for me. I wanted to choose 3 presidents to come onto the channel with me and record videos, whether it be informative or purely comical! The three presidents I chose were: Abraham Lincoln (He's one of the BEST presidents, no really!), Thomas Jefferson (because I did research about the dude, and I wanted to know MORE!), and Franklin Pierce (he interested me the second I found out about his existence, which was online and before the revivals, AND because of the resurrection aftereffects).

I informed all of the presidents about the important things that happened after they died (like WW1, WW2, 9/11, etc. And I'd teach the prezzes that died before the civil war happened about it too lol).

Now... LET'S TALK ABOUT THE EFFECTS PIERCE WENT THROUGH... 😈😈😈 Firstly, Franklin lost his ability to properly express emotion (his facial expression is literally blank, it was like he couldn't move his face to express emotion, but he could still speak. He can move his face, but can't express emotion somehow.). Secondly, his voice became void of ANY tone that would convey any sort of feelings. His voice sounded freakishly similar to a robot, it was still deep though. But CERTAIN tones (like when you ask a question) are still present. And lastly (this one is a small, physical change), his tongue grew longer??? (huh???????).

And most of the time, except for the videos, he'd avoid me, especially when I try to make a "friendly advance" (like an arm hug or smth). I initially didn't know why, but it WASN'T because he didn't like me and after I turned 12, he started avoiding me less (The reason as to why Pierce avoided me was because he believed he was cursed, and if we made an entirely platonic, emotional bond, I would die before December 19th, which is my birthday. But specifically December 19th, 2021 in which I turned 12. I have a WIP document going into full detail of the specific event btw lol).

There are other notable events, that I haven't written about YET.. 😈😈 Anyways, later on, I added two more presidents to the main group (John F. Kennedy, and Ronald Reagan!). And some time in early or late 2024, I bring PHINEAS GAGE INTO ALL OF THIS?????? (I started developing an interest in him, and then ended up reviving him. 😰😰😰😰😰)

And yes, I do face a bit of scrutiny for reviving them, because MOST of them weren't the best people (it's not my fault man, I knew little to NOTHING about them prior to this😢😢)... But I'm not gonna ignore it, being ignorant is NOT good when it comes to these types of topics (slavery, and other stuff 😰)... And don't worry, I end up "fixing" most of them (like changing their view on people that aren't white like them because being racist is the equivalent of being a LOSER lmao).

Wow, that took a bit to jot down (I didn't do this all in one day LOL)... Whatever though, it was (probably) worth it... 😈🧐 I can't believe I have finally released this universe for the entirety of Tumblr to see. 😰😰

This is what autism does to a person...

#lol #us presidents #u.s. presidents #us history #a universe that I have in my head... lol #I've kept it secret for years #until now... 😈😈😈#franklin pierce #franklinpierce #abraham lincoln #thomas jefferson #john f kennedy #ronald reagan #phineas gage #hehe #sigh.....#this is so cringe.....#msachillelaurosfunnels yapping session

16 notes · View notes

djljpanda · 2 years ago

Note

In crk, one of Black Lemonade's lines when you level her up is "I somehow feel stronger now, thank you.?" Or something along those lines, which implies the cookies don't really understand how the levelling up/promotion/gacha system might work, just that they feel stronger afterwards.

I think this could further lead the cookies into believing the player is some kind of higher power. Maybe one with the ability to give others power. Which, if the player does go to Earthbread and does in fact have that ability, could be interesting to explore.

It also implies, as mentioned previously that they don't understand how the gacha system works, and if we're taking this very literally.. does that mean we're technically abducting the cookies??? (I actually saw the theory tossed around during crk's early days), I get the vibe we're just kind of ripping them away from whatever they're doing at that moment, which seems a little.. rude.

I also think exploring what soulstones/soulcores are lorewise could be really cool. I think all the nonsense above would lead different cookies to investigate wtf is happening while in your kingdom, either to gain your power themself for nefarious purposes, or because they're completely freaked out, due to the whole weird ass summoning ritual that got them here in the first place (gacha pulling).

I imagine them intentionally going under the radar, since you don't really seem to notice their day to day activities there and they might be worried about what you would think.

Ngl, this could make a really good oneshot where the cookies investigate and it leads them into our world or something idk

Hydrogen Anon - I might expand on each of these ideas in other asks if you want-- if you have any expansions on this or have ideas any characters you write for I'd love to hear it. Cheers!!

I actually find the idea funny of the cookies doing little cookie things only to disappear and to reappear moments later.

But no I would also like to add the detail that some cookies don't even remember that gacha space kind of like here of what we think of aliens.

Like some cookies would disappear and everyone is just freaking but when they come back they don't remember anything but they feel stronger now. Or some will come back and just talk about where they were at and they felt some force. Some cookies don't think there is another exploitation and that there is no ther being besides witches.

I remember that you mentioned that MC helps the Main crew in battle, maybe that's how they e helps them she gives them a power boost.

I feel like even if cookies go under the radar MC might still be able to track them down. But when MC does end up in Earthbread I can see groups of cookies trying to track down MC because everyone wants that power boost.

Cheers! 🥂

#crk self aware #self aware crk #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #crk

133 notes · View notes

ourlittleuluru · 1 year ago

Text

Oh boy... Gacha has always been not nice to me. But for some reason, it decided to be இ௰இ Thank God I did not have to spend any more than one of the discount packs of just 15$...

I did my best not to just spam gacha right off the bat this afternoon, because one thing I realized, is that Xavier very much prefers to come home when it's nighttime here... Patience paid off ToT

Okay, long story time from here on~ ikz (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

Came home to see this man, as usual, sleeping on the table. I had to leave me game for a bit to pick up a delivery, totally missing whatever he said. So I only caught that 2nd image after looking back at my phone recording... was this a sign this whole time?

Anyway, noticed that my Signal Exploration thing was done, and a 5-star shard came out…?! Is this another sign?!

Y'all... You have no idea, how fast I swapped to the gacha, waited until Xavier's face popped up, tap on him for good luck (this is somewhat of a mini ritual I do for this gacha)

AND HE CAME HOME ToT I won the 75/25 pity and with no c**kblocking too!

Tap on him to give him kisses again after that because thank you for coming home ❤🌟❤(´▽｀)

His Memoria/Kindled is so adorableeeeee btw 😭❤ (ngl I wish it lasted longer but it was good enough)

MC was so... darn cheeky in this moment. It's cute. It really is cute. With grumpy Xavier too. ugh. my heart just. dying of cuteness

Edit: ALSO ALSO

MORE GOOD LUCK TO EVERYONE PULLING FOR XAVIER ToT hope y'alls get your sleepy bunny boi without pain (or at least not TOO much pain)

#xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace #xavier #shen xinghui #churambles #i was so afraid when i keep seeing all the Rafayel and Zayne's 3 and 4 stars at the start #then suddenly came so many Xaviers #man i had to close my eyes for a moment and raise my phone in the air #take a deep breath before continuing #and was hoping so hard to see the blue background with flowers

24 notes · View notes

pollen-blogs · 5 months ago

Text

Rants from a tired writer 3: Love Triangles

The Love Triangle; love it, hate it, it doesn't matter because we all know about it, and that's what we're talking about today! I'm personally on the hate it team and deem it as the worst trope ever created, and a legitimate reason to drop a piece of media that uses it (personal preference)

The main issues I've seen people bring up when discussing this trope are the following:

It's overdone and repetitive

The lack of agency from the "main girl" is grating at best, blood boilingly infuriating at worst.

It's very often the only source of tension that keeps the plot moving forward when the creator's favourite is SO obvious.

And one of my main reasons: Love triangles are not really love triangles but more like a love V. A real love triangle would be gay and/or polyamorous in order to be a real triangle.

Our brains like familiarity and tropes in media because it's easily digestible. I was a 2017 gacha kid who watched any hated child videos I could get my hands on; believe me, I understand! However, that repetition and predictability can feel annoying after a while when you can't ignore the problems that those copy pasted stories all have in common.

Times change and we start to notice that the girl backed into the top corner of this love triangle doesn't really make choices for herself as the narrative shoves her into the arms of the two guys fighting over her. We can easily get bored from the lack of any real tension outside of this mind numbing mating ritual that takes up the entire friggin plot when you already know who's going to "win" in the end!

Times change once again and we start writing love triangles differently, with a man and a woman having feelings for the same man. More often than not, that girl will be in the way of the perfect gay relationship just waiting to happen, and she'll be depicted as mean, shallow, even homophobic sometimes so our hatred towards her feels justified (bonus point if she's in an arranged marriage with the MC's love interest). Down to its core, the love triangle is a tired misogynistic trope, but it doesn't mean it can't be saved.

Having the men in the love triangle genuinely respect the woman they're in love with is crucial, and she needs to be able to make her own choices as well. How are we supposed to root for the relationship otherwise? There's no need for the two guys to fight for the girl like she's something to be won; if one of them is genuinely being too pushy and overprotective (usually the childhood friend archetype), then make it into a character flaw that he grows out of.

Now what if that over protectiveness was born from well-intentioned ableism? You get A Sign Of Affection.

Oushi Ashioki and Yuki Itose are childhood friends; Yuki is profoundly deaf and Oushi is one of the rare few she can talk to with sign language. Years later as adults, Oushi has shown significant trouble getting used to the idea that Yuki has changed and wants to be more independent now. He is used to speaking for her because he doesn't quite understand that Yuki being semi nonverbal doesn't mean that she doesn't have a voice and can't advocate for herself. Like most characters who fit the childhood friend archetype in a love triangle, Oushi became aware of his romantic feelings for Yuki too late, as she was already in a relationship with Itsuomi by then. Still, Oushi's ableism or disrespect towards Yuki, Itsuomi and their relationship as a whole makes it very difficult to care lol.

The whole gist of Yuki and Itsuomi's relationship is that they are polar opposites in every way; although we are only going to focus on one aspect: Itsuomi travels all the time and has seen a lot of the world by the time the story starts. Meanwhile, Yuki was very sheltered as a child and has a small social circle. The bar is in the fiery depths of hell but Itsuomi never isolates her; he knows how important her friends are to her considering she doesn't have a lot in the first place. He never once felt threatened by Oushi and doesn't try to end their friendship, on the contrary, he's even trying to befriend him. He has no reason to be jealous of Oushi because Yuki chose to date him out of her own free will, and he also trusts her decision to keep Oushi in her life as a friend. Now, as much as I still dislike Oushi, he did chill out in the manga and ended up supporting Yuki and Itsuomi's relationship because he cares about and trusts her (he still has a long way to go but that's a story for another day)

Wow, a story that features a girl in a love triangle actually having agency and the men around her respect her and trust her decisions? That's neat, but I still wish we could fix the misogyny problem with the gay version of the trope!

…Oh hello Imogen!

Ok, I have to admit I actually didn't like Imogen at first because of her comments towards Tara and Darcy, but boy am I a sucker for some good old character development!

Say what you want about Heartstopper (actually, don't, I don't want to hear from Heartstopper haters anymore lol), but Imogen is such a breath of fresh air amongst all the mlm love triangle stories where the straight girl who falls in love with one of the gay men ends up getting portrayed as evil or homophobic ("I'm not like, homophobic⚆_⚆… I'm an ally!(●'◡'●)") (ps: Yes, I know Imogen isn't straight lol)

In an interview Rhea Norwood even confirmed (more or less) that Imogen never had feelings for Nick and there's a chance she thought she did because he was the only guy in their friend group who didn't make her feel uncomfortable or push her boundaries, she just didn't realise that's what it was. Anyway, thank you Imogen for proving writers don't need to villainise women in order to write a queer love triangle.

Well, my yapping has come to an end and I have said my peace. Good luck with your writing :)

TL;DR= Keep misogyny away from your writing and you should be good

#rants from a tired writer #my last post about this was 5 months ago whoopsies #love triangle #writeblr #writing #a sign of affection #yubisaki to renren #heartstopper

4 notes · View notes

selfcare-slenderman · 7 months ago

Text

Hello? I do hope we-... I? haven't missed much. Apologies for my sudden absence, but I couldn't afford to have any interruptions with a ritual like that.

Speaking of ritual, I should introduce my new identity, hm? Selfcare and Seraphine have become one person, and that person is me. My name is Serinne.

Is "pleasure to meet you" an appropriate greeting if I already know you, and you already know me? I have no idea, hahah ^^

yippee!!!! okay so mod here to explain if this doesnt make sense, Selfcare and Seraphine fused! Serinne remembers both of their memories as her own (which can get very confusing for her tbh)

also! this is what she looks like! i made her in gacha life 2!

#miss serinne

3 notes · View notes

undead-cypress · 2 years ago

Text

What kind of ygo decks would the P3 characters have, because I need to cook my own special interest food (note that I do not play the actual card game and have only watched the first series, season zero, and the manga so I have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about):

Mc/femc: obviously cheating if I say they can play any deck, but I see them defaulting to a creepy occult/death deck, like Bakura. Uses polymerization and ritual cards liberally. OR millennium duel Yugi's deck.

Yukari: HARPY LADIES

Junpei: yeah flame swordsman he has a Joey deck

Akihiko: God what's his name. Valon? Season 4 motorcycle Aussie dude who punches people. He has his deck

Mitsuru: Amazon deck (Season 2 Mai)

Fuuka: when I played duel links I often got my ass kicked by the naturalia or whatever it's called combo. On turn 1. She has that. And Jinzo

Aigis: hmm I don't want to say that one guy in the big 5 who's really into robots because I don't like him. I could see her running a heroine or holy knight deck tho? Like Serenity in that one episode. Or a guardian deck, like season 4 Raphael

Shinjiro: for shits and giggles I'm gonna say he has a zombie deck. There's a pumpkin involved what's not to love

Ken: he plays like Odion/Rishid in that half his cards are trap cards but he really REALLY actually wants to use Jaden's deck he's been secretly building

Koromaru:

Chidori: witch/sorceress deck

Jin: he'd have all of Joey's gambling cards. Oh God he runs a gacha deck. Oh no so that's what's in his briefcase. Oh god

Takaya: .....Noah's deck

Elizabeth/Theodore: Exodia

More thoughts:

Mitsuru's dad runs the Kaiba deck (sans the blue eyes, since only Kaiba can have them)

Ikutsuki can't play card games

They built a little doggy duel disk for Koromaru. His little wings are like those season 5 wrist plates they summoned monsters with

Ryoji can't play card games either but he'd 100% use destiny board. Low hanging fruit but come lets be real.

#i dont know anything about the card game dont @ me #i just like the show #kei's persona 3 headcanon hr

17 notes · View notes

centrally-unplanned · 9 months ago

Text

The Soviet Union also had massive state-run lottery systems. They used them to fund say sports budgets, specific state projects - the 1980 Olympics was substantially paid for by lottery tickets - and at its peak the majority of the country was buying tickets periodically. One of my favourite Soviet experiments was the "lottery bond" - instead of selling treasury bonds with a defined interest rate, you sold bonds with a 0% (or low) interest rate but with an attached lottery ticket that could win a big payout. This is still you paying for a ticket, since after you could be getting interest on your investment, but at least you didn't lose the principal. Though really in the USSR's case it was more "the state prohibits you from having alternative investment options in order to tax-without-calling-it-that". Late USSR finance is in so many ways a system happy to engage in rent extraction from vices, and gambling was no exception.

Though ofc it isn't like western liberal nations don't also have state run lotteries, and the USSR also did say lotteries for famine relief. And meanwhile it isn't "better" that a private company gets profit over a state from a tax on human weakness, they both suck. "Socialism" wouldn't/didn't in any way fix this issue, instead you should say human nature is sticky and hard to systematize against. But yes, the USSR absolutely, 100%, would have had state-run gatcha systems - and therefore state-sanction S-Rank Waifus, also known as the greatest timeline.

On the object level topic I will continue to reiterate that people like gacha games and so many reactions against them are knee-jerk. Games cost money to make, and a games-as-service model will not run on a one-time purchase fee, the financial model doesn't add up. You should instead compare gacha to monthly fee MMOs, and what history has shown is consumers vastly prefer "freemium" where their pay is for concrete in-game bonuses over pay-to-play because it simplifies the value of the purchasing decision & allows for far superior game ecosystem onboarding. Plus people actively like gambling and the "stretch" of gameplay imposed by arbitrary time-gated resources caps, game-as-daily-ritual vs 20-hour one-off grind. You cannot replace this game genre with a different genre players don't like and call it a problem solved.

Which of course is not to say the games are someone above criticism or whatever, many do also do exploitative things like obfuscate prices via multiple currencies operating at opaque exchange rates, exploit sunk cost fallacy to ratchet up prices in late-game, etc. But by no means do all games in the genre do that, and if you forced all gatcha to have say unified currencies or even caps on weekly money spent (good ideas, execution aside), they would still be gatcha games. And they would still be super popular gambling machines, often beating out the competition. I don't think most of the opponents would be appeased by that.

if we lived in a socialist society, phone games would be better

#Ofc fine to have a “i want to ban all gambling" stance - I am even sympathetic - but you can't pretend that the gambling isn't the point #Personally I find gatcha better morally than actual lotteries since they aren't trying to trick you into thinking you will net profit #I wrote a big undergrad research paper once on the USSR lottery bonds - a very interesting system!

4K notes · View notes

spacedace · 2 years ago

Note

Prompt: Because the Infinite Realms exists outside of time and space, the Ghost King summoning ritual is akin to pulling a random draw on a Gacha Game. The stronger the king, the rarer the summon.

Danny is the strongest :)

I refreshed my ask box and hoo boy there are a lot more asks than I was expecting lol Thank you for the prompt!

“So wait, you’ve never been Summoned? Not even once?” Tim looked up from the case he’d been working on, blinking in surprise behind his mask towards where Phantom was lounging lazily several feet above the floor.

“Nope.” Phantom said, popping the P as he shifted around in mid air, long tendril leaving a familiar mildly headache inducing after image behind him as he did.

Tim’s brow furrowed. “No offense, but you’re not exactly the most secretive member of the League. How have you managed to avoid any cults getting a hold of your name to try and do a summoning ritual to capture you?”

Phantom’s grin widened, long fangs glinting against pale blue tinged skin. “I haven’t.”

Across the room, Constantine went very still. Tim slid his gaze back towards the monitor before him, glancing towards the file he’d been reviewing for the case. Zantanna’s report on how summoning worked within the Infinite Realm. How power affected the odds of being able to successfully summon an entity. Odds for most beings from Phantom’s native realm were about 50/50 on a Summoning Ritual working to pull the being to them. Those odds got significantly less favorable for the summoners the stronger the entity got.

But the entity always knew when a summoning was being performed.

“Phantom.” Tim said, slowly, turning back to the grinning ghostly hero. “How many times have people tried to summon you?”

The ghost hmmed, “No idea. If we’re talking just today? …actually still no clue.” Phantom tilted his head, considering. “But since we started talking there’s been at least a thousand or so. It’s slowed down a bit over the last few minutes. Kinda nice.”

Constantine swore a blue streak impressive enough to put Jason to shame and stood, leaving the room in a haze of cigarette smoke and exasperated mutterings of I do not get paid bloody enough for this shit and honestly? Tim thinks he has a point.

Phantom smiles again.

Well, Tim considers, at least they won’t have to worry about him getting yanked in the middle of a battle.

#spaced asks and ace answers #dp x dc writing prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #tim drake #john constantine #ghost king danny #it isn't said but its a fact lol #John had a eureka moment on just what exactly Danny's deal is and would like to be literally anywhere else now thanks lol

3K notes · View notes

idv-sunsxin3 · 3 years ago

Text

Random TWST Characters playing Genshin Impact Brainrot

Note// I only included some characters that I had brainrots about,,, sorry hhh;;;

{Scenarios/Headcanons}

___

Riddle finds Yanfei impressive that she's known as the character who acknowledges every legal rule by memory so far in the game-(but low-key feels uncomfortable by how the design makes her show some skin in term of critique-).

I think Riddle would internally cringe the entire Mondstadt chapter by how there are a lot of drunk people, and even an irresponsible drunkard bard of an Anemo Archon-/not slander intended but you know the gist-

Riddle going super confused when it comes to rushy, timed event games- such as the event where you work as a bartender at Angel’s share temporarily,,,, He also low-key wishing that those tea recipes do exist irl,,,, 😔

Cater probably wanting to be part of the Barbara fan club as he low-key finds her photogenic and adorable,,,-

Cater most likely speed running to get the entire teyvat map for background photo shoot of the landscapes djsjsjsjs-

Cater urging his dorm mates to do the gacha ritual thingy(where you put the cell phones next to one another and make a 10 pull in a row at the same time as a way to get higher chances to get a 5 star-)

Ace would definitely be a pyro main and troll other party members by making them burn through the grass while they're afk-

Deuce would be pretty much a hydro main(mostly to extinguish any fire Ace maliciously made-).

___

Ruggie's favorite character would probably be Xiangling, like, she freaking cooks delicious stuff,,,(Jamil would like her too-)

Ruggie is definitely in love with certain dishes that are in the game, wishing he could eat them in real life-

Yuu probably offering to look up for the recipes in YouTube and making them with Ruggie would make him so happy-

Jack frowning when reading through Razor's lore,,, 😔

___

Azul pretty much liking Liyue by how there are a lot of business and ship coming and leaving from sea ports continuously- Also liking the beautiful atmosphere it brings along with the music,,,

Azul low-key wishing he can interact the mora that is inside the chests he finds when opening them-

Azul and Jade probably trying to think of theories and search for more lore about Fontaine- (if they were part of the game, I feel like Octavinelle would be from Fontaine judging by how Fontaine NPCs dress and the archon there is the founder of the element Hydro-)

Jade dies in happiness while doing the mushroom spirit quest in Liyue's Chasm map- So many bright mushrooms,,,

I can see Jade using Xingqiu regularly-

Is this me or Jade would be interested in learning more about Fischl and Oz...-

Floyd probably have the urge to squeeze Yae Miko because of how 'annoying she was' when he first met her in the game dnednsnsnnne-

Floyd at Childe vc// Hey~ he looks fun to fight with,,, I really wish to squeeze him!!! :DD

Why do I think Floyd maining Klee would be the cutest but also creepiest idea I ever thought-

Floyd either likes to main claymore users bc of the way they spin- or he likes fast dips characters like Childe, Xiao, etc-

___

Rook probably committing bird abuse first before even doing quests- he probably nailed the achievement of shooting a flying bird in one try...

MOST LIKELY ROOK MAINING FISCHL-

I think Epel would favor Xinyan by her spicy character- like, look at her go and still being what she wants to be, she didn't care about what others thought of how people view her as a girl. That fact would make Epel see her as a role model,,,,

___

Idia probably simping for girlbosses like Beidou-

Idia is pretty much f2p because of the many other gacha games he’s playing or he whales like crazy because come on- those waifus and husbandos,,,, qwq

I can see Idia maining Chongyun-

Ortho sometimes watching his big bro play and going nuts over a failed 50/50 gacha- Might also play with him when helping him get ascension materials or fight bosses-

___

Malleus and Lilia remind me of Zhongli and Venti- probably some hints of Zhongli and HuTao dynamic-

Malleus wonderlessly going to different areas of the map, probably getting lost while hanging out with mutuals-(Usually would play with Yuu,,,)

Malleus pretty much sad or interested that he has to fight dragons like MORE THAN TWICE-

Like Ace, Lilia would burn grass just to troll mutuals-

Sebek going loud through vc, even louder whenever he dies from fall damage or some stupid cause of death,,,, 😔

Silver probably accidentally killing his character once for sleeping while a monster was taking damage on his avatar-

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst hcs #twisted wonderland hcs #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst scenarios #twst writing #twst #Heartslabyul #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #ignihyde #diasomnia

115 notes · View notes

lunarimpact · 4 years ago

Text

There are four major incarnations of Sayo. Four varieties which hold some vague resemblance to the original incarnation, a young girl I piecemealed from older OCs and thrust haphazardly into the world of Nasuverse, specifically Grand Order. Over time, of course, she’s grown into her own being, and over time she’s grown beyond being just a OC inserted into the Master role of a gacha game.

There is:

Sayo or Chandra Ikshvaku ; A descendant of Rama, believed to come from Kush’s line, there’s no surprise that her appearance mimics Rama’s incarnation upon being summoned. Hair the color of a sunset, a glimmer of gold upon her crown. Her eyes hold a similar intensity, a vivid gold. But she lacks the gentle warmth of Rama, and lacks any of the kindness. She’s already exasperated with existing, constantly teetering on the edge of self destruction. She craves her own end, and would happily sacrifice the whole of Chaldea to reach it.

She’s unlikeable and bitter, and yet she finds comfort in Rem’s presence. Rem, in a sense, becomes an anchor for Sayo’s wayward existence. But so too are Karna, Jack, and Dantes, until Sayo’s fragile grasp on what it means to exist finally starts to fray. Eventually it is Kama, Ashwatthama, and Asclepius who take up the weighty mantel of keeping Sayo from choosing a bitter end.

Her name, Sayo, points to her mother’s bloodline, as in a desperate attempt to rekindle their mages blood, Sayo’s father married a woman from Japan who had considerably potent mana circuits. Sayo did inherit these circuits, and it seems that her mother’s blood managed to rekindle the divinity which flows just beneath the skin. In doing so, it means that Sayo is often in immense pain, but she is constantly running at 150%, allowing her to handle the weight of her divine servants, while also allowing her the terrifying ability to pour copious amounts of mana into a servant, which may cause instability in their saint graph, potentially burning her servants.

Originally, she had no choice but to meet a bad end, however, I’ve grown fond of the idea of her settling down with a certain immortal and a lingering God from a distant past. ( Children only rarely included. )

Doctor Sanjna, true name unknown ; A mysterious woman made a member of Chaldea’s staff shortly before candidates began to be selected, she is only known as a lent agent from Atlas. A psychologist assigned to keep an eye on the mental health of Chaldea’s staff, she’s unwillingly deemed a maternal figure by some, and a bother figure by others. Notorious for stealing Dr. Roman’s chair, and waking up at the crack of dawn to preform pujas to Surya before jogging around the facility.

The truth is, she is a homunculus created by members of the fading Ikshvaku dynasty back in 1850. Within her body is, perhaps, the lingering traces of their fading divinity, and it is the only thing keeping her going. It is believed that her body is often used in rituals to commune with the Gods, namely Sita or Lakshmi.

Her only mission is to see the survival of the dynast bloodline.

Beast of Salvation, Beast of the End, Goddess of the Beginning ; The half-dreamed being slumbering deep inside Sayo, having been slowly built up over numerous branches and cycles. Eventually taking shape as an incomprehensible being, a multiarmed deity who has control over reality.

Chaya ‘Sayo’ Raghav ; The last daughter of a forgotten branch of the Ikshvaku dynasty, Chaya "Sayo" Raghav has taken up a life of solitude and, more so, nomadic lifestyle, traveling far and wide, ever on a jokingly claimed pilgrimage. Having an affinity for specific magical and divine beasts, it's no wonder she finds herself drawn to the claims of an immortal who bears a striking resemblance of Shiva. In her quest to prove or disprove his existence, she stumbles upon the truth of Gods walking among mortals.

In this case, Sayo is a pseudonym used to hide her identity from those who may want to track her down and harm her. She picked the name from an anime she chanced upon, but she has no actual attachment to it, considering it but a throw away.

#Sayo ( master )#Sayo ( doctor )#Sayo ( Beast )#Chaya 'Sayo' Raghav ( modern )#writing ; meta

9 notes · View notes

yourubersawcrit · 2 years ago

Text

James said yes, so...

How good are the TF2 mercs on gacha games?

First of all, we have to specify the hypothetical limits! Most gacha games have a guarantee after 100 pulls. But we'll use the 180 guarantee with a 50/50 chance to get the limited character or weapon after 40 to 100 pulls! One can always pull more for copies that make those characters stronger, but at the cost of dealing with the 50/50 again.

There are single pulls, which give you the chance of getting good or the limited characters consecutively, though it's very random. 10 pulls have a guarantee for a good character, and you can get so many copies on those 10!

Pyro is one of the luckiest, with no doubt! They are always pulling for the most beautiful —in terms of outfit design— characters and gets them usually at 50 to 70 pulls, winning the 50/50s. Never gets a copy though. Only one time they weren't able to get a character and had to spend some money; Pyro is still mad about it, and the rest of the mercs make fun of them losing their F2P status.

Demo and Soldier are those players that make reunions every time a new cool character or a returning one appears, for them to pull together on a circle; they think it makes them luckier! Which, funnily enough, helps, as they win most 50/50s with copies on the same 10 pull. And if that doesn't work, they spend money, too much even. Both tend to pull for big DPSs with AoE damage just for the fun of it.

Heavy is more inclined to characters with consisting damage, which are not usually made. He's a saver, checking the Betas and thinking of the ideal synergies to deal incredible damage! Since he waits for said characters, Heavy tends to get copies at a regular pity —70 to 90 per copy—. F2P and proud of it.

Engineer, oh, he's the nerdiest theorycrafter! If a merc wants to know about a character's maximum potential and synergies, they go to Engie and ask him, he'll make any character work and that's a threat. He is lucky in general —50 to 80 pulls, loses some 50/50s—, sometimes will go for copies if he finds it necessary to min-max. Small spender.

Sniper is the biggest F2P ever. Most of the time he's busy, so he doesn't farm much to pull for the characters he wants, tells the team that is not a big deal and cries about it inside his van. After that, he goes to a special location in game to make a so-called "pull ritual" to give himself luck. If he doesn't get the character he farms until feeling burnout. Sniper's luck is so unpredictable that it gives Medic a heart attack.

Speaking of Medic... He is the luckiest, that's it. He says to the team that it's not a big deal to take the gacha seriously while getting a limited character at his 50th single random pull, and then gets a copy on another single; that happens frequently and the other mercs hate him for it so much. One of his best moments was when he got four different limited ones on a 10 pull. F2P by the way, as well as a saver and theorycrafter.

Spy, biggest spender ever. He loves the luxury of having characters with all the copies as well as costumes and weapons! The problem? His luck is abysmal to the point of even being laughed at —that's why he actually spends money on those games—, always hits hard pity at 150-180 pulls. He loves doing showcases and oneshotting bosses! Likes the attention it brings.

Scout is just a bit luckier than Spy. He's cocky and prefers to do combat in game rather than to farm for characters, which ends up kicking him in the balls later. Tends to break his phones when he loses by throwing them away. One time, Scout was so desperate that Spy got frustrated of hearing his whining and gave him enough money for a guarantee. Nowadays, Scout goes for Spy's money whenever he knows he can get away with it.

And done! Wooo! I just love the silly idea of them going through the frustrations of gacha.

[sweating] Should I rant about how the TF2 mercs would play gacha games? I mean the gacha in specific and its rules.

#How do I tag this... Oh!#tf2 headcanons #tf2 #team fortress 2 #[sigh] I still remember that time my IRL friend wanted to dismember me when I got a one time character on my first 10 pull <3 #And that happened twice!#Yes chat; I gave Medic my usual luck. it's funny on that way #I don't call myself a lucky gacha bastard for nothing heh!#hal by themselves #stuff i write

10 notes · View notes

corpsentry · 5 years ago

Text

fandom: haikyuu!! rating: teens pairings: atsumu/hinata, thomas/inunaki, gen stuff characters: the entire msby black jackal starting lineup, but with a heavy narrative focus on meian notes: quarantine fic, stuck in a mountain lodge fic, quarantined in a mountain lodge fic, ensemble dynamics

Nature is healing, the birds are returning, and Miya Atsumu is setting the kitchen on fire.

ao3 mirror

Every evening at six, they have the Animal Crossing debate.

“So,” begins Atsumu. He raps the whiteboard he stole from the hidden walk-in closet. He makes eye contact with each of them in turn except for Inunaki and Thomas and Sakusa, because Inunaki is asleep on Thomas’ shoulder and Thomas is having an existential crisis and Sakusa is studying his nails.

“So,” Shouyou parrots back. Shouyou is the only reason the Animal Crossing debate hasn’t devolved into an Animal Crossing dictatorship. He leans forward in his seat, brushing elbows with Bokuto who is distracted. Bokuto’s Skype hasn’t been working properly all day.

Feeling validated, Atsumu clears his throat. He gestures at the contents of the whiteboard which include his obscene monthly paycheck and Raymond and a list of every online gaming store in Japan.

“Today’s question.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Should I spend a hundred thousand yen—“”

“—Objection your stupid honor, no—” Sakusa.

“—On the Animal Crossing switch which comes with a tempered glass screen protector and the Animal Crossing pouch and the Animal Crossing: New Horizons game and a laminated mini-poster of Raymond or should I—”

Thomas nudges Shuugo’s shoulder. “Is he actually sleeping,” he whispers frantically.

Shuugo glances over at Inunaki. He’s jammed into the side of Thomas' sweater and crunching something imaginary between his teeth. He doesn’t look like he’s thinking of killing someone or thinking of killing someone.

“Yes,” Shuugo whispers back.

“—and destroy the garden,” Atsumu concludes.

The sound of something creaking above them. Bokuto thinks there’s a ghost haunting the attic. Shuugo thinks it might actually be Bokuto haunting the attic. He is simply unaware of the possibility.

“No,” Shouyou says brightly.

“Yes,” Bokuto says distractedly.

Atsumu begins to lean against the whiteboard in an unconscious bid to look like he has everything under control. “What.”

“Don’t destroy the garden and don’t buy the switch,” Shouyou clarifies.

Doubt flashes across Atsumu’s face even though Shouyou has said no to him every single day this week and last week and the week before that as well. Sakusa has produced a nail filer and is filing his nails in his corner of the sofa. Inunaki’s eyes are wide open and he’s looking at Thomas like he wants to kiss him or kill him. Thomas is looking at Shuugo like he wants to kill him.

“Meian-san.”

“Shouyou.”

“Atsumu.” Shouyou is the only reason Atsumu is still sane and also the only reason Atsumu is not quite sane anymore but sort of just dragging himself through each day with his face on the floor.

Sakusa has begun to file the sofa. Atsumu’s whiteboard slides three meters to the left, yanking him off-balance with it. Bokuto gives his phone a half-hearted shake and it bounces harmlessly off Thomas’ shoulder. Inunaki hisses at him.

Atsumu tries again, “is this about the garden or is it about the Animal Crossing. Hey, Shouyou. Are you listening.”

“Where are you going, Meian-san?” Shouyou asks, serene as a Buddha.

“To the bathroom,” Shuugo says after a pause, and then heads up the stairs and locks himself in his room and plays Candy Crush on his phone until he falls asleep.

The lodge was initially Shouyou’s idea. His mother’s friend’s uncle owned a lodge at the base of Mount Fuji and while they usually would have rented it out to AirBNB guests at this time of the year, the website had recently been banned in Japan due to transparency issues and they were good law-abiding citizens, so they stopped. Since they had the space anyway, they said to Shouyou’s mother over tea and rice crackers, would her son be interested in spending a few weeks in the mountains? Of course, there would be a generous discount.

So Shouyou said yes but only discovered later, as he had not thought to ask, that the lodge was not the size of a 2LDK apartment but a small castle. There were six bedrooms and eight bathrooms and a large industry-grade kitchen that contained three bread machines and a brick kiln. There was a barbecue pit in the backyard. They discovered an ouija board presumably left behind by previous inhabitants, Shouyou texted all of them about it over the weekend, and so the deal was done.

Shouyou would go because he liked the mountains and resonated with them spiritually, having cycled up and down one for most of his high school career. Atsumu would go because Shouyou was going. Bokuto would go because two of his friends were going and Sakusa would go because he was promised his own room and two bathrooms, and he was interested in the ouija board. Inunaki would go because he liked mountains despite being the emotional equivalent of a volcano, and Thomas would go because he was still caught in the middle of their fucked-up courtship ritual that had been going on for years now. Shuugo was hired as parental supervision. The Black Jackals could not afford to have their starting lineup incapacitated in the mountains before the next season began.

Naturally this all took place in early March, before the entire situation devolved into mass hysteria and toilet paper shortages and nature’s attempt to reclaim the gacha machines from mankind or whatever. When they arrived at the lodge COVID-19 was only on Sakusa’s mind, because Sakusa read the news religiously. It was also occasionally on Atsumu’s mind, as Atsumu was prone to bouts of sudden and sustained anxiety. However, every time Atsumu made eye contact with Shouyou the matter would be expelled from his mind as a ball, hit out of the ballpark, lands in some deserted parking lot several cities away. So Shuugo figured they would be all right.

Then, of course, they were extremely not all right. But by then all the local supermarket ladies had already fallen in love with Thomas and his cashmere sweaters and his smile. Surely they wouldn’t let them go back down the side of the mountain without trying to tear off a limb. Or two. Or twelve. So they stayed.

On Friday, Atsumu breaks the washing machine. He claims it broke by itself and that he was simply pressing buttons like a good Japanese citizen but Sakusa later extracts the truth from him, which is that he bodyslammed the washing machine before he tried pressing buttons like a good Japanese citizen. Which makes him a shitty fucking Japanese citizen, said Sakusa. Anyway all the buttons he pressed were the wrong ones, so it wouldn’t have made a difference. Shouyou calls his mother’s friend’s uncle to apologize for the washing machine in the evening and he doesn’t seem that bothered. It was turning twenty-five this year, apparently, which made it an immortal god of a washing machine. Someone would have had to put it in its place eventually.

They don’t tell Atsumu that he broke the twenty-five-year-old washing machine though, because Sakusa’s mad about having to hand-wash all their clothes from now on. Additionally, Atsumu seems to be experiencing emotions in relation to the washing machine as he doesn’t host the Animal Crossing Debate for the first time since they got stuck here, and goes to sulk in Shouyou’s room instead.

Shuugo knocks on Shouyou’s door after dinner, meaning to check on him and make sure Atsumu hasn’t ripped a hole through the bedroom wall that Shouyou shares with Bokuto. He’s a little concerned but not too concerned. There are sounds coming from behind the door, which means that he still has at least one spiker or one setter.

He sticks his head inside. He sticks his head back outside.

He regrets everything.

“Meian-san,” Atsumu says several moments later, fully-clothed and experiencing even more emotions than he had been experiencing when he first found out about the washing machine.

“No.”

“...I’m sorry.”

Shuugo doesn’t have it in him to meet his eyes. He passes along Sakusa’s message with less bite than Sakusa had probably intended, and then goes to the kitchen to look for a drink.

NINTENDO SWTICH @m_atsumu

You Will Never Know The Value Of A Moment Until It Becomes A Memory.

“What do you mean you finished all the peach purunto.”

“Uh.” Thomas stares at his feet. He stares at the ant presumably crawling on the floor beside his feet. He stares at Shuugo, who is watching him from the big sofa in the living room and drinking a pouch of grape purunto. “Um,” he repeats in a slightly higher-pitched voice.

Shuugo salutes him for good luck and Thomas' shoulder twitches in response. He can’t make any big movements now or Inunaki will be startled and then try to kill him. This has been the state of affairs between them for a while now, since the Izakaya in December where a waiter tried to take Thomas home and Inunaki almost set their private room on fire.

“I’m sorry,” he tries.

The truth is Thomas doesn’t even like peach purunto. He likes grape purunto because he thinks the peach-flavored stuff doesn’t taste artificial enough. Everyone on the team knows this except for Inunaki, who Thomas has been engaging in a fucked-up courtship ritual for the last fifty-nine years. Everyone also knows that Shuugo and Bokuto have been stealing things from the fridge after midnight and not Thomas, who sleeps like a newborn baby placed in subzero temperatures and thus retires to bed early every night. But Thomas isn’t in a position to tell Inunaki anything.

That being said, neither is Shuugo. Shuugo squeezes the plastic pouch dry. He props his arms up on the back of the sofa, chewing peacefully on the last of his konnyaku, while Inunaki approaches Thomas and Thomas approaches the counter.

Thomas makes a sound when his hip bumps into the drawer. “Sorry,” he says again on instinct. Oh Thomas, Shuugo thinks wistfully.

Inunaki stares up at him. Shuugo can’t see his expression but he can picture it perfectly in his mind. It’s the same expression Inunaki wears when he’s about to receive a nasty serve. It’s the same expression Inunaki wears when he’s deciding what drink to get from the vending machine outside the gym.

“Peach purunto is my favorite.”

“I know.” Thomas does know. Poor guy. Shuugo sends him another prayer.

“So what.”

“What?”

Inunaki’s voice almost cracks here, as if he were the one being cornered and not the one actually doing the cornering: “Am I not your favorite?”

Thomas' knees give out. He slides to the floor. The two of them vanish behind the kitchen counter in a dramatic moment full of romantic tension and fear.

“Is that allowed?” he asks in a voice so high-pitched and breathy and small it probably wouldn’t register on a decibel meter or the Richter scale.

“Do you like me or do you not?”

Shuugo flops silently back onto the sofa and rolls to the ground, excusing himself from the room. He doesn’t need to watch this part.

Or maybe he should have because apparently Thomas said no out of embarrassment and Inunaki flipped him off and stole the third button off his shirt and now there’s a problem. Thomas takes a swig of his shochu mixed with grape purunto. “There’s a problem, Meian-san,” he says miserably. “I only have one good shirt. And now I look like a gravure model.”“Because of the button?”

Another swig. “The button is enough.”

Downstairs Bokuto is talking to Akaashi the shounen manga editor on Skype or at least trying to. Upstairs Sakusa is ransacking the hidden walk-in closet for more cleaning supplies. Last Shuugo checked, Atsumu’s room was empty. Shouyou’s was not. Shuugo is never sticking his head into anything without acquiring firm vocal confirmation of his safety ever again.

“Where is Inunaki-san anyway?” Thomas looks right through him to the other side of the world where he is probably having the time of his life in Paris.

Shuugo thinks about it. He sips at his peach purunto.

“The backyard?”

The story goes that they all wound up in a lodge the size of a small castle at the base of Mount Fuji but then the world blew itself up and everyone got sick. Their supervisors decided, talking anxiously to Shuugo over the phone, that it would actually be better for the Black Jackals’ starting lineup to hang out in the lodge until this whole thing blew over. Was that possible? Please, Meian-san? Please?

Meian Shuugo, being completely defenseless against the word please, immediately turned to Shouyou. Shouyou, being completely defenseless as a general state of being, called up his mother’s friend’s uncle and offered them a generous portion of his obscene paycheck. And Atsumu’s obscene paycheck. And all their paychecks, actually.

Of course you can stay, they said over tea and rice crackers that could not be seen but could be heard over the crackling speaker of Shouyou’s Nokia phone. We don’t really want to go up there ourselves right now anyway, what with the cruise ship and the epidemic and everything.

Thanks, said Shouyou. In the background Sakusa was making Atsumu sign a contract to stop using Sakusa’s second bathroom.

Are you sure you’ll be okay, Shouyou’s mother’s friend’s uncle added as an afterthought.

Shouyou laughed brilliantly and confidently into the receiver.

“Don’t worry, Kishimoto-san,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”

Bokuto video calls Akaashi the shounen manga editor every night. They’re boyfriends, so this makes sense. What doesn’t make sense to Shuugo is that Bokuto conducts these video calls in the living room. He has either not discovered the wall socket in his room or decided that he is above it. He has also either not discovered that Akaashi, his shounen manga editor boyfriend, is very busy, or has decided to ignore the fact entirely.

They don’t use Zoom because Akaashi the shounen manga editor has qualms about private user information and where his is going. But Akaashi doesn’t seem to say anything during any of their calls anyway, so no one’s really sure why Bokuto bothers calling to begin with. Is Akaashi the shounen manga editor even real? Is Bokuto imagining things the way he is the ghost haunting the attic? One time Shuugo walked past the sofa while Bokuto was on it. His laptop screen was blank.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto says, stretching the ‘a’ like a piece of taffy formed from several pieces of taffy stuck together.

“...About the ghost in the attic...”

“...Tsum-tsum broke the washing machine...”

“...I think his name is Jonathan...”

Shuugo gives Bokuto one last glance before leaving the living room with his chips. Who the hell is Jonathan? Who is Bokuto talking to? Today, as well, the mystery remains unsolved.

HEY HEU HEY @b_koutarou

MY SKYPE ISN’T WORKING SOMEONE PLEASE HELP

hey @k_tetsurou

Are you sure it isn’t working. Maybe the other person just doesn’t want to talk?

HEV HEY HEN @b_koutarou

SUDDENLY I CANNOT READ

They all find it unnerving that Atsumu politely agrees to do the dishes for the next two weeks as emotional compensation for breaking the washing machine. They find it unnerving that Atsumu doesn’t snap back when Sakusa declares that he is inferior to business majors over dinner on Tuesday. They’re all so busy being generally unnerved that it doesn’t occur to them that Miya Atsumu may have other plans that have temporarily deterred him from being an asshole, such as being an asshole at a later date.

“GONNA TAKE MY HORSE TO THE—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

“ —OLD TOWN ROAD—”

“WHAT’S HAPPENING BOKUTO-SAN?”

“RIDE TIL I CAN’T—”

“MEIAN-SAN.”

“THOMAS?”

“ATSUMU.”

Silence. Atsumu turns to look at them. “Shouyou!”

“Atsumu!” Shouyou takes a step towards Atsumu from behind the sofa, where the rest of them are gathered like one’s online shopping information hides behind a firewall. He holds his hands up in front of him, palms out, to indicate non-aggression. “What are you doing?”

“I’m washing the dishes,” says Atsumu, who has clearly given up on washing the dishes.

“And what are those?”

“Portable speakers. Found ‘em in the hidden walk-in closet.”

Shouyou tries to get closer but Atsumu holds up the kitchen hose like a knife and waves it at him. Every decent industry-grade kitchen comes with two meters of kitchen hose these days. It’s a necessary self-defense tactic.

“Come any closer and I’ll hose you. Even if you’re Shouyou.”

“Do you not love me?” Shouyou asks, heartbroken, probably.

“Does he really love him?” Sakusa comments from behind the sofa firewall.

Thomas and Sakusa exchange a look of equal parts horror and indifference.

“I love you,” Atsumu says, blissfully unaware of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s general existence at this time. He is in Clear Pain. The hose is trembling in his hand and Shuugo fears suddenly that he may let go of it. The water being emptied at breakneck speed into the sink can be dealt with later. If it decides to empty itself in another direction, they will need more than a sofa to save them.

“But I,” Atsumu lowers the hose, shuts the water off. His hands are still soapy and there’s an odd, unhinged look in his eyes. “I can’t wash the dishes in silence.”

Shouyou takes three steps forward. “Why?”

“Well, I mean.” Atsumu tilts his head to one side like a serial killer in a serial killer movie does in the moments before they jump the main character’s best friend who is dictated by cultural tradition to be the first to die. Or maybe Atsumu is the main character’s best friend. Or maybe Atsumu doesn’t watch any serial killer movies.

He tilts his head to the other side quietly.

“It’s boring?”

They let him keep the portable speakers.

Shuugo calls his wife and kids on Skype every other night. On every other other night he wanders around the lodge like a ghost until the early hours of the morning, thinking about unresolved high school conflicts and the next V League season and his grandparents up in Hokkaido. Sometimes he checks the attic for ghosts. Usually he doesn’t. He’s confident he’ll find Bokuto there one day.

“Why don’t you just come back?” his wife asked, the first time they Skyped. He had to explain that he trusted his wife with all his heart when it came to looking after herself and their kids. But, and Shuugo said this earnestly and passionately, he didn’t trust a single member of the MSBY Black Jackals to look after themselves, except maybe Barnes, who was not present. They were professional volleyball players, not professional adults. No one ever really becomes a professional adult.

“This is a good chance for them to learn,” his wife commented, patting the top of Kenta’s head like a buzzer in a gameshow, but more gently.

Shuugo shrugged. “This is a major historical event. They’ll learn some other time.”

Kenta pushed himself up into the camera and said something indistinguishable. It was about Doraemon or the cockroach infestation episode of Gintama and Shuugo wasn’t sure which. He waved back at his eldest son. His eldest son nodded gravely and was buzzered back into his mother’s lap.

“Say bye to daddy, Kenta.”

“Insect repellent.”

“Love you too, kid.”

Tonight is one of those long, sleepless nights. Shuugo ducks into the hidden walk-in closet to see what’s been stolen this week, makes a note of who to yell at the next day, and ducks back out before he can meet anyone he doesn’t want to meet. He checks the toilet paper reserves. He spends an hour lying on the sofa in the living room by himself, scrolling through photos of his family and his dog. His wife sends them every day except for Thursday when she has to catch the live simulcast of her favorite drama on NHK. Kenta looks like he’s managing; Kohki, less so. But then and again, Kohki is three.

He dozes off on the sofa. In his dreams he’s fifteen again and everything sucks except for volleyball, which he doesn’t suck at, which he’s the best at. There’s a boy he thinks he might be in love with but first he wants to get a popsicle from the corner store. Wait a minute, he tells the boy. I’ll be right back. He runs to the corner store and buys his popsicle and runs back to the place where he had promised to meet the boy and it feels like no time has passed at all. Maybe three seconds, maybe three years. But the boy isn’t there anymore. The sun is setting. The street is empty, and there’s a volleyball bouncing by itself at the far end of it, silhouetted in red and orange and gray.

In the morning he’s awoken by yelling from three different directions and the smell of something burning. It’s unbearably, saccharinely sweet so it must be Atsumu again, perhaps with the help and passionate support of Inunaki. The time on the clock reads something fifty-two and he can’t be bothered to squint harder. It doesn’t really matter. Sun’s up anyway.

“MEIAN-SAN.”

He clears his throat. “COMING.”

He sighs, shakes the cramps out of his shoulders, and heads off to save his kids. The ridiculously tall and fast and powerful ones with the impulse control of a flock of mature geese. The ones who play volleyball.

Inunaki wants to go grocery shopping. This is not news as everyone generally wants to go grocery shopping, barring Atsumu who has been living in a bubble of sustained anxiety since they got here and is only maintaining his sanity because of Old Town Road and Hinata Shouyou. But this week Inunaki seems particularly agitated about it. He starts the morning off by trying to make sourdough and destroys the first bread machine. He gets pissed about that and destroys the second bread machine. He pulls down the giant projector screen in front of the sofa and blasts K-ON at full volume all afternoon while Sakusa tries to film a skincare tutorial and Bokuto tries to nap and the whole house smells like sourdough starter. Shuugo almost regrets drinking his peach purunto. No, he chides himself. You will not regret what cannot be changed. Like peach purunto and sake parties. Like sake parties.

In contrast Thomas has always seemed the most hinged of the lot, though recently Shuugo has been approaching the astronomical revelation that this may in fact be a false impression created to lure you into trusting him with your life. After all, borderline-nonexistent impulse control is an entry requirement for all members of the MSBY Black Jackals except for Barnes, who is not present. Every once in a while Shuugo catches Thomas staring off in Inunaki’s vague direction like a chicken stares at a smaller chicken. It worries him.

Through the combined efforts of Shouyou, Bokuto, and Atsumu, they trap Inunaki in Sakusa’s second bathroom without Sakusa’s knowledge and convince him to watch a purunto infomercial on Sakusa’s laptop, also borrowed without his knowledge. The infomercial is something like ten minutes long. It’s a contingency measure arranged by Sakusa several days ago. If you need to stop Inunaki-san, he said last Friday or Monday or perhaps Sunday, dabbing at his cheeks with pore cleanser while Shuugo leaned against the doorway of his first bathroom and played Candy Crush. Then use this.

So they use it. Inunaki is successfully eclipsed from the equation and Thomas and Shuugo haul ass to the old Toyota parked outside and while Sakusa dreams of whatever Sakusa is capable of dreaming of, like clean oyster shells and hand sanitizer commercials probably, they drive down the side of the mountain to the supermarket.

Meian Shuugo grew up in a prefecture just outside of Tokyo. It was the kind of bland suburban neighborhood that wasn’t particularly interesting and contained only three convenience stores, located next to the police station, behind the police station, and several hundred meters away from the police station beside the supermarket. By extension, the supermarket Meian Shuugo grew up with was not particularly interesting either. It had all of the aisles a supermarket was expected to have but it didn’t have a playground for kids or a box television for kids or a giant stuffed Pikachu in the candy aisle. Shuugo, being a kid for most of his childhood, was unimpressed.

The supermarket in the town located half an hour shy of their lodge reminds him, acutely, of his unimpressive youth. He walks through the sliding glass doors and is assaulted with upbeat music, chatter, crying babies. Perhaps in another life he was born in this town and grew up bounding up the side of a mountain, doing mountain-child things like chasing beetles and building rafts to float down the creeks that were embedded in its face. Perhaps in another life he grew up the exact same person.

Thomas hands him a list, then goes to grab a shopping cart. They work methodically; Shuugo reads out Thomas’ neat, Sharpied-in handwriting and Thomas grabs things from the aisle at record speeds. Shuugo wonders, this week as well, if Thomas is secretly telepathic.

“Toilet paper, the eight-pack.”

“Got it.”

No, he corrects himself. If Thomas were telepathic he would not have said no to Inunaki, who clearly wants to resolve the conflict they launched in the Izakaya last December even if his actions seem to say otherwise. Thomas hauls the toilet paper off the highest shelf and deposits it, with care, in their cart. Thomas the shopping cart chauffeur. Thomas the good guy.

“You’re a good guy, you know,” Shuugo says seriously. There’s not much left on their list; eggs, sake, dried seaweed sheets for Atsumu who has recently added it to his collection of coping mechanisms he picked off of self-care articles on Buzzfeed.

Thomas the shopping cart chauffeur turns to look at him. “I am?”

“Course you are.” Shuugo squats down in front of the chocolate section. His hand hovers over the thin row of plastic Chocobaby’s. It’s Kenta’s favorite.

Thomas laughs quietly. “Inunaki-san doesn’t seem to think so.”

If he buys the Chocobaby he’s sure Thomas won’t call him out for it. But Atsumu might, if he gets jumpy enough and his brain decides to latch onto it. And Sakusa definitely will. And even if neither of those things happen, who will eat it?

Shuugo sighs. “No, Thomas,” he says, stands up, brushes off the front of his pants. He grabs a bag of mini M&Ms resolutely, dumps it in their cart. “He does.”

“He does?” Adriah Thomas, twenty-eight this year and six-foot-seven, tall enough to strike fear in the hearts of most modern modes of transport including the Boeing 377, looks at him quizzically.

“You’re surprisingly dense, Thomas.” Shuugo takes over his chauffeur service for the time being and wheels their cart down the aisle towards the frozen goods section. His starting lineup may not be fond of tiny unimpressive chocolate pellets but he knows for a fact that ice cream will make the next week that much more bearable. “Maybe that’s how you got this far in life.”

“What does that mean, Meian-san?”

“C’mon. Let’s get more peach purunto.”

NINTENDO SWTICH???????????? @m_tsumu

instagram user @joshokfine is the only remaining source of stability in my life. be like joshokfine. be better.

It starts pouring just a little shy of four in the morning on Saturday. Ordinarily one would be awake to witness this but they’ve been stuck up here for four weeks now, or maybe five, or maybe twenty-seven. No one sleeps when they’re expected to anymore except for Sakusa, who has packed enough moisturizing face masks to last him through the second coming of Christ.

So it starts raining and then the wind starts screaming and the windows start yelling and Shuugo is in the kitchen pouring himself something like his seventh cup of sake with sparkling fuji apple juice when Atsumu shows up at the end of the hallway in a giant pink quilt.

“Meian-san,” he croaks.

“Morning,” Shuugo says cheerfully, toasting him from the kitchen counter.

“It’s raining.”

“Yes.”

“It’s thundering.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Shuugo sets his glass down. He combs a hand through his hair and cringes. When was the last time he showered? Yes. No? He removes himself from the kitchen, steps out into the dim orange light of the living room. Atsumu has designer eye bags and designer eye bags beneath his designer eye bags. The kid looks like he’s been through hell. Or had a nightmare about it. Or had a nightmare about something else, like a pandemic or Raymond from Animal Crossing or breaking up with his boyfriend in the middle of a pandemic while still being without Raymond from Animal Crossing.

Shuugo wipes his hand off on his shirt and clears his throat. “What can I do for you?”

The lodge is fucking huge. That was the first thought Shuugo had when they’d finally finished lugging all their shit up the side of the mountain and Thomas’ old Toyota had been parked in the clearing outside and Sakusa and Atsumu were arguing loudly about optimal bathtub water temperatures just beyond the front door. Seriously, Shuugo mused, craning his neck, this lodge is fucking huge. The living room was not a living room so much as it was a giant open space with a vaulted, three-storey ceiling and spiraling staircases that led off on each side to narrower, but equally majestic, hallways. Carved into the eastern wall of the first floor was a large, industry-grade kitchen which contained a walk-in fridge and a brick kiln. In the center of the floor was a floral sofa.

They argued over whether the space that the sofa, and the accompanying automated projector screen and thirty-nine succulents, occupied should be called a living room at all. This went on for the first few days. In the interim Shouyou and Thomas explored the kitchen and Atsumu explored setting the kitchen on fire. Atsumu also explored the door at the end of the northern hallway on the third floor, and discovered the hidden walk-in closet that probably hadn’t been opened since the economic bubble burst in the early 90s. Bokuto explored the attic above the third floor via a trap-door in the ceiling and declared that it was haunted. Inunaki drank peach purunto. Sakusa found a hornet's nest in the woods nearby and tried to bring it back.

They never did get to have the full-blown debate about whether the sofa space should be called a living room, because by the start of the second week or the third or maybe the tenth, maybe the eighteenth, the world had stumbled backwards into the figurative hornet's nest of life itself. It emerged from the immediate aftermath covered in burns and uglier burns and violent, angry scrapes. As China began to pull itself together by the seams its neighbors both immediate and distantly-related began to show symptoms, keeling over in the dystopian-movie-dust.

Come April, they were all in the thick of it. Of what, you ask? No one knew. But they sure were.

There’s something about rain and nighttime that demands your attention. Shut away in your highrise apartments and your suburban houses, your grandmother’s old Japanese-style estate; shut away at home with the lights on and the world off, the world cordoned out; the rain is the only thing that reaches you. The sound of it. The pitter-patter. The footsteps.

Meian Shuugo invites the rain to shut the fuck up as he herds his starting setter to the sofa. Atsumu has been going through it for a while now. They all know this, the way they know he talks to his twin on Zoom some nights because he doesn’t care for private user information and what happens to his. However, no one mentions it because unlike Bokuto, Atsumu has discovered the wall socket in his room, and decided to use it.

“Shouyou’s asleep,” Atsumu explains and for the hundredth time or maybe the thousandth, he doesn’t think numbers are real anymore, Shuugo marvels at how tenderly he says Shouyou’s name. If someone had said his name like that when he was twenty-three Shuugo would have driven off immediately and bought them a ring or challenged them to a Beyblade fight. He wonders if Shouyou will do either of those things one day. If he’ll get the chance to.

Shuugo hums. The star of the lodge, beyond the brick kiln with the unidentifiable bones and the thirty-eight succulents, is the chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Usually it’s bright as ass but it’s raining outside today and it’s four, so they’ve got the lighting mode set to Orange And Moody. Which, Shuugo gathers, seems to be the correct setting.

Atsumu opens his mouth, still wrapped up in the giant pink quilt that he probably stole from the hidden walk-in closet. “I’m being an asshole right now, aren’t I?” he asks, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Not right now right now, if that’s what you’re talking about—”

“—Meian-san.” Atsumu is unimpressed and he shows it too much. If he wants to look unimpressed he should look dimly unimpressed or at most vaguely unimpressed, or he’ll come off as being over-invested in the whole affair. Granted, the kid’s always been bad at handling his emotions. But this is a moment of what Shuugo recognizes to be shaky vulnerability. Even for Miya Atsumu.

Shuugo smiles. “Yeah?”

“That’s not funny.” Atsumu sinks further into the sofa, vanishing between two very large floral cushions.

No, Shuugo has half a mind to say. You’re not very funny. I try not to tell you that because Sakusa says it enough for all of us but really, most of your jokes suck.

“Well,” Shuugo says instead, thoughtful. “What does being an asshole mean to you?”

“Uh. An inconvenience?”

“What does the current situation look like to you?”

“An inconvenience?”

Shuugo claps his hands together and then winces in very quick succession. If he’s judging this right then there’s a high chance Inunaki’s still awake thinking about the Izakaya they went to last December, and Bokuto might still be in the attic. He should stop.

“That’s right,” says Shuugo, not stopping. “If being an asshole is about being an inconvenience then the whole world’s being inconvenienced right now. In general. Does this look like optimal functioning to you?” He gestures broadly around him and hopes that Atsumu doesn’t think he’s pointing at the thirty-eight succulents.

“Because it isn’t. Everyone’s tired, Atsumu. Everyone wants things to start getting better.

“So given that we’re basically living in the asshole of the universe right now, I don’t think you’re being an asshole. Do I wish you’d stop listening to Old Town Road while doing the dishes? Yes. But do I wish Thomas and Inunaki would stop pretending they never want to see each other’s faces again off-court like the two main leads in a Korean drama? Yes. Do I wish I were at home right now in Tokyo with Mai and Kenta and Kohki? Of course.

“But no one gives a damn about what I want in the asshole of the universe. So no one gives a damn about you either.” Shuugo reaches for his sake. “What I’m trying to say is: buy your switch.”

He takes a sip of his sparkling fuji apple sake thing. He’s good at holding his liquor but the alcohol’s loosened his tongue and the rain isn’t letting up and it’s late or it’s early, depending on who you ask. Depending on who you are, and what you’re afraid of. He wonders if Atsumu’s still thinking about the thirty-eight succulents. The thirty-ninth has been missing for a few weeks now. No one knows for how long exactly. Time, remember?

Atsumu furrows his brows. He seems to be thinking very intently about something. Shuugo hopes it’s the fate of the universe.

“So, the Animal Crossing edition,” he says slowly, the color returning to his cheeks. “Do you think I should get that one?”

Around them the rain continues to fall. Every once in a while a bolt of lightning comes within an arm’s breadth of their tiny sanctuary away from the world and the toilet paper shortages and all the suffering and cruelty and unfairness. It lands at their feet. Light erupts from the ground like a star splitting in half and sticks to their faces, their hands, their teeth. For half a second, the interior of the lodge turns so white, it almost blinds them.

Shuugo wakes up at five in the evening on the sofa. His toes aren’t frozen solid the way they were the last time he fell asleep on the sofa. He sits up. Something pink and fluffy slides off his chest.

Inunaki is yelling at Thomas from the second floor. They’ve made an error in the toilet paper calculations, or someone’s used up all eight rolls in a week, or both. Inunaki’s disappointed and upset and he wants to get out of the bathroom. And he wants to talk about the Izakaya incident. And he wants a peach purunto.

Shuugo scrubs the heel of his hand down his face. He stretches his arms over his head. Then he rolls off the sofa with the quilt still drawn tight around his shoulders like a cape. And so begins another day in the life of Meian Shuugo, father and husband and professional volleyball player, and motivational speaker, and friend.

A conversation between Shouyou and Atsumu, as overheard by Bokuto who was taking a really big dump in (Sakusa’s bathroom) (but don’t tell him that) (no one tell Sakusa anything no really I will sic my ghost on you):

(Shouyou, I have something to tell you.)

(Let me guess. You ordered the switch.)

(Huh????? How the fuck do you know I ordered the switch.)

(You talked to Meian-san, didn’t you?)

(What the fuck. Are you telepathic?)

(No, Atsumu. I’m your boyfriend.)

A conversation between Thomas and Inunaki, as overheard by Atsumu who was hiding from his demons in (Sakusa’s bathroom) (who the fuck owns a bathroom anyway) (this is a communal household) (I am not hiding from my demons I am engaged in an act of civil protest):

(Inunaki-san.)

(I know you’re not the one who finished all the peach purunto.)

(Oh. Okay.)

In a surprising twist of events Sakusa has not only brought enough moisturizing face masks to last him until the second coming of Christ, but also stashed a metric fuckton of toilet paper in his second bathroom.

“I knew you would disappoint us some day,” he says neutrally to Thomas, who goes off to cry in front of the barbecue pit for twenty minutes.

“It was partially my fault too,” Shuugo says, feeling apologetic for some reason.

Sakusa watches Thomas go with the face of a merciless, unsmiling god. “But mainly his.”

In spite of the hornet's nest he tried to bring back in the first week, Sakusa consents to the public use of his second bathroom. He deletes the contract he made Atsumu sign that had previously prevented him from legally entering, but refuses to let them port the twenty-four toilet paper rolls jammed under his sink to any of the other bathrooms. It’s a personal thing, he says while peeling his third milk honey face mask of the day off with his fingertips. Who are they to complain? It’s his toilet paper.

Regardless, the toilet paper doesn’t grant him immunity from Meian Shuugo, who despite his stunning alcohol consumption record is in fact still the parental supervision figure in this household. This gives Shuugo certain rights such as the right to walk into rooms without knocking, though he’s decided to stop doing that and become a better person, and the right to use the barbecue pit after ten. Also, if he says they’re going to have a Ghibli movie night, they’re going to have a Ghibli movie night.

They have the Ghibli movie night. On Sunday. Or Friday. Or whatever. Whatever. They have it.

When Shuugo was a kid his family would sit on their ugly living room couch and watch Ghibli movies together instead of working through their disagreements with transparency and care. This is partially why Shuugo was not a kid for as long as most kids, but he can tell you exactly which scene comes after the fat cat in The Cat Returns gets stuck in the giant vat of pink Jell-o. He can also tell you, with full confidence, that Ghibli movies will do things to you. What kind of things, you ask? Does it matter?

Once again, they head into the hidden walk-in closet on the third floor and return with piles of blankets, quilts, and a bag of Calbee chips without an expiry date. On the way out Shuugo notices shuffling from above him and discovers, for the first and hopefully last time in his life, Bokuto Koutarou in the attic having a serious conversation with an owl.

“His name is Aka,” says Bokuto.

“Very sly of you,” says Shuugo. “I’m not going to ask why there’s an owl up here.”

“He only visits sometimes.”

“Okay. Great.”

Bokuto follows him downstairs. Shuugo picks a feather out of his hair and wonders if this is what zookeepers feel like. They collect Sakusa from his bedroom after peeling off twelve honey-and-lavender face masks, and make a stop at Thomas' room. The door creaks open after a few seconds and Inunaki sticks his head out. His hair is tousled and his eyes are puffy.

“What do you want,” he says.

“We’re having a movie night.” Shuugo resists the urge to pat his head. He may be turning thirty this year but sometimes he feels like he’s eighty-five and everyone else on his team is four and he has to do something to make sure they grow up right.

Inunaki follows him and Sakusa and Bokuto down the stairs and Thomas sneaks out of the room afterwards when he thinks no one is looking. They are actually all looking and rightfully so, seeing as it is Thomas’ room they just stopped by and Inunaki should not have been there at all. But no one says anything. Thomas tip-toes down the stairs in all his Boeing 377 glory. Inunaki goes to the fridge.

Shouyou and Atsumu have returned from the hidden walk-in closet and have started building a fort in front of the projector screen. The process consists of Atsumu lying face-down on the floor, motionless, while Shouyou throws things with a hardness rating of less than five at him: a blanket, a stuffed Pikachu, a bolster.

“What movie are we starting with,” Atsumu asks.

Shuugo salutes him from the kitchen even though Atsumu can’t see him. “Princess Mononoke.”

Atsumu lifts his head for a moment and stares past the floor-to-ceiling window to the other side of the world, where he is having the time of his life in Florence.

“Good,” he says. Then Shouyou throws a slightly larger stuffed Pikachu at him, and he disappears from sight.

In Atsumu’s words, everything sucks like fucking shit. In Sakusa’s words, everything’s piss-awful. In Thomas' words everything is sort of unbearable and in Inunaki’s words where is the peach purunto. In Bokuto’s words Akaashi the shounen manga editor is more stressed than the entirety of Japan combined and needs some time to himself. In Shuugo’s words, ew. Ew, ew, ew.

“Ew,” Atsumu says when the mountain god’s head gets decapitated and the screen fills up with the blue liquid-y stuff that mountain gods are apparently made of. Inunaki gives him a look that’s so utterly and completely disgusted that Atsumu excuses himself from being Shouyou’s armrest and stands up.

“You wanna fight, Inunaki-san? You wanna fight?”

Inunaki does not detach himself from Thomas’ cashmere sweater. “No.”

“Atsumu, I can’t see the screen,” Shouyou says sleepily, and Atsumu’s expression does a one-eighty off a cliff and dies.

“Oh. Sorry.”

It’s three in the morning by the time they get to the fifth movie. Or is it six? Shuugo decides it doesn’t matter and then pulls a fast one on all of them by putting in Grave of the Fireflies which, Sakusa complains, is too dry for this time of the year. In spite of that, Sakusa is the only one who manages to watch it from start to finish, his eyes glued to the screen while he files his nails discreetly in his corner of the sofa. Beside him Inunaki has fallen asleep against Thomas’ shoulder and Thomas has fallen asleep against the headrest, Sakusa having pushed him gingerly off of him half an hour ago. Bokuto is snoring loudly with his face in Inunaki’s armpit. Beside Bokuto Atsumu is asleep with his head in Shouyou’s lap, and Shouyou is mumbling something incoherently about rice.

Meian Shuugo reaches for the remote control and turns the projector off.

“You should go to sleep too,” he tells Sakusa. He reaches for the blankets and begins to drape them carefully over the sofa in criss-crossing patterns.

Sakusa yawns. “When do you think this will end.”

Shuugo shrugs. “Eventually.”

Sakusa inclines his head, then stands up and stretches. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” He collects his belongings from the coffee table and goes to the kitchen for water.

“No, thank you for the toilet paper.”

“Self-preservation skills. You learn them early on in life when you’re me.”

They stop having the Animal Crossing Debate because Atsumu’s switch arrives next week, delivered by a courier in an inflatable T-Rex costume who says he’s here on god’s business. But they keep going with the whiteboard and the six p.m. discussions and everyone jammed up on the big sofa in the living room. It still doesn’t feel like a living room and the lodge still feels like a castle, complete with ghosts and unidentifiable bones and the ouija board Sakusa’s smuggled away to his room. But when they roll up all the curtains, the floor-to-ceiling windows start communicating with god or something, and the sun does a cool break-and-enter routine that ends in fireworks. Everything it touches goes up in flames. It’s kind of beautiful.

“Today’s question.” Thomas raps the whiteboard they stole from the hidden walk-in closet weakly. “Should we have spaghetti for dinner?”

Atsumu looks up from his switch, and Shouyou follows. “Did you read my tweet?”

“Atsumu. I follow you on Twitter.”

“Oh.” Atsumu looks back down at his switch. On Shouyou’s insistence he’s recently downloaded Kirby Star Allies. He is surprisingly into it.

Inunaki raises his hand. “Objection your honor,” he says. “I don’t think we should have spaghetti for dinner because it sucks.”

Thomas makes a face at him. It doesn’t really work because he’s six-foot-seven and wearing a Victorian suit he found in the hidden walk-in closet, but apparently it works for Inunaki, who repeats, with more conviction, “it sucks.”

“It does not suck,” Thomas insists. He begins to lean against the whiteboard in an unconscious bid to look like he’s not emotionally affected by Inunaki’s words.

“Can we have rice,” Sakusa says. “We’re Japanese.”

“I’m not Japanese.”

“You’re Inunaki’s boyfriend. Honorary Japanese.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Sure it is,” says Bokuto, who is back to texting Akaashi for the time being instead of calling him on Skype. He now carries a power bank and a cable with him everywhere. To the bathroom. To the barbecue pit. To the woods.

“Why don’t we have both?” Shouyou suggests. Shouyou is the literal and metaphorical light of their lives right now, although Sakusa would be hard-pressed to admit it unless they gave him another bathroom. Shouyou also comes up with some of the most god-awful ideas sometimes. Like inviting everyone to a lodge in the mountains during the off-season and getting them trapped in a major historical event. Like trying to live each day to the best of his ability as if he’s Rapunzel from Disney’s Tangled and not twenty-three and severely, inhumanely sleep-deprived. He still wakes up at five-thirty every morning. Shuugo asked him about it once. He said he needed the time to meditate.

“Why don’t you just meditate later?” Shuugo went on, hanging over the back of the sofa and watching Shouyou channel his inner Buddha of peace for something like the third time that week. The sun had not yet risen but it was beginning to put in efforts towards it. A thin strip of gold ran horizontally between the land and the sky, dividing them in jagged and uneven strokes.

“It’s not the same,” Shouyou said, exhaling through his mouth, eyes closed. Shuugo wondered briefly if he was bothering him, then figured that Shouyou would tell him if he was.

“I need to be awake each morning to make sure the world’s still there. To say good morning.”

Shuugo picked idly at the upholstery. “What happens if you aren’t there?”

“Who knows,” Shouyou laughed, brilliantly and confidently, and in that moment Shuugo understood for the first time in his life how he alone had not succumbed to the timeless insanity of quarantine. Perhaps in another life Shouyou had been born tall and powerful and with the kind of instinct and skill that Kageyama Tobio carried around on his shoulders all day. In this one, he had seen the second coming of Christ once already, and built himself a new skin in its wake.

It was the routines. The morning meditation and the rolled eggs and the five-hour-nap in Atsumu’s room. The evening runs through the woods and the card games at night. It was Atsumu’s Animal Crossing Debate and the chaos that always followed, the chaos that generally followed the MSBY Black Jackals everywhere they went, as if they had been born into incredulity and outrageousness and passion. Passion for their sport. Passion for life itself.

They aren’t professional adults. No one ever becomes a professional adult. They try to be professional siblings and children and lovers, professional commuters and pastry chefs and shopping cart pushers. They try to leave their suburban neighborhoods and the boys they never get to see again behind. They try to be kind to themselves, even as the world begins to slide resolutely off a cliff.

And they fail. And everything sucks. And everything’s sort of unbearable right now. Even Sakusa has stopped checking his phone religiously. They’d rather watch Grave of the Fireflies ten more times than put on NHK news.

So ew. Ew at the present state of the universe. Ew at Shuugo’s hair. Ew at the amount of money Atsumu spent on his Animal Crossing switch which came with a tempered glass screen protector and the Animal Crossing pouch and the Animal Crossing: New Horizons game and a laminated mini-poster of Raymond.

And fine. Because what else can they do now but shut up and keep going? If there’s a God up there he’s definitely laughing at them with his hands full of nail clippers and clean surgical masks and health, cash, all the forgiveness the world needs right now. He’s probably making coffee as they run themselves into the ground, as they run their rivers dry.

So everything’s been going to shit for a while now. You’d think they’d get used to it, but they still haven’t. Which is to say that they’re still angry enough to fall in love and expect something to happen. Which is to say that they haven't given up on their dream of finding a ghost in the hidden walk-in closet. Which is to say that, in spite of the toilet paper shortages and the hornet's nest and the weepy sake parties, all the fucking weepy sake parties, there’s hope.

Are you sure you’ll be okay?

(The sound of rain, laughter, a ball hitting the ground.)

Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.

16 notes · View notes

risottostitties · 6 years ago

Note

Hi! First time here to ask haha! Any HCs for La squadra with an Otaku s/o? Like she watches anime and even buys merch in secret cuz she's scared they might find her hobby lame and immature? (Also,what will be their fave anime? And genre?)

Oh boy let me tell you I have some THOUGHTS about these boys and their taste in anime

La Squadra with an Otaku s/o

Risotto

at first he’s gonna be kinda confused, not gonna lie. Growing up the only ‘anime’ he knew was like, Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z but at that point he was too old to really get into Pokemon, and he never considered DBZ anime because it aired next to cartoons and stuff.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t appreciate s/o and their good taste. He’s the kind of guy who wants to learn about what interests the people he loves, and he loves you. So he’d honestly enjoy late nights spent binge watching your favorites.

Comes to realize that DBZ was low key his gym goals for the early years of him working out. If you bought him a ‘Swole like Goku’ tank he’d probably wear it to lift in, ngl.

Knowing your favorites he’d probably look to merch for his go to birthday or Christmas gifts. Considering the hobbies and interests of some of his co-workers, a scantily clad waifu figure is honestly a welcome change of pace.

Depending on the style or aesthetic of the anime (ie, is it goth) he would be down to couples cosplay, although he wouldn’t be comfortable with you posting pictures of his face or any identifiable features of him online

His fave is probably the original Dragon Ball Run, followed very closely by DBZ for the nostalgia bit. Something deep like Full Metal Alchemist (Brotherhood and the original) would also appeal to him

Is also a big fan of Beserk, disappointed by the anime. And Vinland Saga, not disappointed by the anime.

Partial to Princess Mononoke as well. He likes some Ghibli films, isn’t afraid to admit it. Thinks the score for Spirited Away is bomb af.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto doesn’t really get it at first either. Honestly? He probably didn’t know the difference between cartoon and anime until you explained it to him.

Unlike Risotto he might be a bit more judgey if you try to get him to watch some with you. So you gotta hit him with the real classics.

But similarly to Risotto, he at least makes an effort to try and indulge in the things you like. He might not be as patient, but he tries.

Probably wouldn’t do cosplay himself, but would hunt down exclusive seasonal merch to gift you. He’d take careful stock of your collections and do some research to pick out only the finest figurines and posters for you.

Would buy that hella expensive premium bandai apparel for you too, might even pick something subtle up for himself if he really liked the show it came from.

Also back on the cosplay note, if you agreed he’d find the highest quality cosplay possible and have you model some of his favorites for him.

(In particular if you were comfortable in fem clothing, Faye Valentine gets him going)

He loves Cowboy Beebop. 100%, wants to watch it again as soon as it ends. Everything from the characters to the story to the music and the fliud animation that has aged like fine wine appeals to him. Prosciutto is a man who likes the finer things in life. He oozes class. Cowboy Beebop oozes class and prestige.

Also likes Maasaki Yuasa. It was his idea to go see The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl in theaters.

In general his tastes tend to lean towards arthouse type anime or bona fide classics.

Pesci

Pesci knows anime and has been doing his absolute best to keep it a secret from the rest of the gang because they already tease him enough.

He’s one of those secret weebs, you gotta know where to look. Your best bet is to look at his accessories. Is there a watch with a certain symbol from an anime you recognize? A lanyard with a familiar print? Something subtle that isn’t immediately noticed by people not looking for it.

He has a secret box in his room full of blue rays from his faves. He watches them sometimes when he’s home alone. There’s nothing X rated in there obviously, he just doesn’t want people to know.

Thank god he has you.

The two of you probably bonded pretty fast over your mutual love of anime. Hell, you being such an open and proud Otaku probably gave him a bit of confidence in expressing his interests too.

Yall are the weeb couple. Yall definitely go to conventions together. Couples Cosplays, the whole thing.

He’s a sucker for Shonen just as much as he is for the really good heart wrenching painful ones.

He watches Boruto because he loves Naruto so much.

He would also tear up at Clannad.

Dango Daikazoku triggers almost a pavlovian response of heart ache.

So does Secret Base.

Ano Hana is probably his favorite, although even you’d need to pry it out of him. Its one thing that Prosciutto gives him shit for liking anime, its a whole different ball game if he found out Pesci liked girly anime

Fromaggio

He knows what hentai is. That’s about as far as his knowledge went before yall got together.

He thinks its pretty interesting though, so he’d be down to watch some with you.

Turns out he really likes action shonen. He got really, really into One Piece. Like, instantly. He likes the fact there’s so much to watch/read before he’s caught up too.

Another boy that would couples cosplay and be really into it. Especially if it continued into the bedroom.

He’s pretty go with the flow, so he isn’t picky about what y’all watch. Even if it isn’t his cup of tea he’ll sit through a few episodes on a night with you.

Fromaggio can’t tell the difference between a high quality figure and a shitty one. Its a crap shoot what he buys for you. Its more a process of ‘oh, so likes this character’ rather than checking the seams and paint quality and how dynamic the pose is/interchangeable parts.

Definitely buys way too much in the dealers room because of this.

He tries his best.

His fave is probably One Piece, liked bleach a lot but never read the manga, Yu Yu Hakusho is another one he really enjoyed. The Dark Tournament arc had him at the edge of his seat and hype as shit.

Illuso

Had a passing knowledge of anime before dating you. Knew what it was, saw a few of the mainstream ones, thought they were enjoyable, moved on with his life.

Your dedicated interest in anime would surprise him at first, because he always figured it was kind of a niche thing.

Would snoop around your collection of manga/figures/plushes in the mirror world while you sleep.

Winds up reading a lot of your manga like that (he’s good at reading in reverse because of his stand)

He finds he appreciates the art style of 80s-90s manga a lot more than he does the modern stuff. He really got into Ranma 1/2 and thinks Rumiko Takahashi’s artstyle is excellent.

If you asked him to watch Inuyasha with you he wouldn’t say no.

Probably wouldn’t want to do couples cosplay, but he definitely has an appreciation for you in cosplay.

You could talk him into going to a con if you caught him in the right mood. It’d be a hard sell though.

Has a surprising enjoyment for J-Rock.

Inuyasha is high on his favorites list, as is Ranma 1/2. Also a fan of Ghibli movies although its pulling teeth to get him to admit it.

Melone

This man has watched so much hentai in his life.

He probably actually knows them by title honestly.

He enjoys anime too, and is not ashamed unlike Pesci. Everyone already knows he has unconventional tastes there is nothing to hide here.

Melone enjoys traditionally feminine anime, especially Sailor Moon. That one has a special place in his heart as he has memories of his sister watching it with him when he was much younger.

Its more of a decompress thing than anything else, so he doesn't tend to favor heavy anime with dense plot and more mature subject matter.

He likes Maid Costumes. On you, on him, it doesn’t matter.

Doesn’t know a whole lot about merch and what makes something higher quality but he learns fast. Between you and him the Dealers Room at cons won’t know what hit them.

Is the type to preorder a figure he knows you’d like. And maybe one for him.

Buy him this and he’s putty in your hands for a month straight (SFW don’t worry) https://www.amazon.com/Bandai-Sailor-Moonlight-Memory-Locket/dp/B00UA9XB48

Sailor Moon is his favorite as I’ve said before, his favorite sailor scout is Rei. Is also a fan of Ano Hana, Violet Evergarden, and Toradora although he needs to be in the right mood to watch them.

Ghiaccio

He went down the Fate rabbit hole and we haven’t seen him since.

The gender bending grates as his soul but he is addicted regardless. There’s just so much dense lore that he can’t seem to stop going.

But also seeing how much care and attention is paid to the historical background of a lot of the servants is intriguing to him. Its the perfect blend of accurate and harem trash that infuriates him but also leaves him needing to know more.

He hasn’t played every game but he has Grand Order on his phone and has sunk an ungodly amount of money into the gacha trying to get his favorite (Its Jeanne Alter, in case anyone was wondering) and has seen all the anime (His favorite is the cooking spin off because its surprisingly calming to watch)

Fate Zero is probably his favorite ‘serious’ Fate adaptation. He enjoys the gravitas of the Holy Grail Wars (and hates how it was tossed out the fucking window in UBW/Stay Night/Heavens Feel) and the ritual aspect to the summoning and foreshadowing of future events as well as hints at a deeper magical lore in the universe hit all the right spots in his lizard brain.

The fact every fate anime has a different version of Saber (or a Saber Clone) pisses him off too.

He really loves Fate. And will scream about it for hours at you.

Getting him to watch or talk about anything else is like pulling teeth but he eventually relents because he loves you.

Its difficult to get through a single episode without him grumbling about something or another, but he tries once he sees its important to you. He does his best not to outright insult your favorite anime.

Can appreciate high quality merch as well, probably collects Jalter Figures himself.

If you’re comfortable in fem clothing, Cosplay Jalter for him and he will literally ascend then and there. Keeps pics on his phone. Would probably make it his background. He’s weak

Outside of Fate he finds he enjoys high fantasy shows. Historical fantasy pisses him off too much, and straight up historical drama would also have him grasping for inaccuracies.

Full Metal Alchemist is a non-fate series that he really loves because of the world building. The movie Maquia was one he enjoyed as well. Likes every Miyazaki film, don’t tell anyone. Cried (and raged) when Ushio died in Clannad.

In general he just likes really good world building. It has to be good otherwise he’s going to spend the whole time picking it apart.

#risotto nero #melone #prosciutto #pesci #ghiaccio #illuso #fromaggio #jjba #jjba headcanons #la squadra #not sfw #just in case #la sqaudra #la squadra x reader #x reader #jjba writing blog

93 notes · View notes