#difficult? yeah. but not normal??? elaborate.

[beifong-brainrot]

This line in The Terror Within:

Bolin: Mako, metalbending is extremely difficult. No one gets it right away, if they can get it at all! It's not normal! 

I could go on and on about this line. Whether it be in relation to Bolin, metalbending itself, Toph and more broadly the Beifongs or Weilin. The silly little ideas my deranged gay little brain can cook up...

[dollishmehrayan]

HOW DIFFERENT BATBOYS APOLOGIZE AFTER A ARGUMENT ── .✦

a/n: Lowkey I feel like I’m like slightest but problematic in arguments (not me exposing myself) but srs I got this request by a anon! (Here) So yeah tysmm, I won’t be writing the argument because lowkey, I can’t do angst at this time 💔😞

(Tags: how different batboys apologize after a argument)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

The "I'm Sorry, But…" Apology: Bruce’s apology might be a little stiff at first. He’s not great with words when it comes to his emotions, but he does know how to make up for things. His apology might start with something like, "I know I’m… difficult, but I didn’t mean to hurt you." The real comedy comes in when he tries to "fix" the situation by throwing money at it—like suggesting an extravagant dinner or buying you a new wardrobe because, "I know it will make you feel better."

Trying Too Hard to Be ‘Normal’: He might try to act like he’s “not Bruce Wayne” for a second, attempting to be goofy to show you he’s truly sorry. Picture Bruce awkwardly trying to make a joke: "I’m sorry I made you feel like I was ignoring you. How about we go out… without my bodyguards this time? You know, like a normal date?"

The Silent Apology: More often than not, Bruce will show you he’s sorry with actions, like preparing your favorite meal or doing something thoughtful (such as leaving you a handwritten note or taking care of something you've been stressing about). But if you press him for words, he might simply mutter, “I’m not good at this… but I am sorry,” and leave it at that.

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The Full-On “I’m Sorry, Please Forgive Me” Routine: Dick is extremely sorry whenever he’s messed up, and he knows how to make it entertaining. He’ll show up with flowers, chocolates, or maybe even your favorite ice cream. And then, with a totally sincere but dramatic flair, he’ll say something like, “Listen, I know I was an idiot, and I have no excuse except that I’m clearly emotionally stupid when I’m upset. So please, for the love of all things holy, let me make it up to you.”

Humorous Apologies: Dick might also make you laugh with his over-the-top apologies. Maybe he tries to outdo himself by setting up an elaborate “romantic” date, only for it to completely go awry (think spaghetti noodles flying everywhere or a very unromantic “romantic” location). He’ll laugh it off, saying, “Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly how I imagined it… but you have to admit, it’s unforgettable.”

The Super Dramatic ‘I’m Sorry’ Speech: After an argument, Dick is not shy about admitting when he’s wrong. He’ll deliver a heartfelt, exaggerated apology, something like, "I was a fool, and I see now that I was wrong. You are perfect, and I am definitely not. How do you put up with me?" Then, he might give you puppy-dog eyes, as if expecting you to immediately forgive him.

JASON TODD ── .✦

The “I Know I Messed Up, But… Here’s a Gift” Approach: Jason is quick to apologize, but it’s not usually with a heartfelt speech. Instead, he’ll show up with a gift—maybe something small but thoughtful, like your favorite snack or a new book he knows you’ve been eyeing. He’ll casually hand it to you and say, “Alright, alright, I messed up. But you know I’m not great at this, so here’s my attempt at being a decent human being.”

Comedic Self-Deprecation: Jason, knowing he’s not always the best communicator, might start with a little self-deprecating humor. "Look, I’m sorry, okay? You’re right, I am a jerk sometimes. But hey, at least I didn’t set anything on fire this time, right?" He’ll try to make you laugh with his inability to fully express himself, but you know he means it.

The “I’m Sorry, Now Let’s Get Back to Normal” Routine: Jason might awkwardly try to move past the argument, brushing it off with a gruff, "Look, I’m sorry for being a pain. Can we just… go back to how things were?" It's not the most eloquent apology, but it’s Jason, and it’s his way of saying he wants to make things right without diving too deep into feelings.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The "I Overthought This" Apology: Tim is a perfectionist, so when he messes up, he’ll overthink how to apologize. He’ll probably try to do something really thoughtful, like writing you a letter or planning a whole day dedicated to making it up to you. But the real comedy comes when he gets so wrapped up in planning that he’s awkward about it. "I, uh, made you a list of everything I could do to make it up to you, starting with… well, taking you out for dinner. You like sushi, right? But if you prefer something else, I can also—"

The "What Do You Need?" Routine: Tim might also take a very logical approach. He’ll ask, "What would you like me to do to fix this?" but in a way that makes it seem like he’s creating a spreadsheet of ways to apologize. "I’ve compiled some options for you to choose from. Option one: Dinner. Option two: A walk in the park. Option three: Let me do your laundry for the next week…”

The 'Nervous, Over-Apologetic' Tim: Tim is likely to be the one who apologizes over and over again. He’ll say “I’m sorry” about a dozen times in a single conversation, with increasing levels of anxiety. "I really didn’t mean it that way. I’m so sorry. Are we okay? You don’t seem mad, but if you are, I understand, and I’m really, really sorry."

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

The Reluctant Apology: Damian isn’t one to apologize easily, and when he does, it’s more formal. He might say something like, “I apologize for my behavior. It was uncalled for.” And then he’ll awkwardly pause, before adding, "I... didn’t mean to upset you." The comedic part comes when he clearly doesn’t understand how he’s hurt you. He might ask, “Is there anything I can do to make it right? Or… was this just another one of your moods?”

The Unintentional "Nice Guy" Apology: Damian will give you something as an apology—perhaps a bouquet of flowers or something that he “found interesting,” but he’ll likely be very stiff about it, saying something like, “This is for you. I thought you would appreciate it. It’s… an apology gift.” He’ll be surprised when you react positively, since he’s convinced that you’ll just think it’s lame

A Small Gesture of Remorse: As an apology, Damian might ask you to join him for a quiet walk or for tea, giving you a rare moment of sincerity. He might even throw in a joke (but it’ll be one of those very dry ones), saying, “The tea will be of the highest quality, so I suppose that should count for something."

[augustinewrites]

“just leave me alone!” 

megumi storms off towards his room as gojo’s easygoing expression falls away instantly, leaving you conflicted as to who you should check on first. (which is difficult to do when you remember that thirteen year old boys hate talking about their emotions almost as much as twenty-five year old ones do.)

you decide that megumi needs a few minutes to cool down, so you step into the kitchen first, where your fiancé is tearing open a new bag of candy a little more harshly than necessary. you lean your hip against the counter as he murmurs a greeting. 

“what was that about?” you ask. 

“he hates me,” he shrugs. 

“he’s a thirteen year old boy. he hates everybody,” you point out, but it fails to make him laugh like you’d intended. instead, his frown only deepens and he mutters,

“he doesn’t hate you.” 

you tilt your head slightly. “is that what this is about? me being his favourite?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs. “i…i just can’t seem to connect with him the way you’ve always been able to.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, unsure of what exactly you can say to make him feel better. it’s not like him to be so insecure. “you guys have had your moments.”

“not lately. i just keep pissing him off,” he huffs, unwrapping and popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “did i do something?” 

you open up the fridge to pull some ingredients for lunch, sighing. “i don’t think so, but nanami, shoko, and i were texting about it the other day—”

“wait, you’re in a group chat with nanami and shoko?”

“oh yeah,” you nod, setting your vegetables on the counter. “it’s mostly memes, but sometimes we talk about how messed up you are.”

he blinks at you a few times before muttering that you’d get back to that later. “what’d they say?” 

“they quoted a lot of freud, but the gist of it was that it’s normal for fathers and sons to butt heads.”

he frowns deeply at that. “so what should i do?”

“be patient. he’ll come around eventually.”

“easy for you to say,” he huffs. “you’re the only mother figure he’s ever known. he’s already had a dad.”

“satoru, he’s thirteen. he’s officially been with us longer than he was with toji.” 

you study his conflicted expression as he turns that information over in his mind. “okay, how about this? i was going to take him to the mall to buy new clothes after lunch, but why don’t you go with him instead?”

“that’s a great idea!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together excitedly. “i’ll take him to the bookstore too! can you find out what’s on his reading list?” 

“he’s not a little kid anymore,” you remind him. “you can’t just buy his affection with a new book.”

“i’ll buy him two, then.” 

“i love where your heart is at,” you start slowly. “but you just…have to give him space to let him come to you.”

he groans loudly, coming up behind you to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. you smile, tilting your head to the side and reaching up to pat his hair. 

“i guess this is good practice for when we have our own kid,” he mutters, stiffening when he feels your hand still in his hair.

“our own kid, huh? so does that mean you’re done bringing home strays?” 

“you three are all i need,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “whatever happens next…is just a bonus.” 

BONUS:

[you] [1 attachment]

[nanami] Why is he dressed like Gojo?

[shoko]: like father like son huh

[you] satoru had a quarter-life crisis yesterday. just a small one. 

[shoko] i’m not surprised. his life is like a shakespearean tragedy.

[nanami] That is accurate.

[you] he’s trying to bond with megumi.

[shoko] by dressing him like he’s emotionally unavailable?

[you] what does that even mean?

[shoko] the sunglasses

[you] ?

[nanami] Elaborate further, please.

[shoko] eyes are the windows to the soul. 

[nanami] (the more you know gif)

[a-pastel-edgelord]

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You're a normal person—so normal in fact that sometimes Shouto gets whiplash. Your family doesn't have the same kind of baggage his does.

Your childhood wasn't spent in the shadow of the death of your older brother who then came back to try and kill you. And it shows. You get along with your siblings, joking and laughing. Everyone is on speaking terms. Maybe it's because all of them are younger than you.

Your mom never scarred you. Your dad never beat you. You have no legacy to uphold.

"It's nice." He blurts out one evening after spending it with your siblings. "Your family is nice."

You shrug with a smile. "I like my brother and sister. They're great."

"Is it... difficult being the eldest?"

"Sometimes." You look at him, searching his face. Shouto knows that you must know—who wouldn't know—but he waits for you to elaborate. You puff out something between a sigh and a laugh. "We just have different parents."

He frowns, "But you have the same mother and father."

"Ah yeah. It's a thing we like to say." You jerk your head at the door that your brother and sister just left through. "I'm confusing you, aren't I? Seven years between kids isn't huge, but it's not nothing. I just..."

Shouto watches as you struggle to put this into words he can understand. He can't help, not like you do with him when he struggles to articulate his feelings. You're much better at that kind of thing. So instead, he places a hand in your shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, no. I want to tell you. To say it out loud—

"Babies. Babies are a lot of work. And at seven, you can do quite a few things independently. Like making your lunch, getting ready for school, walking home, picking up groceries, or studying."

It washes over him. The things you're not saying float to the surface. He's seen pictures of you as a child, as an eighth year old and now all he can think about is little you sitting alone at the breakfast table.

Little you walking home alone from school.

Little you being self-sufficient by ten years old because the babies were a lot of work and your parents weren't paying enough attention.

Something cold turns over in his gut. He was so convinced of your normalcy. Maybe even jealous of it at one point. Just because it wasn't fraught with trauma and loss, doesn't mean your childhood was an easy one.

Shouto wishes he could have been there.

[newkatzkafe2023]

What if wukong verse x wolverine reader who said they regenerate faster than a normal human and did not elaborate further until an enemy impaled them with a spear than pulled it out and return to sender

Wolverine is one of my favorite iconic X-man🤩

(Lmk Wukong) I mean that happens to him too but he Genuinely thinks you are joking. Until one day when he was on a date with you, and you both were attacked by another one of his enemies. All large spear was shot though your stomach making Wukong froze pale in his face. His life with you had flashed before his eyes as he watched you fall over with a traumatized look on his face, and he turned to face the Assailant and get complete bloody revenge on them. Although before he can he saw the spear be thrown back at them totally surprising him. After that Wukong vowed never to doubt or leave you vulnerable ever again.

(NR Wukong) WOW really that is quite something, no he totally believed what you told him. Yeah he doesn't totally believe and honestly found it to be far fetch, I mean he knew about your healing but He thought it was for scratches or bruises. Until one night Wukong had brought you out to a nightclub because it was his turn for date night, and soon found these guys Harassing you when he left to get a drink. He saw you growling and was immediately pissed and told them to go away, And It was no time before a fight broke out and one of them stabbed you making Wukong pale and angry. When Wukong ran to help you, you easily took the knife out and brought out your claws and shredded those losers. At the end he was relieved for you to be ok and found your claws to be attractive.

(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh please you don't have to try hard to impress him he loves you already🙄😒. You told him that you have a healing factor and Regeneration abilities one random day, but Wukong had a difficult time believing it but considering You didn't go further With the conversation, He thought you were joking. Until he quickly learn that you weren't especially helping him protect his master, had jumped infront of the monk and sandy protecting the Two and a pair of spears went right though your torso. Scarying the crap out of the pilgrims and making Wukong see black and absolutely murdering the bandits that possibly killed you but he saw the same to spears kill the last two and Wukong looked over to see that you were alive. Well you had Two large holes in your back and chest, but still alive and joined him in the fight after all that Wukong held you very close to him.

(HIB Wukong) You would put so much stress on him with your power and fighting style. You told him about your power of healing and regeneration abilities, but his stupid ass took it lightly. Which was a huge mistake on his part because when you guys got attack by one of those dragons you ran to get silly girl except you were ran though by a large claw ripped though you scaring Wukong and making silly girl cry. But you quickly bounced back and fought and killed the dragon. In the end, you had to calm down both crying daughter and your sweet traumatized husband.

(Netflix Wukong) WHOAAA HOLY CRAP his life with you just flashed before his eyes oh god its Terrible!!!!😨😨😨 you had not gotten around this big dramatic baby that you had regeneration powers especially during battle. Let me explain it happened during a demon attack at his village but unfortunately he was getting out numbered which led you to step in to help his sorry ass. Wukong never like involving you in any of these fights because he scared of you getting hurt or killed, but then you had bought out your own claws to take those guys out. Then suddenly a demon stabbed though you, making Netflix pale and scream at the sight thinking he just lost you when suddenly you yanked the Thagger out and threw it back at him. At the end Netflix never doubted you as he cuddle close to you shooken.

(BMW Wukong) Would absolutely want to test that theory but not at the expense of you life. Wukong was immediately impressed by your so called powers but he makes extra sure that you don't get hurt by himself and his enemies but it didn't stop the idoits from trying. You sat on the side as your husband was yet again challenged by another idoit demon who wants to get famous by being the monkey king. Until one had come with a partner and planned to kill you infront of Wukong, which is why an arrow was shot at you knocking you out of the tree you were sitting in. Wukong blood lost shot though the roof and he savagely attack the demon that shot you, afterwards you came out of the bushes pulling that said arrow our your midsection and your worried husband took you home to heal and rest.

(Destined one) Ohhhhhhhhhh, that's crazy because he can do that too, but really, the destined one gets very wary of your powers and abilities. A lot of it sounds like it hurts. So the destined one made sure to monitor you and would take extra care to make sure you don't overdo it, especially in fights you both would get into sometimes. Until one day their may have been an ambush and you were shot with a few arrows alerting and frightening your husband, and it was one of the rare times you saw him lost his temper and savagely fight the enemies who dare to hurt you. You were also quick to join the fight while pulling out the arrows that hit you and attack them back for scaring you poor sweet husband, at the end the destined one sat close next to you and wrapped you injuries why kissing and snuggling you.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[feartoxinjelloshot]

clipsverse SWAP AU! for fun! character elaboration under the cut because it gets kind of wordy:

selina's deal is pretty straightforward: she has the typical “saw parents die as a child" backstory, but she’s obviously not a millionare so she’s operating out of some kind of condemned underground parking lot... somewhere. authentic gotham grunge i guess. she’s a functioning alcoholic and i am obsessed with her. she's a hardboiled detective like batman, but tends to be a bit more cynical - sort of like if rorschach from watchmen was a normal person and also didn't hate sex. firefly is her "guy in the chair" similar to what alfred is to batman in canon, minus the surrogate parent part, obviously. public opinion is pretty split on if the bat is a man or a woman under there. i don't really have swap ideas for the robins ironed out, but i'm thinking that cass and stephanie are her robin and red hood equivalents (cass being dick, stephanie being jason). cass would have an allblack bird theme going on, so she might be "crow" or "blackbird" instead of robin. dunno what stephanie's red hood rendition is like. purple hood? i'll figure it out eventually.

bruce’s parents are alive, but he has a terrible relationship with them and with his own wealth so he mitigates the guilt complex by dressing up as a cat to steal and redistribute resources to people who actually need it. he could probably do that in daylight but there is something very wrong with him. i don't think his dumb slutty playboy persona is entirely genuine even without his parents' deaths, but he does lean into it more and incorporate parts of it into his vigilante persona over time. i think this version of bruce is just generally very lonely under the surface. he tries to be normal in his daytime life and he's very bad at it - theft aside, in a certain sense being the cat(man? woman?) is his own break for freedom; he felt a need to plunge himself far into the deep end of what normal society calls a 'freak'. ...writing it out like this, we're probably lucky he didn't start killing people. fortunately batman isn't really that kind of guy in any universe.

meanwhile on the other side of the rails: ivy! her deal is slightly unformed right now due to the fact that the hatter and the joker also swap places in this au - so the hatter is a dangerous, evil mastermind intent on controlling gotham to suit their whims, and the joker is... just a harmless silly little guy. yeah. i don't have swap-hatter's exact personality ironed out yet, so detailing his and ivy's dynamic would be difficult, but i can say that while she is his loyal second-in-command at his table of advisors, she is also plotting against him. ivy is a consistent loner in both mainline cv and here, and while she doesn't have the same tumultuous, antagonistic, emotional relationship with him as harley does with the joker, she is also frankly not interested in being his number one until the end of time. she wants to do it herself and she wants to do it right. this is an ivy who, in lieu of her own world-altering gift, is scraping tooth and nail to successfully supersede the most powerful entity she can get her hands on. the hatter is blissfully unaware of this - we can't all be perfect.

harley, for her part, is very tame in comparison. she mirrors ivy's canonical backstory pretty closely: an esteemed scientist studying stem cell relations who was denied funding, mocked, and forced to experiment on herself to prove a point, unwittingly connecting herself to a worldwide hive-mind of plantlife. this version of harley, while still dressed as a scientist, is far more surface-level emotionally volatile than mainline ivy, more impulsive and irrational, and probably willing to lean much farther into the classic poison ivy reputation as a villainous seductress, to varying degrees of honesty and success. it takes ivy an incredible degree of patience and control to maintain the mental and physical balance she strikes with the green, and this version of harley has far less of both. she lets it use her body as a conduit of earthly rage and she lets the poison infect her skin and organs until mottled and decaying. she's not unhappy, but she's not exactly stable, either.

jonathan is a mysterious, faux-sleazy lounge singer who lost his left arm to a snake bite infection as a child and thereafter became obsessed with the symbolism of the balance of life via games, tricks and questions - winning and losing, birth and death, etc. the ouroboros is a common symbol in his theatrics. he possesses a certain degree of social confidence that the mainline jonathan has never quite been capable of - while he doesn't have the same fervent need for attention as edward, he takes a compulsory delight in the mental influence he achieves on small crowds and will employ many avenues to get ahold of it. he's certainly not outgoing: he keeps almost entirely to himself offstage, uninterested in fame outside of his show persona. unlike mainline jonathan who views the scarecrow as a genuine self-inflicted diety, this jon sees his persona as more of a mantle or responsibility that he must take on in order to discover new truths about the world. like his canon counterpart he is asexual and uninterested in sex, but i imagine that he has less qualms about leading people on as an act to get what he wants from them. he's not terribly famous in his singing career, but he's become a bit of an underground legend for his resolute 1920s-inspired style and occasional genuine debonair charm.

edward in comparison is not nearly as ritualistically compelled as mainline scarecrow, but he’s far less cagey about his own machinations and his mental relationship to them: he lives in a tricked-out barn somewhere on the far outskirts of gotham, and he spends his time as a propmaster creating elaborate saw-trap-esque haunted houses and escape rooms to invoke panic in his “guests”. he wanders the halls of his own houses along with the guests, repairing and tinkering, or just scaring the shit out of them. he also makes a genuine living by making and selling cosplay props and other related objects online; he's developed a bit of an internet presence through this channel, though he's not as fixated on it as the mainline riddler would be. he still craves spectacle and attention, but he's more of a "quality over quantity" guy according to his own standards and is rarely happy with the work he creates, hence the endless roundabout of creation and reinvention.

[revasserium]

savanaclaw #2 - hands

leona.

he thinks he likes your hands, the deftness of your fingers, the way your nails flicker and flash in the afternoon sun as you pull his braids loose, scrape your nails against his scalp just the way he likes, shakes shivers from his spine as he purrs, letting his eyes fall shut. you and your gentle hands, sectioning off his hair as you chatter about your day, or perhaps you just sit in amiable silence, doing and re-doing his hair, twisting it into ever and ever more elaborate updos until he finally growls, soft and low, catching your wrist in his much larger palm, smirking at the way you go still, like rabbit caught beneath a lion’s paw, but all he’d do is tug you closer, graze his lips along your wrist, revel in the way you shudder at his touch. “had enough yet?” he’d ask, shaking his hair loose, running a hand through it to undo some of the tangles. you bite your lips, smile at him with the sunset pressed to the skin of your cheeks, reaching out to tug on a strand of his hair, “never.” to which he’d only scoff, allow himself a smile, settle back in your lap and close his eyes, let the day wash over him as you begin anew. he wonders if he’ll ever tire of the feeling of your hands in his hair; he just hopes that you don’t tire of it first.

ruggie.

he thinks he likes your hands, the way they flutter through the air like tiny, winged birds, so quick, so agile, telling so many untold stories even as you chatter your mouth off at the same time. he likes watching them, trying to figure out what they might do next, if they’ll cascade out when you’re describing something big and crazy or if they’ll wave through the air with a marked nonchalance, as you’re dismissing something off cuff. he thinks that there must be stories carved into the palms of your hands from the ways you’ve taught them how to speak, and sometimes, he reaches out just to press his palm to yours, to see if he can feel them etched there, into the lines of your skin, and it’s those times that you’d turn your head to look at him, your cheeks pink and eyes bright as uncut gems, asking “ruggie? what’s up?” to which he’d always giggle, duck his head behind his free hand to hide how hard he’s blushing himself, say, “nothin’, just wanted to hold your hand,” because he can’t really bring himself to say, tell me another story, to say, i want you to write me into every one of your stories, to be the breath between every word, the pause between every phrase. i want you to see me, to feel me, every time you move your hands, even if they’re not holding mine.

jack.

he thinks he likes your hands, likes how sure they are, likes the steadiness as you close your fist, or open them and press them to the flat of the table, likes the attention they command when you tap your finger against an open page, or point at a particularly difficult equation on a blackboard. he likes the way you sometimes dig your fingers into the hardness of his shoulders, make his whole body go soft, shudders working down his spine as you smile, letting his head tip back into your chest, peering up into your smiling face as you continue to knead at the knots in his shoulders. “long practice today?” you’d ask, your fingers working magic against the tightness at the base of his neck, his head dropping forward with a soft whine that normally might make his ears go flat, but god if this doesn’t feel way too good. “y-yeah… something like that…” he mutters, melting into your touch, wondering time and time again how so much power can come from such delicate fingers, such sweet, soft palms. “they work you too hard out there,” you say, leaning over to run your palms down his torso till your chin is resting in his hair, and like this, he can reach up to laces his fingers with yours, cupping them in his own, “nah, i like it though.” he grins as he laugh, the sound making his ears twitch. “why? cause i give you massages afterwards?” you ask, to which he’d chuckle, pulling you into his lap as you round the chair, his arms lacing around your waist to hold you close, “mm… well, it is something to look forward to, isn’t it?”

[amazingmsme]

Keeping Secrets

AN: More epic fluff! This time with Elpenor & Ody! Think it’s safe to say that we’re all in dire need for some cute goofy shenanigans after thunder saga, & I already had an idea for this. If anyone has any Eurylochus prompts please send em my way, cause he’s next!

“Ow!”

Elpenor yanked his hand away from the oar, inspecting his palm while the men around him continued rowing in unison.

"You okay?" Polites asked, turning around in his seat to check on the younger man.

"Yeah, it's just a splinter," he shrugged it off, picking at the skin around it in the hopes of working it from his palm. But his nails were short, and the splinter was deep, and it proved to be too difficult a task. He went back to rowing, ignoring the nagging pain in his hand.

That was a week ago.

Now, the skin around the splinter was red and puffy, and far too tender for him to do intense labor with that hand. He avoided rowing, as if the very act would kill him, opting for quite literally any other job.

He was slowly peeling carrots, the work tedious, yet easy on his hand. The cool carrot actually felt good against his inflamed palm. But he missed the camaraderie that came with the more difficult jobs, and people were starting to get suspicious.

Eurylochus marched through the kitchen doors, arms folded across his expansive chest as he stared down at him.

"Uh, d-did I do something wrong?" he asked, sitting up straight as the second in command walked in.

"Not exactly."

When Eurylochus didn't elaborate, Elpenor filled the silence. "So... why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why are you nursing your right hand?" he countered, catching Elpenor off guard.

He sputtered in shock as he answered, "Wha- I- no I'm not!"

"Oh, so you normally peel with your left hand?" he asked, arching a brow quizzically. Elpenor glared at him before he sighed in defeat. His shoulders sagged as he looked away.

"No... Hey! Let go!" Elpenor was wrenched to his feet when Eurylochus snatched him by the wrist, inspecting his injured hand.

"Mhm, you let it get infected," Eurylochus confirmed upon inspection. He snatched his hand back and clutched it close to his chest.

"I didn't let it do anything! I just couldn't get it out!" he snapped defensively.

"Well did you ask anyone for help?" Eurylochus asked in an even tone. Elpenor continued to glare.

"No..."

"Then you didn't try very hard," he reasoned, holding up a hand to silence Elpenor when he opened his mouth to argue. "It's alright. Just follow me." He walked to the door, holding it open for both of them.

"So where are we going?" he asked as he trailed behind.

"Odysseus has some tweezers. He should be able to get that splinter out no problem," he answered. Elpenor froze in place.

"The captain doesn't really need to know about this," he rushed out. Eurylochus turned to look at him, smirking when he took in his fearful expression.

"He already knows."

"Wha-"

"Polites told us."

Elpenor scoffed and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes as he spoke. "Of course he did."

"Hey, you should be grateful. Would you rather loose your hand because of a little splinter?" Eurylochus teased.

"Oh please, I wouldn't loose my hand-"

"No, because we're taking care of it right now," Eurylochus said matter of factly. Elpenor silently mocked him from behind, stopping immediately when he turned to check if he was coming. He begrudgingly trailed behind, complaining the whole way.

"Elpenor, relax. He just wants to talk to you and patch you up. It's not the end of the world."

"But this is stupid, can't I just take the tweezers and do it myself?" he tried to reason. Eurylochus shook his head, his expression shifting towards amusement when he saw his hesitation and worry.

"His bark is worse than his bite, I assure you."

"Hey, I'm not afraid of him!"

"You're sure acting like it," Eurylochus countered.

"He's gonna chew me out, I know that," Elpenor grumbled. He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Like I said. His bark's worse than his bite."

Elpenor heaved a dramatic sigh before following the rest of the way. Eurylochus ruffled his hair as he wished him luck, and he swatted him away before knocking.

The door opened and the captain welcomed him with a warm smile.

"Hey there. Come on in, have a seat," he greeted, pulling a chair away from his desk as he rifled through his things. Elpenor hesitantly walked in, taking in his surrounding as he sat down. The captain's room was messy yet organized, with eclectic decor and trinkets lining the walls and shelves.

Odysseus returned with a small pair of forceps, sitting on the edge of his bed in front of Elpenor. He noticed him staring at a large set of jaws hanging across the room and grinned.

"Polites and I reeled it in off the coast back home," he explained. Elpenor perked up.

"Really?"

"Yup. It was one hell of a fight too," Odysseus reminisced. "What about you? Do you enjoy fishing?" he asked conversationally. Elpenor thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, I guess I like it," he agreed.

"Well it'll be a lot harder if you only have one hand," he chastised, though he kept his tone light enough. Elpenor looked at the floor, his head hung in shame.

"Yeah, well, it didn't come to that, so..." Elpenor trailed off, still refusing to meet the captain's gaze. Odysseus took notice and placed his hands on his hips.

"Oh come on, I was just teasing!" When Elpenor didn't crack a smile, he rolled his eyes and smacked him on the knee. "Lighten up!"

Elpenor chanced a glance at him, brows furrowed in confusion. "Aren't you gonna... I don't know, yell at me?"

"I can get my point across without yelling," he said, holding out his hand expectantly. Elpenor hesitated before placing his hand in his, palm up. "But you really shouldn't let any injury go unchecked, especially on a ship. You've scrubbed the deck, you know how filthy these things are," he chuckled at his own joke. Elpenor didn't find it nearly as amusing.

"I mean, even the smallest cut could get infected, and if you let it go long enough, next thing you know, you lost your hand. Or foot. Or whatever," he scolded, pointing an accusatory finger in Elpenor's face.

"Okay, I get it. I'll get help next time," Elpenor snapped.

"Hey, I'm your captain, don't you dare speak to me like that," Odysseus barked as soon as his tone shifted. Elpenor shrunk back.

"Yes sir. Sorry."

Odysseus sighed. "I care about the well being of every man on this ship. Okay? So whether you get stabbed, or you get a splinter, or anything in between, you fucking let someone know. Understood?" Elpenor nodded.

"Understood?"

Elpenor nodded more vigorously. "Yes sir."

Odysseus perked up, a cheery smile replacing the stern look. "Good! Now let's get you taken care of." He pressed his thumb against the inflamed skin, making Elpenor wince slightly.

"Sorry, it's kinda tender," he apologized.

"It's alright," Odysseus said, tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated. He massaged around the area, trying to work the splinter back to the surface. "Wouldn't hurt if you'd just done this to begin with-"

"Okay!"

Odysseus gave him a pointed look and he shut up. "That's what I thought." Despite his words and outward demeanor, Odysseus was actually hoping for a little bit of that classic defiance that everyone had come to associate with the youngest among their ranks. To see him so quiet and obedient felt... wrong.

Was Elpenor afraid of him?

Gods, he hoped not. He didn't want his men to fear him, he just wanted their respect. And Odysseus was wise enough to know the difference.

"Relax, this isn't gonna hurt."

Elpenor scoffed, "I know that."

"Really? 'Cause you're kinda acting like I'm gonna bite your hand off," he teased.

"Lots of talk about me losing my hand today," Elpenor quipped. "You and Eurylochus planning something?"

Odysseus couldn't help but bark out a laugh and shake his head. "Just concerned for you, is all."

Elpenor narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Uh huh." He watched as Odysseus worked the splinter closer to the surface before grabbing the tweezers.

"Alright, I think I can get it now." He pinched the tweezers twice just for show before he got to work pulling the splinter out. Elpenor watched as he slowly tugged the invasive piece of wood free from his palm. It was longer than he expected, and had been nestled right near his thumb, preventing adequate mobility. The relief he felt when it was finally pulled free was immense.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Odysseus said once he finished. Elpenor nodded in agreement, glancing up at him in thanks.

"No sir. Uh, thank you." Elpenor made to stand, but Odysseus yanked him right back down.

"We're not quite done yet. Sit," he demanded, despite already forcing him to do so.

"Oh, uh, okay," Elpenor said nervously, watching every movement he made.

Odysseus walked over to a bucket in the corner and carried it back, sloshing precariously along the way.

"Hold out your hand," Odysseus ordered, and he listened. He held the bucket up and poured a generous amount of saltwater over the inflamed skin. He offered a towel to dry off before rummaging around his room once more. He returned with a golden jar and some loose bandages. Elpenor studied his movements with curiosity.

"So what's all this for?" he questioned.

"Well," Odysseus began as he unscrewed the jar and dipped his finger inside. "The saltwater was to clean the wound-"

"I wouldn't exactly call it a wound-"

"Shh, the captain's talking," he playfully shushed him, but Elpenor's mouth snapped shut regardless. "And the honey and bandages are to make sure it heals," he explained as he dabbed the honey onto his palm.

He was practically stiff as a board. Odysseus wasn't even sure he was breathing.

"You okay there?"

Elpenor snapped himself out of it and nodded. "Yup! Never better!"

"Uh huh," Odysseus said skeptically. He continued to spread the honey across his palm, this time watching Elpenor's reactions carefully. Strangely enough, he seemed to react more than when he actually removed the splinter. His shoulders were tense, lips pressed in a thin line as he avoided the captain's gaze. Odysseus traced the long crease of his hand, and his arm instinctively pulled back, fingers twitching with the urge to form a fist.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

To Elpenor, the question came out of nowhere. He looked up in a panic, locking eyes with Odysseus. "What?"

"I know this doesn't hurt half as much as you're acting like it does. So what gives? You got another splinter you're not telling me about?" His questions were sensible and valid, and Elpenor hated just how genuine he sounded.

"No!"

"Then what is it?"

"It's nothing!"

Odysseus didn't believe him. He squinted, looking Elpenor up and down. He leaned forward, on the cusp of invading his personal space. "Then act like it's nothing." He then continued to apply the honey in a thin, sticky layer.

And Elpenor flinched once more, biting his bottom lip.

Odysseus let out a small noise in frustration, letting go of his hand and fixing him with a look. "What's really going on?" he demanded.

"Noth-"

Odysseus held up a hand to silence him. "Don't lie to me." Elpenor went quiet, fixing him with a glare of his own.

"I'm not lying! It really is nothing."

"Yeah, because flinching at every touch is normal," Odysseus countered.

Elpenor hung his head, refusing to look at the captain for what seemed like the millionth time. "It's stupid," he mumbled, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks, not quite visible to Odysseus.

"Try me." When Elpenor didn't quite get the hint, he continued. "Oh come on, it can't be that bad," he encouraged. When that still didn't work, he added, "Tell me, or you'll be swabbing the deck for a week." That got his attention.

"Oh come on!" he whined. Odysseus grinned.

"I can make it two," he playfully threatened.

Elpenor wrenched his hand free from his grasp as he threw his arms up in the air out of frustration. "Zeus, you're insufferable! It just tickled a little, okay? Happy?" he snapped.

Odysseus tried to keep it together, he really did. But his smile stretched wider across his face, showing off all his teeth, and a chuckle slipped out that he tried to mask as a cough.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"Sorry, sorry. I just- wasn't expecting that," he admitted, looking Elpenor up and down. "You could've just told me, I would've been more careful."

He scoffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah right."

Odysseus cocked his head, eyebrows shooting up quizzically. "Oh? You don't trust me?" he challenged.

"Not with that information, no," he admitted, keeping a suitable distance between them.  Odysseus tossed his head back with a hearty laugh.

"Well at least you're honest. Let's get you bandaged up." He smirked when Elpenor didn't move. "I promise I won't do anything," he said, hiding crossed fingers behind his back.

He hesitantly sat back down, allowing Odysseus to wrap his hand. A long silence stretched between them before Odysseus spoke. "So palms, huh?"

Elpenor groaned and hid his face in his free hand. "Please stop talking."

"No no, I think it's cute," he teased, making sure the bandage was tight enough, but not too tight before tying it in a knot.

"I'm never gonna live this down, am I?" he mumbled.

"Not likely," Odysseus said smugly, not even bothering to hide his proud smirk. Elpenor groaned in embarrassment.

"Oh don't be like that. There are worse things." He patted his knee to signal that he was done, and Elpenor heaved a sigh of relief. When he made to stand, Odysseus stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Elpenor felt his stomach drop. "Uh, b-back to work?"

"In a minute, I gotta check the other one."

Elpenor clutched his hands to his chest, staring at him in bewilderment. "Why?"

"Gotta make sure that one's not hurt. Can't really take your word for it now, can we?" he teased.

"It's fine!" he squeaked out.

"Relax, it'll only take a second," he assured, snatching his other wrist. He yanked him down so he was sitting beside him on the bed, wasting no time before getting to work.

"Captain! What're you doING?" Elpenor's protest turned squeaky towards the end before clamping his mouth shut. Odysseus scribbled against his palm, smiling innocently

"Checking for splinters," he said, feigning innocence. Elpenor shook his head, stomping his feet a little, anything to keep from laughing. "What else would I be doing?" Odysseus asked, as if he didn't already know.

"You're t-tickling mehehe!" Elpenor cried out before bubbly giggles took over his voice.

"Really? Wow, I would've never guessed," he mused nonchalantly, tracing the lines on Elpenor's palm.

"Liahahar! You fucking knew!" he accused, so Odysseus decided to scratch blunt nails along his inner wrist. He snorted and tugged on his trapped arm, but the captain's grip held firm.

"I didn't know they'd be this bad. But hey, I'm not complaining," he taunted, chuckling when Elpenor whined through his giggles and tried shoving him away with his wrapped hand.

"Ihihi ahahaham!" Elpenor argued, trying to sound angry, but the giggles severely diminished the effect. Odysseus scoffed and waved him off.

"No you're not, you're laugh," he justified, flashing him a cheeky grin. He began tracing circles on the center of his palm, and Elpenor squealed, tugging on his arm with all his might. Odysseus barely bit back a smirk, letting him go so that he flew back into the mass pillows on the bed.

Odysseus didn't bother to hide his laughter when Elpenor hit the pillows and only laughed harder when he glared up at him.

"What kind of captain are you?" he asked incredulously, sitting up among the mountain of pillows.

"A really fun one," he bragged. Elpenor rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"You're crazy..."

"Thank you," Odysseus said mock sincerely, placing a hand over his heart.

"That wasn't a compliment!"

"It is to me."

"Whatever," Elpenor scoffed and waved him off. His cheeks were sporting a bright blush, brows furrowed, nostrils flared: oh, so he got angry when he was embarrassed. This just kept getting better and better.

He waited until Elpenor was almost standing to strike. He lunged forward, grabbing him in a headlock from behind and yanking him back down.

"NO! MOTHERFUCKER, LET ME GOOO!" he screamed, thrashing in his hold as much as he could.

"Hey! Don't talk to your captain like that!" Odysseus scolded, wasting no time before clawing at his belly.

"THEN AHAHACT LIHIKE ONE!" Elpenor squealed through his growing hysterics, prying his arm away, only for it to latch onto his hip and squeeze. Odysseus gasped in mock offense, drilling his thumb against the bone.

"You undermining my authority?" he challenged in a threatening tone.

"N-nohoho! Please, thihihis ihis torture!" Elpenor shrieked when he felt that wretched hand scribble across his stomach up to his ribs.

Odysseus snorted in amusement. "Yeah- tickle torture!" As he spoke, he sped up his movements, digging in ever so slightly. Elpenor cackled and thrashed even more.

"You're nohohot funny!"

"Actually, I'm hilarious!" Odysseus insisted. "Oh, I got a good one for you! How many tickles does it take to make a kraken laugh?" Somehow, Elpenor managed to let out an annoyed groan through a fit of giggles. "Ten tickles!"

"Thehehey only hahave eight legs!" he argued. Odysseus glared down at him and shoved his hands under his arms, making his scream with laughter.

"You smartass! I know they only have eight tentacles, it's called a play on words!"

"Stihihill not funny!"

"Oh now you're asking for it," he growled as he scribbled down his ribs to his sides to his hips.

"Ihihi ahaham NOHOHOT!" Elpenor shrieked when he felt hands relentlessly squeeze his hips.

"That's exactly what someone who's asking for it would say," Odysseus taunted with a shit eating grin. "But since I'm feeling nice, I'll offer you a deal: promise to actually tell someone if you're hurt, and- are you even listening?" he asked, drilling circles against the bones with his thumbs. Elpenor bucked and snorted, nodding in agreement.

"Yehehes, just gehehet ohohon with it!" he cried out through his laughter. Odysseus chuckled along and continued.

"Okay bossy. But if you promise to be more careful and look after yourself, I'll let you go," he bargained. Elpenor leapt at the opportunity for mercy.

"Yehehes, fine! Whatehehever you wahant, just stop!"

True to his word, Odysseus pulled away, allowing him to catch his breath. He chanced a glance towards the captain, instant regret taking hold as he saw him leaning against the headboard, arms folded across his chest smugly, and he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin Elpenor had ever seen. He turned away with a huff, mumbling under his breath as he stood.

Odysseus watched him go, snickering quietly behind his hand. He shut up as soon as Elpenor whipped around, trying to catch him in the act. But there he sat, the picture of feigned innocence.

Elpenor scoffed, still reeling from the strange interaction with their superior.

"You're a fucking monster," he spat, but the insult held no heat. In fact, it only made Odysseus smile wider.

"Yeah, a tickle monster," he chimed in, not even bothering to hide his amusement. Elpenor blushed, eyes wide and mouth agape as he struggled to find a smart retort. Odysseus cocked his head. He glared at him.

"Shut up." He grabbed the doorknob, flinching when he heard Odysseus's voice speak up.

"You're dismissed," came the smug call, and Elpenor could just kill him.

"I was already leaving," he sassed back, opening the door and leaving. He slammed the door behind him, cutting off deep, rumbling chuckles. He turned down the hall, nearly running into Eurylochus.

"Wha- Eurylochus! Uh, h-how long have you, uh, been standing there?" he studdered, not quite meeting his gaze. Eirylochus smirked.

"Just wanted to make sure you'd made it out alive," he teased.

"Yeah, whatever," he brushed him off, getting all but two steps before it dawned on him, and he spun on his heels to face him. "Wait- YOU FUCKING KNEW?!"

Eurylochus couldn't help but break out in a large, playful grin. He shrugged sheepishly.

"Asshole!" he shoved at his chest, as unmoving as a wall. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"And ruin the surprise?"

Elpenor let out a high pitched, indignant sound that made Eurylochus bark out a laugh. He threw an arm around his sounders and guided him down the hall.

Elpenor was still reeling from what had just happened. At the beginning of the day, he had a nagging splinter in his hand, and by the end, the splinter was gone, and in its place was a completely new perception of the man he called captain.

Maybe he wasn't so bad...

And then Polites bounded up to him, eyes shining and smile bright. "I didn't know you were ticklish!"

Or not.

[theother-victoria]

WHAT ONCE WAS

SYNOPSIS: Accountability is a bitter pill to swallow, but what hurts more is being forgotten by the one he loves the most. As he rebuilds your relationship once more, Scaramouche has a difficult decision to make: have you live in blissful ignorance or admit the truth and risk everything falling apart again.

TAGS: angst w fluff, happy ending bc I’m not that cruel, major spoilers for the “Inversion of Genesis” interlude archon quest, scaramouche is referred to as “Ena” bc that’s the name I gave him, gn reader, 11.7k word count

NOTES: so this is where I’ve been for the past *checks calendar* three months

Here’s the in-depth explanation and analysis behind this fic if you want to read it afterward!

Watch me post this and then inevitably disappear for a few more 🫡

Scaramouche has been acting strange lately.

He’s been unusually silent like he’s pondering something and staring off into space most of the time. When you ask him about it, he shrugs your questions off and says it’s nothing.

“What’s on your mind, Scara?”

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

And the conversations always end there. He makes no effort to elaborate and eventually, you stop digging for answers. Other than that, he still acts normally. He still has his sharp tongue and attitude. You still get into your daily fights and scuffles with him over nothing. You’d return home from work and he’d return home from whatever he was doing in the city (something along the lines of community service was what you managed to gather from the bits and pieces of information he told you). In a sense, everything was still the same. His sudden radio silence at times was startling, but nothing ever changed in your relationship as a result of it.

… But really, it’s kind of scary how intensely he zones out sometimes.

Then, everything changes one night.

You’re getting ready for bed with him while he stares out the window as usual. If you follow his line of sight, it leads to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. He’s been oddly fixated on that place lately and you haven’t been able to get an answer as to why.

You take a seat on the bed next to him. There’s a look in his eyes that tells you he’s plotting something- that there’s an idea brewing in his mind.

“Thinking again? What nefarious scheme are you plotting-”

You don’t even get the chance to tease him further before he pulls you into a tight hug. Normally, he’s nowhere near this affectionate, preferring to keep his distance even in your close relationship, but now he’s holding you close as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you otherwise.

“...Scara? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to give you a hug.”

His soft violet hair tickles your neck and you feel his hands absentmindedly tracing circles around your waist.

“Is there a reason as to why?”

“No. Just felt like it.”

You eye him suspiciously. As soon as it started, he pulls away from the hug and flicks your forehead.

“Go to sleep now. I’ll join you in a bit. Just… let me think for a bit longer.

“I love you.”

He says the last part like it’s nothing. It nearly gives you whiplash and you look at him strangely. He’s really lost his mind this time, hasn’t he? He almost never does that.

“What’re you gaping at me like that for? Go to sleep already.”

He lightly hits you over the head with a pillow before you can say anything else. You roll your eyes and with a huff, roll onto your side until you’re fast asleep within a few minutes.

Scaramouche doesn’t join you as he promised. Instead, he continues to stare out the window at the moon, his gaze occasionally flickering back to your sleeping figure. A rare expression of uncertainty crosses his face as he sinks deep into thought.

Is this really the right decision?

Time stretches out over an eternity. Hours pass and the moon rises higher into the sky. Scaramouche debates with himself, unsure of what to do.

This is a decision I can’t go back from.

Throughout his long life, he’s never been faced with a choice as difficult as this. Neither decision ends well for either of you. Deep down, he knew what the correct answer was, yet he refused to consider it for more than a few seconds.

What would he do if he lost everything all over again?

Time was running out. Scaramouche gets up to leave with his mind made up. Lying to himself wouldn’t do anything and Nahida was waiting for him. He plants a soft kiss on your cheek and stares at you longingly one last time before putting his hat on and heading out the door. It closes behind him with a silent click.

Whatever happens next, happens. He’ll witness the results of his actions tomorrow.

The next morning, you wake up feeling refreshed and your mind clearer than it’s ever been. It feels like you’ve been asleep for a very, very long time and you’ve just woken up.

And instantly, you notice something is off.

There are traces of another person everywhere. From the Inazuman-style clothes hanging in the closet that most definitely aren’t yours to the ink-wash paintings hanging on the wall, it’s evident that someone has influenced your life tremendously.

But who? Your mind is drawing up blanks as to who it could be.

When you get downstairs, it’s even more prominent. A pair of slippers that are too big for you by the stairwell. Books sitting on the bookshelf that after examining their titles and summaries, aren’t to your liking but are still there anyway. Traditional Inazuman sandals and shoes are lined up next to yours by the front door. None of it matches the vibe of your house and yet, they look as if they’ve been there forever, weathered and worn with time.

There’s a photo sitting on a side table in the living room that catches your attention. Upon closer inspection, it’s of you and a young man sitting side by side and posing for the camera. His attire is… unique. You can’t say you’ve seen anything quite like it before.

The first thing that catches your attention is the wide-brimmed hat he’s wearing. It’s ornate, with gold decorations and a veil in the back. His clothes seem like they cost a fortune and appear to be from Inazuma, similar to the ones hanging in your bedroom closet. A smirk plays across his face, yet there’s a gentle look in his eyes as he gazes at you smiling at the camera. An arm is slung around your shoulder, pulling you close.

Clearly, you have- or had?- some sort of special relationship with him according to this photo. But you don’t recognize his face. You can’t remember anything about this man. You don’t even know his name.

Who is he?

Someone knocks at the door. Three solid thumps against the wood and then silence. The sound echoes in your ears and you can feel yourself get up to answer the door. Why does it feel like you have no control over your body right now? Why does time feel like it’s moving so slowly?

Why are you so afraid of what awaits you on the other side of the door?

You open the door to reveal a young man waiting patiently. With a shock, you realize he’s the same man in the photo. He has the same fair skin, the same eyes, and the same blunt haircut.

(He’s even prettier up close and in person.)

He’s changed quite a bit too. His attire is different now. He wears an open-chested kimono with a black bodysuit underneath and pleated shorts. The furisode kimono is dyed in shades of blue and white that resemble the sky and small birds are depicted on the long sleeves as if they are taking to the skies. His hat has lost the veil, but it’s more ornate and now resembles a lotus, the metal gleaming in the late afternoon sun. More surprisingly is the Anemo vision pinned proudly to his robes. By the looks of it, it seems as if he built his entire outfit around it.

But what surprises you the most is his face. He seems… unburdened now. Like a heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders for the first time.

There’s a look of trepidation on his face and a small spark of hope in his eyes as he meets your gaze.

“... Can I help you?”

The spark of hope quickly dies at your response. His face is crestfallen, yet all he does is let out a resigned sigh.

“I’m a lost traveler that’s in need of a place to stay. Do you mind if I stay at your house for a little while?”

You glance back at the photo, then back at him. Under any other circumstances, you would have said no, but this time…

“Of course. But I don’t know your name yet.”

He pauses for a moment. His gaze darts around like he was searching for an answer- or several answers. You’re beginning to wonder if you said the wrong thing before he chuckles and smiles, finally relaxing.

“What you call me doesn’t matter. Call me anything you want.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

He huffs a sigh. Persistent as always, he thinks.

“Others call me Wanderer. Call me that if you’re strapped for ideas.”

“Wanderer…”

It’s an interesting name for sure. In your opinion, it really can’t be considered a name. It’s more suited for a description.

“That’s quite the interesting name you’ve got there, but it’s awkward to say and isn’t really suited for a name.”

“If you don’t like it, call me something else then,” he retorts. You ignore the remark and mentally go through the limited collection of Inazuman names you know of. None of them are suitable until a long-forgotten one hits you out of the blue.

“Hmm… how about the name Ena?”

“Ena,” he repeats to himself, trying the name on for size. To your surprise, you watch as his scowl melts into a grin and his eyes soften. His eyes shine with delight and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Meaning ‘gift from god’. I like it.”

I wouldn’t consider myself that, he thinks. Far from it, actually. But if that’s what you think I am, then I’ll believe it wholeheartedly.

“And by the way, Ena is a girl’s name.”

Your eyes go wide with shock.

“I-really? Wait, I’m sorry for-!”

You’re interrupted by his unabashed laughter at your dumbfounded expression. The smug look on his face tells you that he got the desired reaction out of you.

“You should’ve seen your face! It’s so easy to get you worked up over nothing, you know?”

“Stop pulling my leg like that!”

For some reason, this kind of argument with him over nothing feels… familiar. You push the thought to the side and storm away, huffing and puffing in irritation.

“Whatever. Come inside and make yourself at home. Just don’t make a mess of anything.”

Ena goes quiet and his wistful gaze lingers on the spot you were just a few moments ago. He lets out a drawn-out sigh and an unwelcome, though familiar, feeling tugs at the heart he now knows he has. Was it regret? Sorrow? Longing for something so close yet so far, barely out of touch?

Whatever it was, the full weight of his actions had finally hit him. Karma had finally come back to make him pay. He lifts his Anemo vision up and eyes it. It glows in response and he scoffs.

… He can’t say he misses the feeling of it.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow- accountability and the uncertainty of the future. He glances inside your house and sighs before shaking his head and heading inside.

You’re just as lovely as the day I lost you.

The next day, he has an interesting idea. You were eating breakfast around the table with him not-so-subtly criticizing your cooking skills and you telling him to “make his own if it’s so bad then.” He had scoffed and said he’ll take you up on that offer.

(This scene feels strangely domestic and familiar…)

Ena pushes his (empty) bowl to the side. There’s that look in his eyes that tells you he’s up to no good. How you managed to recognize it after less than a day with him, you have no idea.

“How would you like to travel the world with me?”

You pause and stare at him blankly.

“What?”

“You heard me. How would you like to travel the world? I’m sure you’ve always wanted to do that, right?”

“With you in the way? No thanks.”

He scowls at that and flicks your forehead. You yelp in pain and bat his hands away before turning and staring out the window for a bit.

“But all jokes aside, you’re right. I’ve always wanted to travel the world ever since I was little.”

You pause and bite your lip before giving him a suspicious look.

“First off, why are you offering this?”

He rolls his eyes and laughs.

“I just thought it’d be pretty pathetic if you died without ever seeing the world. Plus, I wanted to-”

He stops himself from saying anything else just in time. You stare at him strangely and he brushes you off. It’s your turn to roll your eyes now as you gather the dishes and begin washing them.

I wanted to show you the places I once took you to that you’ve now forgotten, was what he wanted to say. How will you react now that we’ve started over? Will you react with wonder at the dazzling lights of Liyue Harbor? Laugh and dance happily amongst the wide expanse of grassy plains in Mondstadt? Go silent with awe at the solemn rule of the Shogun in Inazuma?

He silently laughs at himself. He’s become weaker ever since he met you all those years ago. Not like he minded.

You’ve finished the dishes and you’re staring at him with an idea brewing in your head.

“So what I’m hearing is an offer for a free vacation with no strings attached.”

Your tone is mischievous and there’s that shit-eating grin on your face he knows all too well. Ena groans and rolls his eyes in faux annoyance.

“If that’s how you want to think of it, then yes.”

You snicker victoriously and it’s all he can do to not go over and (lovingly) flick your forehead as hard as he can.

“But what about money? A trip around the world is going to cost a fortune, right? Plus, there’s my small business I have to worry about. It’s my only means of income…”

Ena waves a hand at you. “Don’t worry about the money. I’ll handle it. Focus on making sure everything’s in order for the house and your business.”

I’ve got more Mora than I know what to do with, thanks to my time in the Fatui.

He looks over his shoulder at you.

“I recommend you pack your bags as soon as possible. We leave when everything is done and ready.”

The first nation he takes you to is Mondstadt, the land of freedom. A warm breeze brushes your skin as you step foot into the city, carrying with it the scent of dandelion wine and the familiar feeling of well-wishes.

The city is so lively. Children and teenagers chase each other down the cobblestone streets. A crowd of people gathers around a small child selling flowers, the sweet fragrance of them making its way over to you. The colorful banners strung overhead between buildings flutter in the wind. A group of adventurers pass by you and give you bright grins.

“A pair of travelers, eh? Welcome to Mondstadt!”

A bard clad in green sings and plays his lyre to a captive audience by the fountain in the city square. The smell of freshly-cooked food from Good Hunter on your left tempts you and through the door, you can hear the clink of bottles being toasted and the cheers of rowdy but good-natured patrons.

You feel Ena tug on your sleeve. He’s grinning at you mischievously.

“Come on, slowpoke, we’re not stopping here. There’s more to see than just the city.”

The next few weeks pass by in a blur.

Soon after your arrival in Mondstadt, he takes you to the Thousand Winds Temple on the eastern coast of Mondstadt as the first stop. Stone arches tower above your head and you have to crane your neck upwards to see the end of the pillars that seem to stretch upward forever. The sheer size of the temple makes you feel almost insignificant, but ivy and fauna have slowly reclaimed it with overgrowth rampant everywhere. It’s nothing more than crumbling ruins at this point, but it must’ve been beautiful centuries ago.

… Still, you’re a little confused as to why he would bring you all the way out here just to see a dilapidated temple.

“Is there a specific reason why you brought us here?”

“Nothing really, other than that it has quite a long history.”

“I didn’t take you for the scholarly type, Ena.”

“Shut up.”

You begin to curiously explore the temple. Parts of it are locked behind gates and no matter what you do, you can’t get them to budge. You manage to climb over some walls onto what appears to be the stairs and take a seat there. From here, you have a better view of the temple and you try to piece together what it used to look like. Eventually, you come to the realization that it must’ve resembled an amphitheater.

Meanwhile, Ena strides across the arena and comes to a stop, facing the sea. His coming here was purely for selfish reasons.

This was where I first met you. I was on a mission in Mondstadt to investigate some strange occurrences that had been happening. Back then, you were still a student in the Akademiya researching these ruins. We had run into each other accidentally and immediately started arguing over some petty matter and were practically at each other’s throats.

He looks over his shoulder to see you attempting to scale a pillar to reach the elemental monument above and quietly laughs at the sight. He’s glad that you can’t see the fond smile stretching across his face.

You’re still the same fool now as you were back then. Some things in life never change, do they?

On another day, he brings you to Starsnatch Cliff late at night. You grumble and curse at him for disturbing your sleep the entire time, to which he tells you to shut up after being chased by monsters several times.

(You keep your mouth shut after that.)

Ena uses his Anemo vision to quickly fly to the edge of the cliff and avoid the grueling upwards hike. You, on the other hand, are forced to make the trek and arrive several minutes later, panting in exhaustion.

“You’re too slow.”

“Not my fault that I don’t have a handy vision to help me out,” you snap back as you take a seat next to him. The cool evening breeze tickles your skin and you lie on your back to see the stars and the moon. There’s not a single cloud in the sky and you can see the arm of the galaxy that stretches across the night sky in a twinkling display of stars and stardust.

“Now I see why you dragged me out this late. The view is beautiful.”

“I told you.”

You glare at him in response and begin picking the Cecilia flowers that grow on the cliff to make a flower crown with them. Ena only rolls his eyes at the action and lies down to look at the sky.

The second time I met you was here, not long after our first encounter. You were doing the same thing- making flower crowns. When I asked you what you were doing, you gave it to me. Quite the bold move, considering I could’ve ended your life at any moment. Although…

He looks back at you lying sprawled out like a starfish in the grass and holding the finished flower crown in your hands. Your eyes meet his gaze and you wordlessly place it on his head. You giggle at the sight and the blush that creeps across his face as he glares at it.

“It suits you! You look even prettier with it.”

Your eyes shine with a mix of amusement and adoration. To Ena, your smile rivals the brilliance of the moon above and he swears he can feel his heart skip a beat all over again.

Although, how could I have even considered that thought? Especially when you looked at me back then the same way you do now?

Midway through your stay in Mondstadt, he brings you to the famed Angel’s Share for some drinks while subsequently making fun of your inability to hold your alcohol.

“What, can’t even handle wine?”

“Shut up,” you cough out- or rather, slur out with the alcohol getting to you. A blue-haired man sitting at the other end of the table pretends to not hear you, but you can see his shoulders shaking as he tries to stifle his laughs.

With the sweet taste of the tavern’s renowned Dandelion Wine, you didn’t expect it to pack that much of a punch. Your face is already flushed and you can feel just how unbearably warm you are. With a groan, you rest your head against the cool surface of the table and sigh in relief. Ena rolls his eyes and finishes the rest of your drink in one go.

“Seriously, how are you still fine after all of those drinks you had? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have an inhuman alcohol tolerance,” you grumble.

A thin glass of apple cider is placed in front of you by the bartender. You instantly recognize it as a drink for sobering up and Ena cackles at the realization scrawled all over your face.

“Come on. Finish that and we’ll go back to our place.”

He ends up having to carry you on his back. You passed out while you were still in the bar and now you’re sleeping peacefully, occasionally mumbling nonsensical things as you dream. Ena grumbles and curses you out all the while, but it lacks any real scorn.

Many months later, I came back to Mondstadt and found you in a drunken stupor here. You had just dropped out of the Akademiya and were worried about what you’d do now and dreaded having to return to Sumeru. You had drunk so much that you passed out and I ended up having to carry you back to your place.

He looks back at your sleeping figure and sighs.

“The past likes to repeat itself, huh? And your alcohol tolerance hasn’t improved one bit since then.”

Really, it made for a comical sight. The Sixth Fatui Harbinger, capable of striking fear into the hearts of the masses, carrying an Akademiya dropout who’d cried and drank themselves to sleep back to their house like some sort of gentleman? Most people would laugh at that.

His hand grasps yours as he looks back on the past that only he remembers now.

Lost in thought, he misses how you gently squeeze his hand in return.

On the very last day of your stay in Mondstadt, Ena waits until sunset to drag you to the Church of Favonius. He carefully led you around the vigilant eyes of the Knights and passersby until you were at the back of the church. You weren’t expecting this to be your final stop and you stare at him, confused.

“Just trust me, ok?”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he scoops you up into his arms and soars into the air with the help of his vision.

“Wha-hey!” you shout as you nervously flail around. “What’re you doing?”

“Be quiet!” he hisses. “Do you want people to hear us?”

Ena quickly sets you down on a ledge atop a spire and you go silent. From here, you have a perfect view over all of Mondstadt, from the sprawling city before you all the way out to the great oak tree in Windrise and the Statue of the Seven shining beneath it, and everything in between. The skies are clear and Mondstadt is bathed in a rosy pink glow.

“Don’t fall off now,” he teases as you lean forward.

“How did you find this spot?” you ask. He looks off to the side as if embarrassed to admit the truth.

“I saw the Traveler and a girl in red up here one day. They seemed to be enjoying the view so I stowed the idea away for later.”

That was half the truth. Not like you’d remember the other half of it anyway.

You were awfully persistent back then, he thinks as he watches you sneeze when a cluster of dandelion seeds blow past, carried along by the winds. Hanging around with a Fatui Harbinger like it was nothing and having the gall to talk to me like we were equals. I seriously thought you had no sense of danger back then. Or maybe you just had a death wish.

One day, you had offhandedly told me that a view over all of Mondstadt could be seen atop the spires of the Church of Favonius. The look in your eyes implied that you wanted to see it for yourself. You thought it was a great idea. I thought you were insane.

But I managed to make it work after happening to see someone else do it. Late at night, we snuck up here together to go stargazing. We had a beautiful view that night. The sky was clear and all the stars were visible. But it wasn’t the sky or the stars that caught my attention- it was the look in your eyes.

For a moment, I saw everything I ever wanted reflected in them.

You swing your legs in contentment as a flock of birds flies past you. Ena eyes you nervously as you sit precariously close to the edge and reaches out to gently grasp your wrist.

“... Is something the matter?”

“You’re sitting too close to the ledge. Move back a bit.”

“Didn’t know you were such a mother hen.” But you do as he says.

You gaze upon him fondly and there it is again- the look that stole his heart. You looked at him as if he was your entire world. He would do anything to have you look at him like that for just a little while longer.

“(Name)?”

“Yes?”

“Can we stay like this just a little longer?”

“Of course.”

The sky begins to darken and the temperature starts to drop. The people of Mondstadt gradually head home one by one until the streets are deserted, but above it all, you and Ena are lost in your own world- one that only he now remembers.

The seasons have changed. Summer has faded and it’s colder now. The days are shorter, much to your displeasure. Almost all vegetation has died out- the tree branches are stripped bare of leaves and a light dusting of snow from earlier covers the ground. There’s a light crunching sound as you walk, leaving footprints behind.

You shiver as a cold breeze passes by and without missing a beat, Ena gives you his scarf. He wraps it around you and tightens it securely before tugging at your coat zipper to make sure it’s zipped up all the way. He nods in satisfaction.

“Keep it. You need it more.”

You pass by a Statue of the Seven and head down some ice-coated stone steps. The horizon is bright and as you look up from the ground, you see why. Liyue Harbor is aglow with warm orange lights and countless paper lanterns float in the air, scattered throughout the sky.

Ena looks over your shoulder at the glowing port.

“We’re in luck. We made it just in time for the Lantern Rite.”

You hear a smidge of smugness in his voice.

“In luck, you say? Something tells me you planned this,” you tease. Already, you can feel a rush of excitement bubbling up as you grab him by the wrist and pull him along with you toward the city.

“Who knows? Maybe I did.”

The entire harbor is decorated for Liyue’s biggest festival of the year. Red paper lanterns and bundles of firecrackers hang at the corners of businesses and houses alike. Spring couplets and squares of red paper with the character for “fortune” are pasted onto doors everywhere you look. A group of children runs past you waving sparklers to celebrate and the mother of one opens the door to call her child in for dinner.

A storyteller tells the tale of how the Lantern Rite came to be as you run through the stone streets. Aided by the folding screen behind him that depicts a panorama of Liyue in the past, his rich voice and reenactments of scenes captivate his starry-eyed audience that hangs onto every word. An amber-eyed man listens intently, a peaceful expression washing over his handsome face as if he is recalling pleasant memories of days gone by. The sweet scents of steamed rice, caramelized sugars and smoke, and various fragrant spices hit your nose as you pass by a restaurant across the street with a long line of people waiting to order outside. A girl with short blue hair runs out of the kitchen, carrying several plates of food to the establishment with the storyteller.

“Excuse me! Coming through!”

A small stall wedged in the space between the restaurant and another building harks its goods to passersby.

“Cheap and tasty chop suey! Special Lantern Rite deal- half off of everything!”

The path curves down from there, leading to the shipping and loading docks of the port. You go past that toward where everyone is gathered. You gasp and momentarily, you go speechless. It’s simply gorgeous. You have no other way to describe it.

Lotus-shaped lights illuminate the pathway and golden lanterns are strung about, bathing you and Ena in an orange glow. Parasols of every shape and color hang from the scaffolding above, casting shades of color across your faces. An old man off to the side adds some last-minute touches to the giant puppet head that will be used for tonight’s dragon dance. You catch a glimpse of it as you pass by and it is a true labor of love, painstakingly crafted down to the tiniest detail. The performers for said dance rehearse the complicated choreography to your left, running in circles and weaving in and out of each other to the point where your eyes hurt from watching. Stalls and vendors sell a variety of goods- street food, paper lanterns to release into the sky, firecrackers, decorations, toys for children, and flowers with auspicious meanings among many other things.

The heavy crowds and sounds of cheer and festivities make you almost forget about the chilling mid-winter cold. Ena disappears for a second and reappears with a bundle of flowers that he swiftly tucks behind your ear.

“Hmm? What flower is this?”

“They’re peach blossoms.”

You shoot a glance at the pale pink blossoms and smile as a thank-you before returning back to the celebration. He stifles a laugh upon your reaction. Clearly, you were unaware of the symbolism behind the flowers.

Peach blossoms symbolize romance. It’s often gifted by young people, as they believe it will bring romantic luck.

(He mentally thanks Nahida for forcing him to go to school. Some of the stuff he learned there was actually helping him.)

To your right, two girls perform on an illuminated stage, one singing while the other plays the guitar to the thunderous applause of the audience. You sneak past the crowd to admire the Mingxiao lantern the size of a parade float that towers above everyone behind the stage. It depicts a gold and red goose (an Adeptus?) taking to the skies, with the jagged peaks of Liyue in blue behind it. A yellow whole moon partially hides behind the tallest one and wisps of fog obscure the ground and lazily wind around the mountaintops.

The energy of the crowd has been palpable ever since you got here, but it increases now as you look toward where everyone else’s gaze is directed at- the sky.

“Hurry, it’s about to start!”

“Over here, over here! I saved this spot before anyone else could get it!”

Mere moments later, a loud boom goes off and an orange firework explodes in the sky. Then another one. And another one. The fireworks show has started and while they are beautiful, you’re having a difficult time enjoying it while everyone else is jostling for a view. Unfortunately, that means you can’t see much of anything either…

You feel a sharp tug at your wrist and look back to see Ena trying to squeeze his way through the crowd without losing his hat and being crushed alive.

“I know of a spot. Follow me!”

With much difficulty and after almost getting your ribs crushed, you break free of the crowd. Ena hoists you onto his shoulders and speeds through the now-empty streets with the help of his vision, carefully avoiding the Millileth stationed.

“You seem to be enjoying this position,” you offhandedly comment as he squeezes your thighs.

“It’s one of the only ways I can get your lazy ass places,” he says, like the liar he is.

(He secretly just likes the feeling of your thighs around his neck.)

He comes to a stop atop a building on the outskirts of the city and from here, you have a perfect view of the fireworks. Some whirl into a spiral while others slowly shoot straight up as they explode in a glittering multicolored shower. Some fireworks tumble like a waterfall and others pepper the sky in rapid flashes of light that have you seeing stars afterward.

“Isn’t what we’re doing right now technically illegal?” you ask while still keeping your eyes on the firework display. He laughs and you can practically imagine him rolling his eyes.

“Would you rather be here or before where we were practically suffocating to death?”

You laugh as well with a smile on your face. Ena squeezes your hand in his (when did that get there?) while he pulls something out. You look away from the show to see him place a red and gold metal canister between you two. It’s rather similar to the fireworks launchers you saw in the city…

“Ena, don’t tell me you-”

“What, it’s not like they’re going to notice one gone! They’ve got a bunch to spare anyway.”

He motions for you to move away from the canister and pulls out a bamboo tube with a conical cap mounted to a stick. He strikes a match and after lighting the fuse, sticks it into the mortar and moves away. You both cover your ears and after a few seconds, it shoots out with a high-pitched whistling sound before exploding in a golden display that resembles the branches of a weeping willow tree.

“Did you steal the fireworks too?” you ask with a wide grin on your face. He scowls at the question and begins to prepare another one for launch.

“No. I bought them,” he grumbles. The next firework exits the mortar and explodes in the sky. It resembles a white chrysanthemum.

You’ve all but forgotten about the official show as you take turns launching fireworks and creating your own (illegal) display. The official show may be more flashy, but yours has a magic of its own that can’t be recreated.

“Aw, how cute! This firework is shaped like a heart!” you exclaim as you watch it scatter in a shower of pink sparkles. The amount of fireworks being launched from the harbor suddenly increases and you realize it must be the grand finale already.

Ena pulls something out again. Two Mingxiao lanterns. He passes one to you along with a brush and some ink.

“The people of Liyue have a tradition of writing riddles on lanterns during the Lantern Rite,” he explains upon seeing your confusion. “Write whatever you’d like- it doesn’t have to be a riddle- and once the fireworks are over, we’ll release them into the sky, ok?”

He watches you frown and mull over what you want to write, face scrunching up into various expressions of contemplation and hesitation. He internally laughs at the sight before returning to his lantern, brush gliding over the paper with confidence.

I wish for (Name) to accept me for who I am.

And as the last of the fireworks explode in the sky, you and Ena release your lanterns in unison, soaring into the sky and joining the lanterns of everyone else. You lean against his shoulder (when did the distance between you two get so close?) and gaze at your lanterns drifting away.

“What did you wish for?” you ask.

“It’s a secret. I’m not telling you.”

“Fine. I’m not telling you mine either.”

You silently laugh to yourself. You had gotten a glimpse of what he was writing and while it may have been written in the old Inazuman script (most likely to confuse your prying eyes), you were still a former Akademiya student and you still had a decent knowledge of languages. The Inazuman language was one you were proficient in before you dropped out and you could get the general idea of his wish written onto the lantern.

How cute.

And as for what you wrote?

Ena couldn’t help but peek when you were writing. With the light of the fireworks, he had seen what you were written and a long-forgotten emotion erupted in his newly-acquired heart.

I wish for Ena to receive the love he deserves.

The last nation he takes you to is Inazuma.

You had spent a few months in Liyue until the weather warmed up, discovering everything the nation had to offer. You had ventured into the Adepti’s abode in Jueyun Karst, visited the famed turquoise waters of Luhua Pool, and explored the countless ancient ruins scattered throughout the land. At one point, with a letter from the Traveler and special clearance from the Millelith, he takes you to the Chasm. There, you had carefully crossed the creaky wooden walkways with high winds whipping you around and had scaled the high peaks covered with ochre grass and trees with crimson-colored leaves. The gaping maw in the center leading to the Underground Mines had tempted you and there you had stayed for a while, staring down into it.

(He contemplated bringing you there because it had a beauty of its own, but ultimately decided against it due to how dangerous it was.)

Now docked at Ritou Harbor after a long passage across the sea, Ena watches as the sleep disappears from your eyes, only to be replaced by wonder as you take in the silent harbor that is beginning to stir. Ships are anchored along the pier and unloaded. The fishermen are coming back as the sun rises above the horizon and are laying out their catch to sell. Purple banners planted along the boardwalk that are emblazoned with the Electro mitsudomoe proudly signify the reign of the Shogun. Maple trees dot the landscape and Mt. Yougou towers above in the distance with a faint green light emanating from it.

Ena’s eyes narrow and he bites his lip at the familiar sights. Returning to his homeland left him feeling conflicted and while nobody would remember him- namely, the Shogun- unpleasant memories still resurfaced. His abandonment, the place he once called home, and especially now, the regret and rage that fills him as he recalls those he considered family and Dottore who twisted the truth into a lie, ruining his life.

But he casts his thoughts aside. His past no longer defined who he was, especially at this moment. Besides, this was your first time in Inazuma. What kind of tour guide would he be if he couldn’t cast his own prejudices aside?

Long ago, when he was still in the Fatui, you had asked him about his origins.

“Scara, you’re from Inazuma, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I’ve always wanted to visit the nation. Can you take me there someday?”

“Once the situation there clears up, sure.”

He was never able to fulfill that promise with his previous self. Now, he could finally be true to his word, even if you could no longer remember.

Narukami Island dazzles you with its splendor and tradition everywhere you look. Sakura blooms drift along the warm spring breezes in Inazuma City as you pass by stores selling elaborate kimonos and blacksmiths continuing the art of forging that had been passed down for centuries. Ena proves himself to be quite the knowledgeable tour guide, pointing out cultural relics and small facts that you wouldn’t have known otherwise.

Early on in your stay, Ena pays a visit to the Statue of the Omnipresent God near Tenshukaku. He just… stands there. And gazes up at it. In the short time there, a lifetime of emotions crossed his face. Betrayal, wrath, denial, emptiness, regret, and even acceptance.

(You notice that the statue doesn’t look like the Electro Archon at all. What could it possibly be here for then?)

“Let’s go.”

With a light tug at your wrist and a final glance back at Tenshukaku, he leads you ahead without another look back.

The main attraction aside from the city is the Grand Narukami Shrine. From what you’ve heard, the trek there is long and arduous but worth it for its beauty and view over Inazuma. Ena leads you there through Chinju Forest which takes you onto the shortest route. The forest is tranquil and you hear the sound of running water from the large stream cutting through the forest. Blue flowers glow underneath the moonlight in large clumps and tanuki statues are found everywhere. Red torii gates are scattered throughout and mark pathways.

While the forest is beautiful, it’s also a little eerie. The lack of light and silence creeps you out and Ena has the brilliant idea to tell you ghost stories here, of all places.

“There’s a legend of a yokai that lurks in the forest around here,” he begins. “Care to hear the tale?”

You swat at his arm to silence him. He dodges your hand quickly and smiles impishly at you.

“What? Scared already?”

“Shut up.”

You leave the forest, refusing to speak to Ena and ignoring all of his purposeful attempts to rile you up. A blue-haired girl and her brother stand at the entrance to the lavish estate to your right. She pulls out her folding fan, covering the smile on her face at your petty arguments.

The path leading to the shrine is an arduous trek and not to mention slippery, as it had rained the day before. He has to help you up in some parts where there are no stairs, lest you slip and fall. The steps are steep and the path winding around the mountain seems never-ending. After much grumbling and pleading on your part, Ena finally agrees to carry you on his back.

“Thank you…”

“Stop being lazy,” he retorts. You rest your cheek against his shoulder and he immediately goes silent. Your hand brushes against his and in an uncharacteristically bold move, Ena grasps it and squeezes lightly. A light giggle escapes you. His hand is delicate and soft against yours, much like a doll’s.

At that moment, he’s glad you can’t see the blush dusting his cheeks.

But the rumors were right- the view is indeed gorgeous from here. Ena stops at one point and you peer over his shoulder to see the landscape of Inazuma. Jagged boulders float in midair with sakura trees planted for decoration and lanterns to aid shrine-goers in the dead of night. The vast blue sea that seals off Inazuma from the rest of the world stretches as far as the eye can see with several smaller islands and shipwrecks dotting the landscape. Chōchin lanterns hang from the branches of trees, swaying lightly in the wind and scattering sakura petals. Some red foxes are resting at the bottom of the stairs and come up to cautiously sniff at Ena. He leans down to pet them for a bit, allowing you to do the same, before continuing.

As you ascend the stairs winding around the mountain, you pass through countless torii gates with red tōrō lanterns and shoji lamps decorated with the symbol of the shrine flanking your sides and realize the shrine must be just up ahead. And indeed, that hypothesis proves to be true as Ena finishes climbing the last set of stairs and stops in front of the shrine. He takes his hat off and you hop off his back.

The shrine is awe-inspiring. It’s larger than you thought it’d be and built from red lacquered wood with chōchin lanterns hanging from the eaves of the roof. Two thick shimenawa ropes with shide papers attached to them stretch across the entrance and the small body of water the shrine is built upon reflects the early morning sky above. Sessha shrines line the outskirts with various offerings and resemble miniature versions of the Grand Narukami Shrine.

As you take in the sights of the shrine and the view of Inazuma from above, Ena looks around cautiously, hoping that a certain meddling pink kitsune wouldn’t show up.

What a nuisance that’d be, he thinks as he squints against the sun’s rays. He quickly picks up on your confusion as you look around, unsure of what to do.

“Relax,” he says, taking your hand in his. “I’ll guide you through the whole process.”

Ena leads you through everything, from purification to burning incense. At that stage, he had asked you if you had any injuries. You had looked at him strangely and he explained that some people fan the smoke toward themselves for healing purposes.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” you said. “But I’m fine, so there’s no need to.”

You miss how he fans the smoke toward his heart when you turn away. He stares at his Anemo vision for a split second before returning to your side.

You’re staring at the large bell attached to a bundle of multicolored cords hanging from the ceiling. He steps forward and shakes it, making the bell chime loudly. You watch closely as he drops some Mora into the offertory box before bowing twice, clapping twice, and then standing straight with his hands joined in a prayer position. You then do the same, albeit with less confidence.

“Hey,” you whisper. He peeks an eye open. “What do I pray for?”

“Anything,” he whispers back. “Good health, fortune, success at school-”

You roll your eyes.

“- or even luck in romantic relationships.”

You look off to the side at that one, hoping he doesn’t see how the tips of your ears are flushed.

Ena closes his eyes again and thinks for a bit about what else to pray for. He had already wished for acceptance from you during the Lantern Rite. Just now, he had prayed for your health and the safety of Sumeru, along with wishes of well-being for Lesser Lord Kusanali. What else was there?

(He had contemplated praying for Dottore’s downfall but ultimately decided that wouldn’t be appropriate within a shrine setting.)

Pray for (Name) to fall in love with you again, says the voice in his head. You did tell them that praying for romantic luck was common among shrine-goers, so why not do that yourself?

Ah.

Ena feels his face heat up and his heart starts pounding rapidly. With a light shake of his head, he clears his mind.

I wish for (Name) to fall in love with me again. I have already lost Niwa, Katsuragi, the rest of my family in Tatarasuna, and the fledgling child who was just like me long ago. After wandering across the world for several centuries, I long for a place to call home now.

Archons above, I am a changed man now. Please, allow me to have the simple joys of love and solace.

Your trip is nearing its end. The days are much longer now and the weather considerably, almost unbearably at times, warmer.

Now in the last leg of your journey, Ena gazes out at the sea aboard the boat carrying him to your last destination, Kannazuka Island. The last time he went back to Inazuma was during the Vision Hunt Decree to retrieve the Electro Gnosis and that was on orders from the Tsaritsa, plus that was restricted to Narukami Island only. Ever since the disaster that had befallen Tatarasuna, he hadn’t gone back out of fear and shame.

And that is who he really is. A man who was ashamed of his past and afraid of witnessing the consequences of his actions. Ignorance is bliss, yet that belief was unable to prevent the shield of scorn and egotism he had built up for himself from crumbling down in an instant in Sumeru, the cracks that had been forming for a long time now exposed and the truth finally revealed.

How pathetic, mocks the voice in his head that never seems to go away- perhaps the only remnant of his former self. Look at who you’ve become. How weak. What a disappointment. Such activities are beneath you, yet why do you indulge them with your divine presence?

Shut it, he thinks. Enough of you. My roots may be divine, but they have no influence on who I am today. I am a different person now, whether you like it or not.

Ena looks around him and sighs. He had sworn to never return to this nation that he harbored only bitterness and bad memories toward. He had cursed the Archon’s name and denounced her reign, laughed at her frivolous pursuit of eternity, yet here he was once again.

The prodigal son had finally made a return home.

Love really makes people weak, doesn’t it?

The boat gently comes to a stop against the shoreline of Nazuchi Beach. Rotting shipwrecks and driftwood litter the white sands and warm shallow waters. Faded and frayed war banners lie half-buried in the sand with arrowheads embedded everywhere you look- the only remains of the several bloody wars that were waged here.

You hop off the boat, eager to explore what lies ahead, while Ena lingers for a bit to gather his thoughts. Already, he can see the familiar silhouette of the furnace and its purple glow in the distance. An unfamiliar feeling of dread settles in his stomach, twisting and turning anxiously. But dallying and wasting time will not change the outcome of anything.

And so with bated breath, he leads the way. Passing through the entrance that leads to Tatarasuna, the full scale of the site becomes apparent. In the middle, a floating rock formation hovers above the water and is linked to the rest of the island via walkways that are now rotting and falling apart. A strange purple glow radiates from the center. The houses built have long since been abandoned, their windows dark and empty. Hovering above it all is the Mikage Furnace. Although it was shut down a long time ago, small sparks of Electro are still intermittently emitted from it.

The ancient machinery quietly creaks in the wind. The air feels electric with the heavy concentration of Electro energy present, making his hair stand on end. Carts filled with iron ore lie off to the side, looking as if they were haphazardly abandoned. He can’t help but feel a little remorseful at the sorry state the place is in now.

There is one last task for him to finish here- one that he should have completed long ago.

Better late than never, he thinks as he rummages around for a sword of some sort that may have been miraculously left behind. Most of what was here has been pillaged by the Fatui; he recognizes their handiwork- sloppy and inconsiderate, but by a stroke of luck, he finds one.

Meanwhile, you investigate what’s nearby. Soon into your investigation, you find some yellowed notes scattered about. The age of the notes has made the words rather difficult to decipher and the elements have worn away much of the original content.

… We at last made a single nagamaki. We call it the Daitatara Nagamasa. The Inspector was in high spirits, and he and the Vice Armory Officer… Nozomu was so taken by the beauty of the Daitatara Nagamasa that he drew a picture of it.

The Inspector flew into a rage and slashed Katsuragi. The great blade cut deep into the flesh… cast his own nagamaki into the furnace’s flame… Nozomu could not abide by that order, and drew the completely melted weapon out of the furnace… He was horribly burned.

… Nozomu died that night. I daresay that while Sir Katsuragi may have committed malfeasance, it was out of the goodness of his heart.

“(Name), can you go pick some flowers for me?”

His question comes suddenly and unexpectedly. You look up from the notes you are reading. He holds a rusted sword in his hand and gives it a few experimental swings. You soundlessly nod and disappear.

There are some old polishing stones lying beneath a table and he gets to work. It’s the first time he’s touched a blade in 500 years, yet in his mind, he’s transported back to the moment he learned how to forge and polish swords under the watch of Niwa and the others. Their gentle guidance from ages ago resurfaces, guiding him through the sacred process. Bit by bit, the rust is scrubbed away and its original sheen is restored. It is difficult work, but it’s cathartic. It feels like he’s making amends for his past actions.

After wiping away the last few drops of water, the sword is now finished. It shines brilliantly without a speck of rust showing. The handguard and hilt have been cleaned thoroughly and it looks as good as new.

Ena walks over to a grassy spot near the water and digs a small hole, where he places a few items before covering it up again. Some small candies, cigarettes, six coins for safe passage to the afterlife, a white kimono, and a pair of sandals.

He drives the sword into the soft earth. He tugs it a few times to ensure it won’t budge before pulling out some sticks of incense and lighting them. The woody smell with hints of spice and resin is carried through the air.

On your way back now, you smell something spicy and familiar drifting from the direction of the furnace.

Incense?

“I’m back now,” you call out. “What did you need these-”

The lit incense sticks, the sword stuck in the ground, his head bowed. The realization hits you instantly.

So this is why he asked me to gather flowers. It’s a memorial- a grave.

Dendrobiums, stalks of Naku Weed, Sea Ganodermas you had harvested in the shallow beach waters, and deposits of Crystal Marrow are arranged around the symbolic tomb in the best flower arrangement your limited skills could make.

“Thank you,” he whispers as you kneel next to him.

“Who is it for?”

“Everyone,” he says, gesturing around him. “It’s for everyone who was here.”

Ena looks up from the ground and for a second, he thinks he’s gone back in time. The sun shines, bathing the abandoned mine in golden light. The fires in the furnace are stoked and plumes of smoke drift out of the tall chimney. Katsuragi smelts the red-hot steel in the tatara while Niwa hammers and folds the cooling metal. The residents of Tatarasuna, people from all walks of life, children and elders alike, live their lives with joy and pride.

Ah, it’s been so long since he’s last seen them, yet he can still remember their faces clearly as if he never left.

One of them- a child- sees him out of the corner of his eye. He says something- no words can be heard but Ena reads his lips.

Look, Kabukimono is back!

One by one, the rest of the residents take notice of him. They each bear varied expressions on their faces weathered by hard work- some cover their mouths with their eyes blown wide in surprise, others heave a deep sigh of relief with smiles stretching across their faces, while others have tears of joy prickling at the corners of their eyes.

Archons, it’s been so long since I’ve last seen him.

Tell us what you’ve been up to lately! I’m sure you have many stories to share.

My, look at how handsome he is now!

The ward we took in has now finally grown up.

It makes me so proud to see him like this.

There’s a tight feeling in his chest as he stumbles forward toward the sea of familiar faces, beckoning him with warm smiles and welcoming arms. He lurches forward again, and three pairs of warm hands as fleeting as a feather lightly brush over his shoulder, steadying him. Looking up, he sees the familiar faces of Niwa, Katsuragi, and Nagamasa. They beam at him, not a hint of betrayal or anger present in their smiles.

Ena’s heart seizes up in his chest. What does he say in a situation like this?

Did you find your heart at last?

“... Yes,” he finally answers.

“It was here all along.”

We’ve missed you.

Crying is for the weak. It is a useless display of emotions. That is what he has told himself repeatedly throughout his life.

And yet, he can’t help the tears that threaten to spill over.

He rushes forward, longing for one last chance to make amends. They surround him in a warm embrace, murmuring words of reassurance as the tears finally spill over.

“I’m sorry!” he chokes out. “I should have been there! I shouldn’t have run away!”

A strong gust of wind blows through the clearing and the ghosts of Tatarasuna waver, their images beginning to fade and dissipate in specks of golden light.

His blood runs cold in terror.

No, not yet! There’s still so much I want to say- so much I want to apologize for!

The sound of gentle laughter is carried along with the wind and as the last of their shimmering visages fade away, he hears their final words.

What do you mean, Kabukimono?

We forgave you long ago.

It was never your fault to begin with.

You are our pride and joy.

This is goodbye now. But we, the residents of Tatarasuna you considered family, will always be with you.

We can now move on safely to the afterlife.

We can now rest after seeing our little Kabukimono at peace with himself.

Thank you for returning home one last time.

The last of their afterimages vanish, leaving nothing behind. The sun retreats behind the clouds once more, the clearing now cloudy as it was before. But at last, Ena feels at peace- as if a great burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders. The unfinished task from centuries ago had finally been completed.

“Let’s go home now, (Name).”

Ena has been acting strange lately.

On the way back, he kept pacing back and forth. He had kept toying with his Anemo vision and staring at the sky. When he thought you were asleep, he would hold you tightly in his arms as if he was afraid to lose you. You would catch him with his hands clasped together and praying when he thought you weren’t looking.

But praying to who exactly?

At last, you are at home in Sumeru again. It is late at night now, and the streets are silent. Most of the residents are asleep except for a few late-night stragglers coming home from work or the tavern. That night, you fell into a deep sleep and for the first time ever since you were a child, you dreamt.

But much to your surprise, you see Ena and Lesser Lord Kusanali in your dream soon after falling asleep. This feels vaguely familiar and something tells you this was done on purpose.

“Welcome back,” she says. “How was your trip?”

“Fine. I enjoyed it,” he responds.

She giggles. “That’s good to hear. I take it that your goal is complete and that you got to tie up some loose ends?”

“You could say that.”

The little Archon turns her attention to you now. Her eyes peer at you curiously and you get the vague feeling that she can read your mind.

“You must be (Name). You’re a smart cookie- smarter than people give you credit for. I’m sure you’ve wondered what you and Ena are to each other at least once by now.”

“There’s been a few hints dropped here and there throughout our journey that made me question the nature of our relationship or who we once were,” you admit.

“But I can’t help but wonder what happened to… ”

You gesture at the space between you and Ena.

“... Us?”

A translucent green box materializes between her hands. It glows and floats, emitting specks of Dendro energy intermittently.

“Please suspend disbelief for a moment, as what I’m about to say may sound unrealistic. This box you see here is a copy of his memories from his creation up until recently. It contains the true, unaltered version of history.”

Creation? Copy of his memories? The unaltered version of history?

A thousand questions swirl inside your mind, waiting to be asked, yet they all dissipate at her next question.

“Do you wish to remember the past?”

You hesitantly look at Ena. He turns away as if he is ashamed of meeting your gaze.

“This decision is all up to you,” she adds. “Rest assured that whatever you choose will not affect your relationship with Ena. He has told me that himself.

“But please bear in mind that in his past life, Ena was what many would consider as ‘evil’. He had committed countless crimes and many people had died because of him. With this preface, do you still wish to remember the past?”

You glance at Ena again, who is still avoiding your gaze. The delicate balance of your relationship hangs on the line. Was it even worth knowing the truth? You were perfectly content with the way things were as of now.

… But the voice in the back of your head urges you to dig deeper and uncover the truth.

“I still do. Please, show me everything.”

Ena winces slightly, bracing himself for the worst.

“Very well then.”

The green box slowly drifts toward you before suddenly slamming into your chest. You let out a choked gasp, your vision slowly going dark as all his memories begin to flood your mind. The last thing you hear is Ena’s concerned question.

“Will they be alright?”

“It’s the same as when you regained your memories,” replies Lesser Lord Kusanali. “They’ll be in for a shock but will ultimately emerge with a newfound understanding of who you are.”

“Set him free?”

“A puppet? What’s he doing here…”

“You’re a human as far as I’m concerned.”

“What a fine blade! Nagamasa will be thrilled.”

“He took it straight from the chest of one of his innocent servants.”

“What a joke… it’s just ashes… nothing left but ashes.”

“Are you deaf or just stupid?”

“Hey!”

That’s the sound of your own voice. In the midst of his memory space, you freeze. The version of yourself you see is one from several years ago, back when you were still in the Akademiya. The sight of the green uniform and beret sends a wave of nostalgia through your heart. Ena resembles the version of himself you saw in the photo at your house- dressed in shades of dark purple and black with accents of red and gold.

“What did you want to tell me? You dragged me out here late at night so it better be worth-”

“I hate you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hate you,” he repeated. “Everything about you annoys me greatly. You can’t handle your alcohol, yet you still insist on having drinks every week. I can’t tell if you’re idiotic or-”

“It’s Mondstadt, what else am I supposed to do here? And why is it that you carry me home on your back each time without fail?”

“Because you’d look pretty pathetic otherwise. I’d get secondhand embarrassment if I didn’t do something about it.”

You rolled your eyes at his remarks.

“Your taste in music sucks and you always have the strangest ideas. Seriously, where do you even come up with-”

“If you think they’re so strange, then why did you agree to dance with me in the town square yesterday? Entertain my silly idea of participating in the festival that was happening last week even though, in your opinion, you thought it was ‘stupid and a waste of time?’ Although, it looked like you were having fun as well…”

“...That’s beside the point. You also talk too much. It hurts my ears just listening to you sometimes.”

“Is that why you were glaring at the guy I was chatting with the other day?”

“No- I mean, yes.”

The look on your face tells him you don’t believe his blatant lie one bit.

“I can’t think properly when you’re around me,” he snapped in an attempt to change the subject. “You make me feel strange and I hate it. Whenever your eyes linger on me, I feel strangely exposed. When you touch me, my skin burns and I can’t breathe for some strange reason. You wear your heart on your sleeve but you’re also difficult to understand. I can’t figure you out for the life of me. You cry and laugh when you’re mad, but when you’re actually upset, you hide your tears and go silent. You’re a walking contradiction, which makes me even more confused as to why I feel this- hey, why are you laughing?”

He glared at your figure shaking with laughter and a clear expression of understanding written all over your face.

“Nothing, it’s just… I think we both know why you’re feeling this way, Scara,” you whispered as you leaned in to cup his cheek. He shied away from your touch but still accepted it.

“Don’t make me say it,” he grumbled quietly. “It’s embarrassing.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into your hand cradling his cheek.

“But it’s the truth, is it not? In that case, what is there to be embarrassed about?”

“But…”

You’re so close to him that he could feel the soft exhale of your breath tickle his cheek. He looked away, avoiding eye contact with you, but he could still feel your burning gaze of adoration on his skin.

“Say it,” you breathed. “I want to hear you say those three words, Scara.”

“... You are the one I hold dearest to my heart,” he finally whispered. “You are my first and only love.”

The gap between you closes. He saw the moonlight reflected in your irises clearly and your eyes glimmering with hope, heard the way your breath hitched in anticipation. As his lips brushed against yours, he finally whispered those three words you’d been longing to hear.

“I love you.”

With a start, you are brought back to reality. Lesser Lord Kusanali and Ena watch you with concern in their eyes.

“Welcome back,” begins the former. “How do you feel with this newfound information?”

“A little overwhelmed,” you admit. “But everything makes much more sense now.”

You turn your attention toward Ena, who eyes you warily much like a stray cat would.

“Well then? What is your verdict?” he snaps harshly. “Going to abandon me the same way my mothe- my creator did?”

“Quite the opposite, actually.”

You mull over your words momentarily, wondering where even to begin.

“What do you do with a broken doll?” you finally ask. Ena looks at you strangely, like he wasn’t expecting you to open with that starter of all possible options.

“Do you fill in the cracks with gold to embrace its flaws? Paint over it to hide the defects underneath? Give it a newer and stronger shell? Or perhaps discard it entirely in favor of a new one? From what I saw, you’ve cycled through all those options haven’t you, Ena?”

He looks away.

“Like the Inazuman art of kintsugi, you tried to embrace your defects when you were still known as Kabukimono. Despite being considered flawed, you still attempted to show how beautiful and strong you could be. During your time in the Fatui when you were known as the Balladeer, you hid that part of yourself underneath a veil of arrogance, hating how weak you were despite said weakness being something your first self saw as a sign of strength more than anything. As the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom or Shouki no Kami, the Prodigal, you quite literally gave yourself a stronger shell in your attempt to ascend to godhood. But despite the grandness of it all, it was nothing more than a cheap veneer on the same self-loathing that brought everything crashing down when you were so close to everything you had ever hoped for.”

You reach your hands out and intertwine them with his.

“In such cases where all other options have failed, starting over is the best decision. The neglect and decay that have accumulated over several hundred years will be purged and a new healthy base made from only the purest of white wood will be used.”

You squeeze his hands lightly.

“Sometimes, you have to let those parts of yourself go. Otherwise, you will never obtain happiness. By discarding who you once were, you’ve healed and learned how to atone for your actions.

“You’ve changed for the better, Ena. The metaphorical blood on your hands has been washed clean. So then why should I abandon you? For abandoning you who I once loved, still love, and will continue to love means invalidating all your past struggles and how much you’ve changed. What kind of lover would I be if I did that?”

Lesser Lord Kusanali claps and smiles.

“That was a good use of metaphors, (Name). I liked it!”

Ena lets out a long sigh of relief and tips his head back. He hadn’t cried ever since his creation 500 years ago but now, he was filled with the overwhelming urge to cry. There’s a burning sensation at the back of his eyes and he fights the urge to release everything he had been holding back.

Is this what people called tears of joy?

“Thank you, (Name).”

What once was has now been rediscovered, no longer consigned to a thing of the past. That which he had longed for was now finally in his arms. Ena closes his eyes and pulls you into a hug. It’s a wonderful feeling- forgiveness and love.

Maybe, just maybe, he can now finally be at peace with himself.

[lovepersevering13]

Now could you elaborate on Michael's autism

Alright it’s Michael’s turn!

I want to preface this part the same as before: I’m not a psychiatrist, this isn’t how autism is experienced by everyone and let me know if anything is incorrect :) oh also I’m a little bit more educated on how Autism is shown in girls so this one is a bit of a mess.

Ok so for Michael I kinda had to think for a bit about some like concrete evidence because I didn’t have anything annotated for him like Tori but I think I’ve come up with a pretty compelling argument (also I thought I’d let you know that as I was doing this I started to realise Michael may have ADHD but I don’t really go into that too much).

Firstly:

Alice Oseman herself supports this headcanon so…. Anhahahahajaja omg I can’t explain how happy this makes me! Anyway, let’s get into what I found in Solitaire!

1. Masking

- “Do you get angry a lot?” I say.

“I’m always angry,” he says.” Solitaire, Page 213

Ok we know Michael generally is a very upbeat, positive person on the outside but as we get to know him we learn he’s only barely happier than Tori. When I think about this covering up of his anger with overly positive emotions it is clear to that he is masking (Suppressing Autistic traits). Pessimism is a common m trait of Autism and the way I see it, Michael is overcompensating for this by acting super happy all the time to cover it up.

2. Deficit in social understanding

- “Do you remember when he tried to get everyone to do a flash mob for the Year 11 prank?” says Nick. “And in the end he just did it by himself on the lunch tables?” Nick Nelson, Solitaire, Page 39.

This quote when Nick and Charlie are talking about Michael shows and extreme lack of care about social consequences.

- “Michael Holden has swooped into the restaurant.” Solitaire, page 46

Ok so this quote and the entire scene on pages 46/47 where Michael shows up unannounced because he wants to ask Tori something displays extreme impulsivity and impulsivity is a common Autistic trait. He also didn’t care about the lack of social etiquette displayed by crashing a hangout he wasn’t invited to.

- “Michael is helping himself to our leftover starters” Solitaire, Page 48

Again, lack of social awareness because you aren’t really supposed to crash someone else’s dinner and just start eating their food.

- “He races inside and, without bothering to let me leave or shut the door, he lifts the toilet seat and starts to pee.” Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

LACK OF SOCIAL ETTIQUITE. DUDE.

- “He’s the strangest person I’ve ever met.” Solitaire, Page 62

- “I know Nick and I said he’s weird - and he is weird -“ Charlie Spring, Solitaire, Page 177

- “He looks sort of out of place everywhere.” Solitaire, (I lost the page)

People with Autism are often described as being “strange,” “weird,” or “peculiar,” because they are different from their peers which can make them stand out and struggle to fit in.

- “I, er, didn’t get on too well with the people there. Not the teachers, not the students…” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 148

Because of the fact that people with Autism struggle with social understanding it can be very difficult to make friends and get along with other people.

- “I’ve never been good enough,” he says. “I get so stressed out, I don’t make friends - God, I can’t make friends.” His eyes glaze over. “Sometimes I just wish I were a normal human being. But I can’t. I’m not. No matter how hard I try.” Michael Holden, Solitiare, Page 376

Yeah, this quote hurts my heart. So many people with Autism feel as though they don’t fit in and that they aren’t normal. When you don’t have a diagnosis it can be especially difficult because you don’t know why. You know there’s something different about you, you know other people are doing and feeling things you aren’t and you know you’re doing and feeling things other people aren’t, but you don’t know why. It can be super isolating.

3. Challenging Authority Figures

- “…having that argument with Mr Yates during his mock exams!” Either Nick or Charlie, Solitaire, Page 40

- “I swore at Kent.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 269

It’s very common for people with Autism to challenge authority figures. Generally this is because they often naturally assume equanimity and don’t understand why some people should get more respect then others if they aren’t seemingly deserving of it. This stems from having a heightened sense of justice and empathy.

4. Autism and Sexualtiy

- “I guess you could say I’m not too fussy about gender.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

We know Michael’s canonically Pan and as we’ve previously discussed (read Tori’s part for more info) Autism and the LGBTQ+ community are heavily intertwined. I tried to look into Autism’s correlation to Pansexuality but couldn’t find anything specific.

I also wanted to add in a little fact about how Neurodivergent people tend to gravitate towards eachother and queer people tend to do the same so Michael and Tori makes a lot of sense.

5. Special Interests/HyperFixations

Ok so, Michael gets pretty into Solitiare. Right from the start he’s obsessed. Taking photos of the posts, insisting they go to the meet up. I’d probably say it’s a hyperfixation.

And DISNEY. Holy heck Michael loves Disney… and if you haven’t caught on already, yeah imma say it’s a special interest.

- “He gasps and grabs a third DVD, leaps across the room to the flat-screen and switches it on. “We’re watching beauty and the beast,” he says.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 115

I mean look at how excited he gets over ‘Beauty and the Beast’.

6. School

- “Seriously. I haven’t gotten above a C grade in any subject since Year 8.”

“It seems almost impossible for someone like Michael to be unintelligent. People like Michael - people who get stuff done - they’re always smart. Always.” Solitaire, Page 188

- “When it comes to exams… I generally don’t write what they want me to write. I’m not very good at, well, sorting out all the stuff in my head.“

“I just don’t know what the examiners want to hear. I don’t know whether I just forget things, or maybe I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain it. I just don’t know.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 118

- “Because I hate school!” This is quite loud. He starts to shake his head.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

A lot of people with Autism struggle with school and like Tori points out, it’s not because they’re not smart, Michael is smart. It’s just that the education system isn’t fitted to benefit Neurodivergent children. So many things affect Autism in schools. The dreadful sensory environment, lack of control over what they can and can’t do and the difficult social pressures.

7. Emotional dysregulation

- “He clenches his fist and he snarls. He actually snarls at me.

“Maybe you are a manically depressed psychopath.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 163

Emotional Dysregulation is the inability to control the intensity and expression of emotions. This is common in people with Autism and can result in overly intense emotions and lashing out. I think this is something that heavily impacts both Tori and Michael and results in a lot of their arguments. The aforementioned quote is just one example of how quickly and dramatically their arguments blow up due to this.

- “His face contorts into a kind of scrunched-up snarl, his fists curl, his skin drains of colour, and he storms past the man and tramps over to the benches. He reaches a row of lockers and looks into them, blankly, chest visibly expanding and contracting. With an almost terrifying malice, he throws a crazed punch at the lockers, wailing a subdued howl of rage. Turning, he hurls a kick at a pile of racing helmets, scattering them about the floor. He clutches his hair, as if trying to pull it out.” Solitaire, Page 211

Oh there is just so much to cover here. So this is a prime example of an Autistic meltdown. Autistic meltdowns can be caused by overwhelming emotions (In this situation that is Michael loosing his race) and result in an outburst which can include crying, screaming (“howl of rage”), aggression (punching the lockers and kicking the helmets) and self injurious behaviours (Pulling his hair). It’s probably worth mentioning that a few of the outbursts he has towards teachers that I mentioned earlier are probably also meltdowns.

8. Stimming

- “Michael starts whistling.” Solitaire, page 198

Whistling is a form of stimming, this particular quote is from when they are in Truham looking for Charlie, considering Michael’s disdain for Truham I can imagine it was a slightly stressful environment to be back in which would validly result in a need for stimming. I actually couldn’t find any other examples of stimming except possibly the hair pulling that was mentioned in the last quote.

9. Pattern Recognition

So pattern recognition is the autistic brains increased ability to recognise patterns and in Solitaire Michael is the first person to put together the fact that all of Solitaire’s pranks were related to Tori. I really can’t be bothered to find the quote where they talk about those

10. Safe foods

I think that Tea is probably a safe food for Michael because he is often mentioned to have a mug of Tea in his hands. (But I’m not British so maybe this is like normal? How much tea do British people actually drink?)

1. Miscellaneous Quotes

- Since when did you acquire a body temperature” Solitaire, page 112

I know it’s probably supposed to be related to figure skating but struggling with temperature regulation is very common amongst people with Autism.

- “Most of the time at school I can’t even decide what pen to use.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, page 149

Indecisiveness is very common amoungst people with Autism

Alright that’s a wrap on Michael Holden. I’m thinking of doing a conjoined part for Charlie and Oliver if anyone would be interested in reading that :)

Some of the resources I used:

https://livingautism.com/decision-making-problems-adults-asd/

Thermal Perceptual Thresholds are typical in Autism Spectrum Disorder but ...

https://sparkforautism.org/discover_article/managing-emotions/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7430467/

https://neuroclastic.com/autism-and-responding-to-authority/?amp

[fullofgutsndopamine]

I'm Thinking Of You (Brand New)

or: the coffee shop literally not a soul asked for but i'm self indulgent and like writing about him so

more hasan here

you figure there's three absolutes in life that you could truly boil it down to: one, if you're running late there's going to be a train stopped in town, always. Second-death, self explanatory, and third: the guy behind the coffee counter is going to spell your name wrong.

the first time, you gave leanway: it's early, 5am, and even though he was loudly singing, dancing around with a co worker and took your order enthusiastically (seriously, who makes jokes at 5am? the sun isn't even up yet)

you say your name, even spell it out-and there's an extra three letters in there. you roll your eyes and move on with your day.

it's when it happens for the third time that you're suspicous.

your name isn't even difficult you insist, and you aren't sure where this passion came from, especially because you're ranting in the middle of a work meeting after a co worker made a passing joke about you stealing someone's coffee because the name was so butchered-

they draw attention to the small collection of hearts that dance underneath your name, hidden by the cardboard sleeve so you wouldn't normally see it-

and your face flushes red.

"He's just being nice." You insist, "They live off tips. I'm the only asshole who puts a dollar in their tip jar every morning-"

when your co worker comes the next morning, the tell tale sign of going to the same coffee shop with their name spelled completely right-even though you've never met anyone with a name like theirs-you figure this means war.

5am, bright and early, you're at the door-and there he is-his apron tied half lazily around his waist, and you suddenly see these dark circles under his eyes, you're about to chalk it up to a lack of sleep, until he brings the permanent marker to the cardboard cup and you swear you see the son of a bitch smile-

"Wait!" You try again, rub your forehead, "Let me spell my name for you, yeah?"

He smirks, nods enthusiastically, "For sure. Go ahead."

And it seems like he must be writing your name in some fancy script, adding lavish loops or something to it, doesn't let you see the cup until he calls for you (even though you're the only person in the shop at this hour)

"Here we are. I think it's perfect."

And your eyes narrow at him, especially with the smirk he seems to have plastered on his face at all times-

You sigh. There's simply no way-remember the dark bags under his eyes, how tired he is.

your shoulders hunch, but you grab it, mumble a thank you, turn to leave-

“Hey wait!” he calls after you, and you see his name tag for the first time, hasan, with some elaborate, lavish font, those silly hearts, the same on your cup-dance under it and you realize it must be his thing

“it’s no fun if you don’t fight back. c’mon!” he teases.

“I just-in what world does someone add a x and a p in the middle of a name?” you sigh.

and he smirks, “Lemme see your cup. let me try one more time.”

and everything in you says no, but you hand it over, he takes the permanent marker clipped to his apron, writes something again before passing it out, a large ex through the name he butchered and again, your name still spelled wrong-but with a phone number under it.

“Give me another try to get it right.”

and you stumble out something about being late to work, your face bright red, as you sit in the car, take your phone out, and before you can regret it, draft a text out to him.

[elvenbeard]

Kerry looked at the lack of new messages on his phone, not really impatient, not nervous, but something strange in-between... Full of anticipation, more like it. Right on the edge of where it was still exciting but also slowly turning into nerve-wracking agony.

It was almost 9 p.m., the music was blaring across the dancefloor the next room over, and even here, in this little hallway to the side, the laser show was still impressively bold. Private braindance cabins were lined up closely here, clients came and went, paid him little mind as they passed him by on their way in and back out of Lizzie’s Bar.

Not Kerry’s usual scene, admittedly. Not for lack of trying or interest, it was more this place in particular. The music, the crowd, the fashion and food… just awfully reminded him how fucking old he was. Usually, to make it through the night in a bar like this, he’d need a decent amount of booze, even better some candy, but currently that was still out of the question, as his date for the night hadn’t arrived yet… And damn, he was running late. Kerry wished he could say that was unusual. He hoped it was part of the plan, at least.

Or maybe he just had trouble finding him here… Kerry had decided to remove himself from the crowd a little, had noticed a few stares here and there. Not that he minded, but again, he was waiting still, and didn’t really want to mingle on his own, or worse, however unlikely it was in this place, spend the night giving autographs. He looked back on the screen, mindlessly scrolled through the last text messages…

“Hey handsome,” a voice purred next to him, pulled him back to reality. Had Kerry not instantly recognized it, he may have panicked, or just made up a blatant lie as to why he had to leave. Instead, he could finally slip his phone back in his pocket and looked up with a smile. A young man leaned against the wall right next to him, provocatively – he definitely fit in here better than Kerry did. Colorful hair and a cocky grin, striking amber eyes framed by smudgy dark eyeliner. Kerry only just managed to hold back the question where in his closet V had kept the neon-purple net-tanktop he wore, if he’d had it hidden in some box or corner. Knowing him though, he probably saw it in a store and had the idea for this mystery date-night before even buying it.

“You look bored. How come, in a place as interesting as this?” V, no, the mysterious stranger of course, asked. He lifted his hand to gently tug on Kerry’s jacket’s lapel. Kerry smiled.

“Hmm, guess I didn’t meet anyone that caught my interest yet,” he said, couldn’t resist reaching up to quickly brush his fingers along V’s arm, across his hand, squeeze his fingers just for a moment. He could see in V’s eyes that he was struggling to stay serious and cool, noticed the light flush of his cheeks. Kerry couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well,” V said, pausing briefly, before looking Kerry in the eyes again, “Maybe I can be the one to make this night more interesting for you…”

Gently he took Kerry’s hand, and Kerry more than willingly followed as he led him to the dancefloor.

jasdökfhadfaf okay I haven't done something in this format for a while and it was really fun XD Sorry for the long post but yes!!

In my hc they often go on "mystery" dates like this, sometimes more elaborate scenarios like here with a secretive meeting in a location previously agreed upon. Sometimes it's just something simple as meeting for a coffee and pretending to be someone else or not knowing each other XD The tradition started at Caliente's when V was late and Kerry was (rightfully) mad, pretended he didn't know him and complained to him about how his boyfriend is never on time (because talking about difficult stuff like this "indirectly" with a stranger feels easier for some reason). Vince played along right away, also blaming the boyfriend for being really shitty and yeah XD It developed from there just into a fun thing to spice things up a bit now and then when normal life and appointments and all that stuff gets too overwhelming. A little escape from reality if you will (and simultaneously learning to appreciate reality again, too, because usually after a night out like that they're both exhausted and just happy to stay in and cuddle the next day xD).

IM VERY NORMAL ABOUT THEM AND DONT DAYDREAM ABOUT THIS A LOT AT ALL BTW öakhjsdfdasfadösfhasdfdsfa I'll see myself out xDD

[gayteddy]

ok. ocs time. ummmmm long so under cut :3

bello (they/them) is a namekian. db really doesnt do much with namekians like. At All. not that i expect them to bc toriyama doesnt like elaborating on anything. but basically bellos premise is that during the couple of months where the namekians are living on earth a group of them really grow to like earth and dont really Want to go to a new planet. so they stay.

the war on namek was going on for a Long time. i dont think its ever really explicitly stated but i kind of imagined its the reason piccolo ended up on earth in the first place. and so while bello knows namekian customs and things the culture was never really something they got to experience. its hard to uphold that kind of thing when theres only like 100 of your species left on a planet ravaged by war.

db does not explain things i already said this. but when they ask for a "new" planet from the dragon balls its not really clear whether theyre asking to be taken to a new planet to live on or to Restore planet namek. i tend to think its the first one, and even if its guaranteed that the new planet is livable and with the resources they need, it doesnt tell them anything about the geography or ecosystem of the planet. and building a new society from the very ground up is a difficult and long process.

so it kinda seems obvious to me that there would be some that would want to just. stay on earth. lol. and bello is one of them

theyre relatively young. probably a couple years older than tien/yamcha ? they were a healer on namek and now i get to explain my lore on healing magic

namekians are naturally able to heal and regenerate themselves and i think that healing magic is an extension of that. when they do it on themselves their body is able to intuit what to do through the process of naturally healing. the same goes for healing other namekians - anatomy is the same. theyre able to stimulate the natural healing process and speed it up.

however i think it wouldnt be as easy to heal other species. humans heal differently than namekians and theres this language difference between their bodies. humans dont regrow their limbs and organs. and so to stimulate that in a human a lot more intricate knowledge of their anatomy is needed.

bello wants to continue being a healer on earth and therefore is studying human anatomy at some kind of college and. basically Inventing a new healing branch for humans. they want to be able to help people heal from things that humans cant normally heal from - regrowing limbs being a big one. so thats their current objective while getting used to living on earth.

im not sure when baby marimba comes into the picture timeline wise, but i imagine shes around the same age as marron. and yeah i did make bello date both tien and yamcha #throuple #almost entirely bald throuple

i migggghtttt go into my thoughts on tien and yamcha bc theres a lot i could talk about there. i think db really sort of. downplays how tiens upbringing would affect him as an adult and i think that he struggles a lot with feeling like he needs to atone for the things he did at the crane school. etc etc

BUT i will talk about baby marimba and chiaotzu. baby marimbas best friend is (judes oc) viola who is a girl sooooo marimba is a girl. and of course she does NOT like boys! she hangs out with marron and viola mostly but also with pan.

chiaotzu is like her uncle and takes care of her a lot while bello is at school / work / etc. he and tien are extremely close and i cant really imagine either one of them moving away without the other so they def live together. and chiaotzu looooooves baby marimba they play together all the time and she loves helping him cook

wait okay this is so long i will stop there but. oc lore :3

[kahin]

hello! to all my muslim friends with contamination and/or religious OCD i want to share a few tips with you:

your ablution/wudu' does not need to be elaborate to be accepted. Intend for yourself to do your wudu' and say it out loud/whispered if you need to confirm to yourself, say bismillah al rahman al raheem, wash your face and hands and arms up to the elbow, wipe your head with water, and wipe your feet with water. if you end up needing to wash your hands or anything else in between, that is fine because you are still technically still doing your wudu so you do not need to be redoing steps.

regarding any discharge: if you bleed outside your period then that is considered istihadah and you don't need to do any full-body purificiation, but you just need to repeat your wudu' before every prayer; the normal, healthy, chronic discharge that a lot of people get does not invalidate your wudu so no need to repeat it.

yes, doing your prayer correctly can go a long way, but remember the important thing is to get it done. your prayers will inshallah be accepted as long as you haven't done anything to warrant it not being accepted (i.e. you're not facing the qiblah for example)

there is no demand for preciseness. if you're stuck in a spiral of, for example, 'i am not facing the qiblah exactly oh no', i know it's hard, but do not fret. Allah has made most things easy, and He is the most understanding out of everyone. if you are a few degrees off, you are okay. Facing the qiblah means being in at least the general vicinity of it even if you aren't 1000% precise. Diagram below should help explain what I mean.

[ID: A black arrow pointing northwest on a white canvas. Two red arrows originating from the same point as the black arrow are pointing in the same direction a little bit apart from the black arrow. end ID.]

Say the black arrow is where the Qiblah is as mathematically precisely as possible. The red arrows are the direction you may end up praying at. This is completely fine, given that you did your effort to get as close as possible to the Qiblah as you could, despite it being a few degrees off. Your prayer is fine. You don't need to repeat it or spend ages adjusting that prayer mat.

a lot of guilt can really be racked up from not praying. i get that. Allah also understands, because even if not necessarily difficult for everyone, prayer is by design inconvenient because it forces you to break from your routine. start off small, even if it isn't all your prayers. that can be sorted later. you not praying does not make you a disbeliever so you do not need to put yourself through the process of re-entering islam everytime you miss a few prayers.

unrelated to prayer but if you have thoughts of disbelief or blasphemy, remember that you are not judged for anything that's in your head. it's in your head, so you don't need to retake your oath or start repenting like crazy.

if you have any other disability in addition to OCD that you're worried about repeating prayer or wudu (e.g. you have a neurological condition that makes you lose control of your bladder or you have a colostomy bag), there is no need to. you can do wudu' before every prayer and whatever happens after that is not your issue

if you're stuck in the spiral of doubting your prayer and needing to check and remember that you did all your steps, you can try recording yourself praying and checking the footage after. also remember that if you do forget to do a whole rakah or a step, you can simply do the prostration of forgetfulness at the end of your prayer

I may have missed a few things, so just let me know. But Islam is meant to be as easy as you need it to be and Allah is the most forgiving and understanding. OCD is genuinely debilitating and is in fact a disability. You have a condition, of course God understands. I know it's not easy as just 'oh yeah I can just stop constantly repeating my wudu' but sometimes just having that knowledge can go a long way.

[coffbeanie]

One of my biggest “what if” thoughts for miraculous ladybug is “what if the writers let Nathaniel be another love interest for Marinette even after Evillustrator?”

(I elaborate on this under the cut!!)

Just bc as someone who was in the fandom (and by that I mean I watched the show on YouTube and saw fanart via Pinterest and google images) like before season 2 but after season 1 ended, Nathaniel not only seemed to me like a well liked character, but there was also a good amount of fanart with him and Mari

I feel like he was kinda the go to for people who didn’t quite like him with Adrien (I always wondered why she didn’t just pick him-he seemed just as cute and as nice and he liked her back) and I also see him as that “Luka before Luka” as in he was another guy to ship Mari with, and they’re both kinda emo with the artsy vibe

I say this bc 1. I think it would have been interesting story wise and 2. As someone who was present when Nath as a fairly popular side character it’s sad to see him be neglected by the narrative

1. I’m not saying the writers should have scrapped Luka entirely and replaced him with Nath- obviously not Luka’s important to the story. I also understand that having too many love interests would have been difficult to tackle, but it would have been fun to see Nathaniel go “oh yeah I had a crush on you lmao kinda awkward it’s fine tho i’m trying to move on and I might be into ladybug now” and to them have Mari do a double take and be like “crap maybe I do like you a bit”

Also I think it would have provided interesting development for Mari to have Marc as a romantic rival-characters like Chloe, Lila, and Kagami (at least when she was first introduced) were all kinda put into a bad light, Chloe and Lila cause they were just mean and manipulative respectively, and Kagami cause she first came off as kinda mean and cold, giving Mari enough reason to dislike them and question whether they’re good for Adrien outside of also being jealous, but Marc wouldn’t be like that for Nath-he’s a quiet kid who seems nice enough, and he just writes fanfics, plays soccer, and doesn’t want to be bothered. If liked Nath enough, she would just have to accept that she’s feeling pure jealously cause you can’t really hate him for any other reason, also could have led to fun shenanigans to her trying to justify not liking Marc when she really can’t, she’s just mad cause he’s getting close to Nath

Also cause it would have been interesting to see Mari almost be rejected-maybe it’s just me but I could never really accept Kagami as a romantic rival cause they always portrayed Adrien as almost hesitant to get with Kagami, and his love for Ladybug would triumph over all(yeah they would do Chat getting over Ladybug for an episode it barely lasted) so I couldn’t see them actually being together and having the both of them be happy. Also Chloe and Lila weren’t fit for Adrien just cause they sucked

And for Luka he’s just like still there, and while he knows now that Mari and Adrien are made for each other before he had this “but I’ll still be here waiting for you if you need me :D” vibe

I think Mari being rejected by a character romantically if he was presented as a legit love interest would add more to that “just a normal girl with a normal life” cause we all don’t get what we want and people we like aren’t just going to stay waiting around for us-if Nath clicked with Marc more than he did with her than she would just have to deal with it, and seeing her deal with a still kinda hard (cause rejection is difficult) but realistic situation (something must of could relate to as it doesn’t relate to superhero-ing) would have been refreshing

2. I understand as I’m typing that I’m slightly biased towards Nath (were all the fanarts I saw as a kid really that popular? Or was I just being given Nathaniel centric art caused that’s what I looked up? I can’t remember honestly) but I’m still disappointed with how he was being pushed aside in the show, especially when-the character who would draw his superhero self insert at first denying a miraculous when presented one, and having to share his hero debut with three other people

(Penalteam could have worked if it was more Sabrina centric cause it’s hard to get out of a toxic friendship so yeah she would have gotten her miraculous last, because while getting away from Chloe definitely took her some time, ultimately she was still able to do it and become a hero, and what a better villain for her to fight than a whole bunch of Chloes; Ivan, Marc, and Nath should have gotten their own eps and I stand by this)

Idk as someone who got into the show bc of the Evillustrator episode, it’s just hard to see my fav boi be pushed to the side :((

If you read all the way to the end, thank you and pls share ur thoughts!!! Especially any Nathaniel fans wanna know if anything else has thought of this.

[im-not-a-l0ser]

Beanies, Chapter 17

Hey.... so it's been a while.

Richie might’ve cleaned more in the last 7 hours than he had the entire time he lived there. 

Many reasons for that. The anxiety from having Max in their fucking house, not wanting anyone to get sick, wanting to make sure everything Max might even sort of need for baking was clean, the anxiety from having Max in their fucking house.

Lots of reasons. 

Max was planning to arrive around 9 am, which Richie thought it might’ve been too early, but Max made the case that the cake would need time to cool before being frosted. Which was fair. Richie didn’t want to risk anything. Anyway, Trevor wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.

“So, instead of just baking it yourself— which, you’ve done before— you invited Max over so you can watch him bake a cake,” Trevor said. “Do you realise how weird that is?”

“Max offered, Trevor. It wasn’t my idea.”

“Oh, of course he did,” Trevor said, in a tone that Richie didn't really understand. He still sighed.

“Can’t you just leave this alone?”

“Richie, every single day since I met Rudy, you teased me for liking him— and this was before I told you I liked him!  So, yeah, I’m gonna tease you about it, whether you like him or not. Just like you did.” 

“That’s different,” Richie said, “You hadn’t told me that you liked Rudolph, but you didn’t have to! I’m not an idiot, Trevor! First of all, he’s totally your type. Strong, but not that bulky, overcompensating at first but that mellows out after a while, and I know there are exceptions, but you like blue eyes a lot. Not to mention your habit of dressing more provocatively when you know you’re going to be around someone you like.”

“I don’t have a type.”

“Dude,” Richie deadpanned. “I can’t even deal with this right now,” He said instead of elaborating, shaking his head. 

Trevor sighed.

“I’ll tone it down,” He relinquished. “For today, at least. It’s just really difficult. You’re not the kind of person to invite someone over, especially on such short notice.”

“Well, I’m kind of desperate, Trevor.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” Trevor teased. “Sorry, it was right there.” Richie sighed. “I’m gonna get us some doughnuts. Want one?”

“Two please,” Richie said. “Shoot, what about Max?”

“I’ll get him some too, don’t worry,” Trevor dismissed, waving his hand absently. 

“I wasn’t worried,” Richie said, “I think that anxious is probably a better word for it. I know we’re not in our school here, but it’s not as if our house looks normal.” Richie motioned to the dozens of action figures, amiibos, funko pops and bobble heads framing their tv stand.

“Yeah, but Max knows you're a mega-nerd; it’s not like he’ll be surprised.”

“Yeah, Max knows I’m a nerd, but he prboably wouldn’t expect our parents to be bigger nerds than we are,” Richie argued, “Especially since we’re all nerds in different ways. I’m a weeb, you’re a thespian, dad’s a Trekkie and Whovian, mom’s a fantasy nerd.” 

“I don’t think Max can tell the difference between Assasin’s Creed characters and Hamilton characters.”

“That’s a poor example if you’re trying to say Max wouldn’t be able to tell how nerdy we are.” 

“Okay, fair,” Trevor said, “He couldn’t tell a Project Diva character from a Star Trek character,” He ammended. Richie snorted.

“I hate… that you’re probably right.” Richie shook his head solemnly. “He’ll learn in time.” Trevor giggled alongside him. 

“Is that a threat?”

“Only if you make it one.”

The twins shared more laughter until there was a knock at the door. 

“That’s Max,” Richie said, his joy immeaditely crashing into fear and panic. 

“Well, if you’re about to ask me how you look, the answer is: like a mess.” Richie rolled his eyes before freezing.

“Shit,” he said, “I have to get changed,” He said urgently. 

“Dude, I was kidding, why…” Trevor shut up once Richie pulled his shirt closer to his torso. “Ah. Gotcha. Yeah, go get changed; I’ll get the door.” 

“Thank you,” Richie called, rushing to the stairs.

“You got it,” Trevor said, basically to an empty room, as he walked to get the door. 

As Richie had said, Max was standing there, looking just as awkward as Richie just had. 

“Hey, Max. Welcome to our humble abode,” He said flatly.

“Where’s Richie?” Trevor bit back his snort.

“Oh, y’know, he was still in his pyjamas when you got here, so he ran to get changed,” Trevor excuse, leading Max into the house. “Because what he sleeps in is just so different than what he wears outside.” He shut the door. “Y’know, actually. What the fuck am I talking about, he doesn’t really sleep in clothes. Y’know that whole ‘overactive sweat-gland thing.’ Makes it really inconvenient to wear more than underwear.”

Trevor didn’t distinctly notice that Max flushed, but he’d definitely laugh at it in retrospect later.

“I’m gonna head out to get breakfast.” Trevor plucked his keys from the hooks hanging by the door. “You crazy kids have fun. I don’t want to come back to you giving him a swirly and him begging for his life.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“I’m joking, Max,” Trevor sighed, “Although, I don’t want to come back to see that, I don’t think you will, so it’s nothing to worry about, is it?”

“No sir.” Trevor actually laughed this time.

“Jeez,” Trevor said, “When’s the last time you’ve been in someone’s house?”

“I go to Jason’s a lot,” Max said, “But he’s got like a million siblings and I only go over when I don’t have the energy to feed myself. So like, once a week.”

“Do you call his dad sir? We’re gonna ignore the fact that I’m not Richie’s dad, I’m his twin brother, but y’know, same principle.”

“Uhh,” Max hesitated, “Jason’s dad isn’t really…” he motioned abstractly, “Around. He’s alive and shit, but his mom’s in charge, and she gets child support and alimony. But I’m pretty sure even Jason calls him ‘Jonathan.’ So no, I don’t call him sir.”

“Why are you calling me sir?” Trevor asked, “A guy might think you’re coming onto him.”

“Oh, god no,” Max said, a bit too fast. “I think it was just a reflex.”

Many implications sat beneath that simple statement, and Trevor didn’t feel like getting into it right now. His hunger was growing, and quite frankly, he didn’t feel like dealing with Max and Richie’s “not-flirting” when he finally came downstairs.

“Right,” was all he said. “I’m getting you doughnuts. Any aversions?”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Any. Aversions?” Trevor repeated slower.

“I really don’t like the ones with white frosting.” Trevor nodded, opening the door.

“Got it. Be back in a bit,” He called before shutting the door. 

Max, not knowing what was okay or not, just stood there, waiting for Richie to come back downstairs.

“Sorry about that,” Richie said, out of breath, not-quite-running down the stairs. 

“You okay?” Max asked. “I didn’t think you were that out of shape, dude.”

“Shut up,” Richie said with no real hat behind it, “Changing is a process feel me.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you just wore a t-shirt like most people,” Max joked before realising that Richie pretty much was just wearing a t-shirt, or rather wasn’t wearing the normal 4-ish layers.

A black and orange jersey-looking thing— which for some reason had a collar on it— matching shorts, and a plain black jacket. He was wearing socks, which Max didn’t quite understand, since they had a carpet and it was his own house.

“Are you sure those aren’t pyjamas?” Max ammended.

“It’s a uniform,” Richie said, “I thought you’d notice a sport uniform thing,” He joked, looking down at the jersey.

“It has a collar on it.”

“It’s a volleyball uniform.” He quickly corrected himself. “Okay, I guess not all volleyball uniforms have collars. But all the Haikyuu ones do. I think. Actually, I don’t think Shiratorizawa does. There’s probably another but I don’t remember. Kamomedai probably.”

“I’m sure that made sense to you,” Max muttered, turning toward what looked like the doorway to a kitchen. “This way?” 

“Yep,” Richie said. He began pointing to cabinets and drawers. “There’s baking essentials, bowls and trays, mixing and serving utensils, and I put out the eggs and butter, because it said they needed to be room temperature, but the raspberries are still in the fridge. I printed out the recipe, but I can set up my laptop if you want—”

“You need to slow down.” Max held up his hand. “I woke up like twenty minutes ago. Why don’t you just stay in here and help me get everything set up?” 

“Sure.”

Richie got the bowls and trays required for the recipe, while Max followed his direction of where the base ingredients were. 

“Okay, uh…” Richie ran his hand down the ingredient list, glancing around to check that it was on the counter. “Okay, yeah, that’s everything I think. Do you think you can take it from here, or do I still need to babysit you?” Richie teased.

“I can take care of it,” Max said, “You haven’t eaten yet.”

“Have you?”

“That’s not the point.” Richie rolled his eyes.

“Trevor will be here soon, we can just leave this stuff out, eat and then return.”

“Fine,” Max sighed, as if he were annoyed by it, but he had a smile on his face.

Richie lead him to their couch where they sat somewhat awkwardly. Richie was staring down at his legs, trying to subtly adjust his shirt to make his waist look less slim. Max, on the other hand, was running his eyes over the decor of the room. 

“Wow,” He said.

“Good wow or bad wow this time?” Richie asked, somehow both joking and very much anxious and serious. 

“Medium,” Max said. “I don’t understand what half this shit is,” He said, motioning to the entire room. Richie laughed nervously.

“Well, that is sort of the point,” He said. “We all like having our own thing, and we think it’s funny that the rest don’t understand what we’re talking about.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, my dad really likes Doctor Who, and even though we’ve seen it all, we don’t understand it as well as he does,” Richie tried. “I-It’s like how I talked about the volleyball teams earlier, except I don’t feel bad when it’s my family.”

“You feel bad when it’s me?” 

“Eh,” Richie said, and their laughter melted the tension quickly as it usually did. Richie yawned, covering his mouth as it opened so wide one might fear it’d get stuck. 

“How much sleep did you get last night?” 

“I didn’t…” Richie said with a bit of delirious laughter. 

“I said how much sleep did you get last night?” Max repeated. Richie snorted into giggles.

“No, not ‘I did not hear you,’ I was answering your question. I didn’t sleep last night.” 

“Dude,” Max decanted. “The fuck.”

“I stayed up really late filming and editing, and then I realised I should probably clean so you have a good workspace, and then once I was done cleaning it was morning and my brain won’t let me sleep when the sun is rising.”

“So you could sleep now?”

“Hypothetically, but I’m not going to.”

Before Max could argue, the door opened up. 

“Okay, Richie, I got your usual, but Max, pick the ones you want and I’ll take the other two, I can’t decide anyway,” He said, walking over to them. He sighed, glaring at Richie. “Did you put our folding table away?”

“Yeah, it’s…” Richie pointed to the folded tray table, which was usually filled with stuff in the middle of the living room. 

“Hold this,” Trevor sighed, shoving the box into Richie’s arms. 

Trevor set up the table, and they put the box of doughnuts down. 

“I can actually eat mine later,” Max said, standing up. Richie yanked him back down from the bottom of his shirt.

“No, you’re eating.”

“I can—”

“If you don’t eat, I won’t eat,” Richie said, glaring decisively. 

“Fine,” He grumbled, crossing his arms like a child. 

After eating, Max got to work on baking. Richie could see the kitchen from where he was sitting, so he didn’t worry too much about joining him in the kitchen. That’d prove to be a mistake. 

In Richie’s opinion, at least.

“Okay, cake’s in the…” Max shut his mouth as soon as he saw Richie curled up on the chair. “Fucking good,” He muttered, walking over to the couch and flopping down on it. 

He could hear Trevor coming down the stairs, and soon he could see him too. Holding what looked like a big long pillow. 

“Oh, is that one of those Japanese body pillows?” Max asked, his voice soft, not wanting to wake Richie. “He mentioned them. Does he… sleep better with them?” Trevor snorted. 

“Well, I’m sure he does, but that’s not what I’m using this for,” He said, walking over to Richie. 

Max watched, curious. Trevor stood next to the chair for a moment before lifting the pillow with both hands.

“You. Need to. Get. Changed. Be. Fore. You. Sleep!” He said, spitting each syllable as the pillow collided with Richie’s body. 

“Mgh,” Richie grumbled. “Hey,” He said, “Don’t use Rei and Asuka as a weapon,” He said, taking the pillow and holding it close to him. 

“Richie, if you’re gonna go to sleep, you need to get changed. You know that, you asked me to do this shit.”

“This is different,” Richie said, “I fell asleep by accident.” 

“That’s not different, that’s exactly when you asked me to wake you up,” Trevor said. “Go to your room and go to bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep right now,” Richie said. He glanced at Max. 

“You can sleep,” Max said, “It’s fine.”

“See, your b- friend is okay with it,” Trevor said, remembering his words from that morning. “Go to bed.” Richie shook his head.

“No, there’s a few hours between when Max leaves and when I have to get to Ruth’s; I can sleep then.” 

“You sure?” Trevor asked. Richie nodded decidedly. “Okay, well, if you don’t wanna conk out on the couch, maybe you should put on Haikyuu or something.” He waved his hand ambiguously. “One of those shows that gives you more energy than they rationally should.”

“Wha— It’s perfectly rational! You listen to Guns and Ships before dance rehearsal; how is that less weird than me getting excited about volleyball?”

“Guns and Ships is high-speed. There’s a whole Haikyuu episode where shorty and creepy have to study english so they can go to an away game.” 

“Guns and Ships is about asking France for help with the revolution!” 

“At 138 bpm!”

“Why do you know that!”

“Are you guys always like this?” Max asked. “I couldn’t imagine having siblings; I think we’d kill each other.”

“I believe that,” Trevor said. 

“We’re not always like this, we’re just often like this.” Trevor knocked Richie in the back of the head. “It’s a little worse these days,” He admitted.

“Why?”

“Trevor’s nervous about Rudy,” Richie said, craning his neck to look at his brother. 

“Why? Gonna ask him out or something?” 

“No,” Trevor said, a bit defensively. “We have to pick him up from the airport in two weeks.”

“And by we, he means he’s forcing me to drive him.”

“Why can’t his family pick him up?” Trevor sighed, presumably having answered this questions, potentially many times, before.

“I’ve talked to his foster family already, they’re busy the day of the flight. Leslie has a meeting, Sarah won’t even be in the state, and Daliah is four. Rudy could just wait at the airport for two hours for Leslie to get off work, but since I can drive, I offered."

“And then promptly panicked at the prospect of being alone in a car with him for two hours. So instead he decided, ‘yeah. Let’s bring my twin brother.' That’ll decrease the sexual tension,” Richie said. He turned to his brother. “Speaking of such. If you two so much as kiss in my car, you will be walking home.” 

“Rudy and I don’t kiss,” Trevor said. Richie raised a brow. “Often.”

“There ya go.” 

“You kiss even though you’re not dating?” Max asked.

“We’ve kissed like twice ever. And don’t athlete’s slap each others asses?” Trevor deflected. 

“Touchy,” Max said. Trevor and Richie exchanged looks.

“Do you mean touche?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Trevor didn’t laugh, but Richie’s smile grew. 

“Did you make sure to put the filling in the fridge?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m not an idiot,” Max said, sitting back. 

“I am paying you, by the way,” Richie said, “Before you argue, I was given money to pay for the birthday cake. I used some of it for the ingredients, and the rest of it is going to be used to pay for your labour, okay?” 

“Okay,” Max said. “Fine.” He shrugged. 

“So, how much time you gots to kill?” Trevor asked. “I’m basically asking what show I should put on right now.”

“Oh, well, it takes about a half hour to bake, but then it has to cool. It takes like… ten minutes to make frosting, but cake takes like an hour minimum to cool.”

“Does it really?” Trevor asked, eyes widening. 

“Yeah, I was surprised too,” Richie said, nodding. “Why do you think he came so early? Do not. I swear, it’s like living with Ruth sometimes.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Peter has Ted, Ruth has herself, you have me!”

“I shouldn’t need to live with someone with a dumb, inappropriate sense of humour!” 

“C’mon, Richie, you walked right into that,” Max said, snickering. Richie groaned, throwing his head into his hands.

“I have to deal with this all day!” He groaned. He looked up, resting his chin on his hands. “Ted’s coming to Ruth’s party too.” Trevor chuckled and pat Richie’s back.

“Good luck with that dude.” He joined Max on the couch and Richie curled back into his pillow. “How’s Milo sound?” He asked, flicking the TV on. 

“Oh, yeah, that sounds good.” 

So they put on Milo Murphy’s Law.

Throughout the first episodes, a few things happen. Trevor steps away to take a phone call, Richie gets a blanket he’d put away earlier under the assumption that Max would think it was weird they kept blankets in the living room, Trevor deliberately sits down where Richie was sitting so that Richie has to sit on the couch, Max made a comment on Richie’s body pillow (“I thought you were gay” “Max, I promise you, this is literally the most safe for work version of them that I could find.”), Richie dozed off against Max and Trevor let him for an episode before waking him up. That was the main one. 

“I’m gonna have that song stuck my head all day now, thanks for that,” Max said, grunting as he got up. “But I have cake to work on, so.”

Max hummed 'Chop, Chop, Chop,' as he walked into the kitchen, the twins’ eyes following him. 

“Do you think he says that when he goes to work out?” Trevor asked, definitely loud enough for Max to hear. And if Richie hadn’t been sure of that already, the loud ass laugh Max let out confirmed it. 

“No, but I’m gonna start!” He called. 

“I’d be more annoyed if that weren’t so funny,” Richie sighed. Trevor smiled deviously. 

“And it’s funny because it’s true.”

“I’m gonna go see if Max needs any help!” Richie said, stomping into the kitchen. 

“I don’t really,” Max said, adding some sort of powder to their stand mixer.

“Then I’ll wash dishes.”

“Already did it,” Max said over his shoulder. 

“Right, well, damn me for trying to feel useful,” Richie said. Max sighed.

“Could you keep an eye on this while it mixes?” Max asked, switching the mixer on. “Stop it when it’s all combined. You know how to stop it, right?”

“Yes,” Richie said, joining Max’s side. 

Max left once he got his eye on the mixture and began preparing the cake for frosting. 

“So did you want me to write anything on here?” Max asked, “Because I’ll need to mix some vanilla frosting too, if you do.”

“Yeah,” Richie said, “But I could do it.” 

“No, I got it,” Max said, returning to Richie’s side, where the ingredients for the frosting was still sitting on the stove. 

“I’m using the stand mixer already,” Richie said.

“I know, but I can mix it by hand.”

“Nope, no,” Richie said, pushing the container of confectioners sugar away from Max. “You’re gonna get yourself hurt. Writing goes on after, you can mix it later and use the actual mixer for it.”

“Fine,” Max groaned. He stopped the mixer, which Max had distracted Richie from. 

Speaking of, Max must’ve noticed too, with how he froze. Richie was pseudo-boxed in against the counter with Max’s arm there. They both stood there for a moment. 

It was different from how Richie was usually kabedonned by Max— usually it had a very negative connotation. This was more neutral, being an accident and all, but… it felt different. 

“Uh,” Max said, sounding shaky. “I need to get the bowl.”

“Oh, sorry,” Richie squeaked, stepping aside. 

Max continued as if nothing happened. At least, that’s what Richie saw. In reality, his eyes were wide, mouth pressed into a thin line, almost not breathing at all. It took every ounce of his being not to do something just then.

Maybe Trevor was right, maybe he did like Richie like that. And Max already knew that. But his mind still rattled: no, he didn’t like Richie that way, it was just the circumstance. He’d had that feeling with Richie pressed in his box before, back before they were even friends. When the words stopped, the tension thickened and Max felt that instinct to lean in. 

It was just worse now that Richie probably wouldn’t vomit because of it. At least, Max hoped he wouldn’t. 

Richie returned to the living room. 

“Didn’t need help?” Trevor teased.

“I need to go lay down, I think I’m imagining things.”

“Make sure to change first,” Trevor said as Richie walked up the stairs. Richie waved his hand dismissively. 

A half-hour or so later, Max returned from the kitchen. 

“Where’s Richie?”

“Bed.”

“Oh,” Max said. 

“But you should stay!” Trevor rushed to add. “Richie has to pay you still! And, uh… y’know, you’re already here. And why would you leave when you could stay? And he’ll probably be down in a bit—”

“I want-” Max stopped himself. “I, yeah. I want to wait until he comes back down.”

“Did something happen in there?” 

“I think I might’ve almost kissed him a little bit?” 

“How almost?”

“Tension,” Max said. “But that could’ve just been on my side, obviously. I was probably just imagining it. And if I wasn’t, it was just a heat of the moment thing, I’m not… I don’t.” Trevor groaned.

“Why is it such a difficult task for you to admit you like my brother?” Trevor asked. 

“Because I don’t want to,” Max said, “I don’t want him to feel obligated to do anything for or with me. I don’t want him to think he has to do anything just because, because of how we are at school.”

“How you are at school,” Trevor corrected.

“How I act at school,” Max amended begrudgingly. “I don’t him to feel forced. I care about that stupid fucking nerd. And I hurt him enough already.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna stop pushing him around at school?” Trevor demanded. Max sighed.

“No,” He said. “It doesn’t. But he knows I don’t mean that shit. He has to know how much he means to me.”

“He might know better if you tell him how you feel.”

“Richie will never know how I feel, got that?” Max’s tone shifted. A monster again. Trevor’s heart sank and throat squeezed with fear. “Even if you tell him, he won’t fuckin believe you, so you can’t even try.” He took a breath. “Richie’s fucking perfect, if he finds out he likes me, he’d go out with me to make me feel better. I’m not gonna force him to do that. I don’t want to force him to do anything.”

That’s when it hit him. 

“Oh…”

Max was the one with April. The girl who Mimi reminded him of. The girl who pushed him.

“Okay,” He conceded. 

“Okay?” Max asked.

“Okay,” Trevor nodded. 

“Okay,” Max breathed. 

“I’ll go get Richie and tell him you’re about done.” 

Max sat antsy as Trevor did so, and centred on Richie as he walked down the stairs. He was totally screwed, wasn’t he? 

“Hey!” Max said, standing up as Richie neared the end of the stairs. “I was wondering if you wanted to make the white frosting. For, uh, for the text.” Richie smiled, and honestly, he looked so sleepy.

“Sure,” He said.

Max tried his best to keep his distance while Richie was making the frosting, afraid of getting too close. 

“Okay, done!” Richie exclaimed, turning the mixer off. 

“Cool,” Max said, stepping back when Richie walked closer. “I, uh, already set up the bag and stuff, if you wanna scoop it in. I think this is kind of a two-person job anyway, since it’s a pain in the ass to do alone.” 

“Okay,” Richie said happily, dislodging the bowl from the mixer. 

The situation required them being close together, and Max couldn’t help but savour the warm emanating from Richie. He must’ve been tucked under his blankets back in his room. 

“Okay, that’s all of it.” 

“Hm? Right!” Max said, laughing nervously.

Max finished the cake at Richie’s instructions, and it was placed carefully into a box for transportation. 

“Thanks for making the cake for me, Max,” Richie said, buzzing with excitement as they moved into the living room. 

“Of course, dude,” Max said. “It’s the least I could do for being a complete assface to you for literal years,” He said, honestly cringing at his own words. 

“Well, I’m still paying you,” Richie said, “This was labour, and you’re getting paid for it.” 

“Fine,” Max groaned.

“This is delicious,” Ruth commented after moaning obscenely for a distressingly long period of time. 

“We’re going to ignore that sound she just made,” Pete said, for what should’ve been the first time ever, and most definitely wouldn’t be the last. “But she’s right, this is amazing. Where’d it come from?”

“Oh, I got a friend to make it,” Richie said, avoiding eye contact. He knew it was gonna be a lot of shock and confusion, he didn’t feel like facing that. 

“You have other friends?” Pete asked, definitely not believing him.

“Only one,” Richie said. “He came over this morning and baked the cake for you, and if you make any more comments about my friend, I’m taking the leftovers and never bringing you baked goods ever again.” 

Ruth and Pete exchanged looks, almost like they were debating on risk. 

“Looking forward to theatre camp this year?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, I’m excited, all packed and everything.”