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dilatorywriting · 2 years

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Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Running a little pâtisserie is quaint, and homey, and should not in any way get you involved with anything shady. Let alone the strange bounty hunter who prowls through your little town like the Grim Reaper himself. And yet here you are, teaching this literal murderer how to use a napkin.

A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Also apologies in advance to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby

[PART 1] [PART 2]

There was a murderer at your window, and you weren’t really sure what to do about it.

Well, maybe not actually a murderer. Bounty Hunters tended not to wind up in prison after dragging back the desecrated remains of their latest quarry. But still. You recognized the black plume tucked slickly into his wide-brimmed, purple, hat, and the pale, bright, bob of his hair was nearly luminescent in the dark. He was certainly the least covert assassin you’d ever seen, and you had seen him. It was hard not to. Traipsing through town to deposit every wayward criminal, every long-lost villain, at the doorstep of who’d ever called for him.

‘Rook Hunt’ you thought his name was, or at least, that’s what the old woman in the market would call him before crossing herself and spitting in the dirt. It was all a bit on the nose in your humble opinion, especially with that strange, twisting, ebony, bow of his strung across his back. ‘Hunter’ indeed. But it’s not like you’ve ever done anything to warrant winding up in one of those dripping burlap sacks of his, so you’d let the dude have his drama. It was probably good advertisement. And it’s not like the guy had ever bothered you before.

You thought that reassurance on repeat as you watched said not-quite-a-murderer stare through the front window of your little bakery, as if your rising dough had been kneaded with the secrets of the known universe. But he didn’t do anything—just kept watching with rapt attention as you brushed egg wash over your pie crusts and swapped trays in and out of the ancient, brick, oven.

In all honesty, he was far from the strangest thing that’d been plastered to your window in the early AM, and it wasn’t like he was licking the glass or anything. So you let it slide.

One of the custard tarts you pulled from the oven had cracked across the top. Nothing out of the ordinary—there was always at least one dud in a batch. Normally you saved the rejects for Ace or Deuce to gobble up (depending on whoever managed to pop by first), but this one you set aside onto a little tea plate. You topped it with a dollop of freshly whipped cream and a spoonful of the blackberries you’d left sitting in sugar overnight. Then you plucked up a spare napkin and made your way out from behind the counter.

When you opened the door to your little bakery, the tingling overhead bell warmed your unwanted guest’s expression in a way that it most certainly should not have—lighting the whole of him with this sort of wide-eyed, innocent, joy that belonged nowhere on the face of someone you’d watched cart literal corpses into town.

“Mon pâtissier!” he chirped. “What a fine morning it is, no?”

The sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. You could still hear the drone of crickets and toads in the distance, basking in the humid darkness of the night.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “We’re not open for,” you glanced at the moon, still full in the sky, “at least four more hours. If that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“Oh—non, non, non,” Rook waved you off. “I just wanted to watch!”

“…Watch?” you repeated.

“It’s quite the fascinating process!” he absolutely beamed. “Taking such basic, individual, components and turning them into something so spectacularly sweet and heartwarming! Quelle inventivité! I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about your marvelous menu!”

‘From who?’ you wanted to ask, because you’d never heard of anyone being able to hold a conversation with this man for more than a stuttered sentence at a time, let alone for long enough to go about giving dessert recommendations. But there was a streak of red blood across his cheek that still looked fresh enough to not even have gone tacky yet, and now that you looked closer, his dark gloves were perhaps a shade too dark to not have been, well…

You sighed and reminded yourself once again that is was absolutely not your business, before handing him the napkin.

He stared at it with that same sort of rapt fascination that had you wondering if this man had ever actually interacted with proper civilization in his entire life.

“Wipe your hands,” you demanded with a huff, and he dutifully scrubbed at his stained fingers. Once he was clean enough that he was at least no longer dripping unmentionables all along your windowsill, you held out the little saucer for him to take.

“Pour moi?” he muttered, looking a bit starstruck.

“If you’re going to say all those nice things about my food, you may as well get to try what you’re complimenting,” you shrugged, and that same eager enthusiasm lit his face all over again. “And it will be a nice treat to take home with you,” you emphasized, with all the intonation of a cheery ‘please get the fuck out before you scare away all my customers for the day.’

But instead of turning and meandering off back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of, he just kept staring at the little treat like he had no idea what to do with it.

“It’s a tart,” you said blandly, fighting the furrow in your brow.

Rook repeated ‘a tart’ under his breath like it was some kind of ancient, forbidden, enchantment, and not like it was literally scrawled into the little menu sign at your door at least a dozen times over.

The Bounty Hunter peered at the little custard treat like you’d handed him a treasure beyond measure. After a moment of carefully poking at the browned crust like it wasn’t literally meant to break apart beneath one’s fingers, he looked back over at you with eyes that were far, far, too green. He lifted the tart up like he meant to give it back to you.

“I ought to offer you la première bouchée,” he smiled.

You blinked, taken aback, and pushed the plate back into his hands. “That’s not how free samples work.”

Rook tossed his head back with a bout of boisterous laughter that should have been loud enough to wake everyone on the block. You glanced around nervously, hoping no one was about to come running out to make noise complaints.

“Ahh~ But how else will I know the best manner in which to savor such a treat?”

“You eat it,” you gaped. And then, slowly, because you weren’t even sure you were dealing with a functional human being anymore. “With your teeth.”

The Bounty Hunter, with his blood smeared cheeks and even bloodier clothes, put all those shiny, pearly whites of his on display in a merry grin. He swept forward in a grand bow that had the feather in his hat bobbing about in a way that reminded you far too much of a wagging tail.

“Of course!” he chirped. “In my home you said, yes?”

Please, you wanted to groan. Go there. Leave.

“Ideally,” you said instead, and Rook ducked his head until that purple hat of his had cast the whole of his face into shadow. He reached up to tap two fingers against the wide brim and tip it forward.

“Merci, merci!” he trilled. “Then I will endeavor to consume this marvelous spécialité humaine in the proper fashion. A very good morning to you then, cher pâtissier!”

He straightened with a merry little hum and began making his way back down the cobblestone road. In the soft light of the setting moon, his footsteps left odd prints in their wake—inky, black, dripping things that had faded entirely by the time you were able to focus enough to get a proper look at them, leaving you wondering if they’d really just been nothing but a trick of the night.

Well, that was fucking weird,you frowned, shaking the fuzz from your head. You slipped back inside and the door jingled pleasantly as it slammed behind you. But then again, when wasn’t customer service a trip? These people were all ridiculous.

Bright and early the next morning, you were waiting for Deuce to arrive with his delivery of a fresh crate of eggs. It was ungodly early, as it always was. But at least there was no hunter at your window this time around—

There was a bang and a screech, and then an unfortunate sort of cracking-squishing-yucky noise that sounded an awful lot like a couple dozen eggs meeting their doom. You frowned and tucked your rag into the ribbons of your apron and ducked out from the backroom with a sigh. Deuce was at the door. Or, well, Deuce was on the ground in front of your door. With the shattered, yolk, remnants of your shipment scattered all around him.

“I’m not paying for that,” you huffed irritably, and your friend looked up with a squawk.

He looked like he was trying to say something, but his face just kept flashing back and forth between deathly pale and a miserable sort of mottled red.

“I—! You—! And he—!”

“Use your words, Spade,” you sighed.

“I do believe he’s trying his best, cher pâtissier!”

You froze, and turned in near-slow-motion to see a beaming Bounty Hunter crouched at one of the little painted benches lined up neatly along your storefront. Not on one, like a normal person. But beside one. On the ground. There was no blood on him today. None that was very obviously dripping down his face at the very least. He didn’t seem like he’d come bearing any ill will, but your Chicken Dealer was still splayed out on the ground—nearly convulsing—so that wasn’t a great sign either.

“What’s going on out here?” you demanded, hands at your hips.

“I do believe Monsieur Spade had himself a bit of a fright,” Rook beamed, and then turned towards your very gaunt looking friend with a soft tut-tut noise that for all its amiability didn’t sound particularly sympathetic. “You really ought to work on your balance, hmm? Alas, all these petits oeufs have gone to waste.”

“What?!” Deuce immediately bristled, on the defensive. “If you hadn’t scared me, then none of these chicks would have had to die so tragically in the first place!”

“For the last time,” you sighed, grinding the heels of your palms into your eyes. “Unfertilized farm eggs are not baby chicks.”

“But Ace said—”

“Enough! With what Ace said!” you snapped, exhaustion and a sore lack of tea, or coffee, or anything wearing away at your already fragile sanity. “Ace would sell you snake oil and cry to your face about you underpaying for it!”

“Oh?” Rook chirped, unfolding himself from his crouch to stand at his full height. He wasn’t particularly gangly or long limbed—not even especially tall, all things considered. But there was something about him that made him loom. From the sharp cut of his purple robes to the harsh, starched, white of his tight collar. He was neat, composed. And yet… very much not civilized. “Is this not a person who wishes you well, cher pâtissier?”

You frowned, something odd tugging at a sixth sense of yours. Just… a little something on the periphery of your nerves, singing that the words you chose now would mean a lot more than they ought to.

You hummed, low in your throat, and considered.

“Ace is himself,” you said finally, “but he’s a friend nonetheless.”

“Magnifique!” Rook beamed and clapped his hands together with a near lovelorn sigh, all at once perfectly pleasant and soft. “It is such a very good thing to have friends!”

“…Is that what you are?” Deuce asked, enough of that enraged spunk fading away to leave him properly cautious once more. His blue eyes flickered pointedly from the bounty hunter, to you, and back. “A friend?”

You sighed and turned to retreat back into your little shop without a word. Deuce scrambled to his feet to follow you in hesitantly, still dripping with the remnants of too many eggs. You shot him a look, and he immediately darted over to the mop and bucket you kept propped up in the corner. Rook stood in the doorway, nearly just a blur of bruised shadow against the backdrop of the pre-dawn darkness, and you watched him out of the corner of your eye. After a long moment of terse silence, he stepped beyond the threshold with a little hum. He wiped his feet pointedly on your little welcome mat, and then turned to stand at the counter. He fished around in the pockets of his cloak for a moment before withdrawing a strange little flower. He placed it on the countertop with a bright smile that crinkled the corners of his green eyes.

You stepped forward to observe it curiously, and your brows shot up in surprise.

It wasn’t a flower at all. What had looked like the folded arch of soft petals was actually a dainty pair of wings. It was a tiny butterfly—caught in a perpetual sort of stillness. It was bright, and colorful, and so carefully preserved that even when you trailed a flour-coated finger along the thin membranes of its wings, it stayed clean and crisp.

“What’s this for?” you asked.

“Payment, of course!” Rook smiled. “For the lovely treat you gifted me the other day.”

You sighed, not at all in the mood to discuss the lack of viable conversion rates between copper coins and bugs.

So instead you settled on huffing, “Free samples are free. It’s in the name.”

Rook just kept on smiling, unbothered. Deuce knocked into some set of drawers or other—or maybe the coatrack. Who knew—and you shot him an irritable little scowl. The guy was like a bull in a china shop on the best of days, let alone when he was trying to multitask, and be sneaky about it all the while. The bounty hunter’s grin twitched a bit at the corners, like the idea of your blue-haired friend trying to stealthily keep a watch on him was just the funniest thing.

You glanced back down at the little, frozen, butterfly. It really was very pretty, even if it was a little odd.

When you ducked back behind the counter, you unearthed a blueberry muffin from one of many stacks of trays there. It was little lopsided, and maybe there were a few too many bits of fruit in it. Surely no one would have wanted it anyways.

You plopped it on the countertop, and both Rook’s eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead. When he made no move to take it, you pushed the confection closer. The wrapper slid along the counter in a heavy, sticky, way. You’d have to remember to wipe it down again after. The Hunter reached out carefully to pluck the treat up between his fingers. He squished it delicately, in a similarly cautious way as to how you’d stroked the little butterfly.

“Is this also for eating at home?” he asked, observing the offering with a wide, wonderous, expression.

“Yes,” you said, just in time for Deuce to nearly annihilate your trash bin. “Please enjoy it.” Please get out. You’re distracting my maid.

Rook Hunt dipped into another of those ridiculous, bobbing, bows and pinched the brim of his hat between his fingers.

“Your generosity continues to warm my heart, mon cher,” he crooned, eyes practically sparkling from behind the sharp cut of his heavily lined lashes. “I will endeavor to return your kindness tenfold! A hundred!”

You waved off his sentimentality with a flick of your wrist and a not so delicate ‘shoo shoo.’

The hunter left your little bakery with a spring in his step and an outpouring of flowery promises that had your head spinning. He melted seamlessly into the shadows of the early morning, and between one blink and the next, he’d vanished entirely.

You would have thoroughly enjoyed the well-earned silence that followed, if not for the veritable storm cloud brewing over your friend’s head.

“Do I get one…?” Deuce asked finally, staring outright at the remaining muffins and sounding small and hopeful. And like that clearly wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

“Maybe if I had the eggs to make more,” you lamented, brushing your hands against your apron.

Deuce made a wounded noise which you had exactly zero sympathy for. You got to work wiping down the counters and sorting through the bits and bobs you’d need to start your day.

“…You know he’s not right, don’t you? That bounty hunter?” Deuce finally said, setting the mop aside. “You must have heard at least some of the rumors floating around town. I don’t think anyone even knows if the guy’s human.”

You shrugged.

“Anyone who has to wake up when I wake up each morning has long given up on humanity anyways,” you droned, only sort of half kidding.

Deuce frowned, clearly unhappy with your non-answer.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” he asked, stern in his fretting. There was still a big ol’ chunk of eggshell tangled up in his bangs.

“When I am ever not?” you smiled, and carefully pocketed the little, blue, butterfly.

When you popped by the market stalls after closing shop for the day, the street was abuzz with all the usual gossipy nonsense that you’d long since learned to let settle at the back of your brain like white noise. You were busy debating if you had enough arms to manage balancing yet another bag of strawberries (they were at their height of freshness these past weeks it seemed, and you were like a little fruit goblin hoarding them while you could), when a particularly shrill bit of chatter worked its way past the pleasant curtain you’d let fall across your thoughts.

“There was another one,” the butcher’s wife whispered in a way that was most certainly not a whisper.

“I heard,” chittered the man who really should have been trying to sell you more strawberries if he’d any kind of business sense whatsoever. He turned on you with a look that meant you were clearly about to be dragged into a conversation you were entirely unprepared for. “It was one of yours, apparently!”

“One of my what?” you blinked back into focus.

“One of your regulars,” he said, like a secret.

“That strange Bounty Hunter came through again,” his coconspirator hissed, with a hand lifted as if she meant to cover her mouth. “He dropped off the body the other day—delivered the heart straight to the Felmier’s porch!”

“Who was it?” you asked, just like you knew they wanted you to.

“Sir Hamlen,” the butcher’s wife said. “You know, that awful toad who could eat you out of house and home.”

That sounded like all of your costumers, and more than half of your closest friends, but you gave yourself a moment to sort through your scattered thoughts and try and connect whatever dots they’d been throwing at you.

“Sir Hamlen…?” you said after a moment, slowly putting a face to the name. “With the terrible goatee?”

They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Rotten pig,” the butcher’s wife piped back in. “Served him right, if you ask me. Everyone was expecting the Crown would put him to death anyways.”

You shrugged again. You hardly knew the man, but he’d always paid you well enough that you didn’t really have any ill will towards him. You went back to fussing over balancing bags of berries, but then… Well, there was something a bit funny, actually. He’d been a loud sort of person, with no filter to speak of. One afternoon, he’d stumbled into your little shop absolutely pissed on cheap drink and all but burping bubbles.

‘You know,’ he’d lulled, dropping a full coin pouch on your countertop. Which you’d taken in its entirely with zero hesitation. ‘I’d die happy if my last meal was these fucking tarts of yours.’

‘Is that so,’ you’d drawled, in the bland way you answered literally every customer who spouted off whatever nonsense was kicking around in their heads.

‘Aye,’ he’d sighed, practically stooped over. ‘Gonna have to pry ‘em outta my cold, dead, hands.’

“Huh,” you muttered, thoughts wandering back to a pair of bloody gloves and the little treat you’d pressed into them. Huh.

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader #Rook Hunt x Yuu #Reaper!Rook #Monster Mayhem #Fantasy AU #Rook Hunt #Deuce Spade #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Rook Part 1

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hetaherr · 1 year

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scent of tomorrow

: childe, thoma, wriothesley, kazuha, wanderer

: fluff, a little angst if u squint, all about smells

super self indulgent, literally thought of this in the shower lmao okay bye happy reading and reblog to win your 5050s <3

childe

scent is one of the senses you should put to use when childe is around. it is known to see and to feel is a privilege given that the man is often travelling in his line of work. but i implore you to not take smell for granted, for in his abscence all that shall be left in your home is the scent of his presence. you find yourself sinking into the cold and empty bed, the smell of him freshly out the shower will waft through the room, eventually dissipating in the following days. you remember his muscular arms wrapping around you shamelessly, a cheeky smile adorning his tired face as he begins to tickle you. take a whiff and it smells of water, clean and refreshing, it's slightly minty and it feels pristine. there are floral notes like the orange blossom, you can make out the innocence and playfulness- much like the purity that is his love for you. it's weird how the first time you met childe, the air was grim and smelled strongly of metal. it isn't hard to guess why, he looked intimidating and seemed far away. but now he was yours, all you can think about is how much you miss his joyful and refreshing antics- much like the aroma he brings and makes any space immediately feel like home.

thoma

though far away, you often find yourself transported into the charming yet quaint town of mondstadt. or at least what you pressume to be mondstadt. thoma smells like a freshly baked apple pie, vanilla and apple- and a little cinnamony as you've mentioned before. "my cinnamon boy" you will say while snugging into him on a cold rainy inazuma day, he feels warm and the smell of vanilla feels oddly comforting and relaxing. if you think about it he smells like walking into a kitchen with the oven on during christmas. he smells like the feeling of running fingers through your hair, cozy as you listen to him ramble about his day with the kamisato clan. it is the perfect feeling of nostalgia and pure comfort, the embodiment of fall. there is something so homely about his scent that makes you want to call your family or childhood friends again, he reminds you of the innocence of youth that is forever unattainable. he smells like the remembrance of the past and the security of the future that lies in his warm embrace.

wriothesley

there is something so on brand as you see those 3 in one soaps sitting so awkwardly in your shower, squeezed inbetween your fancy bottles of shower gels and all kinds of face and hair masks, body scrubs to keep yourself feeling clean. i suppose to this man, one bottle will do, and being clean is a 2 step process. however it's funny, he'll come home and a teasing grin will fall apon his face while chasing you around the living room- despite being exhausted from work- for a hug. "no hugs until you take a shower!" you can try shouting, squirming as he catches you. but trying is really all you can do. you can smell the musk that is his sweat, it's a little woody yet it makes you feel so very secure and safe- similar to the fortress he runs. a true sign of his hardwork, it may be a little gross as you return his hug- groaning as usual. but as he relishes in your touch, you can smell the lingering scent of that ridiculous soap he insists on using, it smells like jasmine. so pure and weirdly sensual as he tells you yet again that "i've missed you". its fascinating how his scent does such an accurate job at reminding you of his honesty in his work and in loving you. you may complain about his sweaty hugs and his odd taste in soaps but you do hope that the both of you stay in each other's embrace for just a little longer, before it's all washed away down the pipes.

kazuha

an honest laugh sounds across the beach, kazuha's hand unconsciously moving a piece of your hair away from your face as he listens to you speak. "you just smell different from how i imagined..." the sheepish remark sparks the feeling of surprise within his chest. when you first set eyes on the wandering samurai, the image of autumn and beautiful maple leaves falling from trees appears within your mind- a reasonable thought. but it couldn't be further from the truth. kazuha smells like summer, he smells like white musk and coconut. it's a little woody, fruity and floral at the same time, similar to his calm yet charming nature. it reminds you of the way he is able to remain so composed like the tranquil ocean while he manages to fluster you with his flowery words. at times you can faintly smell the sea breeze, salty and citrusy- but the scent comes and goes as does he, never staying in one spot for too long. under the sun as you lay with him atop a warm rock feeling the breeze, his scent is vast. one moment it feels like splashing in the ocean under the sun and the next it feels like watching the waves crash against the shore under the moonlight. he smells like the way you romanticise being at the beach, whether you are playing with your friends or sitting in a hammock, just watching and existing. be glad that everytime he is away, the beach will always feel like home.

wanderer

there is something so peaceful about waking up in the early mornings of spring, the crisp air and morning dew is something so miniscule yet so easy to love. but all you chose to look at is how his mouth is agape, brows slightly scrunched together, the motion of his chest falling and rising is the only thing moving in the still environment that surrounds you. at this moment as he wakes, you are greeted with the delightful aroma of lavender. unlike his usual stubborn and harsh behaviour, the scent of lavender only enhances how calm and tranquil it feels. it makes you laugh at how different his personalities seem throughout the day. his eyes narrow at you as his arm that drapes lazily across your waist pulls you closer. you can smell the aroma, surprised at how long it has lasted, you like how it reminds you of his devotion to you. there are times he smells like bergamot too. it smells like the sun, citrusy and a little playful. it dispells the shadows of despondency and anxiety, he smells like breathing the fresh air of morning walks. he smells like hanging the fresh laundry in the afternoon on a sunny yet windy day. the mixture of scents remind you of the elegance and purity that he is. a man capable of change and love, after being brought his sun.

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #thoma x reader #wriothesley x reader #kazuha x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader

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lovezbrownies · 2 months

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plsplsplsplslsplpsls Gen x idiot darling 🙏🙏🙏🙏 like trips over everything and grabs the pan out of the oven with their bare hands typa idiot…….. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Oomf... forgive me... for being so late... I LOVE YOU!!!

Gen's Masterlist - General Masterlist

Synopsis: Gen with an idiot Darling... That's it.

Gen Ludenhart x GN!Reader

Gen loves you. Beyond that even. But sometimes, you make her doubt how much she loves you. Does she love you enough to tolerate your behavior? Or is it time to hold an intervention? Of course, the intervention would be about your humiliating stupidity, how one small fall turns into a house fire, or how you’d stare into the void when asked a common math question.

Your lack of… Brains, safe to say was concerning to your wife, so concerning enough she had taken you to the doctor, only to find out that’s just what you are… A moron, a healthy moron, but a moron nonetheless. So knowing that Gen had put many different safety nets around the house, pillows and a small soft mattress laid next to the side you sleep on due to your love of waking up and rolling off the comfy bed to the hardwood floor.

What Gen hadn’t thought of was the kitchen. Well, she did, closing it off and banning you from even nearing it, so how did you get in there, and out with a hot burn all over your arm, “I-I just w-wanted to flip my e-eggs! But I used oil instead of butter to-to be healthy and for some reason, it went everywhere!” That day Gen hadn’t left her office, spending the entire day pondering on the possibility of a Brain Cell Exchange surgery, but of course, that wasn’t possible… Unfortunately.

A recent pastime of Gen’s has become praying, praying to the gods above that you somehow develop what was stolen from you. Intelligence. But yet again, her prayers go unanswered as she listens to the nonsense you constantly spout.

“Hey, uh… my wife…?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Well, I was thinking, maybe we could get some cows, for produce you know?”

“And what spawned this silly little idea in your head?”

“Well, you know how regular cows make regular milk? We could get a variety of cows! Chocolate cows for chocolate milk, vanilla cows for vanilla milk, WAIT! Strawberry cows! For strawberry milk!!”

“God and heavens above please what have I done to deserve this…”

Grim knows his sister as the woman who hates it when someone proudly states information and corrects them even if it hurts their feelings, yet he sits there, watching his enamored sister look up at the moron sitting on her lap.

#yandere x reader #gn reader #oc x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #x reader #tw yandere #yandere oc #yandere #gender neutral #female #female yandere #Yandere x Reader #Yandere x reader #yandere x yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #female oc #female manipulator

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

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A lovely commission from @vallleyoflilllies, Error being a silly tsundere and not knowing how to deal with his crush on a human <3 absolutely CLASS idea

---

He was back again.

You could always tell when he was back- you’d come home from work and hear the sounds of a random dramatic soap opera drifting from the TV. He liked those... he would binge-watch entire series’ in one sitting.

... You shook some of the droplets off your coat, then hung it up to let it drip-dry for a bit. The weather was pretty grim outside. You headed to your room first, changing into pyjamas and picking up your project... you didn’t have any other outings planned today. Sitting with him on the couch sounded really nice.

You made your way to the sofa, flopping down beside him unceremoniously. He didn’t look at you. He wasn’t watching a soap opera today, though- he was watching some cooking show you’d never seen before, based in Italy.

“This is new.” You commented. “Why’re you watching an old people cooking show? You never cook. All you do is eat my food.”

“i put-t-t it on for you, actually. since your cook-k-king is gross.” He said, still not looking at you. You knew him well enough to know his words had no real venom to them. “take notes, glitch.”

You snickered. “Doesn’t stop you from coming back. Weirdo.”

You liked when he was here.

Error... he had a habit of appearing out of nowhere. Literally- he’d appear out of thin air. Disappearing for days, then showing up again, acting like no time passed. Your first encounter with him had been him shaking you awake in the middle of the night; he was visibly upset and berated you for leaving your stove on by accident, informing you you could’ve had a fire if he wasn’t there to turn it off. You were so tired, and so perplexed by what was occurring, that you just sheepishly apologised- convinced you were dreaming. Apparently somewhat mollified by your apology, he proceeded to... vanish like a mirage.

...

Well. You obviously wrote that off as the strangest episode of sleep hallucination you’d ever had.

The next occurrence was when you left a cupboard door open, and almost stood up into the opened door. You would’ve whacked your head pretty hard. But a firm, large hand on your head stopped you from standing up fully- you heard the sound of a closing cupboard and a glitched “st-t-upid human, you’re going to hurt yoursel-l-lf.”. You were absolutely shocked to look up and see that the monster from your ‘dream’ the other night was real, and glaring down at you.

... He then disappeared. Again. Like he wasn’t even there. You didn’t have time to process it.

It happened with further and further frequency, and for lesser and lesser reasons. At first, it was things of genuine concern, he would make sure you weren’t leaving your oven on, he’d replace the battery in your carbon monoxide alarm. Then stuff of slightly less importance... shutting off a tap you left running. Plugging in your phone overnight when you’d forgotten. And it wasn’t long before it was stuff of absolutely zero concern- turning off the TV when you weren’t in the room, tidying up your shoes when you left them at an askew angle by the door, washing up plates you’d abandoned on the counter.

Oddly, it felt like in certain ways, he had completely slipped under your radar. Of course you were concerned that a large glitching skeleton monster somehow possessed the ability to instantly get in and out of your home. Of course you were worried about your privacy, your safety, his intentions. He would sometimes look at you for several seconds, unbroken, yellow eyelights blank despite your nervous queries- other times, he would say confusing jittering things to you or himself, about ‘universes’ and ‘alternates’. ‘Mistakes’ he had to ‘eradicate’.

... But... also...

... You weren’t worried at all.

Error was funny. Both intentionally, and unintentionally. He tried to act all tough, speaking with barbs and calling you a ‘glitch’- but to you, he was so clearly all bark and no bite. You shot right back, calling him a broken record player and a weird homeless guy... he took it in stride. He obviously delighted in having someone to play off. To banter with.

... He clearly liked you. He kept coming back, again and again. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him too.

Did you still have questions? Sure. But in the end, it wasn’t really worth driving yourself crazy over stuff like his secret backstory. He could obviously go in and out of your home completely at will, he could rob you blind or murder you if he so pleased. All he did was do a few menial chores, and occasionally eat some of your food.

He clearly just... needed someone.

At this point in your... ‘relationship’... Error seemed to have given up on the excuse of doing chores in order to be in your home. He still did them, sure, but sometimes he’d just stay anyway. Once he seemed to clock that you tolerated him, whether or not he was unexpectedly picking up your dry cleaning, he began sticking around all day. He would hover nearby you, drifting in and out of whatever room you were in, watching you like a curious cat. If you acknowledged his existence in any manner, like with a question about his day, he’d visibly brighten and start chattering. He’d sit on the couch with you. Listen while you rambled about work, family, friends, anything... making snide remarks and staring with those bright yellow eyelights.

He was more akin to a helpful, close friend/roommate than anything else. You’d grown to kinda just accept that Error was part of your life now.

... He was very easy to accept.

///---///

Error let a slow breath escape him. His temper had been, only moments earlier, absolutely foul. Foul enough that the multiverse would’ve done well to fear him.

... You had no idea that before you arrived, he’d been seething on your couch, glitches overtaking his vision- literally blinding him with anger. Twitching, burning, infuriated by his difficulty with simple tasks while angry. It had been an awful few days, so awful not even the TV could distract him.

... Then he’d heard your front door open. He heard you sigh to yourself, shake off your raincoat, kick off your shoes.

... His vision had cleared. His Soul had thumped. Finally- the only thing that could distract him.

Your home was the only place where he felt warm. It felt like the only place he could come back to, that welcomed him, with familiar smells and sounds and trinkets that brought him back to reality. Even better when you were physically in the space with him, like you were now, nestled beside him on the couch. Unlike the anti void, a vast expanse of white nothingness where he had only himself to talk to, he liked how your home was full of things that had meaning to you. Your Soul’s energy had soaked into every item in the home- as had your scent.

... He glanced at you, then back to the TV again. Did you know you were the only creature in the multiverse he wanted closer?

(He had one of your shirts, in the anti void. You didn’t know. He figured he probably should return it soon... but it kept him company, when he couldn’t directly be with you.)

It was odd. You calling him a weirdo had made him feel so calm- affirmation that you still didn’t know what he’d done, that you still liked him. Still wanted him in your home. He sometimes asked himself what he, the destroyer of universes, was doing hanging around in a tiny backwater AU with a nobody human... but like most things in his life, he found that if he asked too many questions, the pain in his head became too intense.

At the end of the day, you being close to him and talking to him made him feel good. That was all he needed to know.

Even just watching you had calmed him down; back before he realised you were happy to let him in.

You had settled in, your breathing was slower. Someone, relaxed around him... it felt good. Though he desperately wanted to stare at you, and talk to you, he also didn’t want to seem clingy. He tried to act like he didn’t care, pretending he was watching the Italian cooking show.

...

He didn’t manage long.

“there are aus with m-m-much better looking-g-g mediterraneans than that.” He said, yellow mouth pulled into a sneer.

... You gave him a customary ‘mhm’.

You had no clue what an AU was. But you humoured him; he liked that. You didn’t really know what most of the things he talked about were, you’d just give him some nods and hums, maybe you’d tease him. You probably just thought he was nuts.

He finally glanced over at you. You were leaning on the side of the couch... something in hand.

...

He felt his Soul skip.

“a-a-are you crocheting?”

...

... You looked up at him, you seemed surprised to hear him comment on what you were doing. Your eyes on him made his magic all but purr. He was looking at your ‘project’- a few terrible tangled messes, a ball of brown yarn, and a crochet hook pinched between your thumb and forefinger.

(You were in pyjamas. He liked when you were in pyjamas... he liked when you were comfortable. Comfortable around him.)

“... Oh. Uh... well, I’m trying to crochet.” Your voice soothed his glitches. Everything about you was a balm to his angry, spiteful, troubled Soul. “I’ve only just started. I can’t really work it out.”

He tilted his skull. “what are you-u maki-i-ing?”

Were your cheeks getting pinker? “... Nothing in particular, maybe a scarf? I just wanted to get into crocheting.”

He stared. “what don’t y-y-you understand?”

“Making the knot at the beginning. I dunno where to put everything.” Your brow furrowed. “You know how to crochet?”

“of course.” He said, sitting up. The TV was now purely background noise. “why do you seem surp-p-prised?”

You gave him a look, and a teasing smile that made him feel fidgety and hot.

“... You’re so right. How could I have been so blind. You scream ‘guy who likes to crochet’.”

Error shifted. “how can you not know how to make a slipknot? they’re easy. there’s a lot of method-d-ds.”

“There are? Course you'd know, grandma.”

��maybe try a pret-t-zel method.” He pointed to your yarn, sitting forward even further. “make a pretzel sh-shape with the yarn. then catch the inside loop.”

You made a loop over your finger.

... Then kinda just paused, unsure.

“n-n-no, a pretzel.” He narrowed his sockets. “don’t you kn-kn-know how to make a p-p-pretzel?”

“No.” You said, honestly. Then you glared at him. “But also, you’re shit at explaining.”

He loved when you sassed him. He leaned in. “maybe the cross method is easier for your t-t-tiny human brain. loop the thread twice ov-v-ver your fingers so it’s an x shape. then tuck the loose end under the x and catch that. eas-s-sy.”

... You looped the yarn over your finger twice.

...

“But like. Where do I tuck the end of it?” You said.

“under the x. you... ugh.” He grunted. “c’mere. gimme the-the-the end of the thread.”

...

You flushed. But you shuffled, sitting up, passing him the yarn.

Error leant over- he took your hands in his.

...

He took your hands. In his.

He froze, for a split second. Your hands were in his. He stared down at them; tiny, soft, warm, shrouded in his blackened bones. He had expected contact with you to feel like lightning, but it didn't, your hands were just... nice. Everything he’d dreamed of.

... 'fuck' was the only thought running through his head. Repeating over and over. He didn’t mean to take your hands, he didn't realise what he was doing until he’d already done it- he was just so accustomed to instinctively hating the idea of touching anyone, he had no idea how to stop himself from doing it when the urge overcame him. He was just so comfortable with you, so warm- he hadn’t thought twice. In that moment, the thought to recoil from you hadn’t even occurred to him.

He hadn’t thought twice about touching you.

... It wasn’t until this very moment, your hands warming his bones, that he realised he was indulging an urge he’d had since the moment he first saw you.

...

Error couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge how deeply he’d been taken off guard. And equally, he couldn’t allow you to see it. So he forced himself to continue.

He didn’t want to let go of your hands.

“it-t-t’s a basic slipknot. i don’t get where you’re conf-fused.” He said, defaulting to insults, as he did when he felt any kind of gentle emotion. He hoped his glitches would hide the nervous stutter.

He moved your fingers in his claws, precisely, holding up the end of the yarn. Your hands felt tiny in his.

“do it lik-k-ke this. you want the end to be about this long. not too sh-short.” With the eye of someone who had done it a thousand times, he looped it over your first two fingers. “make an x, over your fingers, like that-t. you see? then you tuck the tail under here. but not-t-t all the way through.”

...

... His eyelights moved from the thread, to your face. He caught you looking at him. He was very close, his mouth only a few inches from your face. Close enough to literally feel the warmth coming off you.

... Just like that, he found it was difficult to swallow.

You flinched, seemingly flustered at getting caught staring- you forced yourself to look back down at the crochet hooks. You bit your lip, apparently in embarrassment.

Your mouth.

...

It took him a few long, difficult moments to draw his eyelights away from your soft, soft lips.

“... pinch the tail so you dont lose it.” His claws continuously brushed yours as he circled the thread over your own fingers. He took your left hand. “put your other finger through the loop. like... that. then slide the hook through and catch it. there you go, a slipknot.”

... He could hear your heartbeat. It was faster.

“make sure not to tighten it too much. the knot doesn’t count as a stitch. if you were knitting, it would count. but it doesn’t count in cr-crocheting.”

...

He felt like he’d reached the end of his list of excuses to keep holding your hands.

... He let go. And... he sat back against the couch, refusing to look at you, worried about what he might do if he did. He could feel the energy in his cheekbones, they were probably bright blue.

His hands balled in his lap.

...

“Thanks.” You said, gently. Genuinely.

...

Error didn’t know how to process what he was currently feeling. He wasn't sure if he'd ever know how. So he just kept his sockets glued to the TV.

“... s-s-sure." He said. "whatever.”

#commissions #i like my tsunderes not too sharp #u know what i say #the softer the better #i say that all the time #what do u mean i dont say that #yes i do

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hannahssimblr · 5 days

Text

As the evening draws in, others arrive at the house. It’s been nice, just Evie and I, for the hour alone that we had, once my family left and I finally showered the smell of grass from my body.

We laughed together while preparing the oven snacks that are now laid out on plates on the table, being picked at by people whose surnames I’ve already begun forgetting. It was sad too, in a way, being happy with Evie, and living out some kind of domestic fantasy where she burns the spring rolls and I tell her it’s okay, because I’m a dustbin of a man and I’ll truly eat anything, and maybe later, before going to bed we would brush our teeth together and flash each other frothy smiles in the mirror.

I considered kissing a flake of pastry off her lip, too, in a temporary burst of madness, before remembering it would be among the worst ideas I ever had. It was just as well I didn’t, because the doorbell was ringing, and four people from school were waiting outside.

Now, in the light of the golden sunset, we’re apart, as I, on the lawn, listen to a group of guys talk about the college offers pushed through their letter boxes this morning, and Evie sits with Tara Neary and her gang at the patio table and does her best to include herself. I hope they don’t tell her about the weird stuff I did at school, but chances are, they’ve already been through the highlight reel.

They all turn to look as the patio door swings open and Michelle comes out and down the steps towards me. To my great surprise, she greets me with a hug.

“Sorry, we’re a bit late,” she says. “Jen had a thing about her hair.”

“Ah, classic Jen,” I glance over her shoulder, and spot that signature flash of red in the kitchen. I’m uneasy, knowing I’ll have to have a grim conversation with her later, but later is later, and now, Michelle is smiling in a way I’m almost sure she never has, surveying the little crowd that has gathered in the garden.

“A good few showed up after all, didn’t they?”

“I think they wanted to see what the inside of my house looked like, to be honest.”

“Don’t be like that! They wanted to give you a proper sendoff, to wish you well on your big adventure.”

“Oh, yeah. That whole thing.”

“Are you nervous?”

I smirk. “Yeah, it’s my first time on a plane. I’m shitting it.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know I’m not talking about the flight.”

“I’m trying not to think about it, to be honest,” and my eyes, once again, find Evie through the crowd. “I’ll just get on the plane, and I’ll let it all sink in when I’m there.”

“Makes sense, in some sort of way, I suppose.”

“The whole thing is surreal,” I admit. “Like, tomorrow, before midday, I’ll be there. Like, I’ll live there. It seems like too much change all at the same time.”

“It’s what you wanted,” she reminds me. “And if you don’t like it, just come home.”

“I doubt I’ll come home. I think that’d be, like, the biggest failure of my life.”

“Worse than losing me?” She says, and I baulk, before she cracks a grin, “God, I was joking.”

I break into a laugh. “Nah, actually you know what was worse than that? Losing Goose.”

“Oh God,” she covers her mouth with her hands, “the Goose of it all. How could I forget about him? Do you have a theory about what happened?”

I grimace. “I want to be realistic, but that also means I don’t really want to speculate, because, I mean… Most likely…”

“Fucking hell, you know, I’ll never forget that…”

As we talk, and catch up and laugh with one another in ways that we haven’t for a decade, I lose track of time, and don’t pay attention to the sun that dips below the horizon. The evening moths vanish from the garden, and the stars rise and the summer dies, and my last day in Ireland ends without me even noticing.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

#lucky boy 2010 #short and sweet today lol #and later #forgive me

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mysteryshoptls · 1 year

Text

R Silver - Rabbit Wear Vignette

"We can't not eat it"

[Clock Town – Clock Park]

Silver: Both the jacket potato and the sausage roll were delicious. It may be because we ate them together.

Deuce: Really… Now that you've put it that way, I think that might be too!

Grim: Oh! They got somethin' tasty lookin' over at that stall! I'm gonna go eat some!

1. I'll go with you!

Deuce: It's fine for you two to run around, but don't get lost.

2. Wait for me!

Deuce: Grim just doesn't know how to settle down, huh.

Ortho: I also want to go and look around all the stuff in the park. I want to document all the goings-on of the festival.

Deuce: Okay, then I guess we'll all go off on our own for a bit. Everyone, meet back here in one hour.

Epel: Right, got it!

Epel: Okaaay, what should I do for an hour?

Silver: …

Epel: Oh, Silver-san. What's up, why're you looking so glum?

Silver: Before we left, my father told me to go and fully enjoy the festival here in this foreign country…

Silver: But now that we're told to do things on our own, I'm not sure what I should do.

Epel: I mean, it's nothing you have to think so hard about… Oh, hey! Why don't you look around the festival with me, then?

Silver: Is that alright? If you don't mind, then please, let me tag along with you.

Silver: I find comfort in all the greenery in this park.

Epel: I agree. My hometown's surrounded by nature too, so I find this super relaxing.

Epel: …Hm? Sniff, sniff… Oh, something smells good.

Silver: There are many pie stands over there. It must be from there.

Epel: It looks good! Don't you want to try some?

Silver: I suppose so. They are selling many different kinds of pies. I wonder which one would be best.

Silver: There's shepherd's pie with lamb, and cottage pie with beef…

Epel: Looks like they have sweet dessert pies too. Like lemon pies… And apple pies!

Pie Stall Owner: The Queendom of Roses is most well known for their pies, dear customers!

Epel: Oh, really! Then, since we're here, I definitely want to eat something that screams, "Queendom specialty!"

Silver: Sir, what is your most popular item?

Pie Stall Owner: Well, that'd be this one! If you've come all the way here to the Queendom, you have to eat this pie!

Silver: Hm? This is…

Epel: TH-THERE'S A TON OF FISH HEADS STICKING OUT OF THE PIE!!

Pie Stall Owner: That's a stargazy pie! I bet you've never seen that before, huh?

Epel: Herring heads and tails are sticking out of the pie… Just haphazardly… Looks like there's about 10 of them.

Epel: The shock of just seeing it is too crazy! It doesn't really look that good, to me?

Epel: U-Uh… Do you have any other recommendations…?

Silver: I'll take it.

Epel: EEHH!?

Silver: We can't not eat it, especially after the gentleman here has told us that this pie here is what screams, "Queendom specialty!"

Epel: I mean, true, I guess I did ask him… But still…

Epel: It's hard to consider eating it after looking into the eyes of those fish sticking out of the pie…

Silver: I see. I don't believe this will be any worse than the food that I've eaten up until now…

Silver: If you don't want to, I will not force you to. I will eat it myself. Good sir, please allow me one slice.

Pie Stall Owner: Here you go! Hot out of the oven!

Silver: Thank you. Then, I'll dig in.

[chomp]

Epel: …How is it?

Silver: It's delicious.

Epel: Eehh!? Really!?

Silver: Perhaps it's because I'm not as familiar with fish pies. It's a strange and interesting flavor.

Silver: I'm not very good with my words, so I'm afraid I can't explain myself very well.

Epel: Man, now I'm starting to get curious…

Epel: …Okay, fine. I'll try one too!

Pie Stall Owner: One more slice, okay! Here you go! It's still hot, so eat carefully.

Epel: …I don't want to look at those fish, so I should just close my eyes. Down the hatch… [bite]…

Epel: …Oh, it's actually pretty good…! It's kind of weird in it's own way, and the flavor grows on you.

Epel: The bitterness of the herring, the sweetness of the pumpkin, and the savory white sauce all mix well together.

Silver: I agree wholeheartedly.

Silver: Not only does it look interesting, the flavor is also unique. This dish truly feels like it would only be found here.

Epel: When I get back to campus, I gotta tell people about this. This'll be a good story to share.

Epel: I'm glad I tried it! But it's all thanks to you trying it out first, Silver-san!

Silver: No, it was because I chose to walk around with you that I was able to have such a memorable experience. I think I will be telling my father and the others about this.

Silver: Alright. Which stall should we head to next?

Silver: The dish we just tried didn't seem to appeal to you visually, after all. Let's look to eat something that you think would be delicious next.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst silver #deuce spade #epel felmier #ortho shroud #twst deuce #twst epel #twst ortho #twst grim #twst translation #twst white rabbit festival

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themaladaptivewriter12 · 2 months

Text

"Happy Birthday, Leona!"

Title: "Happy Birthday, Leona!"

Parings: Leona Kingscholar x Twisted Wonderland Male OC (Mirai Yuhara)

Summary:

With Leona's Birthday being tomorrow, Mirai, Grim, and the guys at Savanaclaw try to throw Leona the best surprise Birthday Party, but suddenly things go haywire with only three hours to spare. Will they make it in time, or utterly fail?

cw: A bit of crude humor, but nothing extreme. Kissing, surprise parties, flowers and their meanings, fluff and humor

a/n: It's been a while, gosh I miss writing for these two. This was so much fun to do, and it wasn't even supposed to be this long. The creative juices started flowing, and the next thing I knew, parts that I was supposed to keep short and sweet were flushed out, and the next thing i knew, this thing was twenty pages long and 7k words.

a/n: Idk why, but for some reason, the tune that came to mind while writing the rap was the tune to the Pixies rap from the Fairly Odd Parents lololol. ｡ﾟ(TヮT)

Happy Birthday, Leona! Thanks for coming home twice this month with both your SSRs! (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡ I'll also make a banner for this later.

Reblogs are appreciated, just use my custom tag, #TheMaladaptiveWriter12, if you do! (─‿‿─)♡

Cross posted from my Ao3: TheMaladaptiveWriter12

Leona’s Birthday was in a couple more hours, and let’s just say, this was the calmest surprise Birthday party planning Mirai has ever done. Well, that’s what he thought. Now they were on a time crunch and he honestly didn’t know if they would make midnight on time.

Everything was going great, smooth even, but then things went downhill after the first batch of cupcakes were left in the oven to burn.

“Guys?” Jaxton, a Jackal Beastman, asked wearily, “What’s that smell?”

“I don’t know,” Garfield, a Cat Beastman, said.

Mirai sniffed the air, stopping his task of tying ribbons into bows, trying to decipher what the scent was, when suddenly it hit him. “The cupcakes!”

Mirai, Ruggie, and a group of other Beastmen rushed to the kitchen to see the oven billowing with smoke.

“Ta-Take them out,” Jack yelled.

Mirai ripped open the oven and reached in to grab the pan before a series of shouts stopped him.

“Wh-What? What?!” Mirai shouted, turning to look at the group.

“You were just gonna grab those with your hand?!” Jack yelled.

“Of course not,” Mirai yelled.

“You literally just stuck your hand in the oven,” Ruggie shouted.

“I was using my prosthetic!”

The room went silent, the look on their faces was as if they found the dumbest species on Twisted Wonderland.

“Ya’know,” Ruggie started, “I thought you were gonna say something that implied I missed the oven mitt on your hand or somethin’, but this just confirms your stupidity and my point.”

“Hey,” Mirai shouted.

“Guys,” Garfield yelled, “They’re still in the oven!”

“Shoot!” Mirai snatched the pan and whirled around, trying to figure out what to do with it. “Wh-What do I do with it?! What do I do with it?!”

“Put it in the sink,” multiple guys yelled, “In the sink!”

“The window! Throw it out the window,” others panicked.

Mirai panicked and just threw the pan across the room, and just his luck, it clattered out the window, burnt cupcakes tumbling out onto the floor, into the sink, and the rest with the pan onto the ground below.

“Why'dja throw it out the window?!” Jack shouted.

“I don’t know! I panicked,” Mirai cried.

“Y'all wanna wake the boss with all this yellin’?!” Sergi, a Serval Beastman, scolded, popping his head into the kitchen. “Keep it down!”

The group in the kitchen quieted, a shared look of embarrassment coloring their faces. It was true, if the burnt smell of cake didn’t wake Leona, their yelling sure would.

“I-It doesn’t matter,” Garfield said, after a beat of silence, “It smelled anyways! We’ll get it later. What we need is another batch of cupcakes!”

“I got it,” Mirai said, already grabbing the utensils. “There was some batter left over. We can use that, then make some more.”

“I’ll help,” Jaxton offered, grabbing the ingredients.

“Ruggie,” someone called, “We need some help over here!”

“Coming,” Ruggie answered, leaving the kitchen with a small wave.

Jack and a couple of others followed behind him, and as for the rest, they stuck around to help with the baking.

“We need to get this burnt sugar smell outta the dorm,” Azizi, a Kudu Beastman, said. “If we could smell it out there, there’s no doubt Leona can in his room.”

“Well, what do we do?” Jaxton asked, “If we spray some air freshener, all it's gonna do is mix. And Boss hates that stuff.”

“Baking soda, lemon, or coffee grounds,” Alfonz, a Leopard Beastman supplied. “I looked it up. We got any of that?”

“Baking soda! Here,” Azizi said, shoving the tin into Alfonz’ hands. “And Lemons!”

The Leopard grabbed a small bowl and dished out a couple of spoonfuls of baking soda and to top it off, shave a sprinkle or two of lemon zest on the top.

“Ima go set this outside his door and hope for the best,” Alfonz said, picking up the bowl. “You guys can set some out here and in the lounge. Be right back.”

Alfonz left the kitchen and Azizi went to litter the place with baking soda. Mirai on the other hand looked at the clock and gasped when it read nine thirty-seven.

“We’re not gonna make it,” Mirai whined, furiously mixing a bowl of cake batter.

“If ya keep on talking like that, then we definitely won’t,” Rover, a Dog Beastman, gruffed as he rushed by the kitchen with some party supplies in his hands.

“Anyone else need to add a gift?!” Ruggie asked, stacking the gifts carefully on the gift table. “Because once I finish this, your gift goes on the floor.”

“Me! Me,” Mirai shouted, rushing to put the tray of cupcakes in the oven before rushing out the kitchen.

In the Lounge things were a mess. Streamers and confetti was all over the place, balloons and ribbons hung precariously from the banisters, and there still was no cake. Grim, on the other hand, was no help at all, snoozing away on one of the vacant chairs, a pillow over his head.

“Here,” Mirai said, handing his little box over.

Ruggie smiled and placed Mirai’s gift securely on top of his gift tower. “Perfect.”

Mirai smiled looking around the room, yeah it was a complete mess, but who this mess was for made everything worth it.

“Has anyone seen the ‘Ps’ for the Happy Birthday sign?!” Luan, a Lion Beastman, yelled.

“Did you check the closet?” James, a Wolf Beastman, asked.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did!”

“Where’s Chi-Chi?” Ikemba, a Boar Beastman, asked. “I need him to crawl behind the shelf to plug this in.”

“You calling me small?!” Chiumbo, a Meerkat Beastman, yelled.

“Well, I certainly can’t fit behind there.”

“Give it to me,” the Meerkat pouted, crawling behind the thing.

“Anything else you all need us to carry,” Jack asked, entering the lounge area, a group of stronger Beastmen following close behind.

“Not that I know of,” Raphael, a Mountain Lion Beastman, said from his spot on the floor.

The fact that Leona had so many people who care for him, to plan a surprise Birthday party in the middle of the night, made the Prefect’s heart swell with joy. Thinking back on the day, Mirai couldn’t help but laugh to himself, wondering how they even pulled any of this off.

Ruggie started the day off cleaning His Royal Highness’ room. He wanted to make sure Leona felt as comfortable as possible for his big day tomorrow, and that also ensured that he could sleep undisturbed for as long as he wanted, without having to come in and clean. Also, for what was to come later, they didn’t need to be stepping on discarded homework, sweaty gym clothes, expensive jewelry that should not have been left on the floor, or Leona’s worn unmentionables. Ruggie wouldn’t do that to Leona, so to save the Lion’s pride, he picked them up and tossed them into the laundry basket at his hip.

“Whaddya doin’?” Leona groggily muttered, not bothering to open his eyes and or face Ruggie properly.

Thankfully, Ruggie was a great liar. “Heard a couple o’ guys talkin’ ‘bout how they wanna wash clothes today. I don’t wanna be stuck with having to fight over a washing machine all day, so I might as well do it now an’ get it outta the way.”

Leona just huffed a sigh, rolling over to face away from the rising sun, “Jus’ close the door on ya way out.”

“Will do, Boss,” Ruggie smiled.

The Hyena continued to clean as quietly as possible and it wasn’t until he was just about done that he noticed Leona had fallen back asleep. Once his task was done, Ruggie slipped out the door, closing it slowly.

“Alright! task one: done,” Ruggie whispered as he made his way to inform the others.

Later that day, Mirai, Ruggie, Jack, and a group of Savanaclaw students made their way over to Sam’s shop to get some supplies for the party. Jack’s group was in charge of party favors, and Ruggie’s group was in charge of food, and as for the rest, they were here to pick Birthday gifts for their Dorm Head. Mirai had already secured his gift, the present arriving in town two days prior. All he had to do was pick it up and have it wrapped. That was a little event all in itself, but at least he wasn’t like the others, rushing to find a suitable gift with only one day to spare.

“What do you need from me?” Mirai asked.

“Actually,” Ruggie started, “I forgot to tell you the Birthday tradition for Leona this year.”

“Tradition?”

“Does it involve food?” Grim asked.

“No,” Ruggie huffed. “Ya see, this year, each third year student gets honored with their own Bloom Bouquet, or Broomquet as we like to call it.”

“Oh, yeah! I remember now,” Mirai said, thinking back on Cater’s and a couple of his other third year friends on their own Birthdays

“Yeah, but the thing is, the dorm has to make it in honor of that student, we want you to make it.”

Mirai looked taken aback, “Why me?!”

“Well not “make it” make it, like we want you to assemble it.”

“Why not someone else? Like you or Jack?”

“There was nothin’ in it for me,” Ruggie supplied. “And we asked Jack if he wanted to do it, but he claimed his hands weren’t too good with small meticulous stuff like tying ribbons an’ stuff. So you’re the next best thing.”

Mirai bit his lip, deep in thought. “I can just get him one myself, it doesn’t have to be this particular bouquet.”

“I know, but wouldn’t it be nice if Leona got a Broomquet made from his boyfriend this year?”

“Gross,” Grim huffed.

The fight in Mirai dissolved. Flushing, Mirai sighed, “Alright, alright. I’ll do it.”

Ruggie smiled, “Good. Now go find your flower to add to the Broomquet.”

Mirai made his way to the Botanical Gardens and over to the flowers, wondering which one to pick. Ruggie sent him a picture of a list of flowers that were already being added to the Broomquet for reference.

“So yellow is the theme here,” Mirai muttered, looking at the picture of other third years from their dorm and their Broomquets.

“Why can’t we just pick a dandelion and be done with it?” Grim huffed.

“Because it's for his Birthday, it has to be special. You wouldn’t want some ordinary tuna for your Birthday, would you?”

“I guess not,” Grim grumbled.

“Thought so.”

Mirai wandered the gardens, looking at each yellow flower, trying to make sure none of his potential picks were repeated. As he followed the path, lost in his head, the Prefect stepped on something as he turned the corner to the next row of flowers.

“Why am I getting a sense of deja vu here?”

Mirai gasped, jumping a couple steps away only to find the man on his mind, lying between two low hanging willow trees. A single bright green eye landed on the Prefect, making the blonde’s skin prickle with goosebumps. “What was he doing here?” Mirai thought, “Wasn’t he supposed to be in gym class?”

“S-Sorry, Leona,” Mirai muttered, flushing from embarrassment.

“Are you really? Cus it feels like ya did this before,” Leona smirked.

“A-And all those times were accidents, I-I swear!”

Leona chuckled, “Calm down, I was only messin’ with ya. Whaddya doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Mirai shot back. “You’re supposed to be in gym class.”

“I went to gym class,” Leona smirked. “Vargas said I could make up for the days I skipped by running twenty laps around the field. I did, and then I left.”

“Leona!”

“What? Vargas never said I had to stay after I made up those classes. It’s his fault for not being more specific.”

Mirai sighed, exasperated.

“Well,” Grim said thoughtfully, “He’s not wrong.”

“No, he is wrong,” Mirai scolded, “And don’t be gettin’ any ideas Grim. We’re going to gym later today.”

“Awww.”

“You never answered my question, Herbivore,” Leona muttered.

“Huh?” Mirai gasped, eyes snapping back to the Lion.

“My question. Whaddya doin’ here?”

Mirai froze, he had forgotten Leona asked him that. Mirai’s thoughts were reeling as he tried to wrack his mind with what kind of story to come with. “I-I-I, uh, I wanted, I want some flowers to, to, uh, to…brighten up my room!”

“To brighten your room?” Leona questioned with a raised eyebrow, not buying a word the Prefect said.

“Y-Yeah, I-” Mirai’s eyes darted around the gardens until his eyes landed on a bright yellow Lily. That’s it! “I-I-I was feeling a little down an-and I asked Professor Crewel if I, if I could have some Lilies ‘cus, because they remind me of my mother.”

“But I thought we were getting flowers for that bouq-” Grim started before Mirai cut him off loudly.

“Yes, a bouquet for my mother! I know she’s not here, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s like she’s here with me, ya’know?”

Leona’s eyes immediately softened, his ears flattening against his head. Gosh, Mirai hated that look on the man’s face. He hated lying, and he hated the fact that he just lied about how he was feeling, but that was the only excuse he could come up with on the spot. But the Lily part was true though, Mirai loved Lilies, they always made him happy, and they always reminded him of his mother. Also, now he knew just what flower to add to Leona’s Broomquet.

Leona sighed, “Hey, I-”

Mirai shook his head hurriedly, hoping Leona would let him off the hook. “I’m fine, really. It’ll pass like it usually does. Lilies always remind me of her, and they always make me happy.”

Leona sighed and after a moment of silence, Leona spoke once more, “Stay?”

“Next time?” Mirai asked, clipping a couple of yellow lilies and placing them in a plastic bag. “I wanna get these in some cool water.”

“There better be,” Leona huffed, lying back down, and this time, tucking his tail in beneath himself. “Be careful on your way out.”

“Oh? Why should I? Is a big bad lion gonna get me?”

“He might. And if ya don’t wanna be stuck here for the rest of the day, I’d advise you to start walkin’.”

“Whaddya gonna do abou-”

Leona lunged forward, a playful growl on his smirking lips and Mirai squealed, grabbing Grim as he ran out the Botanical Gardens.

Back in his room, Mirai sat on the floor, trying to figure out where to put everyone’s flowers. He was artistic, but he wasn’t some prodigy. He wanted the Broomquet to look very aesthetically pleasing, but also, he wanted it to be fair. Like, he really wanted to put the lilies dead center, but he didn’t want it to look like he was putting himself over the rest of Leona’s dorm. And as much as symmetry would look pleasing to the eye, that’s just not how flower arranging was done.

“What do you think Grim? Should the lilies go here, next to the orchids, or here, next to the rosebuds?”

“I don’t even know what those are! How am I ‘pposed to know where to put a bunch o’ weeds?”

Mirai sighed, flopping backwards onto the floor. He never was gonna get this done on time. He wanted this to be special for Leona. Mirai knew Leona had conflicting views surrounding his birthday, that he often didn’t see the want or need to celebrate his own birth, and Mirai could somewhat understand that.

From Mirai’s own experience, he could understand not liking one’s own Birthday, for he didn’t like celebrating his own Birthday either. For Mirai, it reminded him of that life changing accident, it reminded him that his mother was no longer here to celebrate with him. Some days it felt as if he were the cause of it, and others felt as if he celebrated his own Birthday, he was celebrating his own mother’s passing. But since being here, Mirai’s thoughts have changed, not entirely, but slowly, and that’s what Mirai wanted for Leona.

Leona’s reasoning was light years away from Mirai’s own, but that didn’t make it any less damaging, and or unimportant. Leona didn’t didn’t have to change his view completely, because change didn’t happen overnight. One day couldn’t change twenty years worth of trauma, twenty years of feeling inferior, of feeling forgotten, hated, and like a burden, but if tomorrow made the lion reconsider his outlook on his Birthday, even by the smallest decimal, Mirai would be happy.

Mirai looked over the text message one more time, reading over their names and meanings, trying to get an idea from when it hit him.

“I think I figured out how I’m gonna arrange them,” Mirai said happily.

“Don’t care,” Grim yelled from his room.

Mirai swore he was gonna bonk that cat on the head the next time he saw him.

It was eleven twenty-two and things were still in utter disarray. The burnt smell was finally going away, the pan from outside was retrieved and the cupcakes were finally cool enough to be iced. They also decided to make a cake entirely out of cured meats. It was Azizi’s idea to use cured meats instead, saying how the smell of cooking meat would wake Leona up.

“Has anyone found the ‘PP’ yet?!” Luan yelled.

“Have ya checked your pants?” Jaxton cackled, making Ruggie and several other Hyenas burst out laughing.

Luan growled menacingly and Jaxton growled back.

“Guys,” Jack warned, “Now is not the time.”

In the lounge, things were coming together nicely. The majority of the decorations were up, but there was still much to do, not to mention all the stuff they had to clean. The snack table needed assembling, they needed to find the rest of the sign and the finishing touches to tie in the whole thing.

Mirai was slowly bringing over trays of frosted cupcakes. The white frosted ones were a vanilla cake topped with coconut cream frosting, the brown frosted ones were a spice cake topped with chocolate frosting, and the yellow frosted ones were a pineapple cake topped with a mango frosting.

Jaxton tailed him with a three tiered spice cake topped off with a buttercream frosting. It was beautifully iced, a diamond pattern etched into the cream topped off with yellow and brown sprinkles. Mirai honestly didn’t know how the Jackal did it with so much stress and such little time.

Azizi was last with the meat cake, the two tiered masterpiece made up of jerky, sausage, prosciutto, salami, and pepperoni. It was held together by caramelized maple bacon and toothpicks, the maple glaze sticky and savory sweet, and meat cake was topped off with a savory barbecue sauce that was dripped over the edge of the cake, tying it all in. The thing seemed to shimmer in the golden light of the Savanaclaw lounge, giving the tower of meat an elegant look. It almost made you forget it was made of meat.

“Found the ‘Ps’ for the sign,” Chiumbo called. “They were under the chair!”

“Give ‘em here,” Luan called, rushing over to the lost letters.

Finally the sign was complete. The back wall finally had the words Happy Birthday decorating it with its dazzling silver color.

“Time check,” Mirai called, arranging his cupcake display in a yellow, brown, and white pattern.

“It’s eleven thirty-five,” Ruggie called.

The room froze, all of their heads snapping to the nearest clock, as if to confirm the time for themselves.

“Now’s not the time for sitting around,” Ikemba chided, “Pick up the pace.”

The room sprung into action. There were things being thrown, feet scurried across the floor, tails swishing behind them.

“I need some help cleaning up the confetti,” Rover yelled.

“Coming,” Garfield.

“I’m adding the floating lights now,” Raphael said, “So no one’s allowed in the water.”

“Done stringing the lights,” Alfonz called.

“Has anyone seen my shirt?!” James yelled, running around the room.

“Why’dja take it off?!” Ikemba yelled.

“I was hot!”

“Balloons are done,” Sergi hollered from atop the banister.

“Meat cake is finished,” Azizi said, sprinkling the last touches of oregano and thyme leaves on the cake.

“The music is set,” Chiumbo chirped.

“Give me another minute," Jaxton said as he slowly placed a hibiscus flower atop the cake. “I’m almost done.”

“I’m lighting the candles,” Luan informed, casting the room in a warm golden glow.

“Whoever is done, start making your way to Leona’ room,” Ruggie called. “And remember to keep it down.”

The room began to thin out, the dorm making their way to Leona’s den. Mirai added the finishing touches to his cupcake display, placing a flower or piece of candy here or there. Once he was finished, whatever was left was added to the table display.

“You guys ready?” Jack called, holding a sleepy Grim in his arms.

“Y-Yes! I’m coming,” Mirai called, “Lemme just-”

Mirai didn’t finish his sentence as he rushed to the kitchen to grab the single cupcake that he had saved for this very moment. It was a one of the spice cake ones, topped with buttercream frosting and gold luster dust. Round pearly sprinkles decorated the top, one side encrusted with golden sugar crystals. The finishing touch was the candle, a small golden crown that took Mirai ages to find. It reminded him of Leona and Mirai hoped he liked it.

Mirai was one of the last ones upstairs with seven minutes to spare. Everyone was crouched in the hall, quiet as a mouse. Mirai couldn’t resist picking up the ghost camera that hung around his neck and snapped a photo. He wanted to capture every moment of this night, so they all could look back on this one day and smile with the same exact warm and fuzzy feeling the blonde had now.

“Alright, Prefect,” Ruggie whispered, opening the door so it was ajar, “you first.”

Mirai slowly crouched his way in, moving all the way around until he was smack dab in the middle. One by one the others made their ways in. Of course there was some pushing and shoving, and of course some tails were kneeled on, but slowly but surely, all the guys crowded the bed until Leona was surrounded by the occupants of his entire dorm.

Mirai looked over Leona’s peaceful form as he snored away under the pale moonlight shining through his open bay windows. He looked devastatingly beautiful, it was almost ethereal with how he slept, chocolate tresses cascading down strong bronze shoulders. Something about it all, all of this, everything, made something like a mixture of love and sorrow well up in his chest. Mirai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he swallowed the feeling down, he’d deal whatever that was later, but right now, it was Leona’s hour, his day.

“Fifteen seconds,” Ruggie whispered, pulling Mirai from his thoughts, and the room went still in anticipation.

“Fourteen,” Jack whispered.

“Thirteen,” Raphael continued.

“Twelve,” Jaxton smiled.

“Eleven,” Azizi added.

“Ten,” Luan whispered.

Leona stirred in his bed, a glowing green eye cracking open.

“Nine,” Ikemba said.

“Eight,” Chiumbo counted.

“Seven,” James continued.

“Six,” Rover added.

“Wha-What are you guys…” Leona trailed off, rolling over to sit up.

“Five,” Garfield said.

“Four,” Alfonz cheered.

Leona’s reflective green eyes darted around the room wildly, reflective eyes of many colors staring back at him. “Wha-” Leona muttered, eyes widening when he noticed the amount of people shoved into his bedroom.

“Three,” Sergi called.

“Two,” Grim cheered.

Suddenly the room was lit by a small flame, the lighter hovering over the wick on the crown shaped candle before it came to life with a near silent ‘poof.’ Everyone’s gazes honed in on the single flame, then back at Leona was sat there in shock.

“One,” Mirai smiled widely.

“Happy Birthday, Leona,” they all cheered. Confetti poppers sounded, party favors were blown, and pictures were snapped. Suddenly the bedside lamp covered the room in a comforting golden glow, and before Leona could say anything, his dormmates began a very unique rendition of the Happy Birthday song. Sound effects were added, someone was definitely off key, parts were too slow or rushed, a rap verse was added, and was someone singing in an opera voice? It was silly, it was loud, and it was goofy, but it was happy, it was loving and caring. Soon it came to an end.

“Happy Birthday! To! You,” They all finished, before cheering at their own monstrosity of a song.

“Now blow out the candle and make a wish,” Mirai smiled, handing over the cupcake.

Leona could immediately smell the spice and buttercream frosting. Taking the small cake from his hands, Leona stared at it, taking in the detailing of the clearly handmade treat. Opening his mouth, Leona went to blow, but he was immediately stopped by a series of shouts.

“What?” Leona asked, taken aback.

“C’mon,” Azizi protested.

“Make a wish,” Chiumbo urged.

“You don’t have to tell us what it is,” James reassured.

“Just wish for anything,” Rover said.

Leona sighed, “Alright, alright.”

Leona closed his eyes, thinking for a moment, and after several seconds, his green eyes opened once more, and with a breath, he blew out the melted crown candle.

The guys cheered loudly, blowing the party favors once more, confetti showering over Leona’s bed.

“You may eat,” Sergi urged.

Leona shook his head, a small smile on his face as peeled off the golden cupcake paper, and took a bite. Immediately, Leona’s taste buds had ascended. Leona groaned in delight as his tongue was met with the buttery soft buttercream frosting, not too sweet, but sweet enough to pair beautifully with the spice cake. He could taste the cinnamon, ginger, cloves and nutmeg, it wasn’t too strong, not too spicy, but it was enough to get that soft, rich and pillowy, spice cake flavor.

Leona forgot himself for a moment there, until he caught the snickers coming from his dormmates. Shaking his head, Leona scoffed without malice, “Go on, laugh. ‘S’not gonna change the fact that this cake is so frickin’ good.”

They all laughed as they watched Leona devour the last of his cupcake. Mirai laughed, snapping a picture of Leona, who had frosting on his cheek, and the corner of his mouth.

“Oi,” Leona shouted, the flash of the ghost camera alerting him of Mirai’s dastardly deeds.

“Oh, no,” Mirai smirked, “That one’s def gonna go in the scrapbook.”

“Scrapbook?!”

“Well now that that’s out the way,” Jaxton cheered, “Let’s party!”

“Woohoo! Party time!”

The mass of them pushed and shoved their way out of the room, and back down to the lounge and shortly after, loud music began to shake the floor.

“Party?” Leona asked, but his question fell on deaf ears as he was promptly pulled by his arms. “W-Wait!”

“C’mon, Leona,” Garfield said.

“Yeah,” Chiumbo agreed, “Let’s go.”

“W-Wait! Wai-O-Okay! Okay,” Leona rushed out, moving to kneel on the bed, his sheets falling away from his hips. “Lemma get dressed first.”

Mirai immediately turned his head towards the window as he had just gotten an eyeful. Mirai honestly forgot the Beastmen tended to sleep absolutely naked, especially during the warmer months.

“Yay,” the two cheered like small children before rushing out of the room to join the party.

“See ya downstairs,” Ruggie said with a chuckle, Jack hot on his heels.

The rest followed suit, giving their own waves, not a single one of them bothered the state of undress from their Housewarden.

There was a pregnant pause before Leona spoke again, “You still here?”

Mirai’s eyes darted in Leona’s direction, but his gaze never fell on the Beastman, “C-Can I look?”

“Sure.”

That ‘sure’ was too nonchalant, Mirai didn’t believe him, “N-No, are you dressed?”

“Aw,” Leona teased, “You didn’t want a show?”

“Leona,” Mirai warned, but his flush on his freckled cheeks made it less threatening.

“I’m dressed,” Leona chuckled, “You can look now.”

Mirai slowly looked his way and, yeah, he was dressed. Leona opted to wear just the top and the jeans to his dorm specific uniform, not bothering with the jacket or any of the jewelry he typically wore.

“Let’s go?” Mirai asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Leona muttered following Mirai out the door.

The party had just started, but yet somehow in full swing. The music was blasting, the lights were dimmed, and the food looked good. Now that Leona was up, the guys decided to grill some meat on an open flame. Yeah it was kinda smokey, but fresh meat off a grill, slathered in an array of sauces was something you couldn’t beat.

Cake was served and it was delicious. Leona got the first slice, which he all but shoved in his mouth. His excuse, that the spice cake was “so dang good,” earned a blush from Jaxton, and teasing from the others. There were so many to choose from, but Mirai’s favorites were the chocolate frosted cupcakes he made, and Jaxton’s spice cake. Leona and the others practically ate everything they could get their hands on, especially Grim, but this was why they had seconds and thirds ready.

The music was good, the bass rattling the lounge. Mirai couldn’t understand, for a bunch with such sensitive hearing, they sure did like loud dance music. Azizi and Garfield challenged each other to a dance battle, which Garfiled lost, then somewhere down the line, they got Jack and Ikemba to dance, which turned out hilarious. Raphael goaded Leona into dancing at some point, and after several minutes of badgering and whining, Leona danced. Let’s just say after that beautiful display, Mirai was smitten even more with the Lion.

The party continued, games were played ranging starting with dorm races. Luan, Leona, Rover, Ruggie, Raphael, Jaxton, and Alfonz raced for a good while. They started from the lounge and had to make their way around the dorm and back. Leona, Luan, and Alfonz were tied with three wins, Raphael and Ruggie were tied with two, and the rest with one. Mirai remembers seeing the look of sheer determination on Leona’s face as he sprinted down the halls, the Lion and the Leopard hot on their Housewarden’s tail, and when Leona crossed that line first, Mirai remembers screaming the loudest.

Ikemba was thrown into the watering hole by a couple of the guys at some point, and after Chiumbo went on an angry tangent, and was inevitably chucked into the water after the Boar, games of chicken were played. Mirai watched from the sidelines with a couple of others while they all splashed and yelled in the water. Chiumbo was on Ikemba’s shoulders, and James held Azizi. The Wolf and the Boar kept a steady hand as the two on their shoulders wrestled for a good while, the was no give, until the Kudu overpowered Chiumbo and sent the Meerkat into the water.

When things began to simmer down, card games were played, and of course Ruggie, Garfield and Sergi cheated, which they denied with their cunning cat-like smiles. But when the others exposed their lies by pulling cards from their sleeves, seats and hair, the Servat, the cat, and Hyena just laughed. And where there were no card games being played, small conversation was being made. It was peaceful.

Mirai stood away from the group with a smile, snapping pictures here and there. This was probably one of the best Birthday parties Mirai had ever planned, this probably even topped his own Birthday party the guys threw him a month prior. Mirai was looking through his camera roll when a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder. Mirai gasped, head snapping to the perpetrator, it was Leona.

“You scared me,” Mirai sighed, his heart pounding.

“That’s because you got the heart of a mouse,” Leona gruffed.

Mirai stuck his tongue out petulantly.

“Or maybe a ferret?”

Mirai laughed, setting his camera down. “Having fun?”

“Yeah,” Leona said quietly, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I’m glad. We all spent so much time trying to do this for you, so I’m happy you’re enjoying it.”

Suddenly a siren sounded, and James, Raphael, and Rover come out with sunglasses on their faces, air horns in their hands, and a megaphone.

“Weeeeewhoooooooo,” James yelled. “Are you ready for some live music?!”

“Oh no,” Leona sighed, pressing a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.”

“Oh yes,” Mirai smirked, pulling out his phone to record.

Jack grabbed Leona by the hands, pulled him to his chair. Leona couldn’t get himself together before the guys covered him in beaded necklaces and smacked a plastic gold crown on his head.

“This one goes out to you Leona,” Rover yelled, pointing at his Housewarden across the room.

“Happy Birthday, Housewarden,” Raphael shouted.

What followed after was a horrible rap about Leona and his Birthday. It was a bunch of nonsense. Rover kept howling, which triggered James to howl. Raphael was beatboxing, then when Rover continued to rap, James started breakdancing.

“Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday! Today is your special day,” Rover rapped.

“Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday! C’mon let me hear ya say,” Raphael continued.

“Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday,” the wolf, dog and Mountain Lion chanted, ending their performance.

The guys cheered and clapped. Dogs barked, cats meowed, others trilled, yipped, and others roared and howled. They threw confetti, hooped, hollered, and made noise with their noise makers, the works. Mirai was cackling, tears in his eyes, and Leona looked thoroughly embarrassed from his seat.

“Ay yo,” Raphael called, “Somebody send that to me!”

“Already on it,” Azizi laughed.

“That’s going on the cloud,” Ruggie laughed.

“I’m posting this and tagging every last one of us,” Luan guffawed.

“Do not,” Leona shouted.

“Alright,” Alfonz called, “I think it’s about time we opened presents.”

“Me first,” Jaxton yelled.

“Move it,” Luan yelled, shoving the Jackal, “He’s opening mine first!”

“I grabbed mine first, therefore he opened mine first,” Chiumbo squeaked.

“Hold on, guys,” Jack scolded, “You’re going too fast. We already picked the first gift, remember.”

“Oh yeah,” Rover yelled. “Where’s the prefect?!”

“Overhere,” Ruggie said, walking back into the room with the Prefect in tow.

Leona looked up and spotted Ruggie and Mirai, who was holding a distinctly shaped wrapped gift.

“I, uh, it’s uh, it’s from all of us,” Mirai stammered.

“But,” Ikemba urged.

“But they chose me to assemble it,” Mirai finished, passing over the large gift. “Happy Birthday.”

Leona stood up, taking the wrapped object by the smaller end. Leona already could tell what it was the moment they brought it in, Sevens, he could practically smell it from where he was standing. Unwrapping the gift, Leona slowly revealed what he suspected, his Broomquet. Leona stared in awe at the bright vibrant yellows and the deep reds and purples. Turning it around, Leona spotted a card, tied to around the base of the bouquet by a string.

“What’s this?” Leona muttered, picking it up.

“Read it,” Azizi urged.

On the card were all the flowers they chose and their meanings. Leona read it over carefully, taking in each and every one of them.

“You can choose whichever meaning you want,” Chiumbo reassured.

“We just wanted to convey how much you mean to us,” Garfield added.

“A thanks for being our Housewarden for these past three years,” Alfonz said.

“Thanks guys,” Leona smiled, placing the Broomquet beside his chair.

“Now that that’s over with,” Luan said, “Prefect!”

Mirai jumped, “Y-Yeah?”

“You’re up first!”

Mirai barely coughed the box thrown his way, the gold wrapping paper slipping in his hands. “I, no, I, i-it’s, it’s okay,” Mirai stammered, face flushed, “I-I can go last!”

“Nah, after that reaction,” Leona smirked, slouching in his chair, “Hand it over.”

Mirai flushed a pretty pink and slowly walked the small box over, “Happy Birthday, Leona.”

Leona took the box gingerly, and unwrapped it carefully, trying to tear the wrapping paper. Pulling it away, a black velveteen box fell into his hands. Leona looked up at the Prefect, his eyebrows raised.

A chorus of teasing ‘ooohhs’ and giggles rang out the room.

“Is that what I think it is?” Luan teased.

“Prefect,” Raphael teased, placing a strong arm around his shoulders, “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“I gotta get pictures,” Chiumbo squealed.

“I-It’s, it’s not like that,” Mirai hurried out, “I-If it was, I definitely would never do it posed as a birthday gift.”

Leona was silent as he pulled open the box. Placing it in his palm, he pulled out a gold necklace.

“I uh, I wanted to give you something you could take with you, when you leave later,” Mirai muttered, playing with his earrings, “You don’t wear earrings, and I definitely couldn’t do matching rings, a-and I know you always were a necklace, so, yeah.”

Leona put the box down, to inspect the necklace. It was a small, thin piece of jewelry, dainty, compared to the adornments the Prince normally wore, and lighter too. In the middle of the chain was a gold sun, and in the middle of it, was a small red gem.

“Put it on for me?” Leona more like commanded, running a thumb over the vibrant red gem.

Mirai shuffled over, taking the necklace from his hand and unclasped it. Leona sat up straighter, his head tiling up to look the Prefect in the eye as Mirai gingerly moved his hair to clasp the chain around his neck.

“Th-There,” Mirai muttered, flushing, pulling a similar gold chain from his pocket to show the Savanaclaw Housewarden. The necklace was an identical pair to Leona’s, the only difference being the gem in the middle. Instead of the ruby colored gem that adorned Leona’s, Mirai’s was made with a blue and purple gem instead. “And when you go back home tonight, you have a little bit of me with you, and I, you.”

Leona stared at the Prefect for a moment before standing up from his chair. Mirai’s gaze flicked up to the Beastman, his heart stuttering, thoughts reeling. Before the blonde could get a word out, Leona slipped the chain from Mirai’s fingertips.

“You can match me tonight,” Leona muttered, clasping the necklace around Mirai’s neck, “when you accompany me for my Birthday party as my partner.” Leona’s fingers trailed along Mirai’s jaw as he pulled away, his green eyes boring into Mirai’s.

“Kiss him,” Luan whispered.

Mirai flushed, his head snapping to the others.

“Kiss him,” Ikemba followed.

“Kiss him,” Alfonz chanted.

“G-Guys,” Mirai stuttered, trying to quiet their teasing.

“Kiss him,” they all chanted. “Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!”

“Guys! Seriously! I’m not gonna-”

Suddenly, Mirai was grabbed by the waist and pulled forward. Mirai's head snapped back to Leona who was looking down at him. The Prefect couldn’t even get a word out his mouth before a pair of warm lips were pressed against his. Leona deepened the kiss, and Mirai melted, resulting in hoops and hollers from Leona’s dormmates, and groans of disgust from Grim.

“I hate yall,” Mirai pouted, hiding his face behind his arm.

“Alright, who’s next?” Sergi asked.

The rest presents were given and opened, Leona accepting each and every one of them with an open heart. The Housewarden received things from new knee pads for his spelldrive uniform, to things like brushes and combs, and hair care products. Somewhere down the line, Leona received a pillow, a new blanket and an eye mask for sleeping, which the Lion greatly appreciated.

By the time they finished, the sun was rising over the horizon. It was getting close to five in the morning and not a wink of sleep was had. The air was warmed and with the brightening sky, eyes were closing, so food was put away, tables and chairs were moved, and blankets and pillows were spread out across the floor.

They all lay together like a Lion Pride that had retired for the day after a successful hunt. There was no more music, no more chatter, but the sound of birds chirping to start their day, the serene sound of the waterfall that constantly from above them, and the occasional snore or nonsensical muttering from unconscious lips.

Chiumbo lay across Ikemba, using his body like a pillow, a blanket wrapped around them. Jack lay with James and the other wolves, and Ruggie with the other Hyena. Raphael and Alphonz lay with Luan and the other lion’s and big cats, Grim sprawled out next to them as they basked in the sun. Sergi and Garfield kept Rover company in the far corner, and Azizi slept by himself, closest to the water. Leona lay at the highest part of the lounge, curled up like a house cat in the midday sun, and in his arms lay Mirai.

The Prefect laid there, his eyes tracing the hard lines of Leona’s collarbones, his gaze eventually wandering to the shiny gold sun pendant. It was beautiful against Leona’s rich skin, and Mirai swelled with joy. Leona had loved it, much to Mirai’s delight, it made all that fuss he made about finding the right gift those some odd days ago null and void.

Mirai reached up to touch it when Leona spoke, “You can’t sleep if you’re looking at me.”

Mirai gasped, snatching his hand away from Leona’s chest. Looking up at the Beastman, Mirai saw that his eyes were closed. He wasn’t looking at him, but Mirai knew that he acknowledged him with the way his ears twitched. He knew Leona knew he was looking at him.

“S-Sorry,” Mirai whispered.

“Nothing to apologize about,” Leona muttered. “But if you wanna make it up to me, you can by closing your eyes and getting some sleep.”

“Alright, alright,” Mirai sighed, but didn’t move to go to sleep.

“Whaddya thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“You. Did you have fun?”

Leona sighed, opening his eyes to look down at the Prefect, “Yeah, I had fun.”

“Are you happy?”

“Whaddya on about?”

“It-It’s just, I know you really don’t like celebrating your Birthday,” Mirai whispered, playing with the collar of Leona’s shirt, “but I wanted to do something to make you happy, even if it’s for a little bit. You guys made me happy on my Birthday, so I wanted to share that happiness with you.”

“You did,” Leona muttered, rubbing his cheek against Mirai’s.

“Was it enough-"

They both froze upon hearing movement from someone. Leona and Mirai waited until the shuffling and mumbling stopped, and only when it did did the two let go of the breath they seemed to be holding.

"Was it enough to make tonight just a little better?” Mirai whispered.

“Since you’ll be going with me, it shouldn't be too bad,” Leona smirked, “We can make fun of the snobby delegates and nobility, get drunk off of the champagne, and once the cake is cut, we can ditch the garish affair for a night to ourselves.”

Mirai chuckled, pressing his face into Leona’s chest to muffle his laughter. Leona yawned, his mouth wide, the noise deep in his throat and Mirai yawned shortly after him, seeming to catch the yawn bug. Getting closer, Mirai pulled his blanket around himself, tangling his and Leona’s bodies together, and Leona sighed contently, a quiet chuffing noise escaping his throat as he pulled the Prefect closer until his form engulfed Mirai’s smaller one.

“Night Leona,” Mirai yawned. “And Happy Birthday.”

“Good night, Herbivore,” Leona whispered, “And thanks.”

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blues824 · 1 year

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I have seen the lack of trey clover request and I shall request some.

🍀Imagen him baking something and being to focused on the baking and mc just want some love and they just pull on his suspenders and take away his hat giving him a kiss and running away.

Or if you write this for the female zenitsu

🍀Her running to trey pulling him by his suspenders crying she is going to die and want him to marry her to let her live with him (what happend she saw a spider ace killed it and the cursed thing gave birth to 1000 mini spiders )rip ramshackle 💀

For those who don’t know, this is a reference to this post of mine. Also, I’m a huge Trey simp.

Trey Clover

You were just relaxing at Ramshackle, finishing up some assignments for the day when you received a text from your boyfriend. You, being you, immediately smiled and read it. It read as follows: I need some assistance with a particular treat. Would you like to come over and help me, my love?

Now, you were not one to pass up an opportunity such as this, so you told Grim that you would be leaving and that you left a can of tuna for him. You all but ran to Heartslabyul, and anyone who got in your way was promptly kicked, shoved, or punched out of the way. Poor Epel, he was just standing there and listening to a fellow classmate. Now he has a black eye and a personal vendetta against you.

Once you got there, you were let in by your beloved, and you clung to his arm immediately. The baker was used to you doing this, and even grew to like how openly affectionate you are. So, when he greeted you at the door, he held his arm out for you to wrap yours around it. He then led you to the kitchen, where the ingredients were waiting for the two of you.

The truth was, he didn’t actually need your help. He just knows that he hasn’t been able to spend too much time with you and he feels guilty about it. So, this is his solution. You would sit on the counter as he mixes the ingredients together, and you would tell him about your world and what you missed about it. This allowed him to know you and your background better.

When the treat was in the oven, and before you went to go greet the other dorm members, you quickly pulled Trey by the suspenders into a kiss. This surprised him, but he wasn’t opposed and quickly wrapped his arms around your torso to pull you closer and reciprocate the affection. However, it was all a ploy to really steal his hat and run.

For once in your life, your demon slayer abilities allowed you to make a quick escape with the fedora. Your boyfriend could not even try to get you back, so he just waited for your inevitable return to him. However, what he did not expect was for the oven to be done before you had come back with his hat.

Then, he received a text from you saying: Sorry, baby! Ace, Deuce, and I had to go get Grim for the Unbirthday Party! I’ll be back!!! He shrugged his shoulders and went to take the cake out of the oven. As he was waiting for it to cool before decorating, he heard someone screaming his name from outside. He rushed out only to be nearly tackled to the ground by you.

“TREY THERE WAS A SPIDER AT RAMSHACKLE. ACE SQUISHED IT AND IT HAD A MILLION BABIES!!!” You exclaimed as you jumped into his arms. He turned and looked to see Deuce a bit shaken up and Ace grabbing all of the bug spray that the dorm had before making his way back to your dorm.

Said baker put you down and wiped your tears before placing a kiss on your forehead, chuckling a bit at this silly situation. However, you noticed that he wasn’t taking this seriously and pulled him by the suspenders once again. Then, you exclaimed how you were going to die and that Ramshackle was unfit for habitation and you asked if you could stay at Heartslabyul with him.

As much as the idea sounds lovely (cuddling with you at night, being the last thing the other sees before they fall asleep and the first thing the other sees when they wake up, etc.), he knows that it is against the rules. But, you did stay the night for the week once Trey explained the situation to Riddle. The latter was a bit hesitant, but he realized that you have helped him out in his moment of need, so it only makes sense that he does the same.

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst #trey #trey clover x reader #twst trey clover #trey x reader #trey clover #twst trey #twst trey clover x reader #twst trey x reader

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8bitsupervillain · 3 months

Text

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 2 Watanagashi pt. Final

Guess this is all tied up in a neat little package.

Ah man, so much for everything being tied up nice and neat.

I miss the simple days of when murder victims, and the dead killers stayed dead. It's like a bad horror series where they have to contrive reasons for why and how Michael Myers survived being locked in a burning building with no avenue for escape. "He survived because he hid where the guns are hidden." Bullshit, I don't think hiding in an impromptu oven will stop you from being cooked to death. Maybe the dead Mion and dead Takano are also friends with the writer and convinced him to spare their lives for a smidge.

There's a quote from an old crime writer named Mickey Spillane. "Nobody reads a mystery to get to the middle. They read it to get to the end. If it's a letdown, they won't buy any more. The first page sells that book. The last page sells your next book." You might think this is a jab at Ryukishi07, but I like to think that he's heard this quote and has ingrained it in his soul. Come to think of it I'm pretty sure a lot of writers use this trick, even if they don't like to admit it. The mystery of how people who were apparently dead days before their corpses were found is an intriguing mystery. Now, of course this isn't the end of the chapter, but it's close enough.

It is a pretty good joke, shame Mion didn't see the comedy in it. Also it's tragic that the two were attacked and lost their faces. So how much of this was actually real do you think? I'm going to guess everything after the stabbing is all in Keiichi's mind and he did die of his stab wound. You don't twist the knife if you don't mean to make sure your victim is absolutely dead. I'm not a huge fan of the "everything was just the main character's dying dream" trope because I generally feel that's just people interacting with the book/game/VN/whatever at the absolute laziest possible level.

But this can't be real, up until this point ghosts haven't existed in the narrative at all. Not even as a one-off casual mention. I suppose you could argue that spirits exist because of the notion the god Oyashiro exists, and demons, but that could just as easily be counter-argued with the explanation these are just fairy tales.

I have a backup theory. My main bet is everything post stabbing is entirely in Keiichi's head, and he died from the wound. But the alternate theory I have is that everything up until Ooishi left happened, and that's when Keiichi died. His wounded body couldn't handle the mental strain of being told Mion, Shion, and everyone else had died, and as such it simply gave up. Which is extremely bad luck for Ooishi, that the last witness of the entire Sonozaki/Watanagashi Incident died shortly after he saw him. Which I guess would kind of make Ooishi the grim reaper.

I enjoyed it a lot better than Onikakushi. It was much more intriguing of a read.

Rika, just vibrating with fury.

Sorry Satoko, I'm pretty sure everyone's gonna be put through the wringer before all's said and done.

Ah, they have fun.

No.

Anyway, I do have a question, please feel free to answer it, but be mindful not to spoil please. Should I bother reading these All Cast Review Sessions? Do they actually contribute to the overall narrative? Or is it just a decompressing lighthearted discussion about the chapter? Would I lose anything if I just jumped directly from the end of say Chapter 3: Tatarigoroshi and went in immediately to Chapter 4: Himatsubushi? Basically, I'm wondering if these Review Sessions are like the Tea Party segments from Umineko, and will add large amounts of plot details to the overall narrative.

I ask this like it'll make a difference, I know myself well enough that I'm just going to read them regardless. Still, I'm curious.

#higurashi #higurashi when they cry #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi playthrough

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chaoxfix · 8 months

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I've seen the end of Prime. I didn't think it was super bad, but I absolutely do think it's in the same boat as Forces after all is said and done. Complete with the goldmine for fix-it-fics.

I still stand by saying that Nine justified the show existing. I wish he wasn't left to be isolated in the Grim because that puts him right back to the status quo of his life. Isolated and hurt.

Above all else, it's obvious as hell the show needed more time in all directions. More time in the oven, and more runtime than a single 23 episode season. I have to wonder how the production of the show was behind the scenes, as well as if the Writer's and Actor's strikes had anything to do with how much this season stumbled.

under a cut because i dont really want to spread negativity about this show, i honest to god overall liked it. or, at least liked it enough that i dont feel comfortable participating in raking it over the coals. again, im not the target audience, but if i was, i would've absolutely *loved* it, no holds barred.

i do think the ending with nine was kind of a bummer, yeah. but ultimately i think the door is still open for other adventures with him reintegrating with other shatterspace inhabitants. i think nine and rusty rose could have a healthy friendship at some point. plus i think a lot of the other shatterspaces maintain the ability to travel which could have plenty of stories leading from it, not just with nine but with one another and sonic's main universe.

genuinely, my only complaints that feel legitimate are 1) sonic's personality, 2) the majorly extended fight scenes and overall pacing between scenes with the emotional depth i was watching for, and 3) "it's canon to the games"

everything else i didn't fully enjoy was purely because i am not the target audience. im not a fan of childish humor, i like more nuance with jokes and i dont think pointing out the obvious is all that funny, etc, etc. but this was written for kids, so that's just not a legitimate complaint imo. honestly even my #2 complaint doesn't feel all that legitimate, because the target audience probably doesn't really crave that same level of emotional complexity and might prefer the long flashy fight scenes -- why could explain why there are so many, and why they're so long.

but i think overall that anything that didn't stick the landing for me was #3, because of the producers saying that it's canon to the games timeline. because of that, the expectations were heightened by people like me, who care about things like timeline placements -- and we're generally older fans with a long history with the sonic franchise and laughably high expectations and a sense that the sonic franchise should just 'go back to when it was good' rhetoric... compare that to the actual target audience: kids. an 8-12 year old probably isn't going to care about timeline placements. if they would have just not mentioned games canon, a lot of older fans could've enjoyed this more because it would've been disconnected and not beholden to so many expectations. that's its biggest flaw, imo, and that's not a flaw of the series, only with its marketing.

...for my specific timeline concerns..... when i said everyone's clamoring for sonic to 'return back to when it was good' -- the advance series is actually what a HUGE amount of people consider to be the peak of sonic. and guess what sonic prime is meant to immediately follow? sonic advance 3. to be honest the only thing that throws me off is the idea that they all live in green hill, including knuckles. after sonic advance 3, angel island is where it usually is and knuckles is living there full time again, watching over the master emerald. that's my only real concern. i dont worry about people saying it doesn't make sense not to include blaze or silver, because again, this was meant to be set after sonic advance 3, which was released in 2004... before sonic rush came out in 2005 and introduced blaze, or sonic 06 came out and introduced silver. so i dont really care about them not being included, it makes sense for them not to be there, imo.

#prime spoilers

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anonymouspuzzler · 2 years

Text

you know what else I got big into recently? yugo limbo's BE KIND MY NEIGHBOR !!! y'all, if you're 18+ and are comfortable with the various Themes, please, please, I beg of you. buy this comic and check it out. I fully and genuinely think it's a masterpiece. it means so much to me in so many ways. truly, you will not regret reading this beautiful, wonderful, singularly unique comic. GET IT NOW

(detailed image descriptions under the cut!)

[Image 1: A colored illustration of Wegg standing in front of Mr. Neighbor, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a middle finger. Wegg is shouting "EXCUSE ME!!! He asked for no pickles!!!!!" Mr. Neighbor is staring down at him with a smile and a thought bubble showing the gay pride flag.]

[Image 2: A black and white drawing of Mr. Neighbor drawn from the chest up. He is wearing a turtleneck sweater and has his hair up in pigtails. He is winking and sticking out his tongue, looking to the left, stimming with his hands held up in front of his chest. There are little sparkles around his face because he's just that cute and handsome.]

[Image 3: A black and white drawing of Wegg from the waist up. He has a little cat smile and his tongue sticking up, one eyebrow raised. A thought balloon next to him reads, in bold handwritten text, "MEN'S TITS".]

[Image 4: A single-panel black-and-white comic. Mr. Neighbor, drawn from the chest up, is holding up his hands, on which there are novelty oven mitts that look like lobster claws. He is smiling widely and saying "Wegg, look! These oven mitts look like lobster claws, mm!" Wegg, seen from behind in front of him, is thinking, "I'm going to do unspeakable things to this man", with little hearts flying around the thought bubble.]

[Image 5: A black-and-white three-panel comic of Wegg and Mr. Neighbor. In the first panel, they are walking with their arms around each other, Wegg on the left and Mr. Neighbor on the right. Wegg, smiling smugly, says, "Y'know, like 'nya'". Neighbor, smiling back down at him, replies, "...what?" The next panel cuts in close on Wegg, smirking with a little kitty grin and holding up a hand like a cat paw, saying, "'nya'", with a drawing of kitty ears above his head to further emphasize. The final panel cuts back to Mr. Neighbor, with a wide-eyed, confused smile and multiple question marks around his head, responding, "I. Still don't understand. (help???)"]

[Image 6: A black-and-white drawing of Mr. Neighbor, wearing an apron and holding a freshly-baked pie with autumn leave decorations on top, smiling with a grim expression in his eyes, saying, "I have got to bake festive pies or I'm going to (in cursive) Die". On the table in front of him are several plates of cookies, muffins, other pies, a cake with gravestone and ghost decorations, and an Entire Pumpkin. In the background, Wegg is casually tossing an entire pie into his mouth.]

[Image 7: A black and white drawing of Mr. Neighbor and Wegg dressed as, respectively, Morticia and Gomez Addams. Wegg, tilting his head and winking, is holding a lit cigar in his right hand while bringing Neighbor's hand up to kiss with his left. Neighbor has brought his right hand up to his face and is visibly swooning. There are two heart symbols drawn between the two of them.]

[Image 8: A black and white "reaction shot" to the previous Halloween costume drawing. Tillman, drawn from the shoulders up, is looking over anxiously as if desperately trying not to realize something about himself, thinking, "I want to be both of them simultaneously??" Behind him, Glenn is staring with a visible blush, thinking (text bolded and motion-blurred) "BOOBA"]

[Image 9: A black and white, three-panel comic. In the first panel, Puzz's sona, seen from behind, is reaching up towards something on the top shelf in a grocery store of some kind, visibly shaking and sweating as she struggles to reach. Mr. Neighbor walks up from the right, smiling and saying, "Oh! I can help you!" In the second, he is smiling and holding out a generically-labeled "BOX!", saying, "Here you go, ma'am". In the third, Puzz, looking Utterly Miserable, stares up at an obliviously smiling Mr. Neighbor; an arrow pointing to Puzz says "28" while one pointing to Neighbor says "26".]

[Image 10: A black and white drawing of Puzz's sona, standing neutrally and staring up with a mildly curious expression, next to Wegg, looking incredibly smug and standing with one hand on his hip. An arrow pointing to Puzz notes " 4'11" ", while one pointing to Wegg notes " 5'0" & about to be fucking insufferable about it".]

#anonymous puzzler art #be kind my neighbor #mr neighbor #wegg #im not associated with the comic or company in any form btw i have to emphasize that #i just genuinely love it and think it's a brilliant work and thus will shill every chance i get #please. do yourself a favor. read it if you're able #if i were more financially stable i would genuinely offer to buy it for folks LMAO #also that last wegg drawing is a Tumblr Exclusive LOL i posted it just to twitter circle previously due to shyness

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waiting-on-a-dream · 1 year

Text

Prisoner 010: Okura Mayumi - Trial 2

General info

Verdict: GUILTY

Physical changes: Mayumi's hair is often tied into a braid now, laid over her shoulder. Unlike the rest of the guilty prisoners, her face isn't pale and she hasn't developed any eyebags. Its likely that she hasn't been plagued by nightmares. Her longer restraints are the only aspect of her uniform that has changed.

Behavioral changes: She's become more reserved and quiet, mostly only talking to Haku as he practices playing the piano. She spends most of her time in her room nowadays, only leaving to ask other prisoners specific questions, as if interrogating them. She just wants to learn the truth about this time.

After talking for a while with Suzume, she now seems to harbor some ill feelings towards her. The air is tense whenever they're in a room together. They always seem to be one wrong move away from snapping at each other. The other prisoners have tried to ask about it, but they refuse to answer. They've been left to sort it out for now.

Trailer art: Mayumi faces you directly, preparing a syringe of medicine with a grim and determined expression. Behind her, two hospital doors with tiny bloody handprints on the frosted window, as if made by children. Blood pools from the gap beneath the doors.

Voicelines

– Second trial trailer

People like you...shouldn't have the right to live.

– Character voice trailer

Its okay. He can't hurt you anymore.

Cover info

Canon Milgram song cover: Purge march (The song ended up being more about Amane defending herself, but I think the guilty part still works for Mayumi.)

DECO*27 song cover: Poison apple (The lyrics and MV gave off her vibes, so I assigned this song to her. Simple as that.)

Non-DECO*27 vocaloid song cover: The world's filth (The lyrics are peak Mayumicore. The music? Not so much. BUT THE LYRICS!)

Music info

Song title: Ecosystem

Song preview: We have no use for you if you can't contribute anything. Everyone has a duty to society. What's your role? To die quietly. GUILTY. GUILTY. GUILTY.

At some point in our lives, we have to ask ourselves. "Am I the kind of person that stands by and does nothing?" So, what's the answer? Prayers do nothing for anyone. Act upon your greatest convictions!

MV description: Half of her MV is filled with slightly faded pastel colours like her first MV. Starting from the scene when she's in her room, most of the frames are dark and foreboding. The last scene is back to being pastel, but the colours are brighter.

The MV starts with a young Mayumi walking through what looks like a career fair. A baker hands out free samples to an an eager batch of children before directing their attention to the cookies baking a nearby oven. A man dressed as a firefighter helps a young boy to am a hose at the "fire" of a fake building. Mayumi looks around with interest, stopping in her tracks when something catches her eye. A group of girls watching intently as a nurse demonstrates bandaging a man's forearm. Intrigued, she heads over.

A montage of Mayumi sitting in class as her teacher points to a food web drawn on a board. A well-dressed man giving a presentation in a meeting. An architect drawing out the blue prints for a building. A taxi driver picking up a couple from the airport. Mayumi peers at a display of fossils from behind a case of glass. Her brother pops up beside her, dragging his plastic dinosaur toy across the glass. She quickly pulls him away.

The camera cuts to present Mayumi searching up information on her victim. His mugshot pops up, along with a list of his victims. She searches their names one by one. Mio. Nozomi. Kagome. Missing posters turn up for all of them.

The audio of a dialing ringtone mixes with the song. Mayumi raises her phone to her ear, presumably calling someone. An elderly woman answers, her face blurred out. Mayumi twirls a bottle of medicine in her hand as she talks. The woman starts to cry, screaming something into the phone. Mayumi waits for a moment before hanging up. The camera zooms out as she continues to sit by her computer desk in the dark room.

A group of girls gathered around another girl, crumpled to the ground while holding a hand to her bruised face. Men gambling at a casino. A drunkard stumbling out of a bar. A news reported talking about a murder that occurred last night, showing CCTV footage of someone getting stabbed outside an office building. Mayumi's victim on his bed. His heart beat slowing to a stop. The ECG flatlines.

The camera cuts to Mayumi sitting by the defendant's table in the courtroom. The judge is her as well, along with the jury. Everyone in the court room is her actually. Judge Mayumi asks the jury to declare their verdict. Jury Mayumi stands up to read from the slip of paper in her hand. She opens her mouth and the screen goes black before their verdict can be revealed. End.

Author's notes

The second picrew didn't have a pencil skirt option, so I have Mayumi white pants instead. She still wears the same uniform as she did in trial 1 though, picrews just don't always work out.

Picrews used: - https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/1458900 - https://picrew.me/image_maker/1820833

#I don't like how her second picture looks like Makima #milgram #milgram oc #ocgram #prisoner 010: okura mayumi

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yuus-sentient-teddy · 2 years

Text

"Yuu-Yuu hurt." Part 5

Part 1 | Part 4 | Part 6

"No way. . ."

The students keep hidden behind the trees. Yellow lights from multiple windows cut through the darkness as a building stands in the clearing like a beacon for lost sailors.

"It almost looks like a warehouse."

"So, Yuu's in there?"

The teddy bear nods.

"Multiple people are gathered in one room, behind those double doors. I don't detect any other presences in the rest of the building," Ortho reports.

"What are they doing?"

"They're. . . standing still."

"Before we go any further, shouldn't we notify the police first?" Trey suggests. "We're not knowledgeable in saving kidnapped people."

"They're not going to be much help," Floyd says. "The building wasn't here the entire time they searched. It's probably going to be the same by the time they come."

"How many people are in there?" Leona asks.

"Thirty," Orthos says.

Eyes widen, surprised. "Thirty?"

"Hang on, that's more than the people that went missing on the island!" Grim says.

"The rest of the numbers may be from the mainland. I recall their newspapers talking about their own disappearances weeks before ours happened," Azul says. "Still, whose to say some of the people inside aren't the kidnappers and the rest of the orphans are elsewhere?"

"Before we get ahead of ourselves, we need to figure out how to get inside without being caught," Cater says.

"Wait, is it just me, or are the lights from the building getting brighter?" Deuce had been squinting, but now he was shutting and shielding his eyes. Something buzzed in the air that caused the small hairs on his skin to rise, like wading through TV static, and a bitter smell began concentrating and leaving a light unpleasant taste on his tongue. It wasn't electrical--he would know from the time his mom used a convection oven with a faulty circuit. This was new, yet he felt dread.

Loud bangs pierced the air alongside the sound of glass being smashed. When Deuce opened his eyes, the moon was the only source of light; it made the broken pieces of the windows shimmer. The space where the double doors had been gaped ominously like the mouth of a haunted cave.

"Yuu-Yuu!" cries the teddy bear. Multiple voices hurriedly shush it and eyes scan the area for movement.

"I don't see any fires and I didn't hear anyone scream. They and the other people in the room might be all right," Kalim says.

"They are. It's strange, though." Ortho tilts his head. "They haven't moved from their spot."

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

Ortho confirms that there is no machinery operating and Malleus and Lilia could not detect any spells being casted. It is decided that a small group would enter the room, phones on speaker and called to someone waiting outside.

Grim was getting deja vu as he followed Vil into the darkness, flanked by Deuce and Ace. It was almost like the time the three of them and Yuu had to find a magestone in the Dwarf Mines so they wouldn't get kicked out of NRC. He expected something to jump out and eat them--or stick a pickaxe through them.

Floating by Vil's side was Idia's tablet, which had its light on. As the group neared the center of the room, it illuminated multiple standing figures, all frozen and silent like mannequins. Grim's hairs raised, unnerved by the unsettling scene before him; he jolted when Vil quietly cautioned everyone. "What do you guys see?" Trey's voice came through Rook's phone. After being told, there were multiple shudders and comments on how creepy it all was.

"They're just like the doctors from Quiet Mountain," Idia mutters. "Any moment now one of you guys will trigger them to move and the cut scene will end with a jumpscare--"

"Nii-san, calm down!" Ortho says through Ace's phone.

"You're not helping!" Ace hisses to Idia's tablet.

"There are so many people. How are we going to find Yuu?" Deuce wonders. The teddy bear was left outside for safety despite it pleading to go with the group. "Ah! Grim, do you think you can sniff them out?"

"ME?!" Grim was quickly shushed. "Why me? I'm not going in front and getting jumped by one of these creeps!"

"You have a nose that's stronger than ours and you spend the most time with them. You're our best bet."

"You wouldn't be alone. I'll walk beside you," Rook says. "I've hunted in dimly-lit forests a number of times. I can help you spot Trickster."

"Of course he would have that skill," someone sighs from the phone.

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If it weren't for the steady breathing, Rook would have been convinced that he was in a wax museum of ordinary people. There were those dressed in work uniforms and casual clothes, but most were in pajamas. The tablet's LED light casted everything in a ghostly light, but Rook looked past it and read the body posture and facial expressions.

Everyone was standing perfectly straight with their hands by their side; there was no room for individual uniqueness to shine through. He pauses before someone, peering deeply into a pair of hazel eyes. Pupils expanded and gaze vacant. How depressing it must be to lose one's character--rather, to have one's character be taken away, leaving them as an empty shell.

"Rook." Vil was next to him. "I thought as a proclaimed hunter you would be more aware of your surroundings."

"My apologies, Roi du Poison." He shares his observations as the group continue maneuvering around the still people.

"I'm so glad I'm not in there," someone on the phone said after he was done.

"Over there!" Grim suddenly runs ahead, much to the dismay of the others, and stops in front of a familiar person.

Yuu was exactly like the surrounding people, and their pupils didn't dilate when Idia's tablet light shined over them. As Vil speaks into his phone, Grim hops onto Ace's shoulder and quietly calls Yuu's name. Yuu doesn't respond.

"Damn it. Whoever is behind this is going to pay," Deuce says, catching his fist in his hand.

"I don't get it, though. Why these people? They don't have any magic and I doubt they're all beast tamers like Yuu," Ace says, looking around.

"Until the culprit is caught, we can only speculate what heinous plans they have concocted," Rook says. His eyes narrow and a familiar smile stretches his lips. "If I were given the opportunity to chase after them, I would accept it with no hesitation."

As he spoke, Grim floated closer to Yuu and shook their shoulder. They didn't move. "Yuu..."

Deuce puts a hand on Grim's head, getting his attention. "Hey, they're going to be fine once we get them out.

"AHHH--NOOOOO!" Suddenly, Idia's tablet flies past their heads and smacks into Yuu, causing them to stumble back.

"Hey! What was that for?!"

"If I didn't, you would've been surprise attacked by a knife!"

"What?!" Yuu rubs their cheek with one hand. In the other is a long knife, its clean blade reflecting the light. Slowly, Yuu raises their head and a chill runs up Deuce and Grim's spine at the vacant eyes. Even Idia, in the safety of his room, shudders.

Around the small group, the still people begin to stir.

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Did he say 'knife'?! Was it too much to ask for a peaceful school life?

Riddle's Overblot was heart attack-inducing; making sure nothing too terrible happened on an impromptu rescue mission and hearing there were armed people attacking his juniors and classmates were on the verge of doing same thing. Trey hoped that the night would end without anyone going to the ER.

"Vil! Rook! What's happening?" Epel cries into his phone. The building's lights had suddenly turned on but then began flickering erratically as though children were taking turns playing with the light switch. Before that, the teddy bear cried out Yuu's name and tried running into the building, but was grabbed by Jack before it could step past the tree line. The giant double doors were too far to the side for the rest of the students to see what was happening in the room's center.

"The people in the room are attacking us!"

From Floyd and Riddle's phones, Ace and Deuce's voices rang out, punctured by Grim's.

"Have they always been this fast?"

"Henchman, snap out of it!"

"Damn it! No matter how hard I punch, these guys just keep getting up."

"Augh, I can't aim with the lights flickering! Can someone fix it already?"

"I knew I should have gone with them. I'm going inside," Riddle says.

"If little goldfishie is going, then I'm going too. It's been boring waiting around." Floyd hands Jade his phone, a wide grin on his face and eyes excited for violence. A discussion begins over who goes in and who stays behind for backup. Meanwhile, Jade speaks into the phone.

"Ace, can you tell me what any of the victims' eyes look like?"

"Huh? They--whoa! They still look like they're dead!"

Jade notices a few peers gazing at the phone, then meets Azul's eyes, and the both of them knew they had the same thoughts.

#this is the part where it becomes a horror survival game #and yuu tries to stab their friends #yuu's sentient teddy bear #grim (twisted wonderland)#ace trappola #deuce spade #rook hunt #ortho shroud #idia shroud #trey clover #yuu/mc (twisted wonderland)#🧸🖊writing

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