#i hope this fic is still like. interesting. idk if i think about what ive written so far its like...really all just blond guy whump

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 24

why did this chapter kick my ass?? damn!!!

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

soz for the unexpected delay i was moving + starting a new job + lost my grip on byakuya's slippery psyche

playing with my own headcanons for hiro and his backstory actually. bc. well. the original just is not very good at all now is it

tyyy @digitaldollsworld as always!!

Content warning tags: blood, mention of razor (not in intentional self-harm context), minor injury, nausea, panic attack, toxic obsessive stalker Toko, insecurity, mentions of self-starving

< previous - from start - next >

Byakuya drops his straight razor, and it splashes into the basin of his sink. Followed by a few droplets, hot and ruby-bright as it tracks down his jaw, vanishing almost instantly upon contact with the water.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, frozen, one hand still half-raised to his face, still curved in that loose grip. Then he braces his hands against the porcelain edge, knuckles tensing as he tries to keep them from shaking. The cut on his jaw stings, still slowly welling blood; his razor, silver and distorted, warbles in and out of sight with the water’s ripples, his eyes struggling to track its shape. He makes no move to fish it out of the water.

This was his second attempt at shaving. The evidence of his first attempt still throbs on the opposite cheek, near his ear. Despite moving glacially slow, other hand pulling the skin as taut and still as he could manage, the hard edge of the sink digging into his hip as he leaned as close to the mirror as he could, it was still proving to be a fruitless effort. The elegant blade that his mother’s family had gifted him, that he had been using since he became heir, was now simply too large and awkward for him to use. A task that should have been easy after all of Pennyworth’s guidance was now fraught with pointless danger.

…Maybe it’s not worth the trouble, he thinks, numbly. But the hollow, shattered defeatism that comes with the thought is so unfamiliar that it makes him grit his teeth, and then reach slowly into the tepid water to pull the razor out. His stubble was patchy already, especially near his jawline, and any more delay would almost certainly warrant someone commenting on it - maybe Hagakure, who couldn’t seem to keep anything to himself, or Celeste, who would delight in pointing it out while masking it as polite concern - but, at the rate he was going, he was going to draw more attention with a bloodied face.

His fingers scrape the basin, searching at a glacial pace until the edge of his thumbnail taps against the handle. He draws it out gingerly, shakes off the stray droplets, then wipes the blade with a silk cloth. Drying it carefully, meticulously - as Pennyworth had taught him, ‘it’s as good as useless if it rusts’ - before folding it and replacing it in the cupboard behind his mirror. He dries his face with the towel hanging around his neck, ignoring the way the Turkish cotton scraped against raw skin.

I could always just try again later, he reasoned with himself. Not so much as a surrender as it was a tactical retreat; and the results were bound to be better when he was calmer, more composed. He could still do it - he just needed some time.

And as for anyone who might notice it…

…Well. It wasn’t like he was spending much time around anyone else these days anyways.

—

Even if he wasn’t trying to seek out anyone else’s company, he couldn’t help but take note of their own routines, how they settled into their lives after feeling the world shake around them. 

It doesn’t surprise him that Celeste and Yamada have continued on as if nothing had happened at all. Celeste still maintains her airy simulacrum of a mysterious princess, occasionally inviting Byakuya to tea or dinner or a game of Othello, which he declines each time. Yamada, when he wasn’t offering himself up to be bullied and ordered around by her, would be in the newly-opened art room, and Byakuya could occasionally pass by to hear sounds of shuffling paper and the scrape of pens, and the harrowed, heavy breathing of a man possessed.

Ogami and Asahina are similar, returning to their athletic routine, though clearly more affected by the deaths of their classmates. They were attached at the hip before, but now Byakuya never saw one without the other, always in each other’s company, often holding hands - if Ishimaru were here, he might have decried it, ‘No PDA in the hallways!’ in that annoyingly shrill, school-bell voice - once, Byakuya had even overheard the two of them occupying the bathhouse together, when he had passed by with the intention of checking on Alter Ego’s laptop.

(He’d left quickly when he realized what they were doing, leaving the locker unchecked, his face hot and uncomfortable. It was all well and fine for them to cope how they pleased, but couldn’t they have some more decorum about occupying a public space? He was almost beginning to miss Ishimaru.)

…Speaking of Ishimaru. Even Mondo had found something to occupy his time with, these days.

It seemed that after that night with Alter Ego, something had shaken loose inside him, and he was an entirely new person. In some ways, he was even more troublesome than when he was depressed and languishing; loud, piercing, and always appearing when he was least expected, or at least it felt that way to Byakuya. Somehow materializing nearby, demanding to know what you were doing, why you weren’t adhering to some vague, obscure rule that he might’ve made up on the spot. An overgrown hall monitor that acted like every little infraction could mean life or death.

(It was all in the name of protecting the AI, but it was also getting on everyone’s nerves, and it almost made Byakuya regret ever involving himself in the biker’s business in the first place.)

Makoto and Kirigiri were doing whatever it was they were doing. Byakuya rarely saw them, and when he did, he never made any attempt to speak to either of them. It didn’t make much of a difference from his previous dynamic with Kirigiri, but with Makoto, it was almost like a repeat of what had happened just after the first trial. But this time, Makoto never made any attempt to approach him.

Which was perfectly fine by him. Regardless of Makoto’s intentions, his betrayal was unforgivable. There was no reason to associate with him any longer.

And lastly, there was Hagakure.

It’s not clear if the self-proclaimed clairvoyant had given up on Mondo, given the overnight change in personality (at the very least, there was no more need for a suicide watch anytime soon), but he seems to have latched on to Byakuya, for no clear reason. Frequently calling out to him whenever they crossed paths, dogging in his steps like a very determined stray. Chattering incessantly, even when Byakuya refused to deign any of his ridiculous stories with a response, often trying to herd him into the cafeteria so they could “lunch together, bond, maybe share a cup of joe? Even rich guys like joe, right?”

“...Did you mean ‘coffee’,” Byakuya replies in a flat, deadpan tone that was more resigned than irritated, during what must be the dozenth time that Hagakure had intercepted him, and maybe the third time he conceded to the other man’s insistence; if only because Hagakure had been particularly persistent recently, and would probably end up following him and broadcasting to Fukawa or Monokuma or anyone else exactly where Byakuya was seeking refuge, when not in his room.

(Not to mention that he was a little hungry himself, though he could only imagine the kind of common swill someone like Hagakure might consider coffee.)

“Hey man, to-MAY-toes, po-TAY-toes, right?” Hagakure just shrugs, and half-guides, half-pushes Byakuya by the shoulders into the cafeteria.

It’s midday. The place is empty, with even Celeste missing from her favored spot at her table. Hagakure shuffles him into the kitchen, tells him to wash his hands, and then-

-shoves two things at him. One, round, pale brown and still damp, with a slight papery texture beneath the moisture. The other, a piece of smooth, green plastic shaped like a ‘T’, with something silvery running parallel to the top. He skates his thumb lightly over it, and finds the edge of it sharp; a tiny blade.

“Whoa, careful! Don’t hurt yourself!” Hagakure tugs the tool back out of his hand, inspecting his fingers. “Like, come on. I even gave you the vegetable peeler, this is easy mode.”

“...What?”

Hagakure doesn’t explain right away, instead occupied with rolling up his sleeves, tying the brambled mass of his hair back with a strip of white. Arranged on the kitchen counter is a selection of tools, a colorful assortment of vegetables, and a hunk of something dark and pink, occupying the cutting board. There’s already a pot on the stove, and Byakuya watches Hagakure’s hand fiddle with some dark, invisible button across the top of the oven, and a telltale blue flame clicks to life. “We’re making gumbo! And you’re my assistant for the day.” He announces, with the same cadence of a cooking show host. He’s beaming, as if he hadn’t just said something utterly, completely insane.

“...What.”

It’s hard to make out, but he swears Hagakure rolls his eyes at him. Which would be infuriating enough to comment on, if he wasn’t also holding out the aforementioned vegetable peeler out, handle first, towards him. “Gumbo. It’s kinda like, curry I guess? But it’s a lot more soupy.” Apparently not put off by Byakuya’s unresponsiveness, he pushes the peeler into his slack hand. “I mean, I guess I’m not surprised you haven’t tried it. It’s not Japanese, or like…fancy, rich guy food.”

That snaps him out of it. “What,” He repeats, emphatically, with feeling. “Do you think you’re doing?”

“Um, like I said, making gumbo-”

“No, I mean-” Byakuya waves the objects in his hands, and feels only a little ridiculous in doing so. “I’m not- using these.”

Hagakure winces at that. “...No offense, Toga, but, uh…” He hesitates. “It’s…not exactly a good idea to give you a knife right now, you feel me?”

Byakuya can imagine his eyes tracing down his face, to the still-pink line on his jaw from this morning, and feels his face grow even warmer, with nothing to do with the open-flame stove not a meter away from him. “That. Is. Not. The. Point.” He hisses, emphasizing each word. “And - don’t call me that - you said we were here to get coffee.”

He spits these words like they’re poisonous, and Hagakure is still for a moment. He thinks that he’s managed to get his point across, but:

“Aww, Togster…you really did wanna get coffee with me?” Hagakure sounds genuinely touched, one hand pressed to his chest. Byakuya was about two seconds from throwing the stupid root vegetable in his hand against Hagakure’s equally stupid head. “We can have coffee after we make food. Besides, aren’t you sick of the meals we’ve been doing recently? Like I’m not a picky guy, but ramen and bread every day for the past few days is getting kinda…bleh, y’know?”

The worst part of this was that Byakuya agreed with him on that front. Even with his newfound habit of only eating when there was no one else around, or when Alter Ego threatened to stop reading for him until he took a meal, the selection was paltry to begin with and had only grown more unappealing with time.

“Your job is easy,” Hagakure continues, and grabs something hanging off the handle of a nearby oven, and drops it over his face, obscuring his vision for a moment. He jerks backwards in alarm as it settles to hang around his neck, only to realize that it’s an apron - a pale, mint-green thing that’s one size too small, with some still-visible stains splattered across it, and Hagakure had somehow gotten behind him and tied the thing in place already  - “You just gotta peel the potatoes, and I just gotta cut everything up. The roux’s already done, so all we gotta do is dump the ingredients in and let it do its thing.”

Byakuya is still reeling a little from being forced (though, there wasn’t much he could’ve done in protest, with both his hands occupied) into an apron. The things in his hands are so unfamiliar to him that they may as well be OOPart pieces in the making.

Besides him, Hagakure was whistling away, chopping meat with the silver blur of a large kitchen knife. Completely oblivious to anything around him; and Byakuya realized, he could leave right now if he wanted, and it wasn’t like the fortune-teller, of all people, could stop him.

He’s about to do just that when the other man looks up, knife stilling. “Something wrong?” He asks, with a tilt of his head. And before Byakuya could explain that, yes, there was something very wrong with this entire situation: “D’you need help?”

“No.” He says automatically, and immediately kicks himself for it.

“Oh, then-?”

“I don’t-” Byakuya says at the same time, and frowns sharply at the interruption. “I. Don’t do this sort of…thing.” It comes out a lot less assertive than he would like, and sounds a lot more pathetic than he means it to be.

“Oh. Well, yeah, I figured.” Hagakure shrugs, as he scoops up the mess of pink on the cutting board with the edge of his knife and drops it into a metal bowl. It lands with a loud, wet slap, and the bowl rings as it shakes against the counter. “No time to learn like the present though, right?”

Byakuya feels his eye twitch. In some ways, talking to Hagakure was more frustrating than negotiating with most white-collar businessmen, and more akin to arguing against a very enthusiastic wall. “I’m not supposed to do this kind of thing,” He tries again. “I’ve never had to prepare my own food in my life.”

It echoes what he told Makoto, that night he dragged Byakuya to the kitchen to prepare him a meal. But this time, it feels much less like a boast, and more like an admission. Like he couldn’t even do this much.

If Hagakure noticed the grimace passing over his face, he made no comment. Instead, he plucks the items out of Byakuya’s hands. “No time to learn like the present, my man.” He twirls the peeler between his fingers, and it spins, a foggy green circle. “It’s like a pattern, you pull the peeler down, turn it again, and repeat.” He demonstrates, hands moving quickly, with practiced ease. “Don’t worry if you miss anything. We don’t need it to be super clean, we just need most of the skin off.”

And he offers the peeler back to Byakuya, a gleam of white teeth on his face. Deceptively kind, poisonously pleasant. “Think you can handle that?”

Byakuya shoves his hand away, his patience thinning to a thread. “Take the hint,” He snaps, reaching behind himself to try and undo the knot. “I’m not doing this.”

“What? But it’s easy!”

“I don’t care,” He yanks at the ties, feels them come no closer to being loosened, and feels his face reddening with frustration, humiliation. He needs to leave, now. “I’m leaving.”

“Aw, Toga, come on-”

Byakuya reaches for the knife, left abandoned on the cutting board, and there’s a clatter as Hagakure backs himself against the ovens. “O-okay, okay, sure! Sure, jesus, okay!”

Byakuya rolls his eyes at the overreaction, already tuning him out, then starts awkwardly maneuvering the knife to try and cut the apron off. Arms twisting awkwardly to catch the bladed edge against the side of the knot. It’s not easy - he could swear, the blade seemed sharp enough when Hagakure was using it to dice meat, but now it slides clumsily against the twisted cotton, dull as a stone -

“Jesus,” Hagakure says again, but less panicked now that it was clear his life was under no immediate threat. “Okay, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I am not-”

“You totally are, man. Just - don’t slash me, please, and hold still -”

Hagakure gives him a wide, cautious berth, as if still worried he would suddenly turn into some violent, knife-swinging killer, edging until he’s out of Byakuya’s peripheral and standing behind him. A slight tug around his midsection later, and the apron is flapping loosely against his stomach.

To show his thanks, Byakuya sets the knife down before he pulls off the apron, not so much as handing it over as simply dropping it in the other boy’s direction.

He makes to leave, but Hagakure stops him - or tries to, throwing one hand out while scrambling to catch the apron with the other - “Wait, wait,” He still sounds jovial, but there’s a thin edge of nervousness to it now, residual after the earlier scare. “Listen, you don’t hafta help if you don’t want to, but like…can you just hang out? Here?”

“...You want me to stay. In the kitchen.” Where it was overly warm with a pot of water building into a steady boil, heavy with the smell of various condiments and spices, and pervaded by a general stickiness on the tile. “Why?”

“U-um, well…”

Byakuya sighs. He’s wasted too much time already. The coffee he was promised earlier was looking like a lost cause, and frankly, he wasn’t interested in eating anything anymore either. It would feel too much like accepting undue pity, somehow.

Apparently sensing his impatience, Hagakure finally blurts out: “Because-! I’m, um, scared! To be alone! So…”

Byakuya only stares. Even with his hair tied back, the shape of Hagakure’s head is still a round, dark splotch, albeit smaller than usual. And it bobs up and down like a dandelion as he ducks his head, hands clasped in an exaggerated plea. “Please, man, I literally can’t ask anyone else,” He begs. “Mondo’s all psyched-out and freaky serious now, Hifumi and Celeste were weirdos to begin with, and I’m sick of third-wheeling for Hina-chi and Saka-chi! And there’s no way I’m hanging out with Toko!”

He doesn’t mention Makoto or Kirigiri. Which, Byakuya assumes, makes sense, so he doesn’t bother to ask about it. “How do I know you aren’t trying to kill me,” He says instead, deadpan. 

Hagakure snorts. “Have you seen me?” And then immediately winces. “I mean - shit, sorry - but seriously, I’m pissing my pants every time Monokuma shows up. And at every crime scene, and every trial. You really think I could get over myself to off someone?”

“None of Monokuma’s motives struck a chord with you?”

“Well - I’d be lying if the first one didn’t make me nervous,” He nods. “But I divined how my parents were doing a bunch of times, and they were always alright, so that didn’t worry me too much. And the thing about secrets; well, mine is that I’m actually on the run from this yakuza boss I accidentally pissed off. I owe him a debt of eight million yen.”

Byakuya is certain he doesn’t miss the way Hagakure glances at him then, based on the way his ponytail twitches as his head turns imperceptibly. He decides to ignore the obvious bait, and moves on: “Fine, then. Then what’s your reasoning that I won’t try to kill you?”

“Oh.” Hagakure pauses. “...I didn’t, uh…think about that.”

Right. Byakuya can’t find it in him to be surprised about that either, though some bruised-up part of his pride does rail against the implication that he wasn’t dangerous. Like being blind meant he was harmless, helpless, defanged - he struggles against the implication, but only sickens himself more with the truth of it.

“I mean…do you want to kill me?”

Byakuya snorts. “I want to leave,” He leans back against the counter, feeling the hard, smooth edge of the marble dig against his back. “Obviously, I’m not crazy enough to spend the rest of my life here, waiting to kill or be killed.” He pauses. “And…I’ve been looking into possible causes for my…circumstance, and it’s looking more and more like it would require the work of a trained doctor, using specific equipment to resolve. Which this place,” He gestures around him. “Isn’t exactly equipped to handle.”

The other boy scratches his head. “Um, yeah. I mean I know that much. We all wanna get out and all, but like…do you want to kill someone to make that happen?”

Not in the slightest. He probably held responsibility for the deaths of multiple people at this point, but he had never had to kill them himself, nor witness the moment of their end. Dirtying his hands with someone else’s blood never appealed to him, and it was far more sophisticated to orchestrate someone else handling the messy work.

But his answer must show on his face, because Hagakure nods, satisfied. “Well, there you go! Also, I ran a divination on whether one of us would die today, and it’s not in the cards or the stars or divine intention, so we’re good!” He claps his hands. “Anyways. If you don’t wanna help, that’s all totally cool. All you gotta do is stick around.”

“You can’t be serious.” He scoffs. But he was getting sick of the earlier conversation - sick of talking about himself, sick of thinking about himself - so he stays where he is, crossing his arms as Hagakure busies himself with the ingredients. “How do your divinations even work, anyways?”

“What, you interested?” Hagakure flashes another white smile, and even through the haze Byakuya gets the impression that it’s a salesman grin. He could practically hear the cartoonish chime of a register. “My current going rate’s ten-million yen a reading, but for you I’ll throw in a buddy’s discount of twenty-percent!”

Byakuya gives him the most unimpressed look he can manage. “I’m not interested in wasting money on frivolities.”

“It’s not frivol-anything, man. They’re a hundred-percent legit! …Thirty-three-percent of the time,” He amends, sheepishly, at Byakuya’s withering stare. “But when they’re real, they’re real! With a hundred-percent accuracy!”

As he talks, his hands blur, moving with practiced ease. The small pile of potatoes changing from brown to pale yellow, to small, misshapen chunks, the green stalks of celery disintegrating under a knife, sharp-smelling and darkening the wood beneath it with its moisture. There’s a steady, fluid grace to it, and Byakuya watches on, feeling a sense of deja vu - faintly envious, partly entranced - the last he felt this way, he recalls, was being a child and watching his mother work in her studio, hewing faces out of stone.

He hasn’t thought about that memory in years, and he clicks his tongue sharply, irritated. Hagakure jumps at the sound. “M-maybe it’s more like a ninety-eight percent accuracy?” The fortune-teller tries, hurriedly. “Uh, it depends on how clearly I can convey it, I mean. Like how good the client is with understanding me…dialect differences and all that, though my English is pretty solid-”

“Why fortune-telling, anyways?” He cuts off Hagakure’s rambling. “I can’t imagine it’s an inherited position. You don’t seem the type to be taking up someone else’s legacy.”

“Oh! Well…” He turns to the pot, scrapes a bowl of brown slurry into its bubbling contents. “It was my dad who got me into it - not that he was a fortune teller or anything - but he knew stories about fortune tellers and priestesses and stuff, from where he grew up. It was pretty interesting, and I guess that’s what got me started.” He stirs, sniffs, tosses a handful of green shapes into the mix. “He actually bought me my first crystal ball, though it was just a cheap souvenir thing. I couldn’t’ve been older than, like, six or something.” He laughs. “Wow, I haven’t thought about this stuff in forever.”

“Am I dredging up bad memories?” Byakuya drawls, and Hagakure shakes his head.

“Nah, just old ones. But I got super into it; started begging my Ma to read me divination textbooks for bedtime, she thought I was going crazy. Dad just said it was normal for little kids to be a little crazy about something they like, though.” He shrugs. Another sniff, a sprinkle of red seasoning. “He was the first person I did an accurate divination for, actually. Like a real divination, not just for pretend.”

He goes quiet for a moment, wooden spoon scraping against the inside of the pot. Byakuya frowns. “And what did you ‘see’?” He asks, though only about half as sarcastic as he intended.

“Saw him in the hospital. And then leaving.” He replies simply. He turns, and scoops up the chopped ingredients in his hands, tossing them in with a hiss. “It was clear as day in that little glass ball, like I was watching a TV screen, except also kinda…I don’t know, wiggly? Like a dream. But I got shook up so bad I dropped it and broke the damn thing, and the next day my Dad went to the doctor for a check-up, and they shipped him to the hospital right after. Some genetic, hereditary thing, they wouldn’t even tell me what it was. I think Ma thought it’d freak me out if I knew, but I was just more freaked out not knowing.”

He reaches blindly behind him, searching hand patting at the counter, the cutting board. Byakuya hesitates, then grabs the bowl of chopped meat and passes it over. Its contents splash into the pot. “Thanks. Anyways, the weirdest thing was that I wasn’t, like, scared he was gonna die, or anything. For some reason I knew he was gonna make it, but I was more worried that he was gonna…hurt? Get even worse?” He pauses. “I kept on doing divinations afterwards with a tarot card set, just to see how he was doing, and each time it told me he was gonna be fine.”

His voice sounds a little thick, indistinct. Byakuya was beginning to regret bringing up this topic; he would hate it if he was suddenly expected to have to comfort a grown man. But instead of bursting into tears, Hagakure leans to the side, tucks his face into his elbow, and sneezes, gunshot loud. “Phew! Jeez, the paprika.” He sniffs, and Byakuya’s unease turns back into a comfortable sort of annoyance. “Anyways. Where was I…?”

“...Your father.” He hesitates for a moment. “When he passed away.”

“When he-?” Hagakure turns fully away from the pot to stare at him, mouth open, before breaking into a laugh. Doubling over so and wheezing like he just got punched. “Dude! No way, are you- did you really think that?!”

“What? Am I wrong?” Byakuya feels his face heating red again, with nothing to do with the steam. “Shut up. The way you were talking about it, you were acting like he kicked the bucket,” He snaps, and Hagakure stifles another laugh. “It’s the logical progression of things. You saw him get sick and die, and then-”

“No, no, dude, I said I saw him in the hospital, and then leave - oh, yeah, I guess I can see how you’d think that now.” He stands up straight again, swiping a hand across his face. “Oh man. No, I meant ‘leave’ as in literally leaving, like at an airport? He got better and swung back around, but got a job offer overseas right after, so he never really came back to settle permanently in Japan.” He turns back to the pot, turning the heat down low. “He sends postcards for me all the time, and he and Ma vacation together every year around the holidays.”

So that was it. Byakuya feels an irrational surge of exasperation, as if all his previous pity had just been wasted. “What does he even do? Your father?”

“He teaches quantum mechanics.” At Byakuya’s stunned expression, he snorts. “What, I’m not kidding! He test-runs all his lectures and speeches and stuff to me, and now I know way more about that stuff than I think most people ever need to!”

‘Prove it’ is on the tip of Byakuya’s tongue, but he holds back. He probably would never recover if Hagakure did somehow manage it and make him look like a fool. Hagakure stirs the pot in silence for a moment longer, before asking: “What about you?”

“What?”

“Your parents.” A shot of cold immediately runs down his spine. “Like, I know your dad’s a big rich unmarried bachelor hotshot, but what about your mom? Ah- ” Hagakure presses hand to his mouth. “She…is she, like…?”

“She’s not dead, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” He replies, stiffly. “We’re estranged.”

“O-oh. Um. I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine.” He pauses, looks down at the tile floor. It was a mutual disavowment, around the time he made the decision to try for Togami heir. She was relieved to be rid of him, he was sure, and he was glad to be out of her house full of stone statues and hollow eyes. “I haven’t been in contact with her for several years. We’re as good as strangers.”

He really should just leave it at that. There’s no reason to elaborate any further, nor does he want to; he glares down at his feet, trying to count the tiles, and watches as the dark lines dividing them squiggle and disappear the moment he loses focus. And finds his mouth moving against his will. “My mother is Genevieve Delasol.”

“Cool.” A pause. “Wait, what!?”

Byakuya scowls and looks away as Hagakure turns back to him. “Like, the Delasol?! World-famous artist lady? With the sculptures? Miss Modern Michelangelo?!”

“Don’t call her that.” She had always hated that stupid nickname that the press forced on her, and so did he, though not for her benefit. It was a tasteless, and frankly disrespectful moniker. “But yes. Her.”

“Dude…” There’s awe in his voice, as if it were something impressive. “That’s crazy.”

“It’s not. She birthed me like any other human.”

“Still! Like, they talked about her in my elementary school art class. Her stuff is so-” He splays his fingers near his head, puffs his cheeks to mimic the sound of an explosion. “Like, I remember seeing pictures of her stuff for the first time, and it freaked me out. One of the older kids in the neighborhood told me she was freezing people into rock, that’s how real her stuff looks.”

“She’s a good artist, but she was an awful mother.” Byakuya says flatly, immediately draining the rest of Hagakure’s enthusiasm. “We’re not continuing his conversation.”

“Right, right. Um. Sorry.” He taps his fingers against the spoon, ladles some of it into a little dish to taste. “Okay, um. Could you pass me some dishes? From that cabinet in front of you - to the left - yeah, thanks.”

The concoction he scoops into the shallow dishes Byakuya hands him is…unappealing. At least visually - a muddy brown sludge that glops thickly off of his ladle - but it smells good, spicy and warm. One of the bowls is passed back, and there’s a conflict of sensation as Byakuya tries to decide if he’s hungry enough to risk it, something that he couldn’t even clearly oversee the process of making.

“You’re surprisingly well-versed in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, well. I get into hot water a lot when my fortunes don’t work out, especially with my, uh…higher class clients, so I had to get used to taking care of myself. Didn’t wanna bother my parents with it, ya know?” He flicks off the stove, covers the pot, and reaches to the right for the rice cooker. Opens it with a sharp smack to the lid. “Like, I don’t think I’ve seen my dad face-to-face in…it feels like two years. Maybe longer.”

He holds out his hand. Byakuya passes over his bowl, and he plops some rice into the center of it, before handing it back.

“I can’t finish this much.”

“Sure you can, you’re a growing guy.” There’s the roll of a drawer being pulled open, then a clatter before a spoon is being dropped into his bowl as well. “You better eat all of it, by the way. Every grain of rice has seven gods, so you gotta eat them all so you don’t get cursed.”

“...What kind of saying is that?”

“Dunno, but my Ma used to say it all the time. Come on, let’s go into the caf-”

He halts suddenly, halfway to the door. Byakuya nearly runs into his back, and just barely keeps from spilling his bowl. “What-”

“Um. Hold on.” The previous casualness of his voice is gone, and there’s a hard thread of unease running through it again. “Uh…wait out here for a moment, okay?”

“Why-”

“Dude, please. Just for a moment.” He sets his bowl down on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

And then he’s out the door before Byakuya can make any protest, leaving him alone in the kitchen, now uncomfortably quiet without the soft hiss of the stove. He stands there, stunned, feeling a little bit stung - no, irked - at the sudden dismissal.

He wasn’t about to take orders from Hagakure, regardless of whatever weird pseudo-symbiotic-relationship the other boy thought they had going on. He walks towards the door, moving to elbow it open-

“I’m telling you, just leave him alone.”

He freezes, ducking his head down. Hagakure’s voice is high and scratchy with nervousness, but firm despite that. “For the last time-”

“I-I-I-” Someone else stutters. The voice is familiar, and Byakuya feels his gut drop in recognition. The last he heard it, it was seething with malice, spit like venom at his feet. “I j-just wanna l-look at him…”

Hagakure lets out a long-suffering sigh, indicating that this wasn’t the first time he’s had to deal with this. “Seven hells, Toko, I really don’t get you,” He grumbles. “You said you hated him, right? I mean, you said so at the trial, and you did…all that.” He coughs. “He wasn’t interested to begin with, and there’s really no way to turn it around after that.”

“I-It was t-to prove that we’re th-the same!” Fukawa shrieks, trigger-sudden and indignant. There’s a sharp thump as she stomps her foot, hard enough to rattle some nearby furniture. “If I d-didn’t do that, he w-would’ve never a-accepted what h-happened to him!”

Byakuya frowns at that, and sets the bowl aside in favor of sinking into a half-crouch, ear pressing up against the door, beneath the tiny window. What was she talking about? Not accepting my own condition? Don’t I know myself better than anyone else?

“That’s not up to you to decide,” Hagakure starts.

“I-It’s not up t-to you to p-protect him either!” She spits back. “Y-you’ve been keeping him a-away from me recently, wh-what’s with you? D-did you have some k-kind of awakening, or something?!”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my type is none of your business - and anyways, ain’t it logical to wanna keep away from you?” He grumbles, then yelps. “C-calm down-! I just mean - you know, you…you don’t exactly give off warm and fuzzy feelings about hanging out with people!”

Toko barks a laugh, shrill and mirthless. “Wh-which makes him perfect for me,” And Byakuya feels disgust roll down his back. “I-I know I’m m-miserable, a-and unfriendly and unloveable,”

“Hey,” Hagakure says, a little more gently than before.

“B-but s-so is he! H-he’s just b-better at hiding it, p-pretending to be a, a perfect, white-horse prince,” She spits the words vehemently. “I-if he was p-perfect, th-then maybe, I c-could just be s-satisfied with - with being n-near him, with b-being used…”

She trails off. Byakuya fights the urge to physically cringe at the mere suggestion, instead gritting his teeth, nails scratching lightly against the door’s tacky surface. “B-but, he’s not perfect. S-so, that means I c-can reach him - i-it’s possible for someone l-like m-me to actually be with him,” She giggles, and the sound is far too childishly delighted to suit her mouth, and far too chilling to have innocent intentions behind it. “I-I dragged him off his p-pedestal, s-so now I can actually touch him.”

It’s vile, listening to her. The sound feels like a filth that clings to him, sliding into his ears, contaminating him from the inside out. Poisoning him, paralyzing him.

He’s only vaguely aware of his body sliding down lower, unable to maintain the awkward pose, curled over and unable to brace himself properly against the swinging door. He sinks into a squat, ears straining.

“...Um, ew.” Hagakure mutters succinctly. “Okay, first of all, no you can’t. Pretty sure Monokuma would have some problems about that, he’s all gung-ho about decency and stuff. Second, Toga’s still not gonna be into you. You blew that chance when you, uh…”

“When I w-what? S-strung up Chihiro?” She snorts. “H-he would’ve done the s-same if h-he was a-actually as perfect as h-he said.”

The contamination sinks deeper, claws curling cruelly into his chest. I would have never, He thinks through the tinny, lightheaded hum in his skull, but there’s a sickening sense of dread that twists in his stomach as he realizes he can’t even be sure of that. He might have. He would’ve had no use for Chihiro if he wasn’t blind, he would have barely even hesitated if the opportunity was there - to defile someone else’s corpse for nothing more than his own self-righteousness.

He’s probably had this realization already, but it’s revolting to hear it come from Fukawa. He should go out there, tell her to shut up, to leave him be-

“-a-and anyways, y-you still didn’t t-tell me why y-you’re so obsessed with p-protecting him.” She’s still saying, distantly, and it feels as if the door is suddenly several times thicker than it was previously, muffling the sound dramatically. “Y-you don’t have a-anything in c-common, I don’t s-see why you’d want t-to be near him, u-unless…y-you’re doing it for someone else, aren’t y-you?”

Hagakure doesn’t respond. Makes no sound to confirm or deny it. Byakuya waits, ringing intensifying, disease festering into his lungs. It was getting hard to breathe. His pulse thrums in his ears, too loud to think, not nearly loud enough to drown their voices out.

“I s-saw you with Makoto,” She continues, and the confirmation of Byakuya’s suspicion does nothing to make him feel better. “He- he asked you t-to do this, right? To protect him, h-how nice,” She snarls, disgusted. “L-looking out for his p-precious boyfriend, when he won’t d-do it himself-”

“That’s…that’s not it,” Hagakure protests, but he doesn’t sound convincing, voice so hesitant and soft that Byakuya barely catches it. “Mako-chi’s just…busy, right now-”

“Y-yeah, too busy trying to g-get out of here so Byakuya c-can get fixed, so he can s-stop f-feeling guilty - h-he doesn’t want to have to look at him, b-but he can’t help s-sticking his nose in anyways, he’s s-so sweet it makes me sick.” Byakuya legs shake, cramping, but he forces himself still, keeps his ear flattened to the door despite the nausea building in his gut, the light-headedness in his temples - “B-but it’s too much work t-to comfort him or drag him a-around, s-so he has to get s-someone to do it, right?”

He wouldn’t, is Byakuya’s immediate thought, but it’s weak, even in his own head. Makoto hasn’t sought him out all since that night in the bathhouse because Byakuya had requested it; had demanded that he leave him alone with as much vitriol and firmness as he could muster, and as with so many other things, Makoto had obeyed. But while Fukawa’s words are acerbic and biting, they’re also painfully, terribly logical.

He wonders now, how he must have looked to the others. Slowly falling apart, barely eating, rarely showing his face. So utterly different from how he tried to portray himself at first, an ill-fitted facsimile of how he used to be, how he should be; it’s no wonder Makoto would go behind his back to take care of him. Between disobeying him again and trying to keep him alive, the choice must have been easy.

The fact that that choice had to be made at all, however, made Byakuya want to…

There’s a thud as his legs finally give out, his knees smashing against the tile, but he hardly notices. Not while the sickness spreads, a physical decay in his torso eating away at him, swift and insatiable. He’s not hungry anymore, but he feels emptier than he’s ever been. 

The door swings open suddenly, bumping against his shoulder, and he sways, unsteady. Hands reach out, catching him before he can fall over.

“Whoa, hey,” Hagakure sounds muffled, underwater. He hooks his hands beneath Byakuya’s arms, trying to pull him upright, and only then does Byakuya realize that he’s not really breathing. Probably hasn’t been for the past few minutes. “Toga- I mean- you okay?” 

Of course not, he wants to snap, but talking would mean opening his mouth, and that would mean breaking down into tears like a petulant infant, so he clamps his mouth shut and tries to get as much oxygen as he can through his nose. Slow, stuttered, wheezing breaths, teeth sinking into raw, just-healing skin and breaking it bloody all over again. He leans away from Hagakure’s grip as much as possible and tries to brace himself against the wall, shaky hands against the cool bumps of the tile. Trying to count them, one by one.

“I,” He manages to grit out when he was marginally more calm, ignoring Hagakure’s worried clucking. His voice quavers, and he swallows hard around the shrapnel lodged in his throat. “I’m going to go.”

“Dude, come on-”

He lurches forward, clumsily dodging Hagakure’s attempts to support him, and walks as steadily as he can out of the kitchen. The moment he crosses the open space of the cafeteria and into the hallway, he breaks into a sprint for his room. As far away from prying eyes as he can manage.

__

(When he opens his door later that night, he finds a plastic container and a spoon sitting by the threshold, its contents long cold.)

(He eats it anyways and scrapes it clean, and leaves it sitting empty outside of his door again.)

< previous - from start - next >

[dilfkuza]

staring at my google docs as if itll make me actually pick something to work on faster lmao. at this rate ill be posting Sagawa content before im even finished editing my kazumaji fics

[just-a-floofy-catt]

@midnight-mourning

HIHIHI!

I was your Secret Skeleton

I have finally

Finally

Delivered TwT

Again, im so so incredibly sorry about the delay. College has been absolutely kicking my ass royally for the past month, and ive been so all over the place and swamped with things to do when i didnt expect it at all.

And to make it worse, when i finally had it almost done, and i dropped that message in your ask box, i got ill 🥲

My whole family was sick with it, so it was bound to catch up to me eventually, but i still cant believe how stupidly inconvenient it was!!

Anyyywaysss

The piece i drew for you is based on one of my favourite scenes from what ive read so far of your fic Confused Spirit! :D

Im pretty sure its from chapter 13. I tried to keep it as faithful to the fic as i could, even with YNs outfit being the closest i could visualise to what they were described to wear, and trying to make sure i was using the right design for Moon for this point in the story.

Theres just something about this scene that just really stuck with me. Its just so oddly beautiful, and i kind of resonated with it to a degree.

Ive been absolutely loving the fic so far and im so invested!! I think i got to around chapter 18 the last time I read, but im 100% going to be trying to fully catch up on it :3

Its just so well written, and YN and their siblings are very loveable. And im someone who loves when fics are full of ocs, because it just makes the fic feel so lively and full and complex and fun, and the way you utilise that in CS is immaculate and really aids in the world building, and every second of character interaction is just a complete joy to read.

And the mystery going on has me HOOKED DUDE IM HOOKED!!!!!

And the tenuous and almost transactional relationship between YN and Sun(particularly)/Moon is just so interesting to watch. Like, idk if its supposed to be as complex as i perceive it as, or if im just kinda stupid or bad at reading things, but i do adore how complex it seems, and how it always seems like theres something we're missing. Its like an itch that i can't quite scratch, but somehow in the best way! XD

Its so fun and intriguing to analyse what everyones motives could be, and to pick apart the piecs of the story we're not quite directly told.

(Alt versions)

But yeah, i hope you like the art! ^^

Apologies again for the terrible timing

[monstersinthecosmos]

kacy i wanna know how much of a perv you think daniel is LOL so much fic centers on armand dragging him through an experience *armand* wants. so like what's the ratio of daniel being a freak in his nature (and knowing this about himself) vs armand nurturing this trait into him?

My friend, I’m so glad you asked.

THE THING IS IVE GIVEN THIS A LOT OF THOUGHT and in some ways it’s like, what all of my Devil’s Minion fics are about LOL. And yet! I don’t have a simple answer to this question, the way real questions of nature vs nurture are complicated in the real world in real people!

But let me sketch out a framework of the way I’ve questioned this, and everyone might come to different conclusions and that’s the fun of fandom, because there can exist several thousand versions of Daniel based on the same text! AND I KNOW YOU KNOW THIS STUFF, I HOPE IT DOESN’T COME OFF AS MANSPLAINING LMAO but I’m excited to talk about this topic. 

Here’s what we know unequivocally from the text:

Daniel is 20 years old in IWTV.

That’s it, that’s the whole list.

And here’s some fanon that people often try to extrapolate from the text: 

💦 That he met Louis at a gay bar. UNCONFIRMED, but I think it’s likely? In the short story the bar is named the Pink Baby, I think that might be a gay bar or a dick reference idk lol. 

💦 Whether or not the Pink Baby was a gay bar, he and Louis essentially cruised each other and left the bar together! Daniel has the excuse that he’s hunting for interviews for his job, Louis has the excuse that he’s an apex predator who preys on people, but ? Take this wherever you need to. (Also blah blah Ricean biting=sex symbolisms.)

💦 Was Daniel bisexual outside of the assumption that most of the VC characters are bisexual/omnisexual? The only clue we get is that when he and Armand practice voyeurism, he hooks up with men and women. There’s a lot of interesting information packed into the voyeurism paragraph, like this line: Yet he lay empty afterwards, staring at Armand, resentful, cold. and I’ve seen the “resentful, cold” comment dissected many times in fandom. Is it the general resentment of their whole relationship? Is it because he wants to fuck Armand and not randos? Is it because he only wants the Blood? Does he not consent to being used like a zoo animal? Is he gay and doesn’t want to fuck women? Is he straight (minus the orientation-defying vampire attraction) and doesn’t want to fuck men? I’ve seen all kinds of takes on this LOL. But still, no real definitive answer about his orientation in the text.

💦 What did the “roaming the bars of the world” comment mean? Sometimes I read Anne Rice’s language as being kinda lofty and exaggerated but was he ACTUALLY traveling the WHOLE WORLD or is he hyping up that he trolled bars in the Bay Area? Is he FROM the Bay Area or was it a stop in his travels? He worked for a radio station (not in the book, but mentioned in the short story + The Vampire Companion and The Alphabettery) so did he live here, even if he traveled a lot? Was he wealthy before vampires if he was traveling this much, if you think he was a traveler?

AND AFTER ALL THAT, here’s some extra questions where Daniel is FREE REAL ESTATE that every fan has the freedom to make the fuck up:

💦 How much sexual experience did he have at 20? Do we assume that by default as an Anne Rice character he probably had ample teenage sexual experiences, and if he did, is there a quality over quantity aspect to consider? Is the sex we have as teenagers like, all that to write home about LMAO. Do we really understand kinks yet, or do we need to grow up and gain some perspective first? 

💦 As an Anne Rice character, by default, do we assume he & everything else is sexually charged LOL, are the interviews and cruising and taking people home a code for bringing partners home? What percentage of his interviews were also hookups?  

💦 When we talk about nature vs nurture for kinkiness, how micro and macro is this? As a fellow Off the Cuffs fan I know you understand the “radioactive spider bite into kink” concept, and some kinks are so specific to our experiences. But BEING KINKY in itself IS nature, isn’t it? I’ve read some sex & kink theory that kink is (psychologically) more like an innate orientation. IE: in the way you can be straight or gay, some people are also by default turned on by being smacked or by whatever paraphilia. Whatever that thing is, the way it takes shape, is the nurture half. But like, many people can have the same experience and 99% of them don’t develop a paraphilia right? So I think that capability exists in kinky folks at all times, especially when so many of the radioactive spider bites are things that people discover in childhood. ANYWAY I RANTED but I say that to say; DANIEL MOLLOY IS A MONSTERFUCKER, IWTV IS THE PROOF THAT HE IS A MONSTERFUCKER. IT WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME. 

So I bring up all those questions to encourage everyone to make up their own story with this, but I’ll tell you where I personally landed and how I approach it in my fics!!!

The Daniel in MY OWN fics is 20, single child, estranged from his parents, dropped out of college because he didn’t have ADHD support and was struggling, bisexual and promiscuous! I wonder if he went through that like college freshman thing where he got out of his parents house for the first time and partied a little too hard because he COULD! I like to read “bars of the world” as an exaggeration, I like to think he was a normal guy NOT globe hopping, sticking to the Bay Area, maybe he was out there for college, and guess what! There’s a thriving gay liberation culture there, so he finds some safe spaces to experiment with that! 

However, I think the text leaves space to think he didn’t have a lot of close friends, or wasn’t close with his family, due to the way that he simply ✨fucks off ✨ after IWTV. NOW, that’s just me! Because there’s potential here for a TRAGEDY of people looking for him or grieving him! But idk I just like thinking that he was already on the outs and the interview pushed him over the edge.

So I ask like, does the 20 year old have a ton of kink experience? Is he good at sex? WHAT DOES RESENTFUL, COLD MEAN? Was he celibate during the chase years? Are the voyeurism sessions the first time he’s had sex since his old life? Even if he had random hookups during the chase years, was this qualitatively good sex? Can you truly get into good BDSM on a hookup or do you need a trusted partner? (This is subjective, idk, but!) 

Also, how much kink is theoretical and private (to masturbate to) vs stuff you actually try? Especially if we believe that kink is nature, someone isn’t less kinky if they’re celibate, the way someone isn’t less gay if they’re celibate, or even a virgin. As Daniel becomes more and more obsessed with vampires, and with Armand, does it take over how he jerks off? Does he think about getting bitten? HE LIKES SNUGGLING WITH DEAD THINGS.

So like, there IS an element of Daniel being the unwilling witness of Armand’s rapidly shifting hyperfixations, and it’s natural that fandom pervs would extend that to sex acts and kinks. I LOVE IT, yes! It makes sense. 

But when you say like, which one of them is in charge, I wonder if it’s relevant if we assume Daniel enjoys it. (Does he? Would he? Resentful, cold?)

Here’s some points that come to mind when I imagine it as purely Armand’s doing:

💦 People sometimes misunderstand BDSM dynamics when it comes to power and control, because BDSM is a consensual fantasy between two adults. The sub is just as in control, because they allow it. In that sense: Do we believe Armand respects Daniel’s consent? Would he force Daniel to participate if he wasn’t enjoying himself? 

🩸 (How much can we compare this to Venice and how Armand was prepared for vampirism? I’m putting this in parentheses bc I’m putting a pin in this one, I CANNOT ADD A SUB-ESSAY INTO THIS POST ABOUT COMPARING VENICE TO DEVILS MINION but thinking of this too. Returning to the under-negotiated kink in Venice and how much is diegetic to the text, how does experiencing a spectrum of sexuality benefit someone’s last years alive ((sub-parentheses: does Armand flip-flop on turning Daniel as much as Marius did with Armand, does Armand subliminally know he’ll turn Daniel one day, does he go through these experiences as a precursor to turning Daniel eventually?)) are these experiences more for Armand to process the way he was groomed for asexual immortality vs being purely selfless and for Daniel’s benefit?)

💦 Armand uses Daniel as his usher into the modern age, and is it fair to assume he could sense Daniel’s kinkiness and knew that this was the person for him? 

💦 How dubious is Daniel’s consent here? How addicted to Armand’s Blood is he by the time they start fucking around? Is he already within the throes of Ricean Omnisexuality where he’s down for whatever? Does the Blood influence this as well? Is there a secret subliminal violence creeping into your body when you’ve been drinking it again and again? What about less violent kinks, like your feederism fic? Does the Blood encourage all types of excess and consumption??? 

But if DANIEL is the driving force here, I still must consider:

💦 He meets Armand and his life essentially ends when he’s 20 years old. Was he really self-aware of his kinks? Did he know himself very well sexually yet? 

💦 While exploring kinks can be mutually beneficial by sating Armand’s need for WEIRD HUMAN STUFF, maybe it IS something Daniel wants. It’s something he’s missing out on, because he checked out of regular human life when he was 20. Like, everyone’s different, so, I’m not saying that people can’t be sexually articulate at 20, but I know I fucking wasn’t! And I personally never fucked anyone that age who was good at it LMAO. So like how old would Daniel have been before he experimented enough to really know what he liked, and how much of him getting to know his sexuality involved Armand during the next decade?

💦 And this ties into Armand being his sugar daddy! That’s canon! Armand is his sugar daddy! If Daniel, at 28 years old, starts lamenting “I wish I’d gotten the chance to try watersports when I still had a normal life :( “ wouldn’t Armand have arranged that for him? 

🩸 (Again let’s talk about Venice and what did Armand learn there about being the vampire lover, how much does he process and repeat on Daniel, and for whose benefit?)

💦 If Daniel is an innately kinky person, and realizes as he’s approaching 30 that he never really got to explore it properly, wouldn’t Armand usher him through that experience? Even if Armand didn’t plan to turn him, I wonder if he saw the window of Daniel’s mortal experience closing, maybe he worried that this is the type of thing people need to be wild about while they’re still so young. And outside of stigmatizing Daniel's age, it's also about how he was becoming less and less healthy, dying of alcoholism at 32, so there was a small window here for them to have sex adventures.

So basically, I’m saying that the nature half feels very much like Daniel being a monsterfucker, the nurture half is the actual experiences he got to have. And I don’t think he’d be in this situation in the first place if he wasn’t a bit of a monsterfucker, and wasn't a innately into danger and pain. Like, we don’t get a TON of examples but Gretchen and Babette didn’t try to fuck vampires! We know that vampires give humans the heebie jeebies! What kind of sick fuck is into that?!?!?!? 

I don’t really have one single answer here. When it comes to the large library of kinks I think either of them can be blamed, and I also think it 100% makes sense to use Armand as a vehicle to write fic about them as if they’re another collection of human oddities for him to explore. But even using Armand’s weird bullshit to process that doesn’t mean it’s not mutually beneficial, and I think it gets into a fuzzier area that’s up to the writer when it comes to their take on the relationship, how dubious the consent is, how much do they actually like each other and get along? Can it be mutually beneficial in the end even if one person is driving? (see: the conversation about the second whipping scene in TVA and how it works out in the end.) Is it something they have fun agreeing to and negotiating in advance? 

I can totally see how someone might write this as a fun thing that they talk about beforehand as easily as it could be Armand forcing mystery adventure on Daniel and suddenly he’s tied up in some shitty apartment in Hells Kitchen with some man pissing on him, and did he ever even reveal this kink to Armand or did Armand pull it out of his head? 

The ship dynamic is so fucked up and coercive and resentful and toxic, even though there is real love here, so there’s this whole spectrum to use when you build your fanworks and headcanons!!!!!!! AND LIKE

IF IT’S COERCIVE AND FUCKED UP, DOES IT DRIVE THEM FURTHER APART OR BRING THEM CLOSER TOGETHER? IS DANIEL RESENTFUL AND COLD AND DOES THIS CAUSE FIGHTS? IS THIS A WAY FOR THEM TO PROCESS SOME OF THEIR COLDNESS AND RESENTMENT BECAUSE THEY AREN’T GOOD COMMUNICATORS? DO THEY DO BETTER AFTER THESE SESSIONS AND FEEL CLOSER BECAUSE THEY BROKE THROUGH SOMETHING NEITHER OF THEM KNEW HOW TO SAY?

Gosh idk.

Anyway I apologized in the beginning for mansplaining but I also want to apologize for this non answer LMFAO. I hope it doesn’t feel like a cop-out to not have a real answer, it’s just that I think there is such a rich context with a MENAGERIE of possibility !!!!!!! 

[interpolanticssuperfan]

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 3 | 18+ only

hii everyone! thank you SO much for the incredible kindness youve shown me and sweet words so far! and thank you all for reading. i accidentally made this chapter longer than i intended to.. oops. i hope i am doing a good job at slow burning because ive struggled with that in the past. warnings: reader goes outside to smoke a cigarette. lol. enjoy and as always feedback fuels me!!

also, i wanted to let you all know that you can listen to the playlist i have been listening to as i work on this fic which is sort of a mix of stuff that reminds me of ken and stuff i think he'd like. idk i love when authors share what they listen to, so you can check that out here.

you can also reply to my posts or message me if you want to be tagged for updates. i am posting a masterlist today for ease of access.

tags: @heyareyoulistening @itsametaphorbriansblog @alyeria

In the span of one hour, you absorbed more information and somehow became more confused the longer Ken spent investigating every inch of your apartment. You explained to him that you did not own this entire building, and that only one unit was allotted to you, but this still impressed Ken.

“Are you friends with all your neighbors?” He asked, squinting closely at the magnets on your fridge, touching them and flipping frantically through the notepad you used for grocery lists, like he needed to see more of your handwriting, more of the things you used every day. Ken murmured to himself as he took in the words: flour, one dozen eggs, croissants.

You’d reinstated yourself at your dining table with your work laptop, creating an elaborate lie for your supervisor as to why you missed the weekly team check in. My cousin’s dog was assaulted by a rabid possum and we had to take him to the emergency vet, please excuse my brief absence… I’m happy to work overtime to accommodate this inconvenience… He was only a puppy…

So on and so forth. You were confident you could schmooze your way out of a write up. Ken couldn’t stand still, couldn’t contain himself – had whizzed through the front door when you unlocked it, bouncing off the walls with questions and comments that flowed freely.

“No, I’m not friends with all my neighbors. There’s gotta be at least forty other people that live here. Are you?”

“I know all the Kens. We are not all friends. But I know all of them.”

“You’re all named Ken.”

“No. There’s Allans.”

“Right.”

Ken gleefully picked up each cookbook stacked on top of a low hanging shelf, tearing through each one and making tiny astonished faces at each new dish he was introduced to. Recipes on the sweeter side piqued his interest – cinnamon rolls, pastries, cookies. You had suspended disbelief long enough to just let Ken do this, let him touch everything even if he moved your belongings out of place. It wasn’t typical for you to have a man over, let alone one who was learning how the natural human world worked. (And had to ask you with stars in his eyes what ovens were for.)  

“These pancakes look divine. They’re putting all kinds of stuff in these. I didn’t know you could put blueberries in them. They taste good, right?” You craned your neck to get a look at the recipe he was referring to.

“If you’re a decent cook! You just have to pay attention to what you’re doing, measuring, how long things stay on the stove. It’s like that for anything you cook. I’m not great with pancakes, for some reason I always tend to burn them.”

“So what’s your favorite food?” Ken asks, setting the book down and taking to the fridge, flinging the doors wide open and surveying each salad dressing, bottle of water, every can of cold brew coffee. He ran his fingers along the labels, as if reading braille, receiving telepathic information about these products from just handling them. It was an odd sight. Everything he held looked so small in his hands.

“Er… I guess I really like sushi. But I haven’t had it in awhile. Trying to save money, make a habit of eating at home. And I just like to make simple things.”

“What’s in sushi?” Ken’s rotating a banana in his hands, picking at the stem to see what it does.

“A lot of things. Usually raw fish. Rice that sticks together to make a shape, seaweed, different kinds of sauces.” It’s making you laugh, seeing Ken size up this banana with a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want to try eating that?”

He shifts uncomfortably, placing the fruit back down on the counter like it had offended him. “We have these in Barbieland but they are not nearly as squishy. Ours are rock hard. And not brown!”

Ken was right – that banana was probably past its prime, but you hadn’t cleaned out the fridge in a few days. You’d gotten sick of refreshing your inbox waiting for a reply from your supervisor, so you got up and pulled a knife from the drawer, setting the squishy banana on a paper towel to cut it.

“Here. Try this,” you cut through the peel and divide up a small end slice into two pieces, holding one out to Ken who seems frightened by it, squares his shoulders.

“There’s something inside that peel?”

“Go ahead, just take a bite! You might like it, how else will you find out what you like?”

“But (Y/N), I’m not… hungry.”

“That’s okay. It’s a very small slice, I promise it’ll be alright, Ken.”

His eyes flash with trust at the promise you’ve just made him, so he abandons his apprehension and plops the bit into his mouth. It’s like watching a baby bird clamor for its mother’s offering of regurgitated seed and berry mix. Ken doesn’t instinctively chew, he just lets it sit in his mouth like he’s waiting for the fruit to do something. You raise up the other banana slice, catch his eye and show him how to chew, slowly, and then swallow. 

Ken nods, although his movements are strange and exaggerated, but eventually allows a smile. “That was pretty good. Mushy.” He searches your face to see if he’s given the correct answer, which is even funnier to you than him trying food for the first time.

“Did you like it? Bananas are on the sweet side.”

“Definitely. I think I really like them. Can I have the rest of it?”

“So you can taste!”

Ken grins to himself, gives you a proud stance and swaggers to the side, popping his hip out as he starts cutting up the rest of the fruit. 

“Oh, yeah. I can taste everything. Nothing I can’t taste.”

“When I go to the store next I can get you some more sweet foods. But you can’t just eat sweets. Fruit is naturally sweet, but for example, you can’t just have ice cream and brownies all the time. Your body will hate you for that.”

“And I can make you pancakes with bananas.” Ken adds, cocky as ever, already physically spreading himself out in your kitchen like he owns the place, thighs open and easy and confident as he leans back. He adjusts quickly to new situations, you’re discovering, with none of the social anxiety most people might feel.

“Let’s save the cooking and… turning on the stovetop… for when I can teach you. It can be dangerous if you’re not familiar with what to do.”

“But what if I want to surprise you, (Y/N)? You wouldn’t want to ruin it, would you?”

“I’d rather ruin the breakfast than have you accidentally catch my apartment building on fire.”

Ken considers this, starts chewing at the rest of the banana slices while still committed to looking cool as he does so. “You’re so right. So, where do you think I should sleep?”

You put some distance between the two of you, since proximity to the blonde had begun to make you feel inexplicably self conscious, and sit back down at your laptop. You hadn’t gotten this far, hadn’t decided where Ken could stay and if he was even going to stay. Stay for what? A crash course in becoming a member of society? Turn him into the perfect roommate who’s convinced you’re dating now? And how in the hell were you qualified to teach him anything about life, fulfillment, health or success when you were far from the epitome of any of those?

“I thought you said you didn’t get tired.”

“There’s something I need to tell you about,” the sudden change in Ken’s tone caught you off guard, so after taking a brief glance at your emails again and confirming nothing of substance had arrived, you folded your hands in your lap and turned your body towards him, anticipatory and patient.

“When Barbie went to the real world, almost everything about her changed. She still looked like herself, but… it was different. She told us that she got a cold.” Ken gestured to his nose, crinkling it up in dismay. “Sniffling. She had to use tissues.” 

“You’re worried about getting sick?”

“No, not… right now.” Ken tried again, attacking it from a different angle. “Barbie said the longer she was here, the more she kept changing. Barbies never got sick before. But she had to see a human doctor, and she started making her own food and eating it. Sandwiches. And her flat feet never went away.” Ken’s distress was evident, but you weren’t sure what he was getting at, couldn’t see what panicked him so much about this topic.

“I don’t understand. What are you saying, Ken?” You tried to keep yourself casual, so as not to freak him out even further; he’d already begun pacing, boots clacking against your kitchen tile with each step.

“I’m saying that the longer I stay here, the less I’m going to be like… how I was.” He sounded so unsure, on the precipice of a conclusion, fearful of what he might learn. “Don’t you get it? I’ll have to brush my hair. Call the dentist. Pay taxes. Wear deodorant. I might get a breakout on my chin, just like Barbie did.” The last part sounded like the nail in the coffin for Ken, who looked weak just recalling the memory.

“Taxes? But you don’t have a job, do you? For all the city knows, you don’t even exist.”

“That’s not the point, (Y/N)! I’ll have to get a job.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. So… it sounds like you’ll become less like a doll?”

“Exactly. And I’ll have to do it alone.” Ken was silent, pensive as you let his confession settle. Perhaps it wasn’t the changes that he dreaded.

It was doing it without any support.

“I see. So you’ll have to sleep. You’ll have to eat. Is that scaring you?” Your intention was to minimize these facts of daily human life, shrink them down to manageable tasks, not to trivialize his valid concerns.

Ken hollowed his cheek, bit the skin in between his teeth and looked around for something to focus on while he reflected on what you asked. Noticing the cage you had set up for your guinea pig, Ken crouched in front of it without so much as a knee crack, raising his eyebrows up inquisitively.

“Who’s this?”

“I should’ve introduced you to her earlier. She’s my guinea pig, her name’s Willa. See her long hair? It’s really beautiful, but she’s pretty high maintenance.” 

Sounds like someone else in this room.

Being so close to Willa appeared to calm Ken down, and you watched his shoulders drop slightly, saw the veins in his neck depress, growing less agitated. “Does she have to brush her hair?”

The cookbooks, grocery lists, the banana had inspired Ken to ask countless questions, but meeting Willa, Ken merely watched in quiet awe.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his purported  jab. “I help her with it every day. She’s got a special little brush.”

“Hers is longer than mine. At least she gets some assistance.”

Ken sighs deeply, not taking his eyes off tiny caramel colored Willa, who has no idea what’s happening, just lounges in the paper substrate fleece and wiggles her nose up at the blonde staring her down. He rubs meager circles on his knees as if to soothe himself, then sighs again, long and dramatic. From minute to minute, Ken’s moods shift so drastically – he could be lovingly describing his newfound obsession with bananas and then just as easily pivot to jealousy over a guinea pig receiving grooming services from its owner. Decoding him was like whiplash.

“Ken?”

“I’ve been putting off thinking about this part.”

“You mean losing your doll-ness?”

“Yeah.” Ken’s voice is small, terrified, unbefitting of how he presented himself. Put together, well dressed, toned, tanned, oozing with charm. It all dissipated with his answer. 

With your foot, you push out the dining table chair adjacent to you, the scrape spooking Ken as he jumps. “Why don’t you come sit here and talk with me? You can bring Willa, she likes making friends. Just be mindful of her.” Nervous, Ken obliges, sticks a hand into her enclosure and waits for Willa to crawl over to him. 

To your shock, she comes without a moment’s hesitation, nosing at his palm and blinking at him. Willa ardently disapproved of your last boyfriend, and she never seemed to like the odd hookup you’d bring over after your explosive breakup. She’d ignore any man in the apartment for the most part, but you couldn’t believe how easy it had been for her to warm up to Ken, snuggling up to him already. 

“Wow. She normally doesn’t like strangers.” 

“Looks like she prefers your friends. She’s so soft,” Ken notes, temporarily forgetting about the needling anxiety he’d been expressing to you, and sits down. At your table Ken seemed larger than life, so full of color and irresistible personality. The most interesting irregularity you had ever entertained. He flattened the backs of his hands on the placemat and smiled down shyly at Willa, gentle like he was convinced the tiniest movement could hurt her.

(A smile that had the power to devastate – could ruin your life, could make you want to throw it all away just to know him; a smile that Ken saved specifically for a defenseless creature that nibbed at his thumbnail.) 

“Go ahead and pet her! They like that,” you encouraged Ken, denying the lump in your throat, who obeys and brings a steady forefinger to Willa’s back, warily petting her in one stunted action. Willa rustles, but doesn’t flee or make any noises contesting his presence. “She might try to run away, so just make sure you keep an eye on her.”

“I promise I will, (Y/N). How old is she?”

“She’s two and a half.” You raise your eyes to Ken, who’s entranced by the small animal and her lustrous coat, indifferent to his surroundings now that he’s connected with this hairy comrade. “How old are you?”

“I have no idea. How old are you?” 

This shouldn’t have surprised you at this point. Nothing could catch you off guard now as you went down the list, dedicating yourself wholly to figuring out what to do with this guy. Given how unadjusted he is to the world, is Ken your responsibility now? What would happen to him if he went out, unprepared, unassimilated, and tried to do things like get a job, buy something from the store? Had he ever seen currency before? 

Would you have to teach Ken math? You failed calculus. More than once. This wasn’t boding well.

“I’m twenty five. You don’t have a birthday?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s how you keep track of your age. Could you look at me for a second? Maybe I can try and guess.” Ken’s reluctant to stop looking at Willa, but does as you say, and it strikes you to admire him overtly like this, free from the guise of contrived modesty, not hiding how strongly you want to see him. He’s open, almost tranquil, those wide eyes continuously following yours, every single aspect of his demeanor softening the more you drink him in.

You couldn’t help but freeze. Pinning him. You could hear the robins chirping outside on the patio. Buses shuttling along on the road outside. Your blood pumping in your fingers, the hot curl of desire in your stomach. At once, everything felt vibrant, felt… exceptional.

Because of him.

Blonde angel, almost porcelain. Kind with your pet. Enthralled with the simplest items you owned. Eager to assist you with any task, however minor. Naively trusting. 

Blind to the ways this world could twist and chew you up. Brand new.

You wouldn’t ever be the source of pain for Ken. In that moment, searching his stark blue eyes for an answer to a question you couldn’t articulate, you wrote it on your heart, that no matter what happened – whether Ken stayed in your life, as a friend or something more – you would never hurt him.

You don’t even remember what you were trying to do with him. Mesmerized, you simply just enjoyed the sight, at a loss for words. What was there to say that wouldn’t fizzle out and die on your lips?

How are you real? (He wasn’t.)

How did you get here? (He’d waited for you.)

Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

“(Y/N)? Did you calculate it yet? Maybe it’ll be easier if I unbutton my jacket. Willa, stay put, I need to do something,” It flew over your head, you couldn’t hear what he said, just gawked and felt your pulse thrum as Ken started to undo the top of his denim jacket. Deft fingers working, you had to be aware of how affected you looked. You couldn’t hide it.

To see more of Ken’s chest physically pained you – it hurt to look, hurt to squirm and act like it wasn’t overwhelming, burning you up. He showed off his defined, carved muscle, smooth and enticing like a joke or something. 

Willa sniffed the salt and pepper shaker, not moving even a millimeter away from Ken as he undid the last button with a muffled pop. 

Where wisps of blonde hair would’ve led down to the tip of Ken’s waistband, there was nothing, just more of that milky white skin, blameless and pure and teasing. Where ribs should have anatomically been, his chest expanded then deflated, ripples of flesh rolling, then relaxing.

All of him on display. All of him so… bare.

Well – not all of him. Not yet.

You hadn’t felt anything like this before, not ever. You were experienced – you weren’t uneducated when it came to sex, or… pleasure. Yet it was impossible that you’d felt true desire in the past, even for the man you’d fallen in love with and been betrayed by, because those memories shriveled in comparison to what you felt in this moment, seeing Ken like this, expectant and unrestrained and so fiercely magnetizing. You saw your future, you saw his body, you saw Ken’s long eyelashes fluttering and pretty like a girl’s, and it was too fucking much, louder than your heart slamming inside your chest.

You began to question if you were even real. If this was happening. Maybe you were the lifeless doll. Harsh stings peppered out along the slope of your neckline – for the second time since meeting Ken, did that really just happen today? – and you made the horrible mistake of telling him the truth just as he was starting to visibly fidget, awaiting your reply.

“(Y/N)? Is this helping? If not, I can –”

“You’re so goddamned gorgeous. Fuck.” 

“What?” Ken blinked, taken aback. He looked like he wanted to say more, to press you, but he couldn’t form a response. 

“I’m. Jesus. I am so sorry, Ken. That wasn’t appropriate at all. I’m… supposed to be helping you. I’m sorry.” Dizzyingly, you shot to your feet, dug your heels against the floor just to feel grounded, and reached over the table for your purse. 

Weren’t you the one supposed to be in charge of boundaries? Teaching Ken how to act, how not to rush things when you met someone you wanted to get to know? 

Ken had flushed a deep shade of peach, an obvious blush that mottled his neck and spread out to his clavicles, nearly reaching his shoulder tips. 

“Did I do something wrong? Can you please tell me what it was?” Ken urged, pupils the size of saucers and still dancing to follow your every move. His face was frantic, lips parted revealing more of his perfect teeth, just another element of his perfect face, everything so perfect about him, and your headache threatened to return in full force.

“No – no, you didn’t, Ken. I promise. I just need to go outside and smoke, it’s not your fault, okay? Can you please stay here with Willa? I’ll only be a minute.”

Ken clearly didn’t know what you meant, or what smoking entailed, but he stayed fused to the chair, biting at his lip again in fragile confusion and not daring to abandon Willa. Fumbling for your lighter through the fabric, you caught the unmistakable downturn of rejection swimming across his features, and the notion that you might have inadvertently let him down made you sicker than the intense wave of lust that had just crashed over you, almost crumbling you, reducing you to nothing but a star cursed to orbit a bigger, more important planet. 

[ofmermaidstories]

Bad day for nosy people who need to know what old fandom is 👀👀

lmao, i’m trying to talk myself out of it so that i don’t turn my current WIP list upside down on itself but. 🥹 i fear it has very powerful claws. 🦞 i’ve been mulling over like, why it ([Old Fandom]) is so attractive to me right now and i think it’s a combination of a few things!! like, one is the fact that i never originally left it by choice—real life kinda forced me away from my hobbies, and by the time i could circle back again, the fandom had died (i find it really interesting that so many modern fandoms don’t have staying power, but that’s a different discussion) and i was interested in different things. but now it’s seeing a revival and i’m remembering how much i loved it and how i never really… got closure for it, LOL, as silly as that sounds. 🥹 i never finished any of my ideas. 🥺 i went back into my old account actually, like a couple of weeks ago, and went through my fic drafts i had at the time and it—idk. i guess it just made me nostalgic. 🥹 it’s different, tonally, to what we do here in the bnha/x reader niche!! and it makes me itchy. 🥹😩 god!! so itchy. i wanna dig my fingers into it and move things around. dig it up from the garden. perform necromancy on the lover that doesn’t even know they’re dead, and blinks and finds themselves sitting in the same old kitchen with a cup of coffee in their hand. 🥹🥹🥹 i’m better equipped now—i know how to keep myself interested in long-term projects, how to finish them and, most importantly, what i like.

there’s a lot of stuff i like to write that i just don’t, here in our niche. either because it doesn’t fit in with the bnha world or just doesn’t like… suit the x reader POV. and that’s on me LOL, a better (or maybe more determined) writer could make all those things work, but part of what i like about bnha and x reader and [old fandom] is that they’re distinct—they all feel different. i wrote a lot before i got here!! i wrote so much. i wrote so much that i like, kinda burnt myself out on it LMAOO. there were tropes i liked and settings and tricks i used all the time that after a while they got boring to me. 🥹 and now after a million years of doing something different, i’ve realised—oh. i really liked all that. 🥹 i really like it, still.

idk!! idk. part of not naming the fandom is also because i haven’t decided if i wanna jump back in or not lmao. do i do it, knowing it’ll slow everything up even more? we tell ourselves all the time here in fandom circles that it’s just fanfic/fanart! you’re here to have fun! if it gets hard or boring or you wanna try something new—drop it! do it! you don’t owe anybody anything!! which is all very true yes sure. except i, me, mermie, want to finish things. i want the satisfaction of finishing the IAL series. im actually very proud of the fics, and while i know i will finish shouto’s (barring being kidnapped by pirates or aliens or death himself ig 💀), i also know im a slow writer, and that letting myself deviate off path into a completely different fandom will make me slower. 🥹 so idk. i guess ive just been ruminating on fiddly details like that LOL. also i don’t have a solid plot in mind yet (even tho i have a general gist of what i want) so that’s also probably the main leash rn LMAOOO. tbh if i get one im going in swinging, fist first, so let’s all hope that i remain idealess on that front lest the demons take me. 🥹🙏🏽

[yourstrulyray]

hi do you want to talk abt isaac.

basically i'm writing a cbs ghosts fic with a focus on some original characters but with a lot of nisaac and plenty of the entire cast in general

it'll have a lot of isaac's pov as well, with his thoughts about two people who can be openly queer in the modern era

but. since ive only watched like,, probably less than half of the show. i thought talking to someone else abt it could help me characterise everyone?? i also just want to talk abt it bc it's kind of a fixation right now haha

no pressure though!! hope you have a nice day

AAAAA yes please i would love to talk about my son hehdhd

let me list out some timelines pre-death first :3

isaac's marriage to beatrice: before or during 1773 the american revolutionary war: 1775-1783 nigel's death: 1776 isaac's death: 1777

so since the start of season 1, despite isaac's efforts we could all still see the fact he does not find women attractive (he literally called his wife, beatrice a handsome woman) so we're thinking bad comphet for our guy here.

(this only applies pre-nisaac) there are five male ghosts of the main cast, so when they all collectively agree that one girl is attractive (maybe not pete), isaac naturally plays along with it, but. plays along badly. everyone could tell that he did not find that girl attractive

as during nisaac, he is still obviously hesitant to be open because he had never been in a relationship with another man. a homosexual relationship. but not only is he hesitant, he is scared.

why is he scared? take a guess of what punishment you'd get for being gay in the 1770s (especially 1776).

the death penalty.

and we all know our guy isaac likes to talk about himself, he was so heavily disappointed to see that all he was in history was a footnote, and how he was jealous that his rival, hamilton, got a whole MUSICAL made about him (isaac loves musical theatre so thats twice the angy) so it's reasonable for him to be scared of death.

but hes already dead, why still be scared?

i actually dont know why but it's probably muscle memory for isaac to pretend. maybe he only found out that queerness was legalized/modernized through sam, not even through the recently dead ones. gotta hand it to him though i cant keep up a facade for more than a century XD

anyway, him being hesitant isn't the only problem, it's also the way he handles his relationship with nigel. his only other serious relationship was with a woman he wasn't even romantically interested in, so he has no healthy base to rely his current relationship with. also, his god-forsaken terrible communication skills, bros been pretending so much that even his personal feelings should be hidden 😭🙏 who hurt u man?

honestly his poo communication skills can still be linked back to his marriage with beatrice. maybe he had no problem with her, therefore no feelings were required to be shared, and he didn't have the need to communicate. but with nigel is a whole different situation.

oh yeah speaking of nigel, like isaac he doesn't have a healthy basis for a relationship. in this case, he previously was in a homosexual relationship, but it was only a sexual (?) one (with jenkins, but idk about the sexual part so jenkins fans back me up 🙏🙏).

we do see in the series that isaac is taking baby steps in the relationship, as opposed to nigel who rushes the starting-to-adjust stage, because this isn't his first gay relationship (whos gonna tell him) which then results to isaac having certain feelings about it, which then results to isaac not communicating as to pretend he can manage their relationship.

one thing about isaac's "certain feelings", it's usually about little things not even serious stuff. he had gone on many respites (temporary break up) with nigel because of their political beliefs (TGE WAR FUCKING ENDED GET OVER IT), hobbies, and personal likes. instead of adjusting to each other, they still choose to follow what they want instead of each other's wishes.

so, TLDR; nigel and isaac, despite having been in previous relationships, are doodoo at expressing themselves and adjusting to one another. (boo)

if you'd like the characterization of the other ghosts/sam and jay, my askbox is open at all times!! :3

[alexisomnias]

— I admire the stars from afar with closed eyes

i love my mutuals 🤍🦢 ( appreciation post )

. alphabetical order

aly @soleillunne

we dont talk all that much, but i see you on my dash and smile, like, every single time. im so nervous to talk to you and i dont even know why DJUSHSJ your just so cool and friendly and literally a superstar to me idk 💕 your sososososo awesome and i admire you a lot!

ceru @ceruleancattail

so awesome, literally such a star. your talent is out of this world, and the kindness in your heart is above all. your one of the most friendly people ive met, and your so so loved and admired, especially by me!! Seeing you on my dash is always such a highlight, and seeing your work is even better. Keep doing what you love because i know you can never truly fail 💕 your just too talented..!!!!!

faera @atsdlura

faera ☹️💕 i love you so much/p, your so light, and full of just love for so many others. your probably one of the most genuinely sweet people i know, and I adore your art. everything about you is sweet and so uplifting! whenever i talk to you I feel better and ready to finish the day! your genuinely sooo awesome and Im sososososo happy we met.

hana @haismie

one of the sunshines of my life. i can never truly put into words how much i actually care lmaoo, your my friend from before the platform, and I’ve seen you grow so much, in both terms of writing and drawing. your so utterly talented and the way you weave words leaves my heart burning! ughhh the boy you are!!! thank you for making my day, everytime you send me a message.

khoi @khoipyan

I MISS YOU BROTHER. everytime i see you pop up instantly my mood is lifted!! your very talented, and awesome, and amazing, and i love seeing you talk about your interests!! THINKING OF YOU 💕 take care

kei @keii-starz

oh kei, i always adore seeing you on my dash. you are so loved, and cared about 💕, im so happy i met you because our conversations always brighten me up. your so supportive and kind, and i just want to cover you in soft blankets as you deserve. thank you for always being so kind!

lei @trappolia

lei, the loml… your so fun and always such a highlight of my day… i love talking about everything ever with you, and dont forget about the birthday fic you wrote me?!?! hello?!?! still look at that consistently btw bcs of how sweet it is! your so talented and i adore your writing so much! your super awesome and im grateful ive got to know someone as bright as you.

millie @poppurini

millie you have to be one of my favorite people on the website tbh, we dont talk as often but literally your so fucking talented and i just want to hang everything you do up in a museum and explain it to passerby’s. your personality is so wonderful, and always cheers me up. your so cool, and fantastic as well, i can find no negatives at  all for knowing you! I appreciate you and your work a lot…!

mika @mikacynth

mika the sweet girl that you are omg. your not online as much anymore but every time you are I can just feel the positive vibes uplifting 💕 you mean so much to so many people are your very cared about i hope you know. your very talented and super intelligent. i appreciate you a lot!

misha @mishantics

MISHAAA i hope you know everytime i come across something you reposted on tiktok i scream your name in my head!!!!!! your such a talented artist and someone worthy of inspiration! I appreciate you so so much, and you deserve the best!

skylia @kaiserkisser

skylia oh what a flower you are. YOUR SO AMAZING AND KIND!!! your one of the people i’ve known for longest, and i appreciate you so much for all the kind words you throw at everyone. i love seeing you on my dash, and i appreciate you silently 💗 even if i dont message you a lot i hope you know i do see you

vi  @floraldresvi

. vi, to me your everything good in this world. your always there for me no matter how small or big and you always make me feel included, make me feel worth something. I admire you a lot, and i think your plenty awesome with everything you do, your totally lovable! im sooo grateful i met you, genuinely, you make so many of my days full! 💕

ying @xianyoon

YING YOUR SO COOL… your such a big sibling figure to me and I look up to you so so much, more then you could know. If your the sun, im a star taking in your light in the hopes i can shed that much love on others you do with your warmth. your so admirable and i want to be like you!

. . .

this has been a stressful tiring month for a lot of us, so just know your all cared about and loved 💕

if your a mutual and not on here, wait awaiting in your inbox

[dreamsgazer]

OK SO mine isn't really a request because I have ideas but I can't write so they go nowhere and stay in my head because I'm incapable!!! anyway, I was thinking about a situation where reader and tangerine met on the train and they hit off right away like there's something special between them eheh, like they like each other but turns out that they're both on a mission and have the same goal - so they fight because reader steals the WHATEVER IT IS IDK that's in both their interest and manages to get off the train right under tangerine's nose when he was about to stop them, doing so in a fight reader rips tangerine's necklace, and basically breaks it and ultimately keeps it (and fixes it) . just in case. because they like him. genuinely. in fact she's very sorry for ruining the mission of the twins but it's a matter of life or death sooo rip AND they're also indirectly but maybe directly? the cause of the nasty scar tangerine now has on his neck because he risked his life because of this failed mission. and then I mean we all know what happens canonically but we Dont Care do we.... it's all a scar and a memory in the end.

ANYWAY they finally meet again when they're forced to team up by their handlers for another mission and like tangerine and lemon are mad mad because everyone was about to die on that train!! because of reader!!!! duh. also R feels very guilty because all that has happened / could've happened. and tangerine of course is angry because he was losing his life but also because he kinda was disappointed in their behavior and maybe in himself for trusting so easily a person.. anddd idk maybe there could be some angst because I love it and that's it THIS IS SO DUMB AND LONG I'm sorry I know I'll probably look to this request in a while and cringe so bad. but I'm just curious to see how you would continue it, like what do you think would happen, what are the first things they say to each other, how does it evolve things like that 🥰

of course, if you don't feel like writing anything that's totally fine and don't worry at all❤️❤️

p. s. : im sure ive taken the prompt where reader steals / ruins tangerine's mission from other fics as well so kudos to whoever came up with the idea :)

Dear Anon, first of all, thank you so much for your patience. I’m usually slow to answer, and with things being very busy at work I’m even slower. Please, do not cringe, it was awesome to read your ideas, and I was so happy you sent this message. Thank you so much ❤️ , and I hope you enjoy how this turned out!

A Darling Mess

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you groan, letting your head hit the wall behind you. The golden necklace glints between your fingers.

You didn't mean to steal it. You really didn't. You didn't mean to run into the Twins and most certainly didn't mean to hook up with the moustached one in one of the bathrooms on that cursed train either.

More accurately, you shouldn't have wanted to hook up with him, but as soon as the two of you had crossed paths in one of the carriages, you knew it was going to happen. And when it happened it was quick and glorious and earth-shaking, and you hoped you were going to see him again. 

Then everything went to shit, you two fought for that damned suitcase - his hands apparently were really good for many different things - and you barely ran away from that train with all your limbs.

Your smartphone buzzes incessantly. It's your handler.

"Where are you?"

It's not like him to sound so distressed.

"Not sure about the exact position, it's an alley near Nagoya station. I think I need a lift."

He tells you about a derailed bullet train and how it seems a lot of people - assassins like you, but still... people - died. One of the Twins as well, according to the info he got. The moustached one. You feel a pang of pain in your chest, which is stupid because he was just a stranger you fucked on a train.

A year has passed. Tokyo has slowly just started to become a mission you will remember with regret for a long time when you find yourself pointing your weapon at Moustache Guy again. While he's doing the same. And his brother is aiming a gun at you as well.

Shit.

You are more surprised to see him most definitely alive than to have him threatening you.

“You owe me a great deal,” he hisses, low and dangerous “You fucked up our mission, stole my fucking necklace, and almost got me killed. Almost got my brother killed as well! Why shouldn’t I murder you on the spot?”

You frown “First of all, the necklace got caught in my jacket while you were using me as a human punching ball. Second,” you add, eyes only quickly flickering on the huge, angry scar on his neck “one of you is going to kill me for sure, but I can guarantee you I will take the other down with me.”

Anger blazes in his eyes and you push further, adrenaline pumping in your veins “Third, asshole, you and your brother here screwed up since the moment you decided to leave the suitcase and the boy you were supposed to escort unguarded! What utterly morons do that?”

A pause and then you decide to further test your luck “Last but not least, I’m sorry you two almost got killed. I can apologize for my part in that, even if it’s a small one. But I won’t accept you blaming me for the rest, Moustache Boy!”

His nostrils flare, and he glares at you. It’s unfair that he looks even more ravishing with that savagery seeping from him in hot waves. Also, you probably shouldn’t get distracted by that, since the danger of being shot is a very real one.

Lemon’s laughter is short, and he nods at you, interrupting the impasse “This one got quite a temper, uh? I kind of see the fascination with the... situation.”

Tangerine snarls an insult at him, but it carries no real venom. 

In the end, after some calls from your handler and his reminders to the Twins that they have to collaborate with you on this mission and an offer to triple the pay for all of your messed up trio, guns are put away, hands tentatively shaken, and scowls mostly kept under control. 

You know they still blame you for your part in the train debacle. Yet, true to their professional reputation, they carry through the mission. It’s a long one.

Living in such proximity inevitably leads to some kind of tepid intimacy. Lemon is the first one to soften up a bit. He starts to ask you if you want some coffee. He asks you about your favourite book, once he spots you reading it to fight your insomnia. He thanks you after you retrieve a USB pen that will help with the job. And one day he gives you a sticker of some train and tells you that despite everything you are not a Diesel. You are not sure what it means, and Tangerine indeed scoffs at the words, but after that things are a little less tense, between the three of you.

Tangerine slowly stops glaring at you and once he almost compliments your ability in combat, after you knock out a goon that was going to stab him. 

The progress is little but steady, and one night, for a hilarious twist of the events, the moon finds you two looking outside the same window, in the little apartment you have been given as a base.

“I’m sorry you got shot.”

He nods at your words, slightly sniffing and making his moustache move over his very kissable lips. 

“Thanks,” he hesitates before quickly murmuring his own apology about blaming you and only you “I think my ego got a tad hurt realizing you shagged me just because of a honeypot mission.”

“I didn’t,” it's the quiet murmur that gently interrupts his gruff confession. 

He scoffs “I very much think we did it in that bathroom, love.”

“Not that,” you roll your eyes at him “I meant it wasn’t a honeypot mission. I- I did not hook up with you because of work. I didn’t even know you and Lemon were the ones having that cursed briefcase, at the time.”

Tangerine just looks at you, and you look back at him “I have your necklace. It got a bit damaged, but I had a jeweller fix it. I know it’s stupid, but I thought-”

Your voice dies down a bit and you are not really shocked to feel his calloused hand gently cupping your face, making you look at him “What did you think?”

You swallow “I thought I was going to find out where Lemon put your grave and bring the necklace there.”

You feel a tear roll down your cheek, and then another, and another. He kisses them, one by one, his lips lingering on your soft skin, and you sob “I’m so stupidly glad you didn’t die.”

He chuckles against your lips “So am I, my darling.”

You kiss him and he kisses you back, and the morning after Lemon is not surprised to catch you coming out from Tangerine’s bedroom.

Sensing your hesitation, he winks at you “Glad it happened. Be good to him, ya?”.

And of course, you nod back, with all your heart.

[bulletproofscales]

Hey there, hope you’re well! Love your work, it’s amazing. Hope you don’t mind me asking, but was really interested in how you started writing BTS wg fics and which member of youe favourite to write about? always love your work and excited for whatever comes next :)

omg hiii!! ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝ first of all, thank you soso much for the support?!!?!? it always makes me happy to see likes/reblogs/ao3 comments from blogs i recognize (ಥ﹏ಥ) and this ask,,, youre making my day.

i got inot a ramble so ill put one of these hehe sorry (ง ื▿ ื)ว

i dont mind the question at all!! even if i was a deep lurker in feedism communities of most of my fandoms. looking "chubby draco malfoy " into google images since 2012 (￣▽￣*)ゞ and later religiously following wg-writers of whatever fandom i migrated through. i would always send so many asks, and when i got into BTS i was older, and properly aware of what feedism was, and actively looking for it on tumblr. back then it was a handful of people with now deactivated blogs and @bangtanstummies (who as im writing this blog see has a deactivated blog as well :,) , i swear going through my dms is like going through a cementary) . i try to stay in touch with as many of the people now as i can!! but everyone will know im the suckiest at texts (@cookiesuga55 will know ) but id love to chat more and be more present

anyway back to the community in 2018, i really loved their stuff, and i felt like there was still room to add new ideas (which was hard in a fandom with as much fanficiton as BTS's) , thats what inspired to make my blog!! back then it was claled bangtangchub, and i didnt know how to activate my asks, bangtanstummies was the one to let me know and we even got into a discord all of us together!!! crazy times ( ◡‿◡ *) i remember being the oldest of the group👴 i was 15 at the time, some coudl argue it wasn't my place to be writing fetish fanfiction, maybe theyre right. but i found such a happy place in my fics. not only have i met some of my closest friends through here; (people ive met in real life!?!? ) but its helped me so much to find a safe place to explore my emotions, sexuality, and craft a hobby that was all my own. i dont think im that good of a writer, but i am really so proud of having stuck to something for so long, and having worked on it all by myself.

often times i feel like i lack the motivation to do anything with my life, and just all-around consider myself someone who lacks the strength and backbone to really do hard things. and i like to think of this blog, and my journey in it, as a place that proof i can... idk,, be good at things i worked hard on.

ANYWAY!! that was a long rant. As for the character i like writing the most about!! welli role play as jungkook almost daily! so i do feel a lot of myself in him. but i love writing all characters, over the years i really made an effort to not fall into a comfortable ship, because i really do think you could spin a wheel and whatever combination of bts members ahs their own unique loving dynamic.

as for things to come!! im working on a fic inspired by some art i saw recently by @gigichingado , jikook, im really liking how its turning out, and ofc because its me, its stretching out more and more in the build up ( _ _ ") . but i want it done over this week!! ps, i saw your obese tae requests, and i can definetly get something out after that (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

thank you for asking and giving me a place to rant!!

[nijigay]

hiiii :3 I noticed ur one (of a few) ppl who ships boniji on tumblr, and I wanna know if you know any accounts/artists who ships them so I could follow them to satiate my boniji fixation >.< Also, some bocchi x nijika questions I wanna personally ask: what songs do you recommend that reminds you of them? Also, what are some boniji fanfics you recommend/like? I probably already read most of their fics but I wanna know what others like. Lastly, ur personal boniji headcanons if you don't mind sharing... 👉👈

I only ask blogs rarely cuz I'm shy so no need to answer immediately...

I'm just brainrotting over boniji so much! im so normal about them (◔‿◔)

AWAWAWA i love boniji like so much like too much like its become my main personality trait!

but youre right!!! it feels like boniji fans are mostly japan natives and there dont seem to be many english speaking boniji fans! ohhh i wish there was more of a following! imagine a boniji zine in the west! i would pay money to get involved with that

im kind of embarrassed about shoving my ships in ppls faces all the time and this might get long and its just me like rambling about my OTP so like .. gona put it under a read more lol. seriously this post is like almost 2k words long thats longer than my average fanfic chapter

i hate to be a shill but im going to be a shill for my fic recommendations:

ive been working on a lowkey corny boniji hanahaki fic on AO3 and some other oneshots, so maybe you would be willing to check my own stuff out?? (if u want .-. im really amateur with this stuff despite being an art student lol) its been on hiatus for like half a year but im just adhd af and keep restarting. im still working on it frequently tho and im secretly hoping to start updating on a consistent basis soon. but i also liked fics like "Midnight and Daydreams" and "Bubblegum Detergent" and "A Sellout Night" and "Just Enough to be Enough" and "A Kiss is Not A Cure". MANNN i remember that last one fucked me up bad when it was posted. it was only the second ever dedicated boniji fic and like I LOVE angst but with how small the sample size of fics was at the time it was like AUFHAUIJKADGF. all those fics are super super good though! i also love the third one, i love the trans bocchi HC personally

umm as far songs songs tho, i guess the ones i associate with boniji most are:

"veil" by keina suda, i remember drafting some animatic for an angsty AU of Hitori living on post-Kessoku

"STEP&CLAP" by yoshino aoyama (aka yoppi aka bocchis VA <3), i think yoppi making the song speaks for itself but its a rly cute song and i love thinking of Hitori and Nijika like tap dancing to it?? check out the rest of yoppi's debut album too!! her voice is so pretty and i was so happy finding out that there are 11 songs with her voice, instead of the 1 from the anime

idk why but i also think of them a lot when listening to PMMM's ost by yuki kaijuri, like "desiderium" and "not yet" and "mada dame yo"? these r kinda a stretch though but idk!!

i also like compiling music that reminds me of them into spotify playlists, if youd like some inspiration for your own! this one and also this angstier one

i have a lot of boniji headcanons but i feel like its hard for me to like list them all in one spot because they usually come to me with context during relevant conversations?? but ill list whatever i can think of!:

this ones not necessarily boniji but i was thinking about it like an hour ago, but i really like the idea of Seika being a huge boniji supporter. like in the source material she already finds Bocchi really cute, so I get the impression she would really like to be an older sister figure for Bocchi (and probably gets jealous of Kikuri for holding that spot in Bocchi's life lol), and so Nijika being a potential love interest for Bocchi would make Seika double down hard on supporting boniji. she'd probably be the one who brings Bocchi up to Nijika more than Nijika would bring her up to Seika?? i also like to imagine that for Seika she has a similar complex to Yoyoko. but instead of "Bocchi is stealing my spot as Hiroi's younger sister figure," it would be "Kikuri is stealing my spot as Bocchi's older sister figure" LOL . if that makes any sense at all

this ones actually taken from a japanese twitter user, but they moved on from boniji after the anime ended. but they had some headcanons that REALLY stuck with me. my favorite was the idea that Bocchi and Nijika both have inferiority complexes with one another. iirc their (translated) words were along the lines of "Bocchi thinks of Nijika as a pure, comforting light in her life, one that could be muddied if Bocchi got involved with her. On the other hand, Nijika thinks of Bocchi as a reliable hero who outshines an ordinary girl like her." i just REALLY like it. it also reminds me of this conversation that Yoppi and Suzushiro had on the BTR podcast, about Bocchi and Nijika's first meeting! like nijika literally brought light into Bocchi's life awdsfsgdhgfjh

actually that same user above also made a tweet that is the reason why i associate Keina Suda's "veil" with boniji! they made a tweet about an AU idea, where, in the event that Nijika would ever pass away, Seika would give Bocchi her ribbon, which Hitori would wear from that point onwards as she continues to play music to honor Nijika's memory. they also suggested that in the opposite event of Hitori passing away, Nijika would possibly do something very rash out of despair but thats dark hahaha!!!!

i kinda think this goes without saying and i think its actually a fairly common HC for BTR characters in general, but I can definitely see Bocchi being trans

I like to imagine that shortly after Volume 2, Bocchi and Nijika would probably have another conversation

eventually, i'm sure if Bocchi and Nijika pursued a relationship that they'd eventually move in together (or like into the same room? if Kessoku Band had a sharehouse?), and since both Bocchi and Nijika tend to be minimalistic with their room decor, their shared room would again become filled with a ton of Ryo's clothes and items and instruments, like how Nijika's room at Seika's apartment is

i think they'd both end up being really touchy with each other, especially when nervous? Bocchi kind of already does this when she's in new places (eg bringing Kita to Shimokitazawa, or going to FOLT for the first time and being dragged by Nijika), but I think it would grow to them finding comfort with each other?

idk if this is necessarily a HC but i really like how Bocchi and Nijika emotionally support each other, even in source. Nijika is shown to have a really good read on Bocchi (to the point of Bocchi worrying that Nijika is actually a psychic), knowing Bocchi's common thought processes, and picking up from Bocchi's mother during her first visit to Kanazawa that karaage chicken can bring Bocchi out of her anxiety attacks, and seems to be the only character who actually comments on Bocchi's growth as an individual and actively tries to facilitate it; but she also doesn't lovebomb Bocchi with praise, striking what seems to be a good balance for pushing Bocchi but also being a reliable confidant for her too.

one of my favorite details from the anime that i really feel doesnt get talked about as often as it should is when Nijika finally notices that Bocchi is guitarhero! she definitely wasn't the first to notice (Seika noticed first, but it seemed like Seika only knew about guitarhero via Nijika. When she notices that Bocchi's playing sounds familiar, her thought process immediately goes towards wondering why Nijika isn't noticing, and then she just tells them to get back to work) but she was the first one that Bocchi admits it too. but my favorite part is how Bocchi says that she wanted to change and grow as a person before telling them the truth, and she says that she especially wanted to grow before Nijika in particular found out! its just really cute, i love how Bocchi was worried about disappointing Nijika. and i like how, after some growth, Bocchi's dream turns from "becoming popular" to "making Kessoku Band the best band it can be" which is like almost basically the same as Nijika's dream! and so it's really nice when Bocchi doubles down on that goal by not remotely entertaining the idea of leaving Kessoku Band, even when goaded by promises of popularity.

last headcanon! because i ran out of thoughts and just came up with this on the spot. but i also like the idea that as the years go on, Bocchi and Nijika in particular may kind of become more similar in personality. i mean, they'd definitely still be distinctly them, but i like to think that Bocchi would eventually start picking up more optimistic habits and stop grimacing all the time, while Nijika would eventually become a little more lax and not reflexively try to dismiss her own negative feelings via looking at the silver lining. i thought of that when Nijika kinda dismisses her family dynamics with her mother's passing and her father's neglect after Kessoku's first real performance, as well as Nijika seeming to admit after inhaling Bocchi Dust(?) during her and Kita's Kanazawa visit that some of her optimism is performative

ok another one Nijika seems to have her art skills commented on sometimes so i like to imagine she has doodles of Bocchi in her sketchbook (alongside everyone else but mostly Bocchi). like think of like Miles Morales drawing a ton of Gwen Stacy like that kinda deal but with Nijika drawing Bocchi. and like Bocchi finds the sketchbook and Nijika freaks out and Bocchi actually doesnt look bc she doesnt want to do something wrong. but then Ryo or Kita take it and look instead and then show Bocchi and Bocchi melts into a flustered puddle

wowwow this got long! sorry! i really mean it when im like OBSESSED with these two like i think ive thought about them on a daily basis ever since the episode aired where Nijika bought Bocchi a cola. isnt that cute, too!? she picked up on Bocchi's favorite soda so quickly! and her buying a box of energy drinks for Bocchi despite not understanding why at all! girlfriend behavior

i really really want to make more boniji content, i'd like to be more active in posting my fics and drabbles and drawings, someday soon. right now most of my boniji content is just illegible sketches in my sketchbook lol

also thank u so much for like sending this ask im like BEGGING internally all the time to be given the chance to talk about them! i dont think theyre like a rarepair or anything, especially with them seeming to be like the second most popular BTR ship in japan, but i do think that not many people talk to them in the english side of the fandom! theyre super super cute and have really good chemistry.

this entire post is probably like a total carwreck i hope its even readable

ill also use this post as an excuse to post my own HCs for a Kessoku Band's relations chart. it's a bonus for reading this far. i'm sorry for draining 22 HP from you with this brain dump

[lesbianatomy]

havent been on tumblr for a while but i have been rewatching yuri on ice recently (yes, its that time of the year) & ive been listening to stammi vicino almost non-stop (thank god spotify wrapped alr came out bcs im inclined to believe it wouldve been my top song for this year otherwise) so needless to say i have heard this exact song looped many times & tell me why i just realized that we hear two different versions of it in the anime !!!!!!

im sure many avid fans of the show have long known this already, which is truly embarrassing for myself, having grown up in a music school, but i digress. the first is the original stammi vicino, used in viktor's fs program (the one that yuri famously copies). the other is the duet version we hear during yuri and viktor's pair skate in the former's exhibition.

there are quite a lot of noticeable differences. firstly, the duet is cut in length; perhaps because they didnt require the full duration of the song for the part that it was included in or other reasons, but i think its notable to acknowledge the lyrics that were excluded:

With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love I wish I could enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion

This story that has no meaning Will vanish tonight together with the stars If I could see you, eternity will be born from hope

this is taken straight from the yoi wiki page. essentially, in the original this can be interpreted as viktor mourning his loneliness and yearning for a great love. its highly sentimental but also bitter in a way, even. viktor's status as someone of incredible fame and talent has distanced him from life and love, which is ironic given that he is now skating to a love song. the music naturally reflects this: cmiiw but i think the ensemble fits the standard of an orchestra from the romantic period; you can tell from the dramatic use of percussion, wind instruments, and the grandiose crescendos and range of emotion in general. the way i see it, this very much encapsulates what viktor is actually skating about: it displays itself as a very bold declaration of love, in line with viktor's reputation as a legendary, almost mythic figure, but the reality is that no one is there to stay close to him. he is begging for a love that does not exist; an absence of it.

compared to the original, the duet is much more subdued, but no less sentimental. there is a sweeter, more assured quality to it that i feel is missing from the other version, which is clearly yuri's effect on viktor's life. i remember reading a fic recently about how the main instruments used in yuri on ice (the song) aka the piano and the violin actually represent yuri and viktor's respective roles in yuri's journey, though i believe they also took inspiration from someone else's idea. regardless, thank you to whoever it was that initially came up with that analysis!!!!! because of that i understand why the duet begins with piano instead of a wind instrument like in the original; another nod to yuri's presence. there's also a much clearer emphasis on the violin in the duet!

(also, idk about you but when i listen to the duet as it nears the end, even though they never show the full exhibition program, its so easy to imagine how they continue skating the rest of the routine. down to the ending pose & everything. just soooo visceral and excellent)

whew. long-winded rant about stammi vicino over. i love this song & i genuinely think that even if you have no interest in yoi you should still listen to the soundtrack (passacaille in barcelona & kamome are in my top 3). worth ittttt

[fearowkenya]

Winds of Change

Chapter 5: Something in the Air

Shuuji knows something is amiss when he catches Syakomon let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. He’s lucky that the viscous surface of Syakomon’s slimy green body betrays her—the quiver of the otherwise silent exhale sends a faint, wobbly shockwave across her skin, and she jiggles ever so slightly in her shell, as though somebody’s just set down a cautious bowl of lime-flavored jello.

Supposedly, the worst is over, but Shuuji can't shake the feeling that there's something the Kemonogami aren't telling him.

ao3 link in source , extended end-of-chapter author's notes under the cut!

oh BOY the editing situation was a doozy. granted, i was also busy with work, but even then this chapter needed a TON of reworking, much much more than chapter 4 did. like i said on ao3, it got to the point where this chapter was so long that i had to split it in two.

i also mentioned that this chapter marks the beginning of the second half of this fic. chapters 1-4 make up part one, which i'd summarize as "how did we get here?", and then from 5-8, the focus will be "what happens next?". it helped a LOT to recontextualize chapters 5-7 (now 5-8) as an answer to chapters 1-4, and i think it'll make editing easier going forward; i have much more direction now and a better idea of what needs to be expanded on and what needs to be cut.

unfortunately, like i said, i had to omit a lot of saki-centric stuff. she is the scariest character for me to write, and i think i need to progress more thru my replay of truthful before i feel confident enough to write from her perspective. it works out anyway, because the part i cut had shuuji taking a very passive role and just observing interactions between saki and floramon, and it felt very drawn-out and unnecessary. this is my favorite cut segment tho

im really hoping to be able to figure out what an aoi-miu-saki dynamic looks like as i get more comfortable writing the three of them. i think it could be really fun. also i think it would be so funny if miu and saki bring out a mischievous side of aoi that would otherwise not exist. much to think about.

anyway. another challenge i had with editing this chapter was the topography of the beach area the group hangs out at before moving on to the shopping district and apartment complex. for some reason i was convinced the rocky beach area was like.. up on a cliffside? but then i looked at the map and got REAL confused. the beach is super super narrow, and that was really inconvenient when i needed shuuji to be somewhere relatively out of the way, where he could have a conversation with agumon that takuma cannot hear, while still being able to see takuma. so thats why i spent an hour and change squinting at the tiniest png of the map and reorganizing where people spend their time

if my handwriting is illegible (from left to right) (oh my god now that ive added the image to the post its a nightmare. idk why im even posting it. lord. im not sure opening it in a new tab will help) factory residential area shopping district woods near shopping district minoru up here group rests here waterway exit from shaft here instead; rest of waterway rock w/ supplies hill down from the waterway shuuji rests here pt 6 argument happens here aoi & ryo here in ch4 (this is where they were keeping watch) miyuki here

i didnt make many changes; mostly i just moved people around. the one thing that i DID change though was the placement of the waterway entrance. i have NO IDEA why the game has it in the middle of the fucking ocean. like i know theres a tunnel there, but surely the entrance to that tunnel isn't underwater right? i then poured another hour and change learning about waterways, trying to figure out where it made the most sense to put the exit before remembering that it doesn't matter because the digital world doesn't play by human world rules. oops! it was still super interesting though! please look up 'tokyo g-cans' if you ever get the chance, its fucking fascinating. if i ever go back to japan id like to go down there, maybe.

obligatory commentary about the map:

oh my god it seems too big for what we actually see but im not a cartographer so i dont know for sure

the shopping district/apartment complex is visible from the beach but i feel like it shouldn't be: on the map it looks like it's on a cliff face while from the beach it looks like it's shore level

i've been reading half the green patches as dense tree cover but now that i think about it, that might just be open grassland. oops. it's all trees now.

i wish we could go to the sandy beach areas to the north and east ends of the island!!! that could've been fun!

i really appreciate that the second island is shaped vaguely like a beluga

in other news, agumon was much easier to write than i was worried he would be, and it was nice to work out how he felt about what happened in the waterway. one thing ive noticed about agumon on a second truthful run is that he and takuma are equally awful about pushing down their own feelings for the sake of the ones of their friends. a lot of the others seem to view agumon as the guy who is always Staying Silly , no thoughts head empty. while i DO think that that's a genuine part of his personality, i think it also happens sometimes that he uses that image to downplay his concerns.

my favorite part to write this chapter was labramon's dialogue at the end. and also baby stats. baby stats was the ONE THING i REFUSED to cut. non-negotiable. it's been in my notes since the beginning and digimon survived all edits of this chapter, and i was DETERMINED to keep it.

all right im getting sleepy and i want to post this chapter and then go to bed. as usual please dont be afraid to leave a comment, i looooove finding out people's favorite parts, and im still curious about your Gamer Theories, especially now that i think what i'm foreshadowing is becoming clearer and clearer >:3c

couldn't tell you for sure when ch6 will be out. ideally it won't involve as much editing as ch5, but it's hard to say. thank you for reading, and i'll be back as soon as i can!

[dulcebot]

hello dulce! i must ask a question 😢 ive been following the fic community for a While but i dont know how to START!!! like idk i got graphics i got story but it seems so intimidating… do u have any advice? thank u in advance and keep being so cool and creative!!!

omg hello friend!!!!!! i am sorry that it took me a second to get back to u + i hope u didn’t think that i was ignoring ur ask or something! i will try to be as helpful as i can be, especially as someone who was once in ur shoes because i did come out of nowhere tbh………

when i decided to join the fic community, what i did was throw my girls into the tag and pray for the best 😭🙏 literal no thoughts, just a sneak peek youtube thumbnail and a dream because not only i also found the community very intimidating, but i asked myself, what’s the worse that could happen? so i just did it. and u should do that, too.

my forever advice is not to overthink. it’s YOUR blog! they are YOUR ideas! they are YOUR characters! they are YOUR creations and your graphics! because as long as you’re not moving weird, who is going to check you? 🤷 saying this from experience because this is something i still struggle with, but at the end of the day, this is my blog and i can post whatever and whenever i want. i say whenever because you shouldn’t feel pressured to post everything in one go. take ur time!

i also think that as long as you tag your posts accordingly and make them eye-catching (and i dont mean graphics by this! write/come up with something fun and interesting and people will be seated🧎‍➡️), your posts will be seen within the community

try not to compare your work (ocs, graphics, writing, formats, etc) with other’s + don’t think too much if you get a few notes. at some point you will be having a DAMN.. THIS FLOPPED… moment but i think that as long as you are content with what u shared to the community, you will be fine 🤷 just pull an icymi reblog to give it a little push if you think it’s needed! plus, with time your notes will start growing, trust!

i don’t know if this could be considered an advice but, personally, i’ve done nothing but vibe and do my own thing ever since i got here and i think that’s the main reason why i am having fun! i come here to share a thing or two, lurk a lil and then back off then repeat. i don’t take this hobby seriously nor i depend on anyone when it comes to my group / my ideas so like. yeah. just do ur own thing to try and keep ur peace! 🙏

and my forever ever ever ever advice is to HAVE FUN!!!! all that matters is that u are enjoying what you are doing / writing, because at the end of the day ur joining the community to share something ur happy about with us :) ur doing this for urself not for others.

i know these are very general advices (if you need any specific ones just let me know by sending another ask or dming me!) but i hope they were helpful. these are the ones i’ve been following ever since i posted hiraeths group profile and i’ve been doing alright if i do say so myself! 🫨

[ahqkas]

helloo! i hope ur doing well ^^ (pls beware of very long message... sorry for the long messages btw im rlly talkative HAHAH)

OOH thats actually interesting, and i agree! it actually brings to light the parallels between both harry and mattheo! harry potter being this amazing child who survived voldy, and then mattheo riddle who's feared due to being related by that same man by blood. tbh, dumbledore was probably a bit hesitant and nervous to approach mattheo abt his situation with voldy but im not entirely sure abt it (im not that caught up with dumbledore lore, sorry 😭),, but i agree that he will give vv big special treatment to both mattheo and harry!!

YESYESYES. THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE LORE THAT IVE BEEN MISSING. i think this 'harry-mattheo' part tends to be overlooked (?? then again im not too sure, since whenever i scroll in tumblr i see mostly fics HAHAH, not that im complaining tho),, but my hcs were a bit related to the parallels i mentioned above ^^, it's like harry is in the light and mattheo's in the dark. harry's praised for his power (??) for surviving against the attacks of voldy as a baby and as the 'chosen one', whilst mattheo was in fact feared from being relatively tied, body and soul to voldemort. mattheo was never praised for withstanding the bs his father did and for being strong from the things he individually experienced as a son yk.

i'd like to think that harry actively avoids mattheo maybe, and he avoids him much MUCH more than draco. draco's whines he can tolerate, but the stare of riddle? HE'S RUNNING (jk). honestly potter and riddle would be the talk of hogwarts for a while bc yk:

"pspsps did u hear that 'you-know-who's son is quite literally breathing the same air and walking on the same hallway as potter, the one who survived his father's curse or whatever?!?!?! GASP' and they prob thought some big drama would happen but no, these two guys AVOID each other like the plague 😭. while harry avoids riddle, i don't think he'd sit by if he thinks that mattheo is doing something that actively hurts people.

for mattheo, idk tbh… but i was thinking that mattheo has this hidden jealousy deep down, since potter is being praised for his strength for surviving voldy's thing, but what about him that survived his father's antics and pressure? but its just my hc, i rlly rlly wanna look further into it though!!

i'm still trying to think of a dynamic, both harry and mattheo since im not sure of its accuracy and i rlly want it as lore accurate as possible to satiate my thirst HAHA, but thank you for coming to my ted talk!!

anw, i hope your doing and resting well <33 pls make sure to drink water and eat, and stay safe and healthy!! mwa <3 - c: anon

HII MY LOVE don’t worry i love listening to u !!! that’s okay i don’t really know much about dumbledore myself just the stuff i’ve seen online since i didn’t really pay attention to him when i read the books 😭😭 ,

that’s so true everyone looked up to harry bc of the whole voldemort & ‘the chosen one’ thing but no one noticed mattheo and when they did they’d either avoid him or let him know with their gazes that they don’t like him much , which is from mattheo’s pov unfair bc he obviously didn’t ask for being the blood of the dark lord && here comes the whole thing with him bullying other students at hogwarts when he was younger , yk how draco did so, mattheo would do exactly the same . he was finally feared at the school (kids bullied HIM at the orphanage bc he couldn’t stand up for himself) and he took the chance , i think he’d stop with the harassing during like 4th year when he matured and also bc there was the rise of voldy so he got afraid his father would try & success in finding him soooo his mind was occupied with other things like making fun of other students yk where i’m getting ? 😭😭

THEY WOULD TALK ABOUT THEM 😭😭😭 and you’re so right about mattheo being jealous , potter’s getting all the attention after all, professors adore him (especially the headmaster) && he’s getting praised for literally breathing ??? mattheo’s full of jealousy , although harry’s parents are dead , i think mattheo would often stare at him & the weasley family at the train station at the beginning and end of the school term bc suddenly they’re hugging him and kissing all over his face , something mattheo could only dream of ; the touch of love.

we should write our own rewrite of the hp lore and add mattheo as well 😭😭 may i use these hcs for my fanfics angel ?? u have no idea how much i adore talking about this w u <33

[allylikethecat]

sorry ive gotten kind of behind in commenting on rid me of the blues, im going to try to catch up tonight 😅

(cw for self-harm/injury)

anyway, in the meantime, i was thinking about chapter 8 and if you have any interest in adding to this universe, id be interested in your thoughts about rmotb!matty adjusting to having a scar; if he's self-conscious about it, if it affects his playing, the fan reaction, anything like that

i was just thinking about it because, especially in the sort of position he's in, something like that would be so visible, and one could only hide it for so long. like he couldnt even go out to buy groceries or something in a t-shirt without worrying about running into a fan, and even if he started wearing long sleeves all the time people would notice that too...

especially regarding the "physical emotional baggage" stuff, i wonder what kind of guilt or responsibility rmotb!matty would feel about it. and i mean also not even just to fans and such, but it would be kind of a constant reminder to himself and the people in his life too. idk, maybe thats too much, but its just what i was realizing when i was thinking about the chapter again trying to formulate my comment 😅

im also very interested to see what the new final chapter has in store...without the mini-preview i really dont know what to expect at all!

AH! No worries at all! I look forward to reading your chapter comments / thoughts when the time comes 🤩

At this point the only additional fic that I have planned / outlined in this little infection universe is Baby!Fictional!Matty and Baby!Fictional!George actually getting together. (Which will probably come sometime in November) I'm sure that more thoughts will come though because between the Eye Infection, Ear Infection and A&E fics I've gotten very attached to this little universe and the canon that we have created.

This is could something that would be interesting to explore though- and not something I ever really considered, especially since the next time we saw Fictional!Matty he was two years removed from the events of Chapter 8 and also... he was literally shitting himself so he had bigger things to worry about- then when we've seen him again in the Eye and Ear Infection fics he is in his mid thirties and is still chaotic because he's Fictional!Matty, but overall, doing a whole lot better. I'm not saying I'm *for sure* going to write an expansion of this universe exploring these themes... but I'm also not saying I'm not going to... as we have found I tend to give into peer pressure very easily when it comes to fic 😂 (Re: this entire universe was people going Hey Ally you should write a fic about xyz and me going N-YES)

I am so excited about the final chapter! It's almost done and I've been like !!! working on it because I think it ties everything together and relates to the Eye and Ear Infection fics much better than ending with the food poisoning chapter 9 situation. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it and look forward to hearing your thoughts on Tuesday!

I apologize that this got rather long and rambling - I have had all the coffee today and got excited! Because I'm a dork and still get so excited every time I get an ask so thank you so very much again for sending this in, for reading, and for your continued support with the A&E Fic!

❤️Ally