#its so strong i have to make post about it repeatedly or it starts to itch

[lightnersdream]

swat🎨🖥️*starts bleedinf*

[qoldenskies]

It feels like Donnie always has a bundle of nerves. While Leo seems to have a more chill attitude. At least on the outside.

So I kind of write them like that.

One example I can think of on top of my head is Mant Unhappy Reminders.

Where Leo says to everyone to trust him, but it seems to the others that he is not taking it seriously. But had a plan, but does not communicate it.

Comparatively, when Donnie faced the Shredder, at least in the stadium. He was the only one who was shaking like a leaf. And teeth chattering.

He had a moment when he said “Eat science,” scene. But when that didn't work, he kind of just started having a breakdown and crying. And such.

Also, when the Shredder returns, I think Donnie might have froze.

when shredder broke his tech his first instinct was to scream and flee!! honestly i cant tell if his tech-bo activated on its own or not but regardless that was what saved his life and he didn't expect it to, and pretty much the SECOND shredder gets knocked away from him he collapses. im also thinking about minotaur maze when his first instinct is to scream for help repeatedly when he's in a life-or-death situation, its very telling

(also actually when people do post many unhappy returns fics nobody ever acknowledges that donnie also got the SHIT beaten out of him in end game when the others didnt because he was holding off draxum from the front??? like he's visibly super fucked up afterwards??? guys you could use this if youre treating their injuries realistically anyway, especially with the added angst of him having to fight all day after even though he was already pretty banged up)

(donnie being in the front lines in end game to distract draxum.... ok canary)

donnie is VERY vocal when he's afraid and his confidence is very easily shaken when he fails on the field, i think he's shown to have to fall down and just breathe through it after close calls when the others dont. he's very jumpy, unexpected loud noises freak him out, he freezes when he's out of immediate danger etc etc. he's not someone who hides it while leo usually does. leo feels like he has to be strong for his family, while donnie doesnt.

like lol leo locks tf in and focuses on the field when things get life-or-death (also very apparent in the fight with the kraang, where despite being under the threat of death he's focused enough to make split-second decisions, the line about missing on purpose!!) and donnie panic and freaks out LMAO (jumping in front of mikey to take the hit was completely instinctual by contrast! if he had leo's kind of focus he probably would have made something a lot more structured than that split second shield; donnie's ninpo reflects it well, he needs time to prepare before he jumps in while leo can think quickly)

[thedubiousdallon]

Okay, fuck it, I've built up enough goodwill with this sideblog - let's risk it all by sharing my opinions on how Amy is handled in Ward.

It's kinda complicated I think.

Okay, now that I've resisted the urge to immediately hit post for the bit: I think the way her interludes are written substantially flattens her character in a way that I find distasteful and unpleasant, but I find the overall shape of her arc and her role in the narrative compelling. The things I dislike have been well-covered by plenty of other people in the fandom, so I'm going to focus on the things I like.

To talk about Amy's role in Ward, I first need to talk about my interpretation of Ward as a whole. To me, Ward is, above all else, about trauma and recovery. Society is traumatized by the end of the world, the shards are traumatized by the death of Scion and their loss of purpose, individuals are traumatized by all the things individuals are traumatized by. As an aside, this reading is a big reason why I'm not too bothered by a lot of the world building choices that other people frequently (and fairly) criticize - I think many of them serve this theme effectively.

One specific facet of that reading that I find particularly compelling is Ward's interest in people who are traumatized not just by the harm done to them, but by the harm they've done. Characters don't just regret what they've done, they don't just want to be better, they are traumatized by it, and their reactions to that trauma are as messy and complicated as any other traumatized people. I don't always agree with the stances the text takes on how to deal with having done harm and been traumatized as a result, but I find the exploration of the topic compelling.

Enter The Altruistic Amy Dallon.

Amy's arc in Worm was, to a degree, a prototype of this kind of storytelling. She is repeatedly and horrifically traumatized, the actions she eventually takes in response to that experience inflict equally horrific trauma on her victim, and she is further traumatized by her own actions almost to the point of ego death. She removes herself from the environment she was in, begins rebuilding her sense of identity and ethics, and reemerges having grown, prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations for her past actions as best she can. Arc done! It's satisfying and cathartic, and we leave content in the knowledge that the part she's on will take her to better places. It's the quintessential appeal of a redemption arc, and it's a strong example of its type.

There's something people like to say a lot when talking about mental health and personal growth in real life, and that is that progress isn't linear. It's an important truth to understand.

It's rarely true in fiction. Very often, in redemption arcs, in personal growth arcs, after a series of false starts and setbacks, the character reaches a critical point where they resolve their conflict and either overcome it or succumb to it. From that point on, their nature or behavior is fundamentally changed - if they've grown they never relapse past a certain point, or do so only fleetingly, or else never improve past a certain point. This makes sense from a storytelling perspective, but it doesn't map to how growth often works in real life.

In Ward, Amy occupies the very rare narrative position of being who completes her arc of growth and redemption, who crosses that critical threshold of lasting, meaningful change... but backslides anyway, to the point of essentially losing all that progress.

It's an outcome that I find very believable for her, honestly. Her newfound worldview and conviction were forged in the very insular environment of the Birdcage - of course they would be impacted by her new environment. She says at the end of Ward that she had been able to excuse all of her worst behavior because she had convinced herself that she could fix anything - and at the end of Worm, I can see how she would come to think that! She's been pardoned and released from Forever Prison, she overcame her old aversion to brains to create Khepri and thereby saved the world, she's formed a positive relationship with the father she never thought she'd meet, she's receiving love and support from parents she never felt good enough for, she's using her powers to help people in a way that doesn't make her want to die, and she even "fixed" Victoria, when failing to do that before was the final nail in the coffin she just finished clawing her way out of! The sheer number of seemingly impossible things she's accomplished, of apparently irreversible failures she's seemingly put right, is mind boggling! It'd be the easiest thing in the world to let that go to your head!

Her social circle is also a perfect environment to enable her worst tendencies - there's no one left in it whose opinion she trusts that's willing to call her on her shit. Marquis doesn't see anything wrong with her behavior, Carol is trying to make up for a decade of neglect and unwarranted criticism, Mark just wants everybody to get along and be happy, and Riley and Rinke are pretty shaky on this whole human decency thing themselves! With a (not unjustified) pride in how far she'd come, a circle of willing enablers, a complete lack of moderating influences, and a bulletproof get-out-of-moral-culpability-free card, and two years to spiral, I find her backsliding to be completely believable. And given that Victoria is the fly in the ointment to all of this, that her continued refusal to have anything to do with Amy gives lie to Amy's belief that she can fix anything, and thereby puts the entire edifice of her self-rationalizations at risk, it also makes perfect sense to me that Amy would become fixated on her, on proving that she really can fix anything.

Of course, being believable isn't the same thing as being compelling. The thing that makes all this so resonant for me is that, at the end of Ward, after being this grasping spectre that haunts Victoria the whole book, after rejecting countless opportunities to demonstrate a hint of self-awareness or the slimmest motivation to change - Amy does. She sits down with a therapist. She rips off the band-aid - both the metaphorical one and the literal one made out of Victoria's skin, jesus christ Amy - looks at what she's done, at how she went awry, and resolves to do better. And we end with her in essentially the same place she was at the end of Worm: prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations as best she can. But the journey she has taken to get there gives the destination entirely new meaning for me. She's already fumbled her chance at redemption! But her journey gives lie to the idea that you only have one chance, or two, or any finite number! Every moment you draw breath is a chance to do better.

To me, Amy Dallon's arc in Ward shows that the most important step you can take is the next one, and no matter how many times you walk up and down that road, it never stops being true. And I find that compelling as hell.

[ms0milk]

racked with summer somethings

iguro x fem reader [cw] body image struggles. reader fights with insecurity post-injury and iguro wants a kiss so badly he'll let some students die. 1.9k

three huge cheers for @serendipitous-soul and their generosity and patience in waiting for this piece to be published! thank you so much for trusting me with your @ficsforgaza request. I hope a slightly stubborn and overtly obsessed Iguro brightens your day <3

“No, Iguro wait–” Pushing him back is agony. Not because you crave the gentle kisses, not because you’re still clammy with afternoon sweat, but because he is so persistent the pushing has become a less than playful beating, “Down, boy!”

He leans closer the farther away you turn until you’re practically underneath him, one hand pressed over his face in your attempt to keep him off. His bandage seams lift in the gentle roughhouse. “Y/n,” his voice is firm. Let me kiss you. Let me see you. It is firm with his usual requests, sitting just unspoken at the edge of your name.

“M’gross–”

“Take that back,” he grunts, this time slipping a hand under your arm to cup your chin. He will have you. “What’s wrong?”

“Something has to be wrong to stay ungroped for the afternoon?”

Iguro folds himself around you like paper and presses you both into the swollen wall of his wooden greenhouse. It hosts aphids in the winter to feed crickets to feed birds to feed Kaburamaru and on summer days like this, groans like it’d rather collapse than endure its master’s appetite. “Oi, Igu–wait!”

You try to force another wait out before the Hashira's breath on your throat makes your voice crack but certainly too slowly to keep him from running his hands up your thighs and unfastening your scabbard belt with one hand. It’s Hashira training week, and no doubt the corps members assigned to him are begging for mercy somewhere their supervisor doesn’t have to hear. Your fingers dig between the folds of his increasingly disheveled bandages, he dips into you again, he shivers at your fingertips hot on his jaw, he does not care your other hand is pulling his hair and thwapping the top of his head repeatedly.

“You’re kissing me through bandages! You’re in such a rush you’re not even– NO don’t take them off, there’s no time to wrap you back up again!”

“No one will see,” he begs like a child negotiating for candy.

“Yeah cos they’re all dying– as we– Iguro!”

He is at your mercy, always, you are the head of his household more than his wife, his general, and today his general feels like shit. Training leaves you breathless and sweaty and makes him glow. Humid summer days fray the hairstyles you so carefully construct and melt makeup and soak fabric and make your husband shine with life, a delicate pink on the highest point of his cheeks. Your recent injury compounds pain with frustration: day after day in the Butterfly Mansion testing the strength of your healing knee and it taking two tiny nurses just to hold you up.

Iguro moves with every strong and graceful movement of a serpent. He doesn’t bump into tables, chairs, soldiers, or door frames or worry about the way his clothes fall over the curves of his body. Watching him is like sneaking into the opera. His noh would stop hearts.

“Your injury,” he startles and you return to the shade of the greenhouse where your husband wants to hold you. He drops his hands from where they’ve made a home under your top and in the pleats of your hakama and quickly leans away to see you better. “I wasn’t thinking.”

The fabric on your back clings to splinters in the greenhouse wall. Sweat collects where your thighs touch and under his gaze you can’t hide imperfection. “That’s not,” you start, but his eyes are filling with worry faster than you can prepare sarcasm. “I’m not hurting,” you murmur instead to stamp out budding concern.

“Then what’s wrong?”

The indignation is almost comical, like you’ve committed some horrible crime in withholding kisses. “It’s hot, Iguro, I haven’t rinsed off.”

“I don’t care if you’re sweaty.”

“I care if I’m sweaty,” you bite like he won’t bite back.

“Why would you care about what I want to taste? Does imagining my undersalted lunch put you in a shitty mood too?” You should have expected this; he’s such an instigating shit. “Y/n,” he presses, his voice matches the weight his palms bear on your waist even as you prickle, “what’s wrong?”

“The list is getting longer.”

“My love.”

If frustration could kill you’re not sure which one of you it would take in the muggy summer shade of your home. My love, Darling, Master, summer thunderstorms, winter nests, gifts brought back from distant villages to decorate this body and meant to suit someone so much different than you. Terms of affection meant for eastern goddesses and tiny little wives in their birdbone kimonos.

Your knee shifts without permission as it’s recently begun to do when it’s in use for too long. “Let’s change your bandage,” Iguro offers patiently instead of letting flares of worry show in his voice, “wrap you up tighter.” But he knows he’s the last person you want to see the wound there. Hunger shaped, a slice out of your body like a bite from bread, stitches swimming in the knotted scar from a spar with a demon that just couldn’t die quietly.

“Go save your students,” you admonish with a fond push. He leans into you instead of away and your fingers spread, your palms shift flat on the chest of the man you love.

“If they couldn’t last this long they’re dead already.”

“Obanai Iguro.”

“Obanai Y/n,” he replies without delay. In the sweltering shade, he draws his hands from your hips, up your waist and soft onto the clefts of your face. His palms cup your jaw. “What are you thinking about?” You roll your eyes and bring your own hands up to settle his someplace the sweat wont pool immediately, but he holds you steadfast. His students really might die if you leave them much longer.

His greengold stare is completely disarming and you know better than to let it hold you for too long, but the thoughts truly come faster than you can keep up with them. Training week is a logistical nightmare every year and besides feeding the swaths of corps members, keeping them alive in Serpent Manor, and their uniforms unpissed in, is the larger struggle. Watching the shapes they make under your husband’s instruction stings familiarly. You don’t look like that when you fight. Your hips fill your hakama with curves no one here has and in a field that requires uniformity, it hurts how much you stand out– how easily your skin scars, marks, bruises, and stretches– how much more room you take up. It’s always easier when the house is empty.

Iguro’s thumb catches your lip and rolls over the oil you use to gloss them. The one he loves to taste and that dots his white uniform with shiny little spots now, in all the places you tried to deter him with a bite. “Well?”

“I don't like training week.”

His cheeks pinch under his eyes with a soft smile, “I know.” And he tickles the notch of your jaw with delicate fingers. He traces the curls of your ears. It aches. “Your knee will heal. You’ll fight again.” What can you do but close your eyes? His will burn holes in you, then what good will you be? His graceful fingers tuck away your loose hairs. Does he like it when you make yourself smaller like this? He’s never once liked it, but is today the day he changes his mind? Does he wish you looked like the other slayers? Slim and featherlight– the thought hasn't left you in days– the idea you might not have been injured so badly if you weren't such a big target.

Iguro breathes once deeply and covers your ears with flat palms.

A warm breeze teases you both around the ankles to remind everyone that summer won’t end anytime soon. You think too much, you’re sure he drawls before the world goes silent.

“Hey,” you warn and try to pull his hands down but he shakes his head– your voice grates inside your own. It’s too hot to stand so close but you don’t quite pull back, even as August damp makes your tunic uncomfortable. He tilts your head in his hands every time you look at something other than him, “Iguro.”

The crepemyrtles rustle at a distance in purples and pinks, he draws you back to him, swallows dive for wasps in the begonias, he draws you back to him, nothing makes a sound past his strong calloused hands. It’s finally quiet. Your fingertips find purchase in the fabric of his haori. His knuckles vibrate with all the things he says that you cannot hear.

You murmur his name. He vibrates again. Your husband picks favorites; you, his general, his wife, his master, and he is never subtle. Subtlety kills devotion. Iguro’s sharp eyes trace adoration into summer air while he keeps noisy humid thoughts from haunting you. His chest rumbles with speech you can’t make out in this peace you can’t find on your own.

What about you makes him so soft? His rumpled bandages tighten against his lips as he speaks and all it takes is one finger to pull them away. You tug once gently, hands rising like smoke from their home on his chest as he makes a shelter for you behind the shade of the greenhouse.

You, his soft lips mouth, Y/n. His own scars crawl along his perfect cheeks and tighten when you trace them in the quiet of his love. Your love is the first night he let you see them, fireworks on a cemetery hill and hiding as best you could, the rush of an overfilled heart. He doesn’t hide from you, even when it makes his well-trained fingers shake. He doesn’t stop speaking when you touch the part of himself he hates so much.

I want you. Iguro’s lips make the shape of every syllable so slowly you couldn’t misread them if you tried, the three words you feed to him on bad days like medicine. Y/n. I want you.

The realization comes with slightly more embarrassment than you’d like for such a hot day. Warmth rises in your cheeks and the heat threatens to make tears. How much more similar could you two possibly be? How many more signs do you need to believe that he was made just for you? When you kiss him you are gentle and his hold over your ears falters so that he can hold you properly.

“I want you, Y/n.”

“I heard you.”

“Scars and all.”

“Have me.”

“I won’t have you any differently. I won’t have you smaller, weaker. You wouldn’t be my wife that way.”

“Kiss me then, chatterbox.”

Iguro finally relaxes against you in the unbearable summer air, inescapable by shade, swim, or fan. He cradles the back of your neck like looking away from him would even be possible in the closeness of your kiss. In the minutes before battered corps members begin limping back to the top of your mountain home, you don’t need to think about dinner or dressing wounds or keeping your bandages hidden. You don’t spare a thought for the breakable nurses at the Butterfly Mansion or how predictably tsuguko marvel at the strength behind your kicks. Easier than training, than putting out fires, easier than smoothing balm on your scars, easier than nursing hips bruised from doorways or learning to sew your hakama just right, is letting Iguro soothe your worry with stolen kisses in the sticky shade of the greenhouse. Scars and all, the predictable pair of you.

(divider by @cafekitsune!)

[azacat-alias-lost]

The Fifteen Stars of Fear - Part One: The Clans

Welcome to my The Magnus Archives X Warriors crossover AU! This first post is about the Warrior Clans that the story centers around, as well as basic concepts. You'll find the narrated intro and Clan names/descriptions here.

(All posts about this AU will be tagged with the title and #tfsof au. If you want to support my fic writing and art projects, you can start by following those tags!! It would mean a lot)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the deepest reaches of the forest, there lie the Clans. Feral in nature, they denounce the ways of kittypets and their twolegs. There lie the Pacts, groups of rogues and loners that each have a mission or focus. They live in tandem with nature, relying on the world around them to provide what they need.

Or at least they used to.

Something dark and deep, touched by the oldest of stars, made its way into their lives. Beings, known by few and seen by fewer, granted the Clan leaders powers, powers that have since been used to evoke the most primal of fear in cats that belong to other groups.

As time went on, they separated more. As time went on, the fifteen members of The Fearful Council chose their vessels, their Avatars, to carry out their mission. As time went on, certain cats chose paths that ruined them.

And here, their story is told in the form of constellations, the brightest in the sky being a simple chain of fifteen stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SeeClan - Higher cats of this clan are typically blessed by the Eye. These cats, much to the disdain of the other clans, have merged their culture with that of the twolegs. They use artifacts, known to former kittypets as "casette recorders," to collect stories of cats from every organization, stories of strange, unexplainable things that they've seen. They also conduct scavenges each moon, where they venture from their grassy cliffs and caves, carefully cross the Thunderpath, and collect treasures and artifacts from the old, abandoned strip mall. The other Clans have repeatedly shunned them, but when prey runs thin in leaf-bare, the ever-breeding domestic mice in the old, abandoned pet store keep SeeClan well fed.

TrapClan - Higher cats of this clan are typically blessed by the Lonely. These cats focus on building up their own clan, and allyships, rivalships, and wars mean nothing to them. Their entire purpose is either to foster connection, or stay away from it. The fog is thick and heavy on the lakeshores that house the Clan's center camp, and the smooth, water-worn sands and stones are perfect places to fish from. The lake is large, so large in fact that the other side is invisible from their perch. Either that, or the mist is so dense they can't see. Cobwebs are of no shortage here, and spiders seem to creep into every crevice...

VileClan - Higher cats of this clan find themselves to be of the more violent, carnage-focused Fears. Fierce fighters, they pride themselves on their battle prowess. They fight ruthlessly, and if the cat is wise, they won't start a fight with a member of VileClan.

OddClan - Higher cats of this clan are typically blessed by the Spiral and the Stranger. Masters of illusion and disguise, these cats are never quite what they seem. They are some of the most obviously supernaturally-touched. I mean, no cat should be able to walk through a door whenever they please, or make themselves out of plastic and resin. And yet they stand. Their interest in the twoleg culture isn't as strong as SeeClan's, but it is much more apparent than the other clans.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The other details, such as the main characters and Pacts, will be in the later posts. Keep watch of the tags on this post for more silly things!! Cat Jon is coming soon 👁️👁️

[rin-and-jade]

Pulling Strings in your Veins: A Post on Switch-Induced Effects

'So, you're telling me switches can have unexpected effects beyond their intended purpose? Why would there be effects to the physical body when it is just some mechanism??'

Well, yeah i am! And it seems to happen to a portion of us despite not knowing why. It does sound confusing, like how we often view the appendix as a seemingly useless organ, but.. did you know that the appendix actually serves as a safe place for good gut bacteria during infections? Then, maybe we can start to think that these effects are not meaningless/random and have another mechanism/reason behind it?

What the Jerk?!

For those who don't know, jerk/twitches can be defined in this quote:

"A muscle twitch is a short contraction that sometimes occurs repeatedly − think eye twitching. Such movement can be uncomfortable and inconvenient, but it isn't usually painful." From USA Today

In general means, twitches can happen from nutrient deficiencies/dehydration (some minerals helps muscle contract and loosen), not getting enough rest, stress, too much coffee, or due to neurological conditions. It also can vary from being subtle like a nudge, to strong as in it can be visually observed too!

When these contractions became painful, they're called spasm/cramps and are caused by the same reasons above, added with overexertion or after having a strenuous activity. Overall, it is still wise to make sure you ate adequate meals, stay hydrated, and rest enough to minimize the effects whenever it comes by, alright?

OKAY.. but, this doesn't explain the whole ordeal we have as systems, so did we hit a dead end? Not really, i have some actual answers going on here after some many reading and sense-making;

What could that possibly be..

If you have heard about the Central Nervous System, you must meet it's younger brother: Peripheral Nervous System, CNS and PNS for short.

So, if CNS consists of the brain's and the spinal cord's nerves, the PNS would be every nerves and sensors outside of it--your finger tips, neck, face, legs, all of the limbs you can think of.

Now you're thinking, why mention this? Because the only bridge where neuro/psychological meets physical, is from the central to the peripheral! When CNS is where all commands and actions comes from, somewhere must be equipped to running those tasks accordingly, which is PNS's job.

Now if a switch is happening, many things are happening inside the brain as well, in chemistry and electrical-impulses wise. Apart from adjusting to the part that will be out next, it has this kind of recalibration from the CNS to be attuned to this part which could create peak brain activity, sending overexcited impulses in the initial stages,, pain also counts as the byproduct sometimes. Now this is where the the impulses are not intentional by the CNS, but caught by the PNS, which is why many physical effects happen right before, or in middle, or after the switch has been complete though it differs for everybody. (it can be as minor as shivering or eye-defocusing too)

Here's a similar condition (yet not widely used in the medical world) that you guys can learn too, dropping it here!

Okay, but why?

We now know what has been causing it, but probably that isn't satisfying enough for you as an answer? No worries, i gotcha covered!

We have been equipped with many involuntary responses when something happens, take some for an example:

Knee jolt reflex when a medical hammer is struck

Sudden retraction from painful, hot water

The coughs that comes along from an accidental choke

These things seems to happen without us needing to think of doing it manually, still with the examples as references, i will apply different reasons to why twitches happen in a switch;

When muscles are too stiff or loose, twitches can happen to reset the tone to its original state

It can be used to regulate muscle coordination to ensure movements are 'calibrated' (like how i explained before)

Could be due to adjusting to the CNS's output of energy/activity, especially if it suddenly changes

A response after being surprised by external stimuli (which could make sense because the body 'wakes up' again after the next fronter comes in)

Yes, but...

But not all experiences twitches, and instead felt weak or unbalanced or unable to coordinate movements or all that,,, how did the opposite happen?

Nobody's brain work the same way, that's the first thing you must remind yourself. This itself has a whole different involuntary response that comes with switching, which i also have the answer for;

Some switches have excitatory effects, while some have inhibitory effects depending on the person, some might even experience both kinds or just one.

If the PNS responds to any orders the CNS give, the CNS, instead of creating crowding arrays of nerve impulses, tells it to tone down everything on purpose to reduce any clashes from brain synapses or anything related to prepare for the next stage, make sense? Which then brings us to less controlled limb movements or balancing, or even sometimes affecting wakefulness.

Here are some inhibitory-related conditions, one way or another!

Takeaway

Just a simple reminder that any existing stress or conditions (mental or physical) can affect the quality of the switch, which is why it's important to take care of one's health to reduce the intensity of the physical symptoms that comes along with as well as safety measures to reduce any discomfort or harm that can happen in the process.

Sadly, i do not have a say in how to specifically help systems with any excitatory or inhibitory responses, coming from a system that has smooth transitions with little to no effects, so i want to hear how you guys experience and handle those moments! This can also be a moment where you guys share tips or tricks that can benefit others too, so i appreciate any contribution related to this topic!!

So, what do you guys think about this? let me know your thoughts alright?

- j

[popatochisssp]

Could you possibly do a more in depth post about ascendswap?? I love all the swap aus and this one has me Intrigued!!

I sure can!

Ascendswap

There’s a human running loose in the Underground.

They’ve been there quite awhile.

Monsters are having…a very strange day…or maybe, a strange few days… or…no, it feels like so much longer, but it couldn’t be.

Things are just a little odd lately, is all.

In reality, monsterkind has been living the same handful of days over and over again, stuck in a loop of RESETs—at the mercy of a human who seems to be perfecting their ability to show no mercy.

The repeatedly looping timeline is beginning to take its toll.

Monsters are starting to realize that something is happening.

At first, it’s only a bit of déjà vu, feeling familiarity in their actions and conversations like they’ve been here before, done this before, said this before…

Then it’s a lot of déjà vu, being able to guess what someone else will say before they say it, what they do before they do it.

Monsters are starting to talk about it, starting to suspect that something may be happening around here.

But that’s as far as they’ve gotten before a human emerges from the Ruins, and they have far more immediate problems to deal with.

One monster is a bit further ahead of the curve, though—Sans.

Though he lacks full awareness of what goes on between RESETs, more of his memories seem to be sticking than others’ and between a gut feeling, the temporal anomaly data pulled from a machine his father left behind, and the first glimpse he gets at the human’s expressions every time he ‘meets’ them, he knows.

They’ve done this before, they’ll do it again, and they’re not stopping.

Not until someone makes them stop.

Unlike other monsters (or even unlike other Sanses, in other universes), this Sans is driven, determined—arguably to the point of self-detriment—to prove himself and to solve the problem himself.

He has knowledge the others don’t, therefore it’s his responsibility to act.

Sans tries a few things to put an end to it.

He ambushes the human earlier in their dusting spree. He tries to warn other monsters to get them out of the path of the massacre. Once, quite memorably, he tried taking all the human souls they’d gathered, absorbing them to make himself a formidable, hopefully final foe at the end of the line.

That was a grueling and nightmarish handful of runs…but of course, the human persisted.

They would not be halted, an unstoppable force.

But Sans aspires to be their immovable object.

There’s one avenue he hasn’t explored yet, in searching for a way to stop the cycle of RESETs, something he’s never explored before, too daunted by the deep and unknowable source that once granted him an arcane office that not even Queen Toriel could explain beyond that it has Been as long as monsters have been imprisoned.

In desperation, Sans calls upon the thing that made him The Judge.

It’s not easy, of course.

It takes him many attempts, more effort and concentration and force of will than anything he’s ever done, but eventually he reaches back, far back across that faint thread of connection within himself and makes contact.

With…something.

It’s old.

It’s big.

It’s strong.

It feels like something that always has been and always will be.

It feels like Justice.

Communing with such a thing—an entity, a concept—is strange, nearly impossible.

Later, Sans might describe it as trying to have a conversation with Cthulhu in its native R'lyehian, screaming it across fathoms of deep ocean trying to swallow the sound.

But he manages to get something through, or at least enough of something.

It seems to understand that Sans is trying to solve an injustice but is unable, and that assistance is being sought.

Naturally, such a vast abstract entity can’t interfere directly in the affairs of mortal creatures, but through its envoy—through Sans—it may tip the scales back to even.

Firstly, it will remove the hidden stars scattered throughout this universe’s version of the Underground. The human will not be able to SAVE their timeline, and will only be able to use their Determination to start their journey over from the very beginning.

And secondly, it will grant The Judge a greater measure of its power.

This will, of course, change him.

He will have access to much older, deeper, stronger magic than he’s ever known, and he will see and feel his world in spectrums and frequencies that will be entirely new to him.

However, he will also have the ability to share that magic with others, if he chooses. At cost to himself, but nothing can be given without taking from somewhere else.

This is the bargain that Sans is offered, in the face of repeated and unending slaughter of monsterkind.

It seems fair.

If what he’s reached out to truly is Justice, then of course, it would be fair.

Sans agrees to accept the gift.

………

Papyrus is very worried about his brother.

Sans has been comatose, unable to be woken by any means, stuck in what seem to be fitful dreams and seizing movements for…days? Weeks?

It feels like longer, it can’t only have been one day, time is so wrong lately and this isn’t helping…

But eventually, Sans does wake.

There are flecks of gold in his eye-lights and the first thing he does, without a word, is to grab Papyrus by the arm.

His touch burns, hotter than any fire ever could, branding a golden handprint in the bone.

A streak of yellow slices across Papyrus’ neck, and suddenly…

He remembers everything.

Every single RESET up to that point is perfectly, chronologically clear to him. Every day restarted, all progress made and lost, every single time that he died when the human—the source of this, the one who’s doing this—slashed at him with their blade and took off his head, no matter how many times they heard him say with his final breath that he thought they could be better, if they just tried.

Clearly, they didn’t want to.

Buzzing with power and new, horrible knowledge, he asks what Sans did.

“I’M MAKING IT FAIR. WE CAN FIX IT.”

Even in so few words, it’s obvious that Sans seems a little…different.

But Papyrus is feeling different himself, and knowing what he knows, how long it’s been going on, how bad this is…

That’s on the back-burner, for now.

They need to do something, they need to tell someone—and not just that, they need to be believed.

“what you did to me, to make me remember… could you do it again?”

“YES.”

Of course.

They go straight to the top, Queen Toriel.

Though bemused, Toriel allows her Judge to take her hand—and he burns his own into it, a golden starburst appearing on her breast where she was so many times run through by…the human! She remembers now!

And she also remembers that her ex-husband is alive and hiding out in the Ruins.

Despite his soft heart, he’s as much a boss monster as she is, and by his positioning, the first real line of defense that her people have against this vicious threat, though surely he doesn’t realize it.

Obviously he needs to know what’s at stake, his full and conscious awareness is needed to stop this repeated, savage decimation of their kind.

“Sans… What you have done for me…can—”

“I CAN DO IT AGAIN.”

They seek the former king, locked away in the Ruins.

Asgore is not best pleased that his ex-wife has come to call—especially when a human child has only just fallen down and he’s left them alone to gather ingredients for snail pie—but the trio pushes their way inside and the shorter skeleton puts his hand on his chest, and Asgore’s arms are adorned with bright yellow scars, remnants of the times he’d held them up before his face to block or just maybe not have to see the final blow, landed by…

…

Oh, no…

Asgore runs off, back to wherever he’d left the human, and he must put up something of a fight, because the timeline RESETs again before the rest can catch up to him.

They wait, for awhile.

No one emerges from the Ruins for quite some time, through several RESETs.

Perhaps…the newly strengthened Asgore is enough…?

…Well. No.

The human breaks through, eventually.

Papyrus resolves to hold them in Snowdin for as long as he can, while Sans goes off to recruit one more for their group—Alphys, the Captain of the Royal Guard.

“ONE MORE. I CAN DO ONE MORE…”

A handprint on her shoulder later—and a slash across her waist from hip-to-leg, a brighter yellow than her scales ever were—Alphys is in the know and furious, chomping at the bit to take the fight to the rotten little human making a game out of their lives.

The tide starts to turn.

The human is wearing down, getting frustrated in the face of stronger enemies, no SAVEs, and…other things that are just odd.

Nothing stays the same across RESETs anymore, fights that used to be quick take ages, and the terrain itself seems to be changing. No one is where they’re supposed to be and taking a turn they’ve taken a million times will now suddenly put them halfway across the Underground!

And every time they die, they now have to start all the way back at the beginning.

It’s annoying and it’s surely only a matter of time before they give up on their quest of destruction altogether.

But in the meantime, while the war is being waged…

Alphys asks Sans for a favor.

To do what he did for her, and the others, for Undyne too.

It’s not a need. Undyne isn’t a powerful fighter, she wouldn’t be able to combat the human that way, but she’s smart, and dedicated, and she can help somehow, probably…

And it’s…it’s so hard having to explain everything to her, over and over again, whenever there’s another RESET and she forgets but Alphys remembers…

And…

Well, the part she doesn’t say is that she’s afraid.

Whatever Sans did, whatever power he found that he’s sharing with them, they’re so much stronger now, the kind of strong that comes with a price tag.

Alphys is a Boss Monster now.

Effectively, immortal—at least in terms of aging and natural causes.

Does she really want to be that… alone?

Without Undyne…?

So…she asks.

What’s the harm in asking?

Sans seems oddly hesitant to share the gift again…but he agrees.

He takes Undyne by the wrist and the iris of her right eye turns yellow, brighter than her sclera.

Simultaneously…

Sans’ right eye-socket locks open, the eye-light and even the blackness around it bursting into a shimmering yellow cloud of formless, intangible magic.

Sans isn’t surprised, of course.

This was exactly the price that Justice—or whatever it was that felt like it—had warned of, the price he had been paying all along.

To share his power with others, to give them back their memories of previous RESETs, they would also have to experience again all the damage they took in those timelines.

Damage that killed them, many times over, and would again.

Unless Sans took it instead.

Bits and pieces of himself would be lost in the process, but pieces are only pieces in light of what—who he’s saving, replacing the lost parts of his closest friends and loved ones with his physical matter.

Many parts of him have become only loose stardust clouds of magic by now, but he’s strong enough to survive without them, bolstered as he is by his connection to the entity who gave him the gift.

There’s…a bit of agitation that goes around at this revelation, the eye-socket too noticeable to be overlooked like the other bits and pieces…

But what’s done is done.

And there’s still very much a war on, a task at hand that needs all of their focus and no squabbling.

In the end—between the six of them—they force the human to quit.

Apparently, for good.

When next the human begins their quest through the Underground, they say their name is Chara and that it feels like they’ve just woken from a very strange dream…or maybe a nightmare?

Between their Determination, the power of the other humans souls, and the deep, old magic of a few very powerful monsters, the Barrier is broken and monsterkind goes free.

It’s…a happy ending.

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans)

Never quite the same after his communion with Justice… He experienced a severe ego-death and was simultaneously opened up to several new perceptions of the people and the world around him, leading to a very divided focus that’s almost exclusively outward-facing. Missing as much of his body as he is, he doesn’t feel especially present within himself, more just…tethered, utterly fearless when it comes to himself and his safety, which—combined with his wandering attention and strange perspective—tends to make him seem a bit…dotty

Has a greatly heightened soul-sense and is much more aware of (and vulnerable to) the emotions of others, highly empathic and very attuned to the atmosphere around him. His eye-socket—the one mostly replaced by loose magic—amplifies his extrasensory perception significantly, so he tends to keep it covered to maintain what focus he can

Unfortunately lost a few friends in the aftermath of everything that happened Underground after it came out (or at least, rumor spread) that he was the source of some monsters’ cool new powers, but he only picked a few people to share it with… They don’t know the full story, but it’s a sore spot for him whenever it comes up…

Spiritual, very interested in matters of the soul and the universe and the cosmos, and all the ideas had and perceptions felt of it by people all around the world—he can and will talk mysticism with anyone who’s interested for hours

Cheerful, talkative, and generous, he can be a bit odd but perfectly warm and go-with-the-flow after some getting used to

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus)

Considerably more confident than he ever was, the power boost of becoming a Boss Monster certainly didn’t hurt but mostly what changed him was the existential realization that nothing matters—or at least, not so much as to be afraid of what people think of you. (The memories of a few thousand RESETs where you did the exact same thing every single time because you were too nervous to step out of your comfort zone and be who you wanted to be work wonders for shaking off some of the rust and getting you started on making some changes to your life)

Has a new magical ability, courtesy of his rebirth as a Boss Monster, to push intent into his words as his speaks them, making him significantly more convincing. It has its limitations, as a Justice-born power—he can’t use his words to force people to go against themselves or do anything abhorrent to them—but he can influence a bit, making his words felt and persuading people to want to work with him rather than against him

A little protective of his brother…maybe more than necessary… He blames himself some for how much his brother ended up sacrificing, for being the first one to encourage him to do it, for not noticing sooner what it was doing to him—and it’s not only his imagination that there’s still plenty of people coming around looking to take advantage of Sans’ giving nature or apparent ‘naiveté’… Not when he’s around, that’s for sure

Aesthetic-conscious—spent a long time too self-conscious and insecure to present the self-image he wanted and making up for lost time now by dressing well, buying nice things that look good, and trying out hobbies he thought were ‘too cool’ for him… He's a cooler guy than he gave himself credit for, it all suits him wonderfully

Grounded, chivalrous, and charming, he might take a bit to really warm up but an unwavering pillar of support once he has  

[marcelllyn]

Mother's Day surprise

It's Mother's Day! I wanted to write something cute about it, and since the Supernatural writers weren't kind to Dean, I decided to let him be happy in the stories in my head. And happy Mother's Day!

Synopsis:It's Mother's Day and Dean surprised you. Warnings: Sexual mentions, pregnancy, I don't think anything else.English is not my first language. Can I ask for forgiveness in advance? This was much better in my head, lately nothing I write has been good, I should have posted about five fanfics, but I don't know what's been happening with my creativity in writing.

See the end for more notes. (An important note!)

The sun hadn't even risen yet and I was woken up by my husband's tender kisses. Caressing my face and massaging my legs.

—Dean? — He said in a voice groggy with sleep. — This isn't time… — I yawned.

— It's four fifty-seven, you know that when the children wake up I won't be able to give you your present. — He whispered.

— My gift can be given at another time of the day. — I kissed your face. — And I'm completely exhausted, I just woke up.

—You're beautiful. — He kissed the tip of my nose. — Beautifully scary.

I laughed and looked at him. I was lucky to have such a handsome husband, my children would be beautiful, that's what I thought when I was pregnant with our first child.

Unfortunately, none of them took after the father's green eyes, but I was hopeful that the baby in my belly would come with his father's eyes. Even though I loved my honey-colored eyes, I thought it was unfair that he only had green eyes, maybe he would feel left out.

— What do you look at so much? — he blinked repeatedly.

— You are very horrible, you know that?

— I know, every time I walk in front of a mirror it breaks.

Dean ran his hand over my growing belly.

— I can't wait to meet my little girl, little boy.

—No preferences. — I scoffed. — Are you okay, my love?

I ran my fingers through his hair, thanks to the lack of time, it had grown a little.

— Why wouldn't I be?

— You know, Mother's Day and well, your mother she…

The smile, in its decline, has always been a difficult topic for him, as well as talking about his father. Since our first child, Dean has been worried about whether he's being like his father.

— I'm fine, I promise. — He walked away. — I think we better go back to sleep, I don't want you to be exhausted on your special day.

I snuggled close to him, taking in his soft scent, his fingers gently untangling my hair. I fell asleep shortly after.

.....

I turned around in bed and felt for Dean's side of the bed, he was no longer lying down, the sun was shining brightly.

I got up from the bed straight to the bathroom, let my nightgown fall to the floor and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My belly starting to grow, everything starting to swell, more dark circles, more marks. As a child, I thought the fate of mothers was terrible, even though I loved mine very much, and for some reason I thought that feeling could pass, but I still think it's terrible, but it has always been my dream to have a beautiful family.

I step into the shower and let the water wash away my melancholy thoughts about my own body.

I finish showering and do basic makeup. — Something I rarely manage to do, I comb my hair, apply the least strong perfume I have and put on clothes that allow me to chase any child. A loose blue dress with little margaritas embroidered on it.

I hear light laughter as I walk down the hallway lined with family photos. Ross's first steps, my travels with Dean, everything I loved most was there in the photos I took.

Dean was terrible at making assumptions, thinking I wouldn't be suspicious of the silence in the morning. I approached the kitchen and a bunch of sprinkles were thrown into the air.

—Happy Mothers Day! — Ross shouted.

A genuine smile appeared when I saw the table full of delicious things and some heart-shaped balloons stuck on the chairs, our little Arabella struggling in her baby chair trying to catch the confetti with her little hands.

—How sweet!

— Happy Mother's Day, my love! — Dean kissed me lightly. — Ross, go get mom’s gift.

My son ran around the house.

—This is so cute. And to top it off we have red fruit pie. — I laughed, looking at the table with tears in my eyes. — I'm starving.

—Here! — Ross handed me a medium-sized box with heart-shaped wrapping paper. — It's my gift, to the best mother in the world!

I kissed her forehead and carelessly opened the package. I opened the box and looked at Dean and Ross with raised eyebrows and a big smile on my face and said:

—A camera! — I jumped for joy twice. - Thank you my loves. — I started crying uncontrollably.

My son looked at me like I had done something wrong, so I hugged him tight. I loved photographing everything, I had several photos of Dean and Sam when they were younger, of my college and the places I visited, I lost the habit after being so busy with two children.

— Mom loved your gift very much. — I wiped away the tears.

I sat in the chair as I fiddled with the camera, took a picture of Dean off guard in his hideous robe.

— Well, now let's eat. — Dean said anxiously.

— I'm going to have to outdo myself on Father's Day. — I joked. — Should I buy a giant pie or a day at a SPA?

— Pie isn't a bad idea. — He served me a piece of berry pie. — And Sam is picking up the kids today.

— Where will he take my children?

— A place that entertains children. — He mocked. — And you'll be able to have a day all your own.

Arabela started to grumble to eat right away, I picked her up from the car seat and sat on my lap, giving her some strawberries so she could bite. Belle, as I nicknamed her, was more like Dean, both in her temperament and appearance. Her eyes, even though they weren't green, were similar to his, her dark blonde hair and her smile with her small but sharp canines. I noticed Ross's chewing noise.

— Hey, hey, Ross, the food won't come off the plate.

—Sorry dad. — He smiled with his mouth full. — I want to go to Uncle Sam's house soon.

— I wonder if my nephew is that eager to come here. — Dean joked.

— Considering that you are his uncle, I don't think so, now if you were his father and Sam was his uncle…

—Did you just say that I'm a boring father and uncle?

— I didn't use the word, boring, at any time. — I stuck my tongue out at him. — Ross, do you think your father is boring?

I looked at the boy with his hair properly cut, wearing pajamas from his favorite band, AC/DC. Dean made us all love rock, even though Ross was in my belly, he would play all the songs from these bands for him to listen to.

— Not every day.

Dean raised his eyebrows and said:

— What do you mean not “every day”? — He said in disbelief. — I let you eat candy before dinner, ride in my car and you still call me boring.

—Not every day. — I pointed out. — What do you mean sweets before dinner?

Arabela started making cute baby noises, wanting to get off my lap, I put her on the floor and glared at them both.

— If today wasn't my day, we'd both be grounded.

— But you keep saying that Mother's Day, Children's Day and Father's Day are dates… How do you say it? Ross asked.

— Capitalists. - Smile. — Children really retain information.

The bell rang. I didn't think Sam would come so soon, but he was always very punctual.

— What are you giving in exchange for him to be with two children all day?

— It wasn't my idea, it was my sister-in-law's. Dean got up to answer the door.

Ross ran to get his backpack, leaving half the cereal in the bowl, and Belle walked with her arms raised and her steps slow and uncoordinated.

—Good morning! — Sam's deep voice was always differentiable from the others.

—Sam! — I jumped out of my chair to give my best friend a bear hug.

—Happy Mothers Day! — He squeezed me lightly, being careful with the baby in my belly. — She's radiant.

— You're married, man. — Dean slapped his brother on the shoulder. — How is my sister-in-law?

— Very good, she loves having more children at home. — Sam picked up Bela, she looked like a doll next to him. — She's so much cuter, how can babies get cuter every day?

— They're babies. — I kissed my daughter's cheek. — I hope they don't give you too much of a headache.

— I do not accept returns before 8 pm. — Dean took Bela's two bags. — I owe you this favor.

— And there's my favorite nephew! — Sam shouted, covering the ears of the baby in his lap. — Ross, since you're big, I hope you're as tall as your uncle.

Dean rolled his eyes and snorted.

— Well, time to go, your cousin and aunt are looking forward to seeing you. — Sam kissed my cheek. - See you later.

— Take good care of my children and happy Mother's Day to Eileen.

— See you later, mom. — Ross hugged me gently.

— Bye, son, behave yourself, or you won't see Uncle Sam until you're seventeen. — Dean hugged his son tightly. — And, my flower, I will miss your annoying crying. — He kissed the top of Bela's head.

Dean helped Sam put the bags and Arabella in the chair, while I cleaned the table. I tortured myself for a while, thinking that I didn't offer Sam anything to eat.

— Look, the house arrives, it has an echo. — Dean hugged me from behind. — So, what do you want to do first?

— How about cleaning the kitchen and then watching Twilight?

— I don't like movies with vampires, but can we see The Godfather?

— I thought it was my choice, after all, it's Mother's Day.

— Everything but twilight. I refuse to watch this movie!

— One day I'll make you Team Edward.

.......

Finally, we were sitting on the couch as Twilight played. At the beginning of the film, I was centered, it was good to have some time away from children's cartoons. But Dean's kisses started to become more insatiable, I ended up on his lap, kissing him more and more sloppily.

Dean's hands were desperate. He grabbed my thighs and lifted me into the air.

— Dean! — He smiled between his lips. — Try not to knock me down.

We walked slowly to the room without any difficulty. He gently placed me on the bed. Dean threw away his shirt and belt. I thought it would be something serious before he played Welcome To The Jungle by Guns N' Roses.

I started laughing desperately as he danced and sang as strangely as he could. I laughed until I lost my breath. Dean climbed on top of me, tickling me.

— Dean! — I shouted between laughs. — Dean!

He was also out of breath and panting as he looked at me with those bright, beautiful eyes. I pulled the back of his head for a kiss, even though I was almost out of breath, I managed to kiss him a little.

— Do you want me to turn off the music?

—It is not necessary. — I took off my dress. - I like this song.

— Of course you like it, otherwise I wouldn't be married to you.

.......

Dear few people who read, I love writing about supernatural, especially about Dean, but I wanted to try writing fanfics about maybe Billy Russo, Count Vronsky, anyway some book characters maybe. I still don't know! If you can say the name of a character you like,It's even better if you can say how you would like me to write it. (You know the fanfic “Just one bed.”, I’ll keep writing it, and it will probably be the only one about supernatural for now.)

[wander-wren]

small things to stop doing in your fics

(or any kind of writing, but i live on ao3. we begin with flat-out crimes and then slowly start moving into things that just bug me personally but aren’t wrong)

epithets. if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a thousand times. you should only be using epithets for characters whose names we do not know. they can also be used VERY rarely to break up the repetition of names/pronouns or to emphasize characters’ relationships/viewpoints, ie “his boyfriend” or “the asshole.”

writing out accents. please stop. you can include a couple of small things, like “somethin’” or “ya” (for “you”), but even keep that to a minimum. specific turns of phrase/references go way farther imo to establish a character’s culture/background/etc. a little goes a long way, and doing it repeatedly can make sentences hard to parse. this also! applies! to children and babytalk! have you ever listened to a child speak? toddlers can enunciate pretty well!

not enough commas. put commas before names and titles. it’s not “Hey John” or “I’m on it captain,” it’s “Hey, John” and “I’m on it, captain.” also, put them after discourse markers/interjections such as “well,” “so,” and “now.” you should be writing “So, how are the kids?” not “So how are the kids?” even if your character is speaking quickly, you still want the commas because of grammar. it can occasionally be acceptable to omit them if you want to indicate extreme excitement/panic/anger/etc, but use it sparingly.

too many commas. i’m a comma fiend like the rest of you so i’m guilty here too, but we gotta at least stop with the comma splices. commas split and independent and dependent clause, meaning that one part of the sentence cannot grammatically stand alone. if all parts are complete sentences on their own, that’s a comma splice. try splitting it into two sentences, using a semicolon, or rewriting. this is usually fine in dialogue, though, that’s just how people talk.

also, using a lot of commas to denote panic is something i used to be HUGELY guilty of and now i hate it. instead of, “I, I, I don’t, I don’t know,” you can try, “I-I…I don’t—I don’t know!” probably not that much punctuation that close together, but for the sake of example. emdashes and ellipses, my beloveds 🫶

roleplay speak. i don’t know what else to succinctly call this? i’m referring to the tendency to be redundant and over-explain, especially in dialogue. it’s a phenomenon i see constantly in rp circles, usually because of post length requirements (and i have little issue with it there, it’s just the culture). things like:

“Surprise!” Adam shouted, popping out from behind the door.

“Oh my god!” Scott screamed, having been completely startled and not expecting Adam to be home yet.

yeah, we can guess that Scott is startled, right? because of the screaming? and clearly if Adam is surprising Scott it stands to reason his presence is unexpected? why are we stating this twice?

i believe this also comes from the mistaken idea that every line of dialogue needs a tag attached, which is….horrible. you can let the dialogue exist on its own sometimes, friends. you can also include an action beat without a tag. like above, i could have just said “Adam popped out from behind the door” and omitted the shouting altogether. we can assume he is being loud because that’s usually how people do surprises. anyway. moving on.

condescending to readers. this isn’t so much about writing as it is author’s notes and the like, and “condescending” may be a strong word, but i’m trying to be succinct. at any rate, please stop telling your audience to not read your fic? “do not read if sensitive to [blank]” or “if you have [disorder] skip this fic!” is a horrible way to trigger warn. people know their own boundaries. tell them what the work actually contains and let them self-select.

i also find “rest stop/check-in” type notes condescending, like “if you are reading this between the hours of 10pm-4am, go to sleep” and “STOP! have you eaten/drank/walked around in the past few hours? go do that!” again, we know ourselves. i’m not your kid, don’t tell me what to do. i don’t mind a polite, casual little “thanks for reading, remember to drink water and take your meds, bye” note, though.

the others in this category? i will straight up not read the fic over that on some days. ESPECIALLY because, in my experience, the people who are most intense about warning for every little thing are the ones with the mildest fics, and that’s not what i’m here for.

complaining about your own wrong tags. this is, admittedly, such a nitpick, and it definitely is more common in certain communities than others. but as longtime followers may know, i’m a bit obsessed with ao3’s tagging system and it drives me BONKERS when people use the wrong tags and follow it with “not actually but there’s no tag for xyz.” here’s the thing: you can still look at all the works that have ANY tag, just the non-canonized ones can’t be filtered on. and the best way to get a tag canonized is, guess what, to USE it! imagine that. also, if you’re using the wrong tag, you’re just going to clog the filter results and get people who don’t actually want to read your fic. just stop.

[decepti-thots]

do you wanna talk about your opinions re: Drift in fanfiction, maybe?

I think fanfic Drift is something of a game of fandom telephone tbh. There's a core that has been steadily whittled away by fanon repeating itself enough it seems shallow. The thing is that a lot of IDW1 canon has been subject to this directly, because it wasn't of much interest to folks writing fic while the MTMTE stuff was ongoing, tbh. When Dratchet became a focus in the LL run, stuff got reevaluated about Drift in shipping terms, rather than as character analysis, I think. And it became more abstract through that, and it encouraged Fanon Drift TM.

A lot of fanfic-Drift does not incorporate pre-MTMTE canon for him. This is understandable, because in its own right, that stuff is not very good tbh. But much of what we see now in fandom is... a clear reaction to fanon that sprung up independently, and so is trying to pose a counterpoint to things that only exist in fanon, and the whole thing becomes a mess of self-referential shit if you take it only on its own terms. Drift often only exists as a discussion of those issues in fandom, and where the writer falls on them right now, or when the fic was being written. (Much early Dratchet fic treats Drift as something of an afterthought and Ratchet as the obviously identifiable protagonist, lbr.) Fanfic-Drift is more a litmus test for fanon than a character in his own right, even when he's being written more strongly in canon, I think. He's a cipher. What fandom decided to make that cipher mean is interesting.

I have a whole post I could make about how people's ostensibly anti-regressive takes on 'was Drift a [metaphorical] sex worker, and if so what are our ideas about that' are still fundamentally bound up in anti-SWer ideas and fandom conversations more than canon, because it's all just a reaction to fanon fundamentally based in terrible ideas about what sex work is. (By which I mean I have one post idea I have repeatedly junked bc uh. Don't want to listen to people get shitty about sex work.) But at base level, a lot of fandom's idea of Drift is basically rooted in this idea of the 'theoretically sympathetic addict who has extenuating circumstances we need to articulate for him to be sympathetic, but who is still Abject bc of all that' which I think go so against what we see of him in pre-MTMTE media. Here are some things I think fanfic is bad at engaging with: Drift is an addict, and not the kind of addict a lot of fanfic wants to talk about. Drift is isolated in a way that is not easily explained by people being unfair to him. Drift has strong political opinions that inform both him joining and defecting from the Decepticons. If Drift was a sex worker, metaphorical or otherwise, that is clearly the least important thing in any shame he has.

But more important than those nuances, I think, is that Drift just isn't... allowed to be based on his canon stuff period? It feels honestly slightly irrelevant in the face of just. How much fanon Drift stops being based on extrapolating from his canon actions and starts being a character who exists purely to serve other characters. I think a really interesting take on him needs to do something with that sense he is someone who has deliberately buried what he wants to get what he wants. If you don't go a little meta with it, you get nowhere; and if you do you get something far more interesting than the 'ummmm sad SWer ig, ratchet kindly saves him' idea. See also: his most interesting canon relationship, and I say this as a dratchet shipper, is STILL Drift and Rodimus, because it dictates way more of WHAT THEY DO that Dratchet doesn't manage. Dratchet is great but canonically mostly exists as a culmination to a plot we are filling in behind the scenes; Rodimus and Drift exists as an ongoing discussion outside that. tbh.

tl;dr: sex worker drift would be great if anyone writing fic understood it has Zero to do with canon and approached it as such. it's not canon and people only think it's canon bc of bad opinions about what sex work is. either way i love drift. none of this is coherent sorry. we have discussed some of this before, and i have sharpened my opinions ig?

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Chapter 8

GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER That's right, after being out of commission for a couple months, chapter 8 is FINALLY finished.

AND I HAVE SOME GOOD NEWS FOR THE PEOPLE WHO'VE BEEN ASKING FOR IT:

Where the Stars Don't Shine is finally posted on ao3! The new chapter is here!

I am so so so sorry about the wait, so I made it extra long just for you guys! As always, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @bibooby, @laegume and @andyssilly, welcome back to the slumber party, I saved yall some front row seats! (If anyone else wants to be tagged just lemme know and I'll put ya in the next one!) Anyways, hope yall enjoy this, and without further ado-

On with the show!

Word Count: 4,962

-------

All your excitement during your encounter with Sun vanishes when it becomes clear just what sort of day it’s going to be.

You had a bit of a mixed bag in attendance today. All your regulars, plus a couple new faces here and there. It started out okay, really.

And then one new kid in particular showed his hand and cemented his legacy as one of the most spoiled children you have ever had the dishonor of meeting.

You try not to dwell on it and just move on, but this kid…this kid is awful . Pushing other kids around, turning his nose up at snacks and eating off other kids’ plates, ripping the heads off toys…

(You really have to remember to bring your sewing kit next time.)

You know it’s not the kid’s fault for his behavior, more of the people who raised him, and you try not to hold it against him, you really do. By the looks of it, Sun is trying, too, but both of your patience is drawing thin.

You draw the line when he tears out a page of your books that one of the other boys was reading.

You remind yourself repeatedly that you are not allowed to punch a child. 

You do put him in time-out, though. And you can guess by this kid’s behavior that their parents are going to raise hell about it.

You discover some hours later that your assumption is completely correct when said parent comes in later to pick up their child and you confront them about the brat’s behavior, to which their response is an offended gasp and a rant about how awful your work ethic is and you’re not providing enough care this is why people like you are in jobs like this you’re lucky you’re even employed that makes the brick walls behind security desk that you have the strong urge to slam your head into all the more appealing. You stand there with a polite customer service smile and take it like the valued employee you are while trying to remember what temperature human flesh burns at before chastising yourself, until you’re thrown back into reality and catch the tail end of what she says. 

“-and are you even listening to me right now? Ugh, you’re even denser than the robot, at least it can do its job right. You’re supposed to be the competent worker and you’re being beaten by a walking junkyard pile-”

Yeah, nope, not this again.

You bristle at her words, gritting your teeth slightly and forcing your smile to maintain itself. If it looks slightly more manic than intended, that can’t be helped, but you had always been good at playing the part of someone weaker than you. “I’m so sorry you feel that way, ma’am. I’m sure you can leave a review regarding our services on our website if you’d like. However, Fazbear does not tolerate abuse and slander of any of its staff. Thanks for stopping by and have a Faz-er- iffic day!”

You slam the door in her face just as she opens her mouth (likely to respond with another offensive remark) and dust your hands off in satisfaction. It’s not the first time someone’s come to complain about you and your coworkers. In truth, the company probably couldn’t care less how the clients treated their workers and their ‘property’ as long as they got paid. Slander against you, you could understand; you signed a contract and sold your soul away. One of the agreements was to deal with annoying clients. But the other two? They had been built for this, any complaint against them was the fault of the company itself, and besides, you couldn’t see them as anything other than people since the moment you’d spoken to them. After all, a company probably wouldn’t leave a prerecorded message expressing immediate hostility towards its employees on their first day of work, now would it?

They had to have some level of sentience to make that decision.

You mark off the last child with a pleased grin. At least with the way she’d reacted you could guarantee that neither the harpy woman nor her little satan spawn son ever set foot in the Daycare ever again.

You do unfortunately still have to clean up the carnage left behind, though. You grab a broom and a dustpan, ready to sweep up the crumbled play-doh and ripped stuffing from earlier, back straightening with a sharp inhale when the lights cut off. Not terribly uncommon, but it still left you uneasy. Moon didn’t get to do his little song and dance during naptime because you were preoccupied punishing a rulebreaker, and you’re pretty sure he’s fixing to dish out his skewed idea of justice one way or another.

Lo and behold, the tell-tale click of a wire descending directly behind you gives away his intentions. 

“ Aww , thank you for defending our honor so nobly , little knight,” he croons mockingly. You don’t even have to turn in his direction to know he’s fanning his faceplate and fake swooning in a ‘my fair maiden’ pose. You say nothing, just sweeping stiffly under his suspended shadow and inspecting the floor. You’d have to bring out the vacuum for the carpet, plus a mop.

You miss his frown at your evident disinterest. 

“So brave, to come to our aid when we were utterly defenseless ,” he continues, picking a small bit of clay off your shoulder and flicking it aside. “But you know, you seemed to have forgotten what I told you earlier…”

He pauses, seemingly waiting for some response of probing to continue. If he is, he’ll be sorely disappointed. Though you’re usually the one after them for conversation, you’re in no mood for it after the day-no, the week, the whole damn month , really- you’ve had. You just want to go home, take a shower, and sleep for an eternity. 

His frown grows further in distaste, and he decides to grab your attention by gripping your shoulders tightly and lifting you a few inches off the ground. Your previously unfocused gaze now snaps to him, alert and on guard.

Wuh-oh.

That’s more like it.

“We do not need your help ,” he sneers, shaking you by the front of your shirt. You blink and gulp nervously, unsure as to where this is coming from. You feel the worst of your nausea as he starts to raise you towards the ceiling with you hanging onto his wrists tightly.

“Moon…” you speak warningly, a shot of nervousness streaking through you as the ground grows further away. His only response is a sadistic chuckle, and the delicately crafted facade over your sickness accumulating from over the past few weeks worsens exponentially. Your stomach lurches and you hazard a quick glance down. You’re hanging a good thirty feet above the ballpit and still steadily climbing, and judging by the glint in your captor’s eyes, you’re not going to like where this is headed.

It’s safe to panic now.

“Moon, stop it, that’s enough,” you tell him, voice wavering. After no response, you try again. “Moon, that’s enough, put me down.” Silence. “That’s enough , drop it!”

He stops for a second, grin falling a little before returning full force. “Well, if you insist ,” he laughs darkly. 

Your eyes widen and for a moment, nothing happens. Then he yanks your hands off him and lets go, watching you plummet to the ground with sinister glee.

Then, you’re falling.

You think you scream, you can’t tell. You crash into the ballpit right after, but it doesn’t cushion your fall. You hiss immediately on impact, clenching your fists and curling in on yourself. The plastic balls dig into your spine, sending waves of pain throughout your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut and you don’t dare open them lest you see that face looming over you. You do a quick check-over, wiggling your toes and bending your joints weakly. Somehow, nothing is broken, but you can’t tell over the searing pain in your side. You thought it was bad before, but that was nothing compared to now. The dull ache is burning, setting your nerves on fire with as much as a twitch. Your back is in a similar shape, as are your legs. 

You don’t know how long you stay like that before Moon’s shadow looms over you from the side of the pit. He makes some stab at you that you don’t really process over the ringing in your ears. Existing hasn’t taken such a toll on you before. His voice still carries into the white noise. You manage to get your mouth moving again and whisper, voice crackling, “Knock it off, Moon.”

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t let up on his teasing, and you vaguely register his response. “Oh, poor little worker can’t take a tumble. Too weak to pick yourself back up again? Not that I see much of a difference. You’ve always got your head down, ballpit or that desk you laze at. Best to let the ‘bucket of bolts’ do the work, hm ?”

You say nothing, not finding the idea of lifting your head and entertaining his little act worth it in your state. You remain limp in the ballpit, knees hugged to your chest in fetal position.

You hear him step closer to you, and jerk slightly when blue digits dig into your shoulders to pull you up. A cry of pain erupts from you at the fingers embedding themselves in your shoulder blades. They retract quickly as if burned by a pot sitting too long on the stove, as if this was the first time they’ve ever felt such heat before. Your severe pain and slightly depressive state dissipates momentarily and is instead replaced with white-hot anger that threatens to bubble over.

You slap his hand away and shout, “It’s not funny, Moon, knock it off! ”

He freezes, hands twitching in the air. His optics flicker, narrowing as he reaches back out to capture you once out. You smack his wrist again and ignore the added pain of striking metal. 

You stagger out of the ballpit, standing on shaky legs. You don’t give him a chance to speak before you start up again. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, man? You dropped me from 50 feet up, I could’ve died ! What did I even do to you?”

His faceplate turns in a silent half-rotation before he shrugs.

Oh no he did not . 

You explode, gesturing wildly as his simple movement spurs you on. “So what, you just don’t like me and decided to fucking throw me off the balcony like some- some doll for you to mess around with?! Pfft, yeah sure, that makes sense! Let’s just drop someone from 40 feet ‘because we don’t like them’! Wow, Moon, I can see how you guys got your position with that logic !”

“Oh wait! ” you spin around sharply, a manic grin on your face that seems to twist every meek and modest feature on your face as you continue on. “That’s why I’m here! Because for all your hard work, Management still decided to shove me into this hellhole! And it doesn’t mean much, it’s Management, they don’t mean anything, but hey , guess what? I never wanted to be here, but surprise-surprise, no one wants to hire a nobody who didn’t push through their degree except a shady company with a world record in OSHA violations and an even bigger death toll! So here I am, getting paid 30 dollars an hour to deal with your ungrateful asses for five hours a day, not to mention the ridiculous amount of unpaid overtime of three to five EXTRA hours I dedicate to this sorry place, all without a single day off in the past six months that I have worked here, each of which have been filled with your non-stop harassment and shitty attitude, which for some bizarre reason I haven’t reported yet! So why, pray tell, have you been dead set on punishing me for a crime I have yet to commit? What did I even do to you?” 

It’s a trap. Moon knows it’s a trap, but he refuses to let you get away with such slander on his turf. He rolls his eyes and huffs, “ Oh, please , you aren’t nearly as victimized as you make yourself out to be. You slack off during playtime while Sun handles everything, you’re constantly snoozing away at your desk unless you oh-so graciously decide to grace us with a moment of your time, and sometimes you don’t even show up at all. I think we have much more of a right to type up a report than you ever will.”

Alright, that’s it- “Oh, really ? Alright, buster, don’t give me that shit, I know damn well what I’m worth. For the record, I do play with the kids - which, if I may remind you, is not in my job description- until sweet lil Sunny starts giving me a death stare for daring to intrude on his precious playtime. And I do pitch in around here, just as much if not MORE than you do! Guess what, cheesehead? I clean the ballpit. I order the food, I buy the supplies, bring the books, put the kids toys back together, organize a monthly schedule AND deal with your sorry asses,  so don’t be telling me how to do my job, got it ? And don’t start up about my breaks, cuz, huh , I wasn’t aware that a two minute break in the place of an hour’s worth of free time was against my contract! I take time off when I know I’m not needed so that I don’t keel over and leave you to deal with over 40 kids! And even with that, I’ve still never taken an actual sick day off the entire time I’ve worked here because I know this is how you’ll react! When was the last time I didn’t show up to work, huh?”

Moon is swift with his reply, almost anticipating the question. “Last month, you took nearly two weeks off without telling your supervisors,” he states triumphantly, as if this had somehow won him the argument.

Oh, this absolute idiot . 

His victorious grin falls slightly at your disbelieving laughter. “Two weeks?! I’ve been working here for six months and you’re hung up on two weeks ?! I’ll have you know that I did tell my supervisors-which you are not , by the way- that I would be out on unpaid sick leave. And I know they didn’t tell you about it because I knew exactly what would happen, and it did! I thought you could respect it and let it go , but apparently not, cuz  you can’t handle not sticking your obnoxiously pointed nose up someone’s business! And now I’m the nosy one!” Your voice grows louder, and you throw your arms out with a wide, dangerous gleam in your eyes. 

“You wanna know where I was? Why I was gone? Well guess what, Craterhead, I was in the hospital making sure my brother didn’t drop dead ! I had to make sure he didn’t flat line halfway through a surgery !”

Oh.

Oh no.

Moon’s eyes widen, regret flickering across his face for a second. He takes a small step back, retreating as you advance. A jab to the chest pulls him back to the present, and his optics narrow.

“But you don’t care about any of that, do you? All you care about is your stupid reputation and oh no, Sunny and Moony can’t have a human ruining everything, because that’s all this meatbag knows how to do! Oh no, poor Sunny and Moony!”

You watch his expression drop like a thermometer exposed to subzero temperatures, red optics pinpricks in a sea of black that threaten to overtake them, contracted pupils tensed like a rubber band about to snap. A spark of something, perhaps vindication, ignites within you, overshadowing the voice in the back of your mind that quietly warns you of what to come, to back down before it’s too late.

A pity your brother isn’t here to hold you back. 

Your voice drops dangerously low for a moment, a deathly whisper that somehow seeps fear into Moon’s systems more than your uncontrolled rage.“I bet you tried to break me, didn’t you, wanted to see me all battered and bruised with my tail tucked between my legs as I ran out of this godforsaken place. Oh, don’t act so surprised, we both knew you never liked me. You never liked me or the idea of someone coming along to jeopardize your position, your life’s purpose, the only thing you have ever been good for, and so you pushed, even when I went along with all your orders, all your demands and your stupid checkpoints and your stupid, stupid rules, pushed and pushed and pushed until I couldn’t take it anymore, and here we are. Well, no more ! You knew there was a breaking point, you both did. Well, here it is, the final straw! Your hard work finally paid off, you’ve made me even more miserable than before, and for what? Is this what you wanted, Moon, Sun? Are you finally satisfied? ”

Moon is still in front of you, hands drawn to his chest, pupils watching fat drops roll down your cheeks and leave stained rivers on your skin as you smile that angry, heartbreaking, defeated smile that cuts through their wires like glass shards, words stabbing through his central processors and sending a jolt through them both. He wants to respond, wants to say something clever and leave you sputtering and defeated, but nothing comes to mind. He always has a retort, a comeback, a witty remark or a snarky comment to make you bend to their will, and yet this time he’s the one left grasping for straws. He’s speechless, voicebox pushing out low static as he struggles to formulate a reply. You don’t give him the time to, resuming with a steady confidence they’ve never seen in you before. This is a side of you that is unfamiliar to them. They don’t quite know what to make of it, and so they stay unwillingly silent as you answer your own question with an air of finality. 

“No, you’re not. And I’ll tell you why. This perfection that you’ve tried so hard to pin down? Hate to break it to you, buddy, but perfect is something even machines can’t accomplish, no matter how advanced or well-built they think they are. It never will be. You and Sun both think you’re oh-so-great and so far above lil ol’ me and my stupid human brain, but I think you forget that you’re just as bad as I am. I’ve seen the daycare reviews, boys, and trust me, they are not pretty. Our sweet little ball of Sunshine scared kids so bad with his pushiness that a good deal of them just didn’t come back, and you? Oh, you scared the shit out of kids, didn’t you? You left them shivering in their sleeping bags in fear of the very thing that swore to protect them. 

“So tell me”- you tilt your head, smile growing sickeningly sweet as your eyes squint upwards, hands poised together as you punctuate every syllable that leaves your lips - “What exactly do you think gives you any authority over me? How do you think you can protect anyone from me when you can’t even protect them from yourself?”

You let the words hang in the air for a moment, the manic grin not leaving your face as you turn around to sweep over the daycare after the prolonged eye contact with burning red optics begins to sting your eyes. 

 “But hey!” you call out behind you with a laugh like shattered glass left on cold tile. “Don’t take my word for it. I’m just the dumb worker you had to boot cuz you didn’t want someone to steal the spotlight.”

You whip back around to give a final comment before catching a glimpse of Moon. His pupils are near non-existent, eyes dark and empty. His static grin is too wide, fingers too sharp, curling and uncurling. You freeze, words cutting to a halt, and you swear his grin grows wider.

“ R̶̻̘̃͂̈́͋́ ̶̢̛͇̠͔̤̥͉̜̖̫̰̬̬̝̓͛̾̅̓̑̌́͆̅̇̿̎͂̈́͘̕͠Ǘ̸̡̻͖̅̄̄̚ ̵͖̱͕̫̋̈́̀́͊̇̐̀̒̒̋͑̅̀͗̊́́̚̕͝N̵̘̰͓̹̖̘̦̪͂̓̎̅̊̀͘̕͜ ̶̡͕̙͖̟͍̼͙̠̺̹̦̘̙̘̠̏̾̿̏̂͜ͅ," he growls. 

It sends a chill up your spine, dousing your anger in fear. You don’t waste time waiting for him to start chasing. You’re already booking it across the Daycare and to the exit. 

You’re maybe 10 paces in when you hear him behind you, wire clicking and shooting him to the ceiling. You know it’s a losing battle, he could easily take you if he wanted to. He doesn’t though, not yet. It’s the chase he’s after.

You dare not turn to check behind you, instead running blindly in hopes of somehow managing to hide. Your logical reason tells you to just leave, but it’s drowned out by pure instinct to run, get away, danger-

Moon has a severe advantage and you both know it. He knows the area. Still, you foolishly blunder on, making a hard right that almost makes you trip before you stumble back up again. You’re lucky he doesn’t do this more often because man you are out of shape. He hasn’t chased you since the first two months, you’d thought these games were behind you.

You wheeze as you bump into a wall, barely managing to dodge a wet floor bot. You can’t keep this up much longer. Your heart’s been kicked into overdrive, beating at a rate you know isn’t normal. Distantly, pain tingles in your elbow, muffled by the adrenaline pulsing through you. You’re surprised you haven’t bumped into any of the GlamRocks. They may not like you, but it’s better than this. 

Maybe they’re patrolling different floors? They could be charging.

All at the same time.

Yeah…

You skid to a sudden stop. You were just here, weren’t you? Ugh, these hallways all looked the same. Your eyes dart around wildly, spotting the familiar Daycare entrance. The faces of golden statues are smiling down at you.

You can’t recall a time where that’s happened to you before. 

Your eyes dart around for some place to hide, landing on a closet. You hear jingling bells in the distance.

You silently pray there aren’t any spiders before shutting yourself inside, leaving the door open just a crack for a sliver of light. 

It’s not a terribly big closet. There’s maybe enough room for you to stand upright. You sit with your knees tucked under your chin, eyes never leaving the door. Just in time. The wire descends and detaches, two feet coming into view. They pad softly on the cold tile, making no noise as he prowls for his prey. 

A shadow in front of the door.

You hold your breath, freezing and throwing a hand over your mouth.

A pause.

His attention is shifted elsewhere. He grumbles and stalks off, leaving you in  the dark. 

You wait maybe thirty seconds for the footsteps to grow silent before exhaling softly and taking stock of your situation. You’re stuck in a broom closet at work and the only other worker here tonight just left. 

Not that Moon would be of any help , you thought bitterly. He just wants you out of the way.

You can’t really blame him for that , though, can you ?

The thought almost sets you off the edge, but you reign yourself in, letting go of a self-deprecating laugh and wiping the tears that form in the corners of your eyes. It doesn’t help. New ones replace them and you let your hands fall back into your lap.

No. No, you couldn’t blame them for it. You invaded their space and made a mess of things. You have a habit of doing that.

That’s why you left, after all. You couldn’t handle messing that up , either.

A shaky sob escapes you, and you press your palms to your eyes to stop the flow of tears trickling down your face. You need this job, you can’t lose it. If you lost it, you’d have no other options. You’d be out of house and home, and then what? Go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

No. You couldn’t go back.

What other choices did you have?

It didn’t matter, anyway. At the end of the day, nothing would change. You were still you, and something always goes wrong no matter what you do. Didn’t matter how hard you tried or how fair it was, it’s always the same.

Sometimes you wonder if everyone would’ve been better off had your brother been an only child.

A soft buzzing in your pocket snaps you out of your episode. You fish your phone out in surprise. That’s right, you’d put it there after this morning.  It vibrates in your hand, the caller ID flashing across the screen. It’s your mother. You stare at it dumbly, making no move to answer it. You’re half tempted to just let it ring till she gives up and drops it as always, but…

You need something to keep the quiet at bay right now.

Swiping to start the call, you hear shuffling over the static and put the speaker close to your ear. A short “hello?” is heard and repeated as she tries to figure out how to use the brick in her hand.

The act is familiar and you manage a watery smile. “Hi, mom.”

“Can you hear m-oh, good, you’re there. Your brother said you messaged him this morning and we just wanted to check in.” Her tone shifts. “You okay there?”

You don’t think you can pull off pretending that you’re fine at the moment. You sniffle into the receiver, curling further in on yourself. “I’m okay, I just…I just had a bad day at work.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”she sighs, and you wince slightly, not really feeling up to whatever questions she has to ask. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head before remembering that you’re on the phone, instead muttering a quiet ‘no’ into the speaker. She stays uncharacteristically silent on the other side of the line, her subtle shifting of the phone the only indicator that she’s still on the call. You know she wants to pry further, force an answer out of you. Sometimes, you almost wish she did, wish she pushed just a bit harder so you could finally break and let it all out.

She doesn’t this time though, puttering out a soft sigh. “Well…alright. Just remember, we’re always here if you need us. Your brother’ll probably check on you anyway, you know how he gets. Just don’t let him burn the building down for your sake.”

A wet snort slips past you before you catch it, imagining your anarchist brother expressing his rage against the machine and corporate capitalism by burning down a rip-off Chuck-E-Cheese. You didn’t think your mother was capable of creating an image like that, either. She hadn’t exactly been very invested in either of your interests. You wonder if she’s been taking pointers from your brother. 

You wave the thoughts aside, realizing you’ve let the conversation taper off and…

You suppose you can let this phone call end on a higher note. You both sort of need it anyway.

“Thanks, mom,” you whisper coarsely, leaning against the stacked boxes and letting your head fall back.

“Of course, dear. You just call us back when you’re ready. Oh, and try to tag along with your brother sometime, it gets lonely without you there. You were much better at listening to his mechanical jargle than we are.”

You exchange a few more quiet answers before wishing her a good night and hanging up, squinting at your brightly lit phone in the dark space. The time reads a little past 10. Moon’s first round of patrols is likely finished, which means it’s finally safe to leave this cramped compartment. 

The door remains shut when you turn the knob.

You try for the handle again, rattling it with greater and greater intensity as your panic begins to build up to no avail. Your hands form fists, soon beginning to bang on the door, eyes wide and breathing erratic. Try as you might, it’s sealed like a tomb, effectively locked inside. 

No, no, no , this can’t be happening, not here, not now. You don’t want to be here, don’t want to be in this dark, cramped closet at the end of some forgotten corridor, stashed with all the boxes and cleaning supplies. 

Your brother had locked you into a closet once. Flipped the switch on the outside and left you alone to battle the demons you couldn’t see. It had been funny, back then, until you started screaming and begging to be let out.

It wasn’t funny now.

You drop to the floor, hands sliding down the wood to lay limply beside you. You can feel yourself shaking, bones rattling as you tremble. Your lungs burn with the force of the rapid inhale-exhale pattern you struggle to keep stable, your heartbeat pounding at the front of your head. Inhale, exhale, thump, thump, inhale, thump -oh, weren’t you supposed to exhale first- thump -and your heart’s not pumping, you can’t breathe, you need to breathe -

You gasp, head reeling, nails digging into your palms and leaving red marks. You struggle to ground yourself, forcing your eyes to focus on the sliver of light from under the doorframe. You inch back, still trembling lightly, staring blankly at the floor as the cold reality dawns on you.

You’re trapped.

No one is here to save you now.

Aaaaand that's a wrap! Hope yall enjoyed that lil chapter, seems like our y/n's gotten into quite a pickle! It's okay, though, they needed some time to process anyways. Speaking of which, Sun and Moon have a LOT to think about... Not sure when I'll post chapter 9, sorry! I have a couple of short snippets planned out already, but typing and connecting them is a whole other matter, so I dunno when I'll get back to this. Until then, however, I hope this is enough, and unfortunately...

The theater is closed...

[theragethatisdesire]

🥺 could you spare some more baseball player!jean headcanons pls…

uh YEAH i forgot about this blast from the past!!!! i can def pull a few out lemme see....

picks you up and slings you over his shoulder 24/7 just to remind both of you how strong he is (and how small you are to him)

brings your mother flowers the first time he meets her bc he's a good ole boy and he knows better than to not

gets you a little chain with his jersey number to wear around your neck :')

on that note, he spoils you. like, bad. never shows up to your house empty handed, even if its just a candy bar. drops easily over $1,000 every holiday

but you spoil him back

with his crazy student-athlete-rising star schedule, jean loves how you always have your fridge stocked with protein shakes, healthy snacks, and ice packs for him to come collapse on your couch and indulge in after a long day of workouts and practice

swears he'll repay you for the thousands of massages you've given him (he tries, but the margin is just too wide at this point)

gets you a full-service voucher for a local spa once a month to start making up for the amount of babying you do to him lol

def has like 300K followers on instagram for being a hot college baseball player, but makes a point to post you often so all his fans know that he's still taken <3

keeps a little item of yours, whether it be a stretchy beaded bracelet, a hair tie, a movie ticket from your first date, in the pocket of his pants at all times- "for good luck"

never shuts up about you in interviews

when he's repeatedly interviewed by espn about the pro teams scouting him, he finds a way to bring you up at every turn

to the point where you two become a bit of a viral item after several videos of jean pointing and winking at you from the field and running up to kiss you over the stands after the game make their rounds on Tik Tok

determined to go pro so he can give you the life he's always dreamed of: travel abundant and enough money to make sure you never want for anything again

i just LOVE pro baseball player!jean, but this is obvi the early iterations of him in college. he's just a lover boy disguised as a heartthrob, who loves to baby you as much as you baby him <3 precious!

[liljplibrary]

Autumn Leaves, Picturesque in their Fall (Part 1 - Problem)

(Illustration by アオジマイコ from Mysteries! Vol. 99)

Autumn Leaves, 

Picturesque in Their Fall

By Maya Yutaka

From the anthology "You Are The Great Detective, Too" 1

“I’d assumed this inn would be an old-fashioned hot spring, being called Nakano Springs and all, but it looks pretty modern.” 

Umino Nakamichi stepped off the shuttle bus and, having got on his tiptoes and stretched himself as tall as he could go, muttered absent-mindedly.

Within the mountains, blanketed under the red autumnal leaves, a cozy two story building peeked out into view. Its roof was sky blue and its wooden walls were an earthy yellow. Its window frames were white and its posts a charred brown. Even putting aside the age of the building, the trendy exterior resembled a Western boarding house more than a traditional Japanese ryokan. Though the building was new, the hot spring itself was old enough, having been popular since the Edo period. 

From the deserted station in Mimasaka district, the mini bus had rumbled along for around 20 minutes. It passed through the rustic hot spring town, and exited the one-way, single-lane highway onto a branch road. The bus finally arrived at its destination just as Umino was starting to grow worried that they were just intently following the winding mountain road without actually heading anywhere.

“What are you talking about? I gave you the brochure.”

Saitozaki Mitsuru looked at Umino, annoyed. He was the sponsor of this graduation trip.

Though the group were all fourth year students in the same seminar, Saitozaki was the leaderly type who always took charge of everything. In addition to his serious personality, he was sporty so professors put a great deal of trust in him due to his strong physique and willingness to take initiative. He’d even thrown himself into making a brochure by hand.

“My bad, Saitozaki. I don’t have any interest whatsoever in hot springs, so that totally slipped my mind.”

Umino was unenthusiastic: hot spring trips are for old geezers and, since this is a graduation trip, there should have been plenty of other options. But, since everyone else had jumped on Saitozaki’s proposal, there was nothing for it but to go along.

“I didn’t give it a good look over, either. Don’t take it the wrong way, Saitozaki; since you picked the place, I figured it was a sure bet.”

Kashii Daichi joked from behind Umino. Kashii was short and plump so his eyes, nose, the contours of his face, his glasses… All of him had soft edges like aged tofu. He was a charming, baby faced man with a knack for putting people at ease.

“Seriously? I appreciate you putting your faith in me but I went to so much effort putting it all together – printing it out and such. The least you could do is give it a once over.” Saitozaki said with a wry smile, his face darkened by sunburn.

“Sorry, sorry.” Still smiling, Kashii put his hands together above his head in supplication. 

“I read it over from beginning to end! Hot springs! Then food! The wagyu beef from Mimasaka sounded so good. Then, after that was… Now that I think about it, the rooms aren’t Japanese-style; they have beds. See, I remember it all perfectly!”

Wajiro Satomi, having taken her time getting off the bus, piped up in her husky voice. She was clad in a knit shirt and wide-leg pants. On top of being short, she wore her hair in a childish bob and, as a result, she appeared younger than she really was so – in town – she’d been repeatedly approached by volunteer truancy officers. 

“I apologise that it doesn’t live up to expectations.”

Perhaps having heard the group's conversation, the mid-30’s bus driver hung his head apologetically. He’d introduced himself as Doi, the proprietor of Nakano Springs back at the station.

“It used to be an old fashioned hot-spring inn like I’m sure you must have been imagining but, five years ago, it had to be rebuilt due to intense deterioration.”

“We’re sorry. We didn’t mean anything like that.”

Before Umino had a chance to apologise, Saitozaki did so in his place. He was just like a teacher taking charge of his class.

“Please, don’t worry about it. Everyone says so. But my prized hot spring still retains an old fashioned atmosphere. When you see it, you’ll probably switch to thinking it’s too old.”

The creases at the corners of Doi’s eyes crinkled as he laughed magnanimously and unlocked the front door. The lights of the entrance hall switched on.

“The proprietress had to return home to give birth so, right now, I’m handling everything by myself. And the kid who works here part-time is on break until the day after tomorrow. Since all the work is being done with a man’s touch, it’s probably less than adequate.”

That explained why the inn was locked up.

“Ah, please look forward to my cooking. Up until I inherited the inn seven years ago, I was training to be a chef at an upscale Japanese restaurant in Kyoto. Before picking you up, I stocked up on good meat and mushrooms in town.”

“We’ll look forward to it. As expected, the food is the true reward of coming to this region.”

Gannosu Ayana cheered as she removed her high-heeled pumps. Her long, white legs protruded from her tight skirt. Perhaps out of car sickness, Ayana had been silent the whole ride over. She must have recovered slightly now that she was off the bus. This beauty – with her long, pink-brown hair worn in gentle curls flowing around her perfectly portioned face – had  made it to the final round of the beauty contest at the university’s school festival. 

A large travelling bag sat upon the floor beside her. Even though the trip was only two nights and three days, it was large enough to fit Ayana herself in – slender as she was – and she’d struggled to move it when they switched vehicles at the station. 

In contrast, Satomi had stuffed everything into an undersized Boston bag which she shouldered as she took off her shoes.

“I’m the opposite. If I’m taking my time relaxing in the hot springs, I’m fine with eating anything.”

Nata Yasuo absent mindedly let loose those blunt words. He was a scrawny man with plain features, buried in a down coat – perhaps he was sensitive to the cold. He looked like he was greeting winter earlier than everyone else.

“You’re always acting like an old geezer, huh.” Umino ribbed him.

“It’s not that I’m an old geezer, I’m just the indoorsy type. Make no mistake, an onsen is the ultimate form of being indoors. Beauty, health, hygiene, stress relief, light exercise, stretching, playing games on your phone – you can do it all from within an onsen.”

Nata prattled on and on, espousing his pet theory.

“Isn’t your definition of ‘indoors’ a little off? Besides, the baths here are open-air.” Saitozaki voiced his doubts in a dubious tone.

“I know that. Since I actually read the pamphlet. It’s a famous open-air bath surrounded by autumn leaves. You can even admire nature from inside the onsen. I’m excited just from seeing the photos!”

Nata stared back at Saitozaki with clear interest. Nata often got heated so no-one else pressed him any further.

There were six people on the graduation trip. Another fourth year, a girl called Matsubara Mai, had planned to join them but she’d suddenly cancelled a week prior. She hadn’t given a detailed explanation why. It seems she’d just sent Saitozaki an email informing him that she was going back to her family home. Between the childlike Satomi and the gorgeous Ayana, she always seemed quite meek so abruptly cancelling via a single email was abnormal. The group was worried that she’d gotten into some serious trouble but none of them had any clue what it could be.

The proprietor handed each guest the key to their rooms as they changed into the slippers at the shoe rack. The guest rooms were on the second floor, each housed two people to a room. Umino was in Room 203 with Saitozaki. Within the guest rooms were two beds. The keys to the rooms’ cylinder locks each had a wooden tag with the room number written on it tied to them, as if the tag was the bearer’s proof of entry. Even though the building was stylish, the keys felt old-fashioned. Moreover, it appeared there wasn’t an autolock. It felt subtly ill fitting.

The two girls, Satomi and Ayana, were in Room 201. Nata and Kashii were in Room 202. Nakano Springs had no more than four rooms in total and the room next to Umino, Room 204, was taken for the night by two men who had been riding the shuttle bus alongside Umino’s group. 

The two men were both roughly 30 years old with similar slender physiques standing at around 1.7 metres tall. Their clothes, however, were markedly different: one wore a fitted suit while the other wore an open-necked shirt. It felt unlikely that two men would go on a hot spring trip together but perhaps it was a recent trend. 

Umino’s group had most likely shared the train with them but he couldn’t recall the other passengers that well. On the bus, the two of them had sat at the very back and whispered to each other in low voices that only they could hear. The racket that the six students were making definitely didn’t help matters. Still, from the desperate expression that occasionally flashed across the man in the open-necked shirt’s face, it seemed like it was an enticing private chat they were holding.

“It’s written that this is the site of a small hokora shrine to the god Chyulhu.”

Having finished writing the group down in the inn’s guest register, Saitozaki struck up a conversation with Doi.

“Ah, I also glanced over that in the brochure. It sounded like a zashiki warashi spirit. Is the shrine nearby?” Satomi, who had taken up a spot beside Saitozaki, asked with a hopeful gaze.

“I’m also interested in that. After the hot spring.” Nata agreed as he carefully placed his key in his waist-pouch.

Since he’s a nervous guy, he walked around with anything important (such as his wallet or his mobile phone) kept within his zipped up waist pouch. Despite his serious personality, Saitozaki was slightly tactless and – in contrast – he’d carelessly shoved his key into his back pocket with the wooden tag still hanging out. That being said, Umino and Kashii both casually slipped their key into their coat pockets, too. 

Unlike Nata and Satomi, Ayana and Kashii both said ‘what’s that?’ with a blank stare as if they’d heard nothing about it. Umino was with them.

“Chyulhu’s shrine is behind the inn. It’s nothing like a Zashiki Warashi, though… If you’re not too tired, I’ll guide you there after you drop off your luggage in your rooms.”

Doi replied amiably as he presented the two men with the guest register.

“Really? Thank you so much.”

“If it’s alright with you, may we also tag along?”

One of the two men butted in, curious. It was the sharp looking one wearing glasses and a suit as if he was on his way to work.

“I’m slightly interested in this god you call Chyulhu.” 

Turning to Saitozaki and the proprietor, the man spoke in a calm, clear voice.

“Oi, Ki... Kasu. At times like this, you need to read the room!”

His companion in the open-necked shirt blurted out. Doi turned to the students, leaving the decision to them.

“That’s absolutely no problem. Isn’t it?”

The first to respond was Satomi. She replied quickly.

“The more the merrier, right?”

Kashii nodded. His smile was wide enough to squint his eyes shut behind his glasses.

“Well, if we went separately, Doi would have to make two trips out, after all.”

Saitozaki, as the leader, concluded and resolved the conversation. Of course, Umino had no objections. He was starting to grow far more interested in these two mysterious men than Chyulhu.

“How about it, Tojo-kun. I presume you’ll come along too. For future reference.”

“Good grief. You can’t just decide these things by yourself…”

The man sounded somewhat disgruntled but Ido puffed out his chest and added ‘the scenery there is also breathtaking. The scale of autumn foliage is even beyond what you can see in Kyoto, after that his interest abruptly started to perk up and he replied with a curious ‘is that so.’ 

“Beyond Kyoto, huh? Certainly, even the autumn leaves just around here are amazing, so my expectations for this view have been set quite high. And since we’ve come all this way… Ah, right, I’m Tojo and this Kasu. Nice to meet you.”

As soon as he’d cheered up, his mood became immediately affable.

Umino and his friends also introduced themselves. In the process, they came to find that Tojo was far more sociable than Kasu even though he’d been the first to butt in. Nevertheless, Kasu spoke courteously with the students and, as a result, that initially promising mysterious atmosphere was – unfortunately – somewhat diluted.

The guest rooms on the second floor had cottage-style wooden interiors with a gap between the two beds. The room was filled with a relaxed atmosphere thanks to its casual interior design, the high ceiling and the ample natural light coming through the veranda’s sliding door.  However, the fact that there was no bathroom inside the room – there was a communal washbasin and toilet on the second floor – spoke to the inn’s history.

“Thank goodness! It’s more comfortable than I thought it would be.”

Glancing around the room, Saitozaki cheerfully voiced his relief.

“It definitely has a good vibe. But you usually find us a good place, Saitozaki – Just like last year. Are you some kind of Trip Guru? You should get a job at a travel agency some time.”

“I’m only passionate about it because it’s a hobby.”

Saitozaki, who was already set to work at a trading company, humbly brushed off the compliment with a wry smile.

As for Umino, he wanted to throw himself down on the soft bed – just like that – and relieve his exhaustion from the long trip. However, he’d already decided to go check out Chyulhu with the others. He wasn’t the kind of egoistic person to split off from the group and do his own thing. He reluctantly returned his key to his pocket and returned to the entrance.

“Well, then. Shall we head out?”

Ten minutes later, everyone had gathered at the entrance. One by one they lined up behind Doi to let him guide them. The usual two were at the very back.

They exited the front door of Nakano Springs and went around the side of the building. Since there were no fences or such demarcating the grounds, the outside of the building blended into the mountains. Having followed the grey, concrete path for a while, they came across a tall wooden fence at the rear of the inn. Steam was rising up from behind the fence and so they figured this was the rear bath. A little further on, where the path split and the fence ended, was the small, wooden hokora shrine.

The shrine was roughly waist-high, clearly old and with cracked supports. The colours it had once been painted had faded and cracked in the heat, leaving its whole body somewhere between charred brown and ash grey. A comparatively new plaque which simply read ‘Chyulhu’ had been attached to the front.

The surrounding grass had been neatly trimmed and a vase full of white camellias, their leaves removed but with their stems still attached, had been placed in front of the shrine. 

Unlike the impression the group had been given, it was the kind of crude shrine you could probably find anywhere. 

“This is Chyulhu-sama’s shrine?”

Ayana must have felt similarly because she asked the question with blatant disappointment.

“There is a small grotto behind the shrine that runs through the earth to another shrine above.”

It seemed that Doi had expected that response because he began explaining like a good guide should. Apparently, there are two shrines to Chyulhu – the other one being at the top of the mountain. Chyulhu usually spends its time in its Heavenly Shrine atop the mountain and only when it appears before humans does it come out of the grotto at the Earthly Shrine and descend to the village below.

Certainly, there was a grotto of a little under 1 metre tall delving into the mountain  hidden behind the shrine, as if the shrine had been built to block it up. However, even just by looking at the entrance, the grotto immediately became too narrow that it was incredibly doubtful a human could pass through it. 

“Now I’ll take you to the Heavenly Shrine. The path there is a little steep so please be careful.”

As Doi had indicated, there was a staircase beyond the shrine. However, just like the path, the stairs were also roughly coated in cement.

“No way! I should have brought along shoes that are easier to walk in.” The pumps-wearing Ayana complained.

She hadn’t brought a change of shoes – On the other hand, just what on Earth could be in that massive travel bag?

“This was clearly covered in Saitozaki’s brochure. You must have only read the bits about the food and the hot springs, Ayana.” Satomi, who was wearing sneakers, pointed out.

“Obviously! If I’d already seen every nook and cranny, I wouldn’t have any reason to actually come here.”

Ayana turned away from Satomi with a pointed frown.

“I had no idea about Chyulhu but why would you bring pumps to a mountain inn in the first place?” Kashii pointed out with a smug expression.

“What? You’ve got nothing to do with pumps, Kashii-kun. Or, perhaps, you want to wear mine?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Kashii, who had merely been stirring the pot, violently ducked his head.

Roughly five minutes later they landed on a similarly paved ascending mountain path. From here, the ascent was far gentler than the stairs up until now. After about 10 minutes of meandering up the mountain, a handmade information board came into view. 

‘Observation Deck and Chyulhu Shrine.’

Directly in front of the tree the information board was hung from, an unpaved road split off to the right. 

“Isn’t it this way?”

It looked like Doi was going to continue onwards without saying anything so Umino called out to him.

“There’s another turn-off up ahead that’s paved like this road. It’ll be easier to walk if we take that one.”

Just as Doi had explained, after around five more metres, there was another fork in the path. A similar information board had been suspended from a branch. Immediately after three metres, the path turned to naked dirt and, once again, became a simple unpaved road. 

“That part, alone, had its paving destroyed in an earthquake three years ago.”

Doi took the turn-off. Though the path up the mountain continued onwards because the paving stopped here, if anything, it felt like the path to the shrine was the main road and the path up the mountain was the side road. In other words, the path that would take you up to around the summit of the mountain had become no different to an animal trail. 

“This is so confusing. Why are there two paths?”

“You can take either one to the shrine but since the previous path has been used since the olden days, it’s a little more precipitous – though, in exchange, it has a great view. This one is an alternate route but, despite being a detour, it’s easier to walk.”

Ah, of course, he was probably concerned about Ayana in her high heels. Said ‘person of concern’, herself, cheerfully chimed in saying  “this way is definitely more fun” while feigning ignorance.

They repeatedly walked up and down the gentle slope for 15 minutes. Suddenly, their field of view which had been blanketed by dense foliage from every side opened up and a flurry of deep red autumn leaves sprang up before their eyes. It was as if a TV had been abruptly switched on in a dark room. 

Among the autumn leaves was a sharp, V-shaped observation deck with a conspicuously rusty iron railing, and beyond that railing was a sheer cliff. About 20 metres down, a river flowed – however the cliff face was dotted with flat protrusions to the bottom of the ravine. Only an alpaca could scale it.

If you put your hands on the railing and look down, a wide panorama unfolds before your eyes. A village nestled among the mountains dyed red by autumn leaves. A dazzling diorama. Even while riding the shuttle bus, Nakano Springs had also been blanketed in autumn leaves. Nevertheless, the view lacked those dynamic undulations and was somehow disappointing. It was like switching from 3D virtual reality to a flat picture…

That’s what Umino thought, anyway. .

He muttered this outright but Saitozaki and Satomi were already around him and everyone was cheering with delight.

Even Ayana, who was sick and tired of the mountain path, bent herself over the railing. Even though – unlike the alternate route they’d been taking – the path right before the observation deck was unpaved, bare dirt, it was as if she’d forgotten all about her feet’s suffering.

Under the circumstances, it would be embarrassing for Umino to say something now.

“Aren’t you moved? By this view, I mean.”

While Umino was hesitating, Tojo called out from behind him.

“I am. But it’s lacking something. Perhaps a bit more stimulation. Enough to satisfy my current boredom.”

“Your boredom?”

“Yeah. I’d thought going to university would somehow be more exciting but, as it turns out, not so much.”

“I heard this was a trip to celebrate graduating your seminar, though. Well, then, I figure you’ve already got a job locked in.”

“Pretty much, and at my father’s company, at that.”

He was neither showing off nor boasting. It would be no exaggeration to say that he didn’t have to deal with the hassle of things like job hunting because, in a sense, his path in life had already been decided since before he’d enrolled. He’d thought that he might find another track he could switch to if he went to university but, in the end, it had passed as nothing more than an ordinary moratorium. 

Nata was going onto postgraduate study but, though they were all on different paths, the other five had all received tentative offers of employment. They just needed to finish their bachelor's theses. As such, this trip was essentially a farewell party. Even though Kashii hadn’t completed enough credits to graduate.

“So, then, you’re living a life lacking in stimulation in exchange for stability. When I was in university, I went through all kinds of troubles. Well, not that that’s changed now. So, on the contrary, I’m jealous of you.”

Tojo wasn’t being snide. Though, on the other hand, it didn’t seem like he was genuinely envious of Umino.

“So, then, Chyulhu-sama’s Heavenly Shrine is over there.”

Sensing the appropriate time had come, Doi caught the group’s attention.

Chyulhu’s shrine was opposite and across from the observation deck, in other words, it had been built facing the grand panorama. The Heavenly Shrine was a size bigger than the Earthly Shrine below and built out of stone so, even though it had been built in the same shoddy style, the moss covered sections gave it a sense of antiquity. The same kind of Camellias had been offered here too.

Just like the wooden shrine below, the mouth of a cavern opened up with the stone shrine’s depths. This one seemed large and deep enough to accept even a considerable tall person, however it was impossible to see within the murky depths of the grotto.

“Is this cavern really connected to the shrine below?” Nata asked dubiously.

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Can we go in?” 

In contrast, Kashii questioned Doi with a friendly grin. He looked amped up to dive right in as soon as he got the green light.

“My deepest apologies but I must ask that you refrain. You’ll upset Chyulhu-sama.” Doi frantically pleaded with Kashii. Since he was a student, Doi probably thought Kashii was apt to get up to mischief.  “Even though I’ve been told that it’s connected to the Earthly Shrine below, this cavern  also abruptly narrows roughly ten metres in so it’s impossible to go through. Bats come and go from the cavern so it’s clear that it’s quite deep but, as for what is going on inside, I have no clue.”

“What the heck? So that’s a no-go, then…”

Kashii’s shoulders sagged blatantly.

“So Chyulhu travels to and from this cavern. Why’s that?” Kasu asked calmly. He was wearing the same form-fitting suit he’d been wearing on the bus.

“It seems that Chyulhu-sama was originally a god of a foreign country. For some reason we don’t know, it came here. It is said that it appears at the Earthly Shrine in the form of a child and descends to the village below, but a pair of children returns.”

“A pair?”

“Right. When it comes back from the village, it brings along a human soul.”

“I’ve heard that Zashiki Warashi brings fortune to the homes they inhabit but Chyulhu abducts human souls? How creepy. It’s just like the Grim Reaper!”

“Not quite. Chyulhu-sama only takes the sick and those who have reached the end of their lifespan. Supposedly, the soul of the dead is returned to the form of a child and taken by Chyulhu-sama. There is a story from the Taishou period: people saw two children ascending the mountain at dusk and, just as they feared, they found that a young man had lost his life in a workshop accident. And when they found the body, there were petals of camellias – which were out of season – scattered all around the young man.”

“So I guess it’s like a messenger from the other side?” Tojo abruptly interjected having gotten a similar impression as the image of the Amitabha Tathagata coming to this world to welcome the dead in Buddhist Countries.

“But you could also interpret that as Chyulhu intentionally causing fatal accidents in order to take those souls, right? In any case, as a foreign god living all alone in these mountains, I’m sure it must be lonely.”

“That isn’t the case.” Doi refused firmly but then quietly amended a ‘probably.’ “Chyulhu-sama’s shrine is a tremendous power spot and we’ve even received favourable reviews of it from our guests. There’s definitely no way it’s something so wicked.”

The image of the Amitabha Buddhas with a shining halo around them had immediately switched to a pitch-black emissary of Hell. He glanced at Tojo who gave a slight smile.

“In that case, though this is now an observation deck, it was originally Chyulhu’s home, huh.” Kasu said, paying no mind to his partner’s frivolous talk.

“Yes. In ancient times, Chyulhu-sama had this view all to itself.”

“That must’ve been nice.” Satomi said while looking back out at the panoramic view. “We should come back here tomorrow, too. Perhaps we might even meet Chyulhu-sama. Chyulhu-sama is a cute little boy, isn’t he?”

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

Doi hadn’t finished speaking but, once again, Tojo piped up.

“Since it’s a foreign god that washed up on our shores, who knows what kind of monster its real form looks like? It has a body that can move through this narrow cavern, after all. Perhaps it looks like an octopus. Doi also said it only takes the form of a child when it appears at the Earthly Shrine below. Who knows what it’ll look like up here.”

“No way!”

Upon hearing the grinning Tojo’s words, Satomi became genuinely frightened.

“Tojo-kun.” Kasu rebuked him coolly then turned to Satomi and gently apologised. “Sorry, sorry. We didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Since this place is exposed to the wind, even Chyulhu probably spends all his time holed up in his cavern.” Umino unconsciously muttered.

“You always know how to put a damper on things, Umino.” Nata immediately glared at Umino.

“He’s the same as Tojo.” This was Kashii. Tojo didn’t get angry, he paid no mind to the comment, grinning all the while.

“Don’t say that. You’re always like this, Umino.” Saitozaki spoke as if he fully understood everything. 

It was just a casual comment but everyone had piled on Umino. Was he really the one at fault here? While harboring these unreasonable thoughts, Umino voiced his objection.

“Well, that’s because we haven’t been told the layout of the area, yet.”

“I see. You’re also trying to separate the facts from the fiction, Umino-kun. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” Tojo brought his face close and whispered into Umino’s ear. This was the most unreasonable part of all.

“We’ll take the shrine path back to the fork in the road from a little while ago. That road is a little more precipitous but the view you get when walking down the valley side is beyond compare. There’s one viewing spot along the way that gives you an even better view than from here.”

The group had arrived at the south side of the V-shaped observation deck but the shrine path stretched out from the north side of the platform and connected up to the path in front of the hokora. Naturally, Ayana refused, saying ‘I don’t wanna.’ Even from the viewing platform, you could see the narrow, precipitous, unpaved path. Nevertheless, the other seven of them couldn’t resist their desire to see this view beyond what they’d seen already and they returned back down the shrine path. There was nothing else for it so Doi escorted Ayana back. 

The shrine path was unpaved and incredibly bumpy but not enough to cause worry and it could be traversed in ordinary shoes. The viewing point that Doi had talked up (he’d even gone out of his way to set up a post with a drawing of an eye with long eyelashes on it) from which Umino and the rest were able to see the edge of the mountain and the deep-red iron bridge of the railway they had ridden on also added a sense of elegance to the journey and made the experience thoroughly satisfying.

However, you can’t have light without shadow. There was one particular spot where trouble arose. Midway through, they had to cross a crude rope bridge. The bridge stretched over a ravine where spring water ran down the slope of the mountainside and flowed into the valley below, however the gaps between the wooden planks were large and you could see right through them. Perhaps as a result, the bridge felt even higher up than it actually was.

Nevertheless, it was only a mere five metres long and so most of the group – Umino, his friends and the aforementioned two men – were able to nimbly cross. However, there was one person whose legs couldn’t stop trembling.

“Hey, don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights or something, you Pussy. Even though you’re a man…” Umino shouted to Saitozaki who’d faltered right in front of the bridge.

Umino hadn’t known that Saitozaki had a fear of heights. Consider this revenge for earlier.

“There’s no difference between men and women when it comes to phobias! What era do you think this is?!” With his legs still frozen in place, Saitozaki glared back at Umino.

“Well, then, why don’t you head back? If you hurry, you might be able to catch up to Gannosu.”

“Don’t underestimate me!”

Saitozaki’s competitive side appeared. Perhaps incensed by Umino’s tawdry provocations, he managed to push himself to cross half of the bridge. However, he accidentally glanced down and pulled the brakes.

“You can do it, Saitozaki-kun! The goal is just a little further.” Satomi cheered him on while tightly gripping the rope in front of her. However, since that rope was connected to the bridge, every time Satomi put force on it, it caused the wooden planks to shake slightly.

“You can stop pushing yourself and turn back, you know? There’s absolutely no shame in that. Different strokes for different folks, as they say.” Nata called out in a worried voice, though he’d missed the mark slightly with his choice of saying.

“You’re damned if you advance. Damned if you retreat.” Kashii spouted what sounded like the lines of a character in a period piece. Umino thought that both of them were being counterproductive. 

“I am a man. Rather than turning back after having come this far, I should push on to the end.” However, it seems that Saitozaki didn’t have the luxury to scrutinise the finer details of the Japanese language. Even though it contradicted what he’d said about men and women only a short while ago, once Saitozaki had rekindled his motivation and pushed through to the other side, a cheer went up.

“You’re amazing! Saitozaki!” Nata, who wasn’t the type to thoughtlessly praise others, was genuinely impressed. Tojo and Kasu both gave Saitozaki a pleasant round of applause.

Even once they’d arrived at the point where the path up the mountain had diverged, Ayana and Doi weren’t there. After around a minute the two of them appeared together. It seemed that Umino’s group had been faster, even with all the time spent going ‘waah!’ and ‘kyaaa!’ at the lookout spot and all the time Saitozaki spent going ‘waah!’ and ‘kyaa!’ on the bridge. Wasn’t the path only ten minutes long, walking normally?

“Did something happen?” Seeing the peculiar sense of camaraderie among the shrine path group up close, Ayana interrogated them – her suspicion flaring.

“The scenery was pretty amazing but Saitozaki was even more amazing.” Satomi, slightly giddy, poked fun at him. 

“Oi, oi. Give me a break.” Saitozaki said while scratching his head.

Perhaps having made various assumptions, Ayana just chuckled.

“Ah, that’s right. I heard about one more sightseeing spot from Doi-san. Let’s all go there together, tomorrow!”

***

The crimson autumn leaves that loomed over the wooden fence melted away in the gloomy twilight sky. The smell of sulphur permeated the air of the cloudy open-air bath. As a result of the sulphur, the bathers skin immediately felt like it was actually becoming loose. 

Hot springs are great… Feeling just like Nata, Umino submerged himself in the bath alone.

Saitozaki would be coming later, upon returning to the room he shared with Umino, had thrown himself on the bed and started playing with his smartphone. When Umino bumped into Tojo in the second floor hallway, he’d received some mysterious banter. ‘You’re heading straight to the hot spring, huh? You’re unexpectedly proactive.’ It didn’t seem like Tojo was trying to pick a fight but it had been slightly bothering Umino ever since.

All the onsen at Nakano Springs were outdoors; there was one small bathtub in the arbour with only a roof attached and there were two large, weatherbeaten open-air baths.  Beyond that there was a washing station with an awning above it and an indoor dressing room with a shower cubicle in its corner; everything was arranged haphazardly. Even though the building was recently renovated, it seems that the onsen area was untouched – the washing station didn’t even have showers, only faucets.

Umino could hear two girls squealing in the woman’s bath next door. It seemed like the high pitched shrieks were mainly coming from Satomi, though.

Putting aside Kashii, the hot spring loving Nata should be coming soon. In that case, this was the only time he could monopolise the bath. He was going to make the most of it.

When he pushed his legs forward and, once again, sank into the bath, he got the sense that someone was rustling around on the other side of the fence. There was the sound of footsteps on the concrete path. Furthermore, it was a dull sound like they were dragging their feet. If that was all of it, he probably wouldn’t have cared but the footsteps outside the wooden fence came and went – once, twice, three times.

Could it be a peeping tom? Obviously they wouldn’t be peeping on Umino but on the girls next door.

Umino hurriedly stood up and walked over to the wooden fence at the far side of the hot spring. The fence was roughly two metres high so he had to stand on one of the garden stones in order to take a peek at the outside.

However, the footsteps he’d been hearing up til now suddenly stopped and the gloomy mountain path became as silent as the grave. Thereupon, Umino clearly spotted Chyulhu’s shrine at the end of the path. 

At the same time, Umino realised that this was the path to the shrine. This was the exact same path they’d taken that afternoon when they’d seen the steam rising from the other side of the wooden fence. 

The gloomy path to the shrine. The cold wind blew and a chill ran across his flesh.

Umino hurriedly returned to the bath. He listened carefully but the footsteps didn’t resume. Only the sound of the trees swinging in the mountain wind reached his eardrums.

“Come on, now. Seriously?” 

Just as he muttered those words to himself, the door opened with a clatter. He swung around in surprise to see Nata entering with Kashii in tow. Nata sunk into the water, a towel wrapped around his head.

“What’s the matter? You look spooked.” He asked in a carefree tone.

“It’s nothing.”

“Were you peeping? You’re unexpectedly daring, aren’t you!” Kashii plopped into the bath, spraying water everywhere, and loudly mocked Umino.

“Like hell I was, Dumbass.”

Unlike the wooden fence at the edge of the path to the Earthly Shrine, the divider for the women’s bath was a towering, white plaster wall of around three metres. Without a hint of a foothold, the wall seemed to absolutely forbid peeking at all costs.

“Huh, peeping?” 

Perhaps having caught Kashii’s shouting, the boys heard an anxious voice from the women’s bath.

“It’s nothing. Just one of Kashii’s fantasies.” Umino yelled back.

“Wait a minute! That’s not true! The imperial senate is disseminating disinformation to you!”

As soon as Kashii finished throwing his excuses across the plaster wall, he turned to Umino and demanded an explanation.

“You were way too loud when you blurted that crap out. I was just acting in self-defence.”

Thereupon Umino noticed that the wooden fence was directly opposite from the women’s bath. In other words, no matter how much you milled around the fence, you wouldn’t be able to peep into the women’s bath. So, then, were those footsteps just someone passing by? However, what were they hurriedly going back and forth for?

There was no mistaking what Umino had heard. …Suddenly, he recalled Chyulhu’s legend.

It was a foreign god who appeared at the shrine to take away human souls. Perhaps, tonight, it had brought someone back with it? No way, no way. Umino vigorously shook his head.

It was probably just Doi leaving an offering. It seemed like he genuinely believed in Chyulhu. Nevertheless… The footsteps were going back and forth far more than that would take. Leaving an offering should have only taken a single round trip.

“What’s the matter?” Perhaps due to how stiff Umino’s expression had become, this time Nata sounded worried.

“You saw Chyulhu, didn’t you? Wow, Umino, I never knew you were a scaredy-cat.” 

Since Kashii had clearly not learned his lesson about mocking him, Umino drew a breath…

“Don’t do it, Kashii! You’re even using a drone?!”

And yelled out once again.

“Well, then. I’m getting out first. Dinner is from seven, after all.”

After checking with the other two, Umino headed to the dressing room. Even Kashii was clearly at a loss for words over how Nata sent droplets flying from his head and splashing all over the washing area; for a self-proclaimed lover of hot springs, Nata’s manners were atrocious. When he turned his head, Umino could spot a red birthmark on his shoulder.

If Nata was the owner of those footsteps, could he have bumped it when he’d had to hurriedly return from the shrine path back then?

 However, the timing to return to the entrance and then get to the open air bath was far too tight. In that case, had he simply bumped it somewhere unrelated?

When Umino returned to his room, Saitozaki was lying on his bed with his earbuds plugged into his smartphone.

“Welcome back. How was the water?”

He turned in to look at Umino at the sound of the door shutting. Umino had assumed Saitozaki was listening to music, but he’d been playing an online game. 

“Aah, it was great. You should have taken a dip, rather than playing games. Aren’t you the one who brought us here?”

“It’s not in my nature to get in the bath while there’s still sun out.”

Saitozaki said it with a straight face so it seems he really meant it. He was a weirdly earnest guy.

“The sun already set ages ago!”

“I know. But I like to take a long bath. There’s no way I could have a leisurely soak and still make it in time for dinner so I’ll head in after I eat.”

The clock read 6:20pm. There was still a half hour to go. If that’s the case, Umino wanted to ask why Saitozaki had picked an inn that had nothing but hot springs, however he was sure Saitozaki would just respond with an honour-student-like answer such as ‘I thought you would all enjoy it’ or something.

“You’re a hard ass, I get it. Even if you play games on your phone. ”

Saitozaki didn’t seem like the type to be interested in things like videogames, so Umino voiced his surprise.

“This fishing rod is expensive but it’s also the current meta.” Saitozaki’s answer was clear. Umino was too scared to ask how much the fishing rod cost.

“Sounds good.” Umino said vaguely, just to show he was listening, and lay on his bed.

That’s when he noticed the petals by his pillow. White petals with a faint pink border. Around a dozen or so white petals.

“Hey!” He unconsciously let out a shout.

“What’s wrong? You raised your voice.”  Presumably with his earbuds still in, Saitozaki made a perplexed expression.

“This flower.” Umino replied.

“Hm? Those are camellia petals, aren’t they?” Saitozaki said.

“Did you bring these here?”

“No, I had no idea they were there.” Saitozaki shook his head.

“They weren’t here when I went to the bath, though.” 

“Could they have blown in when the window was opened? Putting that aside, there was no reason to lose your head over that.”

Saitozaki tilted his head to show he didn’t understand. Certainly, the sliding door to the veranda had been cracked open to ventilate the room.

“But–” Umino said but then shut his mouth.

This was the same flower offered at Chyulhu’s shrine. That had apparently been scattered around the young man who died in that accident. But if he pointed that out, Saitozaki would think he’s scared of Chyulhu. Umino wanted to avoid that.

But could the petals really have fallen on his pillow so conveniently?

They said that Chyulhu beckons… the souls of the dead.

In order to steal people’s souls, Chyulhu intentionally causes accidents. He was probably joking but Tojo had said those ominous words. Perhaps Chyulhu had grown lonely and was demanding a sacrifice.

Once seven came, Umino and Saitozaki headed to the dining room downstairs. Everyone was present. Tojo and Kasu were also present, sitting together at a separate table. Doi was briskly carting over trays of food from that side of the room. 

At the very least, no-one’s dead yet… Umino relaxed.

Well then, what the hell was the point of those petals? Or else, could they be hinting at something yet to come?

Though Umino was aware he was being served dishes like Mimasaka Wagyu Sukiyaki hotpot and stir fry one after another, his unease meant that even the flavour of Doi’s cooking – even having trained in an upscale Japanese restaurant in Kyoto – failed to register. Everyone else was scarfing the food down going ‘so good, so good!’

Even after dinner, when Umino was lying in bed, he continued to absentmindedly think about it.

Saitozaki had gone to the hot springs and so, right now, he was alone. It should have been the perfect environment for reflection, however – perhaps because the walls were thin – he could hear the indistinct noise of his neighbours chatting. 

A draft came from the window he’d left open. He got up from bed and closed the window. He looked out into the pitch-black void outside. And hurriedly shut the curtains.

There were two things he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Who had left the petals by his pillow?

Suppose that Chyulhu exists, the petals were left by Umino’s own pillow. In other words, the one who would be going back with Chyulhu was Umino himself. Perhaps his body will be cold by tomorrow. 

That’s ridiculous! This was obviously a prank. But whose prank was it, then? That’s the other problem. If that’s the case, the only one who could have been in the room while Umino was in the bath was Saitozaki. But he was way too obvious to be the culprit. If he was going to feign ignorance, there were far better ways to do so. Even if he’d just gone to the bath afterwards, he’d open up the possibility of another culprit.

In the first place, why would Saitozaki do something like this?

Saitozaki was a straightforward person. Umino couldn’t imagine him pulling such a roundabout practical joke. If it was Umino himself, well, he’d probably do something like that but… However, at that moment, Umino recalled something from that afternoon. Could Saitozaki be holding a grudge over Umino mocking his acrophobia?

But if it wasn’t Saitozaki, did that mean this was a sign that Chyulhu was going to claim another soul like he’d thought? He was going in circles.

The souls of the dead… Suddenly, Matsubara Mai’s face sprung to mind. The girl who suddenly dropped out of the trip one week prior. He considered whether Mei had turned up but she would have contacted if she was coming and the entrance – which was earlier on the path than the shrine – was open so it’s unlikely she could have gotten lost. 

If Umino was remembering correctly, Mei had returned to her home in Tottori… And Tottori prefecture was right next to Okayama, where Mimasaka is located.

“Saitozaki isn’t here, huh.”

Satomi entered the room after knocking and looked around. She was wearing a sexless jersey.

“He went to the baths. Though, he’s been there a while now, huh…”

“Well, then, it’s fine even if it’s just you, Umino-kun. Wanna play ping pong? We’re hanging out in the rec centre downstairs.”

 “What the hell, Wajiro? ‘Even if it’s just you…’ What am I, chopped liver?”

“Well, that’s because you suck at ping pong.”

Umino objected saying that he was under the impression Satomi was also dogshit at the game.

“That’s why I wanted someone who’s actually good! I need a partner.” She fired back, turning a blind eye to her own faults.

There was no helping it, so Umino headed down to the rec centre where Nata and Ayana were already lying in wait. Ayana was wearing a yukata with a conspicuous slit hem that radiated sex appeal.

“Where’s Kashii?”

Kashii looked like he’d be uninterested in sport since he was short and squat but he was actually insanely good at ping pong. Apparently his parents had been taking him to ping pong school ever since he was a kid. With his agile movements that could only be mistaken for a machine’s, his smashes always landed. 

“He said he got heat fatigue from the bath so he’s not feeling well.” Nata explained as they entered the room. Now that he mentioned it, Umino recalled that the talkative Kashii had grown quiet around when he left the bath.

“Forget about Kashii, you’re facing us right now.” The unnecessarily fired-up Satomi declared and the game of doubles between her and Umino against Ayana and Nata began. However, in the end, they were a pair of amateurs and they were soundly beaten. It’s not that Nata or Ayana were particularly skilled, their side was just overwhelmingly unskilled. Mid-game, the ping pong ball rolled off the table and got crushed under Umino’s foot. Luckily no-one noticed and he unconsciously slipped the crushed ball into his pant’s pocket. 

Once the infernal two-match bog had spat out Umino and Satomi, the jersey-clad Saitozaki poked his head in. He’d wrapped up his leisurely bath and his face was flushed boiled-octopus red.

“So you’ve finally shown up. Hey, Saitozaki, switch with me. I’m so bad that Wajiro has turned into a super-pissed-off Kanrin Maru warship.”

“What, am I meant to be Admiral Kimura Kaishu now?” Satomi quipped aggressively but, in the next moment, her language turned cloying. “Well, then. Won’t you please help me out, Saitozaki-kun?”

Nata covered his face with his racket and shot an amused glance in Umino’s direction. It was blatantly obvious to everyone that Satomi liked Saitozaki. Everyone but the two people themselves.

Be that as it may, Saitozaki was dating Ayana. It must have been almost half a year now, right? They hid it well.

From Gannosu’s calm expression, she’s clearly looking down on the tension Satomi is feeling. What a nasty woman. Nevertheless, Umino had also dated Ayana previously without realising her true character. Moreover, he’d only learnt how devilish she was when she casually dumped him after only two months. It was so incredibly pathetic. Because of that stain, he couldn’t bring himself to interfere with their love triangle.

In any case, the red hot rally between Team Saitozaki-Wanjiro and Team Gannosu-Nata had begun.

“Looks pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, is this the fun part, then?”

Eventually, Tojo and Kasu joined the gallery, having completed their bath. And before long Doi finished cleaning up after dinner and joined, too. Moreover, not only did Doi spectate but he took part in the match, too.

“In the end, Kashii-kun never showed up.” Satomi muttered as she put the balls away after their party (read: fierce competition) was over. In the end, it was the childish Doi’s complete victory. While the person in question tried to be humble about it, there was no mistaking that he had been a frequent visitor of ping pong parlours while he was training in Kyoto. He was practically invincible. Though, if Kashii was there, he might have given Doi a run for his money.

“He’s probably still dizzy from the hot spring. I’ll check on him when I head back.” Nata said, anxiously.  He’d played almost ten games despite being fragile so his face was flushed red.

“But, after that, I’m going back in the hot spring. I’m drenched in sweat.”

Indeed, Nata loved hot springs. In fact, he’d probably only pushed himself so hard while playing ping pong in order to enjoy the hot spring even more. 

Perhaps Chyulhu had abducted Kashii. That he hadn’t come to play ping pong was an omen of that. A flash of unease ran through the back of Umino’s mind but he felt that guy wasn’t the type to get grabbed. Well, then. Does that mean Chyulhu’s going to take me like I thought?

That night, Umino didn’t sleep a wink.

***

The next morning, Kashii was still alive. It’s not like he believed in Chyulhu but Umino was relieved, anyway. 

“Eh, everyone but me? Even Doi-san? If that’s the case, I would have also dropped everything and rushed to join in – And it was ping pong, to boot!” Kashii said as he gobbled up breakfast with a nonchalant expression. Apparently, he really had gotten sick from the hot spring the previous night. To be precise, it seems his skin had reacted badly to the water quality and had broken out in a bad itch.

“What a shame, even though you’ve come to such a fancy onsen.” Satomi offered her sympathy.

“Seriously, you’re such a wasteful bastard, Kashii.” Nata added with selfish indignance. 

Obviously, Umino himself was still alive. Though he’d barely gotten any sleep. Doi and the usual two mystery men were also fine. Umino unconsciously thanked god.

The guests were served an extravagant breakfast of mushroom hotpot and grilled river fish. Thanks to his relief, unlike the previous night, Umino was able to taste today’s breakfast. Doi was truly talented.

Shortly after breakfast, Doi guided the group to the riverbank at the foot of the mountain. This was the other sightseeing spot he’d mentioned the day prior. The bus trip down the mountain felt around five minutes long. It was probably downstream of the river they’d seen from the observation deck. A river ran gently through the three metre-wide channel.

It didn’t seem to be a historic landmark or a mystic power spot. There was nothing around besides the pebbles and boulders scattered randomly across the riverbed. However, the reason Doi had brought them to the river with overflowing confidence was because a great number of autumn leaves were leisurely drifting down the river upstream.

The rain during the night had wet the stones and they glimmered brilliantly in the sunlight. Amidst these stones that sparkled like stars, the group watched the leaves spinning around and around as they passed in front of them. The phrase “I see within my mind’s eye, the autumn leaves, picturesque as they flow down the Tatsuta River” unconsciously popped into Umino’s mind. 

“Wow!!” Satomi cheered. Ayana, who was struggling to walk uphill in her high heels, also stopped in her tracks and stared fixedly. 

The shutter of Nata’s smartphone camera repeatedly snapped shut. Tojo also silently shot a video tracking the autumn leaves.

“There’s a dam beyond this point so this is as far as the leaves can drift. This place isn’t recorded in the guidebooks, I only tell guests about it.” Doi added excitedly upon seeing his guests' reactions. It was easy to see why he’d wanted to brag.

“In private, I call it the Bloody Maple River.”

That was his final addendum.

The scenery had, thankfully, successfully driven all thoughts about Chyulhu from Umino’s mind and, soon enough, it was time for lunch. As a service for staying more than a single night, the guests were treated to grilled offal yakiudon loaded with mushrooms. Apparently the offal yakiudon was a specialty of the region. It was delicious, of course.

After lunch, Umino made a trip to the Earthly Shrine alone. Two of the camellias offered yesterday had been plucked from their stems. Without its petals, the yellow stamen was pitifully bare. With a start, he suddenly noticed that a single petal had fallen by his feet. 

It was a trivial thing. Someone had plucked the flowers clean. If this was Chyulhu’s doing, it wouldn’t have done such a shoddy job like leaving behind a petal.  Since it had turned to dusk, they must have overlooked it in the dark. That they’d made a mistake means this was definitely the work of a human.

While this came as a relief, at the same time Umino seethed with anger that someone had pulled this prank. 

No, he couldn’t let himself be swallowed up by his anger… In order to temporarily calm down, he made his way to the hot spring. He was still breathing heavily but, despite choking on the sulfur, he was thankfully able to cool his head enough to think.

“Come to think of it, did you go to the bathroom while I was in the bath yesterday?” Umino asked Saitozaki, who was engrossed in his phone game, once he returned to the room.

“Uhh, did I?” Saitozaki’s hand froze in the middle of paying for a microtransaction as he thought for a moment, and then he admitted: “I did, once. Why do you want to know?”

“No reason in particular, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re a weird guy, you know that? …Ah, right. I just remembered. I need to take a stroll.”

After shooting Umino one or two dubious looks, Saitozaki exited the room. He’d sounded fired up for some reason so he was probably going for a couple’s stroll with Ayana. Well, that’s got nothing to do with me any more, Umino thought. All I want is for the two of them to be happy. Umino flopped down on his bed.

Let’s turn our thinking around. If the petals were a person’s doing, there’s nothing to get upset about. 

The footsteps out the front of the shrine. There wasn’t enough time for Nata and Kashii to have made them and then immediately get into the bath. And that goes for Ayana and such in the women’s bath, too. So that indicated it was Saitozaki but…

Umino figured he’d nap off the exhaustion of the trip and, before he knew it, it was raining outside. Looking at the clock beside his pillow, it was 3:10pm. Even though the weather forecast hadn’t predicted rain... Saitozaki wasn’t back yet, either.

Umino could feel something prodding his rear and, reaching into his pants pocket, he found that he was still carrying the ping pong ball from the previous night. Speaking of ping pong, those two mystery men had only watched, they never joined in the match…

At that moment, an idea flashed through Umino’s mind. Someone capable of ducking into the room when Saitozaki went to the bathroom. Someone capable of knowing when Umino was going to be in the bath. 

Suddenly, Umino bolted upright and dashed downstairs. In the lounge area, Tojo and Kasu had sunken into massage chairs and were sharing a friendly chat.

Umino stood in front of Tojo.

“Tojo-san. This was your prank, wasn’t it?”

Tojo looked at the petals from beside Umino’s pillow. And then he broke out into the widest, beaming grin.

“Bullseye.” He nodded. “Did you have fun?”

2

I’d won a three days, two nights trip to a hot spring inn from the raffle in the shopping centre. Since opportunities like this rarely popped up, if I invited Kisarazu Yuuya with me, he’d be sure to have the time seeing as he’d just resolved an incredibly difficult case. Which is why we’d come along to the onsen in Mimasaka. As far as writers of mystery novels go, I – Kouzuki Sanetomo – may as well have been a complete nobody but, even so, it’d be a problem if people recognised me (and, if they didn’t, it would just be plain sad) I suggested that we go under fake names. 

“Since we’re just two jokers, why don’t we call ourselves Tojo and Kasu?” I proposed. “Sure, whatever.” Kisarazu agreed flatly. Now that I mention it, that reminds me. Before, when we were riding the shinkansen, Kisarazu had been flooded with questions from a group of highschool girls on a field trip because he’d introduced himself as a detective. When I teased him saying that ‘it’s not every day you get to be surrounded by highschool girls that aren’t being suspected of murder’, he got fed up and told me straight up that he wished I would take his place. So I figure that’s why he readily agreed to an ‘undercover trip’ this time.

The trip from the station was about twenty minutes on the shuttle bus. Even though the station was already in the mountains, the inn we were heading to seemed smack dab in the heart of it. 

The two of us were sharing a room. Previously, Kisarazu had offered to pay extra to get himself another room but they were all booked out and we were refused. Since I guess this inn is unexpectedly popular, six students rode the shuttle bus alongside us. They were probably the ones who’d booked out all the other rooms. If I had heard them right, they were on a graduation trip or something.

Once we arrived at the inn, to my surprise, Kisarazu practically jumped at the topic of Chyulhu. As Kisarazu’s Watson, this sort of thing is meant to be my job but… Could he have caught the scent of a case?

Anyway I played along with their conversation and then we received our two keys to room 204. They each had a pentagonal wooden charm attached to them like the kinds you find at tourist traps. You know the ones, kind of like the wooden ema plaques at shrines but far narrower and way smaller. We entered the high-ceilinged guest room and I peered out the veranda, a sea of autumn leaves entered my view. The proprietor wasn’t lying; this view was even better than Kyoto.

“I didn’t know you were a big fan of things like Zashiki Warashi.” I prodded.

“The homepage for this inn talked about it so I figured I’d take a look around but I couldn’t find a trace of the myth of Chyulhu on any other websites. At least, not prior to 10 years ago.” He said nonchalantly.

“So, what are you saying?”

“There are plenty of folktales about spirits like the Zashiki Warashi but not around here. Those stories are from places closer to Setouchi.”

“So it’s wrapped up in a crime, then?”

Was this the work of his Great Detective’s sixth-sense for getting involved in cases? I leaned into Kisarazu.

“That’s not it. It’s just a bunch of nonsense. There’s a plaque saying it’s an occult ‘power spot’, it’s nothing more than a scam to lure in guests. A tourist trap. Chyulhu is even a pun on the name Nakano Hotsprings. Chyu is just the onyomi alternate reading of the Japanese word ‘Naka’, after all. Just like those imposing white towers that seemed to spring up overnight at Ichiya Castle. So, contrary to appearances, I was curious about the lengths they’d gone to in making the legend up.”

“You’re a wicked guy, you know that? And yet, you joined in under the pretense that you were genuinely interested.”

As expected of a Great Detective, he hadn’t given the slightest hint of his nefarious intentions.

“We went to the trouble of going on this trip. We might as well have a little excitement.”

In the end, Chyulhu’s shrine was more interesting than expected. The shrine itself was just an old curio that had either been thrown out by some council somewhere or found lying around but the cavern that connected two spots above and below left me feeling uneasy. It was amusing to watch students respond genuinely to the proprietor’s earnest narration. I looked over to see what Kisarazu was thinking, but his expression gave nothing away.

Nevertheless, the landscape of autumn leaves spread out in front of the observation deck was the real deal, just seeing that made the whole day worthwhile. The dynamism of the scene was on a whole other level from the wabisabi of the old capital. I could see why the proprietor talked it up.

At that time, only the long-haired student called Umino looked unimpressed. He wasn’t able to stop his dissatisfied expression from screaming ‘I’m bored.’ Despite the fact, even Gannosu Ayana, who’d spent the entire walk over complaining on-and-on about her pumps, was moved by the scene.

If anything, the more he saw the other students enjoying themselves, the more he projected stubbornness. It had the same feeling as when you can’t get drunk when you go out drinking because you were already drunk when you left the house. It’s not that he was being left out, he wasn’t able to get into the mood of the place.

I was also like this once so I couldn’t just ignore it. Moreover since it seemed like Kisarazu was bored, I was also starting to get bored. I wasn’t mature enough to enjoy hot springs.

I got back to the inn and entered the hall right as Umino was heading to the onsen. 

After he entered the bathing area, I peeked into the dressing room but it looked like there was only one person’s clothes in the wicker basket. After that, I peeked into the women’s bath. Two girls were bathing in the open air bath. I could faintly hear their chatter. 

I hurried outside and around to the back of the inn. When I plucked the petals of the camellias out the front of Chyulhu’s shrine and noisily retraced my steps over and over again, he reacted just as I’d expected.

I heard him splish-splashing his way through the water as he drew closer so I hurriedly hid myself in the grotto behind the shrine. It was dusk so there wasn’t any light around and, as long as I held my breath, he wouldn’t be able to see me from over there. 

Don’t get it twisted, if Chyulhu’s shrine was the real deal, I would never have done something like plucking the flowers offered to it or hiding in the cave behind its shrine, no matter what. I wasn’t that insensitive. But since a Great Detective I trust implicitly decided it was a fake, there was nothing stopping me.

After a short while, I heard Umino give up and return to the waters. I crept back to room 204 and kept an eye on the room next door. 

“What are you up to?” Kisarazu, who was relaxing in the room, asked. It seemed he had noticed I was scheming something, but – for the moment – he had no intention of criticising me.

Finally, I heard the sound of Saitozaki opening the door to his room and heading to the bathroom. Sure enough, he hadn’t locked his door. 

Now, then. Which of these beds is Umino’s… I could easily determine that based on the luggage next to the beds.

I left several plucked camellia petals by his pillow.

And when I hurried back to room 204, I heard Saitozaki return from the bathroom.

***

After lunch, I stepped out of my room to take a bath in the onsen only to hear a voice from the room at the very back of the hall. It was the room of the two girls. It was around 2:30pm at this point. 

“Aren’t you heading to the hot spring?”

Wajiro Satomi took a step out the open door and into the hallway, she turned her head back and called out. Her clothes, a jersey and a bath towel, would usually be too casual but – on the contrary – they fit perfectly for a hot spring inn.

“Sorry, I’m a little tired.”

I heard Ayana’s voice from within the room. 

“But it’s when you feel tired, you’re supposed to go to the hot spring.”

“My head is heavy and I think I’m coming down with a cold, so I’m going to take a quick nap.”

“Issat so? Right, then, I’ll also give it a miss.”

It’d be bad if I got caught eavesdropping, so I headed down the stairs before they noticed I was here.  A freshly-bathed Umino with his long hair still drying was heading up in my place. I put on a poker face and took a peek at him as we passed each other; to my surprise, he was wearing a relieved expression. 

“Don’t mess with the youngsters too much.” Kisarazu advised me from the opposite side of the bath as we submerged ourselves in the hot water.

“We went to the trouble of going on this trip. We might as well have a little excitement.” I parroted Kisarazu’s own words back at him. “But I won’t do any more than this. As expected, don’t you think it’s about time he realised it?”

“Act like an adult, you’re not a student anymore. Or could it be that you’re sympathising with that Umino kid?”

I really can’t hide anything from Kisarazu, who I’ve known since university, can I?

“...Still, Kisarazu. What’s a Watson supposed to do when they’re not assisting a Great Detective?”

“Is that what’s got you acting so childishly? When you’re not on a case, you should be living your life.”

Even if you tell me to live my life, acting the part of the Watson is the life I’ve chosen to live. Nevertheless, there was no point bringing this up with Kisarazu.

“In other words, doing my real job and writing more novels?” I asked.

“That’s up to you. I’m not your editor.”

“Well, then. Since we’re on a hot spring trip, it should be fine if I neglect that.”

“Sure, whatever you want to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I unconsciously raised my voice but Kisarazu remained calm.

“Whether it’s drowning yourself in work or throwing yourself into your hobbies, it’s your life; it’s your decision. And that includes taking on the role of Watson.” He explained.

“And that goes for you, too, as a detective?”

“Being a detective is my obligation.”

“So you’re only hard on yourself, then?”

Steam filled the air between us. Kisarazu had no answer for me. Since there was a lull in the conversation, I absentmindedly stared into the sky. In an instant, what had been a bottomless blue sky up until now began to cloud over. Gradually, rain began to fall. They often say that mountain weather is as fickle as a housecat.

Since we were in the open air bath, while my actual body wasn’t impacted, the plip-plop of raindrops on my head quickly grew annoying. It’d have been fine if we switched to the bath with a roof over it but, figuring that we’d already spent enough time in the bath, we returned to the dressing room. The clock in the dressing room displayed 3:10pm.

We quickly got changed and had just retired to the massage chairs in the lounge area when the door was flung open with the clamour of rushing footsteps.

“Tojo-san. This was your prank, wasn’t it?” Umino asked with a blood curdling look on his face as he presented the camellia petals.

“Bullseye.” I beamed brightly and nodded. “Did you have fun?”

“Was it fun… How would this be fun?” Umino objected while messing up his long hair that stank of tonic.

“Well, you seemed bored. I thought this might give you a little stimulation, right? I guess that’s my bad, it must have been a little too threatening.”

“That’s not it.” He protested. “It’s not that I was particularly scared or anything like that…”

Considering he looked like he was on the verge of tears, it was an obvious bluff. On the other hand, if I pointed that out right then, I’d only be hurting his pride.

“Is that so? In that case, I’ll come up with something far scarier next time.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

From his long-lashed eyes, he shot me a sharp glare.

“Putting that aside, what made you think it was fine to pluck the flowers offered to Chyulhu?”

“Ah, well, that’s…” Obviously, I couldn’t just say that it’s fine because that ‘god’ is a sham. “That’s because Chyulhu is a pagan god. And, see here, I’m a loyal follower of the Russian Orthodox church.”

Umino knit his brow. He couldn’t work out whether or not I was joking around.

“I wouldn’t say your way of doing things is likely to win any prizes.” Kisarazu shrugged his shoulders. Umino had already squared his shoulders and stormed back to his room.

“But it’s not bad enough for you to step in and stop me, right? You’d obviously caught on since yesterday, ‘Kasu-kun.’” I replied

“If I’d stepped in, would that have stopped you?”

I didn’t respond. I made a show of looking out the window. Outside, the passing rain was dying down and starting to show signs of stopping.

“If the rain lets up, should we head out? I want to go offer some camellias at the shrine. If Doi notices that they’ve been plucked clean, he’ll have a nasty shock.”

Roughly 20 minutes after it had started, the rain stopped and the sky was once again a clear blue. It was just like they say, the fall comes with crisp winds, clear skies and bountiful harvests.

After lunch, Doi headed down the mountain in the station wagon saying he was going shopping and the car still hadn’t returned to the parking lot. I had to wonder what he was buying and what he was planning on making us today. The food last night was delicious, and, so far, today’s had been, too.

In any case, I had to return the camellias to the shrine before Doi noticed they were gone. I plucked one camellia on the wayside. On the other side of the fence, hidden within the steam, I heard the faint sound of water splashing. I wasn’t particularly taken by this inn’s charms, but…

“Let’s take a pleasant stroll over to the observation deck. I bet the maples will be breathtaking after the rain.” 

After switching out the plucked camellias for fresh ones, I invited Kisarazu on a walk and he agreed. Climbing up the stairs and the path uphill, 15 minutes had passed collectively by the time we arrived at the fork in the path. Shoes had left prints on the unpaved path to the shrine. A single set of footprints leading to the observation deck. They must have been left before the rain started because the shoe’s traces had crumbled slightly from getting wet. Yesterday’s footprints had all been erased thanks to the rain last night. In other words, these prints had been made today.

“Interesting. There’s footprints heading here but none heading back.” Kisarazu muttered with great interest. His tone had switched to ‘Detective Mode.’

“Couldn’t they have just taken the alternative route back – reversed from yesterday?” I asked

“That’s what I thought at first, too, but look.”

Kisarazu pointed at the alternate route’s branch road a little further away. In the only patch of bare earth – where the earthquake had destroyed the concrete which, like the shrine path leading up the mountain, paved the road – the footprints had been artificially erased. It appeared that the rain fell after this and the indents left by the footprints had loosely collapsed. 

“What does this mean? The footprints heading here have been left behind, but the footprints heading back have been erased?”

“Thinking normally, that wouldn’t happen. Anyway, let’s follow these footprints.” 

Returning to the shrine path, we made sure not to trample any of the footprints left behind as we made our way to the observation deck. 

The footprints lead straight across the wooden bridge and over to the observation deck with no hesitation whatsoever. Ah, no, there was one spot – it looks like they made a brief stop at the lookout point facing the iron bridge. 

However, once they arrived in front of the shrine facing the observation deck, they’d frantically erased their footprints. Between the shrine and the observation deck’s v-shaped point, there was a wide smear on the ground. Even the autumn leaves that had fluttered to the ground had been covered in dirt and mud. Of course, the portion continuing on to the alternate path was no different. 

They’d probably used the broom left by the shrine. Its bristles were caked in mud.

“What’s going on? Something definitely happened here.”

“I think the person who left the footprints on the shrine path is a victim and the person who erased the footprints on the alternate path is the culprit. And this is the scene of the crime.”

A bloody stone had been dropped in front of the shrine. It was about as large as a one litre bottle of water with a dark red bloodstain splattered on its smooth centre.There wasn’t just blood on the stone but on the roof of the shrine, as well. The victim had collapsed here and the blood was left behind where their hand had smeared it. In front of the stone, for some reason a crushed ping pong ball had sunken halfway into the mud. Since the white ball stuck out like a sore thumb, it definitely wasn’t there yesterday. I held it up and the bottom of the ball was mostly dry. 

“A murder? But where’s the body?”

I even took a look inside the cave on the off chance the body was hidden there but it didn’t look like it. The mouth was still covered in moss and there were no signs that anyone had entered.

In that case… I swung back around to the observation deck to find Kisarazu standing by the iron railing. Once I got closer, I noticed that there were slight traces of blood left among the rust.

With a pounding heart, I looked over the edge. Around fifty metres down the cliff-face there was a flat protrusion roughly the size of two tatami mats stacked vertically. Above a picturesque curtain of autumn leaves, a body had fallen face down. The body’s clothes were wet with rain. A room key had fallen beside the body. Because the pentagonal wooden tag had been pinned beneath the corpse, I couldn’t discern the room number.

“Did they fall from here?” I asked.

“Most likely, the culprit intentionally threw them off.” Kisarazu replied.

“Intentionally?”

“Aah. Since blood splattered on the railing, it’s unmistakable that the victim was attacked here. However, the victim resisted and pushed the killer back all the way to the shrine.” Kisarazu said.

The space between the iron railing and the shrine was roughly 10 metres, though. Certainly, all of the footprints in that space had been swept away. 

“And then the killer landed the final blow in front of the shrine and the victim breathed their last. That’s probably when their hand hit the roof.” Kisarazu concluded.

“Couldn’t they have returned to the railing after touching the roof of the shrine?" I asked.

“If that had happened, the stone that was used to kill the victim would have been dropped in front of the railing. There’s no reason the culprit would have intentionally carried it back to the shrine.”

“So, the culprit intentionally dragged the body back to the railing and threw it over, then? To conceal the crime?”

“I wonder…” Kisarazu disagreed. “It’s such a narrow protuberance that if the killer had just shifted over even slightly the body should have easily fallen to the bottom of the ravine. Moreover, they left the murder weapon as is and it doesn’t seem like they made any effort to hide the blood on the shrine or the railing. Rather, it doesn’t look like the culprit had any interest in concealing the body or the crime at all.”

“So, then, there’s another reason why they intentionally dumped the body off the railing?”

It was only a short distance away, but carrying a blood-soaked adult is a risky move. Since they went out of their way to do it anyway, there must have been some serious circumstances.

“Seems like it. Well, I’ve more or less come up with the reason. Not taking the time to do so would likely have been fatal for the culprit.”

Had he already seen through to the truth of this mystery? Those were reliable words.

“So, then. What should we do about the body? Are we going to meekly leave it there until the police show up?”

If we really pushed ourselves it wasn’t impossible for us to make it down the sloping cliff face to the protrusion where the body lay but, due to the rain, the footholds were even more dangerous.

“Let’s restrain the culprit first. Since their motive is still unclear, it’s plenty possible that they may commit even more crimes.”

Kisarazu calmly pointed this out but I noticed it was different from what he usually said.

“...By any chance, have you already worked out who the culprit is?”

I unintentionally stared him in the face.

“Obviously.” He replied.

The pupils behind Kisarazu’s (non-prescription) glasses flashed as he slowly nodded, an expression brimming with confidence plastered on his face. At that moment, a gust of wind ran through the mountains and a shower of autumn leaves rained upon him.

Just what you’d expect of a Great Detective.

Read the solution here.

[rebelrebelwrites]

Fic Friday! ❤️ Rebel's Weekly Fic Recs

This week's recs are...

As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal preferences.

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The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: That Which Lies Across the Sea by EisforEverything

What you need to know going in:

Mmm, this fic. Part of a larger series called Use Well the Days (also primarily all WIP) that follows Mairon's story from his fall to his days with Galadriel and beyond, this fic is the last in the series, and it sees Sauron following Galadriel to Valinor after the end of LOTR. Humbling himself before the Valar, he seeks something if not true redemption. Meanwhile, the rest of Valinor chafes at his return, and without saying too much, there are repercussions to his—and everyone's—actions in Middle-earth. This ruminative, spellbinding story is rich with lore and just rich in general; a sumptuous feast of a fic you can sink your teeth into. Galadriel and Mairon's moments together are potent, but it's not just them. Prepare for heady altercations with many of your Tolkien favorites here.

WIP, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on AO3.

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The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: A Stressed Tiding by @formerlyir

What you need to know going in:

-fans self- THIS FIC, let me tell you... was one of the first I read in this fandom, and hot damn, what a way to dive into Saurondriel/Haladriel. I've recommended @formerlyir's fics before, and will again because they're stupendously written and well-realized, but this one holds a special place in my heart for its steamy-as-all-hell premise and smut. A one-shot, post-S1 in which Galadriel offers Sauron a tantalizing deal: one night and one day together if they both don't participate in their impending battle—to help her turn the tide of the war, of course. 👀 This is seriously Saurondriel at my absolute favorite: brimming with angst and enemies-to-lovers-but-basically-still-enemies and 🔥🔥🔥 smut? Burning hot.

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Twitter, Instagram, and on AO3.

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The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: Through Peril and Fire by @yletylyf

What you need to know going in:

I struggled between picking between this fic and another I'm reading of @yletylyf's as they're both wonderful, but decided I should start with this completed fic! Post-S1, Galadriel follows Sauron to Mt. Doom, and facing a threat larger than their current conflict with each other, they team up (with help from some of our other Tolkien favorites) to save Middle-earth together. What struck me most about this fic is just how damn delightful it is. Don't get me wrong, it has its moments of angst and inner turmoil for our two lovebirds, but it's also so witty, so winsome in its banter and characterization and fine-tuned plot, you can just gobble it up for hours. A damn delight, indeed.

Complete, Teen & Up

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): The Lesser of Two Evils by @thrillofhope

What you need to know going in:

Another post-S1 masterpiece in the making to share! Can I ever get enough of those? Absolutely not, and I'm sure many of you can't either. In this one from @thrillofhope (another writer you'll see repeatedly on this list, I'm sure), Sauron returns to Eregion to strike an alliance with the elves and our dear Galadriel, for fear of a returned Morgoth. Grudgingly, they concoct a plan to work together against the OG Dark Lord, who's still regaining his full strength. One of my favorite things about this fic is simply how much of a smarmy little shit Sauron is—it feels so achingly in character, and makes for a biting interplay between him and Galadriel that's delicious to consume. Characterization is super strong in this fic, and not just for our favorites, but for all Tolkien characters we have the pleasure of seeing in this story. There's still more to go, but I recommend you get caught up immediately... I have a feeling this one is going to be even more of a doozy than it already is.

WIP, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The Can’t Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den by @demonscantgothere

What you need to know going in:

Another @demonscantgothere classic! I'd be surprised if you haven't read it yet, as I feel like it's very well-known and well-loved (rightly so!), but just in case some of you haven't, the premise sees Galadriel in the First Age, offering herself in place of Finrod when he's trapped in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, BATB-style. This fic evokes feelings of a fairytale, but with a LOT more smut, and it's spicy. All manner of spiciness here, folks. Hot Ones has nothing on Helholden (@demonscantgothere). In addition to the absolutely 🔥🔥🔥 smut, prepare for a very mercurial Mairon—sorry, Halbrand! Couldn't resist the alliteration—a younger, more innocent but no less exacting Galadriel, and other wonderful inclusions from the First Age, including werewolves, Thuringwethil, Morgoth (at least by association, so far), and more. I don't want to spoil anything, so just go read it. 20 chapters in, 80 to go, according to the current count. In other words: hell yes.

WIP, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and on AO3.

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🤩🤩🤩

Me at all these fics:

Don’t see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don’t fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your personal faves. I have plenty more to recommend… ❤️

Until next week!

[ur-friendly-neighborhood-simp]

What were those theories about atsv you mentioned in the post with my ask? It's the Daily Yappathon™ so feel free to talk as much as you want :3 I'm all ears or eyes since I'll be reading this and not listening

OH YESSSSS >:]

so, miguel is wrong. just, dead wrong.

first of all, hes a fucking psychopath. he was stalking the other miguels family and when he died, he could replace him perfectly and no one noticed. and hes delusional, like bro, its not your life or your daughter, and just because you got attached to them doesnt give you the right to act like a psycho. if you want a family, download tinder or smth

second, i get that he was a little bit nice to miles in the beginning (even though he threw a trash can at him), but here he is.

???????????????????????????????????????????????

who gave you the right to act like that? chasing a teenager on all fours and choke slamming him into a fucking train and repeatedly calling him a mistake just because he refused to be part of your fucked up fake sustem?

because the canon is basically murder. letting people die "because they have to" is murder. and seriously, before the spider society existed, who took care of the canon? when miguel made the spider society, he also made the rules and he also made the canon. hes fighting a villain that he created.

also, miles is not an anomaly. if he was, his universe would have collapsed when the spider bit him. because thats what the supposed canon says, anomaly = universe falling apart. and yet, 1610B is very very stable. you know which universe did collapse?

miguel is projecting his problems onto everyone else. miles isnt the original anomaly, miguel is. and he knows that, but hes too emotionally immature to understand what 2+2 is.

miguel blames miles for everything, when nothing is actually his fault. miles didnt start the collider or kill peter or create the spot or anything. if you look into it, you understand that even though it seems that its his fault, it isnt. was miguel too bored to look into it? maybe.

& hes a drug addict. rapture is the most addictive drug the universe and hes addicted to it. whats 1+1 again?

from what i understood, it was jess' idea to save gwen in the beginning of the movie (also we stan mother jess 🙏), miguel was very hesitant to save gwen, which means he was full on going to leave her there. and he neglected her. and he sent her back. to her father. who pulled a gun on her. bro, you cant only take care of the people that comply to your system. its giving government

i get that he has trauma, but like, so does everyone else. peter b has trauma, miles has trauma, gwen has trauma, hobie has trauma, everyone in the society has trauma but you dont see them abusing minors. miguel is the only using trauma as an excuse to be a horrible person.

also, i have strong reasons to believe that jeff dying wasnt miles' canon event. i mean, it was, but not 1610 miles'. when the go home machine read miles' dna, it sent him to E-42, because thats where the spider that bit him was from (which was ohnn's fault, btw. its not your spider bro put it back). and thats what probably happened when miguel was seeing miles' "canon events". jeff dying was miles 42's canon event, and it happened. like, the one is fatherless and the other is uncleless. why does one have to be both uncleless and fatherless? bffr.

basically, miguel to me is this: "oh, look at me, im miguel ohara, im the leader of the spider society and that makes me 200% better than you, nothing is my fault ever, everything is your fault, im a literal fucking psychopath, id rather beat a teenager up than admit that im wrong, my ego is the size of the atlantic ocean and im a furry who doesnt know non-violent communication. grr 👹"

and im not a hypocrite, if miles had done something wrong, i would be able to realise that. like, "miles is a great character but thats where he made a mistake". but he didnt do anything wrong. he didnt know that the canon existed, he only wanted to save his dad.

and i know that if the roles were reversed, if miguel was the one who couldnt save someone he loved, he would do the exact same thing. and so would everyone else in the society, who took miguels side. like, didnt your moms teach you "dont treat people the way you dont want to be treated"??

and it pisses me off so much when people defend miguel, first of all youre defending an abuser and second you dont have any good arguments.

1. "miles shouldnt have ran" thats victim blaming. and seriously, youre telling me that if you saw this

chasing you, you wouldnt have ran? bffr.

2. "he has trauma, thats why hes aggressive" i already explained that before, but trauma isnt an excuse to be a horrible person.

yeah, there are a lot of shit arguments ive seen over time but i dont remember all of them.

also, hes not even hot. not that him being hot would excuse his actions, but then id partly understand when people liked him. but NOW? girl, he has 0 good angles and he looks like he hasnt showered in 3 months. you only like him because hes tall and has muscles and speaks spanish. have some self-respect

i wanted to say another thing but ive talked too much already lmao

[marshmallowprotection]

Hello! I believe this is my first time sending you an ask! I've been following you for a long time, but was always afraid of coming on a little too strong...everyone I've tried talking to about this subject is either hyper-defensive or just ignores it? I can't really find anyone to give me an actual analysis.

I apologize if this comes on strong! Please feel free to ignore it if so. Thanks for taking the time to read it, at the very least.

I genuinely have a difficult time grasping the concept of people genuinely liking and defending characters like V and Rika, who both harmed children. Especially when those same people swear to care about Saeran and/or Saeyoung in a deep way. I think I would better understand it if they didn't claim to love Saeyoung or Saeran so much.

"How can someone who cares about either of them as much as they claim to also fight tooth and nail to defend the actions of people who repeatedly traumatized them?"

I can tell by your writing, analysis, art, and OCs that you put a lot of effort to share your love for Saeran! And Saeyoung, by extension. But, recently, I noticed a few posts where you seemed to be defending both V and Rika, or talking down on people who are too triggered by them to interact with their characters (maybe this is my autistic inability to read tone accurately).

I very genuinely have a difficult time understanding how someone can love either twin so much, but also love the people who were so cruel to them. I want to understand, and I'm frustrated that I can't.

Anyways thank you for creating the content that you do! I really enjoy your SE OC stuff especially, it always brings a smile to my face to see content with them when they pop up! Mine/others' lack of ability to separate feelings for the characters from the way they interact with other people isn't on anyone else, but having some guidance is always appreciated.

Again, thank you for your time.

Let me start off by saying right off the bat that you do not have to like Rika Kim and Jihyun Kim. You do not have to engage with anything in the fandom or the game if you do not like them. If they trigger you or make you uncomfortable in any way, please, do not engage with any content about them for your comfort and safety. Your experience in a fandom is about having fun and you should not put yourself into any position when your comfort is compromised.

I will never defend Rika and Jihyun's actions nor will I excuse any of those actions. I do not believe I have ever done so in the past, but if something I've written seemed to read that way, allow me to clear it up for you in a proper way here. I want them to face judgement and justice for their shared actions because that is what they deserve in every way, shape, and form. Hurting others the way they've done is not okay. It will NEVER be okay.

When I'm talking about the two of them, and I talk about how I wish I could discuss them in a deeper way with others, I'm not talking about telling everybody around me to excuse their actions or to learn more about them when those characters make them uncomfortable. Rika and V are polarizing characters. If you don't like them, that means the game has done its job.

It means the game has made you feel something and you felt that something so strong that it resonated with you. That's what makes great video games.

The only time I lament the fact that not a lot of people talk about the nuances that go into polarizing characters like Rika and V is when I'm unable to discuss the layers behind who they are as people since not a lot of people want to learn more about them.

Like, questions like: Why did their relationship dissolve? Why do they think the way they do? What taught them this? What showed them to live this way? Why do they do these things? Why do they think this is okay? Why do they think isn't okay? Why, anything?

Does me wishing I could talk to more about what I find interesting about them mean that I want everybody to go out of their way to learn about them? No! Heavens no. That is not what I am trying to imply. If you don't like them and you want nothing to do with them, then I support you and I respect you. You do what makes you feel comfortable and you stay away from characters that make you feel awful.

Just because I want to understand why doesn't mean you have to do that to yourself.

You do not have to learn more about them, Anon. You do not have to engage more with them than face value. That goes for any character, ever. Engage with what you like because you should be having fun playing games instead of feeling uncomfortable! If you don't like the two of them, you are valid. You are justified. Your opinion is yours to hold and I commend you for feeling strongly.

Because, Rika and V are not people I would like if I were in MC's shoes.

They hurt not just Saeran and Saeyoung Choi, but Yoosung Kim, Jaehee Kang, ZEN, Jumin Han, and countless others, too. I want the two of them to face the consequences of their actions and I want them to do so understanding that they need to take ownership of their choices.

They need to hold themselves accountable for their actions. Which, in Saeran's Route, by the end, they do that.

Do you want to know my ideal ending after that? The two of them face the prison time they need to appropriately face for everything they've done, get the therapy they so rightfully need, and then never engage with anybody in the RFA ever again.

Not just because it would serve no healthy purpose for any of them, but because that chapter has closed and there is no way to get back what has been lost. They need to move on. Rika and V need to never see each other ever again after they part ways. Nobody involved is going to heal unless this is closed for good and everyone's got their closure to move forward.

This is similar to my talk on forgiveness. Forgiveness is a personal choice. Saeran forgives and Saeyoung never does. They're both so rightfully justified and deserve their choice respected. Everybody needs to do what they need to do to truly make peace with what happened, and you need to decide what works for you personally, and that choice will be respected by the RFA.

Rika and Jihyun, actively and passively, created the experience we go through in Mystic Messenger. For us to explore the narrative of this game to the exact root source where it started, we end up looking at their relationship, actions, and the consequences that follow them. It is important to understand V and Rika, even in the smallest capacity, to know how we ended up where we are today.

For me, I like to study characters. I like to know why they are the way they are, and that involves learning as much as I can about them. I spend my free time thinking about these characters in every way you can think about a person because I really do like to understand how people end up where they do after something happens to them in life. Rika and V have a very codependent toxic relationship.

For someone who was trapped in a relationship like that for years, when I look at those two, I start to understand more about myself, and unfortunately, I see myself in Jihyun sometimes. I like Jihyun, he's actually my third favorite character, but understanding him as strongly as I do doesn't mean I approve of what he's done. It really just means he's a character that he's interesting to me, but I don't approve of his choices.

In fact, I'm shaking him every time I start a new route because he needs to talk to his friends instead of balling everything up inside. I'm shaking him because I know he can be a better person after having played his route and having had the experience to get to know who he can be. But, he's human, then that means he's not infallible. We're all capable of mistakes.

I like to understand what brought them to where they are today. That is something that is interesting to me and finds the way I like to enjoy media.

Understanding a character does not equate to justifying or even defending their actions.

Liking evil, morally gray, or downright wicked characters does not mean that you defend any of the things that they do. You just like a character and it's as simple as that.

I struggle with tone all the time when it comes to content online, so I understand where you're coming from. I use tone indicators a lot on Discord but I can and should begin utilizing them over here. Everyone deserves to enjoy the game in their own way, and everyone has their likes, dislikes, squicks, icks, triggers, etc. Make your enjoyment of the game what feels right for you. Block character tags and content that make you feel bad and focus on what you love! Life is too short to be uncomfortable when you don't have to be.

I hope this makes sense, Anon! Thank you for taking the time to ask this question in a considerate way.