#jema's fics

[msshinylemon]

I found this in my drafts and I have no idea when I wrote it. I thought I might as well share it since I don't know if I'll actually post that fic.

(For a bit of context: Chuuya is visiting the ADA because of a job)

Chuuya followed his line of sight, noticing his confusion. “Dazai likes to bite,” he explained as if that was a completely normal and not at all weird thing to say. Or maybe dealing with Dazai made weird things seem normal. “I’m just glad he stopped trying to bite me instead.” Okay, Atsushi didn't want to know about that. He just nodded and hurried to typing on his computer. Chuuya snorted, amused. But apparently, the world hated Atsushi because Kenji, pure and innocent Kenji spoke up. “Dazai-san used to bite you, Mr. Fancy Hat?” Atsushi felt he was going to cry right then and there. His fear only spiked when Chuuya smirked, clearly as much a menace as Dazai, even if he was more subtle about it. No wonder everyone was so afraid of their partnership if this is what people had to deal with. How did the mafia even survive these two? “Yep, want a story?” Kenji smiled and nodded eagerly.

[dualcomplexity]

What Is Dual Complexity?

Dual Complexity started as a fanfic tribute to the Fanmade Splatoon 3 by Squeaky, long before the official game was announced. It was originally under the name Operation: Protect Inkopolis, OP:PI for short, following the New Squidbeak Splatoon who just recruited the protagonists of said game. It never really had an overarching plot line and essentially worked as a “villain of the week” adventure.

At the time, I hadn’t played any of the Splatoon games but loved the story. That being said, there were multiple inconsistencies with the game mechanics that I intentionally made to make the characters look cool. Quickly, I got into writer’s block and wouldn’t update it for a couple of years, willing to leave it in my junk drawer of imaginations

Then Splatoon 3 was announced.

Once I saw the direct, I looked back to my old creation. And thus started a HEAVY revamp of the series.

First, the plan was to add Neo Agent 3 to the group as it was in the old fic, under the placeholder Squidbeak: Path of A Hero. This version would finally establish Neo Agent 3 as the protagonist, but the rework quickly turned sour. As the Project Splatoon 3 characters were the most affected, I made the choice detach the story from the project, in favor of making it more of my own thing.

One thing led to another, and I looked back at the placeholder title based on the Squidbeak pledge: the path of a hero is a lonely one.

But what if the hero wasn’t as lonely?

And Dual Complexity was born.

This story would have three new characters that Neo Agent 3 (Sanne) had affected when she fell into Alterna, along with a multitude of issues that are affected by her choosing to stay in the New Squidbeak Splatoon while still having an established life on the surface.

Her decision will cause consequences for both sides of her life, leading to a myriad of events that would warp the priority of her friends and her job.

And there will be villains. Lots and Lots of villains…

The fanfic has already started its first arc, Refreshed Reunion, and it’s currently on AO3. If you’re interested, please, give it a read. I wouldn’t want anything more. Thank you.

-Jema

[trixree]

working my way thru ur fic recs! just outta curiousity what version of spiderman do u like?

I enjoy the version that lives in my head ❤

Tbh there's just sooooo muchhhhh Spiderman material that I don't quite have one single version of Spidey that I'm like, "yes, him, that's my BOY!"

I inherited a lot of my older brother's and my stepdad's comics from their childhoods and I really love the Jemas and Bendis "Ultimate Spiderman, Power & Responsibility" because (1) nostalgia and (2) Peter is soooo nasty in it

WHO TOLD HIM THAT HAIRCUT WAS OKAY???? WHY DOES HE LOOK 25????? I DONT KNOW!!!! HE'S NASTY!!!! I LOVE HIM!!!! he's SO GROSS I can SMELL HIM OFF THE PAGE!!!! YES THIS IS HIGHSCHOOL PETER PARKER; HIS HAIR IS STUPID AND HE MAKES ME ANGRY I LOVE HIM

And this tends to be the suit and the origin story that I think when I hear "Spidey"

I loved the Spiderman Homecoming movie because it felt really really genuine and well written and just... good!!! It was really good! I loved it! I've seen it like 10 times and I have a poster for it!!! That Vulture reveal? The awkward energy of teenage Spidey? The homemade suits and the neighborhood do gooder vibe? Loved it!!!! (And I'm going to hold off on commenting on Spiderverse--which I loved even more than hoco--because this post will get twice as long and it's already stupidly long.) But when I read fanfiction, I CANNOT PICTURE TOM HOLLAND SPIDEY AT ALL.

(Admittedly, this is because I like to read stories with sex and Tom Holland is Unfuckable. I'm so sorry, I can't change it. Maybe it's because he's brittish? But he's just. Completely Unfuckable. Terminally Unfuckable. So I tend to default cast Andrew Garfield as Spidey when I read fanfic for the Poofy Pretty Hair and Face, also Andrew Garfield is delightful.)

Did I like Far From Home? No. In my opinion, it diverged way too far from what a Spiderman story should be and lost my interest and love pretty immediately. Give him a bunch of super awesome tech? Thin fucking ice already. Half of the appeal of Peter is that he's fucking POOR AS SHIT. He's just a guy doing everything he can to help people and that means building shitty tech in his bedroom at 2am with shit he stole from his undergrad chem lab. Take him OUT OF NEW YORK? Now you've lost me AND irritated me.

I haven't seen No Way Home yet! I plan to, but I don't go to theaters anymore because I'm really immunocompromised and I unfortunately live in a VERY REPUBLICAN state with VERY HIGH covid numbers. So it'll be a while.

But to answer your question in the most roundabout way possible? Anon, if youre reading my rec lists, you already know the spidey that lives rent-free in my head. He’s some magical combo of @aloneintherain's and @deniigi's brilliant characterizations + nostalgia factor from my own childhood. Just... a kind of awkward and hopelessly optimistic, stressed-out grad student trying to do right by the people he loves. And lucky for everyone else, he has a really big heart.

[theartofbeinganerd]

if you're still taking prompts, can you write about FitzSimmons and the field assignment/test they failed before getting into Coulson's team?

Alright, here it is, the seventh and final day of my week long blog anniversary celebration! Thank you to everyone that sent in prompts or read and enjoyed the fics! I may be exhausted, but I’ve had a lot of fun writing these! (And just fyi, I do have one or two other prompts that were sent in that I’ll get to starting next week, don’t worry!)

Enjoy!

-

“Hey Simmons?”

“Yes?”

“Any particular reason there’s a sign-up sheet for fieldassessments with my sandwich?”

Jemma hurried away from her lab bench, over to the table inthe corner of the lab designated for meals only, where Fitz was sitting. Shepeered over his shoulder at the paper, creased from being folded neatly, thathad been tucked in with the prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich (with ahint of her homemade pesto aioli) that she’d made for him to bring for lunchthat day.

“Oh, well, would you look at that,” she commentedinnocently, her eyes overly wide with surprise.

Fitz rolled his eyes at her awful acting, reluctantlysetting down the sandwich and turning to face Jemma completely. “C’mon Simmons,we both know you’re not fooling anyone.”

Jemma sighed heavily, reaching out to take the sign-up sheetfrom Fitz. “Well, you see, I’ve been thinking…”

“No,” Fitz saidimmediately, shaking his head and holding up his hands to halt that train ofthought. “Absolutely not, Simmons. We’vetalked about this, okay? We don’t belong in the field; we belong in the lab, where it’s safe and no one’s gonnatry and shoot us in the bloody heads.”

“Yes, I know, but…” Jemma chewed her lip anxiously, fiddlingabsently with the paper in her hands. “Think about it, Fitz, there’s so muchout there we’ve never seen, so much more goodwe could do. Isn’t worth at least trying?”

“Simmons…”

“Please Fitz? We’lljust take them once, and if we don’t pass, I’ll never bring it up again.”

Fitz made the mistake of glancing at her pleadingexpression, the big hopeful eyes and the little pout, and he was done for. He’d never been able to figureout why, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to deny Jemma Simmonsa damn thing – especially when she gavehim that look. “Oh alright, just oncethen we forget about it, okay?”

A grin spread across Jemma’s face in an instant, and shelooked about five seconds from jumping for joy. “If we don’t pass, of course.Oh thank you, Fitz! This so exciting!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Fitz pressed his lips together to hide hisamused smile, rolling his eyes for good measure. “Now can I eat my sandwich inpeace?”

“Of course! I’ll go start filling this out!”

Fitz watched Jemma practically skipping back to her bench,shaking his head fondly as he finally took a bite out of his sandwich. He knewthis was going to be a disaster, of course, but if it made Jemma happy, then he’dgo along with it.

And that was how, a couple of weeks later, Fitz found himselfpanting for breath, his lungs feeling as though they were about ready to giveout as he stumbled his way through the obstacle course designed for fieldassessments. It was meant to test endurance, speed, and agility all at once,and Fitz was quite sure that he wasn’t showing an overwhelming amount of any of the above.

By the time he’d finished, he was sweating and completelyout of breath, bending over and resting his hands on his knees as he greedilygulped in air.

“How’d he do?” Jemma asked Agent Caldwell, who wasoverseeing the field assessments, excitedly, clasping her hands together.

Caldwell arched an eyebrow, lifting his gaze from hisstopwatch to answer dryly, “About ten point two seconds worse than your time.”

Either ignoring or simply not picking up on Caldwell’s tone,Jemma hurried over to Fitz and squeezed his shoulder. “Fitz, did you hear that?You got through the course in seventeen minutes and twenty-three point sixseconds!”

“Didn’t…Caldwell say…it’s supposed to…take ten?” Fitz huffedout, not having quite caught his breath yet.

“Well, yes,” Jemma admitted, but her sunny tone hadn’t fadedin the slightest. “But, at least it didn’t take us double the time!”

“Bloody fantastic, that is,” Fitz muttered sarcastically. More like a bloody miracle, he thoughtto himself, but he valued his life more than that, thank you, so he didn’tspeak the words aloud.

The next leg of the test had them in the firing range. Itwasn’t the first time Fitz had held a gun (in fact, he’d been holding quite afew lately, what with working on perfecting the design for the Night-Night Gunand all), but it was the first timehe had the intention of the pulling the trigger.

“Ready?” Caldwell asked, sounding (almost insultingly) boredwhere he stood off to the side, next to a control panel.

“Ready!” Jemma answered immediately.

“As I’ll ever be,” Fitz grumbled.

Caldwell pushed a button, and the targets began to move, asif it wouldn’t have been hard enoughwith them staying still. Palms sweating and hands trembling, Fitz lifted thegun and fired…flinching automatically at the bang and the force of the shot that had him jerking back.

Hearing the sporadic gunfire of Jemma’s shots nearby andremembering that they had a time limit, Fitz squeezed his eyes shut, pulled thetrigger, and hoped he wasn’t making a completefool of himself.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Caldwell called, “Time!”and Fitz cracked open his eyes in time to see the targets slow to a stop.

Setting her gun down carefully and removing her safetyglasses, Jemma hurried over to where Caldwell was waiting for them, Fitztrailing behind her. “Well?” she prompted anxiously.

Caldwell checked the small screen on the control panel,making a quiet noise of surprise. “Huh. Well, you’ve managed to hit a grandtotal of one target.”

“We did?” Fitzasked incredulously. How had thathappened?

“Well at least one is better than none,” Jemma pointed out,somehow still wearing that same smileshe’d had on all day.

“Is that is, then?” Fitz questioned hopefully, “Is theassessment over?”

“Not quite yet; all that’s left is the situationalassessment,” Jema informed him brightly. “We’re nearly finished.”

Caldwell sighed, leveling a look at them as he said plainly,“Look, if you want to stop now, you can.” Releasing a relived sigh, Fitz openedhis mouth to accept the offer so that he could just go home and sleep for acouple of weeks, but then he went on, “The situational assessment is thehardest part of the test, and no one would blame you if you opted out now.”

Damn it.

Fitz’s shoulders sagged as he watched his golden opportunityfor freedom slip right through his fingers. Beside him, Jemma straightened up,planting her hands on her hips and throwing her fiercest scowl at Caldwell. “Andwhat’s that supposed to mean? Youthink we couldn’t do it? I’ll have you know Fitz and I can do anything a field agent can, and of course we’ll finish the test.”

Taken aback, Caldwell quickly looked to Fitz, so he forced asmile and nodded in agreement (he knew farbetter than to disagree with Jemma when she was this determined). “Well…if yousay so,” Caldwell said slowly.

“We do,” Jemma replied firmly.

As it turns out, the “situation” part of situationalassessment turned out to be the two of them, alone, stuck in an unfamiliarenvironment, surrounded by hostiles (played by fellow agents, of course), andwith only a pair of guns (containing rubber bullets, obviously) between the twoof them as protection.

Fantastic.

“Oh! Fitz,” Jemmahissed, leaning carefully around the tree she was currently using as cover.

“What?” he hissedback from behind his own tree a few yards away.

“There’s a building over there that’s perfect for lying lowand coming up with a plan.”

Though Fitz doubted there was any ‘plan’ they could come upwith to get out of this, he followed the path of her index finger to a rundown ricketyold shack in the distance, partially hidden by trees. “And how do you suggestwe get there?”

“Oh…” Jemma glanced around for some way to get past all ofthe other (specially trained for the field) agents and to safety. “A-ha!” Bending over, she picked up a rock,testing the weight of it for a moment. Then, without warning, she heaved therock into the bushes in the opposite direction and took off at a run, graspingFitz’s hand and yanking him along with her on her way past.

By some miracle, they made it to the shack, practicallyfalling through the doorway in their haste. Breathing hard from the sprintingand the fading adrenaline, they immediately collapsed against the wall, beneatha tiny, cracked window. When the door didn’t come bursting down behind them,Jemma said, “I don’t think we were spotted.”

“Yeah, well, doesn’t mean they’re not out there.” Fitztwisted around to peer out the window, quickly ducking back down when he caughta glimpse of one of the “hostile” agents looking their way. “Bloody hell, there’s a dozen of them, just waiting to shoot us the second we step out ofthis shack!”

“I’m sure there aren’t thatmany,” Jemma insisted optimistically. “And besides, if we go about this right,we’ll do just fine.”

“What are you…” Fitz turned to gape at her in disbelief. “Simmons,you can’t possibly think this isgoing well.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s going quite well.”

Fitz heaved a tired sigh, closing his eyes and dropping hishead back against the wall. “There’s no way we’re going to pass this test, Simmons.We’ve failed nearly every section, and the only reason we didn’t completelyfail the weapons section is because of a lucky shot. We’re just not suited forthe field like other agents are, okay?”

Jemma was quiet for a long moment, and Fitz knew instantlythat he’d upset her. And sure enough, when he opened his eyes, he found her gazinggloomily down at the gun resting in her lap.

“Aw, c’mon Simmons, don’t get all sad on me. I’m just beinghonest with you.” He scooted closer, until his shoulder was pressed againsthers. “You had to know we weren’t going to take these field assessments andexcel at them after a lifetime of being…less than athletically-inclined.”

“Well, no…” She sighed heavily. “But, I just hoped…I don’tknow… I suppose it was foolish of me, wasn’t it?”

“Hey, no, don’t be so hard on yourself Simmons.” Fitz nudgedher shoulder with his. “You were just excited at the prospect of doing somethingnew and thrilling, and no one can blame you for that. I mean, you do tend to…runaway with an idea once it occurs to you.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry for making you do this, Fitz.” Sheglanced up, giving him a tiny but sincere smile.

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted, “After all, what better wayis there to spend a Saturday than running ridiculous obstacle courses andgetting chased into a shack with you?”

When that managed to get a laugh out of her, Fitz smiled proudly.“So, I suppose the test is over then?”

“I’d say so.” He sat up a bit straighter and turned his headto peek out the window once more at the agents roaming around outside. “So whatd’you say, should we go out there and surrender, or go down in a blaze ofglory?”

That finally got a full grin out of Jemma. “Oh, blaze ofglory, for sure.”

“On the count of three, then?”

At her nod, they counted down together, “One, two, three!”

And it was also together that, later that night, theysprawled out on their couch and attempted to ice all of their newly formingbruises from being hit with so many rubber bullets.

“Perhaps the blaze of glory thing wasn’t my brightest idea,”Fitz admitted, letting out a pained hiss as he moved one of his ice packs tocover a particularly nasty bruise on his hip.

“I’ll just take the blame for the whole day,” Jemma offered,dropping her head back against the arm of the couch and whimperingpathetically. “You were right, Fitz. It was silly of me to think we’d be ableto pass those tests. I suppose we arejust meant to stay in the lab.”

Fitz couldn’t really move without aching all over, but hestill inched his knee closer to hers until he could nudge it supportively. “Hey,at least we still have each other, yeah?”

A smile crept across Jemma’s face, and she tilted her headdown to meet his eyes as she answered softly, “Yeah.”

[msshinylemon]

So I had a ballet phase and naturally, I got an idea for a ballet AU.

Kouyou owns a Pointe shop and Yosano is a ballet dancer. Yosano has to go buy Pointe shoes every few days, but she doesn't mind because she gets to see her girlfriend.

Dazai is Yosano's dance partner and best friend. He met Kouyou and they have a weird friendship where no one knows if they actually hate each other or not. Dazai also uses pointe shoes because fuck gender norms.

He goes to Kouyou's shop one day along with Yosano and it just so happened to be the day Chuuya passed by to help his sister around her shop. So now Kouyou has to deal with Dazai riling up her brother and Chuuya is holding onto his last bits of patience with teeth and nails.

This goes on for weeks and no one questions it when Chuuya starts accompanying Kouyou to rehearsals.

[msshinylemon]

YOKAI AU OR ILL DIE (please)

hi hi :3 Kitsunezai, a little short tho but i really wanted to write skk being soft

It was a peaceful night, Chuuya mused, touch lingering in soft fur as he brushed Dazai's tails. He'd been having those a lot lately. Dazai didn't mention how he could have finished a while ago, both aware that this part of their routine had been going long enough for it to never last long. Gentle purrs filled the room alongside Chuuya's chatter about the garden, of the flowers blooming as spring came. He talked about Atsushi, and how he reminds him of a house cat, carefully staying away from the whole reason he started living with Dazai in the first place as he brought up the bakaneko.

[msshinylemon]

TRICK OR TREATTT GIMME SOMETHING GOOD TO EATTT (please)

A sneak peek of a WIP I'm working on :3 ----

Dazai gasps, entranced as he watches Chuuya fight before him.

The other boy grins, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he fought knowing full well he would be the one to win. Dazai watches as he jumps, kicks, and easily dodges. Effortlessly maneuvering around their enemies with an easiness that could only come with years of experience. Lips curled, his eyes burning bright, and all Dazai could do was watch.

He looks alive in every way that Dazai is not.

He wonders what it would be like to feel that, to own that feeling. He wonders if someone like him could have something like that.

Dazai sees him.

Not a monster.

Not a god.

Just a boy.

A human.

“… demon,” Chuuya hisses behind him. The mafia grunts follow Dazai, ready to finish off the GSS just as ordered. Dazai didn’t bother turning around. Chuuya wouldn’t be the first to think of him in such a way, nor would he be the last.

He ignores the sting in his chest.

“…Bring it on, then…”

-----

Inbox trick or treat

[msshinylemon]

Dazai Osamu, a drained writer who seeks something to calm his raging mind.

Nakahara Chuuya, a painter with no muse and a tired mind.

They met by coincidence one clear night, but life has a way of handing out the most beloved gifts of all at the most unexpected moments. As Dazai and Chuuya get to know each other in the comfort of the night, their bond starts to grow, until the label strangers or even friends doesn't feel right.

---

A fic I wrote before I found out what writer's block felt like. :)

[msshinylemon]

please do share about the"royalty au but they got hit by the chilhood-friends-innator" im 👀

Hi!! I love childhood friends way too much I fear lol but they're fun to write. I present these 7-year-old silies meeting for the first time :3

Chuuya wandered down the hall, curiosity pushing him forward despite knowing he should have probably obeyed his parents' instructions. It wasn't his fault, really. He was told to read at the library, and when it was time to leave once again someone would be sent to get him but the soft melody of a piano had made him pause at the bottom of the stairs, far away enough that it was barely a whisper that reached his ears. It wasn't a song he'd heard before, not a tune he'd heard from the servants' whistling nor from his mother's humming. It was soothing and there was something almost melancholic about it. Naturally, he had turned away from the stairs and headed down the hall, the gentle melody slowly getting louder with every step. He bypassed intricate paintings and expensive furniture, footsteps softened by the rug beneath his feet. It didn't take long before he arrived before an open entrance, no doors closing off the space with a boy inside, sitting on the piano bench as bandaged fingers pressed the keys. He looked around Chuuya's age, appearing small in the otherwise big room. The melody paused with a tired sigh coming from the boy, dropping his hands before a loud meow behind him disturbed the quiet atmosphere. Chuuya jumped, feeling something rub on his pant leg, a quick glance revealed a small cat strolling into the room, tail high. The boy on the piano turned around, surprise evident in his eyes as their gaze met.

[msshinylemon]

Dazai didn’t have a favorite animal, or a favorite book, or anything of the sort. He didn’t even have a favorite color. He was abnormal, a freak with too strange facts. His siblings told him so. They were older, supposed to be wiser with their experiences, which meant that it had to be true. Brown eyes watched Chuuya giggle, gasping in awe and pointing whenever they came across a different animal. He watched as Chuuya’s curls bounced as they ran deeper into the forest, Chuuya’s contagious grin making Dazai’s own lips curl upward… Chuuya. Chuuya. Chuuya. Red. He thinks he likes the color red.

Childhood friends Soukoku, but it’s canon compliant. 

Or childhood friends skk is living in my brain rent free and I’m making it everyone’s problem. (Please mind the tags)

[msshinylemon]

What if Yosano met Dazai when they were kids? Mori brought Yosano along so she could know what to expect from a patient, and she was annoyed about it and made sure Mori was fully aware of it.

Teenagers are there but they're afraid of her, so now there's an 11-year-old wrangling the teenage boys into behaving so she could finally leave.

She meets Dazai and she's the one who teaches him to properly do his bandages because he's 8 and his handiwork is detestable according to Yosano. When they meet again at the ADA, neither of them bring up how they met the first time, but Ranpo knows.

(How obvious is it that I love the idea of the gossip trio lmao)

[msshinylemon]

*Knock, Knock*

‘Tis a note found upon your chamber’s door,

Please read it, I implore

It holds a message of desire,

to know your thoughts and feel inspired.

~ i can’t just ignore these feelings i have for you. ~

Chuuya watched Dazai laugh, his edges turned soft under the morning light streaming through the window. His eyes fluttered closed as laughter fell from his lips. Butterflies fluttered within Chuuya, a familiar aching that was easier to shove down amidst the chaos of their usual everyday life.

He couldn’t pinpoint when these feelings had taken root, only aware they grew with each visit to the arcade, with every bet they won or lost together.

The light hit just right, turning dark eyes into pools of honey and amber. As the sun continued to rise, Chuuya knew he couldn't just ignore these feelings he had for him.

The thought didn't bother him as much as he thought it would.

[msshinylemon]

Childhood friends soukoku confessing by exchanging potatoes. That's it, that's the fic lol

Featuring fluff and happy vibes because canon has enough angst.

[msshinylemon]

Hi! Trick or treat?🍬🕷️

Hi!! Have a WIP as a treat 🎃👻

-----

Guests filtered through the entrance, flashing their wealth with expensive clothing and glittering jewelry. They flocked toward potential sponsors, creating connections and the like.

Glasses clinked, discussions made surrounding the latest news in the Tsushima household.

Dazai strolled through the party, back straight and head held high as some of the kinder-looking women cooed and murmured to each other about the little boy growing to be such a gentleman. Clad in a perfectly tailored suit, he fit right in amongst the crowd despite being only 7.

His siblings were spread out, talking with some businessman or other. Just like father taught them to do. By the end of the night, a potential deal would be struck and his mother would disappear once again to visit her friend, leaving everything behind before she appeared a few days later.

He wondered, briefly, if the reason she paid her friend visits so often was to escape this stifling house for as long as she could.

He wondered if the reason she always brought him along was so he could escape too.

-----

Inbox trick or treat

[msshinylemon]

'15 femskk but doomed yuri but not really they're just emotionally constipated, canon divergent (pretty girl please come over and ruin my life)' - For the WIP ask game

pls I need to hear more about this 🙏

Hiii :3 I keep thinking about this au a lot lol, so it was fun to go back to this

A knife glinted, and Chuuya immediately braced herself for a fight, body tensing and she locked her gaze on the girl. "Drop the knife," Chuuya snapped. The girl just stared at her, uncovered eye wide and unblinking. There was something calculating in her gaze that rubbed Chuuya the wrong way. She reminded her of a predator, feigning vulnerability to have others lower their guard to achieve her goals. A wolf in sheep's clothing, almost. The girl grumbled. "Sheesh, so demanding." "Drop the knife," Chuuya repeated, fingers curling into a fist inside her pocket. A fight with the other girl would end quickly no matter what, ability humming just below the surface. "You're in Sheep's territory." Something flickered in her eye before it fluttered shut, dropping the knife with an annoyed sigh and kept her hands raised in surrender. She kicked it closer to Chuuya, knife sliding and stopping between them. Good enough, she decided. If the brunette tried to get it, Chuuya would be the one to reach it first anyway.

[msshinylemon]

👻🎃Trick or Treat🎃👻

Your treat will be a wip :3 🍬🍬

------

Chuuya’s feet brushed against the wood chips, barely reaching the ground as he swung his legs back and forth. The swings swayed gently with the breeze. But Dazai’s swing remained unnaturally still as he watched him and Chuuya met his gaze head-on.

“Are you afraid of me?” His voice was devoid of anything. But his body betrayed him with fingers fidgeting with his bandages, shoulders stiff. His gaze remained unblinking as he waited for Chuuya’s answer.

“No,” Chuuya whispered. “Just worried.”

He expected a joke, a tease, a grin that would annoy him so much he would want to punch it. Maybe even for him to push Chuuya off the swings. Instead, Dazai looked away, his bangs hiding his face from view.

“Huh,” Dazai murmured. Chuuya didn’t know if he was meant to hear it. “How strange…”

-----

Inbox trick or treat