#theres sm to write

[hypostatic-oath]

Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry

I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.

Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.

SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW

Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.

Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.

A shimmering light crosses the sky.

Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.

Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?

That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.

She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?

Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...

It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.

She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.

She can still hear you calling.

The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.

It's both relieving and heartbreaking.

At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.

Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.

He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.

Wait, Furina!

She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.

She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.

She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...

She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.

Foçalors, come home.

Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.

The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.

No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.

Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."

It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.

But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.

"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"

The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.

It hurts.

With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.

The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.

So she does what she can do.

Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.

When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.

She's sorry.

She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."

The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?

Furina still feels like it might be hers.

The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.

Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.

Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.

She considers it.

She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.

She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.

Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.

She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.

Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.

She's on trial.

________

She's crying.

She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.

If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.

She doesn't witness your relief.

Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.

You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.

Not about her.

Not after knowing the truth.

You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.

Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.

So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.

You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.

You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.

After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.

The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.

"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.

"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.

"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."

Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.

"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."

The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.

There is so much to do...

_________

Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.

Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?

Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.

She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."

Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.

Furina. Come home.

You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.

Now, she simply looks up.

"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.

You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.

The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.

Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.

You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.

You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.

Welcome home, Furina.

[stuckinapril]

listening to all the demos victoria monet did for ariana grande is insane bc how did this woman have it in her to sit on all this material and not be frustrated about it

[skywritingrambles]

I love going on ao3 and seeing what the oldest fics for certain tags or pairing are.

[diodellet]

cw: incoherent rambling, im still going through it™, unbeta'd++all mistakes are mine

grim being a selfish brat is the point of his character arc. when you're told to claw for your survival in a prestigious yet hostile magical academy, when you're told that the weak must obey the strong, of course you're going to make use of what little advantages are given to you. that means demanding your henchman to do your every bidding and taking any opportunity to prove your strength.

kindness, consideration, compassion, empathy - they don't have a place in NRC. or so it seems.

the great thing about him starting the story with an obnoxious and abrasive personality is in how he awkwardly navigates his first ever friendships. in the sweetness of the rare scene where kinship just clicks for him, where his boasts and complaints become banter, where he feels like he gets to belong, to have a home.

and there's something deeply tragic about grim too, the fact that he's going to be left alone when yuu returns to their original world. what will happen to his student status? will he have to move out of the ramshackle dormitory? can he make it through his studies without you at his side?

when the first person who gave you kindness leaves, what are you supposed to do? will you say goodbye or will you fight to keep them?

[nyxi-pixie]

hello!! random question that hopefully isn't annoying!! when you say chuuya is contradictory as a character, wdym? I mean I know that but it's difficult for me to put into words so I'd like to hear what someone else has to say, esp as I've recently finished reading stormbringer!!

ty in advance hehe

ofc not love i am obsessed with talking about chuuya and will take all opportunities to do so🤩 also hope u enjoyed sb! its awful and wonderful and makes me insane!!

when i talk abt chuuya being contradictory i just mean that his traits are often in conflict with each other.

surface level hes arrogant, hes powerful and he knows it and plays that up (im always thinking abt his 'whats wrong? im just on my tippy toes😇' in fifteen manga), hes violent and he enjoys being violent, hes brash and loud and quick to snap.

but under that, youve got his self-blaming tendencies and a contentment with being used, and the isolation under his power that makes him resentful of it at times (when hes talking to hallucination sheep in sb: 'to hell with power, if i didnt have this skill id still be with you guys'), and he doesn't like needless death and has his own parameters for where the lines are rather than just being an amoral murderer looking for his next kill, hes quick and observant and patient and, sometimes, even quiet, small when the sheep are crowding him.

hes So Much of everything, even when those things are opposites, which is part of what makes him such a distinctly human character - and that in itself is more contradiction, that we spend so much time with his status as a human being ambiguous, when everything about him IS.

[daftpatience]

Could you possibly be persuaded to share your draluc/ronaldo comic after all? /hj

love your art :)

IM STILL NERVOUS BUT HERES SOM,E SNIPPETS

[congregation-of-the-spiral]

thinking about writing a jmart fic inspired by my original story. would y'all read it or nah

[nostalgic-muffins]

cant believe there r people out there that hate mephisto. if you hate him, write me 9 paragraphs on why you hate him. write me a college level essay on why you think hes the worst obey me character. i DARE you.

[isforever]

on tonight's episode of "is the muse low or am i just too anxious to write them!!!"

[singbluesxlver]

Ghost and Graves fighting for Soap's attention pt.2

Context here

Ghost and Graves have silent competitions for everything.

Who brings Soap his morning coffee first, who praises him the most, who covers him in the field, who can get more smiles from him, etc etc etc.

One day, there was a celebration party at the base (bcs idk, it was the tf141's creation anniversary)

The three of them were sitting next to each other having a few drinks.

Like most parties, there was music playing, and Graves suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Hey Soap, would you like to dance?"

"Sure, why not... LT? Are you coming too?"

Ghost shook his head and before one of them could say anything else, Graves was already dragging Soap with him and sticking his tongue out at Ghost.

Ghost 100 - Graves 101

Another day, Soap caught the flu and they had to keep him in isolation for a couple of days.

"Captain, let me take care of him."

"That's the nurses' job, Simon. You and Graves are really getting on my nerves this time. I cant risk you two catching-"

"I don't get ill. My immune system does its job perfectly, unlike Graves'… They say he caught cold at least four times last month."

…

The door of the medical room opened and to Soap's surprise it wasnt one of the nurses who walked in.

"Si?"

"How are you feeling, Johnny?"

Ghost 156 - Graves 155

[tojisun]

sun… you gotta any toxic! simon or biker! simon in the works? 😏

I DO!!! thank u for asking <33

im completing one rn but its… getting longer than needed again like its a full blown fic atp 😭

/edit: here it is!!

[binksbrew]

On the topic of hachi though and bc i was infodumping to a friend ab it earlier its stl absolutely wild to me they just obliterated him from the live action considering his importance in the plot in sabaody and fishman island in relations to nami but also the whole Everything banned from the plot for his whimsical swag fr

[daemon-in-my-head]

I wanted to post the full thing here, but after spending way too much time on editing tumblr decided to be a bitch about it and said 'oopsie smth went wrong-' (oopsie my ass).

Either way, I have finished. Orins character study and the perspective of a delusional yet loveable madwoman. Since tumblr decided to not work, a snippet here and the whole thing is up on ao3. The story is in english btw, just making sure we're all on the same page. I just adore the word I used as a title.

Menschenfalle

She knew him, she told herself as the shaking grew worse. She knew of his adoration for her. And yet, despite the fondness she knew he must've held, despite her hopes, her fruitless dreams of kindship, at this very moment, she could almost taste the bloodlust lingering in the air. Alongside the painful sting as he twisted her knife arm behind her back or the pressure of his free hand clasping around her throat, pinning her to the nearest wall and cutting off her every option to escape his grasp. She knew he'd been an extraordinary spawn. She had admired him, after all, idolized him even. Worshipped him as her undeniable leader. But now, the way he treated her, he didn't seem like the brother she knew. If anything, he truly appeared like Bhaals Slayer now. "Cease your foolishness at once, Orin. Or must I remind you of the place where you belong?" He hissed at her, his fingers digging ever deeper into her throat, "and if I meant it, if I meant whatever heretic thoughts you believe you've discovered, what of it? What will you do, hm?" Malice filled his every word.

She had made a mistake. She should've never checked. Curiosity might've killed the cat, but now it seems to be also taking out the changeling.

[soccerpunching]

Thinking about how Fei and Saru both have hero complexes always make me think that the reason they were the two leading figures of Feida is because they grew up enabling these complexes on each other. So much that the passion they had for doing what's right (for fighting for SSC's right to live) leaked out to the others. The other SSC chose to follow Saryuu Evan who was vocal about what they deserved and would make direct actions for the cause and they looked up to Fei Rune who would sacrifice everything that he had for them just to give them what they deserved.

Hero complexes can easily turn into charisma when focused and endowed with actions. Honestly, if the SSC did not have the knowledge that their time in the world is limited and that they can't even be given the same treatment as everybody else given that small time they have, I don't think destroying some buildings would even be part of their movement. Theyre kids who just wanted to live and be accepted, lead by a pair who had had enough of the neglect and possibly abuse that the world inflicted on them.

[gornackeaterofworlds]

💔🎈❗️🥀🍓💋🐞 for my beloved caiji pretty please 🙏

Reblogging ask games when I know I barely developed the characters or plot yet is gonna end me..

💔 (broken heart) - Who has your character hurt most? Physically or emotionally? How did it feel? Do they regret it?

Initially I wanted to say her sister, but I actually think that's untrue depending on your scale of how bad something is. So, my true answer? Her parents. It...well it's hard to place how it felt. Y'know the song from Epic, Monster? Does she regret it? Not in the tiniest little bit. She BRAGS about it. Eventually..

🎈 (balloon) - What does your character do at parties? Are they a wallflower or a party animal? Do they go with friends or alone?

Parties are never to have fun, not for Caiji. They're networking, plotting, scheming events. You find out information and make your next move, you gather things to hang over others. She does drink, though due to her... incredible size a few glasses of wine is the same as water to her. Though she does drag her sister everywhere

❗️(exclamation point) - What was the scariest moment of your character’s life? Does it still affect them?

This is so far in the plot I can't even hint at it. But it's me, ofc I'll hint at it. So I'll take this moment to remind people, for completely unrelated reasons, to glance at the worst content warnings..

🥀 (wilted flower) - How does your character deal with stressful situations? Is their fear response fight, flight, freeze or fawn?

None? Where's the "throw all your values to the wind and strategize the easiest possible way for you to live" response? Taps the Monster from Epic sign

🍓 (strawberry) - Does your oc believe in anything? Are they superstitious? Religious? Atheistic? Has anything in their past made them this way?

Hmm. I actually never thought of this in depth. Yokai understand that magic is its own science, it operates outside of reality and changes it as it pleases. There's no gods, if that's what's implied. But they do worship strong historical figures. Caiji, specifically, has a very complicated relationship with this kind of ideology. She's the daughter of two of the physically strongest and most resourceful and cunning, but has an incredibly strained relationship with the most mystic-inclined individuals. So her views are definitely warped in terms of who she looks up to. And it will be explored, but she also has very little mystic abilities. Her lack of communication with that side of society is part of what got her in this position in the first place.

💋 (kiss) - Is your oc a good kisser? Have they kissed anyone before? Do they even enjoy kissing? What was their first kiss like in comparison to their most recent?

At first, for the longest time, I had the urge to make Caiji very sexually experienced. She's rich, she's hot, she's powerful. But...she's also alone. She doesn't have the time nor vulnerability for that kind of thing, and she's only like 21? She's likely not kissed anyone, no, and her anxiety to do things perfectly and be knowledgeable ahead of time probably makes her a very nervous and awkward kisser. She would enjoy kissing. I won't be showing explicit sex in Butterfly Effect, I'll barely be showing kissing, but multiple characters do smash. And she's one of them

🐞 (ladybug) - What does a perfect day look like for your oc? What do they do? Who do they see?

This is the hardest question. Because it depends on where she's at in her development. Where the comic is now? Being able to sleep and have her family take care of everything for her, as they mostly do now. Having her..rivals dead or obedient. Being given a prophecy of prosperity and peace instead of what's to come

[good-beanswrites]

...*comes waltzing back through the revolving door* hhi. hi im back 🥺 I heard you were still open for drabble prompt requests so uhhhhh *slides my request across the table* here you go! 👉👈 (btw I am eating well tonight with all of these drabble fics omg thank you for writing these!!)

33. Wedding + Kazui

Hiii you're back!! :D Thank you so much, this had so many interesting possibilities ough... I ended up going with a convo with Mahiru (I hope you don't mind a second Mappi drabble lmao) as he reminisces about his past. Go vote your sad wet cat innocent today 👍

A hand darted out to grab Kazui’s wrist. Mahiru’s voice was weak.

“Can you stay? Shidou is going to be a minute. I don't want to be alone.”

Kazui was supposed to come in, drop something off, and return back to his cell quickly. He didn’t know how to comfort someone like Mahiru in general, nor did he know what to say after all that had happened. He hated the idea of seeing her like this when he was the one who hadn’t reached her in time. He really didn’t want to stay.

“I’d love to.”

He sat beside her, trying to make himself comfortable on the cool cell floor. 

She retracted her hand. “Thank you.”

Before Kazui could even wonder what a young woman like her would want to talk about, she whispered, “can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if it makes you upset.”

He was already regretting his decision. “Go ahead.”

“Could you tell me about your wedding?” Kazui felt his chest tighten. “I always dreamed of mine. You know, I had the whole thing planned already. He never even knew…” She laughed, but quickly winced in pain. “Things may have… changed between you two.” 

Kazui had been careful to hold details of his life closer than some of the other prisoners. None of them had a very good idea of what had brought him here -- he felt bad that Mahiru may have been under the wrong impression of his marriage. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time.

She asked, “but the wedding day itself… is it just as magical as everyone says?”

Despite the dim lighting, surrounded by a mess of bandages, Mahiru’s eyes glimmered.

“Yes,” he lied. 

“I knew it…” 

He couldn’t fabricate exactly what she was looking for. So he told her what he’d told himself many times before. It was the truth. Technically speaking, that is.

“That morning,” he began, “you wake with your stomach in knots. You feel the anticipation in your whole body.” He kept up a smile, and she seemed to buy it. “I’m a pretty organized guy, so I thought I’d be thinking about all our plans -- the schedule, guests, food, things like that. But I wasn’t worried about any of it. The only thing in my mind, all day, was her. And the many, many years ahead of us. The time stretches on for miles in front of you.”

Mahiru let out a content sigh.

“And everyone's so happy. I’ve never had that many people excited for me and my life. It’s everywhere you look. You breathe in and you can practically taste their joy.”

“Oh, that must be wonderful.”

“Y-yeah. It sure is something. And of course, when you see the other all done up for the first time, walking towards you with a huge smile, tears in their eyes… I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“What about the vows? And the rings? Is it really so special?”

“Of course. When you put on those rings, you feel inseparable.” Kazui folded his hands together. Hopefully Mahiru couldn’t see he’d taken his off. “You feel connected to them. You know you’re going to be with this person forever.”

She let out another dreamy sound, though he was beginning to falter. He was grateful when Shidou entered, apologizing for the delay. 

Kazui stood, offering one last smile. “I hope you can rest.”

“Oh, yes, especially now. Thank you. That was all so perfect.”

He turned to leave, his own words still echoing in his mind. His hand drifted into his pocket, brushing against the small silver piece.

You’re going to be with this person forever. 

On that day, it had seemed like a curse. Then again, on that day, ‘til death do us part’ seemed a lifetime away.