#this is the second fucking old man doing awful shit to me in two weeks. the first one was a email saying im asking to be sexually assaulted

[alieinthemorning]

Strawberry Mint Lemonade [Getou Suguru | Gojo Satoru]

Content: Meet-Cute, Indirect Kiss, Gojo Satoru Being Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru Being Getou Suguru, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Kisses, Café AU, No Curses, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Crying, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Second Person, Suggestive Themes

Pronouns: None

Note: THIS IS MY 200TH WORK ON AO3 AAAAAAAAAA (Also UTC because it's 2500+ words)

Header: @/nikki101pistar on Twitter

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Your favorite drink was a simple strawberry mint lemonade. Not too sweet, not too sour. It was made the same way every single time which made sense since you'd had been coming to this hole-in-the-wall café for about three years now. Every employee, new and old knew your name and order, so when the familiar drink was placed in the completed section on the counter, you didn't look twice at it and immediately took a sip.  

"What the fuck is this shit?" It was as if your straw was made of sugarcane, the strawberry and lemon pieces were formed from sugar cubes and the liquid itself was pure syrup.    

"Ew...what is this?" Someone from beside you, whined.  

Looking over, you found an incredibly tall man with stark white hair and—oh, you couldn't see his eye color behind the dark, round shades. You were about to turn around and talk to an employee about this...horror from hell, but your eyes drifted to the drink in his large hand.  

You eyed your own drink, frowning at the name written on the side.

Satoru

You looked at the man again. "Are you Satoru?"

He nodded, then said your name. "I'm assuming that's you?"

You sighed, shoving his drink toward him. "Thank god—hand me my drink. I can't drink pure sugar."

"Awww, come on! It isn't that bad! " He pouted as he switched drinks.

You took a long swig of yours before you replied. "It was like drinking the three states of matter. Solid, Liquid and Gaseous Sugar."

"How would it even be gaseous?"

"The air from the straw."

He laughed loudly, startling  the other customers.

You flushed, grabbing him by the elbow. "Come on, let's sit and talk."

The Goliath of a man let you drag him to a secluded corner, where the two of you talked each other's ears off. However, despite ordering another drink of your own, you noticed that he still hadn't touched his own.  

"You gonna let the ice water down the sugar?" You grinned, "Was I right about it tasting like shit?"

He balked at you. "No way!"

You nodded toward the drink, "Then drink it."

He looked at you, the drink, you again then finally swiped the drink off the table, guzzling it down in mere seconds.

"There! Are you satisfied?" His head was swiveled to the side, tucked into that weird high collared jacket of his, but you swore the tips of his ears were flushed red.

"How are you alive?" You asked in slight awe.

That got him to look at you again, all smiles too. "Must be my impeccable genes."  

You raised a brow. "You a citizen of the Candy Kingdom or something? Built like Candy Wife?"  

He just smiled at you. "I have no idea about what you're talking about."

The two of you chatted for longer than expect, leaving just an hour before closing.  

"Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Maybe so."

And he did, the two of you ending up seeing each other at least once a week for a few months. And of course, you learned a lot about Satoru during that time.  

You learned that he had a very unhealthy obsession with sweets. That, despite the goofy look that he basically always had plastered on his face, he was quite intelligent. Oh, and that he had really bright blue eyes (like limpid tears) and the reason why he wore shades was because his eyes were really sensitive and without them, he was prone to awful migraines.  

You also were beginning to develop a bit of a crush on him, but you were sure someone has beautiful as him had to already be taken. So, you decided to stuff the feelings in the deepest part of your heart.

And today you learned—

That he was bringing someone else with him today.  

The person Satoru brought with him was a stark contrast to him (except in clothing—they both wore dark-colored clothing). He was maybe only a few inches shorter than him with long dark hair that was in an up-down style with a bit of hair draping the left side of his face. You watched that as Satoru pointed at you, the man's eyes slid to you and his lips turned upward. Then Satoru headed toward the counter while the man made his way to you.  

He called your name and you raised a brow.

He chuckled. "Satoru told me your name." He slid into the seat across from you, "My name is Suguru. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

You leaned back in your chair, a bit uncomfortable with his familiarity with you. "Oh? Has Satoru talked about me that much."  

Suguru leaned in closer, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his intertwined finger. "Oh, you have no idea."  

Before you could question him further on the subject, Satoru placed their drinks on the table, alongside a few sweets.  

"Seems like the two of you are getting along." He said with a hum as he pulled a chair over to complete your little group.

"Yeah, sure—Satoru, what exactly have you been telling Suguru here about me?"

His brows shot up to his hairline as his head swiveled to Suguru.  "What did you say?"

Suguru just smiled. "I haven't said too much." The unspoken yet at the end of that sentence was very loud.  

You sighed, nudging Satoru's foot. "So, you gonna properly introduce me or am I supposed to keep thinking of your friend here as a creep?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," He placed a hand on top of Suguru's, "This is my boyfriend, Suguru. We've been together for a few years now, and been best friends for longer."  

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and you felt your lips dip downward. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand, raising a brow. "Oh? We've been talking for so long, and you just now tell me about your significant other? I thought we were closer than that, Satoru."  

You knew you didn't play that off well, you knew that Satoru knew that what he had said hurt you.

And Suguru?  

Suguru just smiled.

Despite the rocky first meeting and sudden revelation, you, Satoru and Suguru continued meeting (after you had bullied Satoru into inviting Suguru again).  

Slowly yet surely, you learned more about Suguru and their relationship. Suguru was the one who did the majority of the cooking (while Satoru baked to quell his late night sweet cravings). He was really sweet and caring despite the shit eating grin that was etched on his face. He also was a pretty big flirt.

Which...was very unsettling to you. Since it seemed like he was very open to doing it in front of Satoru, who didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.  

"You look very beautiful today."

"Oh, um, thank you..."  

"I especially like the lip color you've chosen today."  

You balked at him, face becoming warm as you looked between him and Satoru.

Satoru continued to sip on his drink and scroll through his phone.  

And Suguru—

Just fucking smiled.

And later that night, you knew you were screwed.

You were in love with both Satoru and Suguru.

So, you did what you did with your feelings for Satoru and shoved your feelings for Suguru down alongside his. Instead of running away from them and saving your heart, you hurt yourself even more Getting closer and closer to them to the point where you had visited each others homes and you've met each others other friends (Shoko and Nanami were your favorites among them).

Today you were over at Satoru and Suguru's very nice house (another thing you learned about Satoru is that the was stupidly rich). You were simply lounging around, not over for any specific reason, just to be in their presence, when Satoru suddenly stood up from his relaxed position on the couch.

"I need donuts." And without another word, he snatched his keys off the kitchen island and was out the door before either you and Suguru could utter a word.

Now, you had been alone with Suguru before—plenty of times, when Satoru had suddenly broke off from the two of you to take a closer look at things (see: recklessly spend money). But that was usually when you were out in public, where you could go and run to Satoru if you needed.

You'd never been alone with him like this—trapped within four walls.

And of fucking course, he did what he always did and—

"Why are you always smiling like that?" The question came out rougher than you intended, but your nerves were very quickly becoming frayed.

"Smiling like what?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Like you know everything—I don't know." You crossed your arms with a huff.

"You mean like how I know that you like Satoru and I." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Your arms grew slack, hands falling into your lap.

He nodded to himself, "Another tell-tale reaction. This is good…"

"How is this good?" You snapped at him. "I'm in love with the two of you, who are already in a committed relationships."

He had the audacity to look surprised for a moment before his smile widened. "You love us? That's even better."

"How can you—" You sniffled, feeling the hot tears quickly race down your cheeks. "I have been selfishly spending time with the two of you. Despite how I feel, and knowing that I should just stop associating with you. I've instead decided to intruding on your relationship, just so that I can experience the tiniest fantasy of something that will never be." You were somehow able to make through your entire confession before you broke down, curling in on yourself.

You heard Suguru sigh then a bit of shuffling before the couch dipped and you were pulled into his warm embrace, which made you cry harder.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Darling." His whispered above your head. "I should have been more upfront."

You shoved him back, looking up into his brown eyes. "Been more upfront with knowing good and well about my fucking inner turmoil."

"No," His hands slipped into yours." I should have just told you that Satoru and I feel the same way."

Your heart stopped.

There was no way that that was true. There was no way that Satoru and Suguru both felt the same way about you—and even if they did there was no way that you could choose one over the other, and you definitely wouldn't want to be the reason why they broke up either.

"Please." His voice was strained, "Just give me one chance to show you."

"I don't want to do anything behind—"

"And we won't. I'll wait until he comes back and then I'll ask for permission to kiss you. In front of him."

You sighed deeply, finally resigning yourself to your fucked up fate.

You leaned into him, "If this all goes to shit—I'll hate you forever."

"If it does go to shit, I'll accept your rightful infinite hatred."

The two of you were quite as you waited for Satoru to return. You were too exhausted to speak. Suguru was fine with that, perfectly content with rubbing circles onto your hands to help soothe you.  

And then the front door was unlocked, and your anxiety spiked.

But Suguru wasn't going to go back on his word.

"Can I kiss you now?" Suguru asked the moment Satoru stepped into the room.

Your eyes were wide, frantically looking between the two of them, while your lips opened and closed like a fish.  

Suguru placed a hand on your cheek, guiding you back to him.

He said your name, soft and sweet. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes." You said it so quietly that you weren't sure that he heard you, but he very quickly assured you otherwise as his lips met yours.

Right in front of your close friend—his boyfriend, Satoru.

It was as soft as a rose petal, acutely aware of your fragile state.

"Yes—finally!" Satoru slammed the box of donuts on the kitchen counter then rushed over, reaching out for you.

Suguru intercepted him. "You need to ask first, Satoru."

He nodded furiously at his partner before turning to you, blue eyes bright. "Can I kiss you? Please?"

You blinked at him a few time before nodding. Satoru wasted no time and grabbed your cheeks, pulling you forward to meet him half way.

While Suguru's was soft, Satoru's was rough and rushed. Like he couldn't get enough of you now that he had you.

It didn't last long though became Suguru was quick to yank him off you.  

"Slow down, Satoru." He flicked his forehand, shaking his head at his pout (your eyes kept finding his lips—they were red and shiny). "All this is new and we haven't even been given an answer yet."

"We just kissed? Isn't that enough of an answer?" Satoru asked Suguru who just gestured to you. Those blue spotlights turned on you.  "Isn't it?"

"I mean—" You bit your lip. "I haven't actually said yes or no yet, but..."

"But...?"

You pursed your lips as you glared at the two of them. "...you both better not make me regret this down the line."

Suguru smiled, and despite it being the same know-it-all smile, you felt completely and utter secured by it. "We promise, Darling."

"What? You've already got pet names? No fair!" He paused. "Wait, what exactly did the two of you do while I was gone...?"

Your favorite drink was a simple strawberry mint lemonade. Not too sweet, not too sour. It was made the same way every single time, which made sense since you'd had been coming to this hole-in-the-wall café for about six years now. Every employee, new and old, knew your name and order, so when the familiar drink was placed in the completed section on the counter, you didn't look twice at it and immediately took a sip.  

"Oh, what the fuck—Satoru, take your shit ass drink." You shoved the drink into his waiting hand, taking your own and immediately taking a plate cleansing sip.  

Suguru chuckled. "I'm surprised that after all these years, the two of you are still getting your drinks mixed up."  

"Who is we?" Satoru pointed at you, "This is the one who takes a sip without looking at the name on the side of the cup."

"That wouldn't matter if you didn't drink straight sugar—and then have the damn audacity to eat sweets with it." You eyed him, "Is your body okay?"

He smirked. "Oh, you know my body is absolutely perfect, but I'm sure we can—" Suguru flicked him in the cheek.

"Not in public."

Satoru balked at his audacity (and you to a lesser extent). "Says the one who literally—"

You lightly kicked his shin and hissed, "Not in public!"

"I can't believe my two partners are bullying me like this." He slumped in his seat. "I can't believe I have to deal with this for the rest of my life."

You shrugged, snatching one of his sweets. "You're the one who decided to put a ring on it."

"Now you're stuck with us forever." Suguru nodded in agreement.

Satoru watched the two of you fondly, a wide smile stretched across his lips.

"Yeah, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

I've finally done it.

For my 200th work, I finally gave you all the Sugu/Sato/Reader fluff you all deserved.

IT'S ALSO MY FIRST ONE-SHOT THAT'S OVER 2500 WORDS????

I really popped off for y'all (wipes away a tear).

Now time for me to binge the anime and get back to our regular scheduled programming of Tear Jerking Angst.

Please be excited :)

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[4th-make-quail]

happy WIP Wednesday, zamasian lovelies! this week i bring you more snips from the ongoing sequel to push me hard! the first two screens are earlier in the fic, then the second two are a little later, with a good chunk between!

the full text is below the cut as usual! and last week's snippet from the same fic -> here

A: [FUCK I forgot I said I’d go for drinks with Jacob and Sam after wrap…]

E: [Aw shoot, guess you’re gonna miss out then.]

A: [:(((((]

E: [Does more faces mean more sad? What even is this.]

A: [cruel cruel man. I’m gonna be stuck drinking cocktails and god knows what else and you’re just poking fun at my millennial typing habits when you could be doing anything else more fun!]

E: [Oh yeah? Like jerking it on camera for you? Sending it like a mini porno straight to your phone?]

A: [...] A: [fucking hell eric]

E: [Oh, you like that idea? Your own little movie of filth you can jerk it to when you’re on your own?]

A: [is this sexting? are you sexting me right now?]

E: [You tell me. Is this sexting?]

A: [depends. what are you wearing?]

E: [Kid, you know what I’m wearing. The same shit I was wearing all day after my shoots were done.]

A: [no fun!!!]

E: [Jeans. And I have a grey shirt on, I guess? Black undershirt, black briefs. Socks. Shall I go on? Is it too sexy for you yet?]

A: [NO FUN!!!!!!]

E: [My hand’s down my pants you know.] E: [Thinking about what we said last night. Your mouth instead of my hand.]

A: [yeah?]

E: [Yeah. You’ve got real pretty lips, I bet they’d look amazing round my cock. But since you’re busy, I guess I’ll have to entertain myself, so hand it is.]

A: [eric…]

E: [You got a hard on, baby? Thinking about being on your knees between my thighs?]

A: really fucking inconvenient hard on since i just got my coat on and now we’re off to the fucking pub. It’s a good job it’s dark.] A: [tell me more though…]

Hah. Eric palmed his cock again, rubbing down between jeans and briefs, surprised at how much this was actually starting to get him hard. He always loved to talk dirty during sex, so he figured maybe it stood to reason he’d enjoy sexting too, even if just thinking the word made him feel a hundred years old.

- - - * - - -

He sent both to Assad, then sighed. For all his grand ideas about jerking off for Assad now then having fun again later on, well. There came a point where you had to be realistic, and if he was honest with himself, Eric would much rather come in Assad’s mouth than in his own hand.

His cock twitched, and he tucked it away, fastening up his fly. Well, nothing to say he couldn’t keep texting the guy. Didn’t need a hard on for that; just his way with words.

A: [that’s really fucking hot…….]

E: [That’s your last pictures babe, don’t waste them. Tell me about your drink, and I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to you later.]

A: [last pictures? What happened to the grand porno you were gonna shoot?] A: [drink’s really good btw. STRONG. Too much absinthe for me, i got a different one. See]

A photo of a different drink was attached this time, this one in a tall, quite plain looking glass, a twist of lemon peel hanging over the edge and half of it missing.

E: [Looks good, what is it? Just wondering what you’ll taste like when I kiss you tonight.]

A: [Autumn in Chicago! Not sure how it measures up to the real thing in Chicago, but it tastes nice. Pears! And ginger too.] A: [what else are you gonna do tonight?]

E: [Pears and ginger, huh? Sounds wonderful. I was thinking about what I said last night, do you remember?]

A: [like i could forget. Pretty sure i dreamt about it, actually. I mean, you already kinda did suck my dick last night too. It was nice.]

E: [Oh, only nice? Well, guess I gotta try harder. I don’t know though, not sure I’d call that properly sucking your cock, babe. That was just an appetizer.]

A: [what’s the main course? Eric Bogosian Deep Throat Special?] A: [.....actually that sounds pretty good. I’d eat at that restaurant]

E: [It’d cost you - expensive restaurant. Four Michelin stars, you know.] E: [But yeah, pretty much my plan. Hold you close, suck you off until you cum in my mouth. Wonder if it’ll taste like pears.]

A: [wow okay. god. That’s hot. Although still pretty unfair! When do i get to suck your dick?]

E: [How about afterwards? When you’re all soft and pliable, get you on your knees and fuck those pretty lips of yours.]

A: [...] A: [...fuck]

E: [Oh yeah, you like the sound of that?]

[gren-arlio]

You guys voted Something Random, I love and hate you at the same time.

In that case...Y'all know about JUMP HERO? Welcome to...well, rambles about some random things.

(Da Satan Plant. As of writing this I just hit 51 followers. Wow.)

Hey all, Gren here. I know its been a bit since I've properly posted, and frankly, you're not wrong at all. Life's been busy, and with the rate I'm going at (going to college and whatnot, middle of the school year shenanigans,) there's no way in hell I'll be able to keep the once-a-week posting that I've done. Maybe for summer, but I dunno yet.

Also, life's been hitting me HELLA hard recently, so motivation is also not there. If YKYK.

Which leads to an announcement that I made before: I won't exactly be posting weekly anymore. I'll just... post whenever I feel like it nowadays. Adds a lot less stress for me, and I'll be able to send dumb shit about Puyo and Madou here. Ya know, like a normal blog. You might get 3 posts in a week for all you know.

But enough on that. I'm here to ramble. This won't be a Waku Puyo Extras thing or whatever, literally just things I wanna show and explain some nonsense. There's no formula. Enjoy.

----

I've been working on this stuff since April of last year, and it's been going decently well, people partially know my works. Now, what in the world do I want to show y'all this time around, since I got free will?

Well for one, I'd you've been following my work for a bit, you'd know about the pain that was finding Madou Sugoroku content, that game was so elusive to me that I was convinced it wasn't real for a period of time.

Uh, yeah. It's real. Very, very much real. And man do I love the style of the game. It's so dang pretty. I'll mention gameplay some other time, I'll cover it another time, but today's not that day.

Also. Arle's fit.

It's basically Schezo's clothes but it looks so damn good. No complaints here. Though I do wonder how she got it.

I do want to mention the Pairs though. Arle/Satan is fine, Witch/Draco have been paired since like Saturn, Schezo/Incubus at least have Waku Puyo, Minotauros/Rulue is obligatory, but what the FUCK is going on with the pairing of Sasori Man/Zoh Daimoh? The fact they got two word names?

I do wish that Draco just had a little bit more than what she has currently. I love her, she's a funny person and whatnot, I just wish there was...more, you know?

She's been a character I've been wanting to cover for god knows how long, it's just I've never had enough unique things to talk about with her. Lotta the stuff is things we do know, or Puyo Puyo Tetris [2] sorta just making her beauty obsessed.

Least in Waku Puyo, she has some comedic scenes, canonically being able to make 5 chains and confusing Schezo at least 3 times. And in the manga, she bounces off Rulue and Minotauros decently, her fight was fun to read.

(Don't ask how Rulue learned Shadow Clone Jutsu)

And for a second, let me say that the designs in this manga are top-notch. Witch's redesign is nice, Rulue's looks really good, Draco's design is great, Schezo consistently has the best clothes, and Lagnus... somehow looks even better.

Oh yea, speaking of Draco, let's look at someone who sorta kinda maybe perchance looks like her but is actually from JUMP HERO.

... I'm awful with transitions. We're talking about the series. Sorta.

So, JUMP HERO. Series made by Compile, unknown to a lot of us.

(Nexus image)

Frankly, I want to cover this game sometime. It seems so...interesting. The characters, the gameplay, the story, it all seems so interesting to me.

People like Billie Be Babine, Margarita Linda, (the black and red folks in the front), Sugar & Oligo, they all seem so damn cool. Oh, and that Penguin is some fella named Ivan. He has a reeeeeally long last name.

Oh and that robot guy is like 2 years old canonically. Needed to mention that.

This is Sugar and Oligo btw. They seem fun to talk about sometime.

(Nexus image)

The game feels so heavily unexplored. I want to see it sometime. When? Whole other story.

But with that, I think this'll end my small ramble about nothing. Thanks for reading.

Adios.

[stormcrow513]

Disposing Of Baneful Material

Ok couple things first one I'm coming off a cold and my heads still a bit fuzzy so if anything is incoherent opps my bad,

second use of general you ahead so if you're not doing what I'm talking about them this is not aimed at you,

I am not looking for an argument here,

I'm writing my own post cause I didn't want to possibly start shit with someone on another persons post,

Ok so some of y'all might know my mama is on Tumblr now @silverphantom72 she's slowly learning the ropes and slowly learning to follow people and such,

She came up to me yesterday morning, about this post that scared the crap outta her, the op was asking how people get rid of used magic material, all fine till ma got to where one person said they dump baneful material at the gas station,

Ma works at a gas station has worked at a few, understandably this freaked her out,

I couldn't really reassure her given the more thought I've given it the more it's freaked me out, let me break down my problems with this,

I'm not a love and light do no harm type, cause that's not possible that's not the world we live in, someone is always going to get hurt, but I prefer to be a sniper over a bomber, I try always to do the least harm, and putting baneful shit in a volatile area is not the least harm,

Most people likely don't get just how dangerous gas stations are so let me explain, and by dangerous I'm not only talking robberys,

People are awful at gas stations, their pissed off, and they are never paying attention to what their doing,

When COVID first started it became clear to my ma and her manager that the higher ups weren't going to put screens across the registers the way they did in the main store for those cashiers, so they asked for permission and then rigged up one themselves, and people went ballistic over it, 'whats that here for?!' they'd demand, and as soon as the word COVID left ma and here coworkers lips the person would spit on the covering and slam out the door yelling about how they hoped the workers there would catch COVID,

A man not long ago demanded ma give him free gas and she was like I literally cannot do that he started coming over the register at her til another costumer (big guy) yelled at him to knock it the fuck off, ma worried for weeks that he'd come back with a gun,

Or as she worries every day that someone will be pissed enough to follow her home,

Speaking of guns there was the time a shit ton of cops surrounded a murder suspect right on the street in front of her station and she hit the deck as they all took aim at this guy,

Or

there was that time in her old gas station job where two guys got into a knife fight inside the station and she had to run out the side door,

The coworker who got hit by a truck (she lived and is mostly ok, last ma heard)

The amount of people who run over cones sectioning off a down pump then come running in to scream about the pump not working,

All the people who pull out with the pump still attached to their car

Ect.

Gas stations are highly volatile spaces putting baneful magic scraps into that is in my opinion asking to kill someone,

Now onto the more mundane side,

Do you know who collects that trash from the trash cans, the cashiers themselves, and at least where my ma works they don't have gloves, they have to pull those bags out bare handed and trag them to the nearby dumpster,

Often ma has to push bulging trash down into the bag, or because people empty their whole car into these trash cans, beer bottles, full bottles of water, full Starbucks coffees, she often has to pull some of that trash into another bag because she can't lift it out because the bags are too heavy, (ma's almost 70 btw)

If I put something into a bag then put it in there that bag WILL get ripped open and then people like ma WILL be touching it with their bare hands, meaning any poisonous to the touch herbs? congrats you just poisoned someone, glass shards/ mirror fragments? just shredded someone's hands, a poppet with needles in it? now there in a persons hand,

When I brought this to ma's attention she gasped and told me lots of kids tend to squish the top of the trash down when it's bulging up so they can shove their trash on top, that lots of people do,

so throwing anything poisonous or slicey in the trash is very fucking likly to hurt someone.

I can't tell y'all what to do, but maybe think twice on what you're doing, just like how people have brought up don't put salt on the ground because you're killing the environment, I'm speaking up for gas station workers who, trust me, do not want to be there,

[sqtorux]

🫁 hello friend! i only have one (1) thing due tonight so i fully caught up on your works as a means of procrastinating <3 this ask is only about your two most recent posts for the sake of brevity + not spending too much time since i promised myself to get back on the grind after sending this lmao

‘fuzzy menace’ … my favourite thing is asking you to guess my fav parts even though 1) you’re never given an opportunity to guess and 2) it’s always the same characters. anyways it’s nanami and toji. 

“what’s this gentleman doing on my side of the bed i wonder?” fdkshfds ,,, great start tbh and it’s SO NANAMI. nanami tends to be (understandably!) portrayed very seriously, so seeing a more playful (albeit still stoic) side of him here was a pleasure <3 he sounds a little teasing too ?? my lord. the first line is obvi my fav but “absolutely. how outrageous.” is a close second !! short but sweet, and his voice is so strong through out it <3 look at my man watch him go!

toji is the complete opposite in energy and i fw it so much. reader and toji are always giving each other soo much shit (even if on this occasion it’s predominantly him). the switch from toji to bald toji is so … it’s so him but it was truly awful to witness. i have 1 (many) fear(s) and it’s my fav character getting hit with the jason todd special (ugly haircuts. usually a buzzcut.) toji is realising my worst nightmare rn.”fuck does he think he is smirking like that on your bed” he’s so dumb LMAO. look at that little hypocrite go.

‘look at you go’. guess my fav parts. one day i’m going to make you guess and not tell you and comment on every individual piece. it’s suguru and toji.

now is it any surprise i’m in love with suguru … “can you dance again for me princess?” i’m not even big on pet names but lordy lord hello saviour. fun fact but i LOVE dancing even though i haven’t taken lessons since i was 13 (i’ve been considering picking it back up ?? i’m not sure though, i feel like since i’m an adult it’s too late to get back into old hobbies i’ve fallen out of and take lessons, yk? plus it's so expensive ...) having that shit recorded would be mortifying i don’t blame reader in these pieces at all. “you’ll keep asking if i give in just once” to “then you can give in again and again yeah?” kill me RIGHT NOW. oh my lord. i would give in too.

sorry i would write on toji but !! ugh my brain is fried. you can probably tell since there’s a lot of personal interjections this time ,,, also suguru has been haunting my brain the past week. i want to write something for him so bad but i’ve had no ideas ?? it’s so annoying. also i’ve been too busy with schoolwork to sit down and write anything

looking back. god this ask is so long.

RAHHH ITS LUNG ANON

you're ... reading,, my shit.. during a break... THATS A HUGE HONOUR GR breaks are for only the most enjoyable stuff bc it's limited and the impeding doom of working awaits but you chose to read the stuff here omfg i will scream at your face (lovingly).

if you made me guess your faves id always go with the big three (suguru, nanami and toji) bc i know you like wdym anon we've known each other since our uterus debutation obviously.

ALSO YOU DANCE let's gooo!!! i do too and just like you, i haven't danced in a while but im broke as fuck so im self taught filming covers back in those days ah. hobbies as an adult are so hard for real, adulting is hard where is the return ticket i would like to be a tween again i know what to do this time. i think.

maybe when your workload becomes a little lighter you could type out the suguru thoughts plaguing your mind ;)

[shivunin]

Not sure if you’ve gotten Cullen yet but I will for the character opinions ask game - also Morrigan and Vivienne! <3

Hey, Saif! Thank you for asking <3 Nobody has asked about Cullen yet, so you've rounded out the collection of all my romances very nicely c:

(oh man this went long lol sorry in advance)

(Character Impressions thing)

(And: to add context, I started Inquisition first, so my first impressions of all three of them were from that game and not Origins for Cullen and Morrigan)

Cullen:

First impression: Ah. This must be the intended romance, the bland white guy everyone is into, the one the game expects you to romance. No thanks.

Impression now: I said something similar about Fenris, but like....I have thought about Cullen so much that I have no idea how to summarize my feelings lmao. He is deeply flawed and deeply hurt, but he is still trying to fix what he's done as best he's able.

Cullen was given every opportunity to take the easy road and pretend that he'd never done anything wrong; he could have taken off and chosen not to help Hawke at the end of the game, he could have chosen to join the Red Templars or stay out of the conflict entirely, he could easily have chosen to go through withdrawal in the comfort of his sister's home....and instead he chooses to be the Commander of the Inquisition.

I mean. I think playing the other two games has given me more scope for how much shit he's seen and done and that's still my conclusion: even after everything, he is still trying to be a better person and right his wrongs and I think that is deeply admirable.

(idk---maybe this is just me projecting as someone who often feels like a fuck-up, but I'll take a guy who still tries, over and over, to fix a mistake over someone who doubles down and pretends he was always in the right) (not referencing anyone specific, tbc)

Favorite moment: Anytime he falls all over himself and gets tongue-tied haha. I especially love the first kiss scene; I love that he admits that he wants something for himself, I love that after the interruption he just goes for it, I love the little mannerisms he has as a distraction from trying to find something do with his hands, and I love how fumbly he is. My second choice would probably be the scene where a romanced Inquisitor comes back to Skyhold after killing Corypheus and he bows first, then rushes to hug them. He's so relieved I just !!!

Idea for a story: *gestures to small mountain of wips* haha. But! I think my favorite one I haven't written is my No Exalted March AU/the arranged marriage AU, in which the Dalish largely dwell in a sovereign land encompassing the Dirthavaren/Halamshiral and Cullen is a marriage candidate to seal the compact between the Chantry and the Elvhen government. It's set about a year before the Conclave, so Cullen is still straddling the divide between being a Knight-Commander in Kirkwall and being the Commander we meet at the beginning of Inquisition.

(It's a really interesting fic, but it requires a bit more worldbuilding than I put in up front, so I am ~76k words in and like....ahh yes I need to actually describe what the capital city looks like. Shit. And here we are. But it's still a really cool fic idea.)

Unpopular opinion: I don't think what Cullen says during the Broken Circle quest should be marked up as proof that he's a horrible terrible person. I really can't imagine anyone being tortured psychologically and physically for weeks to months handling the stress better, tbh. I think it's awful and sad and not like, a kind thing to say, but again....he's a 19-year-old who just watched most everyone he knows be tortured to death so.

Favorite relationship: I mean, I feel like it's a given but Dorian and Cullen's friendship is really interesting to me. If I had a better handle on Dorian's voice, I'd definitely be exploring whatever led the two of them to have regular chess matches. Because ostensibly at least they don't have much in common.

Favorite headcanon: Oh man. I have so many. He and the other advisors are actually friends. He's bi (obviously). He's the shortest Rutherford. I saw art forever ago of baby Cullen fighting an inert Shale in the town square and that one lives close to my heart.

Morrigan

First impression: Holy shit she's hot, but that dress is awful. Why is the game acting like I should know her already?

Impression now: Loooooove her, it's a crime that I cannot romance her as a female Warden. She's a bitch, she's fantastically competent, she didn't really want a kid but she's a great mom, she is breaking a trauma cycle with her own mother, she's funny as fuck, she can turn into a variety of cool things, and also she's like really hot.

Favorite moment: The confrontation between her and Flemeth in the eluvian. I love that she's cast as this very mercenary, heartless character, but she chooses her kid over power pretty much without hesitation. I think it's a really beautiful moment.

Idea for a story: I have a half-written thing with her and Wen (my Tabris) bonding over animals c: Also, at some point I want to write them during Witch Hunt, because Wen adores Morrigan (she was her first friend, in many ways) and misses her horribly.

Unpopular opinion: The Dark Ritual is not a betrayal. Also...I really wish the writers had changed her dialogue in Mythal's temple if she's speaking to a Dalish elf. I understand that she represents an information source for the player, but it's a really frustrating conversation if you're playing a Lavellan.

Favorite relationship: Her and Kieran tbh. I wish there'd been more of them.

Favorite headcanon: Hmmm I like the idea of a romanced Warden raising their kid with her in the eluvians somewhere. I don't know if this is canon or not.

Also that she chose that dress during WEWH exclusively to piss Leliana off.

Vivienne

First impression: O.O wow...please...tell me she is romanceable

Impression now: I adore her. Again, I like that she can be very calculating. I also think her position on so many things (the Chantry, the Circles) is more nuanced than she's given credit for. Her personal quest breaks my heart every time and the scenes with her in Trespasser are delightful. I really, really enjoy traveling with her (oh my god, walking around with her, Dorian, and Solas is just....they are so mean to each other and I love it) and though I don't love the way she treats the other companions sometimes (specifically Cole) I think her characterization is very consistent and compelling. Honestly one of my favorite DA characters. Her intro scene is one of the best in the whole series.

Favorite moment: Her intro scene is so good, but also when she says goodbye to Bastien....ugh. it kills me every time. She has so much power and so many resources and she still couldn't save the person she loves most in the world.

Idea for a story: Hmm I've been thinking about doing a piece about her and the Inquisitor during Trespasser, because I really love a lot of her dialogue during the DLC. Also, she and Elowen have an interesting relationship and it's...mostly contained in a wip I'm not sure I'll finish T.T

Unpopular opinion: I think just liking her is an unpopular opinion lol. Or at least, that's how it seems.

Favorite relationship: Vivienne and Bull. Whaaaaat is going on there, guys???

Favorite headcanon: Hmm I can't think of anything specific right now, but I do believe that Bastien was the one person she could truly be herself with, without thinking about the benefits or angles. You know, to make his death hurt worse

[aprillikesthings]

s3 ep5 remember

I've read the synopsis of this one and I will once again attempt NOT to just describe the whole plot lol

I somehow fit all of this one into one post, huh

oof

*cries* I know this isn't real

:(

Anyway shit is already weird--she's having flashes of her Real Past, a door appears and disappears

(Also, the affectionate play-fighting they do here is part of why I tend to headcanon that Adora likes things a little rougher in bed and just has NO idea that's not the norm lol. But also, like. Catra has claws. They're not entirely retractable. And I mentioned in another post that I think her tongue is somewhere between a human's and a cat's.)

this is both so sweet and so sad

augh

is there something you're forgetting

D:

"yay I'll be in charge of a horrible polluted disaster site full of orphans trained to fight to the death!"

Scorpia knows SOMEthing is off

(Adora starts having more flashes of the real past, sees Madame Razz for a split second, has a freakout, and takes off)

Catra has a hint of what's going on and does not like it at ALL. And slaps her.

lol

stop saying that!

It's my own design It's my own remorse Help me to decide Help me make the Most of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever 🎵Everybody wants to rule the woooorld🎶

(On a related note, I've gotten to the point with these two where my brain tries to twist literally every song into being about them. As the old joke goes, any song can be about your OTP if you AU hard enough.)

Me, a person who has seen this entire show before: oh god

She had a whole week disappear on her

She goes to Scorpia and rants at her and man you can hear the panic in her voice, but of course to everyone else she just sounds COMPLETELY UNHINGED. But she mentions Catra and then Scorpia starts having the same flashes of memory/jumping around in time

awwww

Aaaand Scorpia disappeared

I hate it when that happens

At least this time her confusion about the timeline makes sense under the circumstances

I feel like Catra knows and is just denying it to herself

lol yeah

OH SHIT I forgot that Adora zaps Catra with one of those cattle prod things and just fucking bridal carries her out of the Fright Zone

Reality is collapsing in on itself and people keep disappearing and who does Adora insist on taking with her ;_;

she crash-landed a skiff in the Whispering Woods

:(

man how many times does poor Catra ask this added up over the whole show :(((

BUT IT'S NOT REAL

aaaaug they did a flashback to that scene of them as BABIES where Adora says "you look out for me, and I look out for you. Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other," and Catra replies "you promise?" and then Adora says it again in the current time and begs her "Help me fix this!" but it's just too late aaugh

aaaand now we know Catra knows exactly what's going on

Adora: "you're going to destroy everything!" Catra: "I don't care! I won't let you win!"

Catra falls into the void, Adora runs off

Anyway she runs into Madame Razz and I won't go into her little speech about how it's not too late and it's all happened before, and how Mara saved the world "and so will you!", she just needs to "go back to the beginning" and find the sword

SO SPEAKING OF SHIT THAT MAKES MY HEART RATE GO UP

AW YEAHHHH god I love how fucked-up she looks

(and episode over! I only had to delete one image to get it all in the same post.)

[ratslapper]

An Uncomfortably Goofy Movie

Goofy opened his door slowly. He could smell cigarettes and cat piss so he knew Max was home; he’d have to be careful. He tiptoed down the hallway holding the towel closed with both hands. Sweat came off of him in rivulets. His guts gurgled with every drawn out step.

Ever since Pete had clogged the master toilet Goofy had had to use the half bath off the foyer any time he needed to shit. This had been going on for fourteen months now. Everything was fine when Max was at college but this pandemic had shut everything down and Max had moved back home prematurely.

“Dad?”

Goofy froze. His bowels rumbled a threat to everyone in earshot. “Y-yes, Maxie?”

“Where are you going?” Max asked.

He knew perfectly well where Goofy was going, but the acting was his second favorite part.

“Aww, c’mon Maxi—“

Max crossed the hallway in two strides and delivered a fierce jab straight into Goofy’s stomach, but Goofy held on. He had been through this too many times now.

Max said, “oh, dad... you’re so cute when you try to defy me.”

He grabbed Goofy’s towel and yanked as hard as he could. Goofy’s naked, awful body spun through the front wall of the house like a giant’s beyblade, leaving a perfectly Goofy-shaped hole. He landed in the yard, whimpering.

Max strode out the front door onto the lawn. He was shirtless now and the sun glinted off his perfectly toned pitch-black torso. His abs were so well defined that cars drove off the road, their drivers transfixed. He approached Goofy and leaned in close. “What do we say, Dad?”

“F-fuck you, Maxie.”

“Oh dad... it seems you may have some balls left after all. We’ll fix that.”

He kicked Goofy as hard as he could in the pelvis. Goofy threw up, but he still held on. “Wow dad, I’m actually kind of impressed. Have you been training?”

“Maxie, I’m an old man. Just leave me be.”

“No dad, you know I can’t do that. Not after what you did to Roxanne.”

“Maxie that wasn’t me a-God dammit!”

Max clenched everything. “LIAR!” he roared. Glass shattered all around them for miles. Next door Peg started seizing, but Pete was too drunk to notice.

Max pulled a baton out of his cargo shorts. “WHEN WILL YOU LEARN?!”

He flicked the baton to extend it and raised it above his head. He brought the baton down on Goofy’s collarbone over and over. The first hit landed with an upsetting crunch. The next dozen landed with wet grinding sounds. Goofy threw up again.

“ARE YOU READY TO ADMIT IT YET?” Max screamed. His anger had burst so many blood vessels that the sclera of his eyes were completely red.

Goofy could barely breathe, let alone answer. Instead he just raised his middle finger to his son. Max looked to the sky and raged. The sound of his hate sent cracks through the moon. Peg had just recovered, but she was once again sent into convulsions.

Max finished his screech and looked back down. He had had enough of this game. He was finally ready to kill his father once and for all.

But Goofy was gone.

“Nothing personnel kid, a-hyuck.”

Max whipped around. Goofy’s raw asshole was aimed squarely at his face. Goofy let go. A stream of piping hot liquid post-food roughly the diameter of a hotdog issued forth hitting Max right in his open mouth. Max fell to the ground pawing at his face trying to wipe away the shit but Goofy just kept letting go. He had held this in for a week.

Max screamed and bucked. His mind accelerated beyond his control and multiple thoughts and memories vied for attention. He was losing two battles at once.

Finally, Goofy stopped. Max lay in the puddle of feces exhausted. He didn’t even have the energy to try and clean himself off.

“I’m sorry Maxie,” said Goofy. He sat on Max’s face, making sure to line himself up with Max’s mouth. He let go again and began to fill Max’s stomach like the world’s worst mama bird.

His son’s stomach inflated rapidly. It distended so that his belly button poked out like in a cartoon. When he was finally done, he grabbed a piece of glass from the lawn and drove it into Max’s formerly perfect abs. The pressure of its contents caused his entire torso to rupture as the shit desperately sought freedom.

“Gorsh,” he whispered.

Goofy got up, not even bothering to look at his son. He hobbled inside and called his best friend Mickey. He had a lot of cleaning to do, and Mickey owed him more than a few favors.

[uni-writes-things]

I've decided to start this with the first fic I've ever posted. It's not the best but...meh. The first chapter of the fic is under the cut, but if you're interested in the rest, the ao3 link is there.

Time's POV

“Not another portal! We just got here!” Wind groaned.

I couldn’t help but agree, Lon Lon Ranch was the only break we have in between fighting monsters. “Alright everyone, pairs.” I ordered.

Legend and Sky hopped through, and then shortly after Wind and Warriors followed. Soon everyone was through. “You okay there Old Man?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. Is Four conscious?” I glanced at a pale Four.

“Mmmph.” Four moaned to confirm he was still awake.

“How are you feeling?” Hyrule immediately raced to his side.

“Guys...” Wind whispered.

“I’m a little nauseous and I have a headache.” Four sighed.

“Guys!” Wind urged louder this time.

Nobody seemed to notice him though. “Just rest smithy okay?” Hyrule nodded.

Phew, Four was good. I had always offered to carry him when he was unconscious but it was tiring. “GUYS!” Wind yelled alerting everyone.

“What?” Warriors stared.

“Who’s Hyrule is this?” Wind huffed annoyed at the chain.

Choruses of ‘not mine’s’ from each of the chain were heard. “So, it’s none of ours?” Twilight asked confused.

“Seems to be the case pup.” I shrugged.

“Wait does that mean there’s another Link out there?” Sky blinked.

“We can only assume. Should we try and find a place to stay?” Warriors asked me.

The land was vast and untamed, it was beautiful. I nodded, it was really our best chance at finding a Link. The chain started walking again. “This Hyrule is so huge and beautiful. It reminds me of my Hyrule.” Twilight sighed happily.

I realized it had been weeks since we had been to Twilight’s Hyrule. “If this Hyrule means walking even though my feet hurt like shit I’m gonna quit.” Legend complained.

“Can’t take hikes Vet? Don’t tell me your turning into the Old Man.” Warriors teased.

“NO!” Legend spluttered with an offended look on his face.

Honestly, those two could spend days bickering. “Guys, there are these...ruins here.” Hyrule brought everyone’s attention to the utterly destroyed ruins.

Everyone, including me seemed to be at unease with this sight. “Well fuck.” Legend commented.

“Language.” I reprimanded him... as usual.

“Let’s move on.” Warriors grabbed Wind and started dragging him away.

“Wars, what are you doing?!” Wind wailed as he tried to escape.

“Getting out of here. These ruins aren’t exactly a place to stay.” Warriors deadpanned.

For hours, all of us walked. “My feet feel numb.” “Shit did we go in circles?” “Damn this place is massive.”

“We better set out camp. Who’s cooking tonight?” I asked.

“I think it was my turn. And I found...” Hyrule trailed off.

“NO WAY!” Wind shrieked as he tackled Hyrule.

“Yeah the last time you cooked traveler, you practically killed everybody.” Four laughed.

“I’m not that awful at cooking! Sky’s way worse than me.” Hyrule accused.

“I don’t poison everybody!” Sky shot back.

“Yours was basically alive!” Hyrule snorted.

“I can cook some of my Grandma’s soup?” Wind suggested tentatively.

“It’s okay sailor you’ve cooked enough.” Twilight gagged.

“You just don’t like the broth! Everybody else said it was decent.” Wind accused.

These boys were going to give me a headache. “Your cooking sucks! Everything is dry and burnt to a crisp!” Wind cried.

“What?! Nothing is burnt.” Twilight growled.

“Even I can agree with Wind.” Legend snickered.

“Oh like your any better.” Twilight snarled.

“Fuck off rancher.” Legend hissed.

“Language.” Sky grunted pausing his bickering with Hyrule for a few seconds.

Soon the only ones who were calm and collected were me and Four. Albeit Four was beside himself with laughter at the insults that were shot, his eyes a royal blue. “BOYS!” I yelled.

Everybody paused and looked at me expectantly.

“We all know our opinions on this group’s culinary skills, however we still have a Link to find and a place of civilization to also find. Not only that but we all need food and rest. It will not be achieved by arguing like this.” I sighed exasperated.

“Sorry Time.” Wind apologized.

A few other apologies were sent my way as well. “I can make something, the rest of you can make yourselves comfortable.” I mumbled.

“Okay.” Warriors nodded.

The tension decreased almost instantaneously. “Did I tell you how I got to the Forsaken Fortress?” Wind asked nonchalantly.

“You told us that Aryll was kidnapped and that you went to go save her.” Twilight recalled.

That was true. I felt so bad, Wind had lost his sister and then was dragged into a Hylia forsaken quest.

“Well, back on Outset Grandma was so sad that Aryll was gone. I felt like I had to do something, so I searched the island for a way to go and find her. That’s when I met Tetra and her gang. Eventually I said my goodbye’s to everybody on Outset and then left with her. We had made it fairly close and then realized patrol boats were guarding the Forsaken Fortress. So at the last moment she revealed to me her ridiculous and sinister plan. She promptly stuck me in a barrel and launched me off of a catapult! When I got back to her I gave her the most terrifying glare.” Wind explained.

“She launched you off a catapult without warning?” Sky looked rather alarmed.

“Yeah. I did make it to the Fortress though I was a little shook. Nothing I can’t handle!” Wind put on his brave face.

“Jeez.” Four muttered.

“That reminds me of something Sun did.” Sky recalled wistfully.

“Pray tell.” Legend snarked.

“It all started when we were training for the Wing Ceremony. It was to prove that we could move on to being seniors. It involves racing on a loftwing. So Sun shoved me off Skyloft waiting for me to call Crimson. She thinks Crimson will appear. I try 3 times and yet no loftwing comes to catch me. Sun noticed and she got on her blue loftwing and rescued me. She was honestly sorry.” Sky told them.

“Wait what happened? Why didn’t Crimson come?” Hyrule asked.

“It turns out that Groose happened to be a bully back then. He loved Sun and saw me as competition. So he sabotaged me and trapped my bird somewhere in Skyloft so I wouldn’t be able to join the ceremony.” Sky sighed.

I stirred the soup I was making carefully. ‘So Hylia’s incarnation was just as clumsy as her.’ I thought bitterly. I never held any respect nor honour for Hylia. “Well, we should come up with a plan for tomorrow.” The Captain proposed.

“We’ve been wandering aimlessly for hours so doing that again won’t do anything.” Twilight grunted.

“Does anybody have a way to fly? They could scout what’s up ahead.” Legend suggested.

“Not without Crimson.” Sky grimaced.

“Nope.” Wind shrugged.

“Not in a millennia.” Four chuckled.

“No.” I answered.

“I don’t fly.” Warriors snickered.

“Okay, Pretty Boy but your ego does doesn’t it.” Legend mocked.

“No flying for me.” Twilight shook his head.

“I don’t have the magic to fly.” Hyrule groaned.

“Do you know how to fly Legend?” Wind asked.

“No otherwise I would have been fucking airborne already.” Legend scoffed.

“So no to that plan. Can I climb a tree? Please?” Hyrule begged.

“Only if you promise to come to us right after.” I agreed albeit a bit reluctantly.

“Yes sir!” Hyrule saluted and then started his climb.

He was out of sight when I noticed my soup was ready. “Dinner’s ready.” I informed the chain.

I handed out the soup to everyone including myself and sat down. I’ll admit my soup was not that good. But it wasn’t bad either so I counted that as a victory. “HYRULE?” Four yelled after a few moments.

“YES?” Hyrule called from above.

“COME HERE!” Four demanded.

A few seconds and Hyrule was back down with a bowl of soup. “So, did ya see anything?” Wind asked excitedly.

“This Hyrule is massive! And we’re on what looks like a plateau, with huge cliffs. The only one who could go down the cliffs is Sky with his sailcloth. There’s no civilization and the castle...the castle is in ruins.” Hyrule reported.

“The castle is in ruins?” I was very concerned.

“Yeah. Also get this, there were four weird mechanical looking creatures. One was a lizard on what looks to be Death Mountain. There was an elephant on a very shiny mountain. A bird on a tall cliff, and a beast with a long neck in a canyon.” Hyrule shrugged.

“How big were they?” Legend raised an eyebrow.

“Enormous!” Hyrule replied.

“And they were mechanical?” Warriors tilted his head.

“Well, they weren’t alive that’s for sure.” Hyrule affirmed.

“This is odd. So do we search this plateau assuming there’s civilization?” Twilight wondered.

“That’s probably our best bet if we hope to find this Link.” I guessed.

“Who’s taking first watch?” Four asked.

“I can.” Twilight offered.

“I’ll take second.” Warriors claimed.

“Anyone want to take third watch?” I asked.

Four threw his hands up to stretch probably. “Smithy can take it.” Legend snickered.

“I-uh didn’t-”

“Good idea, Four is on third watch.” I interrupted Four.

The Smithy sat back and glared at me. “I can tell you guys another story!” Wind bounced.

“I think we’ve had enough sea shanties. Am I right?” Legend interrupted.

“Leeeeeegeeeend.” Wind moaned.

“Wiiiiind.”

“How bout everybody tells the scariest thing they’ve fought?” Twilight recommended.

I internally thanked Twilight for the save. “Redeads are really creepy but if I had to say the scariest, it would have to be the Cubus Sisters. They wear masks and they were on this...this...” Wind suddenly went from excited to dreaded.

I did not like that haunted expression on his face. “It’s okay sailor you don’t have to finish.” Warriors comforted.

Although Warriors seemed worried too. “Yeah, I can tell you mine. I fought the moon.” I deadpanned.

It was true. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Legend snorted.

“Is he serious?” Hyrule asked puzzled.

“I-I don’t know. I can’t tell!” Twilight whined.

I was enjoying this, watching the befuddled chain. “I fought this thing called a Blizzeta.” Twilight shuddered.

“Enough scary talk! I’m tired.” Four demanded.

“Alright well it is time to sleep. Twilight you’re first watch.” I reminded him.

Everybody yawned and crept to their bedrolls. I noticed Wind was crying as quietly as humanely possible. Maybe the Cubus Sisters thing really scared him? Hopefully Twilight or somebody would help Wind sleep, because I was already being pulled into sleep.

[the-supernatural-rewatch-project]

s1e2 "Wend*go"

supernaturals second episode, and its first (and certainly not last) to feature a monster of the week taken and bastardized from indigenous mythologies or folklore... why am i rewatching this again? let the records show that i am white, and all the indigenous voices who i have heard / read have lead me to make the decision to censor the name w*. okay with the housekeeping out of the way, what's sloppy sam and daddy issues dean upto this week.

aw man the recap made me angry again that jess died. i miss her. all three minutes of screentime she had.

oh boy i wonder whats gonna happen to these poor campers

brooo they got the ds local play!!!! takes me back

how do they still have battery in thier cells/ds's on day SIX OF CAMPING???

cory monteith :')

and they are dead

okay so how long has it been since the events of the last episode? the existence of the monster of the week as an episodic style implies a quick succession between episodes, but the fully completed gravestone for jess implies that it has been a quick minute since she dies (also apparently she dies november 5th 2005, i didn't know the exact date was know so thats interesting!)

like gravestones take a hot minute, especially the fancy kind with the pictures.

BUT there still isn't grass over her grave,and cemetery gardeners are QUICK with the sod after someone is buried... so like... did jessica already have a grave with her name and birthdate engraved, and it just needed date of death and the picture??? (not unheard of but unlikely for someone her age)

wait, im dumb as fuck. she died on the cealing of a suspicious house fire, she has been in a coroner or medical examiners office for a while, she was just buried but its been a bit since she died leaving time for the engraving.

^^^ this nerd almost became a funeral director.

oh yeah, i like the nod to carrie.

WAIT IT WAS A DREAM. it means nOTHING. and even if it was a dream it was written by someone who wouldn't think about the amount of time to engrave a toombstone

of okay so its been atleast a week since jess's death.

oh yeah, its john who is sending them to blackwater ridge, i forgot about his whole sending them on hunting trips shit he did at the beginning.

"i think i know how you feel" the first and last time dean shows emotion and it feels genuine.

forgot how 'old' the tech feels, and how magical it was.

magical laptop nand its magical ability to solve any problem dads journal cant solve.

the way they describe the w* is quite nice, you cant see it its too fast, it unlocked the door. it really brings out the unsettledness of a monster you cant see.

does dean really think ''corporal' is too fancy??? like girl

oh god i forgot the creepy cave.

aaaaaand cory is dead :(

okay, nvm deam had two (2) genuinely tender moments in the episode.

"not even crickets"

oh god i forgot about it using the voices to lure them.

this is one of the episodes that i cam remember a lot of, but god its still creepy.

okay it taking the packs was smart

oh boy dads journal, i wonder what magical answer it will have this time

"no body likes a skeptic roy", just fuck him dean!! its not gay if you are camping!!! everyone knows that.

"saving people hunting things, the family business" god i hate that line. there was once a time where i genuinely wanted that tattooed on me. thank fuck you cant get a tattoo at 14.

its really interesting how they are coping differently with johns disappearance, dean see's it as him giving them a job, whereas sam sees it as him being in trouble.

once again, i can see why wincest was the big ship, not for me... but i can see why.

OH NO ROY IS GONNA DIE!!!!, anyways

vey well timed body dropping from a tree

also does kripke have like a thing for brod dripping on poeple because uhhh... two episodes in and we are at three instances of blood dripping on people.

if the saddle club has taught me ANYTHING its that you defo shouldn't go down an abandoned mineshaft

its too dark i cant see

magic flareguns, why were they in the cave??? just to solve a problem the writes wrote themselves into???? yup!

deans first thought of how to lure it out was to start yell flirting. okay gayboy.

it just looks like... a gargoyle?? i feel like they could have done "human turned into a monster better" then just, paint them grey and give it strange ears. to be fair i have a very high standard of what a good 'human turned into a monster' should be because the s2 of the x files finale where mulder and scully are in the train car with the 'alien's' that are actually humans, deduced from their smallpox inoculation scars is peak television. PEAK TELEVISION!!!

also, i am now requited to start a tally of how many rewatches i can bring up the x files in.

the actress who plays Haley (Gina Holden) looks so familler to me, but i looked at her imdb and noting is ringing a bell

sam drives the impala.

okay, well that was an episode. asides from the butchering of the wend*go story/mythology to fit the show. it wasn't a bad episode. its pretty hard to fuck up a monster of the week episode. again, i didn't like the prosthetics that they used for the wend*go. but asides from that... its fine. its okay. its a solid episode. it's not the best, and its not the worst. sam and dean have a nice heart to heart. yeah. very mid episode.

[darkspace7]

[That Which Protects The Falling Rain] Pt.2

[Part 1]

[Chapter Summary]

"So You Somehow Survived The Apocalypse And Have Jumped Timelines, What Do You Do Next? Get Sick And Spend A Week Regretting Life Apparently." A Novella By Uryū Ishida (Co-Written By Ichigo Kurosaki) Or, the aftermath of the first chapter in which we see first hand how things can never be easy for a traumatized teenager who somehow managed to kill God several times over. Also some friends show up. Misunderstandings ensue.

[A/N]

Anyways, here's the next chapter which I'm just as surprised as you all that this thing exists. And to think it only took me a damned year and running through two different laptops bring it to you all. (May you find peace in whatever tech afterlife there may be my dear Toshiba-san and let Honne-san carry on your memory for years to come.) It...most certainly has been a year. Well, here's ya'll's bunch of headcanons and worldbuilding stacked together on top of one another in a trenchcoat. Enjoy.

His head ached.

(…Urgh. What the fuck happened? Did I get rammed by a truck?)

Feeling as though he had just fell from a great height, consciousness slowly returned to him as he made his journey out from the oppressive dark into the muzzy blur that was the waking world.

(Maybe a hollow chucked me into the side of a building again. Holy fucking shit that hurts…)

With a slit eye, he stared out at the fuzzed miscellanea that surrounded himself with a brief haze of confusion until the cobwebs dusted themselves from his mind and he recalled –oh yeah, that’s right, I wear glasses- and groped around himself searchingly. Upon location, he slipped them on and waited as the world resolved itself around him and a few things made themselves glaringly apparent.

The first: he felt absolutely awful. There was a deep ache down to his very soul and every single piece of him felt raw. As if he had been stripped of his skin and then had it stretched over his bare skeleton and pinned back into place by a bunch of searing hot sewing needles prickling his…well…everything.

Second: he was currently back at home, in his bedroom with no real idea as to how he had come to be there. However, he had the indescribable notion that he had previously been somewhere very different and nowhere even remotely near the place whatsoever. (But if that were the case then just where had he been? And how…)

(Don’t think about it.)

And finally the most important thing: why the hell was he on the floor of all things? Urgh. (Even if he did have a rather nicely done rug that he had stitched together all by himself in his spare time –thank you very much- covering the cold hardwood beneath that was still asking for any variety of aches and pains that would hit him the very moment he sat up.) Had he had a nightmare and accidentally rolled out of bed? Well, that would explain the vague sense of creeping dread that lingered at the fringes of his mind. As if he were forgetting something important.

(Don’t think about it.)

(It had been a while since he’d had a nightmare, now that he thought about it. Truly, when had been the last time he’d woken up in a cold sweat with the air all knotted up in his chest as he struggled to breathe. Hand outstretched as he continued to reach for out for his mother grandfather but was never quite able to catch as it faded to black. How he bit back the silent screams that wanted to escape as so not to wake his sisters or his old man with the noise. But didn’t he live alone? He was an only child after all and -outside of brief snippets brought about some by rather extenuating circumstances- he hadn’t actually held a conversation with his father in literal ages. Calling their relationship strained would be generous at the best of times and it would seem as they would never even have a chance to mend it because the very last time he had saw the man it had been as he was fishing the silvered arrow out from his emaciated corpse-)

(Don’t think about it.)

(Hold on a second, even in the middle of the night it was never this quiet at his house. Where were the soft sounds of his sisters puttering about? The thuds of old goat-face as he trounced about getting himself ready for another long day at the clinic? Hell, he couldn’t even hear Kon as he scurried about doing god-knows-what like the little menace he was. Also his room looked nothing like this? Where the fuck was he???)

“Ichigo. Oh my god, just shut up. You’re giving me a headache.” He groused, staring blankly up at his ceiling.

…Wait.

(…Ishida?)

“…Ichigo???”

…Oh shit.

He jerked up (ignoring the rolling twist of his stomach as he did so) with a gasp as the feeling of hot knives were suddenly being rammed through his skull as he they thought about it.

Clutching at his head as if his life depended on it, short breaths hissed through gritted teeth as the fiery static subsided leaving a bitterly cold ache in its wake. He let out a hysterical half-sob as things continued to click into place as he remembered.

And oh dear sweet god did he remember.

(‘That…that was just a nightmare?’ It wasn’t. ‘All of that actually happened?’ Yeah...)

And now? After suffering through all of …that… they were just –what- shunted off to some alternate dimension? Thrown back in in time? Or maybe he genuinely had went mad from the stress of all those battle and what he was experiencing now was all just a dying dream as the void slowly consumed his soul.

(How morbid.)

But…

But if they truly had made it back…

Turned back the swing of the pendulum to before…

(Before Aizen had made his grandiose move. Before Yhwach rose up from the millennia old shadows with his army to enact his revenge. Before the subsequent collision. Before he failed so thoroughly at his role as a protector, swept up instead by the whims of supposed fate. Before he foolishly sought a place at the royal bastard’s side just so he could drive a stake in his deadened heart at the first chance. Before their thoughtlessness got everyone killed.)

He had to be certain. He had to check.

(Quick get your phone, check it! Hurry!)

The mad dash for the device had his sock-clad feet slip up on the bare hardwood and in the process he smacked his arm into the bedside table before he caught himself on its edge. Ignoring the bruise that was sure to form, he swiped the object from its charging dock. With a sense of trepidation, he flipped it open, wide eyes scanning for the date and stared.

There on the digital readout they stood, the numbers a stark contrast against his pale background. Right now, it was currently three-fifteen in the morning, around two years off from the date he last remembered. It hadn’t been a dream.

(It wasn’t a dream. They were back. Oh my god-)

At a loss for words, he let the device clatter to the ground, bonelessly following suit as he was slowly but surely consumed by the sort of numb disassociation that came from experiencing two weeks’ worth of repressed emotions from a lost future all at once.

He stared blankly at his hands.

They were shaking.

(I can’t believe it, we’re really back! This means that bondage-fucker’s plan actually worked holy fuck-)

Yeah, great.

The indistinct weight of another’s attention, shifting at the edge of one’s perception that could be felt but only just so. The subtle widening of eyes unseen.

(Ah, hey Uryū you good?)

Was he…good?

(Okay, yep. Stupid question. Ah...)

A wince trailed by conciliatory motion. The throes of night given substance, black-as-pitch and impossibly heavy but so very kind. This presence settled tentatively upon his shoulders. (Because of course he would; that even like this he would prioritize others over himself because that’s just who Ichigo was. Even if it was in part because of your own actions that led to everyone else getting killed –himself included- he’d still have the heart to treat you like a care-worn quilt. Even if you didn’t really deserve it.)

His breath hitched.

(Hey, easy, none of that now. I need you to do something for me, real important. Yeah? Think you can manage it?)

What?

(Okay, so I’m gonna need you to breathe in to the count of five, hold it, then release. Could you do that for me?)

He grimaced faintly. Why was he asking him to do something so asinine?

(Don’t question it dumbass. Just do it. Yeah, just like that. In…)

And so he did, despite feeling like a total idiot, the teen continued follow along to the beat of the other’s directions. But even so, he couldn’t help but notice as the knot in his chest seemed to lessen a bit more with every passing moment.

(Hold it. Keep at it. You’re doing fine.)

Ah, wait. He was having a panic attack wasn’t he? Like himself, Ichigo grew up among medical staff so it figures that he would have some sense of what to do if something like this occurred. (So why was it that he couldn’t have remembered the steps himself and spared them both the trouble of having to sit through something like this?How pathetic.)

(…And release. There. Now, you holding up a bit better?)

As he came back to himself, the presence drew back slightly but lingered around the edge of perception, almost as if uncertain whether or not to leave him be. Regardless, he didn’t quite trust the stability of his voice at the moment so in lieu of that he aimed a wave of weary appreciation in the other’s general vicinity. And judging by the sensation of a terse nod not his own, he understood.

(Okay? So…we’re in the past. Or an alternate dimension. Or...something. Holy shit. Okay, focus. Now. What do we do next? We can’t fuck this up like we did last time. So the main thing now is: we need a plan.)

“Mhm.” He agreed, blearily allowing gravity to draw him back down to the floor. The teen let himself sink into the soft blue-and-white rug. Face somewhat muffled, he said: “I’m open to suggestions.”

So, following Ichigo’s lead, they began to hash things out with the starting bullet point being the one thing they did know and then tacked on to that.

(Now, just so we're clear, this is all operating under those previously mentioned assumptions because the alternatives are just...no. Got it?)

A nod.

(Good. Okay, so as it currently stands that whole prophecy shit hasn’t fully come into play yet so we have a little bit of a leeway on that front. The way I figure it, Yhwach won’t be at his full power for another two years –give or take- which gives a set span of time that we can use for preparation. We’ll need every second of it too because, realistically, any hope we have right now of just offing him and being done with it we probably can’t feasibly pull off.)

“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” He said into the carpet only to earn the feeling of a mildly annoyed look and gentle thwack on his already aching head. He rolled his eyes with a grumble as the other –satisfied that there would be no further interruption- settled.

(As I was saying: That’s because I guarantee you the moment we do try poking around a bit, we risk not only setting his entire Quincy army on us but any fumbling with that will probably alert the Gotei 13 and by extension Sōsuke. We can’t forget that right now he has that bullshit hypnosis spell over everyone over there because he’s still pretending to be a good guy or whatever. ‘Sides, you and me both know how badly we’d get our collective ass kicked trying to solo a war against three different armies at the same time.)

Not that they still wouldn’t try if things ever came to that.

But, still, priorities.

“We don’t exactly know the full scope of their resources or capabilities right now nor have we really had the chance to take stock of our own situation. I mean, it was kind of a mess toward the end there so how can we be sure of what carried over and what didn’t?” Dark eyes squinted up at the ceiling as he rolled over and proceeded to ignore the severe headache behind his eyes from the motion. He could curl into a ball and wish he was dead later there were more important things to deal with right now.

“There’s also the added mess of how we’re gonna find a place where we could feasibly test them out without everyone and their mother coming to snoop.” Maybe they could see about sneaking into his father’s practice range? But then again, that ran the risk of drawing the elder Quincy’s attention and then he would –urgh- actually have to talk to his dad.

(Right. Because that would definitely lead to some awkward questions. Good point. Uh, hey Uryū what do you figure would happen if you were to square up two instances of something like “The Almighty” against one another? Would they be matched and cancel each other out or would that, like, break reality or something?)

They contemplated this for a second before deciding it was something to come back to later.

(So training and then what? More spy shit? Scoping things out?...Maybe going to grab you some painkillers or something?)

Ignoring that last jab he let his eyes fall shut, “I was thinking more along the lines of gathering allies.” He could sense the other perk up a bit. “On the Quincy side of things, I know for certain that there’s at least one person we could probably convince to join our cause and that could potentially give us an in to what the others are doing right now.” He carded his hand through the carpet’s fibers, blue-&-white wool soft against callused fingers. “Not only that, but we’d also have to find some way to sway your Reaper friends to our side. Because I hate to say it but without their added firepower the chances of us actually pulling off this little venture are next to nil. Whatever we do, we have to make sure it’s done right from the very outset if we want any of it to go according to plan.”

(Urgh, check your phrasing dude. The way that you said it there makes it feel like you’re trying to pull off a bootleg Sōsuke impression or something. Gross.)

With his free hand the teen flipped him off.

(Alright, sheesh. Don’t bite my head off. Anyways… So to sum it all up: The main issue we’re facing right now is lack of resources and we can’t do much until we have more info on how to go about getting those resources and so as it stands we’ll probably have to wing it until can be sure there are people in our corner that we can trust to get this shit done.)

“Yeah. Basically.”

(…We’ve done more with worse odds.)

“…That’s not very comforting, Ichigo.”

(I know but it’s all I’ve got so deal with it.)

The mutual urge of wanting to stick a tongue out at the other was a strong one and he would have probably followed through on it if his stomach hadn’t picked that exact moment to turn over on itself. He stifled a moan as he rode it out, hand clenching and unclenching with every wave of pain. Shit. Was it just him or was it warmer in there than usual? To distract himself from heat licking at his veins (and the increasing wave of concern he could feel radiating out from the other) he offered: “B-But on the brightside I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones who remember any of this anyway. So unlike everyone else we’re not starting at zero. We have the advantage.”

(…Right, okay. That brings us to up to what stuff we could change and what we probably shouldn’t.)

He nodded. “True, if we change too much that could be bad too. All that knowledge would be useless and…” Just the very thought of seeing the others have to face a world worse off than the one prior left a lump in his throat. (No. Absolutely not. That cannot be allowed to happen. I’ll protect them, this time.)

(I won’t watch them die again. I r e f u s e.)

Swallowing thickly, the sensation of bile built at the back of his throat alongside a groan. He pressed his palms to his eyes and let out a curse, low and vehement. His body was already feeling like an overused pincushion and this sure as hell didn’t help any. He couldn’t deny it any longer, something was wrong. Of course being thrown into an alternate past what-have-you as they had been would have some sort of cost because why wouldn’t it? God, nothing could ever be easy for them, could it?

And then there was Ichigo hovering behind his eyes, the other teen’s agitation practically overflowing from the writhing mass of eventide-in-shadowy dark. The balmy presence pressed forward, likely spurred on by his waning attention. He could feel the unspoken question on the other’s non-existent lips.–

Was he okay?

–So he hurriedly pushed himself up and bolted for the bathroom to release the meager contents of his stomach.

To which the answer was: No. He was not.

{+-----}>

Uryū Ishida was not a happy camper.

Between the ever-worsening waves of pain rolling throughout his very being as he clung to the seat of chilled porcelain they managed to work out that if your (admittedly overpowered) future self is suddenly dumped into your past body with no preparation or warning whatsoever it tends to have rather severe consequences.

Obviously.

The centerpiece of this being that evidently the sheer existence of their combined spiritual pressure was incompatible with his present, very mortal, and squishy body.

Which made sense, he supposed, seeing as they were currently a slapdash hodgepodge of Gemischt Quincy, an imprint of the genetic medley that had been Ichigo Kurosaki, the scrapings of the God-Progenitor of pretty much all modern day Quincy that had come from when aforementioned teenager had consumed the other, and whatever the holy fuck Aizen tossed in with that glowing-death-orb of his at the last minute before he too decided to dip out from existence.

(Sōsuke, still capable of screwing them over even from beyond the grave, the fucking bastard.)

Really, it was no wonder that his body had no idea how to deal with that clusterfuck of a mess. Hell, even he had trouble wrapping his head around it and he was living it. Even so, do you know what happens when a body doesn’t know how to deal with something exceedingly confusing and stressful? It tends to break down.

Violently.

But, like the deus ex machina it assuredly was, it seemed the hōgokyu was not quite done dragging him through the ringer with all the reality-bending fuckery it was known for.

Again and again, it felt as though every little piece of him was being ripped asunder only to be slapped back together not a half-second later by the scraps of the purple wishing-orb’s lingering essence in a twisted loop of make-unmake-remake. And you know, experiencing every single solitary second of this with not a moment’s chance to breathe before the whole process restarted itself as the body simultaneously tried to keep itself alive and reject its very presence really fucking sucked.

Fuck, the only reason it seemed he had not lost himself to the pain was that there was too much riding on this whole venture for him to even dare to dream of doing so. Combine that with the fact that he was also fueled by a spectacular amount of what was equal parts raw determination and sheer stubborn spite that had successfully kept him more-or-less sane –if not rather unhappy- during this whole ordeal.

(And –if failing even that- he still had Ichigo. The other’s seemingly uncanny ability to know when to swoop in and be able to distract him with the oddly soothing sensation of a hand carding through his dark hair and the steady stream of wordless nonsense that still somehow managed to heft the weight of -comfortsafedon’tworryyou’llbeokayI’mhere- that pulled him away from the tides of agony. Carrying him until he was close enough to shore that could finally take step back and breathe was something he would be eternally grateful for.)

So the teen had spent the next –he didn’t even know really…Day? Week? Time had lost all meaning to either of them as he drifted about the achy haze- alternating in the intermedium between staying curled up in his bed and being sprawled out in various spots around his modestly sized apartment as he not so low-key wanted to die.

And he likely would’ve stayed that way, contemplating how he thoroughly hated this new world already if it had not been for the sudden appearance of a loud knock upon his front door late one afternoon.

The teen groggily lifted his head from the warm blanket swathed couch from where he had decided to nest that morning and looked at the entryway with a sort disbelieving stare as he thought for a moment that he might have hallucinated the whole thing. That is until the sharp noise that once again cut through the silence of the living room proved that he –in fact- had not imagined it.

Had it really been so long that someone had finally taken note of his (or perhaps his previous self’s) leave of absence? Perhaps, but then again who would even care enough to then actually go through the effort of hunting down the rather out of the way building that he resided in for a not-so-quick social visit? He wracked his brain for a moment before quickly giving it up for a loss. Well, whoever it was they seemed really determined to get his attention if the way they were really going to town on that poor door was any indication.

But to open it and give them the satisfaction? Hm…

(Look, if it’s just some solicitors you can tell them to fuck off and then go back to wallowing in misery or whatever it is you want to do okay? Just go see who it is before they break down the damn door.)

He honestly didn’t want to get up from his spot though. It was warm there and the pain seemed to have lowered itself into almost tolerable levels today so he wasn’t really keen on doing anything that might’ve summoned the wretchedness back into existence.

…Even though the noise was kind of starting to give him a headache.

He wondered if he ignored them for long enough then maybe whoever was there would finally decide to give up and go away.

(Fat chance. Listen, if you aren’t going to do it then I will.)

Blue eyes widened as a flicker of alarm shot through him. Fumbling with the blanket’s grasp, he finally succeeded in extracting himself and sat up. “Ichigo don’t you dare-”

(For though the vast majority of their brief time together had admittedly been spent wracked with some form or pain or another they couldn’t say that they had been completely idle during the short reprieves. For a while they had attempted to return to their impromptu plotting session only to soon realize that they were getting nowhere. So, with nothing else to show for it, conversation once again shifted to other things.

Anything and everything that came to mind worked to serve as a distraction; from the stupid everyday banalities of their shared past– {such as the redhead’s lamentation for his personal book collection, now forever lost to time. And –really- with the way the other presented himself he would have never pegged him as a fan of Classical English literature with a focus on Shakespeare of all things. Although he had to admit, the unending variety of quotes that the teen could seemingly recall at the drop of a hat was both impressive and kind of dorky.} –to bodily quirks they would have never known about the other had this never happened– {There had been a rather nasty spot of dizziness earlier when the body had stood up too quickly that had managed to catch both boys flat-footed but before the elder teen could work himself into a tizzy Uryū sheepishly proceeded to admit that –actually- he might’ve have had naturally low blood pressure and that this sort of thing was not all that uncommon for him? This did nothing to assuage his concerns and despite the dark-haired boy’s repeated reassurances he still had his doubts. But as he sat back and watched as his friend chose to further expand his study on the modern caterpillar what with the veritable cocoon of assorted blankets now wrapped around his frame he decided he was willing to the matter drop…for now.} – it was all fair game.

But soon even those topics ran dry and in the lull of things the young Quincy finally turned to address the elephant in the room: their involuntary state of cohabitation. The whole mess was tricky enough as it was but if they didn’t want to spend the rest of their ungodly existence stuck alternating between snapping at each other’s heels and walking on eggshells then there was going to have to be some ground-rules.

And for the most part Ichigo agreed, if only for the sake of what was left of their collective sanities and the thin hope that this would help them successfully navigate their curious new…dynamic.

But still, who could have foreseen that the young hybrid’s past experience in wrangling unruly inner-selves would’ve come in handy when hashing out negotiations for shared bodily autonomy with his younger cousin/friend?)

But while that was surprisingly less stressful than what either teen expected for it to be that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any slip-ups in other fields, after all they were forging through untraversed ground here so there was bound to be some interesting incidents every now and again.

Such as the first time Uryū had found himself unintentionally shoved into the backseat by the elder teen. Something that had been an exceedingly unnerving event for both parties involved which had –thankfully- had only lasted about the span of a heartbeat before he somehow managed to wrestle the other’s presence back to wherever it was that the other currently resided.

(And even though the other had since apologised for it and he knew that Ichigo wouldn’t truly abuse this power without his consent unless something was deeply wrong because that just wasn’t who he was the incident remained etched in his mind. Just, the idea that someone else could take control like that brought forth an instinctual sort of panic that he couldn’t quite quash.)

But that was all that he managed to get out before he found himself being (oh so very gently) tugged away from the reins, unable to do anything but watch his body leveraged itself up and off the couch before moving over towards the door. He floundered for a bit before he found himself thrust back into control. The transition was so jarring that it sent a wave of dizziness strong through him that he had to clutch at the side of the genkan to stay upright.

As he waited for the nausea to pass he grimaced and was sure to radiate the sensation of absolute annoyance to which the other merely responded with the impression of being utterly unmoved. A raised brow and nod to the door in a silent ‘well, go on then’. Exasperated, he moved toward the door and braced himself.

“Asano, you complete dumbass.”

“Hey you’re the one who shoved me Ms. Enter-the-Dragon so that makes you just as guilty.”

“One, that’s a kung fu flick which is a completely separate thing. And two, that’s not how any of that works so just be a man and own up to it when you do stupid shit.”

“So??? Do you really think I know all the specifics about that stuff?” With arm folded across his chest, the remaining hand flapped about in a vague gesture. He grumbled the last bit under his breath, “And honestly I could say the same for you, freaking martial arts nut.”

“Bullshit, I know you know the difference and what was that you little turd?” She stalked forward.

“Ack! Mizuiro help me!”

“Ah, so you were at here after all.”

The other two froze halfway through their skit with a look on their faces not unlike a child caught with their hands in the snack drawer before in unison turning to face the newcomer.

“Oh, hey. Yeah, sorry about your plant. Someone got a little overzealous with their knocking.” She jerked her head over to where the poor thing sat; delicate blue-and-white petals lay crushed under heavy shards of terracotta while decorative stones were cast indiscriminately over hallway carpet to which the teen felt a pang of sadness.

He liked that plant.

It was a lovely little hyacinth that Mrs. Yamada –one of the more tenured nurses at his father’s hospital- had gifted to him for his fourteenth birthday along with a small sealed container of mackerel miso soup and some homemade lavender cookies just because he ‘reminded her a bit of her grandfather’ or something like that. The fiery old bird could cook like a master chef, took absolutely no shit from anyone, and the very day she hit seventy she proceeded to pack her bags and headed to Spain for a well-deserved retirement. And now the only thing left he had to remember her by was broken.

Great.

“Sup dude!” Evidently oblivious to his obvious dismay the brunet gave a small wave from where he hung limply in the other’s grasp. “So, yeah, I thought maybe you couldn’t hear me so if knocked harder then you would but then she shoved me!”

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me you-”

He stared blankly as the two once more began to bicker which rapidly devolved into Tatsuki attempting to commit murder via strangulation when the other male inevitably stuck his foot into his mouth.

The whole song and dance was somewhat nostalgic to be honest.

And so was the incoming headache, unfortunately.

(Well, seeing as the running theme of things appears to be entirely made up of the universe tossing stuff at us that genuinely make me want to rethink all my life choices up to this point–) He pinched the bridge of his nose and bit back an exasperated sigh, dark eyes trailing down to the mess now scattered across his front step. (Maybe we can close the door while they’re distracted and pretend this never happened? Just…give up and go back to bed? They probably wouldn’t even notice…) At this point that didn’t even seem like a bad idea.

(C’mon man, I mean something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. Holy shit, look at them go. I haven’t seen the two of them this pissed at each other since that time the class tried to figure out who the greatest stunt actor of all time was. Remember, when Keigo tried to use his chair as a shield –dunno why he thought that do him any good. She just wound up just snapping the damn thing in half- Chad had to scruff her like one of those mother cats in order to keep her from ripping his throat.)

(No??? When was this?)

(Last January, I think? It was the first Monday after we got off break. Miss Ochi was out so we had a sub and they got ticked off at the mess and made everyone stay late to it clean up after chewing us out for letting it get that far.)

(Ah. Actually, I think was out sick that day. Inoue had stopped by the night before and dropped off one of her…more elaborate concoctions…and insisted that I tried it. And, well…)

(Food poisoning?)

(Yeah.)

As the echoes of fond halcyon days bled away to bittersweet reminisce a wash of loneliness hit him –hit them- so suddenly that he had to clutch at the door frame to keep himself steady. As quickly as it stuck, the sensation drew back and in its wake left such gaping maw that he fought for a second to just simply breathe.

(Seeing them like this, untouched by the horrors brought about from beings centuries their senior who were equipped with powers beyond mortal comprehension and still able to joke and goof around. It was sobering. Right here and now they were just kids acting their age weren’t they? They were all so young.)

(Fucking hell, were we ever like that? Just…able to just fuck around and not really have to worry about the finding out?)

(…I suppose so.)

(Yes, perhaps once upon a time, long long ago before everything that made them who they were occurred. Really, it was just another reminder of what was at stake.

And wasn’t that a heavy thought?

That if they truly succeeded in this monumental wager then perhaps the instance of their once dear compatriots that now stood before them would forever be the norm, carrying about their day to day lives undisturbed by the supernatural entities that plagued this world as a whole, forever ignorant of the travesty that befell their prior incarnations.

And if the only hope to see their family spared of such a tragic stage was at the cost of bloodstained hands forever cursed to carry the enormity of a lost world upon itself along with the direct knowledge of what could have been that had they themselves not manipulated and manhandled into unrecognizability then that was the price that they would pay a thousand times over all so the others would never be damned to suffer the ill-fated devastation that had been wrought by their own accursed hands.)

“…Ishida?” He jolted, drawing in a startled breath. Ah shit, he had completely forgotten the third member of their little troupe who was now currently standing right behind him in his flat.

(When had the other seen fit to invite himself in? Actually, no, scratch that, how had he done so without either of them noticing???)

(Whoa I think I might’ve zoned out for a bit there, did he say something just now?)

(How should I know? You think I could pay any attention while those two are going on like a bunch of wet cats caught outside during a monsoon in the background?)

(Fuck, when did he even start talking anyway? Wait, is he giving us the look? Ah man, he is. We’ve been quiet for too long I think he’s keyed into that something’s up. Say something!)

Snapping back to reality he noticed how Mizuiro had leveled him an expectant stare, presumably awaiting his response. Under such scrutiny pale cheeks dusted somewhat as the teen cast back for a response. However as he floundered about for something –anything- to say his mind simply drew a blank and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a rather dumbfounded: “How did you even know where I live?”

Judging by the way the other’s expression seemed to briefly crack before remolding itself into that plain smoothed-out placidity that the other was known the town over for that his response evidentially had been the wrong thing to say.

Shit had he already cocked everything up or perhaps had the other (hopefully) misconstrued the situation? With Kojima, it was always a guessing game of which was which as the inscrutable bastard had a nasty habit of playing things close to his chest until it could benefit him in some way. This penchant for the subtle theatrics was a talent that served him well when it came time to persuade some of the more ruthless students around campus into…keeping the peace… with their newly formed school disciplinary committee (which Ichigo himself had been guilted into becoming a member of with the stipulation of it being on a per commission basis.)

(There was a reason that he had never really put up too much of a fuss about where the other’s money came from. Not only had it been a solid source of income, but he personally didn’t want to be the one to find out whether that rumour going around that the teen had some sort of connection to the business had any merit. Not because he would view the other any differently for his relations or anything stupid like that –oh no- it was because he was more than already certain that they were entirely founded and that the less he knew about his friend’s illicit affairs the better he would able to sleep at night.)

In other words the dark haired teen had always been really fucking observant so if anyone were to notice something was up then it’d probably be him.

(‘Or maybe-’ The little conspiracy theorist in the back of his mind whispered, ‘–just maybe there had already been a shift in the timeline and all of this is just reaping the aftereffects? After all, as far as you can recall none of your extended friend circle had ever received the honour of knowing your personal address, right?’ Oh great. Now he was definitely going to be stuck in a spiral because once the thought had cropped up he couldn’t not think about it. ‘Because while I might not have done such a thing what if the instance of myself that we seem to have unfortunately superimposed over in fact had and through this gaff I have somehow already ousted us as an imposter? What other blocks in this already shaky tower would crumble next and how long before it would all come crashing down upon their collective head?’)

What indeed…

Urgh, he could already feel the headache worsening.

(Well…I mean, this sort of thing’s always kind of a last resort but…How quickly do you think you could gather up everything we need to pull a runner because I’d say we could be out that window and halfway out to Yokohama before anyone would be able to catch up with us? Just as a suggestion.)

Kojima, whether oblivious to his internal distress or just wisely choosing not to comment on it, it seemed had also came to the conclusion that egging on the spectacle upon his doorstep would be fruitless and had evidently opted to join him in ignoring their fellow classmates in favor of continuing the somewhat one-sided conversation.

“Well, you know how I’m a class officer too, right?” A short nod. “And you know just as well as I do what the Head Office is like.” Unfortunately, he did. “So it seems like somebody went and narc'd to the board –personally I think it was Yukimura from 3-B, the snitch- about all the ‘rough’ and ‘unruly’ students that have been hanging around town.” The subtle look of disapproval from the shorter teen was enough for the both of them to silently send their condolences to the sorry bastard along with anyone else in the blast radius. The morons wouldn’t even know what hit them. With a small shake of the head, Kojima continued on. “Naturally the high-strung boneheads got it into their skulls that the sure-fire course of action was to implement a new school-wide campaign focused on ‘Curbing Delinquency in Our Honoured Youth’ and first order of business was to start cracking down on truancy.”

(So in other words, the stodgy old coots got their panties in a twist and now the first people to step out of line are of course the ones to placed on the chopping block. Got it.)

“All for the sake of maintaining their ‘pristine image’ I presume.” Was his response to both.

The sheer dryness of the statement managed worm a snort out of his classmate. “Rather blunt way of putting it, but yeah. If you ask me I think the teachers were just tired of having to drag people to the nurse after they got nailed by the gate’s auto-lock when they tried slip past it to ditch class.” Mizuiro said, eyeballing the small mountain of covers that had been cast to the floor with a thinly-veiled curiosity.

(Yeah, besides everyone and their mother knows the front gate’s no good. The school’s too cheap to oil the track so not only is it a pain and a half to try and shimmy through when the damn thing randomly closes in on you but it’s loud as all hell too. Now the service door behind the gym on the other hand, a single solid kick to those rusty latches and you’ve got yourself a quick getaway…)

“Yeah, they were really sold on the whole ‘zero-tolerance’ thing. Heck, there were even some talk about making an example out of the first batch of students that they caught slacking on their attendance.”

Shit.

“…Is that so?”

The shorter teen leveled him a wry side-eye, “Although when a certain member of the student council pointed out that if the head office were to make such a hasty judgement without even taking a second to ascertain the circumstances behind such unexcused absences then by chance wouldn’t that mean our dear class president could be grouped together with other much more notorious offenders?”

“A-Ah. Well, yes I suppose that’s...”

“And that’s not good for anyone now is it? After all, there must be a perfectly rational reason for someone with previously perfect attendance to have all but disappeared off the face of the planet without so much as a warning thus leaving his classmates and fellow student council members in the lurch as to have to deal with everything in his absence now wouldn’t there be?”

He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light but for a second there Kojima’s placid smile seemed to twist into something darker –more menacing- and were it not for the incorporeal hand that came to rest upon his shoulder –a silent reminder to just stop, take a moment, and b r e a t h e- he would have succumbed to the hair-trigger urge to form his bow and level it at the other’s brow.

And really, when had he even taken the first step back? Was the mere possibility of something more lurking behind his schoolmate’s shadow enough to have him jump the gun with such a fervor that he’d end the other’s life without a second thought? What utter foolishness. He was better than that.

(But was he really though? After all, wasn’t there an old saying somewhere that ‘the worst wounds we bear are always brought about by those closest to us?’ And besides, it wouldn’t have been the first time that he had done such a thing in cold blood, nor would it be the last.)

Letting himself unspool from that overly tense spring he ruthlessly squashed the impulse for further self-recrimination. Even so, that could’ve spelt disaster. Especially considering the fact that –to his current faulty knowledge base- the other’s spiritual awareness would have been more or less dormant right now so he pretty much would’ve just looked like a dork pulling a weird pose or something and not the very real threat he actually was.

(But, like, seriously. How the fuck did Mizuiro manage to pull off such an intimidating presence like that without even batting an eyelash? Why can’t we do that? So unfair...)

Now equipped with a with a shellac-thin composure that would most likely crack like the candied coating it was the very moment that any pressure was set upon it the teen’s mouth started to move, “A-Ah well, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that. Which is-”

Mizuiro raised a brow.

(Ichigo help me out here.)

(…Yeah. I got nothing. Sorry. Good luck! You’ll need it.)

(What?! You jerk-)

…Fuck. Time to wing it.

“-that I’m not quite sure where you’re going with this?”

…Nailed it.

“…Really?”

“Yes?”

“Really.” It wasn’t a question.

Ignoring the dual-part judgemental incredulity and utter exasperation radiating from his personal tagalong was a notable effort but he valiantly kept at a straight face and doubled down on his decision.

“Yes.”

“…”

“…”

(...)

“…Alright then.”

And that was the only warning he received before Mizuiro lurched forward causing the taller boy to recoil, dark blue eyes involuntarily screwed shut as he braced for the blow…

…only to blink as he felt something soft and laminated thwap against his chest. Bewildered, he risked a glance down at the manicured hand before him and followed it down to the violet folder currently pressed against his bosom. With all the grace of a rusty robot, he mechanically took the proffered item and (in the process entirely missing the strange glint in the other’s eyes) took a peek inside.

…It was just some office forms and a couple of annotated lecture notes clipped to the corresponding worksheets. Nothing remarkable or special about them whatsoever.

Confusion apparent, Uryū’s gaze flicked up to other as he tried to gauge the teen’s intent. Finding nothing out of the ordinary he twisted his focus inward to the shadow on his soul to which the other boy merely gave a small shrug, equally as clueless.

“…It’s the coursework for the rest of the week. Miss Ochi was just gonna chuck it in the bin with the rest of the extras so she could go skive off and ogle Mr. Toudou over a cup of bad teacher’s lounge coffee; had it bagged and everything. Luckily, I managed to snag it from the clean-up crew before the whole thing got hauled out to the trash.” He gave a small nod, gaze distant. “Yeah, they were weirdly nice about the whole thing too; something about people’s notebooks disappearing just before midterms or something? I’m not entirely sure, anyways…It was no big deal, really.”

Here the other’s faint smirk faded into something a touch more sour. The faint but unmistakeable sense of irritation perking the two-in one teen’s curiosity. “At least, until Hanya decided to show his face.”

Ah, that explained it. If there was any individual who could instantly put the shorter teen in a bad mood then that person most certainly had to be their shifty Vice-Principal.

There was no shortage of strange rumours about the man and how he out of nowhere went and ditched what was supposedly a pretty cushy spot at some hoity-toity private academy in Sumaru only to do an about face the following day and transfer to their plain old public school the next town over. And it wasn’t like you could even ask the tightwad about it either because the very moment you dared to try the guy’d go off on you and start spouting something about: ‘Don’t you know how it was rude it was to gossip?!’ and ‘Teens like you shouldn’t be spreading crass rumours!’ Then, if he was in a particularly bad mood you’d land yourself in detention.

Naturally, this did not work whatsoever and only served to further alienate him from the student body where he was regarded by most as either a tedious annoyance at best or a downright pompous narcissistic creep at the very worst. But for some inexplicable reason it seemed that there was no one in the school that Hanya had it out for more than Kojima himself and from what they could see the feeling was likely mutual.

(Or, at least, that’s what his admittedly spotty memory of the whole situation told him. Were these little snippets of information their alternate self’s memories superimposed upon their own and trying to helpfully fill in the blanks? Did they have someone on staff with that name back in their old world too? He didn’t know and he honestly couldn’t remember-)

“We were already out by the incinerator and everything but when he caught the others standing around and talking to me instead of cleaning he started going off on us, tossing all sorts of wild allegations left and right. Such a distasteful show, and presented by a faculty member no less! Any sane person wouldn’t be able to let something like that slide, right? You’d have to do something-” Mizuiro fumed.

(‘So he pretty much went off on him…’)

“—because, like, aren’t class officers are supposed to advocate against such egregious displays when presented by both student and staff alike? No, I’m serious. Like, that’s literally the job description in the school’s charter, I checked. And, well, it’s not like anyone else was going to step in because you know what those office flunkies are like the second any of the higher ups get so much as mentioned.” And underneath his breath he muttered, “The cowards-”

(He absolutely went off on him.)

Like a line cast out to sea, he seemed to be caught in the waves for a moment before becoming aware of himself and reeling back a touch, “-ah, um sorry…” The teen rubbed at the back of his head, looking a little sheepish before straightening. “But yeah, one thing lead to another and I got sent to the office.”

“Wait, just to clarify, you’re the only one who got in trouble?” He asked incredulously, “That’s…”

(Dude, that’s fucked up.)

“I mean, yeah? It got the others out of the line of fire so I can’t really complain?” A shoulder briefly rose in a sort of half-shrug; a truly hapless gesture of ‘yeah, sure, it sucked but might as well make the most of it.’ “Besides, it’s not like it was all bad. Miss Amano was on admin duty today.”

(Amano? Oh that’s a relief.)

The rolling sense of relaxing shadow muddled with something positive spurred a bolt of confused-curiosity from the dark-haired teen until the dark presence ‘twisted’ to face him.

(She was a teaching assistant in charge of handling the younger years and spent a lot of time helping out Mr. Toudou. All of the grunt work the other teachers didn’t want to do was usually her problem which is probably why you didn’t run into each other all that often.)

Ah, that made sense. But even so…

(You seem rather fond of her?)

(Well yeah? Amano was actually one of the few decent people on the staff roster. She was always genuinely cheerful and never really let their stupid hazing get to her. Plus she said she actually liked my hair, apparently it reminded her of her roommate’s or something? S’probably why the old farts rigged it so she’d have to transfer out at the end of second year. And I stand by what I said the first time, everyone and their mother saw that there was no way in hell that those test scores could’ve been botched! I-)

(Ichigo.)

The shadowed mass went from a frothing mess to as still as the grave so fast that it was enough to twist his already tumultuous insides. Biting back the bile in his throat –because he was not going to throw up on his favourite hand-crocheted blanket while his troublesome classmate looked on, he refused- the teen’s slender fingers eased out of their death grip on the manila folder. The heavy wriggling of other’s not-form slowly returned, albeit at a more sedate pace.

(…Sorry.)

“So,” He began a little roughly, “she let you off the hook?”

“…Mhm.” A nod, “Once I told her about what happened outside she was all too happy to let us off the hook just so long as we went and did a little errand for her for her first. Yeah, something about ‘doing time through a bit of community service’ and ‘to be sure to put the fear of god into them’ or something like that just so long as we kept it on the down-low of just who authorized the whole thing.” A mischievous light shone in the shorter boy’s eyes. “Playing a bit of messenger bird in exchange or being able to fly the coop? An easy deal if you ask me.”

The gears were turning, “Wait…so that whole bit earlier?”

“…I might’ve taken some creative liberties.” He smirked, “But what can I say? I’m nothing if not thorough with my work.”

…So the entire time he felt as though his heart was about to burst out of his chest and that he were wobbling on the edge, a hair’s length from his (third? Fourth?? First??? Final) death and the other was simply fucking with him? He let that thought sit for a moment. Let it percolate. Let it ruminate. Contemplated his place in the universe and the vague constellation of stars that somehow aligned to bring him to this very place, this very moment.

And then proceeded to nope out.

(Distantly he felt that gentle tenebrous warmth slide into place as his body took in a rather deep breath and released. His Their hands, still clutching that accursed folder, came together as if to pray for strength before slowly lowering themselves and twisting ninety-degrees to face the accused. Their expression only could be described as something belonging to the family of ‘are you fucking kidding me right now?’)

“…Mizuiro.”

And proceeded to whack him on the head with the folder.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You know I am.” Mizuiro admitted with a shrug and an honest-to-god laugh. Preempting another strike, he hurriedly took a step back out of the folder’s range. The other teen seemed to grouse a bit before letting out a reluctant sigh and permitting the thing come to rest at his side, having conceded defeat. For now, anyway. Somewhat thrown by the seemingly easy victory, the shorter boy raised a brow.

“You act like you’re surprised but who else would go along with my improv so spectacularly and match it with a one-to-one bit their own?” He shook his head with a scoff, “The idiot duo back there? Please.”

“Mhm. But I can still call you out on it though, can’t I?”

It was a fair point but…

(‘I honestly thought that was Keigo’s job though?’)

He felt a wash of confusion at what was presumably yet another difference. Those hastily preconstructed towers were being pulled down faster either of them could cope and if was to be some stupid missed in-joke that would finally do them in then he was going to scream.

However, instead of giving note to the thought, the one in control of the body turned his their face to the side with a faint scowl. Looking for all the world as though he had seemingly dismissed the other in favour of more important things.

(When the truth of the matter was that he much preferred to let their gaze travel around the rather sparse apartment in contrast to the facing the awkwardness of prolonged eye-contact and the other teen’s way too keen expression. Uryū’s dissociation was already putting him on edge enough as it was and he didn’t need to accidentally check out in front of these guys as well.)

Glossing over the small touches of personality –(a little janky plush thing wedged into the cranny of an otherwise neat bookshelf over here, some hastily stashed books with geometric stitching patterns on the cover there, and all the other various knickknacks scattered about that signified that someone did in fact live there)— their attention shifted to land on the covers scattered about the floor.

Sock-clad feet shuffled over to the pile as blue eyes briefly studied the comfortable mix-match of fabrics. Slowly, the body knelt down, Ichigo fighting back a strained grimace as he went and gathered the sizable mass into his their arms. Hands paused ever so slightly on the knitted afghan as a look of contemplation crossed his their face.

“Then what about the other two?”

Ichigo shifted the worn knit to wrap around their shoulders, bearing it not unlike one of the many mantles that Uryū had been so fond of wearing when they were younger. The warm fabric acting as though it were a shield between them and this twisted mirror-like version of their friend. The rest of the bedding was summarily balled up and tossed onto the couch with a huff.

(Neither of them noticed the flicker of concern on Mizuiro’s face as they seemed to sway on their feet for a second but successfully managed to catch themselves on the edge of coffee table. Nor did they notice, so caught up in the internal dialogue were they, that as they righted themselves and the tension bled out of their form it seemed to remain etched in his.)

‘Yeah, so I guess that’s how we came to came to find you on my doorstep. But that doesn’t really explain what they were doing here as well.’ The feeling of crossness drew him back to the surface, ‘Or why they felt the need to break my stuff.’ He thought with a mild huff as he took back control.

As if summoned by the thought (or perhaps finally distracted from the epic battle of dumbassery at the door) it seemed that Keigo finally managed to escape his dueling partner’s grasp. Quickly dancing away from her reaching hands, he finally stepped into the apartment proper.

Conceding defeat (for now) Tatsuki followed suit. “What about us?”

(Oh so they’re all just gonna come in now? Okay. Sure. At least have the decency to shut the damn door while you’re at it…)

Taking it upon himself to do just that, he turned back to face them. A hand tightened around the makeshift shawl, securing it in his tight grasp.

“What I mean is, Mizuiro-” He tipped his head toward said boy, resolutely ignoring how his head seemed to throb at the action. “-I can understand, but why are you here?” The teen groused.

Keigo just stared at him as if he had suddenly burst out in full traditional Quincy garb and then proceeded to give them an all expense included monologue about the whole truth of their fucked up situation and spared none of the nitty-gritty god-murdering world-ending details.

“Ishida. Dude.” He spoke slowly, as if they were the dumb ones here and he had to spell it out for them. “You’ve been gone for like ages and no one’s heard a single word about it. There’s already, like, five different rumours about your death going around. I even heard the handicraft’s club was planning on holding a séance.”

He very deliberately did not react. “I-It hasn’t even been a week.”

“Well yeah, but when someone like ‘Mr. Perfect Attendance Class President Ishida’ decides to dip for that long? People tend to take notice and start theorizing.” He put one hand under his chin and did a little theatrical wave with the other, “They say stuff like: ‘Oh gee it must be something big that nailed him like...a huge mystery illness that would drop even the most stalwart of men’ or ‘Maybe he was indoctrinated into this demonic alien cult and just been taken aboard their secret mothership parked just outside the atmosphere as they planned their next move.’” There was a gleam to his eye as he began to get more into it and his gestures got more energetic.

“O-Or maybe he was kidnapped by a mysterious gang of strange ladies that would only state their demands if in the presence of a strapping young lad under the age of twenty but in the process of negotiations the daughter of a big business conglomerate somehow managed to fall for him at first sight and as a result wanted to take him as consort but on their way to elope somehow they managed become the center of a political murder mystery thus necessitating the help of local amateur gumshoe detective Asano Keigo and his assistants to crack the case!” Already lost in the fantasy he let out a semi-maniacal cackle.

“...Right.”

(He’s completely lost the plot.)

(Oh totally.)

(...Should we, y’know?)

(Nah, Tatsuki’s got this. Watch.)

The aforementioned girl rolled her eyes, stalking over to the still cackling teen and unceremoniously bonked Keigo on the head. A whine escaped his lips and he stopped instantly. With a betrayed look he rubbed at the spot, grumbling all the while.

“Ignore him. He’s being a moron again.” She went on, folding an arm across her chest as she shot Uryū a mildly exasperated yet commiserating smile. “What he meant to say was that we were worried about your dumbass. Or well, at least he was-” Tatsuki jerked a thumb over to Mizuiro, “-but me? Truth is I felt kind of bad just leaving Kojima to the wolves like that.” She gave a small shrug. “So I tracked him down just before he left and made him spill the beans about this whole home delivery deal. Figured why not tag along since I’m kind of familiar with the area.”

The smile dimmed somewhat, “But when he mentioned you lived sorta out of the way, I didn’t think he meant this far out. I mean, this place is so far out in the middle of nowhere that I’m surprised you’re still even in our school district. Not only that but it’s kind of a pain to even get up to the front door! Anyone ever tell you that?”

Yes. And it was that way for a reason. A less populated area meant less prying eyes to his comings and goings at all hours of the night. Less prying eyes meant fewer people trying to dig into your personal business. And of course fewer people meant less collateral damage if an errant hollow was ever suicidal enough to follow him home. Not that these guys knew any of that so all he said was, “Once or twice, yes.”

His gaze traveled to Keigo, who was now prodding at the small plush on his bookshelf curiously. “And him?”

“Huh? Oh right, him.” Her friendly look flattened into one of annoyance. “Yeah, dumbass over there on the other hand just really wanted to ditch cleaning duty early.” And as if sensing the other was about to do something stupid again she whirled around to level a pointed look at the brown-haired teen “Isn’t that right, Keigo.”

“As if. Also, rude.” Said teen muttered. But thankfully he took the hint and put the fragile plush back on the shelf, seeming somewhat put out as he did so.

(Impressive.)

(Yeah, back when we were little whenever me and the other kids from the dojo were gonna do something stupid she’d somehow just know. Trying to deny it wouldn’t work either because she’d just call us out on it and then go tattle to one of the instructors. She liked to call it her ‘Big Sister ESP’ which didn’t make a damn bit of sense because not only is she an only child but she was the youngest kid in our group by, like, two days.)

(Sounds like you were on the receiving end of it loads of times.)

(Oi.)

“And that’s pretty much the whole story.” Exasperated, she rolled her eyes and turned to face him fully but as she finally seemed to take in his haggard appearance the look of irritation made way for a concerned scowl. “But, dude, for real are you okay? You don’t look too hot.”

Keigo rubbed his hands together as he cast a final quick glance about the room before turning to face Uryū as well. The brunet seemed, for lack of a better word, uncomfortable. “Yeah, she’s right. You look like shit.” And suddenly, as if something just occurred to him, a look of worry-tinged suspicion crossed his face. He backed up slightly, brown eyes squinting at the other teen. “Wait you aren’t contagious are you? Because, like...whatever you got looks nasty. I don’t want to be no patient zero’s plus one if you catch my drift.”

“Keigo!”

“What? Come on, we were both thinking it!”

“So? You don’t just-” An arm pulled away from her chest to grasp the air fruitlessly as she let out a noise of frustration. “Have some tact man!”

Jolting slightly at the other’s careful touch, it took him a second longer than it probably should have to process Kojima’s presence beside of him. Blue eyes flickered between the two teens yowling at each other like a bunch of wet strays then over to the calmer boy watching the action play out not unlike a spectator at a tennis match. Urgh, just the mere thought of yet another argument had his head hurt preemptively from the noise. Yeah, better to cut them off before it even started.

“Guys, I’m fine. Really.” Because while he admittedly did felt like shit, surely he didn’t look as bad as they were making it out to be, right?

(...)

(...Right?)

“Y-Yeah.” He turned back to the other two as neither of them seemed to pay them any mind whatsoever. “Just fine...”

And was it just him or was this all getting to be a bit too much? Even the presence of Mizuiro’s chilled hand on his shoulder was starting to prick at something deep and indescribable within his patchwork soul. Quietly the folder still clutched within his grasp began to crinkle.

(Uryū! Mind the papers!)

‘What? Oh!’ Realizing what he had been about to do he went to quickly dispose of the item before the other teen’s thoughtful gift got ruined any further.

But it was then, as he went to bend over the coffee table to set the folder down that the sudden shift in position sent a sharp spire of pain coursing throughout their very being. A feeling not that different from someone having up and went to town with an ice pick on his skull had him seeing stars and with a quickly darkening sky to match.

A quiet intake of breath. That’s pretty much all the warning they got before the floor steadily drew itself up to meet them (or perhaps he was going down to meet it?)

And he was down.

A pause.

Then–

“What the fu-“

“Oh shit-!”

“Uryū!”

–three teens scrambled reach his side. All talking over each other in a rush of chaos and panicked noise.

“Oh my god is he dead?!”

“Holy shit-“

“I knew something was up! Like I didn’t want to be the one who said it first and I’m sure Kojima’ll agree with me here but, he looked sick. Like sick sick. One foot in the grave sick. And oh my god are we watching a dude die right now oh my god-”

“Clear some room! You two help me get him onto the couch-“

His consciousness was already starting to fade in and out as they struggled to get him to the couch but even as he sunk further into the deep night he could still hear snippets of their terrified fervor.

“Ow!”

Keigo let out a small yelp and jerked back from the fallen teen only to be directly on the receiving end of a daggered stare courtesy of the lone girl of their troupe. “Stop screwing around Asano!”

“He shocked me!” The brunet cried, pointed an incredulous finger at the downed boy.

Dark brows furrowed and lips parted slightly as the girl leveled him an absolutely dumbfounded expression before she got pissed, “Are you fucking serious right now?! Ignore the damn static cling and help us get him up here!”

“R-Right.”

As they got him into a suitable position Keigo pulled back once again and watched the two fuss about their fallen friend. His mouth continued to move in a stream of nervous word vomit, “Oh man, what do we do?! Television makes this stuff seem so much less complicated. I mean, like, the dude just...dropped out of nowhere! One second he’s fine and then...blam! He’s down on the ground and out for the count. Does he really have some secret terminal medical thingy going on? Is that why?? Do we, y’know, take him to the hospital??? Argh dang it, I knew I shouldn’t’ve skipped health class...” He grasped at his hair, staring off into the middle distance.

(And it was that last little bit of noise that sent an instinctual spike of blind panic through them. If it were to come to light that the Director’s son had just been admitted to A&E with some form of unexplainable illness the news would most certainly reach his father’s desk within the hour. And Ryūken, for all that he spurned the supernatural world and those who participated within its boundaries in favour of the more mundane, the man was neither blind nor stupid. He was, by the very blood flowing through his veins, still a Quincy. Their razor-thin plausible deniability would be pierced through in a heartbeat by the man’s prodding and soon to follow their skull; courtesy of a charged Heilig Pfeil. And the second that happened the lives and afterlives of everyone around them would instantly be forfeit. Come be what may they could not let themselves be taken to the hospital.)

It was this desperate thought that allowed him to use that as a ballast to rise through the muddled dark just enough to poke out through the murky surface. His jerking gasp caused all three teens to startle.

They were at his side in an instant, “Easy there Uryū.” Mizuiro gently tilted his head to right and tried not wince at the sheer heat radiating off of the other boy. “Don’t push yourself.” And to the others in a low voice he muttered, “He’s burning up.”

“How bad?”

“Bad.” As in: he legitimately did not know how the other had even been standing, let alone able to hold a semi-coherent conversation with them.

It was Keigo who noticed that he was trying to make his opinion known on the matter, “Guys, shush!” And to Uryū: “Hey there bud, didn’t quite catch that. Mind repeating it?”

“No...”

“...No?”

“N-No...No hos…pitals.” Why was it so hard to get the words out? He reached out blindly for the nearest thing that could sense on his peripherals and was met with a balm of cool lakewater stopped just shy of freezing against the raging surge of an ocean black as pitch; Mizuiro’s hand. Already he could feel the stormy dark dragging him back under but just as he slipped back beneath its grasp a single desperate plea escaped his lips.

“Please.”

And then he was gone, lost once more to the waves.

There was a moment of silence before the trio once more burst out into panic.

“Wah he passed out again?!”

“What do you mean ‘no hospitals’? In the state you’re in?! Don’t be a dumbass!”

“W-What do we do-”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you want a doctor when you’re this sick?!?”

“D-Do we just...go ahead and call someone or...?”

They were shocked into silence as the third member of their party suddenly rose from his place at Uryū’s side and made his way over to the kitchenette where he proceeded to rummage through the cabinets. The two of them shared a baffled look as this seemingly nonsensical course of action had them scratching their heads for all of two seconds until he reemerged from behind the partition with his newfound prize; a medium sized bowl now filled with a decent amount of semi-chilled water from the tap and a novelty kitchen towel, having once been lost to the depths of a junk drawer, now stood a notable presence draped across his shoulder. He lugged his precious cargo back over to their little cluster, taking care not to spill a drop of it as he sat the bowl down, and reclaimed his spot at the edge coffee table.

“Kojima?”

In lieu of a response, he opted to position the other’s limbs into a more comfortable arrangement. Once satisfied with that Mizuiro’s focus then shifted to the glasses perched his friend’s face. With deft hands, he slid his fingers underneath the thin wire-frames and carefully tugged them off, taking care as to not smudge the lenses when he folded the earpieces up and set them to the side. Finished with that, he went to work dousing the fabric in the cool liquid. As he shuffled about the space, it was hard not to notice how the shorter teen carried himself with this sort of inscrutable countenance; the face a careful blank all save for a subtle furrowing of his brow.

It was Keigo who broke the silence next, “You know what’s going on, don’t you.”

The boy paused in his ministrations and there was a long silence before he finally spoke.

“...Uryū’s father is currently employed at Karakura General.”

“...So, he’s a doctor?”

“Yes. Or, well, not exactly...” The teen took another moment to parse his words, hands absently reaching back into the bowl to wring out the soaked cloth between them as did. He carefully laid the damp towel across the other’s forehead, “He’s actually the Director there.”

“...Wow, that’s certainly something.” And then a thought occurred to her, “Hold on a sec. If that’s the case then it makes even less sense for him to be like this.” She gestured pointedly at the boy lying prone before them. “You think a doctor wouldn’t notice their own kid getting sick like this?”

“Well, maybe he just too busy at the moment to really do anything about it?” Keigo offered haltingly, however when faced with the twin stares he hastened to explain himself, “W-Well, I mean, he just said he was a hospital director or something which means the guy’s pretty important right? And, hey, important people do important stuff all the time! Like...go on super long trips for business.” He made a vigorous series of hand motion, as if to illustrate his point. “And when they’re on these long trips don’t they cut off all contact so they can go ahead focus only on the big business stuff, yeah? So, maybe that’s what happened. His dad had to go out of town for this huge important medical conference or whatever and everything was going all good until then out of the blue Ishida was struck by this sudden mystery illness. And our man Ishida, being the good guy that he is, didn’t want to bother his old man when he was doing something so important so he thought he’d try toughing it out while waiting for to get back? Or something along the lines of that maybe?”

“Asano. While that’s a nice thought, I sincerely doubt that is the case here. After all,” While he seemed was patient on the surface one couldn’t help but note the faintest hint of something else lurking in his tone as he stared down at the body before him. “Uryū doesn’t live with his father.”

“H-Huh?”

Dark brown eyes narrowed, “What are you trying to get at Kojima?”

“I mean,” He started slowly, a rare look of consternation flashed across his face as he met the girl’s energy with a soft-yet-acerbic tone of his own. “Look around you; at the single set of shoes at the door, or the lone bedroom down the hall. He doesn’t even have enough food in the fridge for one person, let alone two.” He leveled a pointed gesture back at the object in question, his other hand coming to make a tight fist against his pantleg. “No, there hasn’t been anyone else here but him for a long time.”

“B-But that’s...” But before he had a chance to speak Mizuiro cut him off, signalling the other to give him a second. At his side, he clenched and unclenched his fist, repeating the gesture until the circulation flowed back into the digits. Once the feeling had returned to them, he then smoothed out the creases in his uniform pants with a silent note to further iron them out when he got back home later.

“Sorry, I got a little heated there.” He shook his head as he twisted to face him. While he did appear to be a bit calmer for the action there was still the faintest lines of a scowl that tugged at the corners of his mouth. As a whole, he seemed troubled. “But still, my point stands. While it could be whatever’s making him sick right now egging it on, I genuinely don’t think it would be in his good interest for us to just dump him at a hospital right now, at least not one run by his father at any rate.”

“...S-So what do we do?” Mizuiro did have a point after all, they couldn’t just leave him there to suffer like that. (Well, actually, they could but that would be kind of a shitty thing to do, wouldn’t it? What if he died or something because they left him alone? He definitely did not sign up to become a murderer of all things, no siree. Because when the cops eventually came around to investigate things then them just being there right now would lead to some uncomfortable questions which it would then go straight to them getting implicated for something or another because that’s just how authority figures were. He was too young to go to prison! Hell, he still cried at the end of Phoenix Ranger Featherman Classic when everyone finally put aside their differences to bring about world peace through the power of friendship! And that wasn’t even getting into whatever weird beef Kojima had with Ishida’s Old Man. Argh, he just wanted to get out of doing cleaning duty for the day, not be faced with drama and life or death decisions!) The usually bouncy teen’s eyes flitted between his friends with a ever-growing desperation, having felt as though he was completely out of his depth here. “We have to do something, guys.”

Tatsuki, as per usual, ignored the fretting teen in favour of leveling her attention on the last conscious resident of the room. She seemed stare at him for a long moment, long enough to make any weaker willed person squirm. However, Mizuiro Kojima was no such individual. He met her gaze, dark eyes clear yet unyielding. It was Arisawa who broke first, her brown eyes glancing away and then over to the fallen teen. Dark brows furrowed until she finally turned away from this as well, her lips pulled back into a heavy grimace. “...Alright. Fine.”

“‘Fine’?” Mizuiro raised a brow.

“You win. We won’t take him to a fucking hospital.” She spat as she raked a hand through her short spikes. Hard set to her jaw, a rush of air escaped her as she shoved herself up to her feet. “But Asano also has point. I’m not leaving him like this.”

“She’s actually agreeing with me?” He muttered under his breath somewhat disbelievingly before being startled by the sudden movement. “Huh? Wait, where are you going?” Keigo called as she moved towards the kitchen partition, personal cell phone already out of pocket and in hand.

“I’m gonna go make a call. So pipe down so I can hear the dang thing–”

“Okay, no need to shout–”

“Don’t worry, Uryū. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“Hello? Yes, we’re kind of in a bit of a situation...”

“So you just try to get some rest now, okay?”

“No, please, listen Mr. K-”

“We’ll take care of it, I promise–”

<{-----+}

(And then it was dark. The twinned consciousness finally faded from the forefront; soul fragments curled tightly into one another as they drifted along the stormy ocean of liquid pitch. Their entirety ebbed and flowed with the steady rhythm of make-unmake-remake as their patchworked being slowly remolded itself into something that truly should not have been yet somehow inexplicably was and a delicate equilibrium was met. Upon finally having spent those additional energy reserves they sank deeper into the realm of dreamless sleep; yet even so this unique rest was not a wholly peaceful one. There were brief moments where awareness bubbled up, reaching out but not quite touching the surface, allowing for snippets of lucidity as their body slept on.)

{+-----}>

(“I’m so sorry for calling you out of the blue like this and at such a late hour too but we couldn’t think of who else to turn to.”

A presence slowly drifted through the endless mire.

“Well, it’s a good thing you kids called me when you did–”

Twisting and turning.

Rising and falling.

Life and Death .

Over and over and over again the display repeated so on and so forth until eventually with nowhere else to go it turned in on itself in an endless array of spiritual fractals. Awareness came and went with the tide, the stolen snippets nothing more than static nonsense.

“█████!”

“█████?”

“█████...?!”

A messy tangle of fizzy yellow passed it to a worried forest gale and then to an absolutely frigid lakewater then back to the first one and so on the pattern repeated itself, occasionally tossing another burst of noise into the mix until the soothing aura of a smouldering flame— not quite the raging bonfire it could be if properly given time — cut through.

“Yes, you ███ can run along now. I’ve got your friend ██████ all settled. He’s in ████ █████. So let me ███ ██ ████, okay?”

So f a m i l i a r. . .

“You’ve got good ███████, you know that? Didn’t ████ want to leave ███ for a ██████.” A self-depreciating chuckle, one that felt like the crackle of embers cloaked in cigarette smoke “They’re good kids. But...” A smile dropped.

He knew this person.

“I’m ██████ this is a ███ out of their ██████████.” The rare seriousness was a jarring contrast to his usual behaviour. It was easy to forget how good of an actor he was. It ran in the family.

...Who?

“What a mess. It’s a ████ ████ thing that I ███ ██ home visits, ███ know that? I’m █████████ that ███ even managed to ████ ██ this long in the state ██████ in. I guess that █████████ stubbornness must be ████ ███ something, huh? You ██████ ██████ are something else.” A hand that should’ve been warmer ran through disheveled locks, its owner letting out quiet hiss before the limb retracted. “████ weren’t ███████, ██████ burning ██. Damn, ████████ gonna have ██ ███ ███ ████ if you don’t—”

—And then everything was cast drift once again.)

“What am I gonna do with you kid?”

It was time once more for the void’s shadowy hold to lighten and almost immediately he cast out his nebulous senses in search of that familiar rain-soaked maelstrom that both was and was not part of him. He relaxed somewhat, able to tell that the other was still caught Hypnos’s grasp. To continue on with that comparison did that mean that he, on the other hand, was more suited for the position of Thanatos in this situation? He allowed the vague amusement to flow through him as he curled around the other in a lazy embrace.

A shaky awareness slowly trickled outward, allowing for him to distinguish that curious warm presence hovering somewhere off to the side of the body. However, with that gesture a sliver of reality bled in and he could feel an involuntary shiver as the prickle of cold air hit bare skin. The sound of someone clucking their tongue and that warm flame drew closer, and he could feel the chill fade away. Replaced with the soft comfort of what could only be a blanket.

“████ ██ ████ ███.” The outside presence said something else but seeing as reality was currently as flaky as a distant oasis mirage it was practically gibberish to his ears. That –along with the garishly vibrant yet hazy body that periodically swam into view every time the world seemed to blink— it was hard to say if what he was experiencing now was nothing more than the continued offshoot of a particularly vivid fever dream or not. This assumption was not helped when the other being, who turned to face him for some reason or another, had spotted a single bleary eye squinting from across the distance and had taken that as a license to explode into a whirlwind of chattering noise and activity.

Well, dream or not, it sure as hell was annoying enough to made him want to bury his head under a pile of pillows and snap for the moron to just stay still and shut up, damn it.

“...?”

...And he must’ve said something to that effect out loud if the way the other had paused, having been caught off guard by the garbled outburst, was any indication.

Oops.

Another blink and their mouth was moving again but still not quite reaching through to him. Huh, maybe if he had a bit more of a presence of mind this fact would bother him but as it stood, he couldn’t help but instead wonder. ‘Who the fuck is this anyway?’

His spinning mind wracked itself trying to place where he knew that presence from despite the thoughts slipping through his fingers as if they were leftover grains of sand from their last trip to the Land of Endless Night. Why was it so familiar?

(Of course it was familiar. That was his–)

“Dad?”

(Did he accidentally get a concussion and stumble into the clinic hospital again? His Dad Grandfather would chide him for getting into a fight again even though it usually wasn’t his fault people were assholes and tried to pick fights liked to steal his stuff.

Wait. That didn’t seem...right? What, no, yes it did?

He’d only ever gotten into a street fight once back when he was a little kid when this group of utter twats stole the Little Huntress knit plush that his Grandfather had spent months making for him. He had been so mad that he had subconsciously used a reinforcement technique and, in the process, completely shattered the other kid’s jaw.

Sure, he had gotten the knit plush back but the damage had already been done. It was no time at all before word had gotten around to all of the other kids and their parents about how the ‘weird boy’ who ‘saw things others could not’ had gotten ‘violent’ and sent an ‘innocent’ kid to the hospital. It had taken no small amount of hush money and eventually changing schools entirely before the whole incident eventually was swept under the rug.

But truly, it was the event that directly succeeded it which still bore a stark testament to his memory even after all this time.

It had been the dead of the night and he truly had never been meant to hear any of the hissed words behind that set of closed doors; but because he had thought he’d heard a strange noise earlier, and with the childish worldview that had yet to be tainted with the existence of their cannibalistic counterparts wondered if it had just been one of the friendly local ghosts that had somehow managed to sneak onto their property in search of him and as such went down to see if the wayward spirit needed help.

He hadn’t expected to see the sliver of light filtering out into the hall from his father’s usually locked study. So, filled with all the curiosity of a child his age who couldn’t sleep he had crept up to the crack to check it out.

He had never seen both his Grandfather and Father so upset.

The way the two went at each other backlit by the light of the Hunter’s Moon was a sight to behold. Their weapons for this duel: thunderous expressions and acid laced words undercut by a form of panicked desperation and righteous anger.

He might’ve just been six at the time and not really understood what they were so furious about but judging by the fact that he could catch his name interspersed between that special brand of German that Grandfather spoke he knew enough that whatever it was they were talking about had something to do with him.

And it was terrifying.

Original purpose forgotten, he crept back upstairs and hid himself deep underneath the covers. Little arms wrapped tightly around the plush that started it all, he buried his face into the soft yarn as he tried to forget what he had just saw. Eventually, tiredness won out and he fell asleep to the thought that he never wanted to see another’s person make that sort of face because of him ever again.

Yet he did, only a few years later and continued to do so, with the devastation brought about by his own hand.

Wait. Something about that didn’t feel quite right either, but whatever it was just wasn’t clicking and he couldn’t pin his finger on just why...)

The blurry figure almost seemed disconcerted, “███ █████.”

It feels like he’s forgetting something, perhaps it was related to rising the impression of befuddlement emanating from the living personification of cigarette ash over there and the fuzzy looking frown on his Old Man’s face. He didn’t know why but he didn’t like that look. It just didn’t suit Ol’ Goat-Chin and he as so much said so.

“███ ████! ████ █████ ████, █ █████. ████ █████ ██ ██████ ███ █ ████████ ████████ ██████ ████ ██████ ██ ██ █████████ █████ █ ████ ███████?”

...Well, if there was anything that he could say transcended both space and time it was that the other could certainly be enthusiastic about his reactions. It sure as hell would have been nice if those few snippets of vigorously animated noise made some sort of sense, though. Eh, time to extrapolate and figure out the rest from there!

“I...am not sick. Don't need a doct’r Old Man, I'll be fine." He slurred, thankfully having enough clarity to form most of the words.

This eloquent and well put together response did not inspire the confidence he hoped it would if the loud disbelieving snort were indication. "██ ████? ███ ████ ██ ████ █████ ████?” The other seemed to retort but already he could feel himself slipping again. His eyes slid shut. He...felt like something big was going to happen and...he needed to warn him? But why and what about? Was it about the girls? Oh, wasn’t it around this time there had been a hollow...and something else? But it would be a big risk if they didn’t let him face the others and get strong enough to...do what?

(Who was he fighting back then? Was it a–)

“H’ll’w?”

(No, it was Ywh—)

Wait, who was in control?

Their consciousness was fading and fast but they were still aware enough to see the other man stiffen and that was...very bad. Why, he didn’t know, but he at least knew that the other definitely shouldn’t have been like that so with their last bits of cohesiveness they fought to reassure him. “D’n’t w'rry he’s dead.” Their hand went up grip at their chest, just why was it so hard to breathe? It hurt. But still they forced the words out, “P'rm'se.”

(And then they proceeded to pass out.)

Contrary to the consolatory result he had been aiming for, it seemed as though the display had provided the direct opposite effect for the other man, only giving rise to a number of questions that urgently needed answering and an ever-darkening stain of concern.

He slowly made his way over to the teen and ever so gently pried his fingers away from where they clutched at his chest. He tried not to grimace at the sight even if he did allow himself a low oath uttered under his breath. It wasn’t like the kid could hear it anyway, having once again fallen unconscious, a likely result from how his body was trying to cope with the nightmare that was happening to it.

“...Poor kid.”

The whole thing was starting to look a bit too much like that horrible mess with Masaki and that Hell-Forsaken Hollow all over again. It made his fingers itch for the package of menthols he kept tucked away in a spare pocket, if only to distract himself from the cold knot that made its home in his stomach. For all his vibrancy and self-admitted eccentric worldview, he wasn’t blind, nor had he ever been stupid.

He knew the kid had made it a habit to go out at night to try his hand at hollow hunting, perhaps using the activity as a coping mechanism so that he could come to terms with Sōken’s death, and while truthfully, he could only guess as to what had been going through Ryūken head at the time; whether it be dealing with his own feelings on the matter, or maybe some misbegotten cultural aspect of having to deal with ‘The Pride of a Quincy’ that the other would steadfastly refuse to elaborate on ‘because he was no longer involved with that state of affairs’, or even some other bullshit entirely. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn what the reasoning was. The fact of the matter was that eldest Ishida had let him go about doing all of it alone.

Damn it, back when he still was a part of the active service there was a popular saying among the members of the 10th Division. If memory served him well, it was:

‘A lone wolf is nothing more a dead dog.’

It meant that there was a reason why you didn’t let a fresh from the academy recruit runaround on their own without some form of supervision (usually in the form of a higher ranked squad member that could serve as back up should the need arise) for their first few missions. Not everyone was able to handle the stress of a battlefield where emotions regularly ran high and sorry bastards would pounce on any weakness that you so much as dared to show, after all. And he had seen more than his fair share of good men lose their lives because of things like this.

Hell, even with years of the patented ‘Shiba Subtle Situational Awareness & Athletics Training’ under his belt he wouldn’t have let his own son go galivanting after the damned things if it hadn’t been for Kisuke’s silver tongue and the Kuchiki girl’s presence acting as a sort of makeshift mentorship born out of sheer necessity.

(Feelings on the matter be damned, he knew –even if he didn’t necessarily agree— that it was the only way that his boy could even have a chance at standing against the things that were to come. The only way for him to live up to the name he had been blessed with and be able to shatter the plans of those who would wish to inflict a fate worse than death upon him for the simple crime of existing as something beyond their understanding as he and his sisters did.

But he still couldn’t help but wonder sometimes; that if things had been different would none of them have needed to have faced such things to start with? That he and the girls would have, if not a normal life, then at least one that still would have had their mother in it?

But there was no use dwelling on a world that never was and never could be when one had to keep their sight on the present, anyhow.)

He knew he was a hypocrite, but damn it if he couldn’t still get pissed off when he saw a child basically throwing himself to the wolves.

‘And look where this mess has gotten us Ryūken. Where it’s gotten our boys.’

With his power drained down to the barest dregs as it was, he still would’ve had to have been utterly blind to miss the strong haze of hollow-tainted reiatsu on the child. A grimace deepened as he busied himself with refilling the water basin and then moved on to examining the makeshift cooling towel set across the teen’s brown. He had to commend the dark-haired lad’s (Kojima, he believed, was what the brunet had called him) insistence on fussing about with the thing before he shooed them off, a thoughtful stopgap measure set about in the slim hope that it might make things a bit easier for his friend, even if it was purely palliative at this point.

Taking note of the way sweat gathered at his brow and the tachypneic breaths, followed by a quick check of the pulse that revealed an equally racing heart –likely straining to filter the toxins out of his body and soul— this accompanied with what he’d witnessed during the young man’s brief periods of rousing it was right of them to be concerned.

His own professional (and totally not biased at all) verdict on the matter was—

Well...

Let’s just say it really was a good thing that the boy was out of it as to be spared the worst of things.

Up close like this, it was easy to see Ryūken’s features in the boy even without the mop of white hair on his head (that Ryūken insisted was his natural colour and most certainly not bleached, but Isshin had seen all the hair care products the man had in his bathroom, there was no way) but with this proximity it was also not that hard for him to imagine by some unlucky roll of the dice Ichigo in this position and with the uncertainty of the future such a thing wasn’t entirely out of the cards.

That the thought of something like the bastard from that time or possibly (nay, likely) worse going after these literal children (his own flesh and blood turned conscripted soldiers forced to play to the tune of people centuries older than them) made that familiar churn in his gut and once more his fingers itched desperately for a cigarette to take the edge off.

He instead toyed with the frayed lining of his coat sleeve, the patch of cloth already long since rubbed thin.

‘Even in his hour of need the kid still had his dad on his mind.’ He mused, absently brushing back a sweat-drenched lock of hair from the boy’s brow. Like this, you wouldn’t even be able guess the boy had been deliriously seeking out the comfort of a parental figure not moments before. ‘He still thought of you, Ryūken.’ Then his thoughts took a darker tint, ‘But would you have even cared?’

At least Ichigo had some others to stand with him if things went south, those who had at least some idea of the rather unique problems he had to deal with. But what this child have? An emotionally constipated father and a smaller, yet no less significant, spiritually charged target painted on his back? ‘Pride of the Quincy’ indeed.

And then he winced, immediately chastising himself for the line of thought. That was being a bit unfair, wasn’t it? He wondered what his dear Masaki would have to say if she heard any of this. A wry smirk, ‘It’d probably end up with a well-deserved smack to the head for the both of us for being morons; followed by an hour long chewing out session that would cow even the most stalwart of men.’

He shook his head to dismiss the thought, his gaze traveling up and out to the decently-sized balcony just beyond his reach. The trails of light streaming through sliding glass painted the small room in the colours of the setting sun. ‘Geez,’ He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. ‘I’m not usually this gloomy. Must be because it’s almost that time of year again.’ And with that what little bit of levity he had managed to scrounge up had faded, allowing his thoughts to spiral back to the same bleak spot that was now their home.

That spot also known as his current patient: Uryū Ishida.

Right, what to do...

...Fuck he missed his wife; she’d know how to deal with this better than he ever could. If this was just some sort of normal illness or a trauma case then he would have been able to handle it no problem. Hell, even if the worst came to pass and he somehow managed to make the transition to soul form then at least he’d have some idea of what to do. But this? He wasn’t equipped for any of this mess right now.

...But maybe there was someone who was?

“Kisuke would have some idea of what to do about this.”

(That...and well, he couldn’t leave his ‘new son’ to suffer now, could he? Heh, he could just see Ryūken’s face when he told him. If anything, it would make a great memory to look back on while he was running for his life from the other’s arrows.) He glanced back at the other’s prone form and while he knew full well that the other didn’t seem to be processing things by anything other than a base level at the moment he felt the need to reassure him for his own peace of mind at the very least.

“I’m just going to step out for a second, there’s someone who might be better equipped to handle your condition. Just hunker down and hold tight okay kid?” He gave Uryū a brief pat on the shoulder –trying not to wince at the sharp crackle of errant spiritual energy that made his hair stand on end— and strode towards the small apartment’s front door.

<{-----+}

(The comforting feeling of cigarette-&-embers moving away as the man left to go somewhere else. A patchwork quilt of sightsoundhisnothis as the world blinked by in a series of snapshots going back and forth. The acid-fire of pins and needles and an ill-fitting skin being pricked like a pincushion. A flawed restructuring of self; error...action rendered incomplete, energy going into stabilization. Awaiting further instructions. A Whole-and-Fragments with overlap grating painfully against one another. A lantern spark of a familiar yet not Soul forcing a hard reset; new patterns found, translation successful, installing █̵̨̝͈̍█̶̢̛̼̼̥̩̈́̄̑̀̈́͜█̴̖̱̍̋͗█̷̪̒̄ͅ█̸̧̛̠̞͙͍͊͆͂͑̀█̴̧̜̺͈͕̓̑ͅ█̵͚͙̏͂͐̑̋ ̵̝̽̿̿̈͒█̶̯̼̣̟̏̐̈͂█̷͍̣̜͉̩͔͐̐█̸̢̛̬͉̰̈́̅█̷̡̲͐̏̉█̷̨̰͇͙̹̟̎̀̔̕█̷̰̎̒̓̕͝͠█̶̭̩̻͉̾█̵̳͌̽̋́̓̀█̴͇͙͂̊͋̎͝ ̵̢̠̱̓͆͐█̸̳̻̒͜█̴͕̥̫̽͊͠͝█̴̤̐͂͒͂̈́̕█̵̠̀̇͝█̵̢̳͙͓̟͑̃̅͠█̶̯͍͎̥̱̍͂͠█̷̧̹͈͉͐͝͝. A new equilibrium reached and becoming whole. Purpose fulfilled, pieces falling into place and a final dissipation...A dearth of energy and thus sinking deeper and deeper into the dark of sleep—)

“Kisuke would have some idea of what to do about this.”

A twitch.

(The distant sound of a voice low but urgent and the slow rousing of a distant memory. A slightly cracked door and the rising of noise from the source, as if it were someone that was trying to be quiet but had begun to forget themselves in their frustration. It enough to remember something as neurons rubbed together enough to connect that this was something they did not want to happen at any cost. Driven by pure instinct they lurched up, the world spinning at the sudden movement. They couldn’t stay here. They needed to get outside. Pitching forward, the fall was mercifully muffled by the thick fibers of the large area rug. The fading echo of white static as circulation returned to limbs having had long since fallen asleep and the nauseating rush of a world that was blurry and too bright and alive was a strong deterrent but they couldn’t curl up and sleep until the phantom ache of pins and needles faded away along with the rest of their problems like they desperately wanted to. The faint smoke-wrapped ember that filtered in from the cracked door behind him was as comforting as a funeral pyre at the moment and only served to remind them that they needed to move.

He hadn’t noticed them yet, but it was just a matter of time.)

(Could we take him out and make a run for it?)

(No. That would bring pain and death. Can’t get caught. Fate worse than death.)

(But they already ached so much. It was as if a yawning chasm had opened up in their very existence, and to fill that emptiness it needed to consume and consume and consume until there was nothing left. The void where that ocean once stood was so empty and they felt so h u n g r y.)

(They had to find another way. Unbidden, their gaze turned to the balcony and the hazy light of the moon above. The way that it filtered down through the clouds as it cast everything in a soft glow was honestly kind of beautiful. Another stirring of a half-remembered conversation from a world that had been dead twice-over where two overlapping viewpoints met and interlaced; it had been stupid and banal, something to pass the time as they raced across endless monochrome sands and keep himself from going nuts from the lack of visual stimuli and had startled an undignified snort out of his mouth but one thing that remained the same was that large unreachable light overhead.

The reverie was shattered when the voice in the hallway went silent for a bit too long. The lack of sound causing their hackles to rise in warning. Shit, he couldn’t be wasting time like this, they had to get out of there! But how? And yet despite it all that moon still loomed on the horizon.

...They had an idea.

There was no time to think, the quiet patter of footsteps and the desperation of the void spurred them on. They lifted a hand to the dark world behind the glass, fingers that were already far too pale clawing forward; their owner driven by some inbuilt instinct as they tried to grasp something far beyond mortal reach.

And then they grabbed it and tore the world asunder.

The body moved, jerking up and through the gaping maw without a second thought. Having served its purpose, the crack stitched itself back together, allowing reality to reseal behind it as if the aberration had never been there to begin with.

And then there were none.)

Ichigo (Who Is Currently Possessing Uryū): -Calls Isshin "Dad"- Isshin: -With joint custody and adoption papers at the ready- Congratulations and welcome to the family New Son. You have gained +1 dad. There is no escape. Also Uryū: Now it is imperative that we blend in to this world as not to give cause for alarm to the local populace and ruin our plans. -Acts sketchy af and passes out two seconds after meeting that world's version of his friends- ... Uryū:...Nailed it. (Fun fact: That plush dubbed “The Huntress” was one of the first that Uryū ever had made for him and it was based off of a mix of traditional Quincy stories that his Grandfather told him and tales about his adoptive daughter in her youth Masaki. Not that he knew it was her specifically until much later. Ichigo had a matching “The Hunter” one that vaguely resembled Ryūken that Isshin managed to “lose in the wash” when his wife and son were out grocery shopping one day. He had to sleep on the couch for a week for that one.)

[womanlives]

THESE BRAIN BUGS REALLY KNOW HOW TO FUCK UP A PERFECTLY NICE MOMENT. One second Mercy’s trying her best to illicit a laugh; the next she’s in the middle of a city on fire. The whiplash is excruciating as two traumas erupt simultaneously and collide. Panic, fear — hers, and yet not hers at the same time — family? Then someone’s boot crashes down on her skull and the vision splits in two. Her mind reels. In front of her, Bethany winces and folds in two.

“Waukeen’s — tits.” It comes out as a strangled gasp. Mercy? Not being able to curse? Truly, a horrifying first. She does her best to be cavalier, trying to summon up a nonchalant little laugh with a wave of her hand. This? Oh, happens all the time! But the fear’s still there. It’s transformed, see, and it’s growing ever stronger.

First fear, worst fear: what will you do, little girl, if Bethany sees? She shies away from the answer, and her tadpole takes full advantage. The connection’s still closing, see; there’s still a crack.

In the wake of the stampede, the dust rises. It takes the shape of a wizened, bony man with the longest fingers you ever did see. He has a kind face, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s got you by the throat. You’re small; those long fingers wrap all the way ‘round and squeeze. What did you see, Girl? The press of a blade against the flat of your starving stomach. What did you see?

Reality crashes back with an audible snap. And with it, a revelation. Mercy’d been lackadaisical about the threat of the tadpole before — if it wanted to flay her skin from mind, it would have gotten on with it, already — but not anymore. A whisper, from somewhere long-forgotten in the dark: our secrets die with us.

Redirect; cover. Pretend, pretend, pretend. Mercy finds the end of Bethany’s sentence and clings to it like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. “Baldur’s Gate?” Gods be damned. Of course it’s Baldur’s fuckin’ Gate. “Oh. Well. It’s a nice enough city — ” lie “ — and I’m sure your uncle’ll be more than happy to take you in — ” lie “ — and who knows? Maybe you’re right. Maybe we will meet ‘em somewhere along the way.”

Lie, lie, lie.

Mercy rubs at her forehead. Searching for anyone?

“Yeah,” she says, and it’s so depressingly easy to keep the wheels turning. She grins at Bethany, then lifts a hand to hover about a foot or so above her head. “Someone tall. Brooding, but with a sense of humor. Buff, so they can carry our shit. Patient, kind, yada yada, but most importantly: rich. Really fuckin’ rich. I mean, buy a godsdamned town-level rich.” Money is power. Money will always be power. She wiggles her eyebrows. “Thoughtful — the sort that gets you presents, and not just when they’ve fucked up. With dimples, maybe. Should I add dimples to the list? Or am I setting my standards too high?”

A faux pout. Then she shrugs, and brightens.

“Whatever. We’re probably better off looking for your people. Since, y’know. They actually exist.” Mercy nudges Bethany’s side with a wink. There’s a moment of silence as she looks back down at her pack. This isn’t what she’d intended it for, but — fuck it. She reaches in and pulls out a small, beautifully ornate box. Unlike a lot of shit she carries around, this has been treated with obvious care: cleaned, polished, loved. It’s a music box — the very same as the one that’d been nestled behind the goblin trader in their camp. Now it’s clear why Mercy’d started that game of ‘spin the bottle’ with all those drunk goblins a few days prior.

“Here.” She passes it to Bethany. “Kinda outta tune, but.” A shrug, albeit a sheepish one. “I dunno. Struck me as odd, to see such a pretty little thing in that camp. Survived the burning of Waukeen’s Rest just like you survived the shitshow that was — whatever that was. So.”

She scratches her cheek. There’s a week-old cut that’s healing, and it’s starting to itch something awful.

“Maybe before we head out, we check back in with the druids, yeah? They got powerful magic. Maybe one of ‘em can do that thing where they look from afar. Scrying, yeah?” A small crack in the façade: this isn’t common magic. At least, not to the average thief. That she knows about it all speaks to powerful friends — and, perhaps more truthful, powerful enemies.

The good old 'infinitely disarming' trick. Always a fun gag. Bethany had seen something similar once from her friend Isabela when she had taken her out to The Bent Helm. The amount of knives that 'bela could conceal on her person was inspirational, quite frankly.

But Mercy's joke nor the nostalgia of memory are quite enough to pull her mind completely back from that clouded feeling of being so utterly and unpleasantly adrift that hangs in her skull like an unseen weight. The companionship of those she's met who all share a tadpole'd fate is nice, bonds of circumstance strengthening with each new battle and twist in the road both literal and metaphorical, but the absence of her twin -- of all her family -- is like a cold shard in her innards every time she thinks about it.

Solution: Try not to think about it. Which has even worked some of the time, but it fails her now.

An odd throb in her temple is provoked by Mercy's question, a sensation that has been growing uncomfortably more familiar of late. The tadpole wriggles in her skull as if tapdancing upon her misery, and unbidden it searches for connection with Mercy's as the last memory Bethany has of Carver begins to unravel and threads between them.

Screaming in the streets. Fire. The smell of sulphur and death. Pained cries. A crowd surging in every direction all at once, chaotically. A brief glimpse of Carver and mother Leandra as bodies part then slam together again as people attempt to flee, making a wall separating them. Her own scream, drowned out in the cacophony. Slipping on blood-slicked streets. Almost being trampled to death by a stampede and barely making it out intact.

"Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I don't know HOW the worm did that. Fuck." An innocent question, no doubt conversationally meant, didn't warrant a front row to a horrific snapshot of the descent. Bethany's issues and pain are her own and should not be inflicted on others. "Sorry," She repeats. "But that's the last I saw of them. If we got separated and made it out alive we were to meet in Baldur's Gate, I have an uncle there. Who knows, maybe we'll even meet them on the way." There's a forced inflection of hope in her voice, mustering a force of positivity that she doesn't fully feel.

"What about you, you searching for anyone?"

[freshwitchgladiator]

hm

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 12: Crossover

Audio Transcript of I Don’t Get that Reference, Episode 148: When a Stranger Calls

[IDGtR intro music]

Castiel: Welcome to I Don’t Get that Reference, a pop culture podcast that analyzes beloved movies, television shows, and the occasional meme that I have never heard of before. On today’s third annual Halloween crossover episode –

Dean: Fuck, don’t hype it up too much; it’s just me. Shit, can I swear?

Castiel: – episode my guest is, once again, Dean Winchester. Dean is the host of American Nightmare, a podcast that looks at a different urban legend every week.

Dean: Cas?

Castiel: [Sigh] Yes. Like you ask every year, you can swear on this podcast.

Dean: Fuck yeah.

Castiel: Dean, do you have anything else to add to your introduction?

Dean: Nope, you covered it. My brother is a true crime freak, and I love horror movies, so we figured urban legends would be a happy medium.

Castiel: Do you have a favorite episode to promote, for people who have never listened to your show before?

Dean: Uh… oh, right! Our Killer Clowns episode. Sam nearly shits himself halfway through ’cause he’s scared of ’em.

Castiel: It’s a pretty common fear, to be fair.

Dean: Yeah, but most people can watch a Ronald McDonald commercial without hiding behind the couch.

Castiel: But he is very… humanoid for a fast food mascot. During my Star Wars series with Charlie Bradbury, we discussed the uncanny valley phenomenon, and I’d say it applies here. I can see how Ronald McDonald would be alarming to any child.

Dean: By “child”, are you including 17-year-old juniors in high school?

Castiel: … no.

Dean: [laughs] Yeah, so in that episode we talk about John Wayne Gacy, Poltergeist, and Plucky Pennywhistle, of course.

Castiel: I have heard of John Wayne Gacy.

Dean: Alright, that’s just tragic. You listen to me, we’re gonna do a Halloween lightning round next year: Nightmare on Elm Street, Saw, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre... shit, it won’t be a proper education without Hell Hazers, I, II and III and All Saints’ Day. You’ve gotta see All Saints’ Day and my favorite, All Saints’ Day 4: Hatchet Man Live, plus Hatchet Man V: The Search for David Yaeger since it's so fucking weird.

Castiel: That seems like a lot of content to cover for one episode.

Dean: You have a lot of catching up to do.

Castiel: That’s why I have this podcast.

Dean: We could do a two-parter?

Castiel: I think you’re vastly overestimating my interest in horror movies. If it wasn’t for people’s inexplicable obsession with Halloween, I wouldn’t watch them at all.

Dean: Aw, are you scared?

Castiel: No.

Dean: I think you are!

Castiel: I simply refuse to let you bait me into watching a dozen hours of fake blood sprays and jump scares.

Dean: C’mon, you know it’s more than that. Don’t make me bust out my horror movie conspiracy theories.

Castiel: Dean –

Dean: You asked for it!

Castiel: [indistinguishable muttering]

Dean: Horror movies are all about economic anxiety. I got the idea from Sammy, but here’s the gist: the classic horror movie protagonists are all white middle class kids or grown-ups. The movies are set in their “safe spaces”, like summer camps or suburbia –

Castiel: Like in When a Stranger Calls and The Sixth Sense.

Dean: Exactly! [pause] Hell, you watched The Sixth Sense without me?

Castiel: I watch most movies without you, Dean.

Dean: Dude… that’s cold.

Castiel: It’s a plain fact. You talk too much. I’m there to watch the movie and not listen to your commentary, especially when we have a podcast to discuss it later.

Dean: Ouch.

Castiel: But, I’m more than happy to watch a movie for the second time with you! I already know what happens, so I’m less worried about missing crucial plot points.

Dean: I guess that’s fair.

Castiel: Good. I hope you’re not offended?

Dean: [pause] A little. Y’know how you can make it up to me, though?

Castiel: Oh no.

Dean: A horror movie marathon!

Castiel: I can’t believe you just did that.

Dean: Better believe it, sweetheart.

Castiel: [a long pause] Will you talk over the scary parts?

Dean: For you? Of course.

  ★★★★★ CemeteryBoysGB, 09/15/22 Love this podcast

I discovered this podcast a week ago, and I am hooked! Castiel asks such good questions and his voice is so easy to listen to.

★ Potoooooooo, 09/18/22 Waste of time, probably fake

The host can’t really be this clueless. Who has never heard of the Sopranos before?

★★★★★ Spoopys_of_Love, 10/01/22 Favorite

As a newcomer to the USA, this podcast is a lifesaver! I especially liked the series on Steven Spielberg’s movies.

★★★★ Deanspie, 10/17/22 Awesomest  

I came here from American Nightmare, and the vibes are great, but wayyy different. Dean’s normally pretty flirty when they have guests on (shoutout to Lisa!) but this was off the charts. Are Castiel and Dean a thing? Their banter is A+

Skip to 15:18 if you want to hear them talk about the actual movie, lol

[onecanonlife]

In which Tommy has a nightmare, and enderwalk!Ranboo is of the opinion that grass blocks make everything better.

(word count: 1,413)

----------

Tommy jolts out of a nightmare that he doesn’t want to remember, and a few seconds later, finds himself hyperventilating outside on the grass.

It’s not on, is what it is. He hardly asked for this, for these awful dreams and this inability to sleep for more than a few hours at a time at best, for this creeping certainty that Dream is breaking out, is going to come for him, and that it’s only a matter of time before something awful happens. He didn’t ask for any of this, but he has it, and he’s not moving out of his house, because that would feel like a concession, but on nights like these he wakes up and the dirt walls press in around him and he can’t breathe, and it is completely and utterly the worst.

So. Outside. Grass. Hyperventilating.

Calming himself down is old hat, by now. He figured out how to do it a long time ago, around the time when he realized that there wasn’t going to be anyone holding his hand anymore, that he was well and truly on his own, without a friend in the world. Other than—but no, he doesn’t go there. He knows better, now, even though his brain still tries to play tricks on him sometimes, tries to convince him that Dream is the only one who actually has his best interests at heart.

The point is, he knows how to do this. He’s used to it. And frankly, he’s glad that he is, glad that he can do this on his own, because he doesn’t want anyone else around him when he’s like this. Doesn’t want anyone else to see, doesn’t want anyone else to know that this happens, doesn’t want anyone else to be able to point at him and go, look, the great TommyInnit brought low.

So when he regulates his breaths and swipes the tears from his face and unclenches his fingers knuckle by knuckle, he looks up and most definitely does not expect anyone to be crouched in front of him. When he sees that there is, he scrabbles backward and lets out an incredibly manly scream, and he doesn’t think he can be blamed for it, because what the fuck?

“Holy shit,” he wheezes, “holy shit, you can’t just—” And has to stop, because it’s not just any weird crouching person. It’s his fucking—what’s the word for when a very irritating and terrible person marries your best friend? What’s the title for that? Annoyance-in-law?

In any case, it’s Ranboo.

“What,” he says, “the shit are you doing?”

Ranboo makes a sound that is not words at all. In fact, it sounds very similar to an enderman vwoop, which, alright, the guy’s half enderman, that checks out. Except, his eyes are also purple, and he looks rather taller than he normally does, even crouching down, so something is weird here. Something is very, very weird.

“Fuck off,” he says. “Go and, go and raise your shitty child or something. Sing ‘im a lullaby. Go on.”

He makes shooing noises with his hands, like one might do to a dog, or a persistent crow. Ranboo tilts his head very slowly, like a complete fucking weirdo, and then rises in one fluid motion, and goes walking off somewhere. Tommy stares after him, because he hadn’t really expected that to work. But alright, he’ll take it.

“That’s right,” he mutters. “Just fucking, fucking leave, go on.” He stares down at the grass, running a shaking hand through his hair. He is, maybe, not quite as recovered as he’d like. He’s usually not, after the initial panic, usually can’t make himself relax until the sun has crested the horizon and the sky has begun to lighten. He’s ruined for sleep tonight, that’s for sure.

But it’s alright. It’s alright, he’s used to it. He can do it. He can do this. He’s a big fucking man, and he can survive on a few hours of sleep a night, and he can avoid looking at himself in the mirror and remembering another face, eyebags just as dark, hair just as wild, eyes only slightly more desperate. He doesn’t have to remember things. Not if he doesn’t want to. He’s great at not remembering things, him.

Footsteps. He jerks, looks up again, and Ranboo is standing over him, and why is he so fucking tall?

Ranboo makes another vwooping sound. And then a little trill, almost like a bird, if a bird gargled gravel and then turned into an eldritch monstrosity. He crouches again, and then holds out his hands, and there is something in them, something that he is offering him, and—

Tommy squints. It’s a grass block.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” he asks.

Ranboo vwoops.

“Could you just stop being so fucking weird?” he demands. “For five minutes? I don’t think that’s too much to ask, really. God, you’re just. The worst.”

Ranboo shifts a bit closer, still holding out the grass block. Like he wants him to take it.

“I’m not taking your stupid block,” Tommy says, and accepts it.

Ranboo vwoops.

“Why would you even—” he says, burrowing his fingers into the dirt. A bit of it crumbles to the ground. He doesn’t understand how endermen manage to do this, keep these blocks in perfect shape, grass and all. “Why would you even give me this? What are you trying to pull on me, eh? It won’t work. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes, pal. You’re up to something. Why are your eyes all purple?”

Ranboo vwoops.

And then—Tommy remembers something. Something he wasn’t particularly trying to remember, and usually, that’s not such a great thing, but it’s not so bad this time. Because this memory is from just a couple of weeks ago, in Snowchester, one of those times that he was trying to hang out with Tubbo, but Ranboo was just there and wouldn’t leave, and Tubbo wouldn’t make him leave, so Tommy spent the entire time being vaguely pissed off. And he was trying not to pay attention to Ranboo, really, he was, except he remembers him saying something about how he gets anxious, and how holding blocks of things and putting them down places helps him. At the time, he made a point of not acknowledging him, because Tommy’s not an idiot. He knew what he was trying to do, and he didn’t appreciate it.

But—

He stares at the block in his hands. And then back at Ranboo.

He wants to be angry, at the idea, at the presumption, because who the fuck does Ranboo think he is, trying to patronize him like this? But Ranboo keeps up his soft warbles, and he finds his eyes filling with tears instead.

“Are you,” he says, and his voice is not choked, it’s not, “are you trying to help me?”

Ranboo vwoops. Chirps. And then reaches out, slowly enough that Tommy doesn’t feel the urge to flinch, and runs gentle clawed fingers through his hair.

“Oh,” Tommy says. And doesn’t lean into the touch. He doesn’t. But if, hypothetically, he does, that’s between him and Prime on high. Or at least, it would be, if all his muscles didn’t go lax a few seconds later, and if he didn’t accidentally on purpose tip forward against Ranboo’s chest.

The dirt slips through his fingers. But that’s alright, because one of Ranboo’s arms wraps around him, and the other keeps carding through his hair, like Wilbur used to do when they were younger and things were better and they were two halves of a whole rather than puzzle pieces that got bent out of shape. The way his head is, he can feel vibrations running though Ranboo’s chest, like the purr of a cat, and it’s going to lull him to sleep if he’s not careful.

He can’t let that happen. He has more dignity than that.

Except he’s very tired. And Ranboo is clearly—sleepwalking, or something. Not all there in the head at the moment. So maybe he won’t remember this in the morning, if Tommy makes sure to wake up first. And that would be alright.

“You’re still terrible,” he mumbles, but the words are slurred, and Ranboo’s arms are very warm and comforting, and he’s drifting. He can feel it.

So he lets himself. Ranboo’s warbles follow him into sleep, and he dreams of stars.

[kats-baku1999]

Hidden Secrets, Part Two.

wait I can’t believe you guys actually like part one (read that here) I was so insecure about posting it. I’m glad, I’m so glad. Everyone was asking for Bakugo’s suffering so here it is…

READ PART THREE HERE

warnings: I won’t even lie to you all, I have father problems, so this writing hit a little close to home. if in any way you think it’ll hurt or upset you, please don’t read any further okay? mentions of cheating and sex too. also there is some momo slander. I am so sorry.

It was as if the entire world stopped spinning for a second. Kirishima took a step in front of you and Haru, standing chest to chest with Bakugo. Bakugo glared at him, before looking at you. Every ounce of anger you felt towards him began bubbling up. There was so much you wanted to say. So much you wanted to scream at him. You couldn’t yet though, not in front of Haru.

“Kirishima, will you take Haru to your office? I know how excited he has been to see it since the renovation,” You forced a smile, and looked at your son who’s middle brow was creased, which was a for sure sign he was worrying about something, “It’s alright Ru, I will come meet you in there soon,”

“Yeah, come on little monster, I have a huge TV in there now!” Kirishima’s tone did not match the glare on his face, “The conference room is open you two,”

“Thank you Ei, have fun sweetheart,” Haru released himself from you, and let Kirishima take him. He perked his head back over Kirishima’s shoulder and gave you a small wave with his tiny little hand. You forced another smile and waved back, before turning around to face your ex boyfriend. His face was still frozen in shock, as he watched his old best friend walk off with the tiny little human.

“Please tell me what the fuck-”

“Go to the conference room, now.” You snapped and stomped away from him. Bakugo followed after, the boots of his hero costume echoing on the floor of the lobby. He clicked the door behind him as soon as he was in the same room as you.

“So did you just plan on never fucking telling me I had a kid?!” Bakugo yelled, his voice echoing. You turned around and glared at him, “When the fuck did you even find out you were pregnant?”

“Oh, I found out a few days before I found out you were cheating on me,” You laughed dryly, “I was going to tell you that night, but I got a little side tracked,”

“Bullshit absolute bullshit, you should have told me!” Bakugo yelled, not backing down, “Four fucking years! Four!”

“Cut the bullshit Bakugo, I came to your office two weeks before he was born, I ran into Momo and she said you would call me, that night I get a simple text that says you wanted nothing to do with him,” You yelled, jabbing a finger into his chest, “Then you just mysteriously move away with Momo, and no one hears from you, and now you are in Kirishima’s office demanding to know things?!”

“What the fuck are you talk about?! What text?!” Bakugo yelled, grabbing your hand and moving it away from him, “I just found out about the kid today! You still haven’t even confirmed that he was mine?!”

“Take one fucking look at him and tell me he isn’t yours, the only thing that even convinced me he might be from some magical conception is that he is so sensitive and caring!”

“(Y/N) what fucking messages? We haven’t talked since the night you left?” Bakugo’s voice lowered, “I promise you, if I would have known about him I would have, I would have-”

“What? Come back to me? Be with me?” Your voice was monotone and cold, he felt like he was talking to a stranger. A stranger that hates him.

“I mean, yeah maybe, or at least I would’ve been there for his first steps, words, breath, just anything,” Bakugo’s anger was subsiding for the first time in years, “Momo, that day, I know what you’re talking about, because she told me that her and I would never be happy as long as we were here,”

“Oh wow, so the person who you cheated on me with was also a liar, what a shock,” You scoffed, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I heard about her and Todoroki, and their affair,”

Bakugo paused for a second, shocked by your apology. Also by the fact that you even knew. It wasn’t public knowledge yet, considering it just happened two weeks ago. That was the one reason Kirishima was even acknowledging his presence again. He was the one who found them together, and despite his anger towards him, at one point Bakugo was his best friend. So he called him, told him to come to the bar he was at. When Bakugo got there, he found Momo practically on top of Todoroki. A poor, still oblivious, Todoroki who was convinced that Momo had left Bakugo. That she had called off their two year engagement.

“I didn’t realize Kirishima told you, still don’t know how he failed to mention my son-”

“Hey, don’t do that okay? Be mad at me for not trying harder, but don’t be mad at Kirishima, he knew if he would have said anything he wouldn’t have been able to see Haru anymore,” You sat down in one of the chairs, “To be honest, I had just planned on you never finding out,”

“That isn’t fair (Y/n), he is my son.” Bakugo’s tone of voice was frustrated and angry. He didn’t want to be mad at you, he knew he couldn’t be mad at you.

“No, he is my son, mine, I’ve done everything, I was there for all of the bruises and scratches, for when he got into my hair gel to try and make himself look like Kirishima, for his birthdays and Christmases, you weren’t there,” You snapped, “Sharing his genetics does not make him your son,”

“No but you don’t get to hold this shit against me, it wasn’t my fault,” Bakugo fired back.

“You’re the one who fucked her,” You sneered. Standing up again, running your hand through your hair, “You cheated on me with her, you chose her over me, you don’t get to be the victim here either, I don’t even get to be the victim, the only person who deserves to even act like the victim is my son,”

“I’m here now, I know now, and I want nothing more but than to get to know him,” Bakugo looked at you with pleading eyes, “To be apart of his life, of your life,”

“I don’t know, I can’t just tell him that you’re his dad, he has been asking for the past year, and he has so much more going on already,” You laughed, “He doesn’t have his quirk yet, it’s becoming evident that he might not ever have his quirk, so how do I tell him that his dad is the number one hero, and a person he idolizes?”

“So you’ve faulted me because my ex fiancé was a psychopath who didn’t think I needed to know about my son, and now because I’m the number one hero- wait, he doesn’t have his quirk?”

“No, no he doesn’t, that’s why we are in town, for Denki and Hitoshi’s wedding, and to see a doctor,” You explained, the tears finally spilling over, “I can’t just dump this on him too Bakugo, please, you have to understand,”

“I do, okay I do, but please I can’t just let you walk away today with him and not do anything, I have to know him, but I don’t want to make this a problem bigger than it needs to be,” Bakugo grabbed your shoulders, “Please don’t make me villain here, okay I don’t want to be,”

“As much as I want to, I can’t, I know I can’t it wouldn’t be fair to him,” You grabbed his hands off your shoulders and held them for a second, a small sob threatening to escape your throat, “But please don’t take him from me, he’s all I have,”

Bakugo stopped and tightened his grip on your hands. Forcing you to look up at him. His eyebrows were creased, furrowed up exactly like Haru’s always did. The same look of concern Haru’s always had on his face when you said something close to sad.

“I wouldn’t think about taking him away, so get that shitty ass thought out of your head right now,” Bakugo sighed, “He doesn’t even have to know I’m his father right now, not until your ready, but I would like to be your friend, your friend that comes around him, your friend that he gets to know like he knows Kirishima,”

“Okay, okay,” You mumbled, nodding your head, “You can pick us up and take us to his doctor’s appointment, then we can all go out with Kirishima after so he feels more comfortable, we can start there,”

“Okay, let’s start there,” Bakugo let go of your hands slowly, “Does he you know like anything?”

“Yes, Bakugo he likes things, heroes specifically, are you going to blow up this office if I say Deku is his favorite?” You wiped the tears off your face, and finally bust out laughing at Bakugo’s groan that followed, “I’m going to grab Haru, I’ll have Kirishima send you my number okay?”

“Okay, thank you, let me know about the doctors thing.”

You gave him a small nod and walked out of the room. Stopping the bathroom to rinse off the tears. When you opened up the door to Kirishima’s office, you found Haru staring at the large tv completely awe struck by the footage of Midoriya fighting alongside Bakugo. One of their earlier fights, they were just barely pros. You remembered it because that was when he and Shinso agreed to work together. That was the fight that introduced you to him.

— a few days later

“Momma, you’re doing your upset walk,” Haru whispered, as if he was telling some kind of secret. Shinso snorted into his coffee, and earned him self a dirty look from you.

“Your mother is just nervous over seeing her friend small human,” Shinso called you out, and earned another dirty look.

“Momma is friends with Dynamight, Uncle Toshi! She has even met Deku!” Haru’s eyes were sparkling as he said it, waving around his Deku plushie.

“You know, I’ve worked with Deku before, almost beat him-”

“In the sports festival, yes Uncle Toshi we knowwww,” Haru groaned, having heard the story at least fifty time. It was your turn to laugh. Haru loved Shinso, but when it came to his favorite heroes, being ranked under his own fiancé was a bit of a sting.. So poor Shinso tries to impress the kid every chance he can.

“You’ve told him the story at least ten times,” You backed up your son, shrugging your shoulders.

“You know, I was in the room when you came into this world little man, I deserve some props as a hero,” Shinso groaned, and Haru just laughed, taking another bite of his cereal.

“I know, but you’re a hero like you know a dad would be,” Haru said casually and both of you froze. He was trying so desperately to figure out what it meant to have a Dad. The last time Kirishima came to visit, he had even asked him if he was his dad because of their red eyes, and how Kirishima is always there for his big moments. Then he asked you if Shinso was his dad, because they both liked cats.

“Haru, our ride is here, we better go outside okay?” You smiled, changing the subject, “Give Toshi a hug!”

Haru jumped down and gave Shinso a quick hug. You grabbed your things, and your files about Haru’s past doctor’s appointments. After he grabbed his backpack you walked over and kissed Shinso’s cheeks, mouthing a quick apology. He waved you off.

“Let me know how it goes,” He smiled, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the doctors appointment.

You picked up Haru and carried him outside. Bakugo waved at you both, and Haru hid his face again. Although he was excited to get to meet one of his heroes, he was also terrified. Bakugo pouted a little bit, and you gave him a small glare. He straightened up and forced a smile.

“I just need to grab his seat!” You forced a smile, trying to avoid how awkward this was. Bakugo shook his head.

“Nope, I bought one, it’s got all the things,” Bakugo sounded proud of himself, you raised an eyebrow but walked towards his car. He opened the door and you saw a seat, one of the ones with a cup holder, and in it was a collectible Deku doll that Haru had wanted for months. Along with a signed picture of him.

“Haru, look,” You whispered, making sure to tell Bakugo later that he can’t just buy his love. Haru’s face lit up though, and he quickly jumped down out of your arms. He grabbed the doll and picture, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Thank you Mr. Dynamight sir!” Haru grinned, before climbing in his seat so you could buckle him in. Bakugo stood behind you, and you could practically feel the grin radiating off of him.

“Call me Katsuki kid, all of my friends do,” Bakugo smiled, and got in the drivers seat. You walked over to the other side, and climbed into the passenger seat.

The ride was quiet, just the sounds of Haru playing with his new toy in the background. Neither you or Bakugo knew what to say to one another. So you just sat in comfortable silence, looking through Haru’s main doctor’s notes. Then Haru needed to blow his nose, and out of habit you opened up the glove box to grab a tissue as if you were in your own car. Inside it though you found Bakugo’s necklace that had matched yours, that you gave back to him when you left. You grabbed a tissue and handed it back to Haru.

“Yours is hanging up on the rearview mirror of my other car,” Bakugo mumbled, his eyes not leaving the road. You studied the side of his face, just nodding in response. It was odd that after all of this time he still had that dumb thing. You two had gotten them on your fourth time of hanging out, he had found them at a festival he made some appearance at. They were cheap, but you both wore them all of the time. The necklaces meant something to both of you, the day you took yours off was the day you knew it was over.

The rest of the ride felt tense. You felt silly over thinking the necklace. You figured he would have thrown them away at this point. When you finally got to the hospital, Bakugo went and found a parking spot. He went to walk in with you two but you shook your head.

“I’m not ready for the rumors to start surrounding Haru, so would you mind just hanging out here?” You whispered.

“Oh, yeah no you’re right, I’ll be here,” Bakugo nodded his head, looking a little disappointed. You climbed out of the car and grabbed Haru, who waved a tiny hand at Bakugo as the two of you walked towards the entrance.

You weren’t in the waiting room for long till you were called into the exam room. They did a few X-rays, and tests, on Haru. Then after about an hour you were sitting in the Doctor’s office as Haru played with his toys on the floor. The doctor say down across from you and showed you all of the test results.

“Well the good news is, Haru will most definitely have a quirk, his body is already adjusted to what his quirk would be,” The doctor smiled, “I’m guessing his father’s quirk has something to do with nitroglycerin?”

“Uh well we don’t actually know much about his father,” You lied, knowing Haru was paying attention now.

“Well Haru has high levels of it in his sweat glands according to the tests, but my only concern is that I think he has some kind of mental block keeping him from using his quirk,” The doctor explained, “You’re quirkless correct?”

“Uh yes sir, I am,” You nodded your head. Haru walked over to you and grabbed your hand. So you put him in your lap.

“Maybe he just won’t use his quirk because he doesn’t want to be different from you, since you are his sole provider,”

“No that’s not it,” Haru interrupted and you both looked at him, “It’s not Mommy’s fault, I just want to use my quirk when Dad comes back for us,”

You felt your heart break into a million pieces.

“Haru sweetie, have you known about your quirk?” You whispered, and he nodded his head sadly.

“I accidentally blew up Mira’s doll at the playground, but made her promise to not tell her parents so you wouldn’t know,” Haru hung his head, and avoided eye contact. Like he did whenever he thought he was going to be in trouble.

“Haru you could’ve told me, then we wouldn’t have had to do all these tests, why didn’t you-”

“I just wanted dad to be the one to help me,” Haru cut you off again, his eyes watering. You let out a sigh and pulled him closer to you. The doctor nodded his head, smiling softly at you.

The two of you walked out to the car again. Bakugo’s head perked up at the sight of you both. He jumped out of the car and opened the door for you to put Haru in. Bakugo raised an eyebrow at the sad look on his face, and then looked at you.

“Tell me he has his quirk? Or at least a hope of one?” Bakugo asked, and you closed Haru’s door. Glaring at Bakugo, before walking over to your door. You climbed in the car and didn’t say a word until you got the park where Kirishima was meeting you guys.

“Hey, Haru why don’t you go with Uncle Ei and play while I talk to Katsuki?” You smiled at Haru, who climbed out of his seat and went to Kirishima who had opened the door for him. Kirishima closed the door and walked away with Haru. Bakugo looked towards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why did you do it?” You whispered and Bakugo just looked even more confused, “Why did you fuck all of this up?”

“What do you mean?” Bakugo’s tone was proof enough that he was annoyed. Not necessarily at you, but more so at the fact he could see Kirishima playing with his son so effortlessly.

“Cheat on me, leave me alone to raise him, leave him confused and upset because all he wanted was his dad,” Your eyes started water, tears threatening to spill over. Bakugo turned his head back towards you, your words stinging a little bit.

“I didn’t leave you alone, I didn’t know.” His voice was stern, “You can’t make me out to be the dead beat father in this situation (Y/n) I would have been there for him if I would have known he was alive,”

You let out a sigh of defeat, making eye contact with him. Bakugo felt his heart break at the look in your eyes. You looked.. Defeated.

“I know, I know it’s my fault okay?” You whispered, “I should have never kept him from you, I should have told you I was pregnant but I was selfish, and hurt, and-”

You were sobbing now. Your words falling off. Bakugo unbuckled your seat belt, and pulled you over the center console so you were sitting on him. He hugged you, tightly. Letting you let out every single sob, as he rubbed your back. You cling onto his shirt as you buried your face in his shoulder.

“I know why you were mad, and I don’t blame you but (Y/n), I would have been there for you both if I would have know,” He whispered against you, you pulled your head back and looked at him.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I still hate what you did to me, to our relationship, but Haru deserves to know his father,” You sighed, Bakugo reached up and wiped some of the stray make up on your face.

“So we’ll tell him?” He smiled hopefully, and you nodded.

“Eventually, eventually we will tell him, but for now I just want you to get to know him, ease him into it,” His smile faded a little but he knew you were right.

Bakugo stared at you and it settled in for him that it was never Momo. It was never once her for him, it was you. Back then, he was too scared to let himself admit it. Despite how long you two had been together when his affair with Momo started, he was scared. Scared of how much he could love a single person. Then he felt guilty because he had no reason to have that fear. He grew up watching his parents have that kind of love. It was his own selfish mindset that pushed him to that decision.. That pushed him to losing you.

You crawled back into your seat, flipping the visor down. Bakugo watched as you wiped the make up off your face. You turned back to look at him, smiling a little.

"I have a proposition for you, if you want to spend more time with him?" Your voice sounded a little nervous, and Bakugo grinned a little nodding his head, "Go to the wedding with us to the wedding? I mean you and Denki were friends right?"

"Are you sure? I mean I know how all of them must feel about me?" Bakugo laughed a little, and you shook your head looking back at Haru and Kirishima.

"They all love Ru, so much, so I think they will understand why I want you there, and besides Hitoshi does nothing but tell me to get back in the dating game," You rolled your eyes, and Bakugo laughed at you a little bit.

"How long has it been since you've been on a date if Dead Eyes is making jokes about it?" Bakugo was half teasing, and half curious what the answer was.

"Oh don't you start asshole, I have been raising our kid," You laughed, a genuine laugh. A laugh that made Bakugo's heart do some kind of internal flip. He smiled softly at you.

"You said our kid," He whispered, and you blushed a little.

"Our kid who is staring in here trying to figure out what's wrong," You laughed, pointing towards Haru who now had an adorable pout on his face. You climbed out of the car and ran towards him, picking him up and spinning him all crazy like. Bakugo smiled as he watched you two together. Realizing that all he ever wanted in life was right here, and in his reach again.

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tagging all of the people who replied to hidden secrets part one <3

there is going to be a part three, and i promise for everyone who asked for bakugo suffering.. it is coming because i am feeling evil >:]

@girl-who-likes-cold-bois , @leximoron , @shyonigirichan , @tspice283 , @heyomie , @beigeunburdened , @xoxo-teddybear , @silentw-lkr , @semhal , @justmewoo , @jazzylove , @nolimitsam , @da1chisjuicywatermelons , @ayoooooooooooo