#hello tickling community. with this work I die

[cacklingyeena]

If I could just. Ah. Throw my hat into the ring for a minute.

Tenna tickling headcanons! BEWARE DR CHAPTER 3 SPOILERS.

LEE HEADCANONS:

• On the scale of loving to hating being tickled, Tenna actually likes it… with a caveat. If he’s tickled on camera, he gets extremely embarrassed and plays it off. Behind the scenes, he’s much more willing to deal with it.

• He’s such a squirmer. The best way I can describe it is that he makes good on the “ant” in his name and tends to flail like, well, a bug stuck on its back! Limbs in the air waving all around. Watch out!

• You can use his unique TV “anatomy” against him! You can’t see it very well, but under the shirt are wires and a few buttons and dials here and there—if you can find them, they’re potent spots. Tug on a wire here, push a button there, he’s your personal Tickle Me Tenna! (Sold separately.)

• He has a volume knob hidden somewhere. The best way to tease him? Turn it all the way down and then tickle him silly. Tease him that nobody can hear him scream! It drives him nuts. (Just watch for him tapping out! Don’t break the poor thing!)

• Contrary to his bombastic, over-the-top camera presence, with his very rehearsed TV host laughter, his real laugh is more goofy and carefree. It’s a really hearty, silly guffaw.

• He’ll shriek if you get somewhere good, though.

• His most ticklish spots are his belly, his hips, his sides, and… the palms of his hands. He doesn’t quite get that one, either. He gets a little sheepish about it when it’s discovered.

• He likes being tickled for the undivided attention it gets him. So, typical tickle teases might get to him a little, but what really kills him? Stroke his ego a little and validate his want for attention.

Ex: “Aw, you’re so fun to tickle!”

• Did you know his screen turns into color bars when he’s extremely flustered? It’s so much his brain has to We’ll Be Right Back!

• He doesn’t get hoarse necessarily if he laughs too hard. If he laughs too much, his voice becomes kind of staticky and tinny, like the quality of his audio becomes very compressed. It’ll go back to normal once he can catch his breath, though!

But once he does…

LER HEADCANONS:

• IT’S! TIC! KLE! TIME!

• He’s embarrassed about getting tickled in front of a camera. But he will not give you that same dignity.

• His tickling is primarily retaliation for something.

• Suddenly you’re stuck in a physical challenge. Uh oh! You gotta hold your own prizes over your head! If you drop them, they’re gone! Nevermind that he’s scribbling you under the arms and trying to make your life absolute hell while the timer ticks down… a little more slowly than usual… but hey, time is never conveyed accurately on TV!

• Sometimes it’s a stealth mission. You have to hide somewhere in his provided rooms. He’ll come searching for you with the clock ticking down. When he finds you? However much time is left is how long you get tickled for. Only one problem… you do know that every inch of his studio is covered in cameras, don’t you? Because he WILL remind you as he’s looking.

• When he gets in that playful, vengeful mood? The fangs come out. The gloved fingers are wiggling. He 100% plays it up for the camera, too.

• When teasing, it’s actually more indirect stuff. It’s little things he laughs and comments to the audience as he’s tickling the daylights out of his poor victim.

“Wuh oh! Look out, folks! They’re getting hysterical!”

“Watch out there in the front row! We’ve got flying limbs!”

“Let’s get an audience vote! Where does that tickle spot have to be?”

• Though, the direct stuff is… just as bad!

“What? You wanna tap out already?! But you’re having such a good time! LOOK! The Fun-o-meter is just going up, UP, UP!” (accompanied by his gloved fingers crawling up their torso)

• He’s not immune to cuteness, though! If the person he’s tickling has a really adorable laugh, or if they squeal or snort, he gets that funny wobbly smile on his face before a flower sprouts from the tip of his nose and he erupts into an “AWWWW! ❤️” along with the audience. (This is arguably worse than being teased.)

• He likes using his size-changing to his advantage. It makes people very easy to pin. Or maybe he’ll shrink down real tiny and jump into someone’s shirt to scamper around!

• In private, he’s more of a cuddly, loving, but no less playful ler. He likes to gather his lee into his lap and wrap his arms around them with a big “c’mere, you!” before going to town on them.

• Oh, and better hope you’ve never watched any tickling scenes on his screen. And you better extra hope you’ve never rewound any. He noticed. He noticed it all.

[wxsteriawishes]

caleb being a gemini

(post-writing clarity: i always write too much omg 😭 )

go back to masterlist

content: use of pet names (pipsqueak)

gemini sun man attributes

certified yapper, communicator, curious, witty, playful, shapeshifter, masked

♊️ certified yapper ♊️ with his sun sign ruled by mercury, this man is all about communication. and he talks and talks and talks. . . oh, he can't shut up. the second you pick up the phone and you've said your "hello"'s. the moment you let him, he's on one of his rambles. talking a storm up about that new metal he got for his helicopter prototype. he's venting about subordinates that just don't know what they're doing. he's giving you advice on how to know if the fruits in a store are ripe. he can't shut up. he takes advantage of how sweet you are, how you'll always listen to him, going on about this and that. you don't have the heart to tell him you're tired, often accidentally falling asleep on call by sunrise. he never complains, finding your determination adorable.

♊️ communicator ♊️ there's a reason you fell in love with him. he understands you. he listens to you, even when you were kids. whenever you needed to talk, he was there. advice? vent? just a random question? you could always go to him. he'd sit down and stay quiet, comfort you until you were sick of him, cheered you up until you forgot what the initial topic even was. the only times you fought were when your safety came into question. but even then, if you complained, he'd listen to your struggles. he'd consider them (even if he'd rather die than relent), because he knew you. because he loved you.

♊️ curious ♊️ he's inquisitive about you, always wanting to know more, careful to never make you feel like he's interrogating. you wonder when he suddenly seemed to know everything about you. he calls it curiosity, you call it being nosy. when he steps into your room and you put your phone away, just a little too quickly? his puppy ears perk up. he's on the case. "what are ya hiding there, pipsqueak?" he needs to know. it could've just been an embarrassing purchase you told yourself you wouldn't get but ended up caving in anyways. it doesn't matter. he needs to know. you developed an allergy to something? huh, funny. what in it triggers you? he'll do his research. which alternatives could he buy instead to make sure his food still tastes the exact same for you? only the best for his girl.

♊️ witty ♊️ he always has the last word. always. except for when you're pissed at him and he doesn't wanna dig himself a deeper grave. but he typically wins the arguments, has the better logic. if you complain about your lack of freedom, your lack of privacy, he'll make you sound crazy, paranoid. he'll twist your words, make his points sound so reasonable. he knows how to use his words (again, great communicator) and he's quick with it. he checks himself when he finds himself exaggerating, he's always trying to be logical. if he acts on emotion, there's a chance that he might be wrong, and he can't have that (is that the chip speaking?). when he's in colonel mode, his words are magic, they are lethal. he can back someone into their lies, he can trick secrets out of a trained spy. if he's dealing with the best? just know he's better.

♊️ playful ♊️ everything you know about pranks, you learned from caleb. he was the mastermind. every single april fools day, he'd make it his mission to catch you off guard. and he always did, it annoyed the shit out of you. but you just learned to fight back. if you couldn't avoid his pranks, then, hell, neither would he. he's well-versed in sarcasm and dark humor, but his oldest work is definitely the dad joke. they actually suck. but he grins so hard when he delivers the lines, like he just discovered a new animal, you can't help but laugh. not at the joke, but at him. when you tell him just that, he pounces on you to tickle you. you know you've lost, because he knows every single tickle spot you had. and that fucker just conveniently happened to not be ticklish so you couldn't fight back. not here. but he'd get his payback later, you'd make sure of that. . .

♊️ shapeshifter ♊️ he is a mirror. some may think him "two-faced," but he only reflects. if put in a strange situation, he changes to better fit the unfamiliar circumstances. he adapts. if he came face-to-face with a snarky classmate, he'd match the energy. he rolls his eyes? he turns his desk away from him in the middle of class. his teacher's more soft-spoken? his voice gets a lot more gentle when he asks her a question. he mirrors that which he gets, always feeling the need to blend in, to push the energy out. but with you? he lets himself feel. he absorbs. he admires. and he mirrors your love.

♊️ masked ♊️ he has a lot of individuality. there are the big things that make him up. he's a colonel, ambitious, a loverboy, intelligent, loyal. and then, there are the little things. his fixation on aerodynamics, his. . . affection for specific undergarments of yours, his preference for apples over literally any other fruit. strange. he thought he was a little unusual, yes. he's been in a house that exploded, he has a bionic arm, he trusts no one and he knows no one. but you. he won't share his life to anyone, he won't reveal any part of his soul to anything. especially now that he's in such a dangerous place. but he's always had space in his heart for you. with you, his mask falls instantly.

[elwenyere]

Happy ao3 milestone day!!!

For asks: 5 for Separation, 17, 49? 💖

Hello Serie, and thank you!!! Questions are from this post.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [Separation]? Answer it now!

So there's a book of photography that plays a fairly central role in the fic: Nan Goldin's The Ballad of Sexual Dependency. I first learned about the book and about Goldin's work reading the essay "Ghost with a Camera," by Alix Beeston, which is about photography in Ling Ma's novel Severance. To me the book is attached to a number of other currents in Separation. It serves as an emblem of the kind of bohemian community Ice could have had and thus for a sexual freedom he's chosen to give up. It's diaristic and candid and publicly visible in a way Ice decidedly isn't. And it's a volume that reads, retrospectively, like a eulogy or memorial for lives lost to the organized abandonment of the 80s and early 90s, and in that sense it sort of echoes the way Ice can only understand what his lost relationship with his cousin means in retrospect.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

I gave one answer to this question here. Another one, which is not as specific, but which I do long for, is a Codywan X-Files AU.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

As you know, I am currently writing what I think might be the saddest fic I've ever written: working title "Four Funerals and a Wedding." Here's a little snip of the first section. CW: grief

She has to hold it together for Bradley: she has to make him feel safe. Last night in front of the mirror she’d practiced saying “usually when you get hurt you get better” and “accidents where people die are very rare,” but it doesn’t feel true. She feels so frightened. She doesn’t know why she feels so scared for Nick now, after he’s already gone. When she tells her brother Ted she thinks she’s passing her own fears on to Bradley, Ted says she’s worrying too much, but two weeks after Goose died, Bradley runs and hides behind the couch when her friend Sherri stops by with a lasagna. He doesn’t want to leave the house – not to go to the park or to the library – and when Carole coaxes him out to run errands and pulls into the Hedlunds’ driveway to see if he’s up for a playdate with Nate, Bradley refuses to get out of the car. “Don’t you want to go on the trampoline, sweetie?” Carole asks, and Bradley clutches his bear and shouts no.  “I want to go home. I don’t want to play here.” So Carole takes him home and plays trains and pillow tag and polar bears. “I’m a baby bear, and I need a mommy,” Bradley says, and she wraps him in a blanket and kisses his forehead and tickles his ribs, and when he’s finally stopped calling for her from his bed at night, she sits on the stairs and feels her eyes rasp like wrung rags against their sockets. She presses her palm to her chest. She lances her nails and she squeezes until the ache drains into a throbbing stream of please please please please please that will never be answered. A week later, Maverick calls. “You two up for some company?” he asks, and the only company she wants is Nick’s – his laughter too loud in her ears, his hands spread on her hips or clasped over her breasts, his sweat tacky against her skin as they danced or they slept or made love – but she says yes.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello hello!! I love finding all of these new ttrpgs through your blog -- keep up the good work! ^^ Do you have any suggestions for ttrpgs (solo or otherwise) that are focused on selling food? Like through food trucks, taverns, stands and the like, a bit more casual?

Theme: Diners, Drive-Thrus and Dives.

Hello! I’ve managed to talk a lot about games that focus on selling things in the past, so I don’t have much that is new for you. Here’s one about Running A Store, here’s a list of Diner Games, and here’s one about Running a Tavern.

The Haunted Cafe Chronicles, by Merrigol Apothecary.

Serve customers and battle spirits in a cozy cafe. Can be played solo or with a GM, perfect for a cozy Halloween night. This is a recent game that just came out. It includes a small map with some basic locations, as well as a few cute pieces of concept art! Great for a small game with a haunted twist.

Le Systeme D, by Monkey’s Paw Games.

One of the runners just fell down the stairs and broke their ankle, and they need forks on table number seven, and the twelve-top arrived late and is eating up half the dining room while they linger over cognacs, and the customers waiting by the bar and shivering in the street are getting hungry, haunted looks in their eyes…

Le Systeme D is a Belonging Outside Belonging game about restaurant workers pulling together to debrouiller or demerder - work their way out of tough situations, relying on adaptability, inventiveness, and teamwork. I love the collaborative nature of building the restaurant, as well as communal responsibility for minor characters who show up in the scene. The atmosphere for this game is truly impeccable and I'm definitely intrigued.

The Laughing Kobold, by therabidbanana.

The Laughing Kobold is a GM-less role-playing game for one or more players where you play the owners of a struggling restaurant just trying to get by in a realm of magic and monsters.  While others may live a life of adventure diving into unexplored dungeons and slaying evil dragons you would be happy just to make rent this month on your small diner. 

The Laughing Kobold is based on Charge rules and the GM-less episodes are driven by the Threads of Lachesis system.

The Charge ruleset is very reminiscent of Forged in the Dark, so if you’re familiar with any FitD games, you might find some common elements here. I’m very interested in the Fate Die mechanic, which gives you a number of d6 to roll at the beginning of the session, which help you determine the story prompts of each episode arc. There’s a lot of fun tools to play around with here, so if game design is your cup of tea, I think it’s work checking out!

Also...

There is an old game jam on Itch.io called Our Little Food Jam that was run back in 2019. There might be something there that tickles your fancy!

[theleetoalerandalertoalee]

This is a request by:

@justaposibblytransgirl

Here’s the fic you wanted, girlie<33

(Hu Tao x Yanfei)

Summary: Hu Tao is taking Yanfei on a trip so that workaholic can finally take a day off :)

Enjoy ^^

“Ah, just the person I was looking for~!”

Hu Tao waves to Liyue’s renowned legal advisor, skipping towards her.

Yanfei looks up from her Book of Laws, and her cyan eyes now study the approaching Director of the Wangshu Funeral Parlor.

“Hello, Hu tao,” Yanfei closes her book, “did you get caught in red tape, finally?”

“Ah…ha…” Hu Tao takes a deep breath, as if she ran through all of Liyue to find Yanfei, “yes…you were right…”

“Oh? About what?”

Hu Tao sighs, wringing her hands together as she looks down at her shoes, “I shouldn’t have held that tie-dyeing event at the old folks’ home…”

“No, it wasn’t because of the event, it was because of the slogan.”

“I know but…’Everybody Dies’ is a great one! It serves as a pun as well as a message!”

“Sure…so, what happened, then?”

“Uncle Tian scolded me…”

“You’re lucky that’s all you received. In Article thirteen, section five, subarticle two states: Any form of ostracization to a community is prohibited by law; any and all offenses is punishable by judge and jury.”

“Aiya, I know but…”

“I understand. Your job is a difficult one, but it is one that needs to be done. Thank you, even though some of your methods can be…questionable in nature.”

Yanfei pauses before continuing, “hm…how about you show me one of those shirts from the event?”

Hu Tao grins excitedly, revealing a dyed shirt.

“Hu Tao…is that a coffin?”

“Of course! It’s the latest model made with Yumemiru wood!”

“How’d you get your hands on Inazuman wood?”

“The International Trade Association is easy to work with. They’re my new favorite supplier!”

“I see…”

“Come on~ don’t you remember what you promised me today, Yanfei~?”

“Oh…is today the day…?”

“Yes!”

“Well,” Yanfei puts her book away, “where are you going to take me?”

“Qingce Village~!”

“Oh? Why there?”

“You’ll see.”

As the two walk, they pass by Wuwang Hill.

Hu Tao suddenly tased Yanfei’s sides, “boo!”

Yanfei jumps, “wah-?!”

“Hehe, sorry~”

Yanfei smirks, “objection!”

Yanfei tackles Hu Tao, sitting on the Director’s hips, her back facing Hu Tao.

“Aiya-!” Hu Tao exclaims as she tries to throw Yanfei off of her.

“The defendant finds the prosecution…guilty of not truly being sorry!”

Yanfei squeezes Hu Tao’s thighs and the Direction squeals with laughter and surprise.

“Hey-! Hahahahaha! Wait- hahahahaha!”

“On the counts of a premeditated tickle attack, the client is…sentenced to a hundred tickles!”

“A hundred?? I didn’t even do anything bad- gah! Hahahahaha!”

Yanfei continues to squeeze Hu Tao’s thighs, slowly going down then back up the muscle as the director tries to grab at Yanfei’s arms.

Hu Tao suddenly latches onto the sides of Yanfei’s rib cage and the legal advisor shrieks, immediately trying to escape.

“Fun’s over~!” Hu Tao pulls Yanfei onto the ground beside her, clawing at the adeptus’s ribs.

“Gyah-! Hahahaha! The prosecution asks for a recess-!! Hahahahaha!!”

“Hmm…permission granted. I’ll take a break from your ribs.”

Hu Tao suddenly digs into Yanfei’s underarms, technically following through with what she said…it only puts Yanfei in a worsening situation, is all.

Yanfei starts snorting, which is only something she does when she loses her composure. It’s extremely rare, and it only makes Hu Tao want to hear more of it.

“I permit you a recess of…hmm…five minutes?”

“Wait- I’ll die! Hahahahaha!”

“That’s just in time for the Funeral Parlor’s sale! Preorder a service with us, and you’ll save 25% on your mora! This excludes taxes, of course,” Hu Tao winks.

Yanfei shakes her head frantically as she’s relentlessly attacked, “the prosecution concedes!! Hahahahahaha!!”

Hu Tao slowly stops, smirking down at Yanfei, “does that mean my original sentence is lifted?”

“Yes,” Yanfei giggles, “yes, it’s been appealed.”

Hu Tao claps her hands together, “perfect~!”

Yanfei sits up, laying her head on Hu Tao’s shoulder, “how about instead of going to Qingce Village…we just relax here…?”

“That sounds good, too.”

“Granny Ruoxin is lovely, but if she sees me again, she’ll never let me leave for a while.”

“Well, consider yourself stuck with me then.”

“Do I get a dyed shirt?”

“Of course! This one is courtesy of the Director~!”

“Aha…funny…wait- you’re serious…aren’t you…”

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for a Fic...

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1. hello, lovely mods. i hope y'all are having a great week! i am in the mood for dark lan sizhui fics. let my boy go feral, i say. thanks for y'all's hard work ♥️♥️♥️

Symmetry by Vir_Abelasan (M, 13k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, One-Sided ChengXian, One-Sided ChengZhui, Canon Divergence, LSZ is raised by wwx, Wwx still dies sorry, Revenge, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dark LSZ, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Torture, Not JC Friendly, JC's Canonical 13 Years Murder Spree, BAMF LSZ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, LSZ Gets to Go Apeshit) one of my favourite fics really. AU where WWX raises a-yuan before dying. Soooo good

Meet Me in the Battlefield by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 8k, WIP, WangXian, MingXian, WangXianJue, Sentient Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, BAMF LSZ)

Son of War, Child of Terror by JaenysBloodcourt (G, 4k, LSZ/OC, Mentioned WangXian, past MingXian, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Wen soulmarks are like a communication web for souls, Lightly Dark LSZ)

🧡 Lan Sizhui Sees Dead People Series by darkbrokenreaper (T, 30k, WIP, WangXian, LWJ & LSZ, JC & LSZ, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, lsz sees dead people, Paranormal) this is LSZ mostly being creepy, but he does take a turn for the scary at one point. Very fun read.

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2. Hi! you guys are doing god's work for taking the time to look for all these fics. i actually sent 2 asks last week but no rush in getting them out!! once you guys are little more free, i would appreciate some older wwx fics. that trope tickles my brain so much i love it! anyhow, thank you again for all your work <3

together, we’re just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, wangxian, past WWX/OFC, modern, younger LWJ, bartender LWJ, older WWX, rich WWX, fluff, yearning, smut, bottom LWJ, LWJ has scoliosis, slow burn)

A Baby Dragon's Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing by sweetlolixo (M, 49k, wangxian, fantasy au, dragon LWJ, fox WWX, younger LWJ, older WWX, fluff, humor, happy ending, WIP)

when you’re ready (we’ll turn the page together) by lazulink (M, 5k, wangxian, modern, nanny au, babysitter LWJ, age difference, dad WWX, older WWX, getting together, family acquisation, fluff, falling in love, pining)

Beyond These Walls, the Heart Calls by wayward_wing (E, 13k, wangxian, fluff, angst w/ happy ending, smut, adventure & romance, prince LWJ, rogue cultivator WWX, bottom LWJ, jealous WWX, older WWX, younger LWJ, getting together, naive LWJ)

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3. Hey!! Any recs for where WWX visits Lotus Pier with LWJ/the juniors and is just nostalgic about it...? @iwhateveryou2331

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4. hi! i'm looking for established relationship fics (wangxian) with angst, please?

today my heart swings by ilip13 (E, 10k, wangxian, mentioned LWJ/WQ, mentioned WWX/Others, modern, established relationship, but also exes, ex sex, implied/referenced cheating, open relationship, hopeful ending)

give something new a try by ilip13 (E, 12k, wangxian, modern, established relationship, angst w/ happy ending, married life, insecurity, jealousy, mentioned threesome (WWX/MXY/LWJ))

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5. Know any wangxian focused time travel fics where one or any of the Trio meet Wei Wuxian as the Yiling Patriarch? (Longer the better!❤)

How the Yiling Patriarch Became Everyone's Gay Awakening by tinitin (M, 17k, WIP, WangXian, WWX/Others, One-Sided Attraction, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Attempt at Humor, Yiling Patriarch kink, Crack Treated Seriously, Time Travel Fix-It, Protective JC, OOC Yiling Patriarch, Attractive WWX)

To attempt the impossible by Rain20034 (T, 108k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Fix-It of Sorts, people still die, Romance, because we all know they're idiots in love, Self-Indulgent, Fluff, mentions of torture) on my to read list, but I'm pretty sure it fits from the summary

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6. Hi there! 👋 so, I have a request for the next itmf but it's nsfw so if that makes you uncomfortable feel free to ignore it!! But if possible I was looking for fics where "free use" is the theme. Free use roommate, free use friend, free use s/o. Anything really! I've seen a fic or two with it but I'm hoping that there's more out there! I'd prefer if its wx, or at least wwx as a main character, but I'll take anything you can find! Thank you very much!!

Good by Anonymous (E, 3k, WIP, WangXian, Conditioning, Manipulation, Dark LWJ)

Kinkotber Day 4: A Shift in Perspective by Anonymous (E, 2k, WangXian, Stockholm Syndrome, Rape/Non-con Elements, there's no violence but he certainly doesn't ask for concent, Dark LWJ, Oblivious WWX, sex as payment for... something, or so wwx assumes, Cockwarming, Exhibitionism, lwj turns wwx into his own personal maid/cumdump, bichen and suibian are bunnies, hanguang-jun is a dildo, bimboification (kind of), collaring (at the end), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, some poor petstore shoppers/employees get traumatized, PWP, Almost No Dialogue)

Kinktober Day 5: Lan-Er-Furen by Anonymous (E, 1k, WangXian, WWX/Others, WWX/Lan Clan, Lingerie, Free Use, Incest Adjacent, mentioned somnophilia, normalized sex, Semi-Public Sex, Glory Hole, Stuck in a Wall, Face-Fucking, Breathplay, excessive cum, Bukkake, Foot Fetish, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Lan Spousal "duties", the Lans run a fucktrain on WWX, this is completely normal for them, constantly referring to wwx as "wife", re: incest tag - none of the lan dicks touch but they all fuck the same person, (that person is wwx), vague non-cultivation/modern au, Almost No Dialogue)

The Most Honorable Cauldron Wei by DC_Derringer (E, 7k, WangXian, WWX/LQR, WWX/Others, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, WWX is the clan bicycle, Dual Cultivation, Sexual Cultivation, weirdly fluffy smut, everyone is nice to WWX because he deserves it, WWX is pregnant with spiritual energy, Vaginal Sex, Come Eating, Dildos, Restraints)

24 Hours by tailor31415 (E, 5k, WangXian, post-novel, PWP, But there’s a little plot, Bondage, Prostate Milking, Dual Cultivation) if you want something like that within an agreed-upon temporary time frame, has WWX putting himself entirely at LWJ’s disposal for the stated period. Although WWX is immobilized throughout, the overall mood is tender rather than dark—which might not be quite what the querent is looking for.

give you a bite and you'll swallow me whole by jtperfecthair (E, 6k, wangxian, modern, ABO, F/F, gender changes, smut, friends to free use roommate to lovers, dub con-ish)

~*~

7. I'm in a mood for Romantic Comedy (tm)!

Some of Vamillepudding's works might fit although they verge on the crack-y.

Close to the Truth by Winglesss (M, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Romantic Comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

r/relationships by vespertineflora (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Viral Reddit Post, Pining, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Comedy, Love Confessions, Kissing, Happy Ending, r/relationships [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

Marital Prospects by Vamillepudding (G, 18k, WangXian, LWJ & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings, LWJ Needs a Hug)

you go your way (i'll go your way, too) by fakeplasticlily (E, 52k, WangXian, Modern AU, fashion blogger au, social media influencers, Travel, Falling In Love, Pining, Humour, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, fashion bloggers wwx and nhs, gaming streamer jc, Romantic Comedy)

A Well-Heeled Man by littlelightbeams (E, 52k, WangXian, Modern AU, Inspired by Crazy Rich Asians, Morning Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sneaking Around, Mistaken Identity, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Declarations Of Love, Sibling Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romantic Comedy)

Love at Second Sight by flowerofgusu (E, 49k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality TV, Musicians Wangxian, Comphet WWX, Coming Out, Demisexual WWX, Rated E for the Small Amounts of Smut, Eventual Smut, Romantic Comedy, Falling In Love, Misunderstandings, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Arranged Marriage)

The Ocean Between Us by catbrainedschemes (M, 41k, WangXian, Modern AU, Historical, Reincarnation, Inspired by K-Drama | Korean Drama, legend of the blue sea, Fairy Tale, Fluff, Pining, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Childhood Sweethearts, Siren!wwx, Human!LWJ, Romantic Comedy, star-crossed lovers, Past LWJ/others (brief mentions), Slow Burn, Angst, Finding each other again)

The Fault in Our Stars by Vamillepudding (T, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Misunderstandings, the title makes it sound like a cancer story, it's not a cancer story)

Lan Xiaohui and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by stiltonbasket (G, 5k, WangXian, Kid Fic, Childhood, Misunderstandings, wangxian are the best dads, nhs and wn are the best uncles, and a-yuan is the best big brother, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sleepy Cuddles, xiaohui is wangxian's second baby, sad baby radishes, Humor)

The (Several) Convenient Kidnappings of the Chief Cultivator by the Yiling Patriarch by misscam (M, 3k, WangXian, Humor, Spoilers, mush of series and novel, some adult action, Switching)

i know who i want to take me home by ScarlettStorm (E, 16k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, bartender WWX, Drunk LWJ, Caretaking, Meet-Cute, meeting your soulmate because someone got him drunk AF and left him at your bar, late-night diner food, Fluff, Comedy, Smut, Minor Angst, major shenanigans)

Covered in Bees by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Beekeeping AU, For reasons, Meet-Cute, Comedy, Fluff, Bees, come for the flirting, stay for the bee facts, and the bee puns, kinkmeme fill, no actual kink)

I get religion quick 'cause you're looking divine by so_shhy T, 7k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Humor, Getting Together, I get religion quick 'cause you're looking divine [Podfic] by Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard) )

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8. Hello and thank you to the mods for all your hard work! I'm in the mood for a juniors-centric fic where the rest of the boys find out Sizhui is a Wen and are protective of him. Bonus points for there being Tension between the boys and their parents/elders/sect leaders (Jin Ling vs Jiang Cheng? Zizhen vs his dad? Jingyi telling off the Lan elders?) on Sizhui's behalf, either because the older gen know he's a Wen and have an Issue with it or because the boys are scared they'll find out (and... have an Issue with it.) Many thanks! @lewiscarrolatemybrain

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9. ITMF request, I'd like fics that focus on wwx integrating into/living in the GusuLan sect after wx got married please! ^^

the lives of birds by bleuett (E, 15k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Fluff and Humor, Family Feels, Established Relationship, Anal Sex, Rimming, Blow Jobs)

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10. Hello im in the mood for a fic where lan zhan realizes his feelings for wei ying like "oh... i do like him" and thinks that wei ying doesn't like him but he does and they confess earlier like during the cave scene where lan zhan sings the song for wei ying if its possible can it have no smut? thank you!

hope dangling by a string by KouriArashi (M, 70k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Psychic Bond, Telepathy, Communication, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, jiang family feels, Lan Family Feels, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing)

(Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You’re an Asshole) by piecrust (E, 22k, College AU, Porn with feelings, Angst) For the latest in the mood post, would -- count? Lan Wangji certainly feels it’s just fuck buddies, but given it’s from his POV it’s unknown if that’s how Wei Wuxian saw it. Or even if Wei Wuxian just thought it was the closest he’s get to a relationship with Lan Wangji anyway and just accepted that.) This one has smut in it

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11. Hi! I hope you're doing well. I'm in the mood for fics centering around the previous generation. I don't particularly care what pairings they have, thank you!

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12. Helloooo!!! Tysm for all the hard work! I’m in the mood for some gremlin wwx fics? Similar to “inter-sect politics for the absolute beginner” and “twin treasures”

Candy & Conspiracies by cl410 (T, 16k, WangXian, XuanLi, MM/WQ, Canon Divergence, Tumblr Prompt, Jīn Sect WWX, Chaos Gremlin WWX, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Cloud Recesses, Found Family, pure idiocy, And some light murder, the chaotic jin trio we could have had, good madam jin, No Angst)

❤️ I Started From the Bottom/And Now I’m Rich by x_los (E, 57k, WangXian, WWX/Others, Mutual Pining, Marriage of Convenience, Arranged Marriage, No Sunshot Campaign, Fix-It, WQ Lives, Transmigration, Time Travel, Weddings, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy, Black Widow, Protective Siblings, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Sugar Babyconsort, Politics, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Crack Treated Seriously) Lots of flavours of gremlin wwx out there, so I hope this fits. But this fic is brilliant!

🧡 how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn, Yuisaki (T, 54k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Actors, Multimedia, Online Friendship, Drunken Shenanigans, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Underage Drinking, Drinking Games, Families of Choice, Ensemble Cast, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Catfish AU)

Meng Yao vs. the Board of the Homeowner's Association Series by Ariaste (M/T, 119k, WIP, XiYao, WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, xiyao and wangxian are both already married, Family Feels, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Slice of Life, Discussions of Past Trauma, wwx's canonical kinks, HOAverse)

Swipe Right by Bowandtie (T, 30k, WangXian, Modern AU, dating app, Liberal use of emoji, 3zuns as bad friends forever, Slow Burn, super slow it's practically sous vide, Crack)

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13. Hello! Do you have any fic Recs for LXC/WN? I know it’s a pretty rare pair, but thank you for trying!

the AO3 tag Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín yields 48 results as of 10/6/2022, 7:24 AM UTC.

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14. for the 'In the mood for a Fic...' thing, could I have any fics where wwx is in love with lwj during the cloud recesses study arc, knows it, and is very loud about it??

Wait, What? by MarbleGlove (G, 1k, WangXian, Time Travel, POV Outsider) It's time travel, but outsider perspective. Short but delightful!

you think you know something you don’t by nu_breed (E, 12k, WangXian, CQL Canon Elements, Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, LWJ Loves Rabbits, First Time, Pining, First Time Blow Jobs, Cloud Recesses Study Arc (CQL), Missing Scenes, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Canon Divergence)

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15.Heyyy another request hehe. So I read something and i forgot the title but it goes like this.. jiang cheng wants to be lan wangji because he has everything he ever wanted.. i think its not jc friendly? Anyway, i just remember jc was the yiling laozu and when it was lan wangji ang wei wuxian's child's 100 day celebration jc attacked lan wangji.. jc was punished in gusu few days later he was freed but he was lost when he heard some lewd sounds so he followed that sounds and saw lz and wy fcking and he watched in envy (?) Lz saw jc and was smug about it.. thats what i remember.. hopefully you guyz can help me again! Thank you in advance!!!!

Or maybe more stories like that^ the previous message ive just sent.. yk onesided jc/wy.. lz/wy in a relationship.. jc found them fcking and was jealous about it and lz smug about it hehe (also in a fic finder) @hellothere9597

Down with the Yiling Laozu!! by Marinelifeclub (T, 5k, WangXian, A-Yuan is Wangxian's son, Character Death, yllz!JC, Role Reversal, mentions of mpreg, Angst, Wangxian happy ending, not for jc fans, Slight OOC, not Jiang friendly) doesn’t seem to have JC catching Wangxian in mid-papapa but hits a number of the querent’s points; YLLZ! JC is certainly an outright villain here.

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16. hi!! for the next IMTF, are there any fics where lwj takes revenge on the cultivation world after wwx death?? i just feel like ive read this sometime and i wonder if there are other fics with this concept. thank you <33

恩仇仙人- Enchou xianren (Immortal Avenger) by AshayaTReldai (E, 133k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Mental Anguish, Major character death (canonical), Whipping, Pining, Revenge, Execution, inter-clan politics, , Reincarnation, afterlife constructs, Ascension, TGCF notions of ascension and deity, First Time, Rabbits!, Post-LWJwhipping, Injury Recovery, Issues of justice, Torture, Not friendly to the Clans - they all get their comeuppance., Hurt/Comfort, Dark LWJ, bunny death, animal cruelty)

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17. Coould mods please recommend their favorite authors? Thanks a lot! (Part of a previous ff request - Mod C)

I'm going to be honest and tell you that I don't really notice which authors I read more than others because I don't really look at the author's name? 😅 I usually just click on whatever story has caught my eye. But I looked through my bookmarks and noticed a couple that I seem to really like and/or have more than one bookmark of -

@shanastoryteller

cl410 aka @i-like-plan-m

TomatenMark (specifically love the fic Stunted, Starving Juvenility)

Sami

Moominmammashandbag

vesna (mrsronweasley)

ThatDesiGirl (specifically love the fic close your eyes, feel my heartbeat)

luckymoonly

yukla

pupeez4eva

Plus a lot of Anonymous and Orphan_Account fics

I'm sure I'm missing some but these are ones I was able to pick out from a quick glance through my bookmarks. - Mod C

-

I don't have many to add to the above list haha

But I've enjoyed reading fics also by Hauntcats, Preludian_Staves, RoseThorne, abCEE, bleuett, curiositea, justdoityoufucker, everythingispoetry, and Vrishchika, to name a few. ~Mod L

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (1)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 1: The Cult

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: torture, sacrifice, undertones of rape

Word Count: I am on a break. It feels good to just breathe without dreading the rest of the day. Why is work so punishing?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

One single machine whirrs in this dull laundromat. The light above you flickers at intervals so regular you have already made a beat out of it. The only other sound distracting enough is some old music playing on the radio at the front desk where no one sits at this hour. And that fan that seems to be breathing its last over your head. "Yeah, it's unbelievably quiet here," you mentioned in a soft tone before looking around the empty space. "I guess I'm glad I only had to stop for three days here." "What? Are you not going to explore this place?" your friend, Zaira's voice crackles through the phone. You shrug despite knowing she cannot see you. "I don't know, Zai, this place gives me the creeps for some reason. I am only hanging around here because Prashant wants to revise the reports I sent him of the soil composition before he gives me a green light to leave this place." "Damn! That bad?" "Oh! You have no idea!" You look around once again. The front desk guy has just come back in his old Chevrolet and the clock has struck nine. "Zai," you whisper in the lowest tone possible, watching the man whistle as he gets out of his car without closing the door, "there are no kids in this village-slash-town." He walks to the back to open the trunk of his car, whistling a somewhat familiar tune. "That's...not haunting at all!" Zaira's sarcasm can be heard in her surprised tone. "Well, what's more haunting is the fact that the youngest person here is an eighteen-year-old boy who keeps showing up anywhere I go and keeps staring at me funny." The man shuts the hood with a loud thump and you can see a fresh bundle of store-bought rope, a baseball bat, a bottle of some chemical-probably for cleaning- and a pair of rubber gloves as he starts walking to the entrance. "Allah-" Zaira takes the Lord's name in surprise- "no wonder they have The Sacrifice playing somewhere there." The man sets everything on the front desk, still whistling the same tune, which you now come to realise is the song that is currently playing on the radio. "The...the what?"

"The thing playing in your background," Zaira comments, "it's playing on a two strong instrument with a looping chorus. It's a pagan ritual song that is sung by some orthodox communities that still present a sacrifice to their pagan gods. We learned this in the summer session for cult studies, boo. Oh, wait. You were back home that time. The chorus basically says 'here's your sacrifice, now pay my dues'." Not a word of what Zaira said is heard after the pagan ritual song because suddenly all the materials resting on the front desk are making sense. So is the creak of the back door that opens to let the only teenager of the town in. Your body is frozen in place, your mind has gone blank. One moment you are running for the exit. And the next, you are lying on the floor with the two men hovering over you while the song calling for your sacrifice slowly fades away. . It is the discomfort from the heat that wakes you up. The sweat and stickiness all over your body slowly registers in your brain that alerts of a throbbing ache at the back of your head with a bang. Everything is a blur for a few moments; till the lights morph into fire beacons and the sun transforms into a bonfire, the figures moving around you become humans with faces smeared in blood. Your clammy skin shines in the light of the bonfire, your hair sticking to any part of you. Tears are rolling down the edge of your eyes while your brain is registering this new pain altogether from the gag in your mouth. You try to move your hand to touch your skull where it hurts, but are unable to do so. My hands...I can't move them. Your dizzy brain gives your body the command again but in vain. "She's awake!" a raspy voice pierces through the air.  And within a speck of a second, all the memories start rushing in. Y/N? Hello? Babe, can you hear me? Adrenaline shoots up in your system and your senses are heightened. The smell of kerosene is heavy in the air along with the crippling stench of burning flesh. You have been bound to a pole with your hands behind you, the bonfire in front of you, the forest surrounding you from every corner and the moonless sky on top of you. The faces in the fire are all familiar. The residents of this town, all staring at you while you struggle to get out of the ropes cutting through your skin, stop their movement to pick up the bowls kept in front of them and drink its contents. Your cries are muffled; partly because of the gag and partly because of the sobs that want to escape your throat just like your tears. Your already broken body jumps when the oldest woman in the group starts shouting phrases in a language unknown to you. And just as she begins, everyone around her takes out a dagger and starts moving in your direction. Your heartbeat seems to drop for a moment. They can see the horror in your eyes. But that does not stop their moments. The woman's chants grow heavier as her hand moments grow more vigorous. The youngest of them all skips a step or two to straight away jump on the platform where you are kept on display. He looks around once and turns to you to move your sweat laden hair strands away from your face. His pale fingers are cold, almost icy to the touch. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," he whispers close to your ears. Your sobs turn to sniffs to hear his words and look into his eyes. Those grey irises are trying to dig straight into your soul. "Trust me." Your instinct- which has never been wrong in your life- is already moving your leg to bend the knee and get his balls. And you do. Watching him writhe in pain for one long satisfying moment as he curses you from heaven to hell. But he gets back up, with the eyes of a madman ready to kill. You are crying out still, for anyone who will listen, in heaven or hell, as he takes you by your throat. The venom in his hold is enough to take your life. "The only way out-" he says close to your face- "is through, you cunt." One last prayer comes out of you as a whimper before you wait for his dagger to meet you.  In the next heartbeat, everything turns white. . Everything is blinded by a white light. It does seem to be the end. Why did I have to die like this dammit?! A Buzzfeed Unsolved episode?! But something does not sit right.  The white light should be the end, right? Then why can feel something wet under my h- Before you realise you are tumbling down the steepness of the forest. Your body can feel every rock and every pebble on the way down the seemingly endless slope. It seems like a long while when your limbs finally skid on flat rocky terrain, bringing the ringing pain to a halt before it can bounce all over your body a bit louder in the deafening silence. The first thing your senses do is look for any sign of danger around you. The forest is dark. And apparently different than the one you were in before. The trees are taller and with trunks that would not fit in your hugs. You cannot see their ends in the sky from where you lay. Not weird at all. The silence too sends your wounded heart into an anxious stir. Not even the cicadas speak here. Am I...dead? Now that definitely stirs something out there. A twig breaks in the distance. You pause your breath and shush your racing heart. A soft rustle of leaves can be heard somewhere that lets your sweat run cold all over the body. It is hard to breathe through the gag as it is, and you are standing nowhere near a hiding spot, making your basic instincts run wild with any shadow you see in this treacherous night. So all you do is stand as still as a trembling mouse and wait. And that wait isn't long. Call it nature's mysterious ways or just a random event happening at the right time, a cool breeze stirs the air for the first time in this place. From where you stand, the breeze hits your back, tickling those sweat beads on the nape of your neck before letting you smell the odour of blood it carries with it. All the neurons inside you make you turn around and face a familiar figure emerging from the shadows with a dagger in his hand. The basic instincts inside you are already making your body break into a run in the opposite direction. The rush of the flight instinct is overpowering all the injuries and you forget for a second that your hands are still tied behind you as you speed straight ahead. But that devil of a man is fast. He has already closed the distance and his hands are grabbing your hair, pushing you both to the ground. He presses you down with his body, not giving you any room to get up or free your limbs. But he does untie your gag before turning you around and holding your neck in a choke-hold. "Please, please, please..." Nothing else is coming out of you at this point; except for hot tears streaming down the side of your face.  "Well," the bastard sighs, pressing down his pelvis on your abdomen while having the audacity to smirk when looking down at you, "we had to sacrifice a virgin. But surely it's going to work the same if I put that mouth to work." The dread of his words does not set in till his free hand reaches for the button on his pants to undo it. The more you try to push away from him, the tighter he grips your throat. Oh, Gods! Just let me die instead. He is halfway undoing his zipper when a sound cracks through the air. It almost sounds like a very quiet motor either just starting or just stopping. And the closer it gets, it starts taking the shape of a growl coming from the throat of an animal. The man is distracted now; looking for the source of the sound. Loosening his grip a bit, he turns around to let his vision get as far in the dark as it could to look for anything out of the ordinary. And while he is busy, it is you who notices its presence and choose not to make a sound. The man turns around to look right into red eyes gleaming at him from a distance of three inches, sending him jumping up and crawling back on the ground as far away from you as possible. Huge white canines visible even in this darkness are on display as this four-legged creature growls in your captor's direction. A twisted horn rests majestically on each side of its head. Paws as huge as a lion's, but claws twice as big and dark as the night are resting on either side of your shoulder. The fur seems dark and dense except for where pointed bones are protruding out on its back. The growl revving in this creature's throat is enough for the predator to crawl back further with his heart stuck in his throat. And before he can figure out what demonic hell this creature had walked out from, he comes to discover another wave of fear when he sees a shadow behind it in between two trees. That shadow seems human. Human enough at the very least until he thought he was hallucinating that figure with gleaming green eyes. "Wh-who's there?!" the man's voice starts in a scream ends up in a squeak. "Get that ugly dog away from here!" The 'ugly dog' shifts from your side to take a few steps towards the bastard, metaphorically pinning him in between the roots of the trees he was sweating in. "Hey!" he shouted again at the shadow, "can't you hear me?!" You sit up, watching the creature slowly ready itself for attack mode. Turning around, you too are able to see a figure. It looks tall and is evidently clad in something heavy. Is that a sword in his hand? But that sword is not as concerning as those illuminated green pupils. "You son of a bitch! Get the fuck out of here before I stab you and your filthy farm ani-" "Rífa hann í sundur," is all you hear in a low hum from that figure's end one second. The next, there are growls and blood-curdling screams emerging from behind you; haunting enough to make you jump and curl up where you sit but never move your eyes away from that shadow that still stands as still as a rock. Tears still fall from your eyes; your legs pulled as close to your chest as possible. The screams continue to come out for a long time...long enough for you to notice a snowflake fall on your knee. More snowflakes come after the first one. And once the screams die down, you feel something brush your hands, almost making your heart fall out, only to realise that creature standing right behind you nudging at your ropes to gnaw your hands out of them. The adrenaline rush has diluted now. The pain and exhaustion that comes with it now lie heavy in your bones. Your eyes cannot take it anymore. But they still want to see that figure which now takes the liberty to walk out of the shadows underneath the clear light of the nearest moon. Your body is ready to fall but the creature provides some support to your lifeless limbs. Its fur feels so good on your cheeks. And that pale face coming to a stop in front of you feels almost angelic. Those green eyes are looking at you with both concern and judgment but what your brain registers first is the moonlight falling on those otherworldly cheekbones framed with clean braids. You want to keep looking at that face for a few more minutes. But there is only so much your wounded body can take before everything is a blur. . You have already hit deep slumber when the God comes to stand before you. He gets down on his knees to get a close look at your face buried in the hound's face.  "What do you think she's doing here, Agni?" Agni huffs and shifts enough to let the God have a better look at the face marred with wounds and bruises. A face that still looks so serene after putting up such a fight. The long pale fingers move those few strands of hair away that are blocking your features under the light of the moons. Calculations have already been done in that mind. What's left is to figure out whether to leave you here in the depth of the endless garden or... "Agni-" that voice commands with zero emotions, still studying your features- "call out for help. We are taking this one back to the camp."

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 1

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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Stories end one day once they begin. With that in mind, one might deem clinging to themselves, to other people or to anything else in the world as a little foolish. Same for how fiercely their heart was burning. Or how it cried for these things. It would all disappear like a dream eventually. One could think that even just putting in some effort was meaningless. Yet it had started.

Born through some sort of cue, anyone would breathe. Open their eyes. Learn to let out their voice. Figure how to walk. Come to understand what love was. Receive affection. Find out that it was a sickness, and either stop or give continuity to it. Nobody was taught how to cure it. There were also those who never even once accepted it from anyone.

Whatever the case, no one was allowed to stop for as long as they were part of this story, of this world. While living, people would be continuously be involved with death. But if morning came, night would also follow. Hunger would abate and sleep would invite one to the floor. Even after losing love, people craved for it. With its eyes cast down to forfeit, the world gradually emitted a new shine. Manifestation of beauty and hideous collapses were in progress at the same time. There was no eternity, but things went on. The story would continue. The world would go round. Even if it would meet its end one day.

Even without you there, morning would come.

   Blue eyes opened.

Purple flower petals fluttered gently in front of her eyes and passed her. They touched her as if to cause tickles, and then disappeared. The illusions of the past that had been surfacing dissipated slowly.

Her wild beast self and her named self. All of the past dissolved into reality, dragged back into the present. Here, there was neither a beast nor the man that it used to call “Major”.

The boat lethargically moved through a large river, an Auto-Memories Doll on it. The rowing of the boater, who wore a big hat, was quite something. For it to cause a chance meeting between her and her past, that had to be a good boater.

The girl, Violet – Violet Evergarden – was looking for someone.

Whenever she opened her eyes, she would wind up doing it. Looking for the person who had given her as much as he could give and then vanished. Looking for the person that she had hurt as much as she could hurt and not managed to protect.

Of course, he was nowhere in sight. There was no way he would be in such a place. She knew it. However, she would end up searching. Her most beloved lord had supposedly died long ago, yet she would find herself searching for him. Even an apparition would do; she only wanted to see him at least one more time.

The world he was gone from had livened up anew and its colors were vibrant. Violet had to live in said world. She had to live in this fresh hell. She could no longer receive orders. Neither could she chase after his back. There were limits to what she could do.

It was easy for people to tell her to move on. However, that was a great difficulty for her. Violet had been told to live. Just as ordered, without attempting to die, she was living while burdened with this difficulty.

“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”

At that time, Violet was still not a full-fledged human.

   The Rose and the Auto-Memories Doll

   “Wait,” I prayed.

The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.

——Wait for me.

It was hard to breathe. Flowers from the jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision. Their beauty erased everything that could be seen. Yet they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.

——Please, wait for me.

Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration.

I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.

——Wait.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that I wanted her to take me away from here.

“Violet, wait.”

That was all.

——So please, wait up; don’t leave me behind.

   It was spring. When it came to the four seasons, spring was surely the best one.

I first met her at a time when lilac blossoms were in bloom. Lightly, nimbly, they fluttered down. It was a season where purple flower petals danced in the sky. Spring. A season of sprouting.

What color came to people’s minds when they talked about spring, I wondered. It was probably a different one depending on where each of them lived. Pink cheery blossoms were scattered around higher lands. I had heard that bougainvillea flowers dyed a certain region in pure white. Apparently, the sight of green stems stretching out from within the snow thaw was the face of spring in some places. As for me, when the topic was spring, it had to be jacaranda trees.

The Jacaranda River was located among the mountains of the d’Arthur Region at southwest of the continent. It was a large river surrounded by steep mountains that rose like giants. Bearing the same name, jacaranda trees were planted along said river as if to enclose it, and during the flowering seasons, the color of the water surface would turn violet.

Ordinary trees had their branches, fruits and leaves pointed downward, but jacaranda flowers grew pointing upward, almost like a hand holding a bouquet. Just one of those flowering trees was already a feast to the eyes, so it was simply magnificent when there were many of them together. The sky was blue; the earth was a cloud of purple. Even God would easily let out a sigh when looking down at this scene from the heavens.

There were countless small communities in the vicinities of the Jacaranda River, and in order to go from the outside to a piece of land that had a settlement on it, one basically had to move by boat. Hence why it was so easy for the people who lived in this neighborhood to become sailors as a job. The pay, in contrast, was not so rewarding, but not to the point of making anyone go hungry. People coming from other places would gather into crowds to see the jacaranda trees during springtime and there was demand from the locals even outside of the busy seasons. So I would continue on my job here forever and never lose it.

In this world, inside this little story of mine, I had an encounter with her.

“Excuse me; I heard that there is a village beyond this point. Is it possible to cross the river?”

A foreign object appeared in that tiny world of mine.

“Hello. Yes, I go there often. This is how much it costs and the payment is in advance.”

Her name would eventually roar throughout the business, but at this time, she was a ghostwriter girl who had barely started to travel the world.

“I do not mind. It will be my pleasure.”

“We usually put the names of the customers on an account book. May I have your name?”

That was how she and I met.

“It is Violet Evergarden.”

To be honest, she was the kind of person who could cause people’s time to stop in fascination for a brief moment. This ferry port was crowded in spring. There were many other people around, so of course, I could spot several beautiful men and women who showed up for sightseeing, but she was unlike any of them. No matter what background was behind her, she would only be a strange object in it. Be it rainy or sunny days, winter or spring days. Regardless of whatever the world was clad in, one would find their eyes going towards her. Beauty was not the only reason for it. Her scent was different from that of other living things.

——It’s similar to the feeling I got... when seeing a deer in the mountains for the first time.

Right, a wild beast. She was like a beautiful wild beast. If such a stunning beast appeared in front of anyone’s eyes all of a sudden, they would surely stare fixatedly at it. This one had blue eyes and its mane was golden.

“Please treat me well.”

“Ah, yes.”

Her voice was clear, her gestures elegant.

“Is there anything wrong with my appearance?”

“No, no; not at all. Nothing at all.”

She was full of mysteries that other people would not be allowed to touch so easily.

Her outfit might also be at fault. She was well-dressed in a way that one wouldn’t see around this area. A Prussian-blue jacket, a white ribbon-tie dress and cocoa-brown boots that could be deemed as brand-new. An emerald brooch shone radiantly over the ribbon tie. I had but one toy similar to her when I was a child. That young woman was literally just like a doll. On top of it, even the name I asked for matched her lovely looks, to the point I felt like humming without thinking.

“Ms. ‘Violet Evergarden’. All... right. Now, if you please.”

It was a good name. Like an actor’s. I had never watched a play or anything of the sort, though.

“Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”

Once the name was written down and the fare was received, my work began.

The customers would be hesitant when getting on the boat regardless of whether they were men or women, but Violet differed from them. She got on it without a sound, quickly sat down and postured herself in waiting for me to start rowing.

Whatever thoughts she was engrossed in, she quietly closed her eyes after taking a glance at the scattering jacaranda flowers. It was a day of warm sunlight and pleasant wind, so she might have become sleepy. The comfortable silence continued for a while. I thought about leaving her alone, but perhaps because the petals that rode on the wind and flew about had tickled her cheeks, she opened her blue eyes. The scenery of earlier was not supposed to be any different, yet she looked left and right as if searching for someone.

“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”

As I asked so, Violet moved her neck with a twitch like a small animal and looked my way. After a short moment, the answer came in a low voice with an “it is nothing”. She seemed a bit dispirited.

She looked like an uncommunicative person, so I did think she might not go along with a boater’s talk, but wanting a change in mood, I kept on speaking, “Miss, you are in luck. Now is the best time to view them. The jacarandas.”

“Is that so?”

She was kind of a weird girl. Her manner of speech was weak in emotion.

“For me, this is the time to make money. When this period passes, people stop coming to this remote region. This is my main occupation, but many people do boat rowing as a side-job too. When spring is over, they do farming. Miss... it does not seem that you are here for sightseeing. Is it for work?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a job related to boats?”

“No.”

“My, wrong guess. You don’t get scared of the swaying, so I thought you were used to it.”

“Is that how it looks?”

After we spoke that much, Violet finally stopped searching and moved her gaze towards me.

“You do. It feels like you have no fears.”

Silence drifted about. Rather than ignoring me, she seemed to be having difficulty choosing her words.

Until this mysterious beauty spoke up, I was smoothly cutting the surface of the water with the oar. Maybe due to her baggage being heavy, the propelling was slower than I had predicted. She was a slim young woman no matter how I looked at her, so her luggage was probably the one to blame for the rowing’s bad flow. Come to think of it, a low screeching sound ensued whenever she moved. She might have some sort of manufactured item on her.

“You are right. I have been with the navy before, so...”

Oops, the conversation was back.

“Is your family from the military?”

“No, just me. My military service record was ultimately the army. But before the army... the person that I served was a navy officer.”

The reply was covered in enigmas. Her profile was cold. The way she talked was perfectly fitting of a mysterious beauty.

I thought this strange client was a little scary, but let out my curiosity just a bit more. I had never gone outside of these lands, so I loved chatting with the customers.

“I can’t believe it. To think that someone like you used to be a soldier...”

She had no idea what the description “like you” represented. This impression showed through just slightly in her facial expression.

I rode with many people, so I sort of had my own theories about them. I felt like students from renowned schools would make this into a laughingstock if I were to call it a “philosophy”, but... people communicated the actual state of their emotions through the blinking of their eyes, the way they opened their mouths, the highs and lows of their voices and other such things.

They were extremely scarce in this girl, but I could perceive them. Seriously. I was an expert at “observing” others.

“Do you get troubled when people coax you or something like that?”

As I asked out of curiosity, Violet once again had a question mark over her face, but after a while, she blinked as if to say, “I have arrived to an answer for the inquiry” and gave me an unexpected reply. “In my travels, I am sometimes invited by people to become their bodyguard after saving them. I am an Auto-Memories Doll, so I decline them politely,” she said.

I was asking in a romantic sense, so that could not be considered an answer to my question.

What a strange doll. What an odd girl.

——My life would be wonderful if I were born with these looks.

On first meetings, one’s eyes would go to people’s physical appearance first and foremost. Everyone had a preferred type of face, right? I accidentally ended up comparing hers to mine.

Perhaps as I was always wearing a big straw hat so that my skin wouldn’t be damaged by sunburns, my hair was squashed. Even if I took off the hat, the platinum-blond color could get me mistaken for a grizzly old man. Other girls of the same age as me sparkled so much, and yet, just what was I? Being in the same space as them was embarrassing... No, let’s leave what the eyes could see aside. I should serve the customer; serve the customer.

“Beautiful here, isn’t it? These are jacaranda flowers.”

“‘Jacaranda’...”

“Ah, they sell fruits on that boat over there. Want to buy any?”

“No.”

“Do I talk too much? Ah, look! That bird is very rare. Can you tell it has the color of emeralds? It’s called ‘gemstone bird’. The feathers they drop are my treasures.”

“It is beautiful.”

“I think so too! I might get along well with you. What do you usually do to pass the time?”

During my and Violet’s short boat-riding trip, she told me the following:

She worked for a certain postal company from a military nation in the far south named Leidenschaftlich.

She was a newbie Auto-Memories Doll there.

Through her current commission, it was her first time coming to these lands.

Before arriving here, she drove two groups of bandits away.

She was told by her boss to bring him local specialties of this area as souvenir.

That was it. She had many stories about her boss.

“So the president and employees are close in your company, huh.”

“Is that so... No, you are right. Our company has just barely been built and there are few employees. If the number of unit members is small, the distance between them and the commander naturally grows shorter. Yes, to someone like me, whose origins are unknown, he is a compassionate person.”

“You don’t have to talk like that about yourself...”

“It is true. I am an orphan and do not know where I was born.”

I added “orphan” to the information about Violet that I had inside me. The things that had happened to this person dictated the air about her, I thought. Was that the reason why she seemed somewhat lonely?

“But now I have people who look after me.”

“Your boss.”

“Yes. And a kind elderly couple as well.”

“Aah, good for you. Being alone is sad. If you have someone to be with, that’s better. So you used to be in the military but you’re not a soldier anymore now that the war ended. You got yourself a new job and family, is what you’re saying.”

“Yes.”

“You’re sailing smoothly!”

“No.”

Even though I expressly tried to conclude it with good vibes, it was denied.

“I have many problems.” There was a slight creasing between Violet’s eyebrows. “I don’t yet know if I have the aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll... I was given a lady’s education and I have studied languages and other such things, but it is hard to say whether or not I can make effective use of that. I have retained the fighting power... but I am in a state where I do not know how to use it.” The tone of her voice faded a little at the end.

“How are you working like that now?” I asked purely out of concern. After all, she was an Auto-Memories Doll.

I came across all sorts of clients, but she was my first Auto-Memories Doll one. It was a job in which people used ghostwriting as their weapon and rushed around the world. I heard there were many women in that occupation, but I never thought a girl as old as me would be doing it. She could very well be writing for a princess from some other country while I was here, rowing a boat.

“Letters have standard sentences. In most cases, if we add the desired content to those standard sentences that we have memorized, they will take form.”

“Hm, hm, I see.”

“However, it cannot be said that letter you wished to write so much to the point of requesting an Auto-Memories Doll was achieved with this. If we cannot correspond to the expectations, we are failures as tools. Therefore, we are once entrusted with the request’s contents, suggest a few types of details, choose the best ones and accept additional demands, should there be any... then repeat. There are also times when my abilities are not enough...”

“You mean contents you can’t write?”

“Any sort of letter can be shaped to a certain extent as long as there is time. It is a combination, after all. However, I am not well-versed in the art of conversation that entertains people. I am told that I am ‘boring’ or ‘unfriendly’ and am often dismissed by the clients.”

She somewhat convinced me. I was terribly sorry for that. But it might indeed be difficult for someone to feel like composing a letter in a fun way with her. If they were hiring her for serious contents, that was a different story.

“Moreover, we normally have to understand the circumstances that our clients are in... Let’s see; it is similar to, for example, approaching someone who is injured. I am supposed to write such letters, but I do not yet understand what a good letter is. It is hard for me to say that I can manage it... In the end, I do not know if I have aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I am always asking myself whether or not it is all right for me to work in these conditions.”

Perhaps due to thinking a tad too hard, Violet said something incomprehensible – that “it would be much more efficient if our company’s president became an Auto-Memories Doll”. Wasn’t a president supposed to take care of the management?

But, surely... for Violet to be saying something like that about him, he had to be the kind of person who excelled at being considerate.

With the flow of the conversation, I tried asking what I was most interested in, “W-What do you do about love letters and the like?”

“Love letters?”

“Yes.”

It was a field of great concern for someone who had never had any sort of relation with it since birth.

“That is also a combination. You throw in verses from famous poems or songs... Classic romance novels are valuable reference materials as have quite a lot of rhetoric.”

As I received an answer much more direct than I had imagined, almost like boiled vegetables with no taste but their own, my shoulders dropped. I had expected her to reply that she used her own love experiences as reference, but Violet was an extremely serious bookworm. I was a bit ashamed of myself.

I then started the conversation over, “Must be hard that your first job is kind of all about stuff you’re not good at.”

As I said so, Violet dropped her gaze and spoke, “No, we have a bright female Auto-Memories Doll who is the complete opposite of me, so she is put in charge of cases like the ones I just mentioned. In contrast, a large number of transcription cases that are not letters but instead invoices and contract documents, or that require fast writing, come to me. Describing exactly what I see is my field of expertise.”

“I see; it’s a matter of having the right person in the right place. Your boss’s administration is good. So you’ve been managing it one way or another until now.”

“Yes. But this is my first business trip for ghostwriting.”

“F-First!” I accidentally let out a loud voice.

“Yes, my first.”

This girl was on her first ghostwriting business trip. I was sending her on a boat for that. It somewhat felt like I was involved with an awfully grandiose story, which made my heart race.

“Gets you nervous, doesn’t it?” I sought for agreement, but the one feeling nervous was me. “Will you be okay?”

But Violet did not seem to be okay.

“On ghostwriting business trips, the task is to finish it on the spot, and you must respond immediately. I cannot use the means that I have been using until now, such as taking time to write or securing time by cutting sleep and eating short.”

That may have been the reason for her aspect of weariness. Still, I was shocked. When we, boaters, did not want to take our boats out, we would refuse rides even if there were clients. It was a job where we had to have customers, but we decided the discretion on our own. I did not let the ones with a bad attitude on my boat ever again even if they asked. Above all, not eating was impossible. No one could row a boat if they were hungry or sleepy.

“You have to eat... Isn’t that the most important? And you have to sleep too!”

“The most important is accomplishing my missions.”

I could somewhat understand why this girl’s boss was so concerned about her. Since she was an ex-soldier, she was unable to get used to a peaceful life, and the job she had earned required a variety of emotions that did not fit her, so she was competing with knowledge and effort to make up for it. Talk about dangerous.

“But taking care of your health is also part of work.”

Violet cast down her golden eyelashes. What I said probably made her think.

“As I thought, I was better off as a soldier,” she whispered this bit by bit, out of the blue. As she caressed her emerald brooch, she fixed on it a stare that seemed to be burning.

“How come?”

“When I was in the military... all I had to do was chase after one person and protect him. I was always searching for an adult to follow.”

How was I supposed to describe this girl?

“I found myself the best master of all and used to live my life serving him.”

Rather than sincere, she was too candid. Almost like, yes, a child who knew nothing.

“It would have been great if it were like that forever.”

That was why, most likely...

“So he was someone important to you.”

...she honestly thought as much.

“More than anything.”

Her words probably held no lies.

“That’s good.”

She truly was currently apart from someone important to her and losing heart.

“But the war ended and everything changed. Things are different now. I have been separated from my master, and I must journey around the world all by myself with words and pens as my weapons.”

My country was a prosperous land that had not involved itself with the Continental War. Ever since I was born, I had never once enlisted. I had nothing to respond to her statements. That even though I had nosily asked so many questions – what a person I was.

“Erm... hum, can I say something?”

I wanted to cheer her up. But I had no idea how.

As I faltered, Violet shook her head. “I am sorry...”

She started apologizing for some reason, making me even more confused.

“I spoke too much. Forgive me for... tainting your ears.”

“Why? You didn’t do that at all.”

“I am told not to talk in too much detail about my history.”

“I-Isn’t it okay, though?”

“I must do as told.”

“But—”

“My deepest apologies. I said things that could disrupt you while you are in the middle of work.”

“B-But—”

“My deepest apologies.”

“Isn’t it okay?! You and I are just a customer and boater who can’t see each other anywhere but here!” again, I spoke loudly on accident.

I became a bit flustered. After all, she was apologizing. Even though she was just answering my insistent questions. Even though she was burdened with so much that she wound up unintentionally spilling it to a stranger like me.

“After you get out of this boat, we have no way of knowing what will happen to each other. So please never mind it.”

It was because I asked so persistently that the things she had been holding overflowed.

“It’s all good.”

There was something I could say exactly because I was a boater of a remote region.

“It’s all right,” I affirmed strongly, wanting to do something about those wavering eyes and her aspect of uncertainty. I might have been huffing fiercely too.

Violet looked at me with a gaze that looked like she had just woken up from a dream. And then she nodded with a meek face. “Yes.” Even though she had just nodded once, after a few tens of seconds later, she nodded again while saying, “Yes.”

After that, we eventually reached the shore without talking much.

From what I had heard, Violet’s patron was Mr. Lockhart, an elderly man famous for being rich even within his community. He was already quite old, so it was said that he did not have long.

“You go straight down the road. You should be able to see the village after a while, and Mr. Lockhart’s mansion is the one on highest ground. It has a white roof. The neighbor houses are all extravagant too, so don’t mistake it.”

“All right.”

“On the way back! If you also feel like going back together, look for me!”

“Yes, Mr. Valentine.”

   Perhaps because I had asked for it, Violet actually did look for and called out to me as her ride for the way back. Maybe as I had listened to her life story, it kind of did not feel like we were strangers anymore.

After I intimidated and dispersed the other boatmen trying to take her as their customer, I asked, “How was the job? Did it go well?”

“I do not know.”

Silence.

“At first, he yelled at me, then crumpled the letters I wrote into balls one after another and tossed them away.”

“That’s horrible.”

“But once I presented improvement suggestions twenty-three times, he said he had ‘been defeated by my persistence’ and accepted the ghostwriting.”

“Ms. Violet, you actually have a strong competitive spirit, don’t you?”

Later on, according to what I had heard from people of his neighborhood, Mr. Lockhart was a mean geezer who, apparently high-strung from fighting against a disease, would hire people in order to bully them into quitting. My goodness. He was the type of person whom I would not want to associate myself with even once, so I guessed the fact that Violet would not have to deal with him anymore after just this one time was a blessing in disguise.

However, a few months thereafter...

   “I will be ghostwriting a letter to Mr. Lockhart’s grandchild for a few months.”

...she showed up again holding a travel bag in one hand and reunited with me. Our interactions continued from that point onward.

I did not know what to name my involvement with Violet. We were not friends. We only ever met due to occupational matters and I never saw Violet other than when she came over for work.

“How did things go after that? Is business going well? We’re in the off season now, so I’m pretty free.”

“It seems that people of the postal industry are seeking not to take work away from those of the same line of business. We, Auto-Memories Dolls, usually receive work from the area surrounding our companies, but the number of business trips is increasing. However, it is hard to say if we are on track. Our president looks over his account book every day.”

As we were both from the hospitality businesses, we had worries in common. So I was also happy.

“My wallet gets really empty in the off season too. Well, I can live just fine with the amount I save up in spring... but I have to find a different job when I want something pricey.”

“A different job. Mr. Valentine, for how many years have you been a boater?”

I reminded myself of my ordinary life’s number of years and work history inside my head.

“Erm, I’ve been rowing for two years. But before that, I was something like a handyman, working in an orchard, taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen.”

“That is a wide variety.”

“My family’s poor. Dad and Mom are gambling addicts too... We’re so poor that we can’t survive without all of us working. I was eight when they told me I had to get a job because our finances weren’t going well.”

“That is commendable for someone so young.”

“No, Ms. Violet, you’re probably as old as me, right? Eh, how old are you?”

   Perhaps she and I really did have a karmic connection, as I was always working whenever she came to these lands.

“Ms. Violet! If it isn’t Ms. Violet...!”

“Mr. Valentine. I was looking for you.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes. You told me to ask for you the first time we rode. I did this last time as well. Will you take out your boat today?”

“Of course! C-Can I ask again? You were looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so happy! Same for me! I wonder every day if you’re coming anytime soon... Now, now, customer! Please get onto the boat! Go ahead, go ahead. I have tons of things I want to tell you! I see~! So you were looking for me~!”

“Yes, I was.”

   The air about her was like that of a tensely stretched thread, yet as time went by, she became able to show different facial expressions.

“You can’t smile?”

“No. I cannot say I have complaints about it, but... I receive such opinions from the clients quite frequently. For now, I am making physical attempts on it. Mr. Lockhart often lifts my cheeks. He tells me to practice. Yet... it does not work very well.”

“That old man is teaching you weird stuff... It’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone pick their cheeks up to form a smile.”

“Mr. Valentine... you excel at smiling. Do you have any trick for it?”

“Eh~, I’m just being carefree.”

“That is difficult for me.”

“Hm~, but that’s a secret of success.”

“‘Secret of success’...”

“This place is a dock, after all. For a kid like me to be working among men, I at least have to be good at acting friendly, or else I can’t survive.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. That’s why this is something I’ve ingrained in me. Ms. Violet, you’re an ex-soldier, aren’t you? You couldn’t be carefree in the battlefield, so there is no helping that, right?”

“But... that has nothing to do with my clients.”

“Hm~, trying to be better is never too much, but from my standpoint as someone who is also in the hospitality business, I don’t think that is completely indispensable. We give the clients what they seek and they pay the fee. It is essentially this kind of equal relationship. You do not have to abase yourself more than necessary. Customers naturally come to people that do a fine job even if they are unsociable.”

“Is that so...?”

“It is. Someone who instead is friendly but can’t do the job at all is a problem. The fact that you became Mr. Lockhart’s purveyor means you write good letters. It seems he is very particular about his own matters. Y’know, you’re fit for people like that.”

“If so, that is good.”

“Don’t make that face. Shall I lift your cheeks?”

   The things we had to talk about with each other whenever we met increased exactly because we were far apart from one another.

“Speaking of which, you are looking for someone, right? Did you find any clues?”

Our respective circumstances slipped in and out of sight.

“No...”

“But Auto-Memories Dolls have to go to all sorts of places, so there is still hope.”

“Yes. I also think that is the good point of being an Auto-Memories Doll.”

“That so...? Ms. Violet, did you choose to be an Auto-Memories Doll to search for someone?”

“No, perhaps I should say it is wishful thinking. I do not truly believe that I can find him. However...”

By that time, I had realized what the brooch was.

“...I can keep on living while thinking ‘what if’. That is the kind of job it is.”

That it was something related to the important person she had mentioned.

“Is that so...?” while speaking with a laidback voice, I incidentally thought about what that would be in my case.

What was I attached to enough that I would be this obsessed over it?

“You’re the opposite of me. I’m waiting for my family here.”

——If I do have any of that, it’d be the boat my dad used to ride.

“Do you live far away from each other?”

——The house that we all lived in together.

“Huuum... How should I put it? I was sent out to a different town for domestic service when I was eight... and I was completely convinced that my parents and older brother were living here.”

None of what I was attached to was things that could remain in my grasp. It was this land itself.

“When I came back, there was only our house. My family wasn’t in it.”

It was not something I could walk around with.

“They might’ve moved somewhere else... because they hated life here.”

Violet did not frown or make a puzzled face. She just quietly lent me an ear.

“I ran away from the place where I was doing domestic service, so I guess I missed their notice. I think they are troubled now. That they are looking for me. I also want them to come pick me up, but they never do...”

I myself understood. I knew I was saying odd stuff. Weird, wasn’t it? I was aware. If she called me crazy, it would be just the expected.

“Mr. Valentine, should you not be looking for them?”

That question gouged out just a little bit of the weakest part of my heart. Yes, just a little. It pierced me exactly because the person who asked it had stood up from her suffering and was running onward.

“If I leave this place, it’d be a problem...”

But Violet did not say I was wrong at all.

“It be a problem if, by any chance, my brother – no, either Dad or Mom decided to come back...”

She merely whispered a single sentence: “understood”.

   Before I realized, I had started looking for her at the dock.

——Is she coming today? Not yet? She might come tomorrow.

   “It’s been a while...! Has anything changed? We got to meet again because Mr. Lockhart is still alive, huh.”

“It has. Just that the personnel at my workplace increased again. Mr. Lockhart’s voice is so lively when he is angry that one would not imagine he has a disease. Mr. Valentine, what about you...?”

“Y’see, I’ve been going to study lately! I was influenced by you. I can read easy words, but I never went to school, so I’m bad at writing.”

“I could not write either. However, it should be all right as long as you practice.”

“I don’t have enough paper to practice writing, so I’ve been writing on the ground with a stick these days.”

“If you wish, please use these.”

“Eh, what are those? T-They look expensive. I can’t.”

“I also received paper and pens from someone just like this and began my studies. You can.”

“N-No can do! I can’t get something like that from my customer...!”

“You can.”

   As the seasons passed, as the days and months went by, her aspect of anxiousness from when we first met diminished. She steadily built up a record of accomplishments as an Auto-Memories Doll.

“That umbrella is cute. It looks good with your clothes.”

“It is a gift. I also... find it adorable.”

“Is that a passionate request for a relationship from your client?”

“No, that is not it. This is a display of gratitude for my work from Mr. Oscar, the novelist...”

Much faster than I had imagined, yet surely, she was elegantly climbing up that brilliant stairway.

“Heeh, a novelist. I don’t know much about him, but that’s amazing. You might be working at some royal palace one of these days!”

“I have.”

“Eh?”

“I have. I wrote love letters on behalf of a princess from a country named Drossel.”

   She became someone well-known around the neighborhood in no time.

How should I describe her vigor? Was “forceful enough to knock down birds in flight” too weird? She was an irresistible force that people were drawn to en masse. Somehow or other, she made a great leap in a blink of life.

Her popularity attracted more popularity, and it was amazing that her work had developed so much. There were such people at the dock too, but this could not be achieved without effort. But it did not look like there were ambitions or dreams to Violet’s efforts. Dream chasers had different eyes than ordinary people. She... her blue eyes were as quiet as a midwinter sea no matter in what season I peeked into them.

Her gaze made it seem like she was looking at me from a different world. As if she were staring up at everything from the bottom of the ocean. Yes, it was that kind of look.

She was there, yet was not. Her blue eyes were mirrors that made me feel like I was looking at myself before realizing it, when I was supposed to be looking at her. She herself was also this sort of person, with an attitude as if her mind was elsewhere.

Her fame... if I were to use a metaphor, she was a broken doll who got praised as a result of single-mindedly working on repeat. That was how it seemed in my eyes. Awful way of saying it, huh? But the Violet Evergarden I had first met had been hurt. She was just a hurt girl.

So I was honestly surprised. Because, at first, she didn’t look at all like a girl who would rush up into Auto-Memories Doll stardom from that point. Yes, she did not.

That might be due to the way we met. If I had met the current Violet instead, I would surely have thought, “Such a full-fledged Auto-Memories Doll”. But although she was indeed an eccentric girl, she did not look like that to me. To me... To me, she looked like nothing but a girl from the same generation as myself, stagnated in a world that she was tossed into. An uneasy girl, who had just started working. The type that definitely could be found anywhere all around the world.

One that was also similar to me. From that day, at that time.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro, where are you?”

She was like me back when I was at a loss as I decided to live by myself.

With the passing years, Violet Evergarden had bloomed to the world into a marvelous lady before I even knew. Just as her name suggested, she was a girl who had blossomed beautifully.

No matter what, I ended up comparing her with myself... Even though we were reuniting after a long while, even though I was happy, I felt too sad for some reason and wound up saying lots of lame things.

“Ms. Violet... you kind of became an unreachable person all of a sudden, huh.”

It was because, even though I had supposedly lived just like her in the same four seasons and the same time that she had rushed through, I was still an insignificant boater.

“My company is still based in Leidenschaftlich, just as before.”

“No, I wasn’t talking in terms of physical distance. It’s... a spiritual thing.”

Silence.

“You really are admirable. You know, when I think that you’re doing such an amazing job while I’m here, boating without a care in the world... it’s like...”

“Mr. Valentine, you are also working every day.”

“It’s not like boating is a bad job or anything.”

I also didn’t think there was high or low when it came to occupations. Yet I would end up comparing them.

“I quite enjoy it. Rowing the boat, that is. But somehow... like... when I look at you, Ms. Violet... I think of myself. I wonder if I’m okay like this. Because surely, there should be something else I want to do.”

Silence.

“If only I could change myself too...”

“Mr. Valentine.”

“Yes?”

“I felt that we have become closer than back when we first met.”

“Eh?”

I was in shock. Because I thought she wasn’t the kind of person to say something like that.

What did people call this?

“It became a habit for me to look for you immediately around here.”

Those words that were almost as if someone was nestling close to you.

“As you have let me on countless times, you have been recorded within me.”

No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that she didn’t say those things – she couldn’t say them. After all, Violet had told me when we first met. That she couldn’t write letters that felt like approaching someone who was injured.

“I see.”

She had been worried that she should leave it to someone else; that she wasn’t qualified.

“Have we become far apart?”

Yet she had become able to do it. By practicing a lot. Involving herself with people.

“Mr. Valentine, you always find me as well. Whenever I arrive here, instantly.”

This girl had become able to do what she was worst at.

“Yep.”

But even now, it didn’t change that she would touch her emerald brooch when she was uncertain.

“Have we...”

“We haven’t...! Sorry. I’m sure I could spot you even if we passed each other in a different city... Sorry, it’s just... wrong. I was wrong...”

Violet had grown up.

“Sorry...”

That day, when we first met, she had been fretting about being able to write letters that could draw close to someone. Having nurtured her heart through many people and a lot of time, she was now even able to say these kinds of things. This girl was properly fighting against the fate that she had been granted.

Aah, I wanted to be like Violet Evergarden.

I wanted to be like this girl. I really did.

I was still young. I could start over anywhere else. But I did not do that. I couldn’t throw away my family. I couldn’t. Ever thought about throwing your family away?

I... I had never.

Because it was family. People I shared my blood with. We were supposed to be together, right? Parents protecting their children and children yearning for their parents – that was the norm, wasn’t it? When I looked around me, that was what people were doing. Was it all lies?

Why, why didn’t my family manage to be normal? Why was normal so difficult for me? Because I was stupid?

I had gone to a stranger’s place when I was eight years old because my parents had told me to. I went with them as my parents said, “Go with this person to help them out; you’ll get payment for it”. I had the feeling that my parents had been smiling. My brother was the only one who had a serious look – no, he was making a face like he was about to cry as he pulled the sleeve of my clothes over and over. He used to be such a scary brother who was quick to hit me on the head and scold me, but only at that time did he exhaust himself from crying.

“You can’t, okay? Listen to what your Big Bro says. You can’t go to that place,” he had told me.

I remember being extremely perplexed. I only had the impression that my brother was always angry and hungry. He never behaved like he cherished me or anything of the sort. Honestly, I used to hate him.

“But they’ll be angry if I don’t do as they say.”

So I had shaken off the hands that were grasping my sleeve. The expression my brother had back then – those eyes looked like everything in front of him had transformed into rubble.

My brother had said one last time with a tearful voice, “Hey, you can’t; please... don’t go. I won’t hit you anymore, ‘kay? ‘Kay?”

Even so, I had not agreed. Because I was afraid that my parents would get mad.

I hadn’t seen my brother since. Thinking back on it now, he might have actually had affection for me.

As for my parents, had that been something they couldn’t avoid? I still didn’t know. But to put it bluntly, they had sold me.

It was not something so unusual. This area was remote, rural and still rooted in such customs. That might still be my case even now. I was living in a land I had once left, disguised so that no one would know it was me. It would be terrible if I were sold by someone again. So I had made myself up. An unknown boy who had showed up out of nowhere. An outsider who had arrived before anyone knew it. That was me.

I was a huge moron who couldn’t throw away her family even though they had thrown me away.

I ran away from the place I had been sold to after not even three days and, starting out as a beggar, I had saved up a sum in order to go back home. I did anything, from working at an orchard to taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen. Anything, as long as I could earn money.

I had been sold off to a pretty far-away place, so it took me a year to come back. I was making merry when returned home. About things being back to how they were before. About how my life had twisted a bit but it was back to how it used to be. My mother would surely be happy. She’d tell me I did a good job coming back home.

So, that was why... I even now vividly remembered the feeling of astonishment I had when I opened the door and the house was deserted.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro,” I had whispered intermittently into the empty house.

There was no reply.

——Aah, so homes that people no longer live in also die, I thought.

I was the child from that day even now, standing stock-still.

   “The hijacking case of the transcontinental train... The one on this picture looks like that girl, but she isn’t, right?”

While reading the newspaper that the customers had left behind as usual, I was relaxing at the dock.

The seasons had passed once again and autumn was about to end. Although the years were growing farther from the spring in which I had first met Violet, yet not a single thing had changed.

“Excuse me, are you doing boat rides?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”

Today, too, I was rowing a boat. That was all.

I would just wake up in the morning, eat, get the boat out, let the customers onto it, do my job, go back home and sleep. A repetition of that. Without anything special happening, without any wonderful encounters or opportunities, I was merely earning enough to eat and protecting my home. Sometimes, I would find myself thinking that I was the only one living this kind of daily life. I had been working since I was little, so I didn’t know how to play very well, and I had no one who was close to me other than Violet.

Even though Violet wasn’t my friend.

“Mr. Boater. Is there anywhere around here where I can have a meal?”

“There is, once you get on land. It might be unlike anything that someone from the big city such as yourself would eat, though... Now, then, be careful.”

Right. Just as she had once said, our relationship was of a boater and her customer, and we would not meet unless she came here for ghostwriting. She was an amazing person who roamed all around the globe and lived in a world completely different from mine.

While returning to the former shore after sending off the customer, I was thinking to myself. Was my life okay like this? I was here today yet again, without attempting to go to where the person that I wanted to be close to was. Even if I used the entirety of the notebook that Violet had given me, I could not report this to her. Because I couldn’t leave my hometown.

   “Mr. Valentine. Hello; it has been a while.”

It was a very beautiful morning that day. Illuminated by the Sun as it emerged from the clouds, drops of the rain that had fallen on the previous night were emitting a transparent shine. The person who had appeared in that stunning world was still a foreign body.

Fall just before winter approached. Violet Evergarden was not wearing her usual doll outfit, instead dressed in black. Black hat, black cape over a black dress, and while the suitcase, umbrella and emerald brooch were the same as ever, everything was pitch-black other than them. She was a black-clad Auto-Memories Doll.

As the wind blew, her clothes seemed to flutter in an unnatural manner on her left arm. The arm was gone. Only one of her arms was missing. She had told me somewhere along the way that they were prosthetics, but when seeing her figure without one of them like this, I felt the loss of it even though it was unrelated to me.

“He-llo... Uh, what’s up with... hum, your arm, your clothes and all that?”

It was almost like that kind of thing.

“You came just a while ago, right? The intervals are really close...”

Almost like someone’s funeral. I had never been to one, but I had observed it from the outside before.

Apparently, my questions had her at loss for a bit. After showing a thinkative countenance as from where to start explaining, Violet put her baggage on the ground and pointed at her left arm with her right hand.

“My arm broke. It is being repaired.”

Her artificial doll-like gestures that I had grown fond of before I realized and her clear voice were now turning into the main causes that made my heart restless.

“I can use the right one without any issues. It is inconvenient, but this will be solved eventually.”

I asked the reason behind it and if she had been involved in some sort of accident. Violet did not tell me the details of her situation. She gave a rare, faint smile, looking troubled.

“In the meantime we had not seen each other, truly, many things happened... However, today is not about me but about someone else. I was told he was famous around here, but have you not heard? He has passed away.”

There was only one person whose funeral Violet would be coming to this land for, dressed in mourning clothes. Her ghostwriting patron, Mr. Lockhart. That old man who people said was going to die, yet had always stayed alive.

“I... I don’t have much interaction with the townspeople... We’ve had heavy rain the past few days... and when I pushed myself to get the boat out, I caught a cold... so I shut myself at home... and didn’t see any of my boatmen friends...”

I came up with reasons one after another as if to give an excuse. Even though I hadn’t done anything bad.

“It seems the funeral is already over. The people from that household contacted me, so I came in a hurry.”

“To visit his... grave?”

“That as well, but I also ghostwrote his will on his own request... and it seems there was a dispute among his relatives when the will was opened. They said they want me to confirm if there was really no mistake in the contents...”

I wondered what in the will had aroused the general criticism. Violet did not tell me, as she could not reveal the contents of her contractor’s letters, but when it came to problems that happened after a wealthy elder died, it had to be the inheritance.

“It simply means that the will is just like Mr. Lockhart. This is all I can say.”

So the mean geezer was mean until the end and then left.

“S-So, Ms. Violet, you’re about to get yourself involved in that big quarrel?”

“Yes.”

“Could it be it’s your last ride on this boat...?”

“Mr. Valentine, if you are still here by then, I shall go back with you as well.”

“I-I’ll be. I won’t take any other customers today and I’ll be waiting for you on the other side of the river!”

“I think I will take very long.”

“That’s okay... I mean—!”

——I won’t get to see you anymore, right?

There was a knot in my throat because of the sadness, so I could not say these words. But I believed they had reached Violet. She said “all right” after a pause.

And so, I sent Violet to the household’s side of the shore. As I had declared, I did not take on other customers, only waited for Violet.

She did say that a lot had happened to her, but if the essence of what she had experienced, which she could only express with that much, was enough for her to lose an arm, then surely there should still be a commotion around her right now. Poor Violet. Honestly, Mr. Lockhart was a client who gave Violet trouble from start to finish.

Still, if it weren’t for that troublesome client, Violet and I wouldn’t have met. We also wouldn’t have had that accumulation of interaction time as the seasons passed.

“You should’ve lived longer,” I whispered selfishly. My pathetic voice was mixed with whining.

I was a horrible person.

To think I would complain about the time that someone I didn’t even know so well should die. But now, my heart felt like it would break. My composure was gone. That was why my tongue was so nasty.

I did predict that we would become unable to see each other one day like this. I did, yet I had thought it would be a gentler end. More different, more...

Yes, one day. One day, just as I had suddenly become unable to see my parents and brother, Violet would stop coming here. But I couldn’t leave this place, so I would keep standing at the dock, thinking that there might be a day where she would come by.

From the viewpoint of other people, they may think this was sad, but to me, it was an ending that still had salvation and hope to it...

I hadn’t imagined that she herself would tell me this was probably the last time. Besides, to think that my chest would feel so tight just because I was no longer going to see a customer that I only saw every now and then.

I was an idiot.

Yes, I wasn’t good in the head. I was sensitive to the subtleties of other people’s emotions despite not bringing them to life in me. Yet I was insensitive when it came to myself, so I was only able to notice things when they started hurting like this.

“I-I...”

Surely, I was all on my own because I was this much of a fool.

“I’m gonna be alone...” the words overflowed from be in a natural manner.

——Be quiet. Don’t cry. It’s like the way you’d cry as a kid.

“Ugh... fu-uh...”

I was happy. That Violet had hired me and would come to ride on my boat.

“I don’t want that... Again... I’ll be...”

I was waiting here. For someone to remember me and come see me. For them to look for me. I was living by expecting nothing but that.

Same for Violet. She was someone from my generation, who had been tossed into the world all of a sudden. She wanted to search for her important person, for him to find her – she was that kind of girl. But she was doing her best to live. She really did her best, without losing to the unreasonableness of life.

As she grew, I saw her shining as an Auto-Memories Doll almost as if it were happening to a different version of myself. The fact she was doing her best was an encouragement. I thought of her as a comrade. Even though we weren’t friends, it felt like we were.

“Big Bro... when are you coming back...”

I was by myself here. So, before I noticed, my encounter with that girl had become salvation in my life. Because we were the same. Because we were both waiting for people who wouldn’t return.

It was okay even if it were just a few times per year. She had remembered and looked for me. To me, just that fact was, aah, so very...

   “I am terribly sorry for being so late.”

I had departed with the boat in the morning, and it was past evening when the black-clad Auto-Memories Doll came back. She did not seem tired, but her voice was on the husky side, so she probably had to talk a lot.

“Good job... How did it go?”

I wanted to make it so that she wouldn’t find out that I had been crying, yet my voice was nasal and clearly an after-cry one. Amidst the sunset, Violet looked straight at me.

“Everything is well. Mr. Valentine, are you all right?”

I did not know, so I fell silent.

——I’ll let you on the boat now. And then, it’ll be the end. You won’t come see me anymore. I don’t know if that’s okay, or if I’m okay with it.

“Give me your hand; come on carefully. This is the time when the sunset and the evening are mixed, after all.”

As if to gloss over it, I conducted myself as merely a professional. Violet’s sense of balance was a bit off, perhaps because she only had her right arm. I helped her until she was seated, and then started rowing.

“It is my first time seeing the landscape at this hour.”

I nodded at Violet’s muttering.

Evening at the Jacaranda River was a sight that looked like a scarlet Sun had jumped onto the water surface. Both the sky and the river would paint themselves red, dyed in darkness before one could take notice. The birds cried as if to announce that it was already time to go home, the boatmen pulling out of work and returning to their houses. It was that kind of hour, that kind of scene.

As winter was about to come around, the trees were bare and most of the fallen leaves over the water had even their colors rusting away as well. There was nothing more fitting of a farewell day than such loneliness.

“Mr. Valentine, thank you very much for being here for me until today.”

Violet’s voice sounded softer than usual. Come to think of it, I felt that the air around her had somewhat changed. I had thought it was because of the mourning attire, but looking at her again like this now, I figured that was not it. Would it be an exaggeration to say that it was as if an evil spirit had been removed from her? She was different from before.

“From the start, for now, for always... thank you very much.”

Yes, back then, when we first met, Violet Evergarden was a beautiful wild beast that had been tossed into the world. She was nervous, wary of everything, unstable and acted kind of cold.

“It might be strange of me to be saying this to someone I only ever see here. But to me, Mr. Valentine, the fact that you let me ride on your boat whenever I come by...”

Yet, within a long time, she had gained warmth and transformed from a beast-like girl into an exquisite young woman.

“I... surely, yes, was ‘happy’ about it. I can now finally say so. Even if it is something trivial for you. I... can only meet you here, so when you said that I could talk to you, I was ‘happy’.”

——It’s over.

The scenery was too solitary. My chest tightened at the words she spoke within it.

“I was definitely not suited to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I did not have the gentleness to speak my mind without thinking as you do. However, you affirmed that someone like me had her good points.”

——It’s really over.

“In a world full of denial, it is difficult to affirm anything.”

——This is the end.

“That is what I think. There is much denial in this world. Affirming is difficult. But you did it for me.”

——Please, don’t say any more of these goodbye-like words.

“Thank you very much.”

——Don’t.

“I have one more thing I want to tell you.”

——I don’t want to hear them anymore.

“Mr. Valentine, I found the person I was looking for.”

——Stop.

“I found him. I discovered that there are many people in the world who are looking for someone they can no longer see.”

——My time with you is going on as you speak.

“I was told by many that it was foolish of me to wait for him.”

——My time with you is melting away.

“However, I followed my heart, which I did not even know I had.”

——It’s melting away like the foam on the surface of the water.

“Mr. Valentine, I support you always waiting here for someone from here onwards as well. Even if, by any chance, you decide to stop waiting and venture out of here, I will support this too.”

——I liked this purity of yours, as if you’re reflecting the other person.

“I assert your kindness. Because you asserted mine.”

——By sustaining you, I was able to sustain myself.

I let out a scream. Yes, I was bawling. For me to be crying while rowing, I was disqualified as a boater. But Violet did not judge me.

After wiping my tears with the sleeves of my clothes several times, I began rowing again. I had only ever done anything while crying when I was a child.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro.”

The time when I went searching, calling each of them, in my hometown by the Jacaranda River felt like it had been just a few days ago.

“Violet, don’t forget me,” I said as I cried, looking like an idiot.

“Yes. Mr. Valentine, you said this would be the last time, but I will pay a visit if I receive any jobs to do nearby.”

“That’s a lie...! Countless of my customers have said that... but nobody... nobody... nobody cares about...”

“I support you. This is no lie.”

“It is... It’s just flattery... I-I was... happy that you never forgot about me... but you soon will...”

The boat arrived at the dock almost as if colliding with it. The impact caused the tears to fall from my eyes like rain.

“Sorry; just go.”

I crouched on top of the boat. Aah, I had to help Violet get down. Night was coming. I should not be stalling in a place like this.

I was just a boater and this girl was just my customer. We would end here. It was over.

“I learned that having someone to accept you is important.”

I had to wipe my tears and see her off.

“Even if you cannot see them all the time. Mr. Valentine, if I was a bother to you, please know this.”

I felt the sensation of the only arm that Violet now had touching my back. I turned away from it.

We had met each other in this severe world. A world that I hated. I also hated my life.

But, aah, my God. Even when such cruel sorrow attacked me like that...

“There is an Auto-Memories Doll somewhere in the world who accepts you. Please be aware of this.”

——...the world is beautiful.

As she added a “that is not a lie”, I felt like I would end up waiting for her who knows how many years with just that sentence, so I found myself smiling. My foolishness and Violet’s kindness – those two things made me both cry and laugh.

At the end, we joined hands like little kids. I helped her out of the boat and did not let go after that.

   “So it’s not a lie? You won’t forget me?”

“It is not. I will not. I have good memory.”

“Some-Someday...”

“Yes.”

“If I become someone capable of going to see you someday, will you accept me? Wouldn’t I be a bother? I... Y-Y’know, I... actually wanted to be friends with you. Not just a boater and her customer...”

“Yes, I will.”

“But I can’t right away. I have a family... I don’t, but I do.”

“Yes.”

“But, one day... one day...”

“Yes, one day.”

“Surely, on a really nice day for us to reunite...”

“Yes, it will definitely be a good day.”

“Let’s meet again one day, Violet Evergarden.”

   After that, just as Violet had somehow changed, so did I. Just as snow covered the autumn lands, the silver make-up melted down before anyone realized and young leaves sprouted from it, I also changed.

It was during spring that this was decisive. As expected, for one to start something, it had to be in spring.

Purple flower petals scattered down on the Jacaranda River. I was simply looking at the scenery in a daze. The harbor was crowded with customers. Even though I was a boater and there were several customers wanting a ride, I was using the boat only for myself, not letting anyone hop in. Without paying any attention to my fellow boatmen, who stared at me with strange looks, I merely observed the entirety of this landscape, so as to sear it into my eyes.

My beautiful hometown. A hometown of which I only had memories sad enough to pierce through my chest. A hometown where no one would look for me anymore. A hometown that surely none of them would ever come back to.

The fact that Violet would not come this year gave me a sensation akin to waking up from a dream. As if my hazy head was clearing up, such change came to me.

——Let’s throw it away.

It was then that I thought at last.

——I’ll throw my family away.

That was what I thought.

The reason why I was clinging to this place was that my family might come back someday. I had to return, I had to stay here, or else I was sure they would be troubled if any of them came home. Because it had troubled me. It had made me cry. So I should be here, I thought.

Even though they didn’t give me love, I loved my family.

——But I’ll throw it away.

I was finally able to think like that. As I did so, tears poured down.

I had taken a long time to arrive to this decision, which was a merciless one, and I was a horrible person who surely wouldn’t die a peaceful death and would, as expected, keep on living like this, without being loved by anybody.

But I was going to do it. I was going to throw my family away.

After all, even if the people who were supposed to love me did not, she existed in my world. Somewhere in this world, there was an Auto-Memories Doll who accepted me. So instead of waiting for someone who would never come home, I should take a leap. Because I wasn’t an eight-year-old kid anymore and could go anywhere.

I rowed my boat. Not for anyone else. For the sake of going out into my new journey.

What should I do? When I thought about what to do first, as expected, that girl surfaced in the depths of my mind. The girl I had seen off while praying, “Wait for me”.

The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.

It was okay for me to go looking for them from now. It was okay.

——Wait for me.

My chest was quivering. Starting life anew was common place, but now that it was my turn, I was shaking. It was hard to breathe from the fear and expectations. Flowers from jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision, and although their beauty erased everything that could be seen, they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.

What I wished to see – the purple I wanted to meet once again – was no longer this one.

——Please, wait for me.

Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration. I didn’t know anything anymore. The feeling I had wasted so much of my life and the feeling that I had finally gotten to this point were in conflict.

I didn’t want to abandon my family. I didn’t.

But the truth is that I’d always wanted to. Aah, I was such an idiot, such a confusing one.

That was fine. I didn’t understand myself very well either. I didn’t. I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.

But there was just one thing.

——Wait.

One thing I knew. When it came to things I knew, there was but one.

That I felt so refreshed I shouted to the world without minding anyone, “Violet, wait for me!”

I was going to see her, so I wished she wouldn’t forget me. That was it.

That was all.

   Blue eyes opened.

The train had arrived in the city. While the passengers got off in a hurry, a blue-eyed girl was neatly smoothing down the wrinkles on her ribbon-tie dress before gracefully descending to the platform.

She did not act as if looking for someone or show any signs of losing her way. Her figure as she simply walked straight to her destination was almost like that of a mechanical doll. Surely, she would not do things such as be surprised by something or run towards someone upon finding them. That was how she looked.

The perfectly lady-like girl, however, went completely still in the middle of the crowded platform all of a sudden. Her blue eyes had detected something. Upon finding that person, she blinked as if surprised, and then bolted into a run. The hem of her skirt spread out in disarray. The ribbons keeping her golden hair in place swayed.

As she had started running, the other person also pushed through the crowd and came closer. Three, five, ten steps. She, who had broken into a dash, halted exactly in front of him, yet the other did not.

“Violet, welcome home.”

He held her in his arms and buried his face into her shoulder. Her beloved one, whom she had not seen in a while, tickled her with his nose as he sniffed the scent of her hair. He must have been at the platform for a long time. His cold clothes and his body heat conveyed his desire to see her.

“Major, I am back. I did not know you would come pick me up.”

Having changed from a beast into a person, from a person into a girl and then into someone’s biggest love, Violet accepted the embrace of the other person without resistance.

“I am happy.”

Something gradually rushed through her body. It was the sensation that “joy”, “love” and other such feelings had turned into light and were running from the tips of her toenails to the top of her head.

The young woman who used not to know emotions was now in love.

One could spot other charming lovers here and there. Therefore, even as the Army Colonel of this country, Leidenschaftlich, and an Auto-Memories Doll were hugging each other, no one paid them any mind. The intimate figures of both those two and the other lovers were a common sight. If one were to unravel their history, this was a strange pair born through twists and turns, but in everyday life, it was just a part of the scenery.

“Violet. Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say anything?”

Due to Gilbert hugging her tightly, Violet’s remark was processed simply as an incomprehensible something, but she did not care.

“No, it was nothing much. I have returned, Major.”

“Sorry. Yeah, welcome back, Violet... Did I tell you I wanted to see you?”

“Yes, just now.”

“I heard from Hodgins about when you were scheduled to come back... Tired, are you? I have a carriage waiting so that we can hurry home.”

“Major, what about work...?”

“I came after finishing it. I had to force myself but I have no plans more important than you.”

“Then, can we be together for a little bit as the carriage rides?”

“If you’re okay with it, I can send you to the Evergarden house after we have a meal.”

Gilbert took Violet’s eyes going round as a sign of acceptance. He took Violet’s bag in her stead and, in a natural manner, found himself grasping the hand that had become empty. As he held her hand, Violet moved her gaze fleetingly. She started blinking again upon looking at the two joined hands.

“Major, Major.”

Subsequent to their reunion during the hijacking case of the transcontinental train, the two had confirmed their feelings after the CH Postal Company attack incident and started a new, albeit awkward, relationship.

“What is it?”

“I almost look like a child.”

She indeed was like a child in love.

“Because we’re holding hands?”

“Yes; I would never get lost here, in Leidenschaftlich. You did use to hold my hand before, but... now...”

It was a bit lacking for an army colonel who was past his thirties, but if one were to say that it was fitting of modest people such as these two, it indeed was.

“I’d like you to keep in mind that lovers also hold hands, Violet.”

“Is that so...? Indeed, looking around, there are many people doing this.”

“You had told me you understood... so I perceived us as lovers; was I wrong?”

“N-Not at all.”

“Then, in order to strengthen that perception... let’s change the way we’re holding hands.”

Just by the hold changing into one in which their fingers intertwined, Violet went from just a girl being taken away to a lady being escorted. Violet blinked again. Ever since their romance had come to fruition, each of Violet’s reactions entertained Gilbert, to which he let show a smile that he could not hold back.

“I’ll be happy if, one day, you take my hand without saying anything when I hold out my arm.”

“I need training, Major.”

“Kukuh... That so? Then let’s do it, Violet.”

As the novice couple left the platform, yet another train arrived.

While Violet and Gilbert walked amidst the crowd, a different pair passed right by their side. The young woman was quite a lustrous, beautiful person, whom one could tell was of noble birth. The individual walking with a hand rested on her shoulder as if to protect her from the crowd was an androgynous beauty with unusual silver hair.

Cut short, his platinum-blond hair bore the kind of exquisiteness that looked like it would make chiming sounds as he walked. His jacket, shirt and pants were finely tailored ones. He no longer resembled at all the navigator who used to row a boat in the past.

Feeling as if an old acquaintance had passed by, Valentine halted for a moment.

“What is the matter, Rose?”

Upon being called, Valentine immediately resumed walking with a “nothing”. It was not permissible to stop in the general area of a packed entrance.

“Madam... I had this feeling that the girl I am looking for was here.”

Looking for someone all by themselves. Those two had this point in common.

“Violet Evergarden? That’s right; you will be living as an Auto-Memories Doll in the same city as her. It would not be strange if she did pass by. You will meet that girl someday. And one day – one day, you might also get to see the older brother that you told me about. After all, miracles happen every day.”

However, they had still not realized that the gears of their fates were not yet aligned.

Rose Valentine gave a smile with a “yes, Madam”. “To me, Madam, you are the miracle.”

“Why, my rose does not say such things.”

Rose’s flank was hit rather strongly, but although it actually hurt, the smile did not falter. This was also one of his secrets to success.

“Speaking of which, the Auto-Memories Doll school was truly difficult. I am grateful to Madam for sending me to it, though...”

“Oh, but you have come back as a gentleman who has become able to escort me naturally like this, so it has brought results.”

Rose’s amber eyes widened beneath silver lashes. They reflected his madam’s mischievous facial expression. Rose’s smile collapsed a little and turned into a strained laugh.

“Madam, I managed to deceive people in the past because I used to wear a hat to hide my face, but... can I really do this? Also, does this not mean that I will have to deceive all the other employees and customers?”

There was something he had not told Violet Evergarden. Violet Evergarden was a mysterious girl to him as well, but there was not that great a difference between her and himself.

“I left my hometown in order to start my own life for real, and yet...”

He – no, she was going to begin a new life in this city starting from today. Not just as “Valentine” but as “Rose Valentine”.

The madam of the S.W. (Scarlet Winter) Letter-Specialized Shop, which would later make a name for itself as a unique postal company that mostly employed male Auto-Memories Dolls, replied with an alluring smile.

If there were goodbyes, there had to be encounters. And if there were ends, there had to be beginnings.

“We will not deceive them. You will properly sell yourself as Rose Valentine, the crossdressing beauty, from the very start. We sell a hundred different types of letters, stationery, envelopes. And also the caring customer service from charming young men who have some sort of sparkle to them. There is no mistaking that this will be as addicting as high-grade drinks. It’s exactly because this business is full of women that a shop full of men will shine. Is this discrimination? Are you discriminating against me, Rose?!”

Good endings and bad endings – life went on with both included.

“Haah... But I’m a woman. No, I might be almost a man since I’ve lived most of my life tricking people about my gender...”

“That’s what’s good about it!”

“Haah...”

It looked like an eternity but was not, yet on it went.

“Your boyish side and your original girl side. I recruited you taking them into account. Be at ease. You can sell. You can. After all, there is no other such Auto-Memories Doll.”

“Haah...”

“Don’t ‘haah’ me. Geez... my lovely rose. Worry not. Have I ever lied to you?”

The story would go on. Cruel as the world might be, beautiful moments would come by again.

“It has still not been that long since I first met you... so, I would not know, Madam.”

Morning would come as long as you were there. Such was how stories were made.

[nicka-nell]

Reaction to your ex-boyfriend writing to you 

Pairing: Akaashi x reader, Ushijima x reader, Iwaizumi x reader Warning: none, just fluff

You’ve been in a relationship with Akaashi a long time, so you were very surprised when your ex-boyfriend texted you.

Hello y/n.I’m back in Japan. Would you like to meet me…? Just for coffee, just chat.

You didn’t split up in the bad, but you still don’t know what to do now. Sighing, you come home and sit on the couch tired. “Hey my love, how was your day?” Akaashi greets you with a loving kiss on the forehead and sits down next to you.

“My ex wants to meet with me, just talk…” Questioning and with his head tilted to the side, he looks at you. “Okay, why are you telling me this now?”, “Because I wanted to know what you thought.” Even if you wanted to meet with him, the first thing you’d want to know is if Akaashi was okay with it.

“If you want to go there, I don’t want to stop you. You’re an adult and you can decide for yourself, love. I would never forbid you anyth-” He can’t finish his sentence because Bokuto suddenly jumps out of your bathroom, only covered with a towel.

“AKAAAASHIIIIII!” he just shouts. “Oh God, Bokuto! What are you doing in our apartment?” you shout to him. “Oh yes, Bokuto’s shower is not working at the moment and I offered him to shower here.” Akaashi answers you calmly. Still confused, you look back and forth between the two men.

“Akaashi, you can’t let her go! What if her weird ex wants to take her back? What if y/n leaves you? I couldn’t bear to see you die, Akaashi. I’m not ready for my parents to split up!” Like a drama queen, he puts his hand on his forehead and waves air to himself with his other hand.

“Bokuto…y/n can do what she wants. I trust her fully. If she wants to go there, let her go. I love her, and I support her in everything she does. Besides, I won’t die, you’re not our child and y/n won’t return to her ex.” At his last words, you feel how his hand is lying on your lap, pressing you even harder.

Akaashi would do anything for you, even if he doesn’t like it or it makes him sad. He would never admit it, for your own good.

You’re still smiling as you reach for his hand. “I didn’t want to go anyway.” You whisper lovingly and give him a kiss on the hand.

A barely visible smile draws his face and in his eyes three words are clearly written: Thank you love.

Ushijima and you are like an old married couple. You can communicate without many words, and always know when the other person is in a bad mood. Just like today, because your ex wrote to you.

Hey y/n. I know I screwed up, and yes, this is probably already too late but babe… I miss you, let’s talk. Give me one last chance. The odd volleyball player doesn’t suit you, sweetie.

You don’t know why you’re even thinking about this message. After all, you’re happy with Ushijima. 

“Hey, snow hare, the commercial’s over. Are you still watching?” He’ll ask you without warping his face. “What? Oh yes…”  you answered him and looked at the TV again. But his gaze lingers on your face. “Is something wrong?” he asks irritated. “My ex wrote to me and wants to talk to me, he probably wants to make up for everything.” You just sigh and look at Ushijima.

“I understand.” his look and his voice are still calm. “You… You don’t mind…? You have no doubts?” you ask skeptically. “Why? I know you love me. I trust you.” his voice is still calm, but he turns his gaze away from you. “Besides… if you no longer have feelings for me and want to go back to your ex, I couldn’t stop it… You can’t force feelings y/n. If they could be forced, I would have made Oikawa come to the Shiratorizawa. Instead, he’s wasting his talent on Aobajohsai.”

Now you can’t help laughing. “You and Oikawa… A love story that will never end.” You mumble to yourself. “What did you say?” asks Ushijima, who didn’t understand you. “Nothing, but well… I don’t know if I should go yet.” You sigh and start playing with your fingers. Actually, you would have wished that Ushijima would come out more of himself. But of course you love him for his quiet manner.

He looks at you with an unintelligible look. Without saying anything, he bends over to you and supports his hands left and right of you on the couch. “Toshi?” you ask in wonder. “I don’t care if you meet your ex or not. But I want him to understand that you belong to me…” He whispers to you in a deep voice, while his gaze has now darkened.

“Toshi!” you groan briefly as you feel his lips and teeth on your neck. Loving but also a bit rough, he marks your neck with several hickeys. “You belong to me and not to anyone else. If you meet your ex, don’t cover the hickeys and… wear my jacket.” He whispers to you and slowly pushes his cold hand under your top to caress your skin.

“Do you want the smoothie with spinach or the one with strawberries?” asks Iwaizumi, standing in front of your blender in the kitchen with his sleeves up. “Ih! Of course, the one with strawberries!” You make a face in disgust. 

“I knew you would. The sweet stuff for my darling and the healthy strong stuff for your strong handsome boyfriend.” he laughs loudly and shows his strong arms. But instead of looking at him, you’re looking at your vibrating phone.

Hey y/n. I know you have your own life but… I miss you so much… Can we meet? One last time? I want to see your smile again.

“Earth to y/n! What’s wrong with you?” Iwaizumi hisses. “What? Nothing…” you answer absentmindedly. “Oh yes? Then why are you looking at your phone?” he still sounds annoyed and leans forward to look at your phone.

“Who is this? What does this guy want from you?” now completely annoyed he clenches his hand to the fist. “It’s just my ex-boyfriend… He wants to meet with me.” Sighing, you roll your eyes. “You’re not going there, at least not without me.” He hisses angry and turns to his spinach smoothie.

“You want to tell me who I can and can’t meet?” Now you’re upset, too, because you can’t understand his possessive behavior. “Why do you want to meet your ex? That’s really shitty y/n.”, “And why?” you reply quickly. “Because you’re my girl. Because you’ll always be my girl. You’re mine. You belong to your big strong daddy.”

At his last words, he comes over to you and takes you from behind in his arm, just to bury his head in the crook of your neck. “Hey Iwa-honey, what are you doing there?” you giggle because his eyelashes tickle your neck.

“You know, I’m gonna show my little sexy baby how good a spinach smoothie is and how strong her good-looking boyfriend is.” He whispers to you, and with one jolt, he lifts you up. “Hey!” you laugh up and look him in the eye. 

“I didn’t want to meet my ex anyway, I just have eyes for you.” you smile because he’s the only one who can make you happy. “I know babe, and I love you for that.” 

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 11: Intruloceit (pt 2)

@tsshipmonth2020

The sequel y’all were waiting for! (@hoppe-ideas)

Day 11: ‘Choose your own adventure’ day! I chose to continue from Day 9, since I couldn’t very well leave it there.

Content warning: allusions to abuse, Remus being Remus (need I elaborate?), implied past panic attack, mention of bipolar disorder, and of course, Janus’ crippling insecurities. Angst with a happy ending. 

Word count: 4k

*READ DAY 9 FIRST*

Blue: What time are you available?

Green: What is this, a doctor’s office? I’m free after lunch 

Blue: I was merely tr

Green: I know, I know. I’m just teasing you. It’s endearing, my little mocking-nerd. Bring your textbook, I’ll meet you in the cafeteria. It’s octopus learning time!

Blue: I will never understand you.

Green: Good 

He drew a crude rendering of the devil emoji, then a heart, and the conversation ended as quickly as it began.

--------------------------------------

Green: What would happen if you injected coca cola into your bloodstream

Blue: No.

Green: It’s just a question!

Blue: I’m assuming you would die.

Green: Damn. Can we try anyways?

Blue: No!

Green: C’mon, for science?

Blue: NO! Why did this question even arise?!

Janus hid a small chuckle, before immediately slapping a hand over his mouth. Even if the writing was as much on his arm as it was theirs, it still felt wrong to read it. Felt wrong to admit that he was starting to enjoy their shenanigans.

-------------------------------------

Green: Hey

Blue: Hello, my dear. What is so important that you couldn’t text me?

Green: my mom broke my phone and I’m having an attack

Janus sat straight up, his calligraphy pen clattering to the floor, effectively ruining the large swooping letters he was working on with a splattered gold streak. This was the first message the two had shared that wasn’t either Blue’s notes about homework or Green’s odd creative ideas, or cheesy conversations between the two that Janus tended not to read. It felt like intruding on someone’s life. He hadn’t learned their names yet, and while they always stuck to the same color scheme, he knew at this point he’d be able to distinguish their handwriting with no hesitation. It was his version of hearing their voices, and he’d started growing attached to them. He turned his full attention to the conversation on the back of his arm, feeling a surge of worry.

Blue: I’m on my way, be at the curb in ten minutes?

Green: thanks

Blue: Remember those breathing exercises. Try to stay calm. 

Green: please hurry

Blue: I’m driving as fast as I can, love.

The messages ended there, and Janus didn’t sleep that night.

----------------------------------------------------------

Blue: Happy birthday, Remus. I hope you have an amazing day.

Remus: Are we still good to go for tonight? 

Blue: Of course. I had Roman and Patton help plan most of the date, so I hope you enjoy it.

Remus: Logan, if it’s with you, I will~ 

Logan: You’re a sap.

Remus: And you love it

Logan: Guilty.

Never had Janus felt so alone. It was one thing to have anonymous messages scribbled on your arm, little doodles and good luck wishes, but to know their names? That brought on a whole new round of tears that he hated himself for. Remus and Logan. The names of his so-called soulmates, the labels he could finally put to the personalities. As much as he hated to admit it, waking up had become a whole lot easier since they’d started appearing on his skin. It was something little to look forward to.

It also hurt, just a little bit more. Before he was eighteen, he’d been able to imagine his situation like his parent’s, with a soulmate who would end up hating and hurting him, and it was easy to decide to never communicate when the time arrived. And even if they seemed like genuinely good people, every time he lifted a pen to respond, to announce his presence, he stopped himself, as his father’s words rang through his head.

Why would anyone want you, Janus?

You’re a mistake, and they’ll see that instantly.

Honestly, what good do you even have to offer a soulmate?

He didn’t want them to be true, but it wasn’t like anyone had ever told him differently. His mother avoided his eyes and was silent, his peers treated him like a disease, so those words were the ones he started to believe. So he capped the pen, pulled his sleeve down, and ignored the small feather light tickles as they spread across his arms. 

------------------------------------------------

Of course, it wasn’t avoidable forever. 

It was writing on skin, did he think that was something he would never do accidentally? Was he really that stupid? They were going to be so pissed when they found out how long he’d been snooping on their conversations. They’d hate him. They’d never be open to the idea that he was somehow meant to be in their lives. He was done. He was such an idiot.

These were the thoughts raging through his mind as he looked down over himself in shock, spilled amber ink shimmering on his skin. It was an accident; an opening of an ink pod combined with over enthusiastic dancing to the Chicago soundtrack, leading to a faltering concentration and skin covered in staining gold. He’d been sitting cross legged on his chair when the cartridge exploded, and he’d bounded to his bathroom to try and wash it off, but it had only been partially successful. There was no doubt in his mind that they would see it. It had covered a good majority of today’s messages on his arms, smeared across his shins from hurriedly trying to wipe it away, and speckled across his face like the world’s most unfortunate freckles. 

He dropped back into his chair, his music now turned off, and laid his head on the cool wood of his desk. The ticking on his clock was the only sound in the room and he counted each one, mentally marking the minutes as they passed by. Waiting. Five minutes of silent fear had passed before a new anxiety began to rise in him. What if they were his soulmates, but he wasn’t theirs? He’d heard of it happening, ever so rarely, that soulmarks weren’t reciprocated. If that was true for him, and he was starting to become sure it was, they wouldn’t see the ink. They never would. He would be forced to live the rest of his life on the outside, reading their life on his skin but never able to take part. Somehow that seemed a lot worse now that it wasn’t his choice.

Just as he was starting to spiral, a familiar tickle on his arm snapped him back to the present. His head jerked up, hair falling into his heterochromatic eyes as he followed the dark blue script, starting just under the largest golden spill.

Hello? 

And how should he respond to that? He couldn’t think of a fun one liner, a sassy quip, to introduce himself. For the first time in his life, lying wasn’t an option, and he hated that. He grabbed the first pen he could grab, a black ballpoint, with shaking fingers.

Hi. Well, that was lame. 

You’re our soulmate. It was less of a question, more of a statement. Janus took a deep breath, bringing the pen down again.

Yes. 

I’m sorry. What he was apologizing for, he couldn’t quite put a finger on. But it felt right. Apologizing was simply second nature to him.

Whatever for?

He didn’t know how to answer that time, so he did what he always did best, and watched. Waited again, hoping that Blue (Logan, he remembered vaguely), would just drop the subject. This was the most conversation he’d had with someone in a while. 

My name’s Remus. The other dork is Logan. 

The green ink appeared under the blue, and Janus’ heart dropped painfully in his chest. As if he didn’t already know their names. It’s not as if he could say that, though. 

You seem kinda shy. It’s cute 

Let them speak, Remus. 

Both of them went silent, offering time to allow Janus to write. But he didn’t know what to say, how to explain… 

So he didn’t. He yanked down the sleeves of his pajama top, pulling the edges over his hands to hide the now dried golden  ink, and collapsed onto his bed, dooming himself to another night of restless sleep. 

----------------------------------------

If Janus had the choice, he wouldn’t have gone to school the next day. He would have laid curled up under his blanket, struggling to tune out the sound of his parents arguing, letting the world pass him by like an old camera reel. Janus didn’t have the choice though, not when he remembered it was nearing the end of the year and exam season was drawing closer, and then the bickering downstairs became motivation. Good grades would equal an out-of-state college, which would mean getting away from thrown dishes and slamming doors. 

Even so, that didn’t mean that Janus didn’t regret the entire day of school. It seemed like a breath of fresh air when the lunch bell rang and the students shuffled out of the class in a lump, leaving just him and Mr. Sanders behind, as per usual. Just as he reached down to pull his lunch out of his bag (just a handful of cold scrambled eggs he had set aside from his already meager breakfast), the teacher spoke.

“I actually have a meeting today, Jay. You’re gonna have to find a different place to have lunch.”

“What?” Janus recoiled as he spoke, his own voice sounding foreign to him. He hadn’t meant to talk back, half expecting a lecture, and was surprised when the teacher’s expression morphed into one of sympathy.

“Sorry, bud. It’s a staff meeting, and I couldn’t find a TA to watch the room over the break. It’s only for today. Cafeteria is open though, I’m sure you can find an empty table there. Or better yet,” He smiled softly, lifting his laptop bag onto his shoulder, “Sit with someone. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

Janus picked up his bag as well, rushing from the room without a second glance. He didn’t feel like explaining that the reason he sat alone wasn’t his choice, and he couldn’t help it. He was just tired of being pushed away, so why not make the first move himself. 

The path to the cafeteria was hardly trodden by him, and he tried to take in the pictures of past grad classes on the wall for as long as possible before his time was up. The security guard marching the halls gave him a pointed look, reminding him that he couldn’t stay in the hallways during lunch, so he hunched his shoulders and walked into the lunch room. He cursed the weather under his breath for being so damn hot today; he would melt in his hoodie and gloves to cover the ink. Luckily the splatters on his face blended in enough with the skin tone to be unnoticeable. 

The first thing he noticed is that it was loud. People shouted, trays clattered, and Janus wanted nothing more than to curl up in his hoodie. Social interaction. Gross. The second was that Mr. Sanders had been right, there was a line of empty tables at the back that people seemed to avoid in favor of grouping together in the center. The third and final thing was the overwhelming sense of loneliness that flooded Janus as soon as he walked in. Sitting alone in an empty room was one thing, choosing to sit alone in a crowded room was another. 

For a split second, the teacher’s words ran through his mind, and he wondered briefly if he should join a group, only for his anxiety to immediately shut the idea down with a shriek of are you crazy?!

He chose the closest table to the door that was untouched and sat hesitantly, appetite lost. All he had to do was get through an hour of this, he thought painfully. If he paid close enough attention, he could tune into other people’s conversations, and if he closed his eyes and drifted far enough, he might actually imagine that he was a part of them. 

“Hi!”

Janus’ eyes shot open and he shrunk back as if he’d been slapped. Standing in front of him was a guy he recognized from his math class, bouncing on his heels enough to make his blonde curls fall into his eyes. He was grinning from ear to ear, gleaming teeth matching the white collar that stood out from under his blue sweater. 

“Do you want to sit with us?”

His critical glare didn’t deter the overly joyful guy as he gestured over Janus’ shoulder, encouraging him to look. He did, albeit reluctantly. Four people were sitting at the table behind him, three caught up in a spirited conversation. The last one was staring back at him owlishly through thick square glasses, and surprisingly, Janus wasn’t unsettled by the look. 

“Come sit with us!” The happy guy said again, looking like he was refraining himself from just grabbing Janus and pulling him over. His round glasses had started edging down his nose as he hopped from foot to foot.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep! Please?” He drew out the word for several seconds. Janus couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips, nodding mutely and gathering his backpack. His anxiety started again, pelting him with ‘they’re going to hate you’s and ‘this changes nothing’s, but he pushed them down resolutely. It was just the one meal. Tomorrow would be back to normal, eating lunch by himself in Mr. Sanders’ room. And he really couldn’t say no to that hopeful face. 

“Yay! Okay,” He led Janus to the table, dropping into one of the two empty seats and pointing to the one next to him. He took a deep breath before gushing on, “Sit! Okay, okay, okay, so I’m Patton, purple-hair is Virgil but they hate the name so you can just call them V. We all call them V. That’s Logan, and the twins are Roman and Remus. Remus has the white streak, but it’s actually really easy to tell them apart once you get to know them.”

Janus’ blood froze in the middle of Patton’s gleeful rant. Those names… those were all the names that kept popping up over the five months of secret soulmate snooping. That wasn’t a coincidence, right? Most of those names weren’t exactly common.

His eyes shifted to the two Patton had introduced as Remus and Logan, sitting shoulder to shoulder across from him. Remus had halted whatever he was talking so animatedly about in favor of greeting the newcomer, but Janus couldn’t get himself to wave back. Instead he dropped his gaze to their loosely intertwined hands on the table, feeling somewhat lightheaded at the identical golden stains covering both of them. 

So... he ran. He wasn’t proud of it, and he was somewhat certain that he���d made a scene, but he couldn’t do it. His own self doubt was crippling, all his fears rushing him full forced and reminding him just how little he mattered, how messed up his life had made him, how he would only ruin any possible relationship. This was all too real now. They fit so well to the picture he had unintentionally made of them in his mind; navy blue button up tops and slicked back hair, green bomber jackets and mussed up shoulder length curls. Eyes that glinted with barely concealed mirth, a dimpled grin revealing almost razor sharp canines. Two polar opposites, so perfectly built for each other, soulmates. He would just come along and ruin it. 

Screw the sun, he thought, as he sat on the scalding hot bleachers by the football field. To his extreme annoyance, tears had started drifting down his cheeks, and he hurriedly wiped them away from sheer habit. His dad didn’t like tears almost as much as he didn’t like Janus. It wasn’t like they would know it was him, right? All they knew was a stranger had been invited to their table and had booked it before they even got his name. So he could stay a mystery, a fly on the wall, for the rest of his days.

The all too familiar feeling on his arm was more of a curse now than it ever had been. Resigned to his fate, he rolled the sleeve up to read whatever the two were no doubt talking about. 

Hi. 

He looked around frantically despite his better judgment, his eyes landing on a figure standing at the end of the bench, uncapped pen in one hand and one blue sleeve rolled up. Logan regarded him with a careful look, locked in a staring contest that neither wanted to look away from. The other broke first, turning his focus to his steps across the rickety surface as he approached Janus. He took a seat, mumbling something about how hot it was, before scribbling something else onto his arm and capping the pen. Janus tried to fight the urge to look down at his own still-bare arm, but he couldn’t resist a quick peak.

I found him. Bleachers in the north field.

“Why don’t you take off the gloves, at least. It’s almost ninety degrees out.”

Welp. Apparently this was happening. “How did you know?” He whispered, not touching his gloves.

“Remus and I both felt naturally drawn to you as soon as you walked into the cafeteria. We could not and still can not explain it. When Patton followed our gaze, he was more than eager to invite you over. Not that he needed the prompting, I am certain he would have invited you over regardless of Remus’ and my feelings the moment you sat alone,” Logan stopped briefly, taking note of the new green smiley face under his last message, “Your reaction to our names and hands in rapid succession was enough to solidify our previous suspicions. That-” He pointed to the shared messages on their skin, “-was the final proof I needed.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Janus at a complete loss for words, until a loud clang to their right grabbed both of their attentions. Remus was clinging to the railing like a vine, having climbed all the way from the bottom, he realized with a start. The older man crawled over the top and landed solidly, rattling the seats, before bouncing over to them.

“Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi!” He plopped onto the bench in front of Janus, sitting backwards to face them. Consequently, he was slightly lower than the other two, and could see Janus’ usually ducked face for the first time. “Oooh, I like your birthmark! Is it a birthmark? Or a burn? Either way, I don’t care. I like it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Janus snarked before he could stop himself, his self protective tendency rising to the surface. Remus only giggled in response, manspreading a tad more and leaning forward on his elbows. 

“I like him, Logan. He’s feisty.”

“I’m so glad I have your approval.” He was on guard now, he couldn’t help it.

“Remus, stop pestering him. He just met us.”

Remus grumbled under his breath but held his tongue. Logan could silence him, he’d have to remember that for the future. If they had a future. He couldn’t help the sliver of hope since they had actually come to find him… but maybe it was to let him down easy. No clue.

“When did you turn eighteen?” The question shouldn’t have shocked him the way it did; it was a valid thought.

“Five months ago.”

And he waited, expecting the worst at the sharp intakes of breath from both of them. Expected them to stand up and leave. Expected them to call him a creep. Expected them to… anything, really. 

Well, anything except take his hands. Which they both did.

It was like they could speak telepathically, the way they seemed to be so in sync. Maybe that was a soulmate thing. Remus reached forward and weaved their fingers together at the same time that Logan placed his hand over Janus’ left one, squeezing it gently. They were both calming gestures in their own ways, and admittedly the most contact Janus had felt in maybe years. If that wasn’t enough to bring back his tears, Logan’s next words certainly were. 

“Why didn’t you write right away?”

“That’s so much missed time we could have spent together,” Remus chipped in, eyes surprisingly soft. 

“I…” Oh, for fuck’s sake. Better let them see how messed up he is now so they can walk away before he gets attached. More attached. “My parents are soulmates and they ended up hating each other. He’s a jerk, he hurts her and me and I didn’t want that to happen to me and my soulmate. Soulmates, I guess. Then the first thing I saw was you guys talking, and I realized, there’s two of you,” He laughed humorlessly, shrugging nonchalantly, “You wouldn’t be missing out if I never made myself known, and what kind of asshole would I be if I intruded on your relationship anyways? It’s not like I can add anything worthwhile. I’m not… that great of a person. I never have been. I have too much baggage and I’m pretty boring and I only scare people away so if I were you I’d get out while I had the chance.” His cracking voice gave away how he actually felt, and he despised himself for it. In all honesty, there was nothing he wanted more than to be held and loved and wanted. He’d never had that before in his life, was it a crime to not want to be pushed aside forever?

To his utter confusion, neither of them pulled away. He’d just vented to two strangers, and they were still as attentive as before. 

“Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” Remus hummed in a decent impression of John Mulaney, letting his thumb glide over Janus’. 

“So if I’m correct,” Logan stated in a tone that implied he usually was correct, “You didn’t contact us because you didn’t want to burden us, or get yourself hurt.”

“I mean… yeah.”

“I’m going to kill your dad,” Remus chirped all too brightly, “For hurting you. And for ever making you think that we would hurt you.” 

“Remus!”

“It’s true!”

Logan sighed heavily, “Remus is a little extreme, sometimes, but he is harmless. Look, I can assure you that your presumptions are entirely false. We would never harm you, and anything you’ve gone through in your past, what you call baggage, is not a deterrent to us in the slightest.”

“I have bipolar disorder, and a whole wacky past that we’ll get into another time,” Remus added, waving away Logan’s ‘shut up’ face, “And in the fifteen years I’ve known this nerd, he’s always stood by me.”

Janus knew it was supposed to feel better, but learning that the two have known each other since long before they knew they were soulmates suddenly made Janus feel that much more like he was intruding. Remus must have noticed his expression, because he quickly kept going.   

“All I mean is that we have our fair share of baggage, my multicolored friend-”

“Remus!”

“Both of us do. So you won’t be hurting us in any way, shape, or form. And we won’t hurt you either.”

Janus’ own doubts were still raging inside him, but each word they said was adding splashes of water, slowly dousing the flames, much to his dismay. Even Remus’ attempts at humor were delighting him in ways he wasn’t used to. 

“For some reason, the universe wants us together somehow. We’re meant to be in each other’s lives. Aw gross, that sounds like something Roman would-”

“Trusting us will be a slow process, and we understand that,” Logan interrupted smoothly, “You don’t need to believe our words, because we’ll prove it to you. Alright?” 

It took a second until Janus nodded, but he did. He could hardly understand it himself.

“Can you start by telling us your name?”

“Janus.” It was a near whisper, a confession of the name he’d disliked since he was old enough to get bullied by his peers.

“The two faced Roman god of decisions, doorways, and new beginnings,” Logan spouted as if on instinct.

“Janus,” Remus repeated slowly, before a huge grin stretched across his face, “I love it.”

[anon-rebel-writes]

WIP Wednesday!

Hello everyone! I hope you are having a glorious Wednesday!

I worked more on that magic/sneeple story! I like the way it’s coming along! I’m not gonna lie, it’s a lot longer than I thought it’d be! Not that it’s insanely long, but it’s definitely one of my longer works, which I think is a good thing? I mean more Lukanette never hurt anyone XD

(Also my best friend informed me that there’s a lot more to snake people than just being half-human/half-snake, so now I have to go back and edit the work I already wrote because apparently sneeple do a lot more than just slither and have tails XD (Also also, the official name of that species is NOT sneeple, but I’ve grown affectionate with this name, so I’mma keep calling them sneeple! And yes, this is a hill I am willing to die on XD))

(Also also also, I’m totally going to get some things wrong with their...culture? Is it called a culture if the beings aren’t real? I still have a lot to learn about them! I’ve read up on them but a lot of it is...well... confusing to say the least XP So I’m gonna apologize in advance!)

Today’s snippet is going to (sorta) continue from the last snippet! Mainly because I don’t wanna give too much away. Also it’s kinda cute and fluffy and I thought everyone might enjoy that (figured that other Lukanette lovers might need a pick-me-up XD)

Anyways, the snippet begins under the cut! <3

If being ‘tense’ could be personified, Marinette was the perfect candidate.

His coils were soft, extremely smooth, and very shiny, but noticing his tail and sitting in the middle of it were two completely different things. The way the tip of it flicked against her ankle definitely wasn’t helping. 

But none of that could compare to Luka’s face buried in her neck. She wasn’t sure what was worse, his breath tickling her baby hairs, or the fact that Luka’s face was buried in her neck.

At least in this position, he couldn’t see her face. There were no spells in the world to hide the pure red that engulfed her cheeks.

“I don’t want you blaming yourself,” Luka whispered. And with that one sentence, Marinette could safely say that the soft breath against her skin was absolutely worse than anything else in this world.

Well, that and the fact that she turned her friend/crush into a snake person.

“Honestly the amount of times I turned mom into an eagle was shocking, and she usually stayed like that for awhile. At least like this, I can actually talk. You’ve heard how loud my mom is, now imagine if she could only communicate via squaking.”

They shared a soft laugh. At another time, Marinette would’ve been thankful to Luka for trying to make the situation less tense, but the laughter was not helping the ticklish feeling on her neck.

Marinette shimmed in place, trying to force herself into relaxing, but sitting in his lap was anything but relaxing. Physically? It was amazing. His tail was oddly softer than she imagined it would be. Emotionally? She was dying. The closer Luka snuggled into her, the more she was becoming okay with death. Dying in his lap wouldn’t be that bad, right?

Luka’s body continued to coil around her. His tail brushed against her leg and it sent tingles up her body and straight into her brain. Now that she could actually feel him, she noticed he felt cool to the touch, as if there wasn’t any heat in his body. 

Was that a side-effect of being a snake person? Being more cold? Does this mean he was cold-blooded? Don’t snakes usually-?

“You’re so warm, Mari.”

Yup, she was dead. One sentence was all she needed to kill her. Honestly was she ever alive? The feeling Luka gave her from that one sentence was definitely the most alive she’s ever felt in her life.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

On Days Like This (Part 3)

Carwood Lipton x Reader

Summary: ooh girl we got a spicy filler chapter IN THIS BITCH.

Carwood had woken up before you the morning after you’d made love with him with a stupid grin on his face and an excited flutter in his heart.

If the blissful soreness in his sated body didn’t serve as confirmation enough that last night had indeed happened, the soft weight of your bare thigh over his provided more than enough evidence of the contrary.

Your nude body was a sight to behold, the beginnings of bruises from his biting kisses across her chest had just begun to blossom in the dim light coming in from the streetlight outside of the hotel room window. He hadn’t realized he’d made them at the time, too lost in the taste of your skin and  the rolls of your hips.

The sweet way you sighed his name, lips trembling so beautifully he felt he had no choice but to give you anything and everything that you were begging for….

Carefully, not wanting to wake you just yet, Lip rolled onto his side so he could prop himself up on his elbow and admire your peaceful expression.

You obviously had not grown up being told how beautiful you were- it was obvious in the way your face would turn bright pink and you’d turn away whenever he informed you of how lovely he found you, how brave and smart you were. How lucky he was to know you.

How lucky he felt to have been deemed worthy of your affection.

You’d only recently stopped smacking him in the arm whenever he tried to compliment you, and he considered it a victory the first time you simply pulled a face and thanked him without argument.

You’re entirely biased but thank you Lip, that’s very sweet of you to say. Now stop looking at me like that, we’re at work….

He liked the way you said his name- any of his names, really. Lip, Car, Carwood, Sgnt Lipton, Sir—

Thinking of your lips wrapping around the word Sir had his cock twitching instantly, and he had to consciously make an effort to put that thought aside in order to continue enjoying his rare opportunity to observe you at complete peace.

It wasn’t just sex, it hadn’t been sex at all until last night.

It had just….been, he supposed. 

From the moment the two of you had met, he’d just felt like something about you fit. One day you hadn’t been there and then one day you were and suddenly he couldn’t imagine a day going by without seeing you at least once. You were easy to like, friendly and bright and could tinker just about anything back to life with little more than some elbow grease and a few strategically placed wires.

Even if he wasn’t in love with you, he knew he’d be in awe of you.

But he was in love with you- and even though he knew that the two of you needed to talk about how you were going to make this work, he couldn’t bring himself to worry about that right now.

Not with you nestled beside him, sex mussed and at complete ease.

Yeah, that conversation could wait. 

As lightly as he could, Carwood brings his free hand up and brushes his fingertips across the pink splotches he’d left up your sternum, a sigh of wonder escaping his lips as he watches the wave of goosebumps following his touch like a wave washing up some pristine shoreline.

Following the path of your collarbone he traced the lines of your shoulders, your neck.

Each freckle, acne scar, and knick of old injury he encountered was given attention and committed to memory- learning the bare skin of your upper body like some precious map. 

He wasn’t sure if you would be as stupidly pleased as he seemed to be upon waking up, so he decided to be selfish and enjoy each moment with you that he could.

Just in case.

As his thumbnail trails the underside of your breast you suddenly take a deep breath, brow wrinkling as you begin to stir.

Guilt instantly fills him. He hadn’t meant to wake you up— the sun still hadn’t even yet begun to light up the balmy sky outside.

But when you did open your eyes you only furrowed your brow for a few moments until he watched the tell-tale ache of your lower half register on your face and you smirk.

Sliding your sleepy gaze to him, you bring a hand up to rest on the side of his neck.

“Hey,” you grumble, your voice thick and warm. Lip brings his hand up to rest over yours, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips to press kisses on your knuckles.

“Hi.”

Closing your eyes again, you arch your back up off of the bed and Lip can hear the satisfying pop of some of your tense joints. His eyes find themselves locked onto the rise of your breasts at the action, and when you catch him staring you lightly flick his nose.

“Pervert.” You chide, smiling as he scowls and turning to nuzzle your face into the warm spot between his neck and shoulder. “Not even trying to be subtle—”

“Sorry, ma’am.” he says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice when you throw your leg over his hip and push him so he’s now laying on his back. He pulls you with him so you’re lying half atop him, and like with most things between the two of you he found himself at ease once more.

“Can’t help it if you make me forget my manners—”

“Oooh, smooth.” you praise with a quiet chuckle, breath tickling his earlobe. “Well done, Sir”

There was that title again- Sir.

You must've felt the shift in him, because suddenly you’re straddling his lap and looking down on him with a wicked grin.

“Clifford Carwood Lipton,” you admonish with an expression of faux-severity, sliding your hands up his chest appreciatively. “I’m surprised at you—”

“I’m amazed by you.” he says sincerely, catching the way your brows shoot up in surprise for just a moment before you regain control.

He watches as you narrow your eyes at him playfully, letting that wicked smirk paint your face once more.

“You’ve already slept with me, Car. There’s no need to lay it on so thick.”

He shakes his head, and when he sits up his hands hold your waist to keep you in his lap. 

Your smirk is gone, a hesitant look of wanting in your eyes as you take his face gently in your hands.

“If you think I’m going to stop telling you how much I care about you because I've made love to you, you;ve got another thing coming.”

You blush at that, going even redder at the phrase ‘making love’.

“I know that you’re just being sincere, but i think it’s important you know I’m not….used to that.”

You’re looking at him with vulnerability in your eyes, and if he wasn’t so touched that you were trusting him enough to do so he would’ve kissed you until you forgot every disappointment that had brought you to question his honesty and intentions in the first place.

He nods, and when you don’t say anything else he begins to knead at the muscles at the base of your spine, the comforting motion seeming to refocus you and set you at ease once more.

“I was worried I’d dreamed it.” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest to his as he pulled you close. “Last night, i mean—”

He can’t stop the pride from swelling in his chest when you say that, and he must’ve shown it on his face because you laugh and duck a kiss to his lips.

Your lips feel colder now.

“How are you real?” you ask when you pull back a bit. Carwood opens his mouth to ask you the same thing when his words die in his throat.

He could’ve sworn you hadn’t fallen asleep in a nightgown, that you hadn’t been wearing a nightgown at all when you’d just kissed him.

Your brow furrows, and when you whisper his name again you sound worried.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly. Lip said nothing, shaking his head as he saw that the hem of your nightgown was torn and dirty. 

In horror, Lip watched as the white shift you wore aged to a dingy grey before his eyes, your face becoming sunken and bruised as you looked at him with concern in your bloodshot eyes.

“Lip, why are you looking at me like that?”

Your hands are ice cold when they come up to hold his face, and when he flinches you frown and blink at him slowly.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice dying in his throat as the walls of the hotel room fell away and he saw that they weren’t in Georgia at all. “You’re too cold, you’re going to get sick…”

You laughed at that, a cough corrupting the happy sound and robbing you of your breath.

“Oh, darling,” you say once you’ve recovered from your coughing fit. “You’re the one who is sick.”

You’re right, he thinks as the ache in his chest slowly returns. You’re always right.

“I don;t want to lose you.” he whispers, your figure becoming less and less solid with each teary blink of his eyes. He clutches at your dirty shift and squeezes you as tightly to him as he can, vainly hoping that if he held you tightly enough, he’d wake up with you in his arms.

Your limbs wrap around him, and when you kiss his cheek he cries harder.

“That’s good to hear, Lip. Cause I don’t want to be lost.”

He knows he has to wake up now, already becoming aware of the rawness of his throat from all of the coughing he’d done. 

Just a few minutes more, just a little bit longer….

When Lip opens his eyes, he’s still in the truck driving towards town, having fallen asleep in the back next to Bull and Johnny Martin under a communal pile of blankets.

“Got a ways to go yet, Sarge.” he hears George Luz say from somewhere to his left. “Might as well try to catch some more shut eye….”

Lipton doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly burrowing deeper into his coat and squeezing his eyes shut.

If he was lucky, he could still catch you before you left his mind completely. 

And this time he wasn’t going to let you go.

(Hello Hi, I meant to just write this for me/to draw inspo from for future things but I kinda loved it more than I intended to so here you go.)x

[writingsbychlo]

feels like loneliness (08)

word count; 7701

summary; thomas is frustrated and distnacing himself from everyone, and only one person can break through that. 

notes; took me a while to sort this out after tumblr fucked it up, I’m sorry it took so long to get uploaded!

warnings; smut, overstimulation, aggressive sex.

“I keep on the go but, I don't mean to tease you”

Thomas was stressed. He had been for months. Everyone was worked up about how they were going to get Minho back. Their group had been growing, considerably, over the last few months, as they had slowly travelled their way to the abandoned town by the shore three months ago, they had picked up stragglers along the way, but no matter how many new minds were put to the task, they were still at a dead end. 

In the first couple of months, they had made huge progress. It seemed like they were getting closer and closer to a solution every day, closer to a way to save Minho, bring him back safely. Around month three, as they’d found their new place to stay, they’d hit a bump. It was like they had all the information and all the ideas, but the puzzle pieces just didn’t seem to slot together quite right. Around month four, Vince had become distracted, the more kids that joined and needed help, the more determined he was to get them to the safe haven. The ship they had been working on was getting closer and closer to being ready to go with each passing day.

Everybody’s nerves were fried, what with WCKD beginning to do checks each week that seemed to be drawing nearer each time they were conducted. Thomas had been putting everything on his shoulders, from all that had gone wrong that night to the present day, any little error and mistake was added to the weight on his back, and no matter how much anyone tried to relieve him of the guilt, he would snap or storm away. Newt was missing his friends, Minho imparticular, and the weight of everybody else he had lost was dragging heavily on his heart. 

Vince was stressed about getting everybody to the safe haven, he had committed to it, and was working himself up into a frenzy. Brenda and Jorge were trying to make themselves useful, dig themselves into the community deeply enough that they’d be taken to the safe haven too, despite their lack of immunity, and the tickling timebomb on Brenda’s shoulder, seemingly waiting for her to suddenly crank out.

And you? You were surprised your hair wasn’t falling out with stress and anger.

You had been going over your notes, again and again, reading through every inch of every page as you tried to decipher your own notes, but with only a drip of your memories, you only had a drip of your knowledge. You just weren’t as clever without them, you couldn’t understand your own works, and you certainly couldn’t finish your final push for a cure, no matter how hard you tried. You were worried about all your friends, and for Thomas especially, who had been pulling in on himself more and more as he worked long nights and hard days to save his friend.

You had tried to talk to him, to help him. At first, you’d settled on waiting, until you got somewhere safe to be able to talk about what you would be, where things would go. When you had finally reached your temporary camp, he had instead seemed to close down completely. He sealed himself away from everyone, closing the door and staying behind it. He’d barely speak, and you were growing lonely without him. 

When you reached out, he often pulled away, shooting anyone who tried to distract him from his work a look or harsh words that sent them reeling. He barely even let his hand brush against yours anymore. Bags were hanging under his eyes, and the discussion of whatever you two were going to be hadn’t just been tabled for another day, he’d boxed it up, sealed it tight and put it into storage. Around about the middle of month four, you’d all stopped trying altogether.

He’s become unbearable to be around, throwing anger tantrums and shouting, storming and stropping around, throwing insults and accusations around like they were hello’s and you’d all given up entirely. He’d almost fought Newt hours prior, the blonde simply having told him maybe he should take a break for his health, get some sleep or just relax, and when he’d placed a hand on his shoulder, Thomas had almost snapped it in anger when he yanked the touch away.

Now, two were simmering at each other from across the table. A table with a map set out, little rocks and figures representing different obstacles and items they had in their way and at their disposal. A table, that they had been gathering around every single day since they had gotten here, at the ex-runner’s request, and not a single piece had moved its place in two weeks now. As Vince finished telling Thomas that he was pulling back for a while to finish fixing the ship, his anger bubbled over, and the boy slammed his fist down onto the table, the pieces on the map jumping at the disturbance and he screamed loudly. 

He yelled obscenities at everyone, storming from the room and kicking at barrels and scrap as he went, the sounds of his anger fading away as he made the trek to the little room he’d claimed as his own, secluded from everyone else so he could brood in isolation. You sighed loudly, eyes sliding shut and you bit at the nail on your thumb, the chatter around you taking up.

“This is ridiculous. Someone needs to go and talk with him, hash it out because this obsession is going too far.” Vince had concluded, and your head tilted to the side, hands coming to sit on your hips as you opened your eyes, only to find everybody looking at you. Your own eyes widened as your jaw dropped, and you shook your head quickly. “No, absolutely not.”

“You’re the only one who can do it, love.”

“That is not true! Any one of you could talk to him! Why does it have to be me?” You fought, your eyebrows shooting up but you could already tell you were losing the battle as they all continued to look at you.

“He’s snapped at all of us, and tried to take a physical blow at most of us.” Jorge chuckled, and Newt scowled at him, Frypan coming up to rub subconsciously at the place where they blackeye he’s been given had only just faded. 

“With you, he just bites his tongue and storms off to simmer quietly.” Brenda added, and you looked at her pleadingly, hoping she would’ve taken your side and she raised her arms in defence as her gaze left yours. “Hey, don’t give me that look! He loves you, so you have to be the one to go talk to him.”

“He does not! Shut it, before I beat the flare to it and take you out myself.” She whistled, laughing at your weak threat, and you fought the urge to laugh with her.

“He does, love, that is why you have to go get him to sort his bloody temper out.” Newt tried to ease the tension, still caring for the boy even through the countless fights they had been having and you groaned loudly. 

“If he did, he wouldn't be treating me like this. This isn’t how you treat someone you love.” You murmured, swallowing thickly and looking back up to them all. “But, I will go and talk to him, to get all you shanks off my back.”

Newt whooped, the group smiling happily and the blonde clapped his hands down on your shoulders, steering you towards the door. “Minho is going to be thrilled when he hears you using Glader-slang.” He joked, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh, setting off on the short trek to follow the direction Thomas had gone in only minutes prior. 

You could hear him throwing things about and shouting angrily before you had even stopped outside his door, the mess inside being evident as you opened it carefully, leaning your shoulder against the frame as he continued to strop, his eyes only catching sight of you a few seconds later. “You wanna’ talk about it?”

“I don’t want to talk about anything.” He spat, panting aggressively as he ran a hand through his hair, looking back at you when you didn’t move. “Especially not with you.”

Your brow furrowed, a scoff leaving you as his words cut deep, hurt seeping into the open wound. “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

When he looked back to you, he could see the hurt look in your eyes, the sharp look on his features softening minutely as he heard the pain in your voice at his outburst and he let out a groan. “Fuck, I-I didn’t mean it like that. You just wouldn’t-”

“Understand? You’re treating me, all your friends, like shit, because you don’t think we wouldn’t understand?” You shook your head, dipping it as you pushed yourself from your leaned position, nails digging into the skin of your palms as you clenched your fists. “Do you-”

“Can you just leave me alone?” His words were sliced at you, digging deeper than any insult he’d given you so far had as he continued to push you away, and you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing your emotions down, desperate to say your piece.

“Sure, Thomas. I’ll go, I’ll leave you alone. You have made it very clear over the last few months that you don’t want me around you.” You were seething, his eyes widening at your words and his jaw dropped open to speak, though your glare shut him up. “But, don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t understand what you went through! What you are going through!” Your finger jabbed into his chest as you stormed forwards, and he was shocked as you finally snapped at him after all this time. “What? You lived in the maze for a week? I lived that hell for over a year, Thomas! I watched my friends die, I watched people I care about get taken and I suffered too! So, don’t you dare have the audacity to tell me that I don’t get it!”

You were screaming in his face, tears lining your eyes as the faces of all of those you had lost flashed behind your eyes, and he huffed, not understanding how to convey how he was feeling. “You don’t! You don’t get it though!” You looked up at him, your jaw clenched as you glared at him in fury. “You don’t have all this pressure on your shoulders, to save everyone, to be the leader and to find a way to save them all! I-I feel.. I need to save them! All of them! I didn’t want to talk about it with you because I knew I’d end up screaming and getting angry with, and goddammit, you are the only person here who’s opinion has ever mattered and I didn’t want you to see me as fucking weak!”

The silence echoed around the room as he tugged on his hair, growling to himself as he paced and you were shocked, the sound of your breathing audible in the deafening silence hanging over you both. You reached out cautiously, bringing him to a stop as tears filled his eyes and you reached up, taking his hands from where they were tugging at the roots of his locks carefully, letting them hang by his side.

Your hand cupped his cheek gently, shaking your head as you looked at him and he leaned into your hand, his own coming up to hold your touch to him as his eyes closed and a happy sigh slipped from him, showing just how much he had missed you in his blinding rage. 

“I have never seen you as weak, Tommy. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I-It’s so hard. I feel trapped, I have all this anger and energy and I’m spending all day just waiting for news and there is none. I can’t go anywhere!” You raised your other hand, bringing it up to his face, thumbs smoothing over his skin and wiping the tears away as they finally leaked from his eyes. “I’m so hopped up on adrenaline all the time and I can’t run, because we’re trying to keep a low profile, and I have so much fucking stress that I can’t even sleep at night and my hands won’t stop shaking and I have no way to take it out and I ju-”

“Take it out on me.”

His eyes snapped open, fear taking over his body as he backed away from you, the tremble in his hands spreading across his whole body as he backed away. “What? What are you talking about?” He didn’t understand, and he feared for you, his hands clenched by his sides as you closed the door behind you, the soft click echoing from the walls.

When you reached for his hand, he snatched it away, backing up into the wall and you stepped closer, taking his shaking fist in your hand as you delicately unfurled his fingers, his hand laying open and flat in yours. “Your anger and your stress, Tommy.” Taking his hand, you placed it on your waist gently, his fingers curling around your body and twitching against you. “There are more ways to burn off all your extra energy than getting angry or running.”

He was nervous, his eyes scanning over every inch of your face as he assessed the situation, and he raised his other hand, fingers tucking under the edge of your top to rest against your flushed skin, goosebumps rising over your body at the fell of his sorely missed touch. “I’ve missed you so much.” He brought his hand up, tucking hair behind your ear delicately as he held himself back, struggling to hold back his urges and his entire body was oozing pent up rage and energy, his foot tapping against the carpet subconsciously, his fingers on your body flexing absentmindedly as he gnawed on his lower lip. “I can’t, I could hurt you.”

You let out a small laugh, raising your hands to cup his cheeks, trying to pull his face down as he resisted, and you rolled up onto the balls of your feet instead, your noses bumping and brushing. He sucked in a breath, your own fanning over his cheeks as your lips practically brushed, his grip on you tightening as he pressed down what he really wanted to let out. “I can take it, Tommy. Give me all you’ve got.”

His eyes lingered on yours for a split second, before he had spun you around, your back pressed to the wall as his body fell flat against yours, his lips working over yours and stealing every breath from your lungs. His touch was relentless, your shocked gasps swallowed by him as his tongue traced your closed lips, sucking your bottom one into his mouth to part them. 

Your fingers tugged at the bottom of his shirt, a chuckle on his lips as you whimpered and he lifted it up, his hands leaving your waist as he helped you to discard the material over his head, throwing it away across the room as you hands skimmed along his chest. His fingers wrapped around your wrists tightly, pausing your movements as he lifted them up, holding them above your head and pinning them to the wall. 

“Keep these here until I tell you otherwise.” His words were spoken deep and low, and you whined, nodding in acknowledgement. His fingers moved down to play with the waistband on your denim shorts, fingers easily popping the button on the stiff material and easing the zipper down. Sliding his hands lower, the digits of his fingers pressed through the cotton to press against your clothed clit, nail scratching lightly over the covered nub as your hips jumped up. 

“Shit, Tommy..” Your arms buckled at the elbow, falling down the wall as your hips twitched when he started rubbing slow circles with his fingers. 

“Hands up for me, I like the way your tits look when you stretch your arms up.” He mumbled the words against your flesh as he trailed his kisses down and along your jaw, licking and sucking at your skin as he went. You stretched them back up, ignoring the ache in your muscles, your mind blanking as his fingers pushed aside the material of your panties, swiping through your slick folds and swirling around your entrance.

Pushing a single digit into your core, a whine fell from you, your head tipping back to rest against the wall, a small ‘thud’ sounding at the impact and he growled when he couldn't push your top any further to the side, anger flooding him once again. “This is in my way.” He tugged at the hemline of your top with his teeth, before pulling away from you and you nodded. 

“Do you want me to-” He pulled his hand from your pants, two hands attaching to the neckline as he pulled roughly, tearing the fabric straight down the middle and you couldn't hold back the moan you let out at the action.  “Oh, or just do that.. shit..”

He grinned, hands pushing your sports bra up over your breasts to expose them to the cold air and you whimpered, his hand finding home between your thighs again as he pushed two fingers into you, pumping them quickly as you spasmed in his grasp. His lips sealed around one of your nipples, lapping leisurely at the bud and grunting as your fingers squeezed around him, the sounds he was drawing from you were echoing from the walls of the room. 

His free hand smoothed up from your waist, his mouth switching breasts and his fingertips moved up over your arms, lacing his hand together with one of yours, pinned to the wall above your head as he brought his lips back up along your neck. He was sucking gently at your jaw, your breathing getting quicker as your eyes squeezed shut, pleasure surging through you. His fingers pumped rapidly, the heel of his hand creating a delicious friction against your clit as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. 

You rolled up onto your tiptoes, squeaks and cries leaving you and your chest pressed up against his, hot air fanning over your neck as you moved towards your climax. “Tommy, I’m..”

“Not yet, you’re not. I don’t need you getting tired out before we really have some fun.” He smirked, pulling his hand back from your pants and sucking his fingers into his mouth to clean them, nodding his head to your shorts, still hanging open and his hand left yours. Sliding your hands down the wall, you shakily dropped your shorts to the ground, kicking off your boots and socks as you tried to strip yourself down before him, his dark gaze on you as you let the shredded material of your top drop away, your sports bra soon following it. 

He palmed himself through his jeans, and you lunged up into him, pressing your lips to his and you fumbled with his belt, tugging his jeans down until they fell to the floor, his boxers following and he kicked off the rest of his clothes, the air between the two of you hot and heavy as your fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking his hard member as precum dribbled over your fingers. “Can’t wait to bury myself inside you, been thinking about it for so long.” He whispered, your lips leaving his and he cupped your cheeks, pulling your face back to meet his as his tongue pushed past the seam of your lips, tangling with yours in a wet and sloppy kiss. 

He was dominating you in every way, and when you felt your back meet the wall once again, you had barely heard the word ‘jump’ fall from him before you were launching yourself into his arms, his large hands gripping your thighs as your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock sliding through your folds. 

Lining himself up, he eased himself into you, your eyes rolling back as he sank deeper and deeper into your tight hole, a low groan falling from him as his forehead fell to your shoulder. “You’re so tight, fuck..” 

“Well, you know, it’s been quite a while since I last slept with anyone.” You teased, the dark look on his face lightening just a tad as he let the corners of his lips pull up, shaking his head slightly. 

“Shut up and kiss me.” You grinned, your lips finding his as he set a slow rhythm, his hips pulling back from yours as he eased himself in and out of you, both of you settling into the feeling, his pace picking up. Your lips slanted across his, and he happily welcomed your touch, his lips parting as he deepened the kiss with you. 

Your arms looped around his neck, fingers weaving into his hair, tugging on fistfuls of it as he growled into your mouth, lips moving harsher against yours as his hips snapped up into yours. Pulling you away from the wall, he placed you down on the edge of the desk, his hand sliding up your stomach to sit between your breasts as he pushed you down, your back meeting the wood of the table. He was stretching you out in all new ways and tapping all new spots, and your jaw hung open, silent sounds never making it to his ears. 

With hands still on you, he leaned back, just far enough to watch as he fucked into you, his wet cock slipping in and out of you perfectly, your walls hugging around him and squeezing him just right. You were already wound up and close, and as his fingers slipped down to pinch at your clit cheekily your back arched up from the wood. Your fingers raked along it, sure you were tearing tracks into the desk surface as he muttered under his breath. 

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Look at your pussy, taking my cock like a fucking pro, you’re so wet, dripping out onto the desk for me.” Your arousal was coated along the insides of your thighs, his face faltering as your walls tightened around him, curses leaving him. He pushed forward, your hips slapping together harshly as he pushed against that special spot inside of you and stars exploded behind your eyes, a long cry of his name leaving you as you shook. 

He rode it out, hands holding you to the desk as he slowed his thrusts, before he found your shoulders, pulling you to sit up for him as he slipped his members form you, your thighs trembling as you sat up, every muscle in your body feeling like jelly. His hands skimmed along under your legs, pulling you until your ass was just barely on the desk and his lips lid over yours, panting and needy kisses being drawn from you and when he stepped closer, the head of his cock pressed up against your clit, your body twitching with sensitivity as you jumped back, yelping at the stimulation. 

A dark chuckle left him as he pulled you to your feet, hands cupping your cheeks as his fingers ran over your skin slowly, his eyes hooded as he looked down at you. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. I thought you said you could handle it?”

Before you even had a chance to reply, the front of your hips were pressed into the wood as he turned you around, a hand in the back of your hair pushing you face down into the desk and you barely had time to catch yourself, your hands fumbling to find the edge of the surface and hold on. His foot between yours kicked your legs apart, and your breasts were rubbing up against the cold surface, the sensation shooting straight to your core and you shook at the way he was handling you. 

He dragged the tip of his cock through your folds, sinking forwards with one rough and fast thrust, filling you up again instantly and you cried out, biting down on your lip in pure pleasure as he set a fast pace, the hand in your hair tightening and pulling as he bent over you. Your nails were digging into the wood as your fingers curled around the edges of the desk, holding you for support, and he let his hands find your hips, before one slid around to grope at your ass cheek. 

Moans were falling wantonly from your lips as he fucked into you, a sheen of sweat coating your body as you were pushed closer and closer to another climax, your brain going hazy and all you could focus on was the feeling of him ramming into you rapidly, tapping against your g-spot with every thrust as he worked out all his pent up energy. You knew you’d be sore in the morning, you’d be covered in hickies and bruises but it would be worth it because God, if it wasn’t the best you had ever felt.

His hands slipped up to your hair again, tugging at the strands and your scalp stung as he tugged you up until your back met his chest, his hands sliding around the front of your body to roll your nipples between his thumb and index finger. Your head lolled back onto his shoulder as your eyes rolled back in your head, and he bit at your ear lobe gently. “Get ready.”

You couldn’t even process the words, but a scream tore from your lips as he picked up his pace, the aggression showing through with the ferocity of his thrusts, and a scream left your lips, his name mixed with pleads and begs as your whole body shook and spasmed in his grasp, your own name grunted into your ear as you felt him throb within you, cock pulsing and twitching against your walls as he neared you both to a climax you’d never forget. 

His hand came up, squeezing around your neck lightly as the other trailed along your body, your screams silenced as he squeezed at your neck, and he slapped your abused bud once, your body hurtling over the edge into wave after wave of pleasure as he fucked you through it, loud shouts leaving him before he suddenly pulled out, your arousal gushing from you, strings of your essence connecting his cock to your glistening hole as he grunted, moaning lowly and shooting cum across your back and legs, the wet sounds of him working over himself sounding out as he came and your knees buckled as you braced yourself on the desk. 

Your mind was fuzzy, the aching between your legs and pounding in your heart was all that made sense, and despite it all, you still wanted him, you need him. You could barely clench your thighs for the over-stimulation but the burning in your stomach told you that you needed more, and you heard as he collapsed back against the bed, the fabric of your torn shirt being brushed against your back as he cleaned you up tiredly. 

His legs were parted, cock still hard and resting against his stomach as he panted wildly, sweaty with his hair matted to his forehead as he leaned back on his elbows, a shaky laugh leaving him. You could feel your own nectar dripping down your thighs, coating the insides of your legs as your need for him continued to eat away at you and you stood either side of his legs, one hand finding his chest as you leaned over him, the other wrapping around his cock gently, and he hissed. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m still sen-”

“Still sensitive? Now you know how it feels.” His hips bucked up into your grip, and with you a wink you ran your thumb over the swollen head, swiping away the cum still dribbling there and lifting it to your lips to clean it. Straddling him, you shivered, the shake running along your whole body as the red tip nudged against your throbbing bud, before you sank yourself down onto his cock, the delicious overstimulation and stretching he gave you was already making you call out his name, and he snapped to sit up, hands finding your hips as he whimpered your name to you.

Your hands pushed his chest down, until he was lying in the sheets, your hands landing either side of his head and your knees on either side of his hips as you rocked back into him, and he growled lowly, shaking his head. With feet planted firmly on the floor, he rocked his hips up into yours, the sounds he loved so much leaving you and he repeated the action, your arms weakening at the way he fucked you.

Your vision was blacking out, eyes in the back of your head and your jaw ached as it hung slack, and your body was tingling, muscles aching as they tightened and you wanted to clamp your thighs together, the feeling all too much but at the same time you needed more, and when his hands found your hips, slamming you back down onto his cock in time with his thrusts, you found. 

You wouldn't be surprised if the whole camp could hear his name being screamed from your lips at this point, your voice getting higher and higher and you got closer to your edge and his voice was deep and raspy, shouting your name loudly as you clenched around him so tightly he could barely move.

His mouth pressed to yours, and it could barely be described as a kiss. It was a sloppy mess of tongues and lips dragging against each other, panting and crying into each other’s mouths as it all became too much as you fell over the edge, more like catapulted, the feeling different to other times and you jerked roughly in his arms, arousal splashing from you, the dirtiest sound you had ever heard Thomas make leaving him as he screamed. Pulling out of you suddenly, his load coated both of your stomachs between you, your arousal still leaving you as you clung to him, soaking his body and yours, dripping between the sheets.

He let you roll to the side, your eyes still rolled back in your head, a lazy smile on your lips as you twitched and whimpered, and he groaned at the sight, his cum painted across both of your bodies. He wiped a hand over his face, grinning exhaustively and his body ached, but he had never felt better. 

You had been right, he was calm and relaxed, his mind was clear and he was happy. He reached for the ragged piece of material that had been your shirt, wiping you both down before tugging his boxers back up his legs, a low groan leaving him as the fabric brushed against his stimulated and sensitive member. Grabbing your panties, he tugged them up your legs gently for you, a soft smile on your lips, eyes shut as he lifted your hips to secure them around your waist, pressing a kiss to your hip bone before collapsing beside you. 

You were grinning, eyes closed as you lay in his sheets, the sunlight from the window illuminating you perfectly in all your sweaty, messy, post-sex daze. He could see the disturbed dust dancing in the air, the sounds of your slowing breaths easing him into comfort and he reached out for you, brushing matted hair from your skin and you cracked an eye open to look at him, the other soon following as you turned on your side.

You raised an arm, bending it as your elbow dug into the sheets, your cheek resting on your palm as you looked at him. “How do you feel?”

“Fucking fantastic.” He was beaming, letting himself fall onto his back, letting out a soft sigh before holding his arms out to you. “C’mere. I wan’ hold you.” Without any argument, you snuggled into his embrace, the smell of sweat and sex sticking to his skin, undoubtedly on yours too, but you didn’t care. Instead, you rose your finger sup, weaving them through your knotty hair gently as you let your thoughts run slowly, peace taking over the room.

It was quiet around you, the sounds of everybody moving about further down in the camp just about reaching your ears, muffled by the walls and the distance, but you could still make out happy laughs and yells as the went about. Your mind drifted to the boy who was half-snoozing tiredly beside you, wishing he could let himself be that joyful and carefree, he deserved it.

When you had finished untangling your own hair, you moved to play with his, a content hum leaving him as you did and he nuzzled into you more, his lips pressing little kisses to the exposed skin he could reach when he turned his head towards you more, and you got lost in your mind once again, drifting away as you thought sadly about the map, the plan that kept falling through with errors, as you worked over it in your tired and muddled mind.

“Oh, my God.”

“I know.” He grinned, and you slapped his chest as he leaned over to kiss at you forehead but you shot up, your jaw slack and eyes wide, your mind spinning. 

“Oh, my God.” You shot up, slinging the sheets back from your form as you scrambled around in the discarded clothes on the floor. 

You pulled your panties and shorts on, grabbing the first top you saw tugging it over your head, not even bothering with your bra or socks as you reprocessed the idea on your mind, spinning around and around on a loop as you tried to find any flaws, but you couldn’t and a smile broke out on your face, the widest Thomas had seen in a long, long time. He propped himself up on his elbows as he watched you, making your way to the door when he cleared his throat, his eyebrows raised as your eyes came to meet his. 

You were mumbling, so quickly and quietly he couldn't make out what you were saying but you silenced as you looked at him. “I’ve got it!”

He was only more confused as you left, leaving the door wide open as you dashed quickly towards the main room, screaming out to all the others you saw as you went that ‘you had it’, before he finally realised where you were going and what you were talking about, and he fell from the bed in a bid to follow you hurriedly. By the time Thomas had got there, you were holding Newt’s hands in a bowl shape as you dropped all the little markers into his palms, smoothing out the map and Thomas had his jacket pulled over his bare shoulders, his shirt hanging on your body and he struggled to do up his belt as he stumbled into the room. 

Newt looked over him, a smirk on his lips and Thomas blushed as everyone suppressed their snickers and looks, but he was focused on you, and you were far too focused on your eyes moving so quickly over the map he was surprised you weren’t dizzying yourself. “Okay, okay, okay.. so, um, well, we decided we’d have to have someone break into the train, right?”

Everybody was looking at you, nodding carefully as if to ask you exactly where you were planning on going with this, currently only being reminded of their failure.

“Well, let’s just take the whole carriage.” The hopeful looks around the room fell, replaced by irritated glares and your shoulders sagged, but you refused to be deterred by it. Brenda rubbed a hand over her face, sighing, and Vince laughed condescendingly, hands falling to his hips, while Newt looked at you disapprovingly, as though you were joking. “Seriously, just- just hear me out, okay?”

“I’ll listen, pequeña.” Jorge motioned forwards, and you shot him a grateful smile as he took on all the glares simply for encouraging you.

“Right, well correct me if I’m confused, but the very front carriage is the drivers, right? And the one behind it is soldiers and guards? Yeah?” You looked around, watching as they all nodded, and you grinned, looking back to the table and smoothing your hands over the map. “The two behind that are always supplies, for wherever the fuck they’re going. The last three are kids they’ve taken. Minho. Now, the trains are always supported by an airborne guard too, yeah?”

Vince let out a groan at your words, his head dropping forward in frustration and you scowled at his reaction. “Exactly, there are eyes in the sky and on the ground, we can’t get past the berg. This is pointless!”

“No, no! Our eyes in the skies are part of it!” You held your hands up, finally reaching for the items Newt was still patiently holding as you positioned them out before you, placing them perfectly to you’re liking and they all waited, even more confused than before. “Okay, so let's call it Team A, Team B and Team C, right? Team A and B are in cars, on either side of the train, and Team A is going to draw away the berg, because Team B is going to drive along the tracks behind the train and jump on board, they won't shoot at you because they won’t risk losing the kids, they need them!” 

You placed down the two small stones you had signifying the cars on either side of your train figure, and Newt nodded, looking down at the map. “Okay, but Team A is now being shot at by the berg, with nowhere to go?”

“There isn’t anywhere to go, and that’s what we need! Lead them into thinking we’re trapped, but we aren’t because hiding out is Team C-” You dragged your finger, across the map, pointing at a random spot and tapping the digit against the paper. “When the berg lands to arrest Team A, guards will come piling out! Team C then comes out and we take it! There’s what, four guards and a pilot, against Team A and C?”

You held up your hands, looking around everyone as they all continued to look at you, confused faces all around as they tried to process your thoughts. “I’m still not seeing how this is helping, what about the train?” You looked up to the blond man, Vince with his eyebrows raised but he was judging and he was curious and you smacked your hand to your forehead, laughing at yourself.

“Oh, right, of course! While team A pulls away the sky threat, B are on the train! We get to the end of the carriages with the kids in and separate them from the rest of the train! The emergency clamps will slow them down almost instantly upon detachment, but the rest of the train will take a good minute to minute and a half to stop, and then the guards have to run all that distance back! That gives us, like, five minutes!” Newt groaned, dropping the pieces in his hand as his patience finally wore away.

“Five minutes? Five minutes to do what? Huh?” His accent was only thicker with his anger, and you swallowed, your confidence dwindling as you became discouraged, almost every person in the room looking at you like you were insane.

“To.. To get Minho, and Aris and Sonya..” Your voice trailed off, and you backed away from the table, your body curling in on itself nervously, but Jorge rubbed a hand over his head, stepping up and putting a hand down flat on the map as he looked over it.

“Hold on, I get it.” He nodded, thinking over as he lifted another one of the discarded parts to rest on the land alongside the train tracks shown on the map. “Find out which cart Minho’s in, weld the brakes on either side. Call it D-Team. Four of you, one on each clamp for the correct carriage, and another four with ropes! Get the box chained up, and by the time A-Team A and C-Team get back with the berg, we drop the hook and lift the box, B and D can just climb on for the ride home.”

“We can have cars waiting for everyone,” Brenda added, stepping forwards and a smile cracked it’s way through your upset look to take over as she spoke up, her eyes meeting yours as she winked at you, softly. “We drop the berg and box, get everyone out and cover our tracks, way before they can track us. Everyone gets back safe.”

Silence filled the room, seemingly for minutes as the three of you now looked around at the others, each one thinking over the incredible complex plan, again and again in their minds as they tried to find the problem, only coming up with obstacles that could be solved but no major fall-throughs.

“Kid, you’re fucking crazy. But you’re also crazy brave, and smart.” Vince eventually muttered, but he reached over, squeezing at your shoulder before crossing his arms, and you laughed, nodding your head slightly in confirmation. “I think it could work. Needs some tweaking, and it needs to be done fast, that train goes by in three days.”

Frypan’s eyes were wide, and he looped his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers as he looked down at the map, shocked. “We’re getting them back. We’re getting out friends back. We’re getting Minho back!”

Newt cheered loudly, holding his hands up in the air and letting out a disbelieving laugh. “We’re getting Minho back!” He moved towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he spun you around in a circle, your feet not touching the ground as he held you tightly. When you were placed down, the chatter about fixing any minor issues had already taken up, the group crowding around the small desk with such renewed fervour and enthusiasm that you were shocked at how quickly hope had filled their bodies once again.

Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back and turning you as Thomas looked down at you, a smile on his face for the first time in months as he held you tightly, lips parting and closing as he tried to work out what to say. “You are incredible!” He teased, and you laughed, ducking your head as a blush worked its way onto your cheeks. “God, I fucking lo-” As he spoke, your head looked up, eyes wide at the words he almost spoke and your heart was pumping wildly in your chest, but he cut himself off, closing his jaw and you felt sadness seep into every pore in your body, despite the joy surrounding you. 

Instead, he leaned forward, moving to place a kiss to your lips and you turned your head, his kiss meeting your cheek instead and he grunted, not being the intended place he was aiming for. Your stomach was twisting, nausea filling you at the idea of having been so intimate ad close with someone that couldn’t even tell you they loved you, that perhaps, no longer intended to be that person. 

It had been half a year ago that Thomas had told you he wanted to love you again, but in that time he’d barely held you or touched you, and a lot had changed, you had moved on, fought battles you had never imagined and overcome odds you had never seen coming. Perhaps, he no longer wanted what he had wanted then, he’d spent a lot of nights alone, sealed himself away from you to have had enough time to think about it.

As you unwrapped his arms from around your waist, his brows furrowed and you excused yourself from the group with the claims of needing some food before you gave yourself a headache, and you were soon slipping from the door. Before he could come after you, Thomas was called over to the table, and so instead he watched you walk away, not understanding where he had gone wrong. 

The sun was just beginning to set, casting oranges over the horizon and you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling exposed and dirty as you made your way back to his room. Picking up your bra, you tucked it into your pocket, stripping his top from your body and folding it, placing it neatly on the end of his bed before zipping your jacket up over your bare chest and snagging the torn fabric of your top from the floor.

You disposed of it along the way to where you had chosen to sleep, plucking a fresh top from a pile of supplies available to anyone, and when you finally closed the door behind you, you dropped your bra onto the small chair in the corner of the room. Toeing off your boots, you tugged the top over your head, dropping the denim around your waist to the floor before crawling under your sheets, a saddened sigh leaving you.

You couldn’t dwell and Thomas and his feelings for you, or lack thereof, because in a few days, you would have Aris and Sonya back in your arms, you would have Minho back, and you would finally be able to rest, because lord knows you’d been through enough in your lifetime. You were ready to hold your friends again, you were ready to find the safe haven, and live out the rest of your days peacefully and quietly.

With a clear mind and a light heart, you were able to drift off with thoughts of where you would be a week from now.

[fulisha-of-light]

Soma Voice Lines

Borrowed from @muffinrecord

Here’s my take so I can practice writing his voice. In retrospect, they come off as rather sad since he doesn’t know ugly truth ;o;

Intro Self Introduction 1: Ah, Hello! My name's Soma, and I’m from Tomoyoko City. I don't remember my last name, but I'm sure it'll come back sooner or later, haha. Hopefully I can remember everything else about myself too... actually, can I ask you something? Have you ever heard of a magical girl called the Sibyl? Self Introduction 2: I'm just a magical boy from Tomoyoko, probably the only one at the moment. But just because I'm a boy, doesn't mean I can't fight like everyone else!

Personal Story Story Chapter End 1 It’s hard dealing with other magical girls. I feel like I shouldn’t even be here talking to them. Story Chapter End 2 Looks like it’s back to square one. *Sigh* How frustrating... Story Chapter End 3 I’m not gonna rest until I find out the truth about the Sibyl. I just can’t go on like this.

Story Select 1 I can fight too! Just give me a chance! Story Select 2 The Sibyl of Tomoyoko... Just who is she...? Story Select 3 H-hey, hold on a second Misha! I'm not sure if I'm ready for this lesson yet! Story Select 4 Stop poking me Kiki, I'm not that cute! Hey, that tickles! *Laughs* Cut it out! Story Select 5 Why was I chosen? What makes me so special? Story Select 6 If I can just remember something, anything...

Stats Strengthening Complete: Huh. I think I’m getting better at this. Let’s see what I can do now. Strengthening Max: Wow, I never thought I get this far. Maybe I can actually do this!

Episode Level Up: I’m finally getting somewhere with this investigation. Magia Level Up: I feel a little... lighter. Like I can do anything. I think Misha’s training is finally paying off.

Magical Release 1: It’s difficult to learn about magic and control it, but everyday pushes me to work harder to recover my memories and find her. Magical Release 2: Witches are born from curses, yet I can create them from my magic. Well, distorted ones anyway. But I just don’t understand. Why would I have this power? Is it because of her...?  Magical Release 3: I think my reason for wanting to find the Sibyl goes beyond recovering my memories. We both must’ve had a reason for taking up this role. I want to know what she sees in me personally. If I know that, then I think I can keep fighting.

Awaken 1: I know some parts of Tomoyoko like the back of my hand, but everything else is a complete blank. There’s gotta be a reason for that. Awaken 2: Is it because I don’t want to remember? Is that it? Or am I protecting myself from someone, or something? Perhaps there’s a lot more going on around here than I initially thought... Awaken 3: I’d like the chance to become normal again, but I’ve gained so much from this experience. It wouldn’t be right for me to give it all up and go back. Do I really want to be a magical boy? Or should I be a normal person?

Home Screen Login (First login): Hey, how's it going? Ready to start investigating? We're slowly making progress, but I'm sure we'll find a lead on the Sibyl this time. Login (Morning): Yawwwwn... Mornin'. Looks like you slept well. Me, I just feel super groggy. Give me a quick drink and I'll start perking up here again soon. Login (Noon): Huh? Noon already? I thought we had more time... Oh well. Where should we have lunch at? It's your call. We'll join up with Misha and the others there once you've decided. Let’s discuss our findings there too. Login (Evening): Everything always seems to get quiet around this time. Not that I mind, I like that kind of atmosphere. Quiet enough to relax and think... maybe I'll just close my eyes for a minute... Zzz... Login (Night): Hmmm, nothing huh? Well there’s always tomorrow. Maybe we’ll find the Sibyl then after we get some rest. Login (Other): Sometimes I wonder if it's fate that I became a magical boy. What was my life like before? Would things turn out differently if the Sibyl wished for something else? I can't help but think about that sometimes. Login (AP full): You ready? We need to stick together and cover each other’s backs. A Witch or Familiar could try to sneak up on one of us. Misha taught me that one. Login (BP full): It feels wrong for me to hit girls, but Misha says I have to prepare to fight and defend myself from anything, especially other magical girls. I still feel bad for hitting them, even if they’re just a bunch of copies. Sorry.

Tap 1: The Sibyl of Tomoyoko is said to be an incredibly powerful and wise magical girl. She sounds amazing, but I think what makes her interesting to me is how she became the Sibyl. That’s what I really want to know. Tap 2: It’s hard working with girls when you’re the only guy in the group. Misha’s nice, and while Kiki can get annoying sometimes, Chiaki’s just outright rude and doesn’t trust me. I wish she’d stop being so cold towards everyone. Tap 3: Kyubey says that I’m some kind of strange anomaly because he doesn’t make contracts with boys. I don’t like how he describes me like that... it almost sounds like something’s wrong with me. Tap 4: I don’t remember much about myself, but I can tell you about Tomoyoko at least. If you wanna swim or relax in the sun, you head south. If you want to immerse yourself in history and community, then you go north. As for central... it’s the place that bridges it together. Tap 5: They say a wish is a miracle, something that can help others and bring hope. But Kyubey can’t grant mine, and I have no idea what I’d ask for. The Sibyl thought of making me join her, but I still wonder if it’s something I really wanted. Tap 6: Some people don’t think too highly of Mr. Shinoda, my home room teacher. Rumors say he’s gotten in trouble with the law and is a real creep, but I don’t get that vibe from him. He seems like a pretty sensitive and kind-hearted guy to me. But I’m not sure why I think that though. Tap 7: I wish I could pick a different outfit. Having all of these belts on me makes me feel like I’m being restrained. Is there a way to change it into something else? Maybe I should ask Misha about it. All after, she’s the one with the most experience in magic. Tap 8: I think that, even if I wasn't a magical boy, I'd still want to help out magical girls in any way I can. I don't like seeing others suffer, and I don't like being unable to do anything. Tap 9: Can I ask you something? Kiki and some girls at school say I have a cute face, but when I look at myself in a mirror, I don’t really see it. Do you think I’m cute? ...Gah, what a weird thing to say. Never mind, forget I asked! *Blush*

Battle Start: Come on, let’s go! Battle Victory 1: I did it! I can fight! Battle Victory 2: I’m ok! A little scared, but I can keep going. Battle Victory 3: I won’t let anything hold me back. I’ll get up and continue walking forward.

Doppel: Stop... please, stop... I don’t wanna die... Dying: Help me... it hurts...

I think it could use a little more work, but it’s good enough atm. I’d make a Personal Memoria, but I don’t think I have a solid idea of it yet. I’d need to write his story to properly sort that out lol

[thiswasinevitableid]

75 for Indruck!! and either nsfw or sfw is chill

I went with SFW! 75 “I’m an insomniac who calls my best friend at 3am except I misdial on my landline and I tell you all about my nightmare before letting you talk and now I’m mortified but you don’t hang up

CW: mentions of pot and of death

Indrid awakens in a panic, flailing and falling onto the floor. This is why he doesn’t have a bedframe; the routine falling hurts less from a half foot of drop.

“Ouch.” He says to the empty room, the white noise machine doing nothing to soothe his nerves. Maybe if he stays very still, the nightmares can’t find him.

No. That’s not how this works. Maybe he should see if anyone is awake. He just needs another voice, to know someone can hear him if he screams for help.

He grabs the nearest phone, which happens to be the landline that came with his little studio, and dials Barclay’s number.

“H’lo?” 

“Hello, it’s, ah, it’s Indrid, I, I know it’s late, but I need to talk and you said I could call anytime so I am. I, it, it was the dream again. I’ve been staying up as late as can, not sleeping unless my body just sort of forces me too and I dropped off while drawing and it happened again, the one with the bridge this time, not the one with the car, and I, I fell, like I always do, but this time I, I didn’t, didn’t wake up when, when, when it happened. I’m sorry, just, please, can you talk with me awhile so I can remember I’m here?”

“Uhhhh, sure? But, uh, got a feelin’ you mighta mixed somethin up.”

Indrid’s fairly certain Barclay does not have a southern accent. 

“Oh, oh god, I’m sorry, I dialed wrong didn’t I?”

“Guess so? Don’t know any fella named Indrid, and I’m guessin’ you don’t know anyone named Duck, it’s a nickname.”

“No, I don’t” he curls his legs to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. I was still up, been tryin to beat this level.”

“Why didn’t you hang up?”

“‘Cause you sounded real fuckin scared.”

He was. He still is, his heart a deer still running from long-outrun wolves. 

“Are, uh, are you okay now?”

“I will be fine.”

“I mean, I ain’t a therapist or anythin’ like that but, uh, I can try to help somehow.”

“I’m afraid the only thing that may work is continuing to talk with me which, were I in your shoes, I would not want to do. Christ” he shivers, fumbles in the dark for his sweater, “I need a hug.”

“I can do that.”

“We’re on the phone.”

A small laugh, “no kiddin, here I thought we were at a Taco Bell. I was offerin’ to come over or, uh, wait, no, you better come here, think I might still be a little high so I shouldn’t drive.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“Nope. I live at 5547 Williamson, apartment 2B. Ring the buzzer and I’ll let you in.”

This is ridiculous, how does either of them know the other isn’t planning on wearing their skin as pajamas?

“I’ll see you there.” 

The walk gives him time to second guess himself, then second guess that second guess, and so on until he reaches the three story building that clearly used to be one, family home. He rings the bell for 2B. No one will come down, Duck is probably asleep, or has realized how dangerous his suggestion is.

“Who is it?” The same drawl from the phone, now through the door.

“Indrid. From the phone.”

“Howdy, Indrid from the phone.” Duck opens the door, looking better than Indrid dared imagine. They’re about the same age, dark hair with fading streaks of blue falls about a round face, a stocky frame looks singularly nice to lay against.

“C’mon up. Tried callin’ you a little while ago to see if you wanted me to order food or somethin, but since you didn’t answer think we’re gonna have to settle for leftover pizza for now.”

“That’s, ah, that’s fine. And that was a landline I called from, hence the lack of response.”

“Jesus” Duck giggles, “you still got one of those?”

“The previous renter left a lot of things behind, and whoever is paying that telephone bill hasn’t stopped so far. Oh, thanks.” He steps through the door Duck holds open, finds a room much like his own; a messy studio full of the elements a single man needs to get by. A tiny T.V is linked up to an XBOX in the corner, and two hanging planters flourish by the windows. 

“Still want that hug?” Duck opens his arms.

Indrid nods, stepping into them, his own arms locked by his sides in case Duck doesn’t want to be touched. The shorter man is warm, his arms solid and strong, one holding Indrid’s shoulder blades so the other can run up and down his back. 

“You can hug back, I don’t mind.”

Indrid hugs his waist, “This isn’t weird to you?”

“Kinda? I dunno, I give damn good hugs and I don’t like seein’ people scared or hurtin, and you seem to need someone to be a little gentle with you. So, what the fuck, may as well hug you; knew I wasn’t gonna feel right if I hung up without offerin’. Besides, that dream sounded fuckin’ awful.”

“It is, its’ that way every time. So is the other one, and the one after that.” Indrid curls inward, as if he could somehow squeeze his nearly six foot frame to fit snugly under Duck’s chin, “I, they aren’t just dreams, either. I have what you call very bad luck with death. My mother died in a car accident when I was seven, with me in the backseat. My father died in a freak bridge collapse, again with me only barely surviving. Then my best friend drowned when we were swimming.” He shudders, images flooding back, “the dreams make me see it over and over in strange, altered versions, versions where I die, and they say you’re supposed to wake up before you die in a dream but tonight I didn’t, I felt my dream self die and I, I, I woke up so frightened.” he gasps, cringes to find tears slipping from under his glasses. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay man, here” Duck sits them down on the bed, Indrid now clinging to him, “don’t worry, ain’t lettin go, you can keep talkin if you need.”

“I get so scared sometimes, like I’m an omen of doom and anyone who comes near me will die. And I know that’s ridiculous because the majority of people who’ve been close to me are still alive, but nights like this I wake up and watch the door and the windows because it feels like death is following me, waiting to grab me, and I’ll die frightened and alone and not be found for days until someone, one of the few who still cares for me, wonders why they haven’t heard from me and, andandand-” it’s sobs now, awkward and painful each time they push out of his chest. 

“Shhhhh” Duck pats his hair and Indrid wiggles closer, hoping his whine communicates the desperate hope he’ll do that again, touch him like he matters. What it does is knock them over, bed squishy under them.

“Hush, hush now, ain’t nothin like that gonna happen. No more talk of shadows, partly because I only sobered up like ten minutes ago and talkin about seein the grim reaper in the corner don’t play nice with that.”

‘“I, I’m s-sorry-”

“Hey, hey I was teasin’, tryin’ to see if I could make you laugh at me a little” Duck strokes his cheek with his thumb, voice warm as a summer morning and soothing as moonlight, “besides, even if somethin’ scary did show, you got the ‘hero of Kepler’ to protect you.”

“The, the what of what now?”

“Kepler’s the tiny town I grew up in. Both my folks were real respected and shit, dad was former marines, everyone assumed I was gonna grow up and fight the good fight. Instead I disappointed ‘em all by wantin’ to look after trees all day.” He mutters, looks sad, and Indrid can’t bear the sight and so he mimics him, places a hand on his cheek and pets it gently.

“Trees do far more good, and need far more help nowadays.”

“Thanks, ‘Drid. Oop, sorry, just kinda slipped out.”

“Nono, I like it, I’ve never had a nickname before. Or, ah, never had a good one, that is.”

“Well, you do now, because I like you and I say so.” Duck pets his side, making his sweater ride up and exposing a tattoo.

“Oh shit, that’s so fuckin’ cool.”

“Thank you, I did the design myself. That’s, ahd, that’s what I’m doing in town. I’m apprenticing to be a tattoo artist.”

“So. fuckin. Cool.” Duck draws a finger along the moth design, Indrid squirming a little when he does. It feels nice; unfamiliar, but nice. 

“You gotta tell me all about it.”

“Alright” Indrid sniffs and Duck, after flopping to the side of the bed and reaching beneath it, produces a tissue, “as long as you promise to tell me about those” he points to the row of succulents on the far wall.”

“Think I can handle that. Fuck, got cold in here.” He drags a blanket up over them and Indrid purrs at the warmth, snuggling up in his arms as Duck nuzzles his neck, “now, where were we…”

------------------------------------

Indrid wakes up with his glasses smushed to his face, a thick blanket wrapped around him, and the smell of coffee tickling his nose. He yawns, sits up and gets his bearings well enough to not be startled when Duck speaks.

“Mornin, sleepyhead.”

“Good morning.”

“Didn’t seem like you had more nightmares last night.” Duck pours two mugs of coffee.

“I didn’t. Your, ah, your presence helped immensely.”

“Maybe my true callin’ is a teddy bear, good for snugglin and keepin monsters away.”

“Perhaps.” He pads over to the little kitchen to join him. Takes the sugar when offered and dumps a large amount into his cup. 

“Hey, uh, this may be way off base, but, uh, I, uh, I feel like we really kinda clicked. Even accountin for the weird circumstances and the heightened emotions and shit. I coulda talked with you for days, and honestly the reason I kept holding you after that firs hug was because I felt so fuckin comfortable with you. Like you fit.”

“I felt the same.” Indrid stirs his coffee, unsure of how to ask for what he wants. 

“If, uh, if you ain’t busy tonight, do you wanna go out? With me?”

“On a date?” 

Duck suppresses a smile as he nods. 

“I’d like that so much.”

“Hell yeah.’ Duck hugs him and this time he hugs back instantly, giggling when the shorter man kisses his cheek and whispers, “and if you feel like it, happy to be your teddy bear tomorrow night, too.”

[bangtan-madi]

Hello, I love your writing, can you please do: 102. — RFA + how they are as parents?

Jaehee

I definitely see Jaehee as more of a structurally-strict parent.

Guidelines, boundaries, rules: they’re super important to her. After all, kids are happier when they know what parents expect, right? It also comes from the fact that, deep down, she’s a very anxious person. She puts in rules so her anxiety doesn’t cause her to flip-flop. The last thing she wants is for her nerves to rub off on her child in a way that makes them nervous, too.

However, Jaehee is not overly strict. She’s kind and tender. If her kid messes up or breaks a rule, she’s more the type to sit them down and ask them why they did that, what’s behind the action, why they’re suddenly acting out.

Her gentle nature definitely helps her when it comes to mothering. True, she expects certain things, but she’s not the type to get angry, even when nervous.

She never yells. You’ll never catch her shouting at her child, no matter what they’ve done. To her, that’s the opposite of helpful. Getting louder doesn’t prove your point.

She upholds standards so they’ll know how to survive in the world. Every rule comes from a place of love. She doesn’t make them up for no reason.

When they’re younger, she’s a bit harder on them, but that’s to show that the standards are there for a reason.

No, you can’t eat candy for breakfast. Why? Because it’s unhealthy.

No, you can’t sleepover at your friends’ house. Why? Because I don’t know their parents.

She might come off as overprotective, but trust me: it comes from a place of pure love. Her greatest fear is not being able to protect her baby. She’ll do everything in her power to make sure that fear never comes to fruition.

As they grow older, the rules are less strict but still existent.

Despite all the rules that sometimes create animosity between her and her child, you will find no bigger cheerleader than Jaehee. She’s at every practice, every recital, every event. Even work comes second to her baby. She’s that mom, the embarrassing one screaming their kid’s name and pulling them into a big hug, no matter their age.

Jumin

His parenting style is similar to Jaehee in a lot of ways.

From day one, his child knows what’s expected. There are ground rules and they will be enforced with a gentle hand.

However, unlike Jaehee, Jumin is more open to changing those rules if a good argument is made. This applies more to when his kid is older, but the last thing Jumin wants to do is constrict or suffocate his child.

This has to do a lot with his own upbringing. His father was a kind man, but Jumin always felt like he had to be perfect, otherwise the love would disappear.

He never wants his child to feel like that, so Jumin is open about his mistakes. He’s definitely the type of parent to apologize when he realizes he’s done something wrong, no matter the time of day. There have been times when he’s woken them up in the middle of the night to say he’s sorry.

Jumin doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time when it comes to being a dad. His kid knows that, and as they grow older, they do their best to be well-behaved.

The open-line of communication Jumin encourages keeps the house pretty level-headed. Fights are few and far between, and mostly sprout from heated debates.

Also, like Jaehee, Jumin is a huge cheerleader for his kid. But let’s be honest: everyone in the RFA is going to be crazy supportive and vocal for their kids. They just go about it in different ways.

Jumin, however, has the money and resources to put his kid in just about any hobby or interest they have.

One week they’re interested in horses? Guess who just signed them up for lessons with a world-class trainer?

Oh, and now they’re talking about swimming? Jumin’s already dialing his groundsman, inquiring about how much it would cost to turn the floor below the penthouse into an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

He never wants his kid to feel like they have to grow up to be just like him, or even have a little bit of interest in his company. All he wants is for them to be safe and happy; the rest can work itself out.

All in all, Jumin throws himself into being a father, giving 110% effort. For the first time in his life, work comes second, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Seven

And then there’s Seven. Oh boy.

If there ever was a father that’s the personification of a bad dad-joke, that’s Seven.

After just spewing headcanons for Jumin and Jaehee, this guy is…very different. Those two had rules for good reason, but Seven? He doesn’t really believe in rules. At all. That carries over into fatherhood.

Like, just be a good person, maybe wait until you’re older to break the law, and make sure you come to me if you get in trouble. That’s basically his attitude as far as rules are concerned.

It’s not that he doesn’t care. Trust me, he cares a fuckton. When you think about the horrible childhood he had, everything starts to make sense.

His mother had Seven and his brother out of wedlock, fathered by a powerful politician. She used them for money and abused them because she felt like it. The Choi boys never felt safe in their house, not once. They were always on edge and scared of the next outburst, worried as to when they might eat again, and fearful of the future.

Seven would rather die than have his kid go through anything like that. He takes it upon himself to provide everything, more than his kid could ever want. He’s definitely the type of dad to go way overboard with clothes, toys, treats, and basically everything.

He’s a goofy parent. When his child is a baby and toddler, he’s constantly doing silly things to make them laugh. Strange faces, weird voices, throwing himself on the floor or into the nearest piece of furniture, he’ll do just about anything to see them giggle and clap their hands.

He’s so animated, and that doesn’t go away when they get older. While Jaehee is the embarrassingly supportive mom, Seven is just plain embarrassing. He’s going to throw enormous birthday parties, holidays, graduations…Face it. Seven’s going to go waaay overboard for every occasion.

Because why not? He never celebrated anything when he was a kid, so now he puts everything into celebrating his little one.

Piggyback rides and shoulder rides are happening, whether his kid likes it or not. And he’s 100% the dad that throws their kid into the air, probably a little higher than he should. Spinning them around in circles, getting on the floor and playing horsie, breaking into tickle wars, Seven’s going to be a more physical kind of parent. Hugs, snuggles, naps, the whole shebang.

More than just being fun though, Seven wants to make sure that his kid’s needs are always taken care of. He never wants them to worry about anything: money, safety, food or water, affection, nothing.

This also transfers into being overprotective, although he’s not a helicopter parent. He has other ways of watching their every mood, such as CCTV cameras and tracking their cell. Not that he looks at what they’re doing on it, he respects their privacy, but he does like to know where they are at every second. Between his past and his job, no one can blame him.

Honestly, he might not tell them as much as he should due to the fact that he has a hard time with connection and emotions, but Seven is so freakin’ proud of his kid. They could do anything, be anything, and he’d be equally as proud of them. There isn’t anything they could do to change that.

Yoosung

Honestly, if you want the calmest and collective parent in the RFA, Yoosung is your best bet.

While he can be a little immature at times, having a kid of his own really caused Yoosung to step up and into his role as a father.

When they’re a baby, he’s both overprotective and insecure. Yoosung had a fairly average childhood with good parents, so he’s surprised when doubts of his abilities slip into his mind. Is he a good enough dad? What if he’s doing too much, or not enough? What if he makes a huge mistake and can’t fix it?

Over time, he realizes that he underestimated himself and that every parent has those doubts. He comes to terms that, while he isn’t his mom or dad, they gave him a stable childhood where he was able to grow up happy and content. So he tries his hardest to recreate that feeling for his own kid.

Happy-go-lucky in nature, Yoosung is definitely the kind of parent that’s still in touch with his childish side. Obviously, one of the biggest way he and his child bond is through video games. As they grow up, Yoosung buys them all the best for their age group. It becomes their thing, dad-bonding time as it were.

Another thing they bond over is food. After taking up cooking even more after becoming a father, Yoosung never ceases to take up even the most ridiculous food-related challenge from his kid. When they’re little, it often ends in absurd creations that both parties agree should never be recreated.

However, when his child gets older, it shifts into something they do on the weekends to de-stress and talk about their week. Yoosung is thankful for the helping hand and is happy to show off his self-taught tricks.

Open-dialogue is so important to him, as it is to basically everyone in the RFA. He’s constantly curious as to what his kid’s up to, what their friends are, what their hobbies are. He’s not overbearing or overprotective; he has no reason to be. He honestly just wants to know so he can relate to them better. He’s even been found reading up on something his kid mentioned in passing.

Definitely the kind of dad to offer up the house for sleepovers and play-dates, even into high school. The Kim household is a place where kids love to go. There are always sodas in the fridge, always junk food in the pantry, and always the newest video game tech ready in the living room. Because of his nature, Yoosung relates a lot to kids, even as he grows older.

Honestly, Yoosung just tries to be there for his child, no matter what they need. If that’s money for a trip, he’s got it covered in surplus. If it’s a night to relax after a long week of finals, he’s already prepped their favorite meal and rented a movie. If it’s a talk about something important, he’s already sitting on the sofa with open arms.

Zen

Besides Seven, I think the person with the most to prove–and the most to make up for–when it comes to fatherhood is Zen. His childhood was a joke. Between his mother constantly telling him he was ugly, to the brother that betrayed him, it’s no wonder he has doubts about having his own child.

But, by god, is he a natural.

Of all the members of the RFA, I think that Zen’s loving and caring nature makes him the most natural father. While the others had some maturing to do, or at least a shift in central focus, Zen is already there. He’s already mature, and he already puts others first. While becoming a dad stretches muscles he hasn’t had to use before, it’s nothing that doesn’t come easy to him.

A really big thing for Zen is assurance. He’s constantly telling his kid how good they’re doing, even before they can comprehend what that means. From the very first breath they take, to their first steps and first words, to their first day at school, and every little thing that follows: Zen will always tell his child how amazing they’re doing. Even if they mess up, he’s right there, complimenting them on how hard they tried and how he’s proud that they didn’t give up.

But more than just ability, Zen is insistently reassuring his kid about their looks. That’s a really important facet of mental health. He knows all too well how a parent can affect how a child views themselves. ‘Cause if he can help it, his kid is going to grow up with the best damn body image ever. He knows he can’t prevent every bad thought that finds its way into their head, but he’d be damned if he was the cause of a single one of those demons.

He’s constantly telling them how good they look. When they’re younger and still unable to pick out their clothes, he tells them they look adorable. When they’re older, toddler to elementary, he allows them to dress themselves, even takes them shopping when they want a new look.

Who the hell cares if they pick out something that doesn’t conform with gender stereotype, or something with clashing colors? They look fucking adorable in that Pokemon shirt and zebra-pattern tutu. Anyone even thinks about saying something about it? Good luck. They gotta deal with Papa Zen.

When they’re a pre-teen and teenager, that freedom of expression expands into hair and makeup. Whatever gender they are, Zen is more than happy to encourage them to do whatever the hell they want with both. I mean, it’s not as if his look is traditional, per se. Even as a father, who is he to tell his kid what they can and cannot do to their appearance? As long as it doesn’t hurt themselves or anyone else, he couldn’t care less. He thinks it’s awesome.

Zen applies that attitude to most areas of parenting. Rules and punishments, personal choices, successes and failures–whatever his kid does, as long as they’re not hurting themselves or others, he supports them.

It’s not to say he’s not involved. Oh, no. Quite the opposite. Zen’s an actor, and as such, he knows how hard it can be for the world to accept someone that’s out of the ordinary (or what he would call extraordinary.) Whether that be a styling choice or a career choice or a romance choice, Zen will always be involved in his kid’s life. Never as an opposing force. Always as a supporting hand.

Basically, when it comes down to it, Zen is going to be the kindest, most supportive dad ever. His kid is going to know from day-one that Zen is always in their corner, and that if there’s anything they’re interested in or need help with, they can go to him. If they have problems, Zen is there to help. If they want to go after a dream that everyone says is impossible…Well, you know Zen is going to be right beside them, encouraging them to make their mark on the world.