#that's why everyone gets TWO snippets! >:D

[zomtart]

Chapter 1: Morphine and Lavender (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)

okay this is terrifying but hi I am going to share some of my writing! this is just a snippet I wrote cause Frank is always on the brain. thank you tuna team for the encouragement <3

content warnings: hospital, canon-typical violence/gore, mentions of needles, language

word count: 1.1k

Frank was beginning to think they had left him in there to die when he heard a knock. You opened the door with a huff, brushing your hair out of your face before giving Frank a curt nod.

“Alright, hi, sorry, I know I’m not your assigned nurse but everyone in my unit decided to take lunch at the same time, so you are stuck with me at the moment.” you mumbled, barely looking up at Frank as you wheeled your computer stand to his side. You stayed outside of the duct-taped line, but it didn’t seem to bother you much. In fact, you didn’t seem bothered at all. Frank’s eyebrows furrowed together as you pulled up his medical profile, searching for his name.

“Okay, you are Mr…Castle?” you asked, the sound of your mouse clicking echoing in the small hospital room.

He blinked, dumbfounded. “...yes ma’am.”

You nodded, your relaxed (but rather exhausted) expression staying constant even as you said the name that was headlining every newspaper in New York. 

“Mr. Castle, could you give me a pain rating on a scale of 1-10?”

He blinked again. He felt like he had fallen into some sort of alternate universe. His assigned nurse hadn’t talked to him in the few days he’d been here, much less give him treatment he’d give another patient. An innocent patient. 

“Mr. Castle?” you repeated. 

“Right--uh…five.” he said quietly.

At that, you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down slowly. You eyed the numerous bruises, cuts, and scars he was no doubt covered in, and asked, “That your final answer?” 

Something like a smile itched at his lips, but he forced it down. “...yes.” 

You shrugged, typing something into your computer. “Alright, well at least the painkillers are doing something. I’ll make sure to get a refill for that--” you paused as you looked at the full IV bag of morphine, following the IV down to…the floor.

You grabbed at the IV, looking at the wire and then back to Frank. “Did you yank this out?”

“No, ma’am.”

“The fuck?” you murmured, before understanding seemed to dawn on you. The cuffs, the bright red line of tape, the bruises on his face. Frank waited for disgust, for you to become terrified, for you to spit in his face. Instead, you stubbornly set your jaw and walked back to your computer. 

“Who the hell is your nurse?” you sounded furious, but it didn’t seem aimed at him.

Frank, through his confusion, could only shrug.

You rapidly typed at the keyboard, eyes running up and down the screen. Then you stopped scrolling, eyes narrowing. “Did he have blonde hair? Eagle tattoo on his forearm?”

Frank vaguely remembered the eyes of an eagle staring back at him as he faded in and out consciousness from the pain, a man with blonde hair sneering down at him. He nodded. 

“...motherfucker.” you all but growled, and the sound turned into a jagged laugh. You threw your hands up. “Aaron. Of course it--god fucking…damnit--”

Frank felt he was obligated to ask, or maybe his curiosity got the best of him. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

You laughed humorlessly again, words tumbling out of your mouth. “Oh yeah. I’m just peachy. I haven’t slept in two days, haven’t been in my own bed in almost a week, and all because I need to take extra shifts. Why do I need to take extra shifts? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I decided to move to New York fucking City where an apartment room costs more than an arm and a leg! And just when I think--oh just when I think I’m gonna get that promotion? No. No, I lose it to Aaron, who won’t even do his goddamn job correctly!” you finished with a burst of gusto, before collapsing down into a chair.

You just sat there for a minute, face buried in your hands, and Frank wasn’t quite sure what to do besides give you the grace of silence. 

The absence of noise was quickly interrupted by your pager going off, and you reluctantly held it up to your vision before sighing and putting it back at your hip. It seemed to snap you back into reality, and you stood up and smoothed down your hair.

“I’m…very sorry about that Mr…” you glanced up at the computer again. “...Castle. I’m--that was unprofessional, it has just been a…very long week.”

Frank’s eyebrows furrowed. “...you really don’t know who I am?” 

You grabbed some gloves from the table and snapped them on. “Someone very humble, I see.”

That got him to laugh, a low rumble that made its way out of his throat. He…couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. It felt nice. Familiar, even after all this time. 

You shook your head with a small smile, grabbing the IV and sterilizing it. “No, I do not. I’m not even sure what day it is, to be honest.”

He nodded, stretching out his arm for you and making a fist. “But you…I mean they told you…somethin’, right? A warning?”

“I vaguely recall being told to stay behind the red line besides when absolutely necessary, yes.” you said, readying the needle. “Small pinch.” 

He stared, barely registering the sensation of the IV. “...so you…then why would you…?” He tried to find the answer in your face, but all he could see was concentration onyourtask. 

“Why would I…?” you repeated, waiting for him to continue. With the IV in his arm you took your gloves off, typing something on your computer.

“...I don’t know, you’re just being awfully kind.”

You pursed your lips, a hand going to your hip. “I’m not being kind, I’m doing my job. I took an oath to help people, no matter who they were, and that’s what I’m doing. Simple as that.” 

He grunted absentmindedly, his eyes flitting to the window. Ten stories down, New York raged on, lights flashing like fireworks. “Doesn’t seem simple.”

You shrugged. “It is to me.” you started wheeling out your computer. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Hopefully that IV will help. If that dipshit comes in here again, you tell him about nurse malpractice. You have constitutional rights, even if you are off robbing banks or whatnot.”

With that, you were gone, the faint scent of lavender left in your wake.

Frank blinked. “...robbing banks,” he mumbled before closing his eyes, letting the numb feeling of morphine finally lull him into sleep.

[felassan]

Snippets. 🐺💜 DA:TV spoilers under cut.

When the Community Council played the game, in the working version they played, it sounds like when the 'no dying' mode was turned on, when the player's health gets low the screen turns red (but you don't then die, of course) [source]

Caitie of Ghildirthalen shared that everyone that she talked to from the Community Council really liked the gameplay. "They were all into it, none of us had any complaints about how they were doing the gameplay, we all thought it was solid" [source]

The Lighthouse isn't literally an actual lighthouse by the sea. It's in the Crossroads. It's "like a bubble in the Crossroads, kind of like what Morrigan brings you to" in DA:I. "It's its own little bubble, it's not actually the Crossroads, it's like its own little bubble of reality." "It's not really in the Fade, but it kinda is, but it's kinda not". "It's so cool, I loved it so much [...] it's very comfy". It used to belong to Solas and "as you walk around there, you will see, like, stuff, that kinda shows what Solas has been up to for the past couple years" [source]

"They say in the [Game Informer cover] article that [The Lighthouse] like looks gaudy, and stuff, and like it does, in like an ancient elven way, but it's not like going to grandma's house which has that 2005 Tuscan kitchen feel." It sounds like there are a lot of frescos made by Solas in there. "It's kind of like, sad, too, 'cause it's a little bit like, ancient elven bachelor pad that he's been too busy to really keep up with it". "I think it's the coolest hub [in a DA game] by far" [source]

After the gameplay reveal video, Solas essentially gets trapped in the new prison he was trying to build for Ghil and Elgar'nan. "I don't think they explain it well in the [GI cover] article what happens, like, lore-wise, like how this connection between Solas and Rook one, works, and then two, like, how it's done. [...] From that [Community Council participation and talking to devs], I have a better understanding of this link, and I do think the explanation given [in-game] is good, and is satisfying to me. They're just not explaining it well in the article, I do think they give a better reason in the game"[source]

Caitie shared that she doesn't know why marketing for the game keeps saying/trying to say that Rook isn't a Chosen One as a talking point. "Maybe [Rook] wasn't chosen, [they] just happened to be there, but now there is a connection there, like [they] can't just leave, [they] have that strange Solas connection that nobody else has". "In this game Rook was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, or right place right time, depending on how you look at it, and it could have been anyone in that scene, that's kind've what they're trying to say" [source]

Photomode is something the devs expressed to Community Council that they want to include in the game [source]

User: "many of us would love to see cosplay kits again of the new companions. Just thought to throw that out into the ether" Trick: "Agreed! Definitely bring that up to official BioWare accounts. I think it's a great idea." [source]

John: "at this point my brain is about 70% DATV and 30% everything else" [source]

User: "I keep looking at that horn [Taash's blue one], thinking: 1. What -is- it made of?" Karin Weekes-West: "If only we knew!" [source] User: "If this turns out to be some high-value gemstone or crafting mat, I can't promise I'll be able to suppress certain... larcenous urges." Karin: "How very Lords of Fortune of you! :D <3 It really is SO PRETTY, isn’t it? Our art team is so good. :)" [source]

User: "I need to know if Rook gets their own room CAN WE DECORATE" Carly: ":^)" [source]

User: "anyway they [Neve and Harding] are both in this concept art. next to each other even. this has to mean they are both alive after the prologue. right? right???" Carly: ":^)" [source]

Kala: "the overall UI is very nice" [source]

Kala: "I remember the sliders [in CC] having pretty good range tbh, so probably pretty tall and pretty short" [source]

Kala: "I can't wait to learn who the VAs for Rook are! I know one and I know people will be really excited for this person to join the Dragon Age family 🤫" [source]

[tales-of-wocdes]

How would the ancient react to a mc who was reserved with everyone else but if they get to spend time with the ancient, the mc is far more open and soft with them. Just cause of the familiar sense of safety the Mc gets from them??

I am a bit wary of doing a POV for the Ancient, at least for a snippet :D. So I will write a snippet from the MC's point of view, and you are free to draw your own conclusions :D

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

It is your favorite time of the month. Because today is the day Grandpa Sheo visits you. And there he is, already waiting by the gate to the orphanage, black robes swaying a bit in the wind. The Silver Protectors on both sides are shifting a bit uncomfortably, throwing glances at the Ancient and each other.

You run up to the Ancient. Grandpa Sheo always exudes safety for you. He might actually magically exude safety, who knows really. Still, you have noticed how tense most adults get when the Ancient appears. As if expecting something bad to happen, but the Ancient is always the same. Blank faced and steady. Everything felt... more real when he was present. The void dared not encroach on you when he was nearby.

You peer up at him and do your best to smile. A rare thing for you but the Ancient brings with him safety and stability no one else does. These were the only moments, when you were sure this was not all a delusion. He peers back at you, his face never changing. Even your internal sense cannot make out what happens behind that face, but he saved you from the void. He is not what you would call nice excactly, but he is... something.

"Shall we go then." The Ancient asks and offers you a hand. A hand covered by a glove, not so different from the ones delivered to you.

You take the hand as best you can with your own gloved hand, and the two of you begin walking. Why the Ancient agreed to come have walks with you regularly is a mystery, but here he is. Because you kept asking for him? He is always on time, every month appearing right there by the gate to the orphanage.

He never speaks much on these walks but he does explain things you are curious about.... Though his explanations are sometimes odd.

Like... you heard at the orphanage some kids talk about how the moon was made of cheese... and when you asked Grandpa, he said "Not that one." and nothing else. Does that mean that there is a moon made of cheese somewhere?

Or once you asked him about what he does when he is traveling, and he said "Cleaning up." What does that mean? Is there a mess somewhere that needs cleaning up? Why does he need to clean it up?

But he also does things, like take you to Firgrat bay, and let you walk atop the ocean. Or underneath it. You saw a really big fish that was sort of scary. It was bigger than a building and had huge teeth. Grandpa asked if you wanted to eat it.....

You rather enjoy the walks with Grandpa.

[bropunzeling]

2 things:

i'm sat by every seattle au snippet. would you perchanceeee be willing to share any more. just a crumb

and what are your ratthew/mattdrai thoughts following yesterday's result

answering second question first: i personally am having a great time; i was rooting for the panthers and was happy i actually got to watch some games this year, especially because those games ended up being the hilarious blowout ones. i have high hopes both for matthew/sasha nation (the epic slow burns write themselves!!!!! i have a Mighty Need for like. five of them. where are they) and also fully intend to read too much into the matthew leon air quote "handshake" progression from last year!!! that said im ready for a new matchup next year 😂

and since you twisted my arm, here's another little snippet

The conversation turns to other things, Jordan and Yanni earnestly comparing the benefits of various preschools while the d-corps, in their typical fashion, all have their heads together at the other end of the table, talking about god-knows-what. Leon doesn’t have much to contribute about whether Montessori is worth it, so perhaps that’s why he gets stuck watching Matty arrive at the bar, watching Matthew slap him on the upper arm and turn to the smiling bartender and make the universal gesture for another round. Even from across the room, Leon can tell Matthew’s talking a mile a minute, drawing Matty into his previous conversation, and he can also see the way Matty sways in closer and away. Maybe the kid doesn’t need another round.

“Aw, look at them,” Will says, sliding his elbow along the table so he’s close enough to talk to Leon in an undertone, voice filled with sly amusement. “Rookie crushes, am I right?”

“What?” Leon asks back in the same low tone.

Will shrugs. “I mean, Chucky’s not a bad one to have. Though I’m a little offended it’s not me. I’m the one offering the kid food and shelter.”

“Yeah, but you have an ugly mug,” Soucy cuts in. “And you can’t score a goal to save your life.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Will says, elbowing Carson hard.

“Now, Chucky at least can score a sick goal. Or Drai. I mean, that’s the whole thing, right? The hockey is hot, they’re hot.” Carson nods like he’s won a debate, though Leon still hasn’t quite figured out what the parameters of said debate were in the first place. “Happens to everyone.”

“Does it?” Leon asks without meaning to, eyeing them both suspiciously.

“Yeah,” Carson says, gesturing with his drink. “You get called up, and you just kind of—you know. Latch onto a guy for a year or two, before you grow out of it. You know how it is.” Carson elbows Will. “Right?”

Will shrugs again. The secretive smirk from before has faded, replaced by an expression Leon has no hope of reading. When Leon looks around the table, the other guys clearly haven’t been listening—except for Adam, who briefly raises an eyebrow at Leon before turning to pay attention to Dumo. Leon doesn’t know what that means, either, but his ears and cheeks are growing hot. It might be time to switch to water.

“Alright, everyone,” someone announces. Matthew, returning with a tray full of beers and Matty in tow. He deposits Beniers into a chair, then starts distributing the bottles, sliding them along the table and making Carson curse when he nearly drops it. “One more toast for the birthday boy, yeah?”

Leon grabs his bottle, resisting the urge to hold the sweaty glass to his cheek, wishing he wasn’t noticing the way Matty stares up at Matthew with more than a little awe, or Adam’s small, subtle bemusement. He closes his eyes and starts swigging before the toast even begins. Water can wait.

[tinytalkingtina]

WIP Weekend

It's been a few months since I've done one of these. With the couple spicy events I was participating in concluding, time to come back to WIPs that have been giving me some trouble. Would love a distraction right now, so let's go! Updates

So about that sixth and final chapter of Soaring Symphony...yeah I haven't touched it in a hot minute whoops. I have a general idea of how I want it to go but haven't been able to motivate myself to do it. Hoping to finally get over the hump and start writing it again this weekend

Juggling two different fics set in the Running with the Devil role reversal track star!Eddie and metalhead!Steve universe: -The first is a 4+1 showing how Eddie rose in popularity over time, from the summer before high school to another party his senior year (and is kind of turning into a study on his friendship with Tommy and Carol, having fun with little-annie figuring out where everyone's heads are at during this timeline). -The second picks up right where the first one left off, with Eddie at his wit's end knocking on Steve's door after failing to outrun his gay thoughts.

Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I'll send you 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP!

🐲 Witch and Dragon Steddie Chapter 6

🏃Role reversal 4+1 aka track star eddie character study

👟Role reversal fic "Can We Talk"

Enjoy a snippet from "Can We Talk" below:

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie asked, unsure of what exactly he was doing on Steve's doorstep. With a nod, Steve let him in. Driving over, Eddie had half-convinced himself the person opening the door would be the towering mocking figure from his dreams. But the Steve who answered his knocks wasn’t wearing his boots; he stared sleepily at Eddie without the need to look down. Stripped of his usual layered outfit and accessories, he looked…vulnerable. Softer maybe, younger too. “I don’t usually deal at home, but I don’t need any neighbors sticking their fucking nose in my business and calling the cops this time of night,” he said, running a hand through his mussed-up hair. Eddie fought the urge to push down the cowlicks as Steve continued to mutter about rude neighbors.

“I’m…not here 'cause of weed.” His nerves finally gave out and he glanced downwards. That was a mistake, because his eyes landed on Steve’s completely bare hands. Oh G-d, he had tan lines on his fingers. Lines that had Eddie swooning like some heroine in those paperback romances Carol was always reading. He needed to stop staring it had been too long, Steve would notice. Maybe if he’d gotten something remotely close to a good night’s sleep anytime in the past month, Eddie might have stopped himself. But as he stared at those fingers, he felt the last threads of his self-control fray and finally snap. He grabbed onto Steve’s wrist and held on for dear life. “Woah, uh Munson, you okay there?” Steve didn’t pull away. “I—just…” He wasn’t letting go. Why wasn’t he letting go? “Eddie?” Steve knelt down, staring up at Eddie with sincere concern. Not a sneer anywhere to be found. Oh G-d, he looked— “Don’t punch me, please.” Eddie whispered. Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed Steve’s face and smashed their lips together. The taste of cigarettes and mint flooded his mouth. And for one blissful moment, his mind went completely silent.

No pressure tagging a few people to play too! (And if you see this and didn't get tagged by all means feel free to play too, happy to tag folks in the future :D) @little-annie @runninriot @augustjustice @solarmorrigan @dreamwatch @hairstevington @vthx

[shroombell]

I just want to let you know, that I absolutely adored your flight frame Sunstreaker au. Them both being split up and finding each other for the first time later in life makes me so emotional. Got anymore headcanons/doodles that we can see?

i was confused at first on which flight frame sunny au u meant 😭😭😭😭(i have far too many) but i think this is about the little fics i wrote (Thus Always To Tyrants and Like The Dawn)??

there is actually quite a bit of backstory that didn't make it into the very short snippet of the fic so i might as well share them!

the details of the twins' separation arent clear, just that they were really young and can't remember each other. sunny was found and raised by a seeker who wasn't exactly mean to them, but not warm either. someone who thought sunny's dreams were just that. when sunny was a bit older, they were handed over to the Vos Academy, a seeker boarding school.

sunny struggled to make friends at the Vos Academy, and majority of the noble children looked down on them for not coming from a wealthy background. Now a special thing about Vos Academy is that each year, one or two students get chosen to become an ambassador/representative of Vos (for the state to parade them around as the best honor students). After a lot of work, sunny manages to get this position, despite everyone who was against them.

so then after some time of constant training, sunny is ready to be sent off to other cities as diplomat representing Vos! not a lot of stuff happens, just sunny being swept along bc they dont rlly have any other purpose, until the visions return, and the towers collapse, and they're finally free for the first time in their life :D

as for sideswipe, he grew up with a pretty happy and average childhood <3. he never got those visions like sunny, just had a constant restless feeling, which is why he became a travelling merchant to travel cybertron. that and just his natural wanderlust i guess lol. he only realises the thing he was searching for was sunny a few days after they met in the valley lol.

[koqabear]

(it was meee who sent the taegyu stepcest ask, yeah i get what you mean cause just typing that out sounds so out of pocket 😭)

but omggg as much as i love take it! i would have absolutely gobbled up this version. i needed to sit down just to read your reply. please post the snippet. i beg as your humble devoted reader 🙏

i feel like the original planned fic for take it! would've been so messy and dramatic... even more than it already was i mean

i honestly think this wip would be what take it! was meant to be originally. it has some of the same key points, but this one? it's gonna be a terrible rollercoaster of emotions i fear,,, this is a threat.

snippet beneath the cut ! :D and oh yeah. member reveal ! ^^

“Geez, you couldn’t bother waiting just a little?” you hear, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder and pulling you in close before you can properly process it; without warning, Taehyun is pulling you into him, an innocent smile on his face when you look at him in shock. 

“Smells good,” he hums, pulling you along and back into the sight of your parents; the atmosphere is just as stale as you remember it to be, ignoring the pleased look on your mother’s face as Taehyun leads you towards them sweetly. “I can see why you were in such a rush to get back down here.”

The sight of your mother’s flattered expression and the continuation of Taehyun’s kiss-ass comments makes it hard for your face to remain neutral; slumping back into your seat, you opt to remain silent as the two brothers begin to rave about the meal in front of them— your mother gushes and beams at the onslaught of compliments, and you’ve found yourself to have already lost your appetite by the time you’ve noticed Seojun’s eyes filled with pride from the interactions. 

“Everything okay?” You feel as though you’ve been placed under a microscope for observation; when you turn to the owner of the voice, you find Yeonjun staring at you intensely— when your eyes meet his, he glances down at your plate, his brows furrowing in concern as he continues. “You’ve barely touched anything. Are you feeling okay?” 

“Oh, uhm,” everyone’s attention has turned to you; the sudden spotlight has you stuttering stupidly, eyes glued to your plate as you move your food around nervously. “I’m fine. Just… not very hungry.”

“Sweetie, why didn’t you say so?” your mother asks, the name bringing a chill over you; though her face is washed with concern, you still catch something buried deep within her gaze— that familiar sternness, a feeling of humiliation she could never hide from you; the gentleness of her smile feels just as strained as the rest of her. 

“You shouldn’t have let me serve you if you knew it would go to waste,” she reasons; the silence that takes over is swift and painful— the heavy feeling of mortification that drops on you renders you silent.

“It’s no big deal,” Yeonjun suddenly chimes in, reaching over for your plate; you can only sit there in silence as he drags it away from you and towards himself, the sweet smile he sports enough to pacify your mother, “I can finish it for her— I was going to ask for seconds anyway.”

“Oh, Yeonjun,” your mother fawns, face alight with joy like a switch flipped inside her, “you’re too kind— you don’t have to force yourself to cover for her mistakes.”

Yeonjun laughs, the sound making your stomach twist with unease. “No really, it’s alright. It’d be a shame to leave this untouched.”

“Awh,” your mother coos, placing a hand over her heart in gratitude— she glances over at you to make sure you show the same appreciation, “He’s so sweet, isn’t he ___?”

“Yeah,” you say blankly, ignoring the way Yeonjun’s gaze lingers on you for a moment too long. You’ve begun to drown out their painfully saccharine exchange; all you can do is stare at the empty table in front of you, knowing that if you dismissed yourself early, your mother wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

The atmosphere lightens up in no time; Yeonjun and your mother have clicked perfectly, talking and laughing like they’ve known each other their whole lives— Seojun is positively beaming from the exchange. 

Across from you, Taehyun remains silent— not a word spoken all of dinner, except to compliment your mother’s cooking; he doesn’t bother to join into whatever engaging conversation the other three seem to be having, but he listens intently and laughs along nonetheless. For the first time in years, the picture-perfect family is seated before you. 

A feeling of discomfort sits atop your stomach the whole night.

[ririchanva]

//Ask and you shall receive :3 Actually, a lot of you seemed to enjoy this one so I'mma continue to add some more of this :D LEZZGO~

This one will include: Middle School Drama, mentions of bullying, Happy&Healthy!Inko, Alive!Emelie, Humbled!Felix, Chloe Sugar, Kim Salt, Max Salt, Marinette still being Marinette, snippets of Derision, teensy bits of Chloe crushing on Izuku, A MAJOR BUTTLOAD of everyone crushing on Izuku, Adrien growing up into a little shit, and more~! Lemme know if I should make a part three~?

✲ || Part Un || ✲

So...previously, we've stopped on Izuku, Marinette and Chloe as little children being an inseparable trio. That is, until we get to the Agreste and Graham de Vanily family.

Canon-wise, Chloe knew of Adrien and Felix as kids. So if I'm doing my math right, this is before Emilie's "disappearance" and Felix's dad didn't get offed just yet.

In short, Chloe one day invites Izuku and Marinette to visit Adrien since her parents and his are friends.

Adrien is always happy to make new friends besides Chloe.

And it was honestly friendship at first sight when meeting both Izuku and Marinette. (It was like fate~ *gets smacked*)

Adrien immediately locks into Izuku's energy about heroes.

The two clicked much more than Izuku did with Marinette and Chloe, it sort of made the girls a little jealous.

Marinette doesn't fall for Adrien this time around

Gabriel and Emelie are introduced to Izuku and Marinette by Adrien, and honestly it surprised both the Agreste on how well behaved children they were. Especially when they were dreading they would be another Chloe.

But EVEN MORE SURPRISING was how Chloe was also well behaved around them. Where was the usually spoilt brat that loved to boss their son (and sometimes Felix) around?

Emilie wanted to meet the infamous nanny of Chloe's.

And she did...and she adored the woman too.

Emelie begged for Gabriel to hire her as Adrien's nanny too. Why, if Inko Midoriya managed to tame a brat like Chloe, Adrien could perhaps grow into a happy child as well. As much as Emilie and Gabriel wish they could spend more time with their son...their careers are at their peak. Someone had to watch over their son (Nathalie and Gorilla were already having their hands full).

Thanks to Inko's rep of being a full-time babysitter for rich kids like Chloe and Adrien, this meant that Inko's life is set.

Her mental state is at peace, no guilt about raising Izuku and worrying over their next meal and bills. This meant Inko maintained her physical body and kept herself healthy, not to mention Emelie and Sabine made sure the woman was surrounded by a good circle of friends to go out for walks, shopping and pretty much having a life. Not to mention Emelie trying to set Inko up on dates.

Meanwhile, Izuku got to be around his new friends more.

This also caused Chloe to accidentally call Inko, Mom.

"Thank you for mending my dress, Mommy!"

Inko paused from tidying her sewing kit and looked over at the seven year old girl for a moment, blinking her surprised green eyes. All she did was just fix the princess dress that Chloe had accidentally ripped when running around with Izuku, Marinette and Adrien playing pretend Knights and Dragons.

"Ah...y-you're welcome, Chloe-chan. "

Inko didn't know how to process this at first. Perhaps Chloe said it by accident. It was a one time thing...right?

Alas, Chloe continued to call her Mom , to the point that one day Chloe asks innocently:

"I want Mlle. Inko to be my Mommy."

"You can't, Chloe-chan. Because she's my Mom." - Izuku

"Well, what if Chloe and you get married? That way, Chloe could be part of the family :D" - Adrien.

"....Izuku, let's get married." "EHHHHHH?!"

Meeting Felix Graham de Vanily (as if he would keep his father's last name of Fathom) was...confusing, at first.

Izuku and Marinette, like Chloe, mistaken him for Adrien.

When Amelie meets the children, she was cooing on how adorable Izuku and Marinette were.

However, Felix wasn't impressed.

Although that all changed when Izuku played chess against him.

"You...you beat me?" - Felix

"Er, was I not supposed to" - Izuku

Either way, this impressed Adrien and Marinette, and Chloe had to gloat and laugh at Felix's defeat.

Needless to say, this sort of humbled Felix, and both he and his mother visited from time to time. And in turn, Izuku gets invited to London to visit them along with Adrien, Marinette and Chloe.

Fast forward in time, to the start of collège.

Chloe may not be Marinette's tormentor anymore, didn't mean she stayed nice to everyone.

It had to take Adrien and Izuku to stop her tirade at times.

Speaking of, Adrien manages to go to normal public school with them this time around too.

It took a lot of convincing, but it was mostly Inko talking with Emilie about how Adrien should be surrounded by other kids his age. Thus, it made Emelie also persuade Gabriel to send Adrien to school. Although that didn't stop the modelling gigs, advance fencing, language and business classes after school.

But with Chloe no longer being the school bully...someone else takes her place.

Enter Lê Chiến Kim, and his lackey, Max Kanté.

Typical jock behavior, Kim looked to his bullying as pranks. And in no way does he think what he does is wrong.

And his main target?

"Heeeyyyyyy Green Beans~"

Izuku felt the dread each time he encounters Kim, reminding him of his days with Kacchan and his little gang.

It didn't help that Marinette had a stupid crush on Kim FOR SOME REASON.

"He makes me laugh." - Marinette

Note, she doesn't know Kim bullies Izuku. Or is oblivious to it.

Then again, the bullying doesn't look like it's harming Izuku on surface level. As said before, it looked like small playful pranks.

But Chloe knew better.

And had to step in to defend Izuku, The Audrey Bourgeois way.

This caused a ripple effect of students now thinking Chloe was someone not to mess with and stay away from, but rumours of Chloe and Izuku being a couple spread like wild fire (thanks to Kim and Max). Chloe doesn't care...but Izuku did.

"We're just friends!" (Oh boy, here we go again)

Despite the rumours, Izuku managed to become popular.

He was dubbed as the "Chloe Bourgeois Tamer" considering he tends to stop Chloe from going too far on things.

The first one to extend a hand of friendship was Alix Kubdel.

"Kim's a jerk. And respect on pulling the reigns on Queen Bee over there. Wanna hang out with me and my friends?"

Izuku tries to correct that Chloe was not all that bad, but he gives up when he knew Alix wasn't listening to him

This is where Izuku meets Nathaniel and Sabrina.

Izuku notices Nathaniel drawing in his book, and his eyes shine when seeing sketches of various heroes.

"Is that All Might in his silver prime?"

Nathaniel Kurtzberg is surprised to say the least. He was expecting to be mocked or teased by his obsession with drawing heroes. He was used to being called an art nerd by Kim on the daily.

So imagine to his shock that Izuku asks for a commision from him to draw All Might.

They become close friends after that.

Sabrina Raincomprix was someone that just hung with Nathaniel and Alix quietly because she didn't know where she fits in with the class. (With Chloe not being a bully and always around Adrien, Izuku and Marinette, the two never really interacted.)

Izuku tried to befriend her, even saying he admired that her father was Chief of Police. And soon talked about things that apparently had in common such as academics and dreams of the future.

Sabrina crushes hard after the interactions, to the point that she immediately follows him around, just as she did with Chloe in canon.

"Did you want me to help you with your homework? Should I carry your bag for you? Oh! I could get your lunch for you--"

Izuku felt guilty of Sabrina practically trying to do things for him, and he tried to dissuade her from doing so.

Izuku sees Sabrina almost about to cry, not like being rejected. He could never handle girls crying.

And so, he just lets Sabrina do as she pleases.

Marinette finds this cute, and even tries to find ways to set Izuku and Sabrina up as a couple.

Which, in turn, makes Adrien also participate. Not because he thinks Izuku and Sabrina are a cute couple. But it was fun to tease Izuku's misfortune of having a girl crushing on him.

Adrien, please, your Chat is showing TOO EARLY.

Chloe, on the other hand, was furious.

"Who does this nobody think she is?!"

Unlike in canon...Sabrina actually has a backbone.

She actually gains more confidence since interacting with Izuku, especially with his pep talk on his dreams of wanting to be a hero and how his optimism rubbed off on her.

To the point that she bravely declares Chloe as her love rival.

And Chloe accepts this, because Izuku was hers.

Adrien, once more, can't help but tease.

"Wow, you're so popular..." "Be silent, Agreste..."

Bonus: For the lols, Adrien anonymously created a "Izuku Midoriya Fan Club" and it surprised both him and Izuku on how many girls joined it. It has even reached outside of Francis Dupont----

Part 3?

[5dtetris-revisited]

@blackwaves tyyy <3 i'm so willing to talk about gavotte but we'll see how much i end up saying about the other two </3

Gavotte

first off the title took me so fucking long to pick. so gavotte is a style of solitaire but it's also a form of like pretty whimsical group dance and. i maybe can't explain how i interpret the dance and i don't remember the rules of gavotte solitaire now i just remember that it fit so well with what i was looking for when i was title-hunting. so essentially source trust me bro.

but the story itself is aromantic college-era lowkey fuckboy CXS and how all of That intersects with the ql/xss/dy/lg/cxs friend group dynamics and also is just a general dissection of what it's like to be a specific type of alloaro at an age where casual fun and permanent pairing are merging into one thing for everyone you know.

the first scene is just a little childhood 'kids assuming you can't speak to someone of the opposite gender without being in love with them' re: cxs and ql, BUT scene 2 is so fucking fun to me. it's just XSS and CXS riffing off each other re: why CXS doesn't have a romantic partner but with Underlying Tension and. i like it a lot. i would post a snippet but it's like pretty much only dialogue rn; i've gone hella bare-bones with just getting words in the document. again.

X

this. is not called X. that time i said my laptop ate my only attempt at writing fanfic and i was taking it as an omen to never write fanfic? it was this one. X is the placeholder title i slapped on the temp files for quick saving when i was digging through every nook and cranny of my storage to recover as much of it as i could. and i got a fair amount of it? but not a late enough version -- what i recovered is all either readable text pre-revision or insane strings of symbols with random later passages mixed in incoherently.

Anyway. great example of woobification crimes probably. it's whump. just straight whump. LG migraine from Hell whump. just wanted to make him suffer, no other reason. pre-laptop crash on unsaved file, it was a good start at 3k words and counting. of just LG having a terrible time. so fun to write <3 so lame to semi-lose. i'd just gotten to the banter </3

(L)

i mixed up files names (gee i wonder why) and it turns out this is literally the same thing as the lovecraftian one just not the actual story (bg notes etc) and ofc i mixed them up bc none of it has a name yet and my placeholders are a mess T-T. but the entire premise of that one is just what if a high school rugby team had to face The Horrors-- and it's a humiliating cross between like haikyuu-style sports drama and cosmic horror. because i always thought haikyuu could use a little more cosmic horror :D this story's been stuck in the beginning stages for like 5 years though i'm just not willing to let go of it

hope this satisfies o7 i do still kind of think X was an omen--

wip game

[minecraftbookshelf]

Stumbled across MoS and have now binged the entire tag. And I loved it!!! So much!!!!

It's so fun because like Comedy + Everyone has Issues(TM) is the ultimate combination, but the entire thing also has a level of detail that I both adore and envy because I don't think I'll ever be able to achieve it

The worldbuilding is- slfjsjshldjdjk I love worldbuilding and there's so much here!! Seriously I've have the best time ever reading through this

I just love the dynamics so much- all of them. So I feel the need to rant (yes I took notes as I went)

This is going to be long buckle up and I'm so sorry

(there will be a lot of questions in this that you really don't need to answer) (you can of course, I'd be thrilled!) (but most of them will probably be major spoiler territory) (and there'll be a lot, so feel free to ignore) (they're just part of the rambles :D)

First off Pix's whole immortality thing is absolutely amazing- and so is Joel's, I mean my guy just politely declined Death without realising. Insane. Fantastic. I love it

Rivendell siblings and their mounds of trauma and Issues I love them. Having an insane God in your mind that you staunchly ignore is absolute icon behaviour Xornoth is amazing (i thoroughly enjoyed his pov in the first chaper of Mistakes are Made)

I'm worried about how Scott's whole magic thing ends up working out. Elsa arc is reportedly a thing which doesn't bode great. Similarly, what's going to lead to Scott accepting the Champion of Aeor thing?Because I'm rather concerned about that too

The whole thing with Plot and Seablings eeveelution. I'm so curious. I'm SO curious please I need to know. What plot?? What happens??? What on earth kind of insane event will this be? (my guess is something Ender Dragon related)

Speaking of insane events, what was the one during Pix's (early) time? Why did that one happen?? Speaking of the past what about the Salmon people and the Ocean Empire?

Again Events, what's with the assassinations of the former rulers of the WRA? Deeply suspicious, and pretty concerning- something's gotta be going on here too

The fact that Sausage meddles with time-space and drags poor Shrub into all this hilarious and so very accurate

The snippet with Jimmy and fWhip and the alliance was amazing, I absolutely loved it! (after some obviously very concerning things happened) (I'm so curious I want conteeeeext- all this very /lh I swear this isn't meant to sound pressuring I just really love it)

"No blowing up the world with fish." - I laughed so hard I love Pix

But yeah here we are I've exhausted my rambles for now

Thank you for sharing your writing, and I hope you have a wonderful timezone! <3

\0/

I'm a huge fan of mixing in comedy and emotional devastation, I think it makes them both more effective, personally. Like a roller coaster!

World-building is my obsession hobby. It's so much fun to just poke at things until all the pieces fall into place.

I am absolutely delighted by note-taking and long rambles, apology not accepted, I love asks, especially about this AU XD

I love Pix and Joel as the "immortal but not supposed to be" squad. They're totally sane, don't worry about it!

There is more Xornoth pov incoming, once Chapter Two stops being my nemesis, and it'll have quite a bit more insight into the dynamic between Xornoth and Exor and I'm looking forward to getting that out!

Elsa Arc will indeed be a thing :)

I'm sure Scott will never accept being a full champion! Don't worry about it! (I'm saying that a lot, I'm realizing. Nothing to see here, everything is fine!)

Ender Dragon is a pretty good guess but I can neither confirm nor deny anything!

Both Pix's past and The Ocean Wars (and the mortal political ongoings that lead to a bunch of near-simultaneous assassinations) will be covered in main arc fics and backstory oneshots. Pix, in the space of his original mortal lifetime, got to live through several world-changing events at much closer range than he really would have liked. The kinds of events that get remembered as legends and myths in only a couple of generations. As for why it happened...The world changes sometimes. People change. Sometimes gods change, sometimes they break.

Sausage has never made sensible choices in his life and he's not about to start now! XD

The tldr for "no blowing up the world with fish" is that I wanted to explore some long-term ramifications and trauma recovery and such and so obviously, we can't have the world end, that would put a damper on things. So, Pixlriffs Ex Machina it is!

Thank you so much for the message, I'm so glad you are enjoying this au, it's been a bit slow lately due to rl things and low spoons but its very much not gone! Have a wonderful timezone!

[1loer]

HI HELLO!! How are you doing?

Can you please share some snippets of that fic you mentioned you were writing but abandoned it? (If you want of course no pressure!) I'm so interested :D

well, since u asked so nicely.

((warnings for references to self-harm, homophobia, child neglect, and descriptions of blood and violence))

Its about 12k words in length and very choppy because i just grabbed together whatever pieces were 1) done 2) i felt were needed to get some sort of "story" here.

this is quite old now so its not the best written and im not sure how i feel about it overall but i hope u get something from it anyway :')

Nagito Komaeda wasn’t normal. He knew this much but couldn’t understand why. 

He knew because Komaeda liked to watch people. No one really bothered to talk with him much, so it was all he could do. This was one of the reasons he knew he wasn’t normal. Other people talked to other people, and it didn’t seem like it was a very big deal at all. People didn’t talk to him, and people very much did not smile at him when they talked, and if they did, it would definitely be a very big deal to him. Normal people had people around them. Some had only a few, others had loads. Komaeda had none. 

Not that he minded. It was to be expected. No one wanted to be around someone who wasn’t normal. It wasn’t like it was only these things that made him different. He figured the list of ‘whys’ probably didn’t have an end and grew a little longer every day. 

Plus, he supposed he was lucky in this way. He’d seen what the other option looked like. He’d much rather be ignored completely than gain negative attention. 

He thinks. 

Then again-

The bell rang, and the thought cut off. The others in his class who had been talking with their friends moved back to their seats as his homeroom teacher, Mr. Yoshida, walked to the front. The class representative called for them to bow, they did, then took their seats.

“Before I take attendance, I want to introduce a new student into our class.” 

Komaeda raised his eyebrows. He didn’t think he’d ever been in a class that had had a new student transfer like this before. He sat forward a little in his seat. This was an amazing precedent for hope. His palms sweat a little where they gripped his seat. 

The door to the classroom slid open, and a boy walked in. The first thing Komaeda noticed about him was that he was tall. He figured that was probably what everyone else noticed too. The two girls who sat in front of him shared a look, then stifled their giggles. 

“Introduce yourself to the class.” 

The boy bowed, raised his head and smiled. 

Komaeda’s eyes widened. 

“I’m Hiroto Ishikawa. I hope we can be friends.” 

A rush. Small, but strong enough you couldn’t ignore it, more like a tickle or a shiver, one that started right at the base of your skull and spread down to the tips of your fingers; made you curl your toes. Like that primal instinct humans never managed to extinguish when you know someone is staring at you. You turn your head to stare back before the thought has even processed. 

Hope. Ishikawa was brimming with it. 

This was something else that Komaeda knew made him not normal. 

He wasn’t sure why, but he’d always been able to sense it. Hope and despair. The feelings were different, yet still so powerful, and Komaeda seemed to have senses finely tuned to differentiate between both. Special people, people with talent, they were filled with hope. It seemed so obvious to Komaeda, it made him wonder why no one else could sense it if it was so easy for someone as useless as himself. 

Someone with talent. Someone blessed with hope in its purest form, and they were in his class. Komaeda swallowed thickly and gripped his hands into fists in his lap. What an amazing turn of events. 

How much more amazing then, that Ishikawa was assigned to sit next to him. 

Sometimes Komaeda seriously couldn’t believe his own luck. 

He’d never had much interest in the rest of his classmates. So, them not particularly having an interest in him either didn’t matter to him. They were all the same. All of them were destined for nothing. The best any of them could hope for was to at least become something that could assist Ultimates in their goals and bolster their hope. The difference between him and the rest of his classmates, however, seemed to be that Komaeda was the only one who understood this.  

But Ishikawa was special. Komaeda desperately wanted to get to know him. 

— ((Ishikawa treats Komaeda like he's a normal person, and extends basic human kindess towards him (greeting him every morning, doing small talk). Komaeda's obsession with him only gets worse))

Talking to Ishikawa was easy, because Komaeda didn’t have to do much talking at all. Ishikawa just told him everything about volleyball, explained the rules, talked about the Olympic team’s strategies and his opinions on them. Komaeda didn’t understand any of it. He hadn’t even seen a volleyball game before. 

Komaeda revealed this fact to Ishikawa, only realising how embarrassing it was to admit once it was already out of his mouth. 

But that didn’t stop someone like Ishikawa. 

“Man, you’re missing out! How the hell have you never seen a volleyball game before?! That’s insane.” Before the disappointment could set in Komaeda’s chest, Ishikawa shook his head, “I can’t let you go on like this. You’ll just have to come to the try-outs tomorrow and watch me play.” 

Komaeda’s breath left him. 

“W-What?” 

Ishikawa shrugged, “Well, if it’s going to be your first game, I want to make sure you’re watching someone who actually knows what they’re doing.” He finished with a wink, and a smirk, and Komaeda laughed much too loudly. He smacked a hand over his face and turned away, swallowing down the nervous spit that had gathered in his mouth. 

This was unbelievable. This was- 

Amazing. 

“I’d be more than honoured to see your hope shine at such a pivotal moment! I-I’m so happy you’d even think to invite me-” 

Ishikawa’s face morphed, a quick twitch of his lip, and it shot anxiety through Komaeda that made him cut off his words. 

He swallowed and took a deep breath, corrected his smile, and said, “I’ll definitely be there. I’ll definitely watch you play, Ishikawa.” 

“...Good. I’m glad.” Ishikawa answered with a smile, but somehow it still felt wrong. 

Komaeda did his best to understand the rules of volleyball before the game. The setter, the position Ishikawa played, seemed to be the most pivotal role in the whole system from what Komaeda could understand. They controlled the ball, set it up for the spiker, who scored the points. A role that perfectly suited someone as reliable and strong as Ishikawa. It wasn’t the flashiest, but it was the role that set up the rest of the team for success. It was something that Komaeda could sort of relate to.  

Not that Ishikawa was anything like Komaeda, on any level at all.

…But it was nice to think that maybe, like this, they were similar. All Komaeda wanted was to be useful like that, to be the reason someone else could shine. Maybe Ishikawa also understood that. The thought made him blush. 

He stood quietly in the stalls, watching amongst the girls who had also come to support Ishikawa. Of course, Ishikawa had become very popular ever since he transferred, so his fan club was quite sizable already. Pretty girls with bright eyes watched raptly and squealed and yelled his name when he made a good play, which was pretty often. Komaeda stayed back, not wanting to get in their way. Despite not knowing any of the team members Ishikawa moulded to their needs in record time. Even someone as stupid as Komaeda, who knew nothing about the sport, could understand how well he was doing. 

One of the players, one Komaeda was sure would be selected alongside Ishikawa for the team, delivered another earth-shattering slice that cut through the opposite team’s wall of defences, set up perfectly by Ishikawa. The whistle blew to announce Ishikawa’s team’s victory for game, 25 to 20. 

The girls screamed in joy as the team celebrated, and Komaeda clapped along in the background. He was ecstatic, but it was no surprise. Komaeda was sure that any team Ishikawa was on would win. 

The girl in the centre of all the others, with long legs and even longer hair, leaned against the railing and called for Ishikawa. Komaeda had been watching her more closely lately. She was also in his class. She was smart, her grades beating his easily, but even that was saying something because Komaeda tended to rank pretty highly, all things considered. She was always around Ishikawa. Ishikawa seemed to like the attention she gave him too. Komaeda figured that if Ishikawa was going to choose any of them to go out with, it’d be her. 

Which was fine. 

Ishikawa could totally do better than some hopeless, meaningless civilian like her, but who was Komaeda to judge? He was nothing better. If anything, he may have been worse. He wasn’t even a girl. Ishikawa definitely wouldn’t be so perverted. 

At least she was pretty. Ishikawa probably wanted to date someone pretty and popular like her. 

…What a strange train of thought. Even stranger was the lump that formed from nothing in his throat after it. 

Komaeda waited for him outside the gym after that. Part of him felt silly for it. It’s not like Ishikawa would want to see him, and he certainly hadn’t asked, but still he waited. He just wanted to see Ishikawa. Maybe, if he was really lucky, they’d walk home together again. 

Eventually, Ishikawa emerged. Surrounded by his peers and smiling brightly, the evening sun wrapped around him in golden ribbons, he looked to Komaeda the picture of a hero from a story book. The light his hope produced made even the worthless people leeching on him look picturesque. 

Komaeda watched them from the shadows and wondered what the hell he was even doing.  

But still he didn’t move, enraptured by the hope shining out of Ishikawa without him even trying. What he’d give for one more glance, one more smile thrown his way. It was too much to ask for, but even so he couldn’t help but yearn for it. 

“A-Amazing performance, Ishikawa!” Komaeda choked out as he approached him. The rest of the group stopped and turned to look at him, but Komaeda hardly paid them any mind. 

Ishikawa looked at the rest of the group, and they shared a look that Komaeda didn’t fully understand. But then Ishikawa turned back to him, and the rest of the group dispersed, 

“Did you expect anything less?” Ishikawa replied with a smirk, and Komaeda’s smile stretched wild. 

“Of course not, but even so, seeing it up close and personal was something entirely different!” 

“Psh, of course! I told you as much, didn’t I?” Ishikawa smirked handsomely, and Komaeda found it hard to swallow. With a chaste punch on his shoulder, more a tap than anything else, Ishikawa said, “I’m glad I got to be your first.” 

He didn’t mean it like that. There's no way he meant anything even close to where Komaeda’s brain went but- 

Ishikawa winked, and Komaeda burst into loud embarrassed laughter, his face steaming from the intensity of the blush he was sporting. This was- Oh this was just the worst. This was the absolute worst thing ever he was so stupid- 

The girl, the one with the long hair that liked Ishikawa, was suddenly calling for him from the door to the school. With that, Ishikawa was leaving, waving at Komaeda over his shoulder, and Komaeda was left alone, stiff and warm and waving jankily as he walked away. 

Once he was out of sight, Komaeda ran until he reached the bathrooms, entered a stall, slammed the door, shakily locked it, and collapsed to the floor. 

How humiliating. 

He clawed his hands into his face, scorning the heat that still emitted from it. 

But it wasn’t enough. Even as his nails clawed down his face it didn’t disrupt the events repeating on loop in his head. Komaeda felt himself burn up, Ishikawa’s words and his responses rushing and crawling like fire ants biting through the folds of his brain.

The burning increased as the walls of the cubical closed in on him. He hoped they did. He hoped they crushed him. No, something worse than that- It needed to be bad. A death so horrific that whenever anyone thought of him that’s all they’d remember, so every other torturous moment of his life would be entirely erased in its wake. 

He dug his nails into his flesh, until it hurt, then harder still, until the pain didn’t register anymore, until it was almost soothing. 

“I’m glad I got to be your first.” 

He needed these thoughts to stop. He was being eaten alive. Fire ants in his brain, in his skin, in his lungs, in his throat-

The stall door closed gently behind him. He dusted off his trousers and washed his hands. Only when he was at the sink did it occur to him that there very well could have been someone else in the toilets that heard all that. Looking now, there was no one around. It was after-school hours, but clubs were still running. He was lucky no one had walked in on him. He double checked in the mirror. There was some evidence, but none that couldn’t be shrugged off. He’d probably regret all this later. But that was for later.

He walked home in a haze. He didn’t even remember taking the train.

– ((Komaeda becomes really sick, but manages to make it to the finals of a volleyball tournement match Ishikawa is playing in))

They won, the final scoreboard reading 21-19. 

The entire team was ecstatic. The stadium boomed with an uproarious cheer at their success. Komaeda felt it on his skin like a rash, all goosebumps and raised hairs and static on top of static. It enveloped him, to the point he almost felt like he was floating, like the win was somehow his own. 

Hope. An unprecedented amount. 

Komaeda knew it’d be good. That's why he had to be here; why he dragged himself despite the nausea and the pain and the exhaustion. His head felt full of air, static on static on static like the most all-encompassing pins and needles. Komaeda couldn’t get enough breath in his chest; it all went to his head. He gripped tight at the bar of the rafters, eyes wide as he watched Ishikawa’s team celebrate. But, the other side of the net, the other end of the spectrum. The losing team, their dreams crushed, third years who would never see their team through to nationals before high school, crowded as well, joined not in hope, but despair. Both sides of such a tumultuous spectrum, painted here in front of him in bright and dazzling colours. A clear presentation of how despair must fall for hope to raise those who deserve it up higher. As always, as it always and reliably did, hope conquered despair, and those deserving basked in the glory of the aftermath and it was amazing, spectacular, he absolutely couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. To think he almost missed all of this- 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

His head snapped to the side. 

Ah, had he said all that out loud? 

That girl, the one with the long hair, and her friend, the one who wore too much makeup and too many accessories, were standing next to him giving him strange and mildly frightened looks, 

“Um…Are you, like, okay?” The girl’s friend asked, “You look, like, paler and sweatier than usual.” 

“It’s not anything that should concern someone like you.” Komaeda mumbled, but right now, even that much was a struggle. 

“Oi.” The main girl’s voice went lower, quiet yet threatening, “She was just being kind. Don’t think you can just ignore her so coldly.” 

“I don’t need kindness from the likes of you.” 

“What, you think you’re better than us or somethin’?” The girl’s friend interjected. The girl held out an arm, and Komaeda thought that it was the only thing keeping her from jumping him. 

“Oh, please, don’t be mistaken. You’re absolutely no better or worse than I am.” 

“Hey-” she growled but cut herself off when she was interrupted by Ishikawa calling from below. 

Komaeda turned, he wanted to know what Ishikawa would say, but he might’ve turned a bit too quickly, because his world went fuzzy, stars popping and exploding in his vision, and he had to steady himself once more to stop from almost passing out. 

Or that was the plan. Despite what his intentions were, his hand slipped, missed the barrier, and before he’d even hit the floor, everything went dark. 

-

Rocks under his feet skidded across the concrete. He scrambled, corrected his stance, and continued onwards. The small slip did nothing to slow down his excited pace as he ran up the winding tree lined path of his driveway towards his house. He did have to slow down, though, when he got to the steps of his front porch. The dark wood steps were a bit too tall for his small legs. He put utmost concentration into climbing them, both feet on each solid step before moving to the next. Eventually, he made it. He reached up, opened the door, and pushed into his house. 

“Mum! Mum! I’m home!” 

He shrugged off his backpack, almost falling backwards with the weight of it. He pushed the heavy door shut behind him, before gently placing the paper in his hands on the floor and taking off his shoes. His tongue peaked out a little as he struggled out of them, a task made harder as he didn’t take the time to undo them properly. He picked up the paper, and started running again-

Only he forgot how slippery his floors were, and his socks made his feet fly from under him and he crashed into the floor headfirst. 

He flopped onto his side groaning, his hands pushing into his head as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. That really hurt, and the stars in his eyes were scary and the feeling was scary too. He sniffled, corrected the black cap on his head, and stood up shakily. Despite his fall, he hadn’t dropped the paper in his hands and, luckily, it hadn’t ripped either. Komaeda shook away the tears and continued on his quest. 

“Mum?” 

His call echoed across the wide, white, empty halls of his big, big house. He peeked his head into the kitchen. Nothing. Living room provided the same, as did the guest room. He pushed open the heavy doors of their library but stopped short. No music. If mum was in the library, she’d be playing violin, or she’d be listening to her records. She wasn’t in here either. Weird. 

He let the door swing closed behind him and ran back down the hallway to continue his search upstairs, careful this time not to slip on the shiny tiles on the floor. He flinched a little at the sound of the library door slamming shut. He always got told off for doing that. It wasn’t his fault the doors were so heavy. Who cared about a little loud noise anyway? It was so stupid. 

But no one was around to tell him off this time. So, he forgot about it quickly. 

He traversed up the stairs, one hand gripping his paper, the other holding onto the railings curving up their side, switching between each curling black iron bar the higher he climbed.

He reached the landing and instantly made his way down the long corridor to his parent’s room, the taps of his feet rendered silent as their sounds were swallowed by the thick carpet stretched across the floor. He hesitated in the doorway for a little. He wasn’t really allowed in here, but this was really important. He knew it’d make his mum happy, his teachers had even said so. He needed to show her right now. 

It was only when he walked into the room and saw the heavy curtains drawn and the lights off that he realised how quiet the house was. He slowed to a stop at the end of his parent’s massive bed, his feet sinking into the plush rug on the floor. 

A weird feeling dropped in his tummy. His shoulders and back felt shivery. This was…not good. It was never good when mum was in bed like this. He definitely shouldn’t be in here. He was definitely being naughty right now. But he really needed to show this to mum. He’d told his teachers he would. He was so excited to show her. 

They’d had an art class today, and they’d been told to draw a picture of their best day ever. Komaeda hadn’t been able to think of things as exciting as his classmates did, so he just drew what was truthful. A picture of him, his mum, and dad, all together at the park. They hadn’t done that in ages. Komaeda really wished they could, though. His teacher had been really happy with it, and she showed it to the rest of the class and everything. So, he needed to show his mum, because his teacher said it’d make her happy. Mum wasn’t happy often. Komaeda wanted really badly to be the reason she was happy today. 

But now, Komaeda wasn’t so sure of himself. 

Maybe, if he showed her, it’d make her feel better, and she’d get out of bed and open the curtains, and then he could read to her too. Maybe this time, it’d be different. 

“Mum?” he whispered. He was too scared to be louder than that. Mum didn’t like it when he was loud, especially when she was like this.

There was no response from the lump on the bed. Komaeda’s hands gripped tighter onto the paper in his hands. He crept closer, 

“Mum?” 

“What?” 

He was startled a little at the sudden, sharp response. Even though this was what he’d wanted, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong. 

“I got something to show you.” he mumbled, and did his best to ignore the squirming, bad feeling in his stomach. 

For a long time, she was quiet. The longer she was quiet, the tighter his chest felt. Though it probably didn’t help that he was hardly breathing. He didn’t want to make more sound than really necessary in case it made mum shout. Right before Komaeda tried again, he heard her mumble something. He took a step forwards, 

“What?” She didn’t respond. He leaned onto the bed, “What did you say-” 

“This is all your fault.” Komaeda froze, fear shooting through him, icy and sharp right down his spine, freezing him in place. The less movement he made, the less noticeable he was, maybe then he’d be safe. 

It was for nothing. She turned around, sat up in bed, glaring down at him. He’d never seen mum look like that before. He wished he never had, “If you hadn’t ripped out my soul when you were born- Now they’re after me.” She gripped her hands into her flaxen hair, usually soft and tidy, now it was rough and messy, her fingers pulling through it messing it up further. Komaeda felt his bottom lip quiver, “They’re going to kill me and it’s all your fault.” 

He trembled, wanting desperately to leave, hating the way his chest rose as he breathed because he never wanted to make another movement ever again in his life, “I-I’m sorry-” 

“Nagito! What are you doing in here?!” 

His dad’s voice was so loud, it shot a new spear of fear through him, he trembled, despite how bad he just wanted to freeze just stay still just don’t move- 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry-” 

Dad was picking him up, and he was rushed out of the room and dropped again in the hallway. He tasted salt. He hadn’t even realised he’d been crying. Now he had realised, he couldn’t get himself to stop. 

“Damn it kid!” His dad ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair, then was bending down to his level. He gripped him by the shoulders, “No, look- shh! No, it’s okay, don’t cry-” Komaeda sobbed and hiccupped. He couldn’t breathe properly. He was crying so hard his chest hurt. His dad shook him a little, voice panicked and that just made him even more scared. “Come on kid. Stop it. Stop it!” Komaeda wanted to listen, he wanted to stop, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop. It made him cry harder. He wanted his mum- his mum was scary; he didn’t want to be with her- he wanted a hug- he wanted to be as far away from everything as possible- he wanted someone to take him away- he wanted to never be seen again- “I don’t need this right now.” 

Komaeda’s stomach went funny, and his chest went tighter. His dad was angry now too. All because of him.

“I-I didn’t want to k-kill mum-” Komaeda managed between sobs. 

“What? No one’s killing your mum.” 

“I don’t want mum to die-” 

“What are you talking about?! Look- Fuck! Just stop crying!” His dad’s voice was so loud, it shocked the tears out of him. He hiccuped another breath, eyes wide, still spilling tears. As soon as he stopped, his dad smiled at him, that jokey tone in his voice that usually made Komaeda laugh. He didn’t feel like laughing right now though. “Come on, where’s that smile? You know I love that smile. Show me!” 

Komaeda didn’t want to smile, but maybe if he did, his dad wouldn’t be so angry anymore, and maybe this could all stop and they could go back to normal again. He wiped his eyes, and rubbed the wet backs of his hands on his stiff uniform shirt then shakily forced himself to smile. Then, his dad smiled back, and it felt a little bit worth it. At least he wasn’t bothering him as well now. 

“Atta boy. Just keep smiling, kid. A strapping young man like you can’t cry like a little baby.”

He sniffed and wiped his eyes again, “Okay…” 

But he didn’t feel okay at all. How could he feel okay when his mum was going to die because of him? 

But, if dad was smilling, did that mean everything was okay? Komaeda wasn’t sure. It just made him feel even more scared. At least he was here. His dad could keep him safe at least-

“Brilliant. Now, go with Nanny Kaneko.” 

Dad was gone, and Komaeda felt all the tears he’d just wiped into his school shirt rush back. 

“Come on Nagito.” Nanny Kaneko grabbed his arm and dragged him away, down the hall, away from mum, away from dad. A stern look creased her tired face, “You know you aren’t allowed in your parents room. That was so silly of you!”

He tripped over his feet as he tried to keep up. His heart pounded, “Nanny, mum said she’s going to die because of me.” 

Nanny slowed down, and the look she gave him made him think he shouldn’t have said anything at all. He gripped a hand into his uniform and sniffed to hold back the tears. He was a big boy now. If he cried anymore dad would just get more upset. 

Nanny squeezed his hand, and when he looked at her, she looked very upset. He didn’t even know what he’d done this time to make that happen. She was probably sad as well that mum was going to die because of him. 

She squeezed his hand a little tighter, the thin, dry skin of her hands shifting under his fingers. It didn’t help. 

“...Your mother isn’t well, Nagito. But she’ll be okay.” Her voice sounded funny as she said it. Komaeda didn’t really understand what she meant. Maybe Nanny didn’t either, and that’s why she sounded so weird. The sicky feeling in his stomach got worse. “She’s not going to die. The doctor is coming. That’s why you need to be good.” 

Be good. 

Being good meant not crying and staying quiet. 

Maybe if he did that, mum wouldn’t die and dad wouldn’t be mad.  

Nanny took him to his room. He turned around and looked up at her, and when he did, she looked even sadder. She took off his school cap and ran a gentle hand through his hair. It was nice. Maybe now he wasn’t crying and was being quiet Nanny might stay and she could read to him- 

“Now stay here, like a good boy. Don’t bother your parents again.” 

Nanny shut the door behind her, and Komaeda listened to her footsteps get quieter as they walked down the hall. 

Komaeda sniffled and rubbed at his nose. In his other hand, he still held his drawing. He’d almost completely forgotten about it. He looked at it, and the glow-y nice way that he’d felt before when he looked at it was gone. Now, he just felt hot. Hot with a weird, harsh feeling that made him want to scream and punch something. Anything. Maybe himself. But he couldn’t. He had to be good. 

He pinched his mouth tightly closed and breathed harshly. He wished he’d never drawn the stupid thing in the first place. It was a stupid, dumb idea. Only good boys got to go to the park. If he was a good boy, he wouldn’t have killed his mum. 

He threw it away, across the room, and the hot, nasty feeling only got worse when it didn’t fly as far away as he wanted and instead fluttered down to the floor lamely. 

Be good. Don’t yell. Don’t cry. 

He wiped away tears that wouldn’t stop and muttered it to himself. The feeling didn’t go away, it only grew. It grew too big, bigger than he knew how to deal with and he just couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard he tried - 

The bang of the front door closing startled him, and the feeling disappeared to make room for fear instead. There was yelling, and talking, one of the voices was his dads but he didn’t know the others. He quickly crawled to his bed and pulled his knees up to his chest. Outside his room, he listened intently to the muffled sounds of people walking around his house. He tried to hear what they were saying, but it was too quiet. 

Komaeda buried his head into his knees, and as his mother screamed, he only cried harder. Big boys don’t cry, and he was a big, strong boy. But maybe, if he was quiet, no one would find out he had been, and then no one would be upset with him, and maybe then, it didn’t really count anyway. 

When he realised that everything had gone quiet, he lifted his head again. Somehow, even though he’d only been sitting there a few seconds, hours had passed. He didn’t have proof of this. It was more a feeling he had. When he looked out the window, and saw it was nighttime, it only made the feeling deepen. 

He got off his bed, and his feet hit the floor a lot quicker than he expected, and when he stood up, he was older. Older than made sense. He didn’t question it.

He left his room, as quiet as possible. Something felt strange, like he was trespassing somehow, even though this was his house. Downstairs, he heard the sound of music, the sound of chatter. He searched for it. Every light was off in the house. A cool, uncomforting dark soaking everything, pulling fears into dark, uncertain corners and dangers into every loud creak his feet made against the floor. 

Golden light silhouetted the door to the library, and when he pushed it open, it spilled over him. 

A party. 

The library was full of people, people he didn’t know, people much older and wiser looking than he was. People who oozed professionalism and wealth and poise. Piano song danced through the room, its notes swaying through the small gaps between the crowd of people, and his father’s warm laughter squeezing in alongside it. Komaeda stepped into the room, and shut the door behind him. 

Why hadn’t they warned him they were having a party? He couldn’t remember them telling him. They usually didn’t shut up about them before they happened. Komaeda looked down at himself, and embarrassment coated him; slick and uncomfortable. He was completely under-dressed. Wearing only a sleep shirt and his boxers and nothing more. He tugged his shirt down further and just prayed that somehow no one would notice. It was too late to go and change now. 

He found his spot, the spot he always sat during these things, quietly out of the way, but prettily in view of anyone who cared. Not that anyone did. Here, on this sofa, his designated safe zone in the middle of a battle ground, he felt at least a little less like an obvious and embarrassing eyesore. 

His comfortable solitude didn’t last long. His father found him, a rowdy yell of excitement burst out of him, 

“There he is! My miracle boy!” 

He rose to his feet obediently, clenching his jaw, praying that no one would notice his ruffeld and unkempt state. Somehow, no one did. His father continued to sing his praises, a solid, warm hand gripping into his shoulder and jostling him, 

“Just you wait, one day my boy’s going to turn out to be an outstandingly talented, I just know it!” His dad shook him a little more roughly, and Komaeda had to work to keep standing, “Why, his teachers already say he’s showing massive potential!” 

Despite it all, the praise filled him, warm and squirming yet embarrassing, but still good. It made him bite back a smile. 

As usual, the feeling didn’t last long, 

“Potential for what?” Someone said with a snort, “Ultimate Catastrophe, maybe?” The crowd snickered, and Komaeda’s chest went cold as the feeling drained, “Though then again, I think it does take talent to be that incompetent!”

Laughter burst from the people in front of him, loud and uproarious and never-ending. Komaeda looked at his bare feet and pulled at the bottom of his t-shirt. His father’s hand squeezed into his shoulder harshly, and when he looked at him, he was still smiling, and he was laughing along with them. A stiff laugh, but a laugh all the same. Komaeda swallowed harshly, and laughed along as well, before excusing himself, turning away, and dropping the smile from his face. 

He found a new, unpopulated corner, further away from the piano, further away from the jeering crowd, and he clenched his jaw against the shame. Whatever. He hated these stupid parties. One day, he’d show them. 

He pulled a book off the shelf, and hoped that if he looked busy enough, he’d be left alone.  

No such luck. Though, this intruder was a lot more welcome than the last. 

“What are you reading, darling?” 

His mother sat primly beside him, glass of wine in her hand cupped professionally. Her smile was soft, her green eyes even softer, even if there was a certain, hazy look to them. There always was, nowadays. She brushed a thin hand through his hair, and it warmed him tip to toe. He told her the title, and her smile only turned warmer, 

“Like mother like son.” She murmured, her hand still brushing lines through his hair. Komaeda’s heart kicked into gear, pounding as his cheeks warmed with a blush.

He couldn’t help it. Something about the touch pulled something out of him. Jittery and wild in its naivete; a puppy let off its leash. The babbling began. He explained the book, the plot, the characters, what he liked, what he was excited about-

He looked up and his mother was gone, already up and talking to someone he didn’t recognise. 

Cold seeped back into him, replacing the temporary warmth her attention had given him. Oh well. He didn’t know what he’d expected. 

A drop onto his bare leg. 

He looked down. Red. Crimson, wet and sticky. 

He rubbed his mouth and when he pulled back his hand, it was smeared with it too. 

His throat clogged, and he choked, and when he managed to cough, hands firmly covering his mouth, he felt a splatter against his palms. 

Red. Crimson, warm and shining. 

A strange sensation, one other than the dread and confusion slowly engulfing him, made him look down at his stomach. His t-shirt, once only wrinkled with sleep, was stained with it, and it spread, soaking in, getting deeper, and deeper. Thicker. Stickier.

Blood on his hands, blood in his mouth, on his shirt, staining his clothes and his skin and his teeth- viscous and smothering him with the smell of death and taste of iron. He called for help, but the party continued. He grabbed onto someone, and they walked away as if he wasn’t even there. 

It was only getting worse. He didn’t know what to do. 

He felt it seeping out of him, felt it filling his throat once more. Exhaustion set in as the blood rushed out of him, but fear kept him moving despite it. He begged at someone, and they pushed him away. Even though it was light, his head was lighter, his body even more so with the lack of blood, it was enough to send him to the floor. He skidded across it, a smeer of blood ruining the dark hardwood floor his parents adored, before he landed at two pairs of feet. He looked up as his parents looked down at him. Affectless. Bored.   

He gripped weakly at the leg of his dad’s suit trousers, 

“Please-” he choked out. Blood splattered against his polished, brown leather shoes. 

His mother’s mouth lifted in a sneer. 

“Mum, dad-” 

They turned away.

He sobbed- or tried to. His throat was too blocked up with blood. Surely this was too much. How could there be this much blood? How could he be bleeding this much? He choked on it, tried to swallow it down, but the acidic, metal taste just made his stomach flip, and he hacked it back up, wet and thick slopping onto the floor, the sound gruesome and echoing in the empty library. 

He looked up. Empty. Empty even of light and warmth. Everyone had gone. Nothing but empty blackness pressing harsh against the tall windows of the library. Alone, completely, once again. Not just in this house. He didn’t know how, but he knew, easy to know as breathing, as his heartbeat. He was the only one on the entire planet. An entire, empty existence, of only him. The last, pathetic human on earth, left lying, bleeding his life out onto a cold, uncaring wood floor. 

His crying echoed, and despite it all, the sound of it bouncing back at him embarrassed him, and he tried to do it quieter, but it was hard. He collapsed onto his side, pulling his knees up to his stomach in response to some primal need to protect what was most delicate about him. Like it would do him any good. He couldn’t protect from what was inside of him. 

He hugged himself closer and watched the blood creep across the floor away from him, and closed his eyes, too scared to die. As he lay, he wished for someone to hold him. Even if it was pointless. Even if it was only until he died. It was too cold. He wished there was someone here. But there wasn’t, and there never was. Now, there never would be.  

–

Another day off for rest, and then he was back to school. Such an event wouldn’t usually put a skip in his step, but this was different. Now, school meant seeing Ishikawa. There was no way Komaeda couldn’t be excited for something like that. 

By a brilliant stroke of luck, he managed to catch Ishikawa just as he was parking his bike on the racks outside the school. 

He found himself calling out before he’d even realised it. 

“Ishikawa!”

Ishikawa stopped and turned, removing an earphone and searching for who called him. His eyes caught Komaeda, and he smiled. 

“Oh, hey Komaeda.” 

Komaeda felt more alive than he had in days. 

“Congratulations on your win the other day.” Komaeda praised, squeezing tighter than necessary onto the handle of his bag. Ishikawa laughed through a thanks and continued locking up his bike and removing his helmet. Komaeda kicked at the ground and watched a small stone jump away from him, “I’m sorry I caused such an issue for you. On such an important day too. I can never forgive myself…”

“Psh, it’s whatever.” Ishikawa shook out his hair, and ran a hand through it to fix it, “Glad you’re feeling better though.” 

Komaeda swallowed hard. Ishikawa’s words pinballing off the corners of his mindso hard he felt his head spin along with it. 

“Still I-” 

“Ishi!” 

Then, Ishikawa’s eyes were off him, and a rough arm looped around his neck. One of the boys from his class, one of Ishikawa’s friends, was dragging him away rowdily. 

Komaeda sighed. He supposed manners like that were to be expected of someone so hopeless. If only everyone else could understand how important Ishikawa was, then maybe they’d treat him with the respect he deserved. He was sure it must drive Ishikawa to madness to be treated in such a way. But Ishikawa didn’t voice his distaste. He laughed along with them, bantered back. 

Komaeda couldn’t stop watching them as he walked behind them to their classroom. Their playful bickering, the familiar tone they talked to each other with, the ease at which it all played out between the two of them, all of it carved a hole into Komaeda. It felt like hunger. And while he was only a few paces back from the two of them, he couldn’t have felt further out of reach. Ishikawa’s friend told a joke, and Ishikawa laughed and ruffled a hand through his friend’s buzzcut. The hunger panged. 

Komaeda gripped his bag a little tighter as his hands shook, swallowing down the spit that had gathered in his mouth. This dreadful feeling of despair he was consumed by surely only spoke to the marvellous hope their relationship possessed, and that could be due to no one other than Ishikawa. His kindness knew no bounds. To have such a close and personal relationship with someone so beneath him, that was a truly powerful hope. His nails cut crescents into the palms of his hands. 

Komaeda watched them and thought about killing himself.

His mind spun the idea in his head, a ceaseless repetition of moments Ishikawa had shown kindness and closeness with others as the despair in his chest grew and grew. It was worse than normal today. Ishikawa seemed to be particularly magnetic, for some reason. People crowded him, praised him. Komaeda couldn’t make out the details, no one was being specific enough, but Ishikawa basked in it. As he should. Ishikawa deserved every second of the praise they drowned him in. It wasn’t any of Komaeda’s business why everyone was particularly excited about him today. Even if they were being particularly annoying, taking up so much of his space so early in the morning. He also didn’t see why he was the only one who didn’t get to know. He deserved the opportunity to praise Ishikawa as much as any of the other meaningless spawn that filled his classroom. 

The bell rang, and Mr. Yoshida stood up from his desk. He called for them to settle, and everyone scarpered to their seats. 

“Seems the news has spread, Ishikawa.” 

Ishikawa smirked, and the guy that sat on the other side of him roughly pushed his hand into his hair. 

Even the teacher knew, huh? He really was the only one out of the loop. He didn’t think he’d been out of school that long. He glanced at Ishikawa, and he seemed to just sparkle.

“Though with your performance at the tournament last week, it’s of no surprise.” Mr. Yoshida adjusted his glasses, “I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say we’re immensely proud to be sharing a class with a future student of Hope’s Peak Academy-”

The words were like a cold-water dive. 

The sound of Komaeda’s chair screeching against his classroom’s wood floor sliced through the cheers and applause of his classmates. It didn’t matter to him. He was deaf to all of it. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his head. He stared at Ishikawa, and Ishikawa stared back. 

“Y-Yo-” 

“Komaeda, sit down-” 

“Ishikawa, is that true?” His voice was a whisper, shaking, almost indecipherable. He swallowed heavily, and his voice returned to him, “Ishikawa- Ishikawa you really got into Hope’s Peak Academy? You’re going to Hope’s Peak?! They asked for you there?!” 

Ishikawa looked away, then back again, shrinking away slightly in his seat, “Y-Yeah. Uh, a talent scout saw me play at that volleyball game-” 

Komaeda’s hands slammed onto Ishikawa’s desk. Ishikawa almost fell out of his chair in his attempts to get away, 

“I-It’s for your volleyball?!” Komaeda couldn’t control his breathing, “Y-You’re ultimate- You- You’re an- You’re an Ultimate! Ishikawa! Is this true?!”

Ishikawa held up a hand, “D-Dude, calm down-” 

“What’s your Ultimate?! What did they say!?” 

Ishikawa moved further away, “Komaeda, you’re freaking me out man, back off-” 

“I knew it.” He laughed, quiet and breathless for the lack of air he was managing to keep in his lungs. His head spun, his fingers tingled, he felt like he was on the verge of explosion, he gripped himself, as if it could keep him together, help keep in all the emotion crashing and rushing through him threatening to tear him apart completely, “I-I knew it! I knew it! Yo-You’re amazing Ishikawa! I always knew you were special. I could tell from the moment I met you. I knew you were someone amazing-” 

A hand smacked across his cheek, flinging his head to the side, and scattering all of his thoughts and words to the floor beneath him. 

“Komaeda, you will be silent in my classroom when I demand it!” 

Komaeda brought a hand up to his cheek, eyes wide and wet as he stared at his teacher, 

“Do you think any of this is appropriate? Do you think what you have to say is worth more than my teaching?” 

Komaeda stared at Mr. Yoshida, “No.” 

“Then I suggest-” 

“Only what Ishikawa has to say matters anymore-” 

The teacher’s hand slammed down onto the top of his desk. A girl across the room yelped, others flinched in their seats. Komaeda stared down his teacher without blinking. 

“Get out of my classroom. I will not allow you to waste any more of your classmate’s time with this! Stand outside in the hallway until I call you back.”

Komaeda thought about retaliating. Who the hell was some nobody teacher to tell him what to do when an Ultimate was right there? 

But his cheek still stung, and when he looked again at Ishikawa, he didn’t say anything, just stared at him. Komaeda’s stomach turned cold. He lowered his head, and left the classroom without a word, hand still nursing the burn from the slap. Murmurs flitted through the class as he left. He caught a few choice words in between the stifled giggles; ‘freak’, ‘weirdo’, ‘faggot’. 

He didn’t see how the last one was relevant. 

The way Ishikawa had looked at him haunted him as he stood outside his classroom, obedient and stiff. He’d stared at him like he was a stranger. He looked terrified. He stared at Komaeda like he was some kind of monster. 

Komaeda blinked away the stinging in his eyes. 

He didn’t care about the rest. About his teacher, about the things those people said. He didn’t care if people knew he was weird and off-putting. But Ishikawa was different. He was the one person he hoped would never look at him like that. 

He’d only been happy for him. Everyone else had spent all morning praising him for it. Why was it so different when he did it? Was he truly so hated? Even by Ishikawa? No one else understood him like Komaeda did. No one else understood the magnitude of the power he held, of just how important he was. So why was he the one shamed?

If he wasn’t going to have a talent, then why couldn’t he at least just be normal through and through? What was he doing wrong?

Komaeda’s legs ached. His feet felt hard and hot. He shifted, foot to foot, to try and relieve it. It didn’t do much to help. Teachers came and went between classes, but other than asking why he was standing outside, none of them told him to move. 

After too long, way, way too long, the lunch bell rang, and Mr. Yoshida finally re-appeared. The frown lines had only gotten deeper over the year. Komaeda had watched it happen. The same with the grey in his hair. It had been minimal at first. Now, he was more grey than black. He pushed his glasses up his flat nose bridge, and they instantly began slipping back down his face. 

“Faculty office. Now.” 

Always straight to the point. Unlike his appearance, that didn’t change. 

He stood silently next to his teacher’s cubical. Mr. Yoshida took his sweet time dealing with him, brewing himself a cup of coffee, and filling a Cup Noodle pot with boiling water from the office’s dispenser. He wrapped it in napkins and carried it over to his seat. Komaeda watched him take out a pair of wooden chopsticks from his plastic combini bag. He snapped them and they broke unevenly, splintering at the top. He clicked his tongue, then sighed, setting them on top of the pot, and pulling out a file from his drawer. 

“Komaeda Nagito.” He said, with the same tone someone announces they have to get out of bed early on a cold winter’s morning, or how they forgot milk after travelling all the way to the shop and back. He rubbed his face roughly, his loose skin pulling and shifting under his rugged hands, paying no mind to how the movement almost hit his glasses off his face. He just corrected them, and sighed heavily once more, before glancing over the files in his hands once more. 

“Underweight, little to no athletic ability, no history of participation in club activities, little to no participation in classroom activities, no relationship with your peers, a consistent string of absences due to sickness or otherwise, and despite your stellar academic abilities, no prospects and zero ambition.” 

He glanced up at him over his glasses. Komaeda stared back. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that. 

“What am I supposed to do with this, Komaeda?” 

Komaeda smiled sweetly and chirped, “Nothing, I suppose.” 

Komaeda watched his teacher’s jaw tighten. The file hit the desk with a slap. 

Ah, the wrong answer. Oops. 

“I try to be sympathetic to your…” His hand stopped rubbing his eyes, only to spin in the air as he drew out the word, “situation.” 

The word weighed heavy in his stomach like a lump of burning rock. He looked out the window instead. It was raining. The weather channel had said it was going to be sunny all week. How convenient, that someone had mistaken him this morning for someone else and insisted a lost umbrella upon him. He would’ve been stuck otherwise. 

“But there’s only so much I can do.” He continued, “Have you been meeting with your social worker?” 

“Of course.” Komaeda assured him truthfully. The consistency of the meetings and whether they were actually of any use was another thing entirely.

“Of course.” Mr. Yoshida repeated, defeated. A timer went off on his phone, and he stopped it’s beeping with a heavy hand. He sighed, once more, a third time just since he’d sat down then stared at Komaeda. 

Just as Komaeda wondered if maybe he was supposed to leave now, Mr. Yoshida asked, 

“What do you want to do, Komaeda?” 

He scrunched his smile in something apologetic, “Ah, pardon?” 

“How do you envision your future? What’s the end goal here?” 

Komaeda blinked. For a second, his smile faltered. 

“End goal?” The phrase felt strange on his tongue. He turned to look out the window once more.

Future? A future, for someone like him? What a ridiculous concept. How was someone as useless to society as him even supposed to consider a future? What was the point in someone like him having aspirations and goals? Such a thing, it’d only be insulting. 

“I suppose…I haven’t really considered it.” He replied, quiet, his mind still buried under the strange and confusing question. 

“Do you even know what you’re going to do after middle school?” Mr. Yoshida asked, exasperated, tapping a pen mindlessly on his desk. 

His only goal in life was to do whatever was needed to ensure that those with talent could thrive as beautifully as possible, so they could produce as much hope as possible. To lay the groundwork, and hope it was his back their feet pushed off of as they elevated everyone else into a better, brighter future. One better than the misery he existed in now. Anything else was just a waste. 

Though he supposed ‘Human Springboard’ wouldn’t be an acceptable answer. 

Komaeda’s smile turned sharp, before he softened it to something playful, 

“Maybe I’ll apply to Hope’s Peak Academy. I hear they have a reserve course now!” He laughed, bubbly and light, but it slowly died as his teacher’s expression only turned stonier. He swallowed, then smiled nervously, “Sorry, that was a joke.”

“This is a joke to you, then. Is that it?” The low tone he spoke with made Komaeda swallow hard. Mr. Yoshida’s gaze drilled into him harshly.  Then, he sucked his teeth, and flippently threw the pen he was fussing with onto his desk, “What a childish way of conducting yourself.” He shook his head. His hand made a fist on the desk; Komaeda tensed, “Your classmates are working hard to build a future for themselves, and you’re standing here, getting grades some of these kids would die for without even trying, and it’s all one big joke to you. How do you think that makes them feel? To have their efforts disrespected like that, by someone who's supposed to be working with them to lift them up?

“Do you think because your parents died you can get away with acting so selfishly? Then you wonder why they’re so hesitant towards you. I think you need to take a good, long look at yourself, and wonder if this is really how you want to conduct yourself. Because one day, you’ll be looking back with regret over all the opportunities you let pass you by because you were too busy laughing at your own, childish joke, and there will be no one around to blame for it but yourself.” He picked up Komaeda’s file, tapped it roughly on the desk to straighten out its contents, before dropping it back into his drawer and slamming it shut. He leaned his head on his hand, his elbow creasing a loose pile of papers on his desk, “Get out of my sight.” 

 Komaeda breathed. In, then out. He smiled, and bowed, low and polite, 

“Thank you, sir. Sorry for disrupting your class, and now your lunch too.” 

Mr. Yoshida didn’t respond. Just hooked some noodles onto his chopsticks and slurped them up, eyes already on his computer. 

Komaeda bowed once more in the entryway of the office and softly apologised again for his intrusion in the office, then closed the door behind him. 

After that, he breathed. He stood in front of the doorway and just breathed. 

Then, the moment was gone. He lifted his head, his hands relaxed from their fists, and he smiled serenely. 

He should go and buy Ishikawa lunch to celebrate, and to apologise. He was sure he’d appreciate that. 

-

Komaeda bought Ishikawa lunch every day from that point on. It was only right. Someone destined to be an Ultimate deserved to eat as well as possible to ensure he had the energy to perform at the top of his game. If Komaeda had the ability to assist him in that way, it was his place to do so. 

Ishikawa never asked, but Komaeda started helping him in any way he could. Ishikawa had been spending more time with other people in his class recently, but still, he sat next to Komaeda, and still they greeted each other every morning.  

During their chemistry class, Komaeda noticed Ishikawa struggling with the questions next to him. Komaeda spent the next few days neatly copying his notes into fresh notebooks, adding in extra information not included in classes that could help, and his own explanations for more complicated subjects. 

When Ishikawa walked into the homeroom to see the books waiting for him on his desk, he’d at first refused them. When Komaeda insisted, he tentatively glanced through one of the books. Komaeda’s hands hugged each other tightly on his lap, shoulders stiffly neutral, and smile detached but polite. Ishikawa’s jaw slowly dropped as he flicked through the book. Komaeda hoped that his explanations were at least a tiny bit understandable. He was sure it was probably pointless, that he’d probably end up confusing Ishikawa more than helping him, but before he could change his mind, Ishikawa accepted the notes gratefully. Komaeda played it off, but he was sure he was moments away from passing out yet again. 

When Komaeda caught him at lunchtime showing the notes to the others he hung around with, he suppressed the annoyance that struck through him. 

But he supposed it was just further examples of Ishikawa’s boundless hope, that he’d waste his precious time trying to help people so below him to improve themselves. Ultimates were truly amazing. 

So, when Ishikawa came to him and asked him for notes like that on other subjects, how was Komaeda supposed to refuse? It was everything he’d ever wanted. Komaeda was ecstatic, holding the conversation close to his chest through the rest of the day. He was so distracted by his joy; he failed to pay attention in class. 

It took him all week, but he did it. He handed them all to Ishikawa, colour coded and labelled.

“Woah, this is crazy dude! You’re so good at this stuff.” He skimmed through the books, and Komaeda breathed through the earth-shaking joy that threatened to tear him apart completely. 

Then, Ishikawa smiled, reached over, and ruffled a hand through Komaeda’s hair. 

There and gone. A warm hand tangled in his hair, jerking his head side to side, shivers tumbled down his back, down his arms, tickled his neck. Goosebumps consumed him as the shivers repeated, flowing back up, rebounding on themselves. Komaeda’s brain went numb as his cheeks flooded with heat, but Ishikawa didn’t seem to notice. 

“You’ve totally saved my ass, bro!” He praised, then looked at the books and sighed, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Komaeda almost didn’t hear him. He was still reeling in the aftermath of his touch. 

When his words finally processed, tensed his jaw to keep the giggling laughter that threatened to burst free contained. He breathily replied that it was no problem, no issue, but even that sounded too happy. 

He could still feel his hand in his hair. Even as he lay in bed that night, staring blankly at the ceiling, the feeling of his fingers ghosted through his hair. Tentatively, Komaeda touched the area, as if it’d feel different. His hand mimicking Ishikawa’s only made the feeling worse. Komaeda covered his face and giggled. 

–

((Ishikawa asks Komaeda to take the bins out for him, Komaeda says yes, and returns to the classroom))

“I don’t get why you hang around him so much.” 

Komaeda recognised that voice. It was Ishikawa’s girlfriend’s friend. The fashionable one. She’d been there, that day that he’d collapsed. He’d recognise her whiny tone anywhere. 

“Are you really that desperate?” 

Ishikawa’s closest friend, that guy with the close-cut hair. Komaeda could imagine the annoying smile he sported as he spoke. 

“Shut up.” Ishikawa mumbled. A chair moved, and there were footsteps. 

“Well, what then?” The girl asked around the gum she was smacking in her mouth. She sounded annoyed, “You keep ditching us to hang out with him instead. You’re, like, the only person in the whole of the school who’s ever done that.” 

Ah, he was right. They were talking about him.

“He so has a crush on you too.” Ishikawa’s girlfriend drawled.

Komaeda’s eyes widened.

No, he didn’t he- He would never-

But that didn’t matter, Ishikawa would think so now regardless. 

“Oh, come on.” Ishikawa scoffed, 

The boy snickered louder. There was a sound of a gum bubble popping, and outside the door, Komaeda’s heart got heavier until it sank to the deepest part of his chest. 

…Did he have a crush on Ishikawa? Was someone like him even allowed to feel like that? 

“No like actually though.” Ishikawa’s girlfriend continued, “He’s so obvious about it.” Snickers sounded amongst them all. Ishikawa stayed silent, “It’d almost be cute, if it wasn’t so gross.” 

No, of course not. Especially not for someone like Ishikawa. 

“Oh, is that why you keep leaving us, huh?” Ishikawa’s friend’s chimed, voice smarmy and greasy with double meaning, “Doing a little more than talking in the back of the class is it-” 

Komaeda blushed as his stomach dropped. His hand gripped his uniform more firmly. He felt sick. 

“Hey, fuck you man!” Ishikawa exclaimed. There was a sound, like commotion. Ishikawa’s friend and that fashionable girl laughed and yelled. Then, the commotion settled, “Augh, why would you even make me think of something like that.” 

He spat it, like the words tasted sour on his tongue. 

Ishikawa would be disgusted at even the thought of something like that. Anyone would. He knew this.  So why did it feel like a knife in his back?

“Well, at least you’re still batting for the right team. Or…Serving? Is that a volleyball thing?” The girlfriend’s friend added stupidly. 

“You should see him when he watches you play.” Ishikawa’s girlfriend. Her voice was low and smooth, before turning a little wistful, “It’s like there’s no one else in the room.” It snapped, turning sharp, as she ground through her teeth, “It really pisses me off.” 

Komaeda collapsed into the wall behind him. This was…This was humiliating. 

His mind flashed back to every game he’d attended to watch Ishikawa. Had everyone there known? They were probably all laughing at him, just to deal with the disgust they felt. 

He hadn’t done it on purpose. He didn’t even know. He hadn’t meant to- He didn’t mean to- 

But none of them would know that. Everyone must have thought he was so audacious and stupid. He must’ve looked so starry-eyed and pitiful.

Komaeda knew his place. He knew. He knew. 

“Didn’t you have a crush on him before?” Her friend dropped, and the words caused an explosion within the classroom. Loud, uproarious laughter, the sound of chairs and tables scraping, rushed footsteps and yelling all collapsing on top of each other. 

A crush on who? 

Him? HER? 

That…Had to be a joke. A mean, callous joke but a joke all the same.

“Oh, shut up, you did too! Everyone did!” The girlfriend’s voice was rushed, obviously embarrassed as she tried to defend herself. Even still, her friend’s and Ishikawa’s friend’s snickers continued to sound, “Then he went and opened his mouth and ruined it.” There was a sigh, and the laughter settled. Ishikawa’s girlfriend still continued to fight, “Plus he’s like, totally creepy. Not just his personality like, his whole vibe. It's like a bad smell. You can’t get over it!” 

“I’ve heard he’s cursed.” The fashionable girl mused, “If you touch him, you get like, 7 years bad luck.” 

“That’s breaking a mirror, moron.” Ishikawa’s girlfriend replied.

“Whatever.” 

“I bet he’s into some freaky shit.” Ishikawa’s friend pondered, then, more excitedly, “You could probably make him your slave, Ishi. Is that it? He’s already your little errand boy.”  

“More than errands-” The girlfriend’s friend murmured,

Komaeda snatched his hands away from his neck and hugged them across his chest, tucking his fists under his arms. He felt caged. Trapped with his feet glued to the floor. He felt the walls closing in around him. 

But then, 

“That’s not it!” Ishikawa yelled. His voice was strong and righteous, splitting through Komaeda’s spiralling turmoil like a soft beacon of light. “I can’t- Ugh you’re so gross!” 

He held his breath tight in his chest.

“Look, I just felt bad for him, okay? He’s always on his own-”

A hush fell over him. He strained, attempting to hear through the door more clearly. But it was no misunderstanding. Komaeda couldn’t hear anything else but anger at his friends, for his sake. 

A lump formed in his throat. A cool, hopeful feeling washed over him; his heartbeat rushed. 

“Yeah, because he’s weird.” Ishikawa’s girlfriend insisted. 

Komaeda huddled closer to the edge of the door. His hand gripped into his chest, creasing his uniform. 

“Well-” Ishikawa started. Komaeda held his breath. 

Ishikawa sighed, heavy and long. Komaeda didn’t even blink. 

“Yeah,” Ishikawa sighed. A beat of silence, then, quietly, “He really freaks me out most of the time…”

Komaeda’s heart stopped. 

“You think I haven’t noticed how he looks at me?” Ishikawa continued, voice picking up confidence the more he spoke. Disgust bleeding further into his tone with every word, “It makes me feel so…Ugh. And the shit he says, you wouldn’t believe half of it. He’s like, really messed up in the head. Nothing he says makes any sense. He keeps going on about like, hope and despair or some shit. I don’t even know. It’s so weird and boring, I don’t get it at all. The constant praise too- even I’ve started finding it annoying.” 

“That’s when you know it’s bad.” Ishikawa’s friend.

“But like, it’s the nice thing to do, right?” Ishikawa continued, “I can put up with it. Everyone needs someone.” 

“Awww, you’re so charitable.” His girlfriend sang teasingly, 

“Oh, so it’s all to get in the good books with the ladies, eh? Like helping a crying puppy. You look better the uglier the puppy is.” Ishikawa’s friend joked. It was a hit. They all laughed along with him. 

“Whatever.” Ishikawa replied, his voice strained from laughter, “When he finally loses it and blows up the school, don’t come crying to me when I’m the only one he spares.” 

“Oh my god Ishikawa!-” 

The door slammed as it hit the end of its track, bouncing back closed slightly before rolling open once more. It commanded silence across the room. Four heads shot to the door and stared, wide eyed.

“Oh, hello there.” Komaeda said pleasantly, tilting his head with his smile. 

Guilty silence choked them. Komaeda paid it no mind, walking past them and towards his desk. They looked between each other. Komaeda played along, and pretended he couldn’t hear them mouthing comments between them. 

The three side characters left. Komaeda glanced up as he gathered his things. Ishikawa’s girlfriend met his gaze and held it. Komaeda stared back, until she turned away, nose high as she left, her friends chittering behind her. The fashionable girl coo-ed at Ishikawa, then continued to laugh as she closed the classroom door behind her. 

Komaeda stared at the door, but it stayed closed. He closed his bag, locked the latch. He meant to pick it up and leave. But when he grabbed it, he stalled. He gripped it tighter.

“...Uh…” Ishikawa voiced. He’d approached him, standing a table away, his hand nervously picking at a dent in its wood. 

Komaeda didn’t respond. He just stared at him. The evening sun was dark. Its light was a warm, deep orange cast over the classroom. It was cloudy outside. Slowly, a cloud covered the sun, and the colour faded. 

Ishikawa cleared his throat, then smiled weakly, “H-how was bin duty, bud?” 

Komaeda smiled, his eyes squinting closed softly, “You don’t need to do this, you know.” 

“I-” 

“It’s fine. I completely get it.” Komaeda shook his head, his smile persisting. He turned his gaze back down to his bag. “You’re right. It’s not like I ever really thought someone as amazing as you would ever think positively of someone like me.” 

“...I-It’s not like that-” 

“I really appreciate the effort though. They’re right. They’re completely right.” His hand gripped into his bag once more, the bones in the back of his hand pushed against the thin skin covering them, “You’ve done more, so much more than I ever deserved.” His voice shook, but still he smiled, even wider, and said softly, genuinely, “Thank you.”

Ishikawa paled. He looked away, his hands in fists, “...D-Don’t thank me…” 

Komaeda blinked, eyes wide, “Why not?” Ishikawa didn’t give him an answer, “She was right. It was a charity. You’ve done so much for someone as needy as me, you deserve all the thanks I could provide.” He stepped forwards, tilting his head further into Ishikawa’s view. Ishikawa avoided his stare. “Is a servant what you want?”  That made him look at him. A hot flush replacing the blood that had previously left his cheeks. “I could carry your books for you-”

“D-Dude-” 

Komaeda stepped further forwards. Ishikawa stepped back, “I could clean your shoes,” His breathing picked up, but his voice didn’t waver. He held his stare on Ishikawa, “I could even use my tongue, anything you want-”

“Hey-”

He stepped forwards again. Ishikawa tried to step back but had to catch himself on a table as he stumbled. Komaeda’s stare bore into him, wide and unblinking. His breathing shook, but despite how much he took in, he didn’t feel any of the benefit from it. His head felt light. His fingers tingled. A static filled his brain and shut out his thoughts. 

“Anything you want.” Komaeda’s voice trembled, he swallowed back the spit that had gathered in his mouth from breathing so hard, “Anything you wanted from me I’d do it for you.” Ishikawa stumbled further backwards, hand up, as if to ward him off,

“Dude-” 

But Komaeda just advanced on him. The tremor in his voice taking over his body as the static increased, swallowing him, until he couldn’t feel anything but the tingling stinging sensation- pins and needles fuzzing his fingers plucking against his nerves. His speech rushed, his words tripping as he slurred out, “I’d do anything you ask of me, no matter how shameful. I’d even let you kill me if it meant it’d make you happy-” 

The fist hit him square in the cheek and sent him flying. He crashed into the tables beside them, their hard edges smacking into his side, catching his ribcage. He caught himself on a chair, but it did nothing but smack pain into his elbow as he smashed into the floor, chair and table legs scraping harshly across the wood floor and clattering together in the collision. 

He stared up at the ceiling tiles of his classroom, dazed. 

“Shit-” Ishikawa gasped; his own breathing now laboured. He stumbled back a step, falling into a table and scrambling upright again as it screeched across the floor. “Shit I-I didn’t-” He panted, swallowed hard, “You’re just really fucking freaking me out dude!” 

A strange feeling bubbled up inside him. It pushed behind his eyes, clogged his throat, constricted his chest, and continued to bubble and bubble. Komaeda opened his mouth, and the bubbles rushed out as laughter. 

It started slow, but snowballed, rolling quickly out of his control, louder and louder. He pushed himself onto his elbows, dropped his head forwards, and his laughter shook him. He brought a hand up to his mouth, touched it lightly, then winced. When he pulled back, he saw red. 

His laughter halted; he turned to look up at Ishikawa. The boy stared down at him, eyes wide and shaking, face pale. Komaeda slowly held up his hand and showed him the blood. He smiled, and it pulled the cut further. Blood tickled as it dripped down his chin, his stomach flipped, and he gagged against the taste of it filling his mouth. 

Ishikawa ran away. 

His breathing stuttered, then was snatched away once more by a loud, screeching laughter as blood seeped out of his cracked lip. Komaeda couldn’t even feel it. The blood dripped onto his uniform and Komaeda sat on his classroom floor and laughed. He laughed until it made him gag, then he laughed some more. His laughter bounced off the walls and echoed back at him. The classroom, laughing at him as well. He stopped only to spit more blood, and the sight of it splattering against a floor his classmates had just put so much effort into cleaning made him laugh harder. 

The cloud that had moved over the sun passed by, and the sunlight shone down into the classroom uninterrupted once more. 

[silverwasafukintrainwreck]

I MADE AN INTRO :D (last edited 29/05 [day/month])

why hello, everyone! i’m silver, your local writer who’s very Too Much into fandom stuff (which is all under the cut).

master posts: all my stories, song lyrics, (more to be added)

sucking it up and making an updated list of fandoms:

main ones currently/Faves: Danganronpa, Jennifer’s body, MSM, The Hundred Line (not finished yet, no spoilers please!!), Hollow Knight, Class of 09, MLB, TCOAAL, Ut-Dr, DDLC, Alice in Wonderland, Kakegurui, Heathers, Mean Girls, Euphoria, PASWG, The Gaslight District, TADC…

Niche ones: Sorry, But I’m not Into Yuri!, Hateful Woman, Rogue Soul/ Swords and Souls, People Playground, You and Me and Her, Ghosts (CBS), 2018 Flash games in general (especially Nitrome games), SDR2 Reader insert called ‘Ultimate DJ’ (i am this thing’s biggest fan), Two Broke Girl$… Dead Boy Detectives, DHMIS…

Don’t engage as much in the fandoms, but still like: FNAF, Cuphead, BATIM, Minecraft, Gacha Life/Club, Steven Universe, She-Ra, The Owl House, AATLA, Poppy Playtime, Hellaverse (kinda losing interest)…

i’m a creature with blue hair and pronouns (occasionally purple or pink colored eyes, but i haven’t yet unlocked the ability to live with lenses 24/7)

not mandatory if you don’t know how to use them, but i would appreciate the use of tone tags. i suck at reading tone and my mind is convinced everyone is hostile and mad at me LMAO

i dont have money to get diagnosed yet but i suspect Autism/ADHD, as well as looking into other things. alternatively if you don’t wanna take that as absolute truth, just know that i struggle with social interaction (even if it’s online)

i’m an aspiring author, with Big Plans to make scripts and story ideas for video games, comics, fanfictions*, and maybe even animations! who knows! i’m very confident i can make that dream a reality :3

*i already make these, since they don’t require as much maintenance as the rest and i can work alone. however i don’t publish a lot of my stuff. if you’re interested in what i do have out for the public, i have a wattpad account with two (wildly different) dangan fics. one of them is under rewrite cause the first half of the chapters are very not good. if you’re interested, my user is Silverisatrainwreck (yea, they censored me. ridiculous, utterly ridiculous)

another dream for the future is becoming a voice actor! i simply adore making impressions and silly little voices and repeating what my favorite characters say (read: vocal stims). it’s not as prevalent as writing, but hey! it’s really really fun and holds a special place in my heart.

back on the topic of writings i do publish, i have poetry! you can find it under the z=47.poetry tag, and i have maybe a dozen, some of which i believe to actually be really good, so it would mean the world to me if you checked that out!

i will update this eventually, but that’s all for now! have fun on this blog!!

tagging system:

(this is more for myself than anything else)

z=47.txt - text posts

sillyver - things that are not that serious or relevant and usually don’t go in the text tag; miscellaneous tag

z=47.rb - reblogs

z=47.poetry - you can find all my poems here!

z=47.ask - all asks that i answered

z=47.fav - my personal favorite posts, either from myself or reblogs

z=47.drabble - snippets of text, either narrative or poetry that i come up with on the spot

silverse - collective tag for everything involving my narrative writing

oc: [character] - every post where i talk about a specific OC

silverse/[story] - every post where I talk about a specific story of mine

medalha de prata - posts in portuguese

people tags!

silvers beating heart - my platonic wife :D (collective tag)

moonlight - one of my bestest friends !

roman numerals - BEST FRIENDDDD <33 collective tag) (will add more i’m just tired) @mioxyl

• silvers angel - mio <3

• hawt bitch <3 - grr why do you never front

• demon fangs - haha you love me >:3

teenage mutant ninja sillies - @b0ydeleted :0

silvers circus gang - irl friendgroup that i adore

silver's cats - gee i wonder

i don’t really have any other tags- i think

[yana125]

I assume that at least one other person will ask you about the Tao fic (👀), so I'm here to tell you that I'm VERY intrigued in "Bravern - Third Time" XD

Ohohooooh! :D This one is a good one (or would be a good one if I ever finished it X'D). The full title is "Third Time's the Charm" and it's Isami's turn to go back in time. So in the last battle only Bravern/Smith died and Lulu breaks down because she couldn't save everyone. Fast forward ten years later when the time machine is finished and the story is about Isami and Lulu's last day together because wibbly wobbly timey wimey. And the snippet I want to share with you is a flashback:

It was getting darker in the living room as the sun was getting closer to the horizon and soon they had to turn on the light. There were a few empty packs and ice cream cups on the coffee table in front of them, most of them emptied by Lulu. But now even her usual appetite decreased, she only swirled the melted mint chocolate ice cream while she was staring at the TV screen with her head on Isami’s shoulder.

It was past 10 pm and they were only halfway through Spar Kaiser.

“Hey, Dad” Lulu said as the next episode started.

Isami hummed.

The first time Lulu had called him ‘Dad’ was an accident.

It had been two years after they’d moved into this house. Lulu had been making pancakes while Isami had been watching TV in the living room. Both of them had been deep in their own little worlds when Lulu had called out to him from the kitchen.

“Do you want maple or chocolate syrup with your pancake, Dad?”

At first Isami hadn’t even noticed it. He had been debating in himself which one he would prefer when he’d finally realized what Lulu had said.

It had been the moment Lulu had realized it too judging by the sound of something dropping and splashing on the floor.

It hadn’t taken a few seconds for Lulu to appear in the doorway, face flaming red, eyes welled up with tear.

“I’m sorry, Isami! It just slipped! I didn’t—”

In that moment Isami had realized a few things.

First, this hadn’t come from nowhere. Lulu had referred to it as something that just slipped. So it had probably meant that the girl had been thinking about him as her father.

Second, as much as it had shocked him he hadn’t minded it. Something had clicked into its place in his mind because yeah, of course, Lulu had been his daughter for a while now.

And third…

Oh…

He and Smith had a daughter.

He hadn’t been able to say any words. The two of them had huddled together on the couch and had taken turns crying or cried together.

They had considered themselves a family before that, but that moment had really solidified that idea.

And now, years later, they were sitting on this same couch.

“I don’t want to fall asleep.”

But the circumstances were different.

The opposite, even.

Isami shifted a bit so he could look down at Lulu.

“Why not?”

Lulu scooped up a spoonful of melted ice cream and poured it back into the cup.

“Because if I fall asleep it will be tomorrow when I wake up and you’ll be gone.”

Isami closed his eyes as reality finally crashed on him after this perfect day.

A perfect last day.

“Lulu…”

“I just don’t want this day to end, you know?” Lulu cut in. She sighed and put the cup on the coffee table. “I want this day to last for a bit longer. We can’t even finish our Spar Kaiser rewatch together…”

Isami shifted so he could put an arm around Lulu and pull her closer. He rested his head on hers, staring at the TV but not really watching the episode.

“You can’t go back together” Miyu had told them the day she started working on this project years ago. “We don’t know how this time travel works. Is it one stable point in time where everything returns to or it always creates a new timeline? If it’s the former, then Lulu’s original self could erase our Lulu’s consciousness if the two of you ended up earlier in the timeline.”

Miyu had looked into his eyes with so much sympathy and sorrow Isami had wanted to look away.

“I’m so sorry, Isami. But only you can go back.”

And wasn’t that just fucking perfect…

They knew that this day would come. They hadn’t talked about it, and Isami personally had banished the thought of it out of his mind until Miyu had called them the other day.

The machine was ready.

It now only needed Isami to be there.

Breaking the news to Lulu had been something Isami had always dreaded. How would he even tell her? How would she react?

But Lulu had put on a brave face. She’d shown a huge smile to Isami, eyes sparkling.

“Let’s spend tomorrow together!” she’d said.

[clownery-and-fuckery]

LAST LINE CHALLENGE !!!!

I was tagged by @collophora (thank you btw!!!) and while I haven't been able to write an awful lot because of life stuff (I GOT INTO COLLEGE !!!!! IVE BEEN SO BUSY THESE LAST FEW DAYS/WEEKS AIW AOANOAB)

Anyway!!!! I've got some snippets from TBB and Disco Elysium (which I'm so excited to write about wjaiqnq) so you're getting BOTH !!! :D rant over LETS GO !!

"He's gone because of me, Echo!" Tech's voice was rough as he pushed away. He winced at the stinging tug of his injuries, looking up to see Victor's stricken face, and Echo's pitying frown.

Tech's breath came ragged, harsh as he panted, and they just... watched. He looked away, unable to handle their sad stares any longer. They burned him.

"Crosshair's gone because of me." He repeated coldly, quietly, feeling something inside him tighten and harden. Protective, shielding the pain that threatened to spill with the admittance.

He stood taller, shoving past the two clones to limp towards the cockpit. "They'll regret it," Tech swore, more to himself than them as he pulled his armour back on. "I'll make them regret it."

This is from an upcoming chapter from "The Hecatomb Initiative" !!!!! Haven't stopped writing for it just yet >;] (totally recommend that fic btw I'm really proud of it :D)

Next up- Disco Elysium snippets !! I've never written for them before so I'm so, SO excited!!!

Kim cleared his throat. "Yes, it will be a..." He gave Harry an affectionately apologetic look. "–a nice change of pace. Thank you for the opportunity, Officer Minot."

Judit opened her mouth to shrug off the thanks, to say it was no problem, but the sudden warmth in the Lieutenant's expression caught her off guard. Kim gave her a small, almost unnoticeable smile.

She felt a rush of.. something, and she blinked. "Of course, Lieutenant Kitsuragi." She nodded, giving Harry an odd look.

Maybe that was why he sought out Kim often. This warm affection was definitely something she wanted to feel again. She supposed it was its rarity that drew Harry in. It definitely seemed to pull her.

Kim is everyone's favourite, this fic captures that. I think. Love a bit of Kim Kitsuragi myself ngl. Anyway I've got three Disco Elysium fics in the works at the moment, one of them is multichapter though so that one might take a while to get out !!!!

This is so long omg, I feel bad for not posting as often as usual !! I hope these will make up for that until I get proper fics back out!!!!!!!!

ALSO!!! NPT: @lifblogs, @keef-a-corn, @moss-tombstone, @shortriver0 and any other mutual who wants to take part !!

[dootznbootz]

hello hi hello i am here to hold out my little bowl and ask for a 'penelope abducted' snippet please

*coughs up blood and places strange, radioactive goop in your bowl* 🙃

I wouldn't say it's a snippet but it's more of a

SCRIPT

with some "writing" slapped in between. (there's a reason why I take forever to write things :'D Or then they end up like this)

I don't have a reason for Paris kidnapping Penelope, this is more to just explore characters and their emotions as I LOVE THAT SHIT. Honestly, this whole thing doesn't make too much sense plotwise lol. Don't think about the logical shit, JUST SIT BACK AND FEEL THINGS. This unedited af and it's basically first draft, so while I think the concepts are okay, the writing is sloppy.

This is a younger Hector, why he's a lil bit more unsure. Odysseus and Penelope are around 25-26. Telemachus isn't here yet. Realistically, Hector would be dead, but I REALLY want a certain conversation between them >:)

Honestly, writing this made me weirdly learn I write more/better when the text is smaller :P BUT I'm sorry anon, I'm sending out what I got when I didn't do that. as..you sent this a while back and I should get on it. I also tried not to "headhop" as I know that's "not a good writing habit" but oh my fuck. Take me outside and shoot me in the backyard. It's AGONY and feels so fucking BORINNNG to write. What's the point if I don't know every single DETAIL?!?!? kljhuytdfuyghk

ANYWAYS

Warnings: Miscarriage mention, violence.

Andromache whimpered as the man, Aethon of Same, he had called himself, pulled the knife closer to her throat. Smoke and screams sounded from outside as whatever godlike blasts went off once more as King Odysseus ran through Troy.

Hector felt anger and despair surge through him. For every blast, another sibling of the fifteen taken hostage dies. His throat burned.

(More stuff. Don’t wanna do now. Aethon pulls a "whoops. I missed." and cuts Andromache's collarbone to get Hector to comply.)

“I am without weapons, let her go now.”

Aethon nodded, only to push her into the arms of the other two men with him, held once more.

“You said you would-”

“Let her go? I did. She’s simply no longer held by me. You will guide us, and if you try to lead us astray, my soldiers here will not miss Lady Andromache’s throat like I did.”

“You are without honor! There is no reason to do this. I will show you to where Lady Penelope is, you didn’t need to take my wife-”

His words were cut off when a large hand cut off his words by grabbing his neck, the sounds becoming a squeak as it left his mouth.

Gray eyes burned into him as they got closer to his face. “There is no honor in kidnapping a queen while she recovers from a great pain either! Barely back on her feet and taken from her home.” Aethon hissed, trembling with a barely restrained rage. He breathed slowly, before letting go. “Simply repaying the favor...I will not repeat myself; You will show us where she is.”

Hector started to walk forward, restrained as he was. He remembers how Penelope spoke with such warmth for her husband. “Does your King approve of your methods?”

Aethon chuckled darkly, flicking the dagger between his fingers before tossing it to one of the men who held Hector. “Why do you think he sent me? Move along, Prince of Troy.”

(Stuff happens. Cassandra is muttering to everyone that no one will be hurt as long as they did as told, (no one believes her).One of Hector's brothers tries to step in only for Aethon to pull a one-punch-knock-out like he does with the Irus in the Odyssey as a beggar. One of Hector's sister-in-laws is naiad-born, he gives her a look, not realizing Aethon noticed her ears as well and is letting this happen. Aethon knows about Naiads just as much.)

Hector lifted his head as much as he could with how he was restrained, and gathered strength in his voice. “Lady Penelope! A man by the name of Aethon of Same is here to escort you!”

No reply. All that could be heard is more screams outside as another blast as loud as thunder went off. Another sibling is now dead. He tried to focus on the task.

The door was somehow blocked from the inside, despite how much she raged at being blocked in there by Paris himself. 

Hector started to shift his shoulders a bit. Fear gripped him as he glanced over to Andromache once more, still crying and bleeding from the wound on her collarbone. Her dress now sticking with red as blood seeped through. 

He looked forward again. “Lady Penelope,” Louder this time. “Are you in there?”

No reply. There seemed to be shuffling but he could not truly tell with how his ears were ringing.

Hector turned his head around to look at Aethon, the brutal man, hoping to make him understand that he was trying. That she should be here. 

From under one of his brother’s helm, sharp gray eyes flicked from the door back to Hector. His strong arms were tense as they crossed over his chest. It disturbed Hector how it fit him as if it were his own. A flash of light went across his hard face as another blast happened close by. He was unfazed

Hector was about to plead again, for the man to let Andromache go and take him if he felt the need before Aethon lifted a hand for him to be silent.

Aethon stood in front of the door then, eyes looking down towards the crack at the bottom of the doorway as he watched for movement. He frowned when there was nothing. He took a deep breath and leaned forward a slight bit, “Queen Penelope! We are here to take you home!”

A quick “Oh!” and a crash of pots sounded. 

Aethon’s eyes blazed and teeth gritted as he grabbed and rattled the door handle. “Penelope!”

He panted hard, the door handle now bent from his strength. He began to frantically throw his shoulder into the door, ramming himself and charging like that of an angered boar. 

“Penelope! Are you hurt?” His voice strained. Hector wonders if this man was related to Penelope in that he was so informal.

Another blast sounded and another shuffle and crash sounded from inside the room. Aethon swallowed a breath and he growled as he savagely rammed again. One hand going to undo the strap of the helm he wore, he pulled it off his head, revealing a tight braid of auburn curls on his head. Aethon began slamming the helm into the hinges of the door until one came off. The dented helmet in his hand, he once more barreled into the door. This time it worked. 

Aethon frantically looked around the room before an “Odysseus!” sounded from his left to which he turned swiftly to. 

The fear on Aethon's face turned to joy as he called her name back, lifting his arms to wherever she came from to pull her to him. Her bare feet dangled a short bit as she rested her chin on his shoulder and clung to him, before he sank to the ground. His knees barely missing the shattered pottery. A sob of relief escaped his lips as the lady kissed his face between comforting words.

It suddenly clicked into place. This wasn’t just a devoted captain to a king, this was a devoted husband. 

King Odysseus.

Hector could only watch in confused awe at the scene that unfolded. This man, this king, was weeping. To any outsider, it would look as though it was he who was being rescued. The strong shoulders that burst through the oaken door now shook with sobs. His fingers, ones that had bruised his own neck, were now caressing Penelope’s back, trembling as they combed through her hair. For her or his comfort, Hector did not know. 

Penelope soothed, a tearful smile on her face as she scratched at his scalp in small circles as he cradled her. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not hurt. He didn’t touch me”

A whimper escaped him. He lifted his head from her bosom and tears hung from his lashes. A hand, blood already dried from the broken jaw of Thoon, gingerly touched her abdomen.

Penelope’s face twisted up and more tears fell from her silver eyes as she told her husband something Hector couldn’t hear.

Hector realized that it had be begun to rain, what had soft pattering became a downpour, as though the couple’s tears had been what filled the clouds themselves. It put out the fires. 

“Andromache!” Penelope gave her husband a knowing yet disappointed look, a few surprised blinks from red rimmed eyes as a response. She took some raindrops on her fingertips from outside. “Let her go. Now.”

The men released Hector’s wife, who immediately went to touch the wound on her collarbone, wincing as she pressed her hand to it. Hector lunged from the men holding him only to be restrained further.

Penelope started to stand, only to be stopped by the shards that still littered the ground. Odysseus, his eyes and hands never leaving her, lifted her up as he walked across the room. The sandals on his feet protecting him.

Andromache shied away a bit before Penelope grabbed her hand as water went to her wound, sealing it as though it had never been there. 

Hector felt sharp eyes upon him and looked back at Odysseus. It…truly was hard seeing him as the same man who had cut Andromache. Once hard as flint gray eyes were now red from tears, calm and calculating. Two trails went down his ashen cheeks and revealed freckles Hector didn’t notice before.

Odysseus took Penelope’s hand and placed it on the collar of his armor for her to pull away. It now being pulled away, he easily reached in and grabbed a damp parchment. Sweat smudged it but it was clearly a map of Troy. Some circles on the map made Penelope shift and give her husband a questioning look only for him to shrug. She gave a glare, he responded with a smirk.

“Your siblings are still alive,” he started quietly. “I swear upon Almighty Zeus that your siblings are still alive upon the ship. At most some have a headache.” He gestured with his head towards the window, a curl that had been tucked by his wife fell from behind his ear with the movement. "If you want your siblings back, my men, my queen, and I will be treated as guests until we leave…after this storm ends, hopefully.”

Hector was about to yell, to call him a liar, before Penelope interrupted. “They are alive, Hector.”

Striking silver eyes were now piercing through him, though not cold, they didn’t hold the same warmth as before. Her cheeks still damp from tears yet her mouth set in a fine line. One hand reached up and held her husband’s face, who gazed at Hector with the same expression. 

Was this what Paris meant when he said that Lady Penelope should be nobody’s wife? The cruelty he spoke of...?

“The rain started as soon as we were reunited. The fires are put out by Lord Zeus... Hector, I would prefer if your siblings joined us with a feast.”

(More bickering talk shit. blahblahblah. Hector realizes that while Penelope was "nice" while in Troy, She does so many tricks that no one realizes, as she's trying to stay alive while waiting and Paris is scared of her as Aphrodite isn't here. Hector realizes that she's just as cold and that Odysseus is "just a guy" in way. Realistic? No. But I want Hector alive so then a certain convo can happen >:)

(Again, this is unedited. :'D so yeah. it's not great right now)

She sat up to look back at him, his eyes already looking watery still but she would let him decide if he would share with her or not. 

Penelope didn’t have to wait long as he relaxed his shoulders and took a deep breath, once more shoving his head under her neck, like how Anthos would shove her little body against Penelope’s for pets. 

Odysseus took peace in this silence, her chilled body against his own once more. Her being taken from him was a fear he had never experienced before. (more stuff)

“I hate that we're trapped here until...Whatever it is the gods want us here for is done."

"I know. We should be in our palace, in our nest...But we're together... And we have their favor as of now...They didn't even notice what we've taken yet."

Odysseus smirked, reassuring Penelope a little bit. She waited more for what was really bothering him. (more stuff)

"The Timing of everything…It frightens me.”

“Timing?” 

He nodded. “First, our…Our loss,” His voice cracking at the end, his warm palm pressed against her lower belly. She swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing her own pain down in hopes he would continue. 

“Then the Pirates, and then among them that…Paris, taking you away. I couldn’t hear the gods. I-” Tears started to spill now, finally flowing from the dam he had put up. “I am always so afraid of losing you after each loss. I never thought…I never thought I could ever possibly lose you like this. That the gods decided that I’ve caused enough pain and that you’d be best with another husband…”

(more sappy crying. When am I not making shit sappy and weepy?)

She chuckled, “You came with so few men and thought you had the gods against you and you still come to get me? You really are a silly man.”

Hector is alive for a conversation that will be better than this.

Hector watched as King Odysseus’ smile shined as he watched Lady Penelope race across the pasture; a request she had before they would leave.

Hector knew she had good horsemanship, remembering the day she first tried to leave for the shores only to be returned. But he was surprised the King of Ithaca agreed, even more that he wasn’t with her as well, as he has been woven to her side since he came. 

And Hector couldn’t help but be angry once more. 

How was this smiling, doting man the same man who terrorized his city?

“Spit it out.”

Odysseus still watched Penelope as she laughed as she rode one of Hector’s large dapple grays. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know what you’re thinking about. Spit it out.” 

Hector huffed and shook his head at the king. How could he even start?

“Even if the messenger you apparently sent did get to us, and we were too late, as you thought…Why was your first plan of action to terrorise us?”

Odysseus twisted a ring he had on his finger, seemingly amused by Hector’s question. “Prince Hector, I had to make sure you wouldn’t say no when I asked again.”

“Would you have even asked?” Hector hissed, bracing his shoulders a bit.

Odysseus chuckled. “You got me there.”

Hector seethed. “I will admit that Troy did the first offense and I am very grateful that everything went peacefully, but to retaliate to such extreme-”

“To even compare what your brother did to what I did is stupid,” His hands gripped the fencepost, knuckles white. “Be thankful Troy still stands, Son of Priam.”

Hector was taken aback by the venom in Odysseus’ voice, having not heard that since the very same white knuckled hands had held his throat…

Hector keeps forgetting Aethon and Odysseus are the same man.

Odysseus turned his head back around towards the pasture as he heard Penelope’s laughter, his shoulders easing as she raced by. 

“What would it take for you to do what I did, Prince Hector?”

“What?” 

Odysseus stood up straight, waiting until Hector looked back at him before he continued. “Maybe you wouldn’t be able to come up with the same plan,” -he ignored Hector’s rolling eyes- “But what would have to happen for you to ‘go mad’ as you said? I held back and you still think so lowly of me…Do you think you’re above it?”

Odysseus stood right in front of him, those flint eyes seeming to pry him open. “Or…Do you even know what would make you do that? Do you think you have something so important to you that you’d defy gods just to make things right again?” 

More (hopefully) quality stuff will replace this. But I LOVE the thought of Hector (and many of the Trojans) falling for the two's charms only to suddenly remember. "Wait...You guys are violent as fuck". Also How "Odysseus would sacrifice all of Ithaca for Penelope and Telemachus but I don't think Hector would do the same for Andromache and Astyanax" which klsjdf dklsjf kl FUCK YEAH. I SO BADLY WANNA COOK WITH THAT!!! I JUST NEED to get more good ingredients :'D

Notes/reasons/just more stuff

While I don't have a reason as to why Paris kidnapped her, I desperately didn't want Paris to TOUCH her as holy shit, I'm tired. So I had to think of something that was realistic that would make it so that he couldn't and well, Odypen already experience some miscarriages over the years and with the potential angst??? Yeah. :'D Also she scares Paris. He USED to have long hair. (Penelope doesn't have a goddess making her be nice)

Odysseus' plan is supposed to be sloppy kind of. I'm also not a fucking battle strategist. I'm making this up. He doesn't have a huge army and is so so terrified and angry. He basically rushes out (despite being told not to) on one of the pirates boats (undercover in a way). They DID send a messenger but we know he's violent. Basically a few of his men snuck into Troy and quickly stole some armor and snuck around using the fires (idk olive oil) as a distraction. Honestly he's fucking lucky. He's not the experienced and calm(ish) man he is in the Iliad and the Odyssey. His plan is relying mostly on fear.

Penelope did try to sneak out once on horseback and that's why she's like "I wanna do that again. I can't on Ithaca. I wanna have one more chance to do it"

I kind of plan for Penelope to kind of be seen as "kinder" and they use that to their advantage.

I kind of want Penelope and Hector/Andromache to bond over fertility problems as idk, drama and why she cares for them, AND they're barely at 2 years into their marriage and get SO MUCH more shit for it because... Priam is a fucking RABBIT of a man (no hate against him but Idk how tf he can MOVE. He is trying to create his own army)

I so desperately wanted to switch to Andromache's POV so often as I kind of want to compare the two couples and how they relate to one another. but that's the headhopping in me :'D O: We'll be leaving now. P: Not without compensation. Later on P: "YOu didn't see that amazing cauldron they have?!" O: "Penelope, I was a bit preoccupied and freaking out. Besides you were the treasure I needed to bring back home- OH MY GODS" P: I KNOW?!?! You're such a sweetie. 😘

Also Penelope, pulling some jewelry out: I grabbed these. I think this one will fit your middle finger. Odysseus, 🥹: Penelope, you are what it means to adore.

Anon, I'm sorry it's not really a snippet but I hope you still enjoyed :'D Sorry about the radiation I put in your bowl 😅

[askstevella]

Watching Agatha All Along Be Like 🪄

Featuring mother & son —> Bradley & Stella

——

Some spoiler for anyone who didn’t watch it btw 😅

————

Episode 1/2

The two were hiding out in the dinning room of the house. Usually all the avengers and magic crap was in the garage or basement. Expect for a few things, such as Stella’s mini magic mirror which was the size of an iPad. The two sense something was going on, well more Bradley as he was secretly trying to test out magic and clocked in the mess.

In response the mirror was displayed on the table showing snippets of Agatha and her damn journey when suddenly—

Bradley using the spell book and paused, “Who the heck is that kid?”

He points to the boy with Agatha.

Stella popped her head into the room, clocking in the looks of the boy and her eyes widen. She swallowed her breath and waved a hand as a warm orange gentle circle appeared to get a better look of the boy’s face, showing it to her son, who was watching the scene going on. The two whispered and talked among themselves of theories.

She paused seeing Bradley using the spell book. She raised an eyebrow, “Why are you using that thing? I thought you said you weren’t into that magic thing like your uncle is.”

“I know that but then I realized how convenient it was!” He said exclaiming, “Look I got a date on Friday night and I need to look good…what if my date doesn’t like my hair or I say something stupid?”

“First off, your curls are cute. Secondly, your a Strange and a Rogers, being a bit stupid is part of the charm.”

“Should I be worried though? Besides you use magic to make yourself look good too.”

“You’ll be fine I promise.”

He grins, “Can I still use the spell book to help me with my homework assignment and convince my date to like me?”

“I—magic has rules, buddy.” She replied kindly, “You can’t use magic to cheat depending on who you are, it can lead you down a slippery path.”

“Fine…”

He was about to say something else and gasped looking at the screen. Instead he yelled, “Why is Agatha naked?!”

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

Vs Episode 5

Stella was chilling on the couch detangling her messy curls, meanwhile Steve and Kendall were outside doing something important. Every now and then her or Bradley would come that dang song that Agatha’s coven sang.

Kendall wanted to smack his brother for repeatedly singing that song over and over again.

The house was pretty quiet today when suddenly a loud noise was heard and a scream from the dining room.

“I F*UCKING KNEW IT!”

“Language!”

Stella rushed into the dinning room and huffed out of breath seeing Bradley wearing his classic jacket and beanie holding the mirror close to his face mumbling some words. He looked like he just solved a puzzle and is texting it to everyone he knows.

“What happened?” She asked putting her hair up in a bun.

He looks up smirking, “That ‘Teen’ dude, you know the cute very excited boy from the beginning? He is aunt Wanda’s kid…I hope! I saw the crown thingy on him.”

Stella held a matching smirk looking at the mirror and grinned, “I knew it! I shouldn’t be surprised it was obvious.”

“It was?!” He asked in a gasp.

“Honey, i’m a mother myself, I clocked in Wanda’s facial features real quick on that boy.”

“Damn mom you’re smart.”

“And Agatha isn’t for not realizing that sooner.”

Bradley then remembered something and added, “Oh that cute Asian witch, Alice? She died. RIP to her and her pretty fashion sense.”

“She’ll be fine.” Stella replied waving a hand and smiled, “Oh, you never told me how your date went.”

“Eh, it was okay she was into someone else. But a cute barista smile at me yesterday and he gave him extra sugar in of my coffee.”

“Aww that’s sweet!”

—

———

Hehe I had to 😉 tell me what you think 💭

Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 1 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz z @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh h h @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @cherrysft @meiramel l @trulysummersprivate @savemewattpad @yetanotherwells @gaminggirlsstuff @aidanxsophxoxo