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[scarletwritesshit]

🎰 Stelle x Aventurine 🎰 Qī, Nana, Chil!

"This is merely a dream, but it is our dream," Aventurine said as he stared down Stelle, "Wouldn’t you like to make it special for the both of us?"

"That would depend on what your conditions consist of," Stelle said.

"My request is as simple as nothing more than a little game between the two of us,” he said, tipping his hat down.

"You’re so predictable," she said, flicking his hat up to expose his glowing blue and violet eyes. "Everything’s a game to you. Even advances on a woman."

"And what about it? What troubles you about me having a different perspective on the grand scheme of things?"

The slot machines lit up, practically begging any passerby to gamble on a spin or two. Colorful, enticing lights and big promises of jackpots were as far as the eye could see. The slot machines screamed for naught, as not even a band playing for the sole purpose of their own entertainment was within the vicinity with a chance to be the next one lady luck would bless her fortune upon.

This is what heaven looked like to Aventurine. All of the jackpots were his and his alone for the taking. The jackpot he had his eye on, however, was not a prize of monetary value, but rather, the full attention of the young lady strolling alongside him.

“Have a little self-respect, Aventurine,” she said, “You’re acting no better than the scum of the IPC.”

“And what if I was part of that scum myself? Rules and morals are of little concern to me. Bending them a little in my favor is what I do best.”

“You’re gonna have to do a lot of bending to get through to me.”

Aventurine approached Stelle, though she held her ground and refused to back up. He grabbed her chin and lifted her head up so that her gaze was forced to meet his. Stelle glared at him, unwilling to fall so easily for his dastardly attempt at intimidation, but Aventurine got more pleasure rather than frustration out of her reaction. He smiled, staring her down just as fiercely as he firmly held her chin still.

“And bend you will, my darling Stellaron. I believe one of these unoccupied slot machines shall assist you in serving such a purpose,” he said, backing her up.

With every step he took towards her, Stelle matched it walking backwards, until her back collided with one of the slot machines. The music chimed annoyingly loud in her ears and lights flashed at the side of her eyes, but she could care less with Aventurine looming over her. He had his sharp gaze fixated on her and she didn’t want him to take advantage of a split second of vulnerability, lest he got a little too greedy chasing after his jackpot.

He moved his head closer to Stelle, his breath practically on her face. She attempted to strike even the slightest bit of fear into him with a snarl of her own, but Aventurine’s smile only got larger in return. It seemed to be having the exact opposite effect on him, as he was enjoying it more and more as Stelle attempted to toy with him back.

“How cute,” he cooed, admiring her focused glare, “it seems as if the reward only gets sweeter by the moment.”

“And only more out of reach,”

“Hmm? Is that so? I could swear that feeling in my fingers is from you trembling from pure excitement.”

Anticipation was one thing, but Stelle was being pushed with a fair amount of strength into the machine. It was only natural for her body to attempt and counteract the force. Not to mention, she was, secretly but eagerly, awaiting whatever Aventurine had in store for her. Stelle couldn’t lie to herself that she was enjoying such attention being showered upon her from him, though it was rather entertaining to attempt to get a reaction out of Aventurine in the off chance that it would be her turn to break through his defenses.

She remained silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a direct answer. Aventurine smirked, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb as he stabilized himself on the slot machine with his other hand.

“Well then, I see we’re playing hard to get,” Aventurine teased. “You sure aren’t easy to impress, but that just means I have to step up my game.”

He released Stelle's chin, and used his freed hand to further push her against the slot machine. Utilizing a bit of sleight of hand, he revealed a coin in between his fingers and waved in gently in front of Stelle’s eyes. He slipped it into the coin slot located between her lower legs and rested the palm of his hand on the lever.

"You still don’t think this is a game, now do you? Then let’s make it into one. All sevens. It’s a bet."

"A bet for what, exactly?" Stelle asked, perplexed.

"A bet for you, specifically," Aventurine said, tapping on the lever, "and you alone."

"What’s in it for me?"

"Whatever you want. Reduce me to subhuman if you so desire."

"That confident, are you?" Stelle said, pressing her forehead up against his. "I’ll be making you eat your words."

"Oh, we will see about that," he said, gripping the lever, "for I have yet to lose a bet."

Aventurine pulled down on the lever to begin spinning the slots. Out of habit, he rested his free hand behind and back and tightly held it closed. He had no reason to do this, really. What’s the worst that could happen if he lost? Stelle takes full advantage of his generous offer? Surely, that wouldn’t, no, that couldn’t be the case.

"I’d sooner believe the lies of a Masked Fool than think for a second that now, of all times, you’d hit manage to hit a triple seven jackpot.”

Aventurine forced himself to maintain eye contact with Stelle, rather than anxiously glance up at the spinning slots. He couldn’t show his weakness. Especially not now. Yet his hand still trembled in anticipation behind his back.

"Ah, but you’d take a filthy scoundrel’s half-truths over a mutt with the blessing of three eyes’ worth of luck looking down upon him?"

The slots were beginning to slow down. It was all or nothing and Aventurine had to make his words count, otherwise he would only make himself look like a fool.

"I have never lost a bet, so what makes you think your particular case will be my first time?"

A seven clicked into place.

"Either you’re full of yourself, little miss Stellaron, or you’re stupidly bold."

A second seven clicked into place.

"In the end, no matter who it is, no matter what odds are stacked against me, I’m always the victor."

A final seven clicked into place.

"Look up."

Aventurine loosened his hold on Stelle so that she had just enough room to wiggle around and look for herself. His heart was pounding out of his chest, as he still had yet to break eye contact with her. After a few brief seconds that felt like an eternity, he finally glanced above her head to see the results.

All sevens. Of course it worked out in favor of the luckiest man to ever walk Penacony. He could finally breathe, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t have a bit of a scare at least once or twice as the slots were rolling.

"I’ll be damned. You actually hit the jackpot."

"Correction, I already hit the jackpot long before, when I first laid my eyes on you."

"Very clever," she said, "but what do you think you’ve even won?"

"You," Aventurine said, pushing her as far back into the slot machine as he possibly could.

“I’ve been within your grasp the entire time yet you think you’ve won something. Fascinating."

"Whatever do you mean, little Stellaron? I won the bet."

"Yet I won you over first, I believe. What, not willing to accept a tie?" Stelle said.

"I only accept my victories in absolutes," Aventurine said his face so close to Stelle’s that she could feel his every breath, "If you’re so confident about deserving to be the final victory, then I offer for you to slide this coin in and see just how lucky you really are.”

With Stelle still pinned in his grasp, Aventurine held the edge of the coin in between his teeth and offered it to her with a rather inviting glint in his eyes. He expected her to take the token out of his mouth and stick it in the slot machine to attempt to even get close to a jackpot, but instead, she bit down on the side of the coin opposite to Aventurine.

"Now who’s the one cornered?" she asked, managing to smile while keeping a firm bite on the coin.

[scarletwritesshit]

i have like 3 drafts to edit AT LEAST but what do i keep doing? starting more fics of course!

because why would i finish what i started!

(this is a cry for help)

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

[scarletwritesshit]

Additional Contributor - Scarlet Nevermore

Our first additional contributor is Scarlet Nevermore, who has not one, but two lovely stories coming your way!

Twitter || bsky || Tumblr || AO3

[scarletwritesshit]

About the AO3 "No Guest Comments for a while" warning

If you're not following any of AO3's social media accounts you might be in the dark as to what kind of "spam comments" have engendered this banner at the top of the site:

These spam comments have been posted about a great deal on the AO3 subreddit for the past couple of days. Initially they comprised a bunch of guest (logged out users) bot comments that insulted authors by suggesting they were using AI and not writing their own fics. Some examples, from the subreddit:

But it then escalated to outright graphic porn images and gifs being posted in comments, again by logged out 'Guest' accounts. Obviously, I'm not going to give examples of those, but between these two bot infestations, AO3 has clearly decided to act and has temporarily closed the ability to post comments for users who are not logged in with an AO3 account.

Unfortunately, this means that genuine readers who don't have an AO3 account won't be able to leave comments on fics that they enjoy.

If you are a genuine reader who doesn't yet have an AO3 account, I strongly suggest getting yourself on the waiting list for one. More and more AO3 authors are now locking their fics down to registered users only - either due to these bot comments or concerns about AI scraping their work - which means you're probably missing out on a lot of great stuff.

Hopefully guest commenting will be enabled again at some point soon, but I suggest not waiting until then. Get yourself on that list.

Wait times are going to be longer than usual at the moment, due to the current Wattpad purge [info on Fanlore | Wattpad subreddit thread], but if you're in line, then your invite will come through eventually.

Update: There's now a Megathread about this on the AO3 subreddit.

[scarletwritesshit]

i should start dropping random facts about myself on my weekly schedule posts like did you guys know i raise chickens

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

[scarletwritesshit]

*smooshes ur body into the shape of a delicate egg and places u in a nest on the highest branch of the tallest tree like fiona from shrek* thank u for the foolmoon fluff. nobody can hurt u up there.

thank u i am very happy egg

[scarletwritesshit]

Thank you for your latest shiinjihamu fanfic. It gave me the warm fuzzies on the inside and laughter. It was a much needed addition to the shinjihamu community.

:D im glad you enjoyed it!

[scarletwritesshit]

💭Kotone Shiomi x Shinjiro Aragaki 💭 Snitch of the S.E.E.S. Table

"...But yeah, she’s totally into me, dude," Junpei declared proudly.

Akihiko and Mitsuru looked at him blankly, blinking their eyes as if none of Junpei’s words processed in their minds. Aigis wasn’t even looking at him, having most likely swapped to “ignore mode” as soon as he opened his mouth. Ken was invested in his reading his magazine showcasing women’s fashion. Or perhaps it was more akin to looking at the pictures, rather than reading. Fuuka occasionally looked up from her laptop and awkwardly smiled out of pure pity. Yukari tapped away at her phone, disgusted with Junpei’s nonsense being directly funneled into her ears. Kotone was not afraid to express her boredom with a considerably sized yawn. Shinjiro stood silently in the corner, only occasionally bothering to look up at the ruckus.

"Oh come on man! Was anyone listening?" Junpei desperately asked.

"We were trying to not listen to you, Stupei," Yukari said.

"Although I do not possess the necessary qualifications to assess human behavior, I can draw conclusions from the others that you are ‘full of bull shit,’ as they say," Aigis said.

"Man, you guys just like to rain on my parade," Junpei complained, fidgeting with the chopsticks in his instant noodles.

"No…you’re just full of shit," Yukari reiterated.

"It is my belief that all humans are full of shit until one relieves themself in the restroom, so I do not understand how that makes Junpei any different," Aigis said. confused.

"Aigis- never mind. At least we can all agree that Junpei is the dumb one."

"Aw, come on! You guys act like you don’t have a little somethin’-somethin’ going on yourselves, riiiiiight Mitsuru?" he said, nudging Mitsuru on the side.

"Junpei, I wouldn’t have time for a relationship even if I wanted one," Mitsuru said, glaring at him.

"Heh, don’t act like I haven’t seen the way you glance at Akihiko punchin’ away at shadows!"

Akihiko, who just so happened to be sitting beside Mitsuru, looked at Junpei in utter confusion. Mitsuru, on the other hand, was rather displeased with Junpei’s antics, and her face quickly turned red from pure rage(?).

"Thats quite enough, Junpei," Mitsuru said, pushing him away.

Akihiko was still confused, unable to understand why Mitsuru kept her arms crossed and avoided looking at him entirely.

"See? All of have a lil’ special someone we’re eyeing up!" Junpei said proudly, despite almost having his head knocked off by Mitsuru.

"I don’t. I’m too old to have a crush," Ken said while flipping through the women’s fashion magazine.

"Yeah, whatever you say kid. Not even Fuuka is safe!"

Upon hearing her name, Fuuka looked up from her computer in shock. She quickly closed the screen of her laptop enough so that the screen would go black.

"W-what did I do?" she said, not having heard the full conversation.

Junpei walked around the table to where Fuuka was sitting and rested his elbow on her shoulder.

"You know exactly what you with all of those hours spent on World of Warcraft with your boyfriend."

Fuuka immediately flustered. "I-I wasn’t even playing that! I was on Club Penguin just now..."

"Damn, girl, even playing other games with each other!"

"Junpei, please! I have no idea what you’re talking about!"

"Yeah, sure ya don’t," Junpei said, walking away with a wink and finger guns. "See? None of you guys can say crap ‘bout me!"

"I can, and I second the robot girl," Shinjiro said, not even sparing Junpei a second of eye contact.

"Come on, man! There has to be someone you like."

"Nope. Couldn’t care less for that shit."

"What about our leader, here?" Junpei said, gesturing to Kotone.

"You’re still on this?" she said, desperately waiting for him to move on from the topic.

"Well, duh! There has to be a little lady that Shinjiro’s been eyein’ up!”

"Tch," Shinjiro said, crossing his arms and looking away.

"Arf, arf!" Koromaru yapped, putting his muzzle on the table.

"Even Koromaru agrees that something’s up with you! Come on, Shinji, spill it!"

 "I ain’t got nothin’ to spill to you. Plus it’s not like anyone would give a shit about me that much anyways," he said, leaving the dining area to walk up the steps.

"Arf!"

"Koromaru says that Shinjiro’s claims are incorrect," Aigis said.

Shinjiro stopped in his tracks at the base of the stairs.

"Oooh? Who’s the lucky lady eyeing him up?" Junpei said, leaning in closer to Aigis.

"Arf!"

"He says that Kotone has been harboring feelings for him for quite some time now."

Koromaru nodded his head in confirmation.

"So Kotone is the dirty little liar among us" he said, shooting her a sly side eye.

Kotone had been tuning out Junpei’s nonsense while chatting with Yukari, but Shinjiro, on the other hand, heard every last word of it. Junpei was simply under the assumption that he had went upstairs by now, hence he why he continued digging for Shinjiro’s secrets with little to no regard. Shinjiro was very much still on the first floor of the dorm, his heart racing and fearing what Koromaru would say next. He stood as still as he possibly could, thinking that perhaps, Junpei would be too stupid to notice him if he remained motionless. Despite that, with him under the assumption that Shinjiro went upstairs, what more secrets would Koromaru be willing to spill to Aigis and Junpei? It was a double-edged sword, and Shinjiro couldn’t win either way.

"Arf arf!"

"Koromaru says, that is not all."

Shinjiro began to sweat. He was in real trouble now.

"Arf arf, arf!"

"He says that Shinjiro likes Kotone too, but is adamant about not letting it slip."

He says, as Koromaru just let it slip to Aigis and ultimately all of SEES., Shinjiro thought, clenching his jaw and fist.

"I never said a damn thing like that!" Shinjiro said, turning around to face the table of knights and their snitch of a commander that have assembled to conspire against him.

The table went silent, as Shinjiro could feel his face heating up, giving away his stance on the matter. Even Ken and Fuuka looked up at him, frozen in almost complete silence like the rest. The only one who moved a muscle was Koromaru, wagging his tail and happily panting.

"Arf arf!"

"He said, you most certainly said that," Aigis translated.

Shinjiro clenched his fist. Koromaru was a dog, he didn’t know better, and he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at him. Though just this once, Shinjiro wished that maybe Koromaru would keep his mouth shut.

Kotone’s eyes eventually met Shinjiro’s gaze, and he could not bear to look at her for very long. He was outed by the dog, the goddamn dog of all things, in front of the entirety of S.E.E.S. Now, he would be roped into Junpei’s tomfoolery for probably the rest of time. Not to mention, the rest of S.E.E.S. taking their turns at a jab as well. All because of the young lady who, intentionally or not, healed a wound long left bleeding on his heart. He grumbled and turned around to storm off, until Kotone stopped him dead in his tracks.

"...Wait," she said.

Shinjiro turned around just barely enough to look at her.

"…Don’t leave before I have a chance to speak...please. I like you too, Senpai."

"I don’t want any of your pity.”

Kotone got up and walked around in front of Shinjiro. She stood on the tips of her toes and placed her palm on the back of his head, nudging him down to her height.

Whispering in his ear, she said, "I’ve liked you for a while actually."

“Is that so?”

“Don’t believe me?” she asked, catching Shinjiro off guard with a quick kiss on the cheek.

Shinjiro jumped backwards, red-faced out of pure shock. Kotone looked up and gave him a smile akin to that of an angel pure of heart.

“N-not here! All of S.E.E.S. is watching!” Shinjiro said.

Kotone turned around, and S.E.E.S. was conveniently, not paying attention at this time. Or at least they appeared to not be paying any attention, which the exception of Koromaru, who was gleefully wagging his tail and panting with a smile.

“Believe me now?” Kotone said, ignoring what Shinjiro said.

He took a deep breath to compose himself, disregarding his totally-not-paying-attention friends. He walked towards Kotone and put his arm around her, practically engulfing her with his hold.

“…Let’s get away from these idiots so that I can get a word in without someone snickering,” he said, as Junpei continued repressing his snickering, albeit very badly.

She nodded her head, and Shinjiro guided her up the stairs. Glancing back to make sure they were gone, Junpei let out the most ungodly wheeze that was a result of many strenuous minutes of built-up snickers.

“Man, who gets outed by a dog like that!” Junpei said in between laughs.

���Grrr…arf!”

“Koromaru said to choose you words carefully, as he knows about the secrets you hold within as well,” Aigis so very kindly translated for Junpei.

“Secrets? What secrets? The fact that Chidori totally loooooooves me?”

“Arf arf arf!”

“The fact that you have various pornography magazi-“

Junpei leaped across the table to cover Aigis’s mouth before she could finish relaying Koromaru’s words.

“Hey now, that’s a little personal, don’tcha think?”

“Oh, like exposing somebody’s crush isn’t, Stupei,” Yukari said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, at least that worked out!” Junpei retaliated.

“As if Koromaru wasn’t the one to get the last laugh.”

Koromaru sat down and barked proudly, tail still wagging and free of worry from any repercussions.

[scarletwritesshit]

will ya ever finish the yosuke fic?? it's so cute i got soo invested 😭 one of my favourites genuinely

oh definitely

i invested far too much into it to just let the idea go to waste

it's so heavily planned + researched that i got burnt out on working on it for quite a while

you're actually not the first person to have asked about it and honestly, i think it's long overdue that i pick back up on it

i'm glad you're enjoying it so far, it makes me happy to know that people are looking forward to more 🥹

[scarletwritesshit]

ok my schedule for real this time 💀

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

[scarletwritesshit]

💮Gepard x Reader💮Arrangements

Looking at the fruits of his labor before him, Gepard realized that perhaps, he would’ve been far better off purchasing some flowers from a Belobog florist. Weeks, no, months of hard work had netted him plants that were only barely suitable as filler in a backyard arrangement. He couldn’t understand just how they did it. Gepard researched countless guides and followed the instructions on the seed packets as closely as possible, but they did not blossom nearly as beautifully as he hoped for them to.

In fact, they barely even blossomed at all. The few droopy buds of color could barely pass as flowers, with some buds never even opening up. The blossoms weren’t suitable as a gift for anyone for that matter, especially not a close friend whom he admired so greatly. The fawn lilies didn’t even bloom fully, and the crocuses were underwhelming, blooming far smaller than he expected.

Was it even possible for him to salvage this disaster? Perhaps he could cover his blunders with a variety of exotic grasses to hide his original intentions of constructing a flower bouquet. Unfortunately, the result would be more akin to a bundle of weeds than a bouquet of flowers. Buying flowers from a florist at this point was an option, but it didn’t quite convey the same meaning that a handmade, self-grown bouquet did. Regardless, Gepard wasn’t sure if he would be able to face them himself out of sheer embarrassment due to his lack of talent.

He was a Silvermane Guard captain. Gepard had gotten himself into far worse situations than this before.

Growing flowers was a tad bit different than combat, but regardless, he must adapt regardless of the problem at hand. He refused to throw away the countless weeks of work he spent on such a heartfelt gift.

Perhaps the solution was not to accent it with grasses, but rather, some leaves could salvage these scrapped plants and turn them into a beautiful work of art? Adding in a few twigs with leaves still on them could make for a luscious, tree-like appearance. Top it off with a few thick blades of grass to fill in any gaps remaining.

The end result was a rather full bunch of various plants arranged as precisely as his hands would allow him to. With a spare purple ribbon from Serval’s knick-knack collection, Gepard tied a bow around the bunch as tightly as he possibly could. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, resulting in the bow being rather small, but he viewed this as a rather positive result. A small bow wouldn’t overshadow his…masterpiece, if one could call it that.

Even with Gepard’s attempts at salvaging his mess, the entire arrangement was overall rather messy. Rather than a floral arrangement, it appeared to be more of a wrap of grass with twigs and the occasional large leaf sticking out in an ultimately pathetic attempt to hide the failures of Gepard’s gardening. He shifted the trimmings around as much as possible in an attempt to make his craftsmanship a bit less of an eyesore, but despite his best attempts, it could not compare to the professionally tended flowers that he could find at the florists.

He was far too stubborn to scrap his plan, especially after dedicating so much time to it. After staring at the completed “bouquet” before him, Gepard wondered if they would focus more on his failure to execute a simple task rather than his commitment to his hobby as a whole. He wanted to tweak it further to perhaps patch up a few remaining flaws, but he decided that any further attempts at salvaging his work would only hurt the final product further.

Now, all that was left was for him to face you in person. Arguably, he would much rather defend the entire city of Belobog solo than go through with this. The excitement of a battle made his blood rush in a good way, and more importantly, gave him an all too familiar rush of emotions. A supposedly simple and honest exchange of words was not one of his strengths. Just the thought of doing so made his heart race in an unexplainable way. His thoughts became scrambled against his attempts to retain his composure, and he felt himself becoming warm enough to be used as one of the city’s heaters.

All he had to do was hand you the bouquet of flowers and say what was on his mind…if he could even put what was on his mind into coherent words able to be spoken. With a strung together bundle of leaves and grass, he couldn’t help but feel as if the chance of embarrassing himself was far more likely than even a decent outcome. He kept thinking back to all of the struggles he had endured attempting to grow these plants only for such a lackluster outcome, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself. Gepard managed to calm himself and straighten out his thoughts, but your expected arrival immediately threw him off track. All of thinking and bracing for his confession? Absolutely for nothing, as he lost track of where to even begin with his words.

“Gepard? You said you wanted to talk to me about something,” you said.

“Ah, y-yes I do. There is an important matter that I must bring up with you,” he said.

Gepard seemed to have forgotten that a formal tongue is not necessarily appropriate in every situation. He held the hodgepodge arrangement behind his back.

“What is it, Geppie?” you asked. “You seem weirdly stressed.”

He cleared his throat, attempting to calm himself before speaking further. “It’s nothing detrimental, but it has been lingering on my mind for quite some time now.”

“And what would that be?”

Gepard stood awkwardly quiet for a moment as he debated his next course of action. He could give a heartfelt speech about everything he felt towards you, but to him, it felt as if it would drag on for too long, boring you for eternity. On the contrary, blurting out his feelings in a short and sweet manner seemed to be the more painfully rushed approach.

Gepard said absolutely nothing as he looked away and handed you the bouquet of flowers, or arrangement, to be more specific. He could neither bare to look at his mess nor the disgusted reaction he expected from you. Improper, it was, but Gepard felt as if his own emotions backed him into a corner.

There was no denying that his handcrafted arrangement was rather rough. What did survive his typical disastrous attempts at gardening were rather dull, and the leaves and grasses he accented the piece with could be found just about anywhere in a planter on the side of the street. Regardless, whether Gepard produced flowers fit for the royalty or the compost bin did not matter to you. He really went through time and energy to grow and arrange plants just for you, even when he could’ve given up and bought a premade arrangement from the florist.

All this time that he had to prepare and Gepard was still left without any words. He turned his head even further away in an attempt to hide his blush, but his entire face was turning red at this point. He quickly snuck a glance to see how you were reacting to the flowers, then immediately looked away, hoping you didn’t see him sneak a peek.

You took the thick arrangement out of his cold, metal-clad hand and gently brushed your fingers through the different leaves, observing every single leaf and blossom that had survived his wrath. The quality of the disheveled bundle was of none of your concern, as you could tell that Gepard clearly put his heart and soul into it. Gepard sighed as you observed it, as if he was awaiting cruel words of mockery.

“You made this, just for me?” you asked.

“Indeed, I grew these plants by myself, though I worry that the end result is not up to your standards.”

“Standards? Who do you take me for?”

With your free hand, you nudged Gepard’s face gently to face him towards you. A brief flash of fear filled his eyes, as he was still convinced that you were absolutely disgusted with his gift. However, that could be further from the truth, and rather than waste your words on a man clearly inexperienced with them, you instead showed him your appreciation for his kind gesture.

Catching him off guard, you stood on the tip of your toes to steal a quick kiss on his cheek, causing him to bury his face into his metal gauntlets. That was one way to charm a Silvermane Guard, though perhaps you had a hold on his heart with far less than that. The flowers he spent ages growing for you was proof of this, and was more than enough to show you the amount of sincerity and dedication he harbored for you.

[scarletwritesshit]

🔫Kotone Shiomi x Jin Shirato🔫Death Won't Answer Every Call

Kotone pulled out a piece of scrap paper that she had been keeping tucked away in her pocket. She sat down at the shared computer, double checking that everyone else was preoccupied. When she was sure that the coast was clear, she typed the freakishly cryptic URL into the search bar. This was the key to an underground revenge killing form, whose existence is merely a rumor by word of mouth, yet confirmed by this very string of characters Kotone had acquired to access it for real.

Her fingers trembled as she typed out the request, but logically, this would be a far less painful death for her teammates to bear than if she were to take her own life. An Evoker wasn’t going to do her much good anyways. She needed someone with a real gun to take her out. Conveniently, Kotone knew just the person to indirectly reach out to.

All she had to do was make her comment sound less like a suicide note and more like an assassination request.

Kotone left vague tips about her identity in the post. She wondered if she left too much, as Fuuka’s own research had proven that they had successfully hunted down less with more. It shouldn’t matter anyways. They were bound to jump at the opportunity to strike her down, as Kotone was doing both Strega and S.E.E.S. a favor.

The bait was set, and all Kotone had to do was wait for the Dark Hour. One…minor inconvenience was that she was naturally aware of the Dark Hour, due to being a Persona user herself. The entire setup sounded more like a trap rather than a murder request but a job was a job to those three, and Kotone was merely making their assignment a bit more convenient.

She wandered around the back alleyway, as if she were a field mouse oblivious to the starving falcons that flew over her head. With no form of self-defense and not a care in the world, Kotone was silently praying for her death to be swift and painless.

From behind her, she could hear the footsteps of a familiar trio quickly catching up to her. For a split second, she thought about throwing her hands into the air and screaming with glee, welcoming death with open arms. The slightest hint of logicality hit her in this moment, as wouldn’t that act more as a warning to her hunters than as an invitation to carry out their mission? All Kotone wanted was for these bastards to do their job and take her out. Preferably with a gunshot to the head.

As she was nonchalantly walking, she was stopped in her tracks by a hand grabbing onto her shoulder. Definitely wasn’t the gunshot she was hoping for, so she turned her head to investigate the holdup. Kotone met Jin’s gaze, who was staring at her, oddly perplexed. Rather odd for none of them to have pulled the trigger on her quite yet. Weren’t they on two opposing sides, at each other’s throats for that matter?

"Someone’s got a bone to pick with you, girl," Jin said, still staring her down.

"That comes to me as no surprise," Kotone said, under the same usual cover of joy.

"You...do know what this means for you, right? Shouldn’t ya be pulling out your Evoker to try and knock us down?"

Kotone simply shrugged in response.

Clenching his jaw out of annoyance, Jin turned to Takaya and shouted, "Hey boss! Ya think we should be shootin’ down the S.E.E.S. girl just like that?”

"Remember, Jin. A target’s a target, no matter who it is,” Takaya no-so-gently reminded Jin.

“Even if killin’ her could make things worse for us in the long run?”

“Jin. Must I repeat myself?”

"Geez, boss. You didn’t think for a second that this could be a trap? This all could be so that she could pull that trigger and smash us with Orpheus!"

"I don’t even have my Evoker with me," Kotone chimed in.

"Like I’d believe that," he said, pushing her forward and taking a few steps back to Takaya’s side.

"…She’s not lying," Chidori said.

Chidori squinted her eyes at Kotone, as if she herself was not confident with the conclusion that she had drawn. But she was right. Kotone was indeed, completely unarmed.

"Eh? For what reason would you be walking around without that thing during the Dark Hour? I thought that the S.E.E.S. leader was far brighter than that!" Jin asked, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Kotone once again didn’t want to give him an answer.

"Are you done yet?" Takaya barked. “We could’ve been out of here, one bullet shot and done, if it weren’t for your nonsensical stalling!”

"Who knows what kind of jackassery she’s gonna try and pull on us? Ever stop to think for a second that she could be using herself as bait to allow the others to ambush us?”

"Jin, if there were other Persona users present, I would’ve alerted you a long time ago," Chidori said.

"See? You’re just wasting our time," Takaya said, growing impatient.

"I don’t know, man. Does none of this strike you as odd?"

"If you’re insist on being this stubborn, then you can do the work yourself," Takaya said, tossing the gun onto the ground between them and Kotone.

She looked down at the gun, yet did not seize the opportunity to confiscate Takaya’s primary murder weapon. She merely watched as he turned his back and walked away without another word, gesturing for Chidori to follow close behind.

"The hell you think you’re going?" Jin shouted, to no avail.

The only response he got in return was a pitiful glance from Chidori. She turned back and looked at him, almost as a silent apology for being unable to assist him further. Jin turned to face Kotone, who was still standing around waiting for him to make his move. The gun was a short distance within reach, yet he did not seize the opportunity to grab it. Kotone could’ve just as easily picked it up and shot him first, but the two of them merely exchanged glances between each other and the gun laying unclaimed on the ground. After a few moments of dead silence, she kicked the gun over to Jin, landing it on his foot.

"Don’t you have a job to do?" Kotone asked, cocking her head.

"No no, YOU’RE going to tell me what dirty little schemes are up your sleeves before I even think about pulling this trigger!" he said.

"Schemes? What schemes? Someone contacted you to kill me and I’m simply making your job a bit easier. That’s all."

"Right. As if this isn’t some sort of set-up."

"What can I do? I’m unarmed and there’s no S.E.E.S. members anywhere near us.”

"Which is precisely why I’m worried, dammit! What sinister plot do you have brewing?"

"The sinister plot is that I want you to kill me."

"You…WANT me to kill you?” Jin asked, even more confused.

Kotone nodded her head.

"So, that must mean, you’re the one that put in that tip? To target yourself?"

Kotone once again nodded her head.

"I dunno ‘bout the boss's policies on assisted suicide, but who am I to give a shit? I don’t care if a job’s a job, an answer from you is far more important right now!”

"Answers? What more do you want from me? I want to die."

"You want to die? When you have everything?"

"What do you mean, everything? I don’t even have a family."

"Yeah, well, you ain’t special. You at least have S.E.E.S. to always back you up, as their leader, nonetheless. My patience is running thin, so tell me what’s behind this asinine mindset of yours before I pull the trigger and blow your brains out!"

"Pull what trigger? You aren’t even holding a gun."

Jin looked down to see the barrel of Takaya’s gun still resting on his shoe. He kicked his foot upwards, flipping the gun onto its other side, off of his shoe.

"That ain’t important. An explanation takes priority here.”

His attitude did not phase Kotone one bit, as she stood her ground with her hands behind her back and a smile on her face waiting for him to finally make his move. Jin was becoming increasingly annoyed and quickly lost track of his original goal of fulfilling the apparent suicide request. Without Takaya to whisper his every command into his ear, his priorities shifted elsewhere, desperate for answers rather than a flat-out assassination of the S.E.E.S. leader.

"It’s simple,” she said. “I shouldn’t be alive."

"The hell does that mean?"

"I should’ve been dragged straight to hell with them. Burned alive, just as they were before my eyes. That’s why I need you to do it for me. Finish what fate started."

"If an easy way out is what you wanted so badly, then why didn’t you say so?" Jin said, kicking the gun up into his hand.

He held Takaya's pistol out, safety off, finger on the trigger, aimed at Kotone’s forehead.

"Do it," Kotone said. "I have nothing to live for."

"Like hell you don’t!" Jin spat, his hand trembling.

“I live for the sole purpose of dying, Jin.”

"Look who’s yappin’ about death, the one who wasn’t chosen as God’s little plaything for his sick little game of torture!"

"The wrath of fate missed me the first time and you’re here to lend it a hand!"

"I ain’t here to give it shit!"

"Then why do you claim to be at its mercy?"

“Because I have a final duty to see through ‘till the end!”

"You lie, for you’re too much of a coward to fulfill even your own self-proclaimed purpose!"

Kotone had had enough of his nonsense, and walked towards Jin as he still held the gun shakily in his hand, fingers far too stiff to pull the trigger. She reached out, and in the blink of an eye, firmly grabbed onto the gun in an attempt to pry it out of his hand. Though Kotone's strength caught him off guard, he tightly held it with his other hand, maintaining a firm grasp. He flicked the safety on in the event she managed to pry her fingers under his and pull the trigger. Jin had no interest in being shot by Takaya’s pistol, or even worse, accidentally firing it at Kotone.

Suddenly, Kotone’s grip in the tangle of fingers and steel loosened. Jin could’ve easily shaken her aside, but he lowered his arms, allowing Kotone to relax further herself. She wasn’t pulling for the gun anymore, or even attempting to shake herself free of Jin. Her hands were gripping harder onto Jin’s more than the gun itself.

"Your hands..." Kotone noted, "they’re cold."

"Yeah, so?"

"You feel…dead, but you’re still standing before me."

"’Bout time you realized why I can’t stand bloody hypocrites like you."

Can’t stand, apparently meaning he finds it impossible to let go of her.

With the pistol still intertwined within their fingers, Jin laxed his grasp on the gun, only for Kotone to do the same in return. It fell onto the ground in between them, leaving only each other’s hands for them to hold onto. Neither of them could quite explain why, but they refused to release the hold they had on each other.

"Well. There’s your gun," Jin said, kicking it towards her lightly.

"...I know," Kotone said, giving it a slight glance to the side.

The two stood still, and Jin instinctively grabbed onto Kotone’s hands even harder, drawn to this curious warmth of hers. She looked at him with great curiosity, as the gun was no longer in their grasp. Jin averted his gaze, unwilling, or perhaps unable to, explain his actions.

"So uh...your hands always this…warm?" he asked, attempting to divert the topic.

"I should be asking if you’re always this cold," Kotone said.

"Regrettably," he said quietly with a sigh.

"…Like you’re on the verge of death."

"Which is what I’ve been saying, bastard. You’re still kickin’. I ain’t got much time left regardless of what I choose."

"Still kicking while at death’s door? That sounds like someone else I know."

"Bloody hypocrite, you are. We both are. And I hate it."

Jin griped Kotone’s hands even harder, out of frustration. This feeling, it was all too good to him. Not in regards to having the young lady within his grasp, but how incredibly warm she was...it was practically intoxicating. He hated feeling this way towards someone he was supposedly opposed to, but neither Takaya nor Chidori could offer him a warmth that was almost forgiving.

Kotone attempted to wiggle her fingers loose, but she saw the almost desperate glimmer in Jin’s eyes as she attempted to do so. He looked rather ashamed to have such a longing grip on his enemy, but Kotone didn’t say a single word about it. Rather, she adjusted her grip to make it more comfortable for Jin to hold her hands.

"Truthfully, we’re more alike than either of us would’ve though," she said to herself.

Still intoxicated by the glimmer of warmth he was feeling, Jin lifted up her hands and rested them against his forehead.

"More alike," he said, "Guess S.E.E.S. and Strega aren’t as black ‘n white as things have been made out to be."

The pistol still rested at Jin's foot. He kicked it aside, the thoughts of their deaths now an issue to be left in the moments prior. However, both of them knew that Jin was left with a mission to carry out, and grave consequences would befall him should he fail to complete his task.

He couldn’t stay like this forever. Jin lowered his hands and slipped them free of Kotone’s. Looking at the pistol that still lay fully loaded on the ground, he knew what he must do.

Jin bent down and grabbed it, flicking the safety off. Even with their brief heartfelt moment, Kotone knew that Takaya wanted her shot dead, regardless of who sent in the request. Jin was merely stalling the inevitable, and she was left in no position to go back on her decision.

Kotone closed her eyes.

After what felt like far too long, Jin finally pulled the trigger, sending a gunshot in her direction.

The sound faded into the distance for a few seconds, and Kotone listened as it echoed throughout the Dark Hour. Curious as to how she was still standing, she opened her eyes to see Jin pointing to the side of her.

"…There. That way he can’t say I didn’t shoot at you."

"You’re not going to kill me after all?"

"Cant. Not after...whatever that was," he said, flicking the safety back on and quickly averting his gaze.

"I guess this means I have to stay alive to see you again, huh?"

"Yeah, what would S.E.E.S. be without their pain in the ass-wait, see me?"

"Nothing. I’ll see you when you get in our way again."

Kotone and Jin stood around for a few moments, neither of them beginning on their way back. Something weighed heavily on both of their minds, yet neither of them could put it into words, much less understand it.

"Hey, uh, one last thing before you fuck off," Jin said.

"Hm?"

"Is your body...really that warm?"

"Do you want to find out?" she said with a cheerful smile.

Jin looked away. He knew what he wanted, but wasn’t sure if he should accept, or if it even was logical for him to do so.

"...Takaya is going to kill me one way or another."

"Like he has to know," Kotone said, running up to him. Before Jin could make his escape, Kotone threw her arms around him, shoving her face into his back and hugging him tightly. He figured that perhaps just this once, he would allow her to capture him in her warmth and bring perhaps the first true feeling of peace he had ever felt in his life.

The time left in the Dark Hour was growing thin, and Kotone released him from her grasp before waving goodbye as she ran off. Jin stood there, watching her take off in the direction of Iwatodai Dorm. Still, he couldn’t quite process what had just happened, and he knew Takaya would leave him to the gutters if he ever found out about what transpired.

For a brief moment, Jin felt a glimmer of hope that he and Kotone would meet again as friends, rather than enemies sworn to the grave.

[scarletwritesshit]

oh boy a lot happened over the weekend

and theres still more yet to come

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

[scarletwritesshit]

devil tarot card by Fen! their art is super pretty and they work super fast, so go show em' some love!

[scarletwritesshit]

🦚 Aventurine 🦚 Break the Chain, Run Towards the Sunlight

Kakavasha looked into the mirror tilting his head so that he could get a better view of the burn scar on his neck. SLAVE, against his will, had become an integral part of his identity, for even after freeing himself from his physical shackles, he was always at the mercy of the chains of fate. He had neglected to tend to the presence of this marking, and so Kakavasha had grown used to being the bearer of its curse.

Born at the mercy of Sigonia-IV. Living under the shackles of the IPC. Dying in fate’s chokehold.

But a premature death was no longer for him.

He wanted to live…he wanted his life to outshine the gemstone he once donned as an alias, and show that he wasn’t going to let the chains of despair hold him down any longer.

The first step in doing so was cutting ties with his past misfortune. He wanted to strip himself of the branding, so that at first glance, he wouldn’t be immediately perceived as some object that had managed to run astray. Kakavasha initially considered simply hiding the brand, but running away was not his idea of moving on.

Forcefully removing it would not only be painful, but it would leave a larger, bloody mess in its place. He ran his fingers over the rough skin, contemplating his course of action. It was there, and wasn’t going to go away so easily. Somehow, he wanted to turn a tragic reminder into a symbol of rebound and rebirth, but what? How could one possibly twist a brand of slavery into an emblem of hope?

Kakavasha wished he could rip it off and his neck heal without a trace, leaving behind only the mental scarring that cannot be seen. He gripped at his skin, imagining himself tearing away from the last chains that bound him to the IPC. All of his blood pouring from his neck, drenching his clothing and pooling on the floor, would be but a small price to pay for true freedom.

Spilling blood to gain the upper hand was ingrained in his nature. For Kakavasha, it was a way of survival. The sting from his fingers pinching his neck snapped him back to reality. He wanted to move away from this life, not dwell in the same darkness that clasped his neck.

If only I could be reborn anew, he thought as he gently soothed the now sore area on his neck. Reborn freer and more graceful than ever, like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

That’s when an idea hit him.

Kakavasha pulled back the layers of his top to expose the burn scar to the artist.

"A phoenix here, if you please," he said, pointing to the brand. "Covering it up is my top priority, and I trust in you to work your magic."

The tattoo artist pushed aside the fur and collar of Kakavasha's outfit in order to get a better look for himself. He studied the burn for a moment, squinting his eyes.

"Another IPC survivor. You don’t see them every day," he said in a gruff, yet casual voice.

"Another?" Kakavasha asked, surprised.

"When you’ve been doing this as long as I have, you’ll see a thing or two," he said, one of his long Foxian ears flickering. "So, you lookin’ for just a coverup?"

Kakavasha nodded his head.

The gruff Foxian man thought for a moment, once more studying the burn. "Hmm…I got just the thing for you, but you’re gonna have to take off your shirt for this one."

Curious, Kakavasha took off the layers of his shirt and dropped them to the side, revealing his pale, worn skin. The artist studied him further, observing every imperfection that up to the imprint on his neck. He scratched his beard in thought, before being struck with inspiration and snapping his finger.

"This is pretty doable," he said, looking up and down Kakavasha’s left side.

"And how much you askin’ me for it?"

The man thought for a moment, then shook his head. "It’s on me, son."

"Credits aren’t an issue to me. I have more than plenty to spare."

"You earned those with far more blood than they’re worth. Consider my work a gift from one survivor to another."

Kakavasha turned around and glanced at the Foxian man’s neck. Beneath his short, disheveled brown hair, he could make out an ornate skull tattoo, with its teeth located approximately where an IPC brand of slavery would have been singed. He decided to not press further questions, for additional words were not needed for him to understand that him and Kakavasha’s hearts were one in the same.

It took quite a few hours, and Kakavasha would’ve found it hard to stay still, if he were not already exhausted. He was overjoyed that at long last, he was truly breaking free of the shackles that once held him down. Though he still felt as if he deserved every ounce of torment, and perhaps much more, he was relieved to have such immense weight lifted from his shoulders.

After he was done, the artist turned the chair around to face a large mirror, and nudged at Kalavasha to look at it. Immediately, his eyes began to fill with tears.

No longer could he tell that the word SLAVE was seared into his skin. The burn was practically invisible underneath the crown plumage of a glorious phoenix. Not only was the coverup a success, his entire left side was adorned by the body of the majestic bird, its tail feathers in the shape of a peacock and its wings spreading out to hide even more painful reminders along his body.

After all he had managed to tough out, the sight of a beautiful bird rising over the scars of his past makes him cry?

Indeed it did, and Kakavasha let the tears run down his face and allowed himself to smile.

The Foxian man put his large, calloused hand on his shoulder. Kakavasha looked up to see him, too, smiling with the same glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Safe to say you love it, son?" he said.

At a loss for words, he nodded his head.

"I’m glad. A pretty boy like you deserves himself a pretty bird."

Despite the man declining payment numerous times, Kakavasha still felt guilty letting such fine artistry go unpaid. As a “tip,” he left behind a few thousand credits, a hefty amount that the Foxian tattoo artist could’ve easily pocketed under the table. Instead, since there was no use attempting to return the credits to Kakavasha, he picked them up and smiled at them fondly.

"These will do better for someone less fortunate. Not all of em’ end up as lucky as he did," he thought as he secured them in an inconspicuous location.

[scarletwritesshit]

🍲Kotone Shiomi x Shinjiro Aragaki🍲Soup for All, in the Name of One

It felt like it was another one of those days.

Shinjiro stared down at the pot of soup as he absentmindedly stirred it, his lingering thoughts dissolving and marinating along with the soup base and vegetables. Ever since he had been freed from rehab, Shinjiro had been cooking practically every hour of his life for the past few months. This kitchen was more than just his way of giving back to the people; it was his way of atoning for his sins and apologizing for the rampant destruction he left in his wake.

His original plan was to let death claim him one way or another. However, a dear friend of his completely changed his outlook on life as a whole, driving him to press onward.

He wanted to keep living, for she couldn’t.

The tray of chopped up vegetables was practically calling to Shinjiro, as he had yet to add them in. Ideally, he should’ve added them in a few minutes ago, but he lost track of the time while preoccupied with his own troubles. Now, the soup was going to be far from perfect. Those who visited Shinjiro’s kitchen could care less, as even a meal imperfect meal by Shinjiro’s standards was enough to bring life into their frail bodies. However, he would still be left the lingering regret that the food was not as perfect as it could’ve been.

If Kotone were still around, she would turn this into a prime opportunity for teasing Shinjiro. Something about him “being a sweet man despite his high emotional walls,” to name one example. Or how “cute” it was to see just how easily his heart fluttered and attention wandered at her presence.

It would’ve been something like that. But that was many, many years ago. Despite them only knowing each other for a few months, and dating for even less, Kotone left such an impression on Shinjiro that the memory of her still remained very close to his heart.

It was this very treasure of a memory that allowed him to cheat death, not once, but twice. She was kind enough to go out of her way to retrieve a lost pocketwatch of Shinjiro’s, and it was this very trinket that turned a lethal gunshot into a coma that still couldn’t take down Shinjiro. Gunshot wound aside, Shinjiro fought through his decaying mental state and the darkness of Persona suppressants attempting to take hold of his body, reaching out for Kotone, his guiding light at the end of the tunnel.

She did not hesitate to reach back. In fact, her arms were always open and welcoming, no matter how low Shinjiro managed to crash, as she would lift him back up time and again all to see a faint trace of a smile on his face.

Once again, that would have been many years ago. Nevertheless, Shinjiro still found himself distracted by what he once had, and what he desired most to reclaim in his life. Every time that he thought he had finally moved on from Kotone, his feelings for her would return and crash into him like a semi-truck. It didn’t matter if he was lazily stirring soup, flipping pancakes on a griddle, or constructing sandwiches by hand, his ever-present love for Kotone would cause his mind to wander, hindering his performance. He hardly even mentioned his grief to the former S.E.E.S. members. Not like he would have much of a chance to, as contact between the group was rather limited due to everyone focusing on their own individual path in life.

The only one who knew of his heartache was Koromaru, who had taken up residence in the shelter as a sort of therapy dog for those seeking a roof over their head and a warm meal. He had become quite white-muzzled with the passing years, but one would hardly assume that he was at least ten years old with the amount of energy he possessed.

Much to Shinjiro’s surprise, Koromaru remained a gentle soul. Despite having to watch both his first master and Kotone die before him, as well as coming face to face with Death himself, it seemed as if nothing could cause the shine in his eyes to fade away. Shinjiro even argued that Koromaru was aging far better than he was. That little Shiba Inu was as happy as ever, while Shinjiro struggled with the scruff on his chin and the gaping hole in his heart.

The soup was finished, or at least, Shinjiro hoped it was. With how he found his mind wandering as he was preparing it, he hoped that it would be adequate. He stirred the soup around one final time before taste testing it for himself. He immediately tasted every minor flaw, though they were imperfections that only a seasoned chef like himself could discern. With a little grumble under his breath, Shinjiro was relieved that it was at least flavorful, and that his guests would be grateful nonetheless.

He can still hear her voice.

Shinji, it tastes amazing! Don’t talk down on yourself like that!

…She would say, then tackle him with a hug from behind.

Shinjiro shook his head, still trying to break free from these thoughts.

That was years ago. Let her go, dammit.

Before he opened the kitchen. Before he took his first steps into rehab to rid his body of the suppressants. Before he realized that he wanted to live, one day at a time.

…Perhaps, during his recovery process, he neglected to attend to proper healing of his grief-stricken heart. Though they did not know each other for a relatively long period of time, it cannot possibly be that easy to get over someone who had completely turned his life around for the better. What he would’ve done to be able to hear her sweet words of encouragement just one last time. Even when he would deny each and every compliment, Kotone insisted that Shinjiro was worth every moment and more of her time.

It wasn’t simply the praise for his cooking and combat skills that he remembered. It was the immense amount of faith that she kept in him even until the very end. Even when he was at his lowest point, ready to surrender his life as payment for his mistakes, she insisted on guiding him onto a path to a better future.

Did Kotone always know that she was destined to die? Shinjiro couldn’t help but wonder. Kotone always did have a lingering tinge of sadness underneath that bubbly personality, but the desire to die and the inevitability of fate are two completely different things. Perhaps that was a factor as to why she pushed for his survival, because she was sacrificing herself for a better future for all her friends and many more. She didn’t want her life to be a waste.

No. There had to be far more than that. Every bone crushing hug felt genuine, and only Kotone of all people could smile at the sight of his dreary scowl.

That bone crushing hug…Shinjiro would kill for one right about now.

Longingly staring at the pot of soup wasn’t going to do anything. The entire soup, from the base to the vegetables, was crafted in her memory, just as every other meal prepared in this kitchen has been. If he stood here for much longer, he would end up hearing Kotone complain that the food would get cold, and that it was more important to worry about them than her.

His mental vision of Kotone did have a good point. She had moved on, and Shinjiro felt as if it was his job to nurture what she had protected. Plus, Koromaru was likely outside of the kitchen growing impatient. He wanted his share of the food too.

See? Koro-chan thinks your cooking is amazing. Isn’t that what truly matters to you?

W-What about everyone else?

You act like the others don’t wolf down your food. Akihiko was out there begging for seconds.

At least this time, he should spare her a smile. That’s what Kotone would want from him now more than anything. If she was really watching over her friends from above, it would break her heart to see Shinjiro fall apart after years of redemption and mending.

Shinjiro studied his reflection in the still pot of soup. It was true that he had been feeling a bit down as of late, and many would argue that a frown did not suit him one bit. Despite his scruffy and rough appearance, he possessed a caring heart. If Kotone didn’t believe in that, he would not be here running this very kitchen today.

He forced a little smile, then tapped the ladle on the rim of the pot signaling to his guests that food was ready to be served.

[scarletwritesshit]

im being kidnapped at the end of this week so i wont be around as much

rest assured i got plans in store for when i get back

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social