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fairy-writes · 4 months

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THE STORY OF US

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu x Reader

Word Count: 4k (PLS READ, I’M BEGGING YOU)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Pretty Heavy AU (idk what to call it tho), Female!Reader, Time Traveler!Reader, Time Traveler!Dazai, Reader is shorter than Dazai

Taglist: @underthetree845 | @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon

Notes: I don’t know what I’m doing

VERY HEAVILY RIVER SONG INSPIRED (find my quotes lol)

I might write part two from the Reader’s POV (don’t get your hopes up tho, I’m notoriously bad with writing part two to things, but if I get requests I’m more likely to do it!)

I just now realized that the title is also a Taylor Swift song, but I don’t wanna change it

Also, I’m just saying this now, this is not every scene I had in mind. A lot of scenes got cut for my sanity.

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Osamu first discovered he could time jump when he was eleven.

It had been an accident, really. Well, maybe not a complete accident. Osamu wanted to escape everything—his parents' arguing, their fights. But, of course, he had nowhere to go. As an eleven-year-old boy, there wasn’t anywhere that would hire him. He had no other family that wasn’t across the other side of the world.

He was completely and utterly alone.

The shouting was reaching its peak. Osamu shoved his pillow further over his head as if trying to suffocate himself as his mother screamed something at his father. Something about his lies.

Ha. If only she knew how much Osamu lied.

Lied about his day at school. (Anything to get her off his back.)

Lied about having friends. (Anything to make them not suspicious.)

Lied about everything.

The screaming grated on his ears through the pillow, and he ground his teeth until his mouth hurt.

Couldn’t they just shut up?

Couldn’t they just go away?

Suddenly, something was different. Osamu felt a tugging in his stomach. It was as if someone wrapped a string around his middle and yanked. Almost like he was being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste.

And then he could hear… water? The sounds of a river that should not be audible even through the open window. Did they even live near a river?

Osamu peeked out from the pillow over his head and was blinded by sunlight. He sat up and realized his pajamas were covered in scalding hot sand. Golden sand stretched for miles and miles, a long twisting river just visible in the distance. On the horizon, he saw pyramids being erected high into the sky.

What the hell?

And the rest was quite literally history.

December 31st, 1925

New York City

The air was cold. Snow fell in flakes as Osamu watched the snow fall outside the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks as he paid no mind to anyone around him. He had aged since his first trip through time. Though he could never remember how old he was. He looked to be in his early twenties, but everyone looked so different in different time periods, so he could’ve been thirty, and that would’ve made sense.

“Mind if I sit?” Comes a sweet voice. He looks to his left and sees you.

You’re dressed to the nines in a silver slip flapper dress with black beads decorating the length of the gown. Your hair was cut in a neat bob, a feather headband decorating the up-do. The kohl around your eyes only accentuates the pretty color.

Osamu plasters a grin across his features, and you shift. He gestures grandly to the stool beside him,

“I could do with a gorgeous woman’s company.” He quips, and you laugh good-naturedly before sliding onto the stool beside him. He can feel your warmth through the woolen fabric of his suit coat, and he takes a sip of liquid courage, suddenly feeling somewhat hesitant to talk to you.

There was something about you. Like you knew all Osamu’s secrets already.

You lean your cheek on the palm of your hand, smiling with ruby-red lips and brilliant teeth that were ahead of their time.

That should’ve been his first clue.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Where are we at now?” You muse, and he frowns as he sips at his whiskey. This was one of the only bars that still sold alcohol through the prohibition.

“Sorry, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” He says, and you cock your head, eyebrow raised, as you pick at the seams of your silken gloves. You abruptly stop picking and reach into your clutch purse that rested in your lap, pulling out a worn notebook he didn’t recognize. It was well-loved, with pictures stuffed in between the pages.

“So we haven’t done France yet?”

“France?” You lean back giddily and hold your notebook to your chest.

“What a night that was! Dancing in front of the Eiffel Tower? That ring a bell?” Osamu shakes his head.

He had yet to go to France. In all his time jumping, he hadn’t seen the point in going to France, much less the City of Love.

Now it was your turn to frown, flipping through your little notebook, and he spies neat handwriting in various languages. English. Japanese. German. Latin. And were those Egyptian hieroglyphs? All throughout the pages, he spies his picture scattered across the ink.

Just who were you?

And why do you have all those pictures and drawings of him?

“What about picnicking at Versailles?”

Another shake. Another page turned.

“The Titanic? What a messy time that was!”

“What is that?” He eventually asks, and you quickly flip it shut before he can actually read anything.

“Spoilers.” You say quickly, and when he arches an eyebrow, you sigh, call the bartender over, and order a glass of champagne. The two of you wait in silence until you get your drink. Eventually, you speak after you’ve downed half of your champagne flute. “It’s all of our adventures. Time travel gets complicated, doesn’t it?”

As soon as he connects the dots, Osamu is floored.

Another time traveler? He thought he was the only one!

It’s clear you pick up on what he is thinking because your face falls. You look heartbroken. As if he just ripped your heart out of your chest and smashed it into a million pieces. As if you were a lonesome star falling from the sky and drowning in the sea.

“You truly don’t have any idea who I am, do you?” Osamu shrugs,

“Who are you?”

Osamu didn’t know it was possible, but you looked even more upset. Tears welled up in your waterline and smudged your kohl as it dripped down your cheeks. You swallow thickly and sniffle, pulling a handkerchief from your clutch to dab at your watery eyes and ruined makeup.

For whatever reason, Osamu feels his heart ache.

“I suppose this was bound to happen sometime.” You say eventually, and he looks over at you from where he had just downed the last of his whiskey. You’re leaning both of your arms on the counter, running a finger around the rim of your champagne glass.

“What do you mean?” He asks, and you huff, look at him out of the corner of your eye, and your finger stops

“We always meet out of order. Hence, the diary. But… I just never expected it to hurt this much.” You sniffle again, and Osamu realizes he wants to make it better. He realizes he doesn’t like to see you cry.

But he doesn’t even know you!

Why should he care if you cried or not?

“If it’s any consolation… I’m sorry…” He says quietly, and you bark out a laugh,

“There’s nothing to be sorry for! I suppose this is just a chance for me to get to know the younger you.” You sniffle, but that bright smile that makes his heart race lights up your face once again. You seem to think something over before standing and offering Osamu a hand.

“Care to walk with me?” You tease him with a flirty wink, and he finds himself unable to say no.

So, as the clock chimes closer and closer to midnight, the two of you leave the bar, with you each paying for your respective drinks. Osamu offered to buy yours as an added apology, but you just patted his shoulder with a knowing smile and said, “I know you’re awful with money.”

Which… You weren’t wrong.

Just how much did you know about him?

How much had he told you in the future?

You walk next to him, bundled up in a trench coat not unlike his own and with your hands stuffed in your pockets. Osamu pulls his own (matching) trench coat over his suit coat and slacks and follows you out into the sprinkling snow. You both walk side by side in a surprisingly comfortable silence. At least until you hear people counting down in the streets.

10…

You blink and turn to look at him.

“What day is it again?” You ask, and he looks up at the snow.

“December 31st, 1925.” He replies, and you gape in surprise.

9…

“Y’know, I’ve never celebrated New Year's with time travel and all. Never even had a New Year's kiss.” You muse, watching couples get together on the streets.

8…

“Would you like one?” Osamu blurts, and you nearly trip in surprise. Osamu almost follows suit when you stop abruptly to look at him with wide eyes.

7…

“But you don’t even know me.” You say hesitantly, but you turn to face him nonetheless. He finds himself smiling, a soft, genuine sort of smile.

When was the last time he smiled like this?

6…

“I’m giving my future self the benefit of the doubt and trusting his judgment.” He teases, and you relax, hanging your head with a soft giggle. But you don’t pull away when he slowly pulls you in close to him.

5…

Your coat flaps open, and he sees his father’s initials stitched on the side and realizes you don’t just have matching coats—you have the exact same coat.

When did he give that to you? He swore he’d never give it up to remind himself to never return home!

4…

Your soft arms around his neck catch his attention, and you’re suddenly much closer, standing on your tiptoes in your kitten heels.

3…

His arms pull you close by your hips, and he leans down.

2…

Your noses brush.

1…

The kiss is like the fireworks going off above him. His eyes flutter close, and he pulls you impossibly closer. Your lips are soft with the lipstick, and he doesn’t care that it’s likely stained on his mouth.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The kiss deepens, and you soak up his affection greedily. Like you had been waiting for this forever. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close oh so tenderly.

Like a puzzle piece being fit into place, his heart sang like a choir in a church.

Were you what he was missing all this time?

Could he finally have this?

Could he—

BANG! BANG! BANG!!

You jolt and fall to the ground as a car screeches around a corner and out of sight.

What?

What happened?

Osamu looks down and feels his heart stop.

You’re crumpled against the cement, blood seeping out of bullet holes in your abdomen. Your dress is ruined. But that doesn’t matter.

Osamu falls to his knees, not caring about the cold, wet concrete soaking his slacks. He pulls your upper half into his lap and applies pressure. You cry out and push his hands away.

“I need to put pressure on your injury. Hold still for me, love.” He whispers to you and turns to where people are still celebrating. “AMBULANCE! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!” He cries, but they’re so wrapped up in their excitement that they don’t hear him.

Your hand touches his face, and he looks down to see you giving him a bloody smile. Crimson leaks from your mouth, and he can tell that you don’t have long.

“Hold on—Hold on, I’ll get a doctor—I’ll—” He stammers in an attempt to calm you (himself) down, and you just spit up blood in a choked laugh.

“We both know I’m not going to survive this.” You wheeze, and he can see the color draining from your face as you lose blood and warmth.

“Then I’ll jump back in time! Time can be rewritten!” You cut him off abruptly with more strength than he thought you had.

“Not those times. Not one line. Don’t you dare.” You say, hand falling to grip his hand as tightly as you could muster.

“But you’re dying.” He says, unable to explain why his heart is breaking to pieces inside his chest. You cough once more and smile that brilliant smile that he finds that he loves so much.

“It’s not over for you. You’ll see me again. You’ve got all of that to come.” You slur your words at this point, and he grits his teeth. Your hand goes weak in his, and he holds it even tighter.

“You and me. All those adventures all over time. You watch us run!” You whisper, and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead just as you close your eyes.

117 AD

Rome, Italy

The crowd roars louder than Osamu has ever heard it. Bored, he watches as gladiators fight in the ring. The arena is bathed in blood, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He hasn’t cared about much since you died.

He wasn’t even sure why. He barely knew you. But he keeps thinking back to the kiss you shared on New Year’s. He thinks of your words.

“You watch us run!”

“Is this seat taken?” A voice yells over the crowd, and his heart stutters to a halt. He turns, eyes wide to see you.

Oh, how cruel this life was.

You’re dressed in a fashionable, long tunic that goes down to your ankles with a shawl of sorts around your shoulders. Your hair is longer than Osamu remembered. It is no longer a bob but instead curled at the front and with a braided crown in the back. You hold that journal under your arm and smile brightly before scurrying over and sitting beside him.

“Where are we at now?” You ask excitedly, pleased to see him.

But all he can see is your dead body in his arms.

Was there some god up above watching this cruel exchange with glee?

What had he done to deserve this?

“‘samu? Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

‘samu?

The last person to call him that was his mother. Before she and his father began to fight. Back before he could time jump.

Back when things were simple.

Your hand on his arm has Osamu flinching away, causing you to cringe back as well. You look worried, panicked even, and all for him.

So you didn’t know yet. You didn’t know you were going to die.

So, he doesn’t tell you.

“Sorry, my love, I thought you were a monster here to gobble me up!” He chirps, and your panic melts away quickly. You lean back into his side, and he takes the chance to wrap a bandaged arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You giggle and open your book.

“Where are we now?” You repeat, and he shrugs,

“You tell me.” He says, keeping his eyes off your book out of respect and on the gladiator games below.

“France?”

“Not yet.”

“The Wild West? That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Nope.”

You two go back and forth for a moment before you ultimately sigh and clap your book shut.

“It’s very early for you, isn’t it?” You say, mildly exasperated. Osamu nods silently, heart twisting when you set your book down and lean heavily into his side. He trickles his fingers along your neck, feeling goosebumps rise along the skin, and you shiver.

The games end, and you shuffle out of the Colosseum and through the streets of Rome. You boldly take ahold of Osamu’s hand as if this was regular for you. He can’t bring himself to let go, so he instead makes you laugh by swinging your arms between you, occasionally twirling you in a circle. His chilton feels suffocating despite it being made of linen.

But he can’t bring himself to time jump away. To leave you alone to spare his own feelings.

Perhaps it’s the overwhelming guilt he feels?

Perhaps it’s because he finds himself enjoying your company.

Either way, he allows you to pull him around the ancient cobblestone streets of Rome. Enjoying the markets and public museums that were beginning to pop up all over the city.

The entire time, he doesn’t let go of your hand.

August 8th, 1912

The Wild West

It’s hot.

Almost overwhelmingly so.

Osamu peels off one of his gloves and fans his face with it as he climbs the steps to the little cabin he had been staying at. His bandages itch with the heat, and he has a sneaking suspicion that they’re slowly soaking with sweat underneath his borrowed button-down, vest, trousers, and chaps.

Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he liked this place sans the heat. The people in this little settled town were kind, barely batting an eye when he suddenly appeared in their home. The people he was currently staying with, an older couple named Buck and Bonnie, welcomed him with open arms. They claimed it was because he reminded them of their son, who was out settling the rest of the West.

“Osamu? Are you done already?” Bonnie asks where she’s putting a pie on the windowsill to cool. Apple, by the smell of it, and utterly delicious.

“Just taking a break, Bonnie. Buck works me to the bone!” He says and collapses on the couch, his spurs jingling as he kicks his feet up over the edge of the sofa and leans his head back, tipping his hat down over his face. He hears Bonnie say something, but he’s already halfway to dreamland.

Despite only intending to sleep for a few minutes, Osamu naps for the better part of an hour. He only wakes up when he hears the whinny of an unfamiliar horse and quick steps up to the cabin door. Then, an excited set of knocks.

“Can you get that, Osamu? I’m busy with supper!” Bonnie calls from the kitchen, and he calls back, saying that he would.

Only to come face to face with you.

It had been ages since he saw you. He had yet to see you at any significant historical events that he time jumped to. The Titanic, the moon landing. Hell, he hadn’t even seen you during World War Two when he was accidentally drafted!

“You!” He jabs a finger, and you grin adoringly, stepping under his arm and skipping to the kitchen.

“It’s me, Granny!” You chirp, and he hears a delighted squeal.

“Dearest! It’s been ages!”

So you’ve been here before.

Several times by how familiar Bonnie seemed with you.

Osamu meanders his way into the kitchen, where Bonnie is wiping her hands on her apron. She grins at the sight of him,

“This is Osamu! He’s been helping Buck around the farm for the last few weeks!” She says, and Osamu tips his hat with a wink.

“We’ve met before.” He says, and you jump up from where you had been sitting at the dining table and throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“‘samu!” You cheer, and he returns any affection greedily, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He’s still unable to get the sight of your corpse out of his mind. But he vowed that if he ever saw you again, he’d accept any love you’d give him.

You’re dressed the part of a cowgirl. A long calico skirt and long-sleeved button-down. Your hair is longer than he remembered, tied back in a braid, and a bandana around your neck to protect you from the harsh sun above. Your hat sits on the table, and so do your gloves.

Your skin is just as soft as he remembers.

It isn’t long before Buck is called in for dinner, and the four of you eat together. You sit to Osamu’s right, with Bonnie to his left and Buck across from him. You chat happily with the couple, and Osamu is content with just sitting and watching. You tell an obviously edited version of your adventures, with grand sweeping gestures and voices to accompany your tales.

Long after Bonnie and Buck go to bed, Osamu finds you on the swinging bench on the front porch. You’re writing in your journal, about halfway full, and sketching a picture of him.

It’s an incredible likeness to his face and rather impressive to look at. You even got his cowboy hat right.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, and you jump, slamming your journal shut and looking up with wide eyes. But you realize it’s him, relax, your shoulders sagging, and nod with a smile. The wood creaks as he sits at your side. His arm stretches along the back like it belongs there, and you lean into his side. He relished in your warmth.

“Have we done Rome yet?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“I was thinking of going there next, though!” You say, and he nods, leaning his head against yours.

“How come you never go to big events?” He asks next, and you hum with a shrug,

“I like the little days. I like seeing how people live their day-to-day lives.” You say, and he can’t help but laugh.

You were truly the exact opposite of him.

You swat his chest,

“Don’t laugh at me!” You cry with mock anger, but a smile curls the corners of your mouth. Like you liked hearing him laugh. You give him pause when you lean up and press a kiss to his nose. He freezes, blinks several times, and stares down at you.

“I love your laugh.” You say, and his smile falters just the slightest bit.

No one liked hearing him laugh.

Not since he left home, at least.

But you were his home now.

October 31st, 2012

Yokohama, Japan

Fog rolls through the streets of Yokohama. Osamu strolls the streets, hands in his pockets. He was alone. At least for the time being. At least until you showed up again.

If you showed up again.

No… You would… Osamu had faith. You usually did on the small days.

Whenever his nightmares got particularly bad, he’d time jump to a place he thought you’d like. This time, it was Yokohama, Japan. Notably, it was Halloween. Nothing ever happened on Halloween. Well… except for that one time…

Oh, whatever.

He had been here for a few months, finding himself at peace in modern-day Japan. He discovered his parent’s graves and realized he was home.

At least… when he wasn’t with you.

Until he saw you crossing the street.

You looked younger than he had ever seen you before. Another young girl walked beside you, both of you dressed in Halloween costumes and laughing amongst yourselves.

But the longer he watched you, the longer he realized something.

You wouldn’t know who he was. No, no, no, it was much too early for that. He had never seen you so young before. Not even in pictures when you had shown him at Versailles.

Was this before you began to time jump?

Suddenly, a hand smacked the back of his head, and he flinched, turning to see his newest acquaintance, Kunikida Doppo. He was shouting something. Something about being a bandage-wasting machine. Something about being a lowlife. He didn’t bother listening.

Instead, he looked back to see you looking at him. There isn’t the faintest glimpse of recognition in your eyes. Nary a clue of who he is.

You genuinely don’t know who he is at this point in time.

You lift a hand and wave with a friendly smile, unknowingly making his heart crack in two.

So, he turns, walks past Kunikida without a word, and heads back the way he came.

“Dazai!” Kunikida’s voice, and he hears his acquaintance (He doesn’t have friends. He’s utterly alone in this world.) running up behind him.

“What is it, Kunikida.” His voice sounds oddly monotone, and he knows he has to get you out of his head before he breaks down. He can’t ever come back here, not without causing a paradox and ripping Yokohama apart.

And that would mean he would never see you, ever.

“Are you okay?” Kunikida’s voice makes him stop. He spins with a plastic smile on his face and his heart threading to pieces.

“Of course I’m okay! What makes you think otherwise?” He titters with an all too fake-sounding laugh. Kunikida looks uncharacteristically solemn.

“Well… For instance, you’re crying.” He says, concern seeping into his tone.

Osamu reaches up and touches his cheek, finding that it is indeed wet and glistening with tears.

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #osamu dazai x y/n #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #fairy writes #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd

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mono-dot-jpeg · 1 year

Text

protection - k. leona

summary; you don't need protection but leona likes to insist on it when the rest of his dorm are trying to be assholes.

genre/extra tags; fluff, comedy if you squint, jaguar! reader, cat behaviors but with humans, quiet-ish(?)! reader, reader has vitiligo, reader is mc but not really???, reader is referred to as mc and prefect, reader has no mentioned skin tone, reader is implied to be shorter but not by much (sorry, jaguars are just shorter than lions), slightly badly written hurt/comfort, ooc leona?????

[warnings; assholes being assholes, making fun of appearances (specifically vitiligo) but like this all only happens at the start and 1-2 times]

[gender neutral! reader]

word count; 907

a/n; yippee!!! thank you for the request! i hope you enjoy! i had a good time writing this! something abt jaguars just makes me so happy like when i watch owls. they're just silly little guys yk

also im bad at writing mean shit sometimes so uih,,,, dink donk sorry. also the spots that reader have are the rosette spots that jaguars have!! i only say the ones on the arms but it's implied that there's a pattern on them on their body :)))

you haven't really had much time in the savanaclaw dorm because despite how it contains people like you, they were not very nice. but it didn't really matter to you as you didn't need a pack to live happily. you have a pack, yeah, but it wasn't really a necessity for your kind of beastmen. you've learned very quickly that jaguar beastmen aren't really social people. so you've been accustomed to being alone in peaceful silence.

"you're brave for coming here looking like that. spots and all."

and you're more than used to a few verbal jabs about your looks.

you attempt to walk past the three beastmen but they're blocking your way. you huffed in annoyance.

"are you here to see dorm leader? because i'm sure he doesn't want to see you." one of them (the assumed leader) pokes at a particularly different part of your skin. it just happens to be one of the several spots you sport on your arm, the biggest rosette spot. you don't say anything as you push past them.

the collar of your shirt is tugged on, forcing you to stop. "we didn't say you could leave, short ass."

"no, you didn't, but i did." leona's voice rings out in the common room of the dorm. the air felt colder than ice despite the beaming sun outside. "you got a lot of nerve trying to make fun of my partner, you know?" he rolls his eyes at the trio as he pulls you to his side. "you okay, mc? they didn't hurt you right?"

you're faced away from the three as you look at leona, "i'm good." you mutter. you're not really shaken up, maybe feeling a little odd. somehow it felt different from the other times that you've been made fun of. was it because of leona coming to help?

"good. if there's any scratch of you, i don't think i would be so easy on you lot. tch." leona glared tiredly at the three beastmen. the trio pathetically blabbers their apologies as they leave. "why don't you fight back?"

you shrug as you both walk to leona's room, "i'm used to it. it's not the first time people picked on me." your ears flicker at the sound of beastmen in their respective dorm rooms. you can distinctly hear jack working out, it makes you huff in amusement. "i'm not social like you, leona, i don't express my anger as easily as you. also they just wanted to get a rise out of me to make me look bad in front of you."

"well, you should say when you're mad. or at least fight back?" he muttered. "you're... just as strong as i am."

"heh, takes a lot to call me strong, my lion." you snickered for a second but you stop, frowning slightly as you remember the odd feeling from earlier.

"shut up." he knocks a knuckle against your head. he opens to the door to his room, he gently grabs your hand and takes you into his room. closing the door and locking it, he faces you. "are you sure you're okay?" he asks. his eyes are stern but soft as he stares at you.

you take a moment to answer. in that moment, he rubs his head against your neck as if to comfort. "i don't know? felt weird when you stood up for me." he moves his head to look at you and wait for you to continue. your hands grip his clothes at the waist. "it didn't feel bad. they made fun of my... spots. i'm usually used to it but it felt different today. is that weird?" your ears flatten as you look up at him.

"nothing weird about feeling bad. being insulted sucks." he pauses, "was it at least a good thing that you felt when i came around?" his free hand reaches to brush his fingers through the layer of fur on your ears.

you lean into the touch, "i think so. but the insults kind of sunk in after that too..." you muttered as you rest your body against his. he's quick to lead you onto the bed, both of you laying down and finally getting comfy. "didn't like it. just wish they just made fun of my personality and not.. something i can't control." you try your best to explain. you pick at the stray hairs on his face, staring at your jaguar spots on your arms. "heard comments like it all the time and yet... something felt off." you sigh, "maybe it was because they mentioned you." his ears twitch at the comment.

"what did they say?"

"that you wouldn't wanna see me. poked at my spot after that." your finger rubs over the biggest rosette on your forearm.

"i'll make sure they get their heads straight." his hand grabs at your wrist and moves your arm as his lips kiss the spots. "until then, i won't ever say i don't want to see you. i love you a lot... and i hope you know that." his voice is stern but you can see the love pouring from his eyes as he stares at you.

you can feel your face go warm as he continues to stare at you, "s-stop looking at me like that, would you?!"

"but it's cute watching you be all embarrassed over me saying i love you." he snickers.

"back- back off, leona! not all of us are whipped for their partners!"

"don't lie to yourself, you love me too."

#twisted wonderland #twst leona kingscholar #disney twst #twst leona x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader

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bluestrawberrybunny · 13 days

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Hehe. @briandraws and @shygirl4991 because you two seemed interested in these goobers. You can ask me not to tag you anymore and that’s fine-

Still no idea what their ship name should be, so if anyone has any ideas, go ahead and feel free to share them! ^^

Gonna be writing a fic for these goobers eventually.

But yeah, Kris is taller than Donnie. In the show, he’s 5 ft 6 (from what I’ve found. My god, he’s shorter than Luigi-) and Kris is around 6 ft 1, and torments him for this relentlessly.

So, some more general info about this ship below the cut because these dorks and consuming my brain rn. I guess kinda spoilers for the fic?? IDK. It’s more a quick rundown of the plot. If you wanna read the fic I’m gonna write blind, then ignore it.

Kris used to be a Purple Dragon, but sort of switched sides shortly after they started working for Shredder. He sort of became an informant for the turtles, having struck a deal with them so that he could continue to keep the reputation of being a Purple Dragon without actually having to deal with the beat-downs the turtles would give them.

Kris is a year older than the turtles, Casey, and April.

Before they found out that he’s a part of the Purple Dragons, April ended up having a crush on him during her stint of time hating the turtles after her father was mutated. But Kris wasn’t into her and shut her down quick.

At some point, the Purple Dragons and Shredder find out about Kris betraying them and beats him up, threatening to hurt his family if he dares to double cross them again, which leads to him fighting the turtles.

Donnie is confused by all of this and knows something is up, so he heads to Kris’ apartment, where he finds out that he lives with his elderly grandpa and helps take care of his triplet younger siblings (Mark, Ethan, and Amy (If you get the reference you now platonically own my heart)) alongside his twin brother Manny. Donnie then promises Kris that he’ll help him, and Kris sort of brushes him off.

But eventually the foot do kidnap Kris’ family (who had no idea he was a Purple Dragon either), and the turtles jump in to help Kris rescue them, which is when Kris finally decides to quit the Purple Dragons for good and join the team. All of this takes place before the Kraang invasion of New York, so he and his siblings are there for season 3’s events, and Kris joins in for season 4’s events too because my boy is going to space. Manny doesn’t get involved much because he is not much of a fighter. Although he and Mikey do become friends who begin shipping Kris and Donnie together once they see how the two interact.

April is ecstatic over Kris joining the team, and Donnie is now unsure of how he feels about the whole situation because he’s still having his bi awakening, y’all.

But he does have some rivalry with Kris, similar to how he does with Casey, although it is very one-sided. Kris just goes along with it cuz he’s grown to love messing with him.

But after Kris shuts April down for the umpteenth time (yes, she goes after him like Donnie does with her because haha irony-), Donnie realizes that he isn’t really competition for April’s affections. But he still keeps doing what he’s doing and having this rivalry with him, even though April has been completely removed from the equation.

Haha, turns out he’s bi and has a thing for Kris and this realization sends our beloved Donatello SPIRALING.

And to my fellow TMNT 2012 fans… remember the Bigfoot episode?

Kris is absolutely seething with jealousy towards Bigfoot throughout that whole thing. My guy turns greener than all the turtles combined with jealousy. He’s actually the reason Bigfoot runs away because dude just snaps of her for daring to get so close to Donnie and keep bugging him like that.

He eventually confesses to this once the turtles tell him off, although he does say it’s because Bigfoot was “being creepy” towards his “friend” *cough* crush *cough* and that it made him uncomfortable to see Donnie uncomfortable.

And, Donnie may be a genius on paper, but he is dumber than a box of rocks with this shit because he completely misses all the signs that Kris is in love with him. Like… my guy a bit stoopid and I love him for it.

Not gonna spoil how they get together tho.

But as an official couple, they are unbearable. Kris will annoy Donnie while he is working. Donnie will drag Kris into his science stuff and ramble about it for hours. No, Kris will not understand a single word he said but will listen to the yapping anyway.

Kris also came up with a stupid human disguise that somehow worked so he and Donnie can go on dates in public, although they do frequent Murakami’s place for the obvious reasons (although it was strange when Kris first showed up there since he was sort of involved in that first fight but had ran the second he saw 4 giant turtles come in and beat up his… coworkers?? They definitely weren’t really friends. Bro was a part of the gang for survival purposes only)

They are insufferable when it comes to PDA after a while. It takes Donnie a bit to get used to it, since… first boyfriend and first relationship, but once he’s warmed up to it, he’s all for it. Hand holding, kissing, cuddling, they even started calling each other those cheesy pet names, but only in front of others. Like, Honey-Bun, Turtle-Pie, Schmoopikins, all of those.

Kris brews Donnie’s coffee and will drag his ass to bed if it kills him. He takes care of 3 9 year olds. He can handle a grown-ass (sort of…) turtle.

So… that’s all for now :3

#my art #tmnt 2012 #2012 donnie #Kris Boyce #oc x canon #Kris x Donnie #my oc #tmnt au #ye #sorry for the long ramble under the cut I just have so much in my brain for these two

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mins-fins · 1 year

Text

stay forever — park gunwook

amusement park dates and gunwook are the best serotonin.

tags :: park gunwook x m!reader , requested! , established relationship , the prompt was literally so cute tf :( , my melody (gunwook) kuromi (reader) , they just do couple shenanigans , amusement park dates on top!!

“aww, look at you y/n, so cute!”

“shut up”.

y/n grumbles, he keeps his hands intertwined with gunwook's as he lets the boy drag him around.

the week had been tiring for y/n, and gunwook had noticed the stress taking a toll on his partner, so he devised a plan to make his weekend much more bearable.

an amusement park date.

that has a catch though. they had to wear these matching hats.. okay, they were cute, but y/n would never admit that.

“look look! a photo booth!”

“you wanna take pictures?”

“hell yeah!”

y/n continues to let gunwook drag him, taking him into the photo booth. he seems excited, his partner can tell. gunwook jumps up and down like a little kid, looking over at the taller.

“what should we do?”

“hm?”

“like— how should we pose? you'd be sexy! i already know that but—“

the taller chuckles at how loudly gunwook is thinking, having no shame in his words. he was so much more cuter than the intimidating front he put up all the time.

“oh! i got it! what if i lean on you?”

“you know i don't like taking pictures gunwook..”

“hey! this is your weekend to relax!” he exclaims, lightly hitting him in the shoulder. “no need to be so tense, just calm down”.

y/n just sighs, feeling gunwook adjust the kuromi hat on his head. he had picked it out for the both of them, y/n remembers how excited he was when explaining how he'd bought matching hats for the two of them.

okay, he'd do this one thing, only for him.

“how many pictures should we take then?”

“hm.. probably four, or else we'll have to pay more”.

“or we could just stea— ow!”

“no stealing, l/n, i don't need to get into any more trouble with jiwoong hyung” gunwook points a taunting finger, waving it dangerously.

y/n chuckles, rolling his eyes. he pulls gunwook closer, making the boy stumble. “come on, let's just take the pictures now..” he mumbles, hiding the way he was clearly amused by his words.

he wraps a hand around gunwook's shoulder, and only smiles cheekily when he gets nudged by him. gunwook doesn't mind, nodding as he presses the button in front of them.

the timer counted down from three to one, and then, the photo was taken. gunwook squeals, happy. “one down, three more to go”.

“shouldn't we be more creative for the next one?”

“what!? the l/n y/n is actively participating in something he doesn't like? i'm baffled!”

the l/n huffs, crossing his arms. “i— shut up! it was just a suggestion!”

gunwook rolls his eyes, arms around his waist. “okay, mr. genius, what do you think we should do then?”

y/n sighs, leaning back. he almost falls, but gunwook's arm is enough to keep him from doing so. he runs his finger up and down his arm, a habit of his ever since he met y/n.

“what if..”

“what if?”

he pulls gunwook by his waist, resulting in a yelp from the shorter. he ruffles his hair, and smiles.

“god, your so cute!”

“y/n, that hurts!”

gunwook whines as the taller pinches his cheek, and he clicks the button as the timer counts down from three to one and snaps a picture of the moment.

he jumps back, almost hitting himself against the wall. “y/n!”

“sorry sorry” the l/n laughs. “i just couldn't resist, your such a cutie—“

“okay, stop it!”

y/n notices how his cheeks are growing even more red by the moment, gunwook huffs as he turns away, crossing his arms. “it's not funny” he mumbles, noticing how his partner began to laugh.

gunwook knows he can't stay mad at him forever. he laughs and turns his way, pouting. “okay, but it seriously wasn't funny, y/n”.

“i never said it was”.

“you were laughing”.

y/n is seriously enamored by his partner.

“okay okay, let's just finish the next two photos”.

“okay mr. 'i don't like taking pictures'” gunwook mocks, his imitation of his boyfriend basically spot on.

“alright, come here”.

he ushers gunwook closer, and he obliges despite still holding that grudge from earlier. “what if we make a heart?”

gunwook gasps. “truly romantic!” he exclaims, sounding like a kid in a candy store. “let's do two different ones, for the last two photos”.

“really? that isn't repetitive to you?”

“nope! it symbolizes my love for you!” gunwook takes his partners hand and places a kiss atop his knuckles, smiling.

y/n scoffs, taken aback by exactly how much in love he was with this boy.

“which ones should we do?”

“how about you decide this time? i decided before..”

gunwook smiles, nodding. he then goes into detail about which hearts symbolize what, and how they should do it depending on how much they love each other.

y/n just watched with lovesick eyes as he went on a whole rant.

finally, after gunwook's rant and bangs on the door from other people waiting to use the photo booth, the two had finally finished, and got their printed pictures.

“look at you! your so adorable, told you the hat suits you well” gunwook says, taking his hand as he now drags his partner our of the booth, he willfully ignored how annoyed the others outside the door looked when they finally exited.

“so.. what should we do now?”

“you should buy me cotton candy” gunwook replies, still staring at the photos from earlier.

“i should?” y/n questions, raising his eyebrow. he keeps his hand laced with gunwook's as they walk and stare at the now darkened sky.

“you should! i paid for the photos!” he insists, his eyes finally drift back to y/n, and he gives that signature smile of his.

“alright then, cotton candy it is”.

“hell yeah!”

AUTHORS NOTE — i am SO SO SO SORRY to the person who requested this and had to wait so long! i was busy with school and other requests were being asked for but now i'm finally finished so here you go!!

#park gunwook #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 gunwook #zb1 imagines #kpop imagines #male reader #mlm #boys planet 999 #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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ang33333333l · 9 months

Text

Love is a disease

A/N: AAAAA this prob my longest fanfic for now!! SEBAUNA FOR LIFE!!!!! Thank you @saneriddlefan67 for proofreading it and showing me shorter paragraphs!!!! Also remember reblogs are important but likes and comments are too!!!

Taglist!!!(remember you can always ask to be tagged!!!) @leonakingscholarship @satans-gaurd-dog @silvveringjadestar

Sebek was sick, that was clear as day. The weather had gotten colder, making him more sluggish and weaker to any type of bacteria, it also didn't help that most of the students were also sick with the cold or the flu.

The half-fae was determined to prove that he could be the best knight, still overworked himself to the bone. Of course, there’s a point where a person, no matter if said person was a fae, beastman, or human, that any sickness forces you to stay in bed.

He hated feeling weak, he hated having to depend on someone to help him with basic tasks, perhaps he should've taken Silver’s advice to stay in bed once the cold had gotten to the point of being slightly unbearable.

Sebek groaned, hating how cold it was, yet nothing provided enough warmth for him, even the hot rag on his forehead did nothing for him. Sebek shut his eyes, hoping to get some sleep, then he heard the door opening.

“Hi Sebek!! I heard from Lilia that you were sick!! So I bought some medicine and some soup!!”

An awfully cheery voice rang out in Sebek’s room, it could only belong to Fauna.

“HUMAN?!?!” Sebek yelled out, before coughing and sneezing. “What are you doing here?!”

Sebek hated this, not only was he sick, but his crush saw him sick and weak. This was embarrassing. His hair wasn't gelled up, his face was sweaty, he felt a small amount of snot falling from his nose, his eyes were slightly watery, and he just overall was just a mess.

“Oh don't worry Sebek! I made sure to get the work you miss and I also took some notes!!” Fauna brightly smiled, showing her crooked teeth and the gap in her front two teeth.

Sebek loved it so much when she smiled like that, he loved every part of her, down to the two moles under each of her blue eyes that could only be described as darkish and muted with light blue pupils.

“Well you don't need to worry Human!!! Faes are MUCH more resistant to sickness than humans!!” Sebek smirked, only for it to be followed up with a violent coughing fit.

“Oh don't worry Sebek!! I’ll be fine!!” Fauna walked closer to Sebek, only stopping by the side of the bed to set down the tray. She grabbed the bottle of medicine, putting it onto a spoon.

“Human what are you doing?” Sebek looked over at Fauna, puzzled. “I can very well get myself some medicine!!”

“I know that, silly! But wouldn't it be nice to be taken care of? Plus you keep on coughing and sneezing. I think you might just fly out of your bed!!” Fauna laughed, clearly joking and lightly teasing the half-fae.

Sebek frowned a bit, but she was not wrong. He didn't want to be seen as weak, but the idea of his crush taking care of him wasn't so bad. It actually felt nice, and did inspire a few ideas based on some of the romantic books he read in his head, such as him taking care of her when the time came. Cooking for her, because holy shit, she couldn't cook even if it was to save a life, in fact she would probably be the one who causes the end of a life.

“Sebek?? Sebek, are you okay?” Fauna's voice finally got into his thick skull, the spoon full of the bitter and tar-like medicine near Sebek’s lips.

“Of course!!! It's just a cold!! But…thank you Human..” The half-fae felt his face heating up, but not from sickness, but from the fact that he was so deeply in love with Fauna that the smallest idea of her smiling at him sent his mind running.

Sebek opened his mouth, letting the spoon full of medicine come down his throat. It was awful, sticking to the walls of his throat, only leaving a bitter taste.

Sebek coughed a bit. “I suppose you brought water, Human?..” He saw Fauna nodding from the corner of his eye. She then handed the half-fae the glass of water.

Sebek quickly grabbed it, gulping it down, desperately trying to wash the bitterness from his throat. “...Thank you Hu-...Fauna..”

“You said my name…” Fauna was surprised, her eyes wide. “I like how you say it, you should say it more often.” Fauna smiled, handing Sebek the soup.

“Could…Could you perhaps feed me it? Just so I don't sneeze and spill it all over me.” Sebek quickly looked away, feeling embarrassed for even requesting it.

“Of course Sebek! I wouldn't mind! Plus I really don't have anything to do right now!” Fauna grabbed a different spoon on the tray, getting a good spoonful of soup.

Sebek opened up his mouth, letting Fauna feed him. Slowly but surely, the bowl was empty and Sebek felt full.

“Thank you Fa-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?”

Sebek yelled out as Fauna climbed into the bed after putting the bowl back onto the tray.

“Well when I came in here Lilia said you needed more warmth!! So I remember how we cuddled during that time we visited Epel’s hometown!!”

Fauna got comfortable in the bed, wrapping her arms around Sebek.

“But you’ll get sick!!!” Sebek kept on yelling, slowly melting into putty in Fauna’s arm. He buried his head into her neck, grumbling something.

“Don't worry!! I don't get sick that easily!!” Fauna rubbed his back, making him breathe softly. The half-fae slowly fell asleep, Fauna soon followed afterwards.

Epilogue

Fauna was coughing, she was now sick. Of course it was to be expected when you snuggle up to someone who sounded like they were a Victorian sick child.

“I TOLD YOU FAUNA!!!!!” Sebek’s voice rang out in Ramshackle, Fauna swore she saw some of the floor panels shake and move a bit.

“It's fine Sebek, it was worth it because…”

Fauna froze, unable to say the simple words.

“Because you're my friend…”

She forced a smile, why was it so hard to just say ‘I love you’?

#twisted wonderland #twst #internetangelpost #twst oc #sebek zigvolt #disney twisted wonderland #oc x canon #sebek x fauna #fauna x sebek #⚡️🌺#🌺fauna #twst fluff #twst sebek #twst sebek zigvolt #sebek twst #sebek twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt x oc

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thesparklingwriter · 2 years

Text

to be comforted

“Please never do that again."

tags: pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, reader is claustrophobic and ends up in a small space

content warning: panic attack

ao3 link | taglist | masterlist | next

thank you for the request nonnie! i went a little bit off prompt cause i didn't want to relive a particular panic attack, but if you were looking for something a bit more family related or emotional, i think you might like this one

as usual i pumped this out in 50 minutes, i will check over it with fresh eyes tomorrow blah blah blah

You’re one of those people who generally aren’t easily fazed. You’ll fight anything that comes to you in the wild, you’ll tell anyone who is irritating you where to get off. You’ve trained yourself to be like that, after years and years of being pushed around by those around you.

And you’ve taken it for granted that you no longer fear things like being abandoned or pushed around so strongly—to the point where you’ve forgotten your other fears.

“Come on, Li, let’s look in the cave.” You grin, dragging Zhongli along behind you. The man seems to have no sense of urgency, only watching you with a dazed, lovesick expression. “I want to see if I can find another cor lapis like last time.”

“This cave isn’t what I’d call structurally sound,” He grumbles, following you in. He has this strange sense that something is watching you, but he can’t put his finger on what it is. He doesn’t want to say anything, just in case it derails your fun. He decides, however, that he could just be being paranoid, so he follows you inside.

“I’ll be quick. I promise,” You grin, running inside. The tunnel is shorter than you remember, and the opening to the trove of precious stones has been blocked. You look behind you, only to see a large rock being pushed to the entrance you just walked through.

“Li? What’s going on?” You ask nervously, your vision offering a faint source of light in the new found pitch black.

“Someone has been tailing us,” he mutters. “Stay there. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Wait! Zhongli—” But he’s already teleported out of the cave, intending to catch the freak chasing the two of you in the act. He left you in there so he knew you’d be safe. By the time anyone attempted moving the other rock, he’d be back. You’d be perfectly fine.

But you’re not. You move into the middle of the enclosure you find yourself in. No door. No light. Just you. The walls feel like they’re closing on you. The air becomes thick and heavy. Every breath you take isn’t enough to fill your lungs. It starts feeling swelteringly hot, like someone’s lit a fire in the corner of the room, and the smoke is filling your lungs. You slam your hands on the rock of the entrance.

“Let me out!” You scream, your voice raw, as if you’ve been screaming for hours already. Your hands catch a sharp edge on the rock, cutting your hand, but you barely even notice. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, and you scream again, tears running down your face. You can't breathe, you can’t think. There’s no one to help you and you’re going to die in here.

You scream again. “Get me out of here!”

But again, no one comes to your aid, and you find yourself tumbling to the floor and helplessly pounding your hand against the rock. The walls are still closing in on you. There’s nowhere to go. You’re trapped. You’re going to die in this cave and no one is ever going to know you were ever here. The slight light emitting from your vision is distorted, creating shadows of figures that you know are coming to claim your life. You’re going to die.

The wall you’re leaning on crumbles and your upper body falls to the ground. You don’t even have the energy to catch yourself—your eyes are firmly shut, your chest rising and falling frantically as if you were simply waiting for death to take you, but you were still afraid of the concept. If it weren’t for a pair of gloved hands catching you, your head would have hit the floor.

“You’re wounded,” Zhongli bundles you up into his arms, teleporting you back home almost immediately. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He was gone for two minutes maximum, and he had no clue you were afraid of small spaces. This is all his fault.

“Would you take a deep breath for me?” He says softly. Your face is buried into his chest, and all he can hear is your muffled sobs. But he feels you heave some fresh air into your lungs. “That’s it. Can you do another?”

You do it again. Even though your heart hasn’t slowed down, your breathing begins to settle. When you realise you’re in his arms, you relax slightly. You feel safe, like he’ll protect you from any harm that may come to pass. He presses his hand against yours, trying to slow the blood flow whilst he waits for you to calm down a little. He sits down on the sofa, and you curl into him, your uninjured hand gripping his desperately.

“I sincerely apologise. I wasn’t aware you were claustrophobic. I should have handled the situation differently.” You push your face into his chest again, breathing in the comforting scent of his musky cologne. He’s here. He’s real. “I’m truly sorry.” he whispers, gently uncurling his hand from around yours. It’s not too bad of an injury, but he can’t leave you like this.

“What can I do to ease your suffering?” Zhongli asks as he pulls his handkerchief from his pocket.

“Please never do that again,” you whisper. Zhongli feels tears prick at his eyes. You sound so helpless, so small, so hurt by his actions. He’d thought of the simplest solution for him, and not what would be best for you. He was selfish.

“I won't let this happen again.” He replies back, gently wrapping his handkerchief around your hand. “Should I get you some water?”

“Don't leave,” you mutter, your grip on his shirt growing tighter. “Don't leave me again.”

“I won’t.” He mutters back, lowering his head to kiss your forehead—a gentle reminder that he’s here, and he has no intention of leaving.

When you’ve calmed down enough for your shaking to cease, and your vice on his shirt to loosen, he cleans your hand up properly, and gives you a cup of warm tea to sip on. He apologises profusely whenever the opportunity presents itself.

“Should I run you a bath?” he asks you softly, running his fingers through your hair.

“I don’t feel like being alone right now.” you reply. “Would you join me?”

“Of course,” he smiles.

And it's like that, with your back pressed against his firm chest and the warm caress of the water relaxing your tense muscles, that you fall asleep in his arms, the worries of the day beginning to melt away as you snore softly.

a/n forgot to mention Zhongli's half-dragon in the last bit and now i can't make it fit but i'm pushing rin's dragon zhongli agenda and you can't stop me ^^

#tswzhongliflufftober #zhongli fluff #zhongli fanfic #zhongli #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fluff #genshin #zhongli x reader #flufftober #zhongli flufftober #zhongli brainrot is coming in strong i think about him at least four times an hour there is seriously something wrong with me #update: oct 2023 the fact thinking about him 4 times an hour was unusual for me back then is so wild because now i go to bed thinking about #him and i wake up thinking about him

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chizue-witchery · 1 year

Text

⚜️. *. ⋆ Fandom: QSMP | Quackity SMP

⚜️. *. ⋆ Pairing: Jaiden Animations & Roier

⚜️. *. ⋆ Character/s: Jaiden Animations, Roier

⚜️. *. ⋆ Summary: Roier is holding her hands like she'll disappear from his grasp and she doesn't understand why. She's right here.

⚜️. *. ⋆ Word Count: 1,010

⚜️. *. ⋆ Warnings/Tags: major character death, hurt no comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst

⚜️. *. ⋆ Prompts/Squares Filled: "How many fingers am I holding up?" || @whumptober • Doesn't Realize They've Been Injured || @badthingshappenbingo • "Don't cry." || 100 Ways to say "I Love You" Challenge Prompt#39

Whumptober2023 Masterlist || BTHB Masterlist || 100WTSILY Masterlist

AO3

A/N: before clicking the read more, this is a disclaimer that they are the characters/cubitos and not the content creators themselves!! other than that, i hope you enjoyed reading my first ever whumptober entry! <3

"¿Cuántos dedos tengo en la mano?" A voice calls out to Jaiden; a voice she can barely recognize due to her ears ringing, squinting her eyes to try and recognize who is holding her hands tightly. She could feel a wet pooling sensation beside her, wondering what it could be.

"Mírame, Jaiden." Jaiden didn't even know she was off looking to the side, away from the face she could barely recognize, turning back to look at the face. She could barely make out any of the person's features but she recognized the bandanna that is currently wrapped around her hands.

Someone is holding her hands like she'll disappear from their grasp and she doesn't understand why. But she knows who owns that bandanna.

"Roier…?" She whispered, realizing how much it hurt to say something. Her throat burns and she doesn't know why.

Her vision is slowly clearing and she could see Roier's panicked expression; an expression Jaiden hasn't seen on him for a long time. She wonders why he is looking at her like that. His grip on her hands never seemed to waver, but she could feel them shaking.

"Jaiden," he said, his voice sounding calm and collected even though Roier's expression isn't. He lets go of one of her hands and lifts a finger. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Jaiden squints her eyes, her vision still not fully cleared. Still, she answers, "... four?"

Roier's brows furrowed. He repeated the question, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

She must have guessed wrong, then. She tries again. "Three?"

Roier shakes his head, then sighs. "It's one, Jaiden."

"Oh," is what all she says, not knowing how to respond to it. She must be out of it if she got it wrong twice.

Jaiden tries to get herself up, but Roier prevents her from doing so. "No te muevas, Jaiden– don't move," he tells Jaiden and she stops. "Las pociones no funcionarán contigo. Estas demasiado herido."

When Jaiden doesn't respond, Roier remembers she can't check the translation device due to it being broken during the impact. "The, ah, potions won't work on you. I don't want to risk it."

Roier would've already used a totem of undying to help her, but one has already been used on himself; still feeling the after effects of using it.

Jaiden slowly nods, wondering if it's just her or is her vision getting dark. Her head is starting to hurt too, shutting her eyes close to help ease the pain for a brief moment. "What.. happened..?"

Roier releases Jaiden's hands, wrapping an arm around her instead to keep her steady. "The Code attacked us while we were exploring." A pause. "Hice lo mejor que pude para protegerte, pero fallé…"

Jaiden hums and exhales a shaky breath. "Thank you for protecting me, Roier…"

"It wasn't enough," he retorted. "Aún te lastimaste y ahora estás—" He stops himself from continuing his words.

Jaiden didn't need the translation to know what he's talking about. She could feel it in the way the pool around her doesn't stop, even with the bandages wrapped around her waist. Her breaths are getting shorter and she opens her eyes so she can look at Roier one last time, even if it feels heavy.

"Thank you for being the best partner I could've had in taking care of Bobby," she slowly starts out and Roier's eyes widen.

"Cállate, Jaiden–" he says, "We're going to get through this. Don't—" His voice cracks at the end.

"It's okay," Jaiden whispers, lifting her hand to caress Roier's cheek, noticing the blood (her blood) smearing it. "It's okay…" she repeated softly.

Roier's eyes never leave hers as he places his free hand on top of hers, closing his eyes as a tear rolls down his cheek.

"Don't cry, Roier." She tells him with a smile while the tear droplets land on her face. "You'll… you're going to get through this…" Jaiden's smile never wavers even as more tears drop on her face. She only looks at him like she always does; safe. "You have Cellbit, Foolish, Forever– you have everyone by your side."

Roier shakes his head. "I won't have you."

"No… no, you won't." She slowly shakes her head. "But it's okay."

"It's not." told Roier, eyes brimming with more tears. "No puedo perderte también–"

Jaiden quietly shushes him as she lifts herself up a bit to press their foreheads together as she closes her eyes. "You're going to be okay."

Roier closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then he opens them once again to look at Jaiden. This will be the last time he'll see her. He can feel it's going to be the last time he'll see her.

She won't respawn and they both know it.

Which is why Jaiden tries her best to be strong for Roier even if her body hurts a thousand times more every time she moves. Because Roier has always been strong for both her and Bobby, it's time for her to be strong for him.

She stops holding Roier's cheek and wraps both of her arms around him, giving him comfort in her final moments because it's the only thing she can do.

Roier wraps his other arm around her, keeping her close because it's the only thing he can do. They're way too far and there isn't enough time to save Jaiden's life.

It's the end.

"Te quiero mucho, Jaiden…" he whispers to her as the sun sets behind them.

"I love you too, Roier," she whispers back to him as her hold on him loosens, feeling colder and colder by the second.

"Saluda a Bobby de mi parte…"

Jaiden never got to hear his last words, her eyes closed with a contented smile as she slumps over Roier.

She never got to hear Roier cry nor did she feel him shake her body as he tells her to wake up over and over again until he had to be dragged away from her body.

Jaiden's gone and Roier breaks.

#whumptober #whumptober2023 #no.1 #how many fingers am i holding up?#qsmp #fic #jaiden animations #roier #qjaiden #qroier #major character death tw #badthingshappenbingo #100 ways to say i love you

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nobodysdaydreams · 8 months

Text

Y'ALL I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN. WTF? WTF?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

(Or my reaction to Episodes 53-54 of Wolf359).

Welcome back dear readers! Thank you for enjoying my reaction to the Mission Mishap and mini episodes, which were shorter and a lot easier to fit into my busy schedule. I try to make sure I have time to type out good live quality reactions for you guys, so thanks for your patience on this.

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom @lovelyladylavie

Episode 53: Dirty Work

This episode has gotten a lot of hype from the mutuals. I hope that means Pryce and Cutter are actually gonna bother to show up this time. The two of them did their whole ominous “we’re going to space” thing at the very beginning of this season, well hurry up and go to space then since you care so much! Instead they gave us enough time for Doug to have his radio show arc, which (while it was necessary, and I enjoyed it), just goes to show how much time Pryce and Cutter actually put into this. Which should be evident given that it has taken them at least this long to get to space despite it being their “life’s work” (and for some “higher purpose” they’ll probably monologue about too no doubt 🙄. Hopefully they keep their speech shorter or at least more interesting than Whiskey Boy). Laziest villains of all time sending other people to space the dirty work. Which happens to be the episode title, look at that.

And if I had to guess who is going to be doing Pryce and Cutter’s dirty work, my money’s on Whiskey Boy. Well, actually, my money’s on free-will deprived Hera, but I hope I’m wrong.

Well this is rare. No preview ads to skip through. Huh.

Oh, Minkowski 🥺. We know you didn't want to kill anyone. Don't worry, I will give you justice in fanfic if the show doesn't give it to you here.

HILBERT. Shut up. Even in death, you still don't get it do you? Minkowski has a right to be upset. Even if anyone on this ship makes it back to earth, they are still gonna be extremely traumatized.

Doug, what are you up to now?

And no, Lovelace. Minkowski is not okay. None of you are okay.

"23rd time is the charm!" That's the spirit, Doug! 🥰

Oh right, the reset that Hera has been putting off.

Lol, Hera's "Good Boy". There you go Doug. You see, he can be taught.

"Get him to do what he's told!" Well that would likely be Hera's department.

Not the bottles of beer song. I swear, why are Kepler and Jacobi even still here? What are they contributing? 🍻 "Don't do anything stupid?" a bit late for that.

Um...what is this? Who was that? Wait is that Maxwell's ghost talking to Jacobi?

Do not be a bad guy again Duck Boy. 🦆 That is how your friend got killed, remember? Do you want to be a dead duck?

Well at least we got some music. Nice work, Doug! 🎶

VERIFICATION CODE WHISKEY. a;lsjkfklsdjfk I KNOW Kepler came up with that one. I don't care that it's a legit code, I know it is, but he probably puts Whiskey in every single secret code of his.

Doug. GET BACK INSIDE.

Not demolitions. Jacobi. You fool. You impulsive explosive dumb-dumb. Do not blow up the ship you're on.

"Now I may not be as smart as my late colleague" understatement of the century Jacobi.

Oh great. He's willing to kill them all. Fantastic. Oh and Kepler's coming too. OH. Because Minkowski killed Maxwell and Kepler let her die and had no remorse. Jacobi wants revenge. Oh. Oh no...

"How's your day going?" been better.

Kepler's speech...so was he working with Jacobi this whole time? Convincing plan if he was, but I gotta say Kepler, I don't know if that's gonna work as smoothly for you this time around. Jacobi seemed pretty upset, and there would be no reason for him to reveal that now when he has the upper hand.

SHOOT HIM!

AS:Jlkfjsdlkfjlkds I KNEW IT!!!!!!!

"Pretty please with sugar on top" oh we're going there.

And after hearing about how Kepler bought him explosives...this whole betrayal thing really did go to the next level with them.

"Is this an elaborate prank to teach me a very important lesson?" askjdfkld;jf I love you Doug. 😂 And that would be hilarious.

Poor Doug...that's it Doug! Go into the star! That's what they want! Why do they want this? Who knows. It is weird though. They presumably know that humans die if they do that, and if they wanted them dead there's a million more efficient ways to kill them.

"Blow Kepler's brain's out" "Jacobi...where are you going with this?" Wow, Whiskey Boy really IS slow, isn't he? Maybe it wouldn't have killed him to shed a few fake tears at Maxwell's funeral.

"He was the one who put her in the line of fire, and you should be the one who has to do it."

That does make sense. Because Kepler won't care about shooting Minkowski or anyone else, and while Minkowski certainly wouldn't enjoy dying, she's still tortured with guilt over the fact that she killed Maxwell. But force Minkowski to relive that trauma, intentionally and painfully, and taking everything from Kepler...oh man Duck Boy really did think this through.

"You complete and utter idiot..." YES PUNCH HIM JACOBI! Unconventional grieving process is an understatement.

"I don't want to kill anyone" "Else" ouch.

And yeah... this is Jacobi's "2 birds one bullet solution"

Jacobi is unhinged.

"This is it. Either she shoots you or I kill everyone" yeah it really is over.

Jacobi. You don't need to do this. You really don't.

PHONE CALL?

No. Do not call Pryce and Cutter. Do not call them Jacobi, I don't care if you want to tell them off do not give them information do not call them. Do not call anyone. Maxwell is dead, who does he even have to talk to? Is he gonna call his family? Maxwell's family?

Kepler begging Minkowski for a backup plan...Jacobi really DID beat him...he's nothing now. Though to be fair, he didn't have much to begin with.

"There's no bomb?" Then...what is...oh no. Jacobi what is this game?

"I'm not crazy, that stuff's dangerous!" 😂 Why is Jacobi evil Doug sometimes? I swear if it wasn't for the circumstances they would be friends.

"You've been through plenty, just sit tight. It will all be over soon." I don't know if that's meant to reassure Lovelace or sound ominous Jacobi, but if it was the former, you really gotta work on not sounding like the bad guy.

"Blue, being sucked in, process, killed the original captain Lovelace...the door." There you go Doug! I knew he could figure it out! His science fiction knowledge really comes in handy.

That is a big risk, especially since you don't know what these aliens want, or their history with slimy business man and his evil science girlfriend!

Yep. Leap of faith. Scary stuff, especially when your trust has been broken before.

"Why couldn't it be snakes" Doug, be careful what you wish for.

"How could he? After everything we've been through?" Kepler, be serious. You stalked him, brought him expensive Whiskey and sweet talked a desperate and broken man into joining your murder organization, showed him creepy levels of favoritism at various points in time (especially coming from you of all people), and had zero remorse when you let his best friend get killed. That's what you've been through.

"Will he blow us up" "Yeah." "Can you override his override?" "No. He and Maxwell handled that. I trusted them." Yes, Kepler. And they trusted you. Now one of them is dead. Let's think about this for a moment. I'm sure if we all put our heads together, we can get to the bottom of this mystery of why Jacobi has betrayed you for apparently no reason.

Is Kepler's back up plan shooting Jacobi? OH MY GOSH IT IS...AND YOU WONDER WHY HE BETRAYED YOU? Kepler, you moron, he's probably listening to this entire conversation. He might be deciding which side he wants to back at this very moment. Now is the time to act really really sad about Maxwell and very very broken up about how you treated Jacobi. Not openly admit that you threw Maxwell's life away to get what you wanted, and that you'd throw Jacobi's life away to save your own skin. Otherwise, Jacobi might just end up shooting YOU when he walks through that door.

"Who is putting your station in danger?" You Kepler. You are doing this.

"For once in your life, shut up" About time someone said that Kepler.

"You're hurt, we all are. But you don't have to kill anyone." Oh Minkowski, I know you're trying but Duck Boy is not in a rational space right now. He's literally trolley probleming you right now.

Okay now Minkowski is going insane. Minkowski stop. JACOBI STOP.

If Kepler was a better man he would shoot himself to end this instead of muttering "this is crazy" at the drama that he is directly responsible for. He really does not know when to keep his mouth shut, does he?

"It's not too late to change your mind." YES MINKOWSKI. TEACH THEM GOOD MORALS. It's never too late. Thank you, finally, someone gets it.

"After everything he's done, after everything you've done?" Yes, and after everything you've done too, Jacobi.

Tell him Minkowski. "I know who you're angry at. It's you. Because you could have backed down but you didn't. We both did. We killed two people. And that's eating you up inside."

I love this so much.

"We kill them. Whatever orders, whatever they did, we did it. That's what the riddle teaches you. However you make the choice, you still make the choice. The blood is still on your hands." "You know what doesn't help? MORE BLOOD"

The cycle ends here! YES MINKOWSKI!

"What will?" Jacobi is listening! Come on Duck Boy. You're waddling your way there. You can do it!

"Twenty bucks says I figure it out first" is this really happening???? Is this really happening???? Please tell me Duck Boy doesn't relapse. I need someone to come to reason.

She never had a bullet. You never had a bomb.

YES, Shut Kepler up! FINALLY the team up we deserve.

I'm glad Lovelace and Minkowski are checking in on each other. And you two both deserve command. You need each other. You all need each other.

Oh Hera. She missed the whole thing. 😂

"What did I miss?" Well, Jacobi is a sort of good guy now (or at least an ally), Kepler still sucks, and everyone forgot about Doug.

Wait. DOUG WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

NO DOUG. NO DOUG NO. AT LEAST GO BACK TO THE SHIP AND TALK IT OUT WITH THEM FIRST.

Well that WAS a wild ride. Maybe one of my favorite episodes so far. I can see why y'all were hyping it up.

Episode 54: The Watchtower

Huh. No more pre-episode previews again. And who is this?

Oh Doug. Oh dear. Doug, you poor thing, I'm glad you had a breakthrough but you probably should have talked this through with everyone first.

Doug. Oh Doug. You're the main character and there are a lot of episodes left. You can't just casually throw yourself into the star midway through the season and die like that.

Something is coming out of the star? Reaching out towards, Doug? Oh boy. Well...

...yikes. What is he saying?

Hera is probably listening to this like "oh Doug...Doug what did you do?"

I love how Doug is still talking to Hera. 💕 "Any objections? Good girl." Well that certainly parallels the last chapter...

Wait. Two more stars? Triple star system? That's pretty cool.

Um. What is that? Aliens? ...hopefully nice aliens?

...or not. Oh dear.

...and um. Where is Doug now? Woke up? Woke up from WHAT?

Did the aliens put Doug back in the ship?

Or...is this now clone Doug? I hope not.

Well at least there's breathable air and gravity in this alien hotel.

Mirror? Yeah that is a creepy touch. Considerate, yet creepy.

Self-repairing mirror? Again, cool but creepy. And Doug is prefect for this. They got the movie from YOU MIND Doug. They built this creepy hotel for you, I'm guessing.

And when the alien shows up, I bet it's gonna be one that looks like you or your loved ones given that they used your voice already.

What was that noise?

Are they just keeping him there?

"Let's get our probe on" Doug...they are. What do you think this is?

Yep...alien Doug. Hi alien Doug. :) 👋👽

"Tell me this isn't where I die and you take my place. My dad always said I'd die if I wasn't more careful..." it's alright Doug, I've been told that myself plenty of times.

What?

Words. Speak more words.

Why do they need Doug to speak words?

Ah yes. Mirroring and learning. That's what they want. But why? Why Doug?

Crippled by a language limited by what? Yet achieving interstellar momentum? Uh...what? Symbiological base set of language?

Doug singing the alphabet 😂

DIE????

What is die? The concept is unknown? Oh...oh dear. Explain that it's a bad thing Doug. Explain that it's a very bad scary thing.

"I hate it when Kepler and Jacobi are right" Don't we all Doug, don't we all?

Stops existing!

Incomplete understanding of the universe.

Yes, yes, to dust you shall return, no matter is created or destroyed it simply changes form, but you seem very unnaturally calm about this.

All matter is reused and repurposed. Ceasing from existence is not possible. ...well that's true...but...YOU are something else now. YOU are gone. Something else is in your place now.

Bob. Bob. "Limited time?" "Unsuitable for his biology?" So you DO know what death is. Because you understand that a place unsuitable for his biology = no Doug.

Wait. In the NETWORK? WE? Bob. Are you a hive mind?

"You learned to speak English?" "Correct. It has also lead to debate over whether YOU can speak English." Dang, they really came for him there.

The process? Why are you evaluating Doug?

"Terms you can understand may take some time" Well for super intelligent beings, you should be smart enough to dumb it down.

Don't like that laugh. "A place very very far away from here." Interesting.

"The farthest point away from civilized space"

I see. And what exactly does civilized space look like?

"Discomfort should pass quickly" time is relative, so I hope you're right, Bob.

He gave Doug knowledge? Well, that might be a good way to one up Cutter.

Okay transfer between stars...I'm guessing no, because they didn't use the sun. Huh. I was correct.

Red = no, Blue = go. Well, Bob, sometimes the basics are all you need.

Another species. Rearrange matter? I see. So they are basically aliens with god-like powers that join together to form a superpower.

And they're recruiting humans...but they seem unimpressed so far. Why would they...oh.

They want the music don't they? They've never...they don't have music, but they like it for some reason.

Well then just send them up a band, seems like an easy solution.

Examination, evaluation...surrogates of specimens?

"Unnecessarily dramatic description" "The wolf doesn't even know it's a wolf!" "We arranged atoms" "You brought her back from the dead" "The distinction is irrelevant" Doug, please explain it to them. They really did do Lovelace dirty.

OH MY GOSH THIS IS EXACTLY LIKE WHAT CUTTER DOES TO PEOPLE. Spy on them, and if he likes them, they get to join his special secret club. And if they don't like you...I think we both know what happens Doug. They DO have a concept of death. They just prefer not to call it that.

"Ideally isolation" Well at least they are semi-ethical.

"If they can't be isolated" "redistribution into different atoms" SEE I KNEW IT. They call it redistribution because they can't accept the moral idea of killing people.

"They are given a new purpose." Bob...Bob this is immoral. This is horrifying.

"Terminology is inadequate" his terminology is spot on Bob.

"Our interest in your species is not moral. It is technological" Yeah Bob, I think you made that VERY clear when you said you were willing to kill everyone on Earth if they didn't play nice.

You don't deserve our music Bob. Not one note. Which is...a sentence I never thought I would type as a reaction to this show, but here we are I guess.

They can turn back time, escape death, and traverse space, but they don't have music Doug! Most of their language isn't auditory. They have it, apparently, but not to the extent where they'd develop it.

Commander Zhung...valued the tech more than anything.

Oh. I'd like to have met Commander Zhung (I hope I'm spelling that right). She sounds...she sounds nice if that was her reaction to hearing music for the first time.

"You haven't figured out sound recording?" No, Doug. "The music?" There you go, Doug.

And um...I think the aliens might be more into the oldies and by oldies I mean the classics Doug. The old school classics. Stick to classical music. Not sure they're ready for rock and roll or rap or pop or country.

In time they'll learn more about each other, slowly. Okay...so they have some time. That's good. 14,000 YEARS? Oh no wonder they don't fear death. They live a ridiculously long time. And yeah Kepler is in for a treat.

And then...he woke up.

But um...where has he woke up? Near the star? But where is the ship?

"Everything is completely under control"

Why...why does Minkowski sound like a robot? I mean, she usually sounds pretty strict before she snaps at Doug for risking his life, but the actress sounds distinctly creepy here, I don't like it.

Creepy music? Hera struggling and begging him to run?

Oh no. Oh no no no no no...Cutter and Pryce came didn't they? Oh no...Oh no...

Oh Cutter, you bastard.

And I don't have time to listen to anymore tonight. Or this weekend, or for a while, gosh DANG IT, BUT THAT WAS SO GOOD.

Well, I hope you guys enjoy this. I have a lot of emotions so I'm gonna post this with no edits and scream about it in a discord chat somewhere. Bye!

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villainessprefect · 2 years

Note

Idia w/ a fem or gn s/o who’s cater’s introverted best friend (and they both share a love for spicy ramen lol) pls?

sorry for the late fic!! this came out shorter than the rest rip but I hope you still enjoy! I am unfortunately not a fan of anything spicy so I struggle here 😔 shout out to those who can handle the burning fires of hell in their mouth cuz I can't-

title: #a quick pic

summary: You and Idia enjoy ramen together, but first you have to send a pic to Cater.

ship: Idia x gn!reader

word count: 725

Read on AO3

Carefully, you hold your phone at just the right angle. Capturing the freshness of this steaming bowl of ramen without fogging your phone's camera proves to be more difficult than you imagined. You don't know how Cater does this without any effort. With a quick snap, he's done! Meanwhile, it feels like it takes you a whole minute to get a decent picture.

But you do. Or at least you think you do. You're still learning about the whole aesthetic about taking pictures from your best friend. Content with your pic, you set your phone down. A sigh from across the table captures your attention.

"I still don't get the point of taking pictures of food," Idia comments. Chopsticks are digging into his own bowl, mixing the broth to ensure the flavor will be in every bite. "It's not like it's any different from the last one we had. The bowls aren't even from a limited time event. It's such a normie thing to do."

"It's for Cater," you answer. Part of you agrees with him, you still didn't quite understand this whole trend. But another part of you is. Having something to look back to, something you can remember even if its just a picture is nice. "This is his favorite food, you know." And coincidentally, yours too.

You take this moment to post the image of your meal on your Magicam account. It's a barren post that lacks any description or hashtags, just a simple image so you wouldn't pop up in the search results. Regardless of your anonymity, a like instantly finds its way to your post within seconds.

"It's just food," Idia huffs. "Though, I guess it is pretty cool since you did make it..."

And he can't complain how they taste ten times better than a regular cup of noodles. This was the ultra rare edition! Not only made with fresh ingredients, but with gentle love and care. Anime always claimed food made by loved ones taste better and he understands why now. He doesn't linger on the thought for too long, but his hair gives him away.

"He's rubbing off on you."

"He is my bestie," you answer with a chuckle. "Don't worry, you're not in the picture if that's what you're worried about."

"I-I'm not!" He pouts before stabbing at his noodles, hitting nothing and resulting in broth jumping up. He decides to shut up and eat his food before anything else can escape him.

You flash him a small smile, watching as he dines on your meal. Unlike you, he opted for a more basic flavor. It lacked the spicy kick you loved, but you understood not everyone could handle the intense flavor. It was almost funny to consider that your boyfriend's hair was literally fire yet couldn't handle the same level of flames for food.

At least he's enjoying your ramen. That's all that matters to you.

Before eating, you decide to make a quick jump into your DMs with Cater. You send him a different picture, a recent one. It still contains the ramen you made, but that's not the focus. Rather, the one this picture captures is Idia. Noodles in perfect unison hang from his lips, captured as he slurps them up. It's cute in your eyes. Getting pictures of him with permission is always a struggle, whether it be you trying to bring it up or getting one where neither of you are flustered.

'Is this a good pic?'

'100%! so authentic u should post that one and tag him

#datenight #bestnoodlesinthehouse'

'you know I cant do that'

'wah!

date pics get you sooo many likes but i totes get it

keep sending me ur cute pics later

enjoy ur datesies bestie!'

"Your food is going to get cold."

"Ah!" The comment drags you out of the conversation with Cater and back to reality. You hadn't forgotten about it, just caught up in the conversation. With that out of the way, you dig into your meal.

It's hot. Both in freshness and flavor. The heat from the bowl fills your senses as you hover over it and the fiery burn from the sauces cover your tongue. The burning sensation leaves you hungry for more. It's a shame you can't share a spicy love with Idia, but at least your bestie could understand it.

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud x reader #gn reader #twst x reader #twst #idia shroud x you #ignihyde #cater diamond #request #anonymous stars

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themaladaptivewriter12 · 23 days

Text

Title: Diamonds Are Forever

Part 8.2 of my “Cray-Cray for Cater” series! Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 , Part 7, and Part 8.1 can be found here!

Parings: Cater Diamond x Twisted Wonderland Male OC (Mirai Yuhara)

Summary:

With an extended break, Cater decides to take Mirai on a trip to remember. This trip should have strengthened their bonds, but somehow they break a little too.

cw: Mostly fluff!! Some flirting in the end.

a/n: Do you dock a plane, or park one? Idk, google said it depends, but dock to me sounds better lolol

a/n: The next part will be a shorter one, a smuttier one ! __φ(◎◎ヘ)

a/n: The Hotel referenced is the Shangri-La Hotel at The Shard in London! Their Suite was the Shangri-La Suite! See ya, Dreamers!

Reblogs are appreciated, just use my custom tag, #TheMaladaptiveWriter12, if you do! (─‿‿─)♡

Cross posted from my Ao3: TheMaladaptiveWriter12

Mirai didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until he was woken up by the turbulence of the plane landing, and Mirai blearily followed their directions until the aircraft was safely on the ground. Once they were docked, Amy and Willow came back to help them get their luggage and escort them off the plane, and Mirai barely remembered any of that.

“Thank you for flying with Broom Airlines! Hope to see you guys again,” Amy said waving as Cater and Mirai exited the First Class lounge.

“TYSM,” Cater waved. “I’ll be sure to leave a good review. #BestFlightEver!”

The walk from the lounge wasn’t long and the whole way there, Mirai tried to keep his eyes open to walk in a straight line.

“Stay here, Ima call a MagiLyft,” Cater said sitting Mirai down on a bench.

“Kay,” Mirai mumbled.

Mirai must’ve dose off again, because he was startled awake by Cater shaking his shoulder. Mirai groaned, opening his eyes.

“I know,” Cater cooed, “Once we get you to the hotel, you can sleep.”

Cater held Mirai’s hand as he rushed him outside. Cars, vans, and trucks drove in and out of the parking lot, their headlights distorted by the pelting freezing rain. Now Mirai was sleepy, cold, wet, and agitated.

“Hurry! In, in,” Cater said hurriedly, ushering Mirai into the back of their MagiLyft. Mirai climbed in and Cater rushed to the other side, hurriedly shoving his bag in the back seat, shutting the door behind him. “Man,” Cater sighed, “I’m soaked.”

“Here,” Mirai mumbled, pulling a napkin from his bag, handing it over to Cater.

“Thanks.”

The ride was an hour, and thirty minutes in, they finally reached the city. It was so big, skyscrapers everywhere, cars all over the streets, people everywhere with umbrellas and raincoats. Mirai loved it. There was so much to do, so much to see, there was so much life. It reminded him of home back in California, it reminded him of New York. It was almost nostalgic, as if he’s been there before, and it made him miss home.

“You like it?” Cater asked, chuckling at how Mirai was practically glued to the window.

“Yeah,” Mirai said, finally more awake than ever. “It reminds me of home.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, but not enough to want to go back forever.”

It looked like there was some traffic, but it wasn’t that bad. Their driver stopped behind a line of cars, and Mirai took the chance to admire the big building next to him. It was huge and the entire thing looked like it was made of glass. There were escalators, and three rotating doors, and in the middle of it all was a sign that read Nirvana.

“Thank sir,” Cater called, getting out of the car, “Have a great night.”

The driver waved to Cater, giving him thanks as well, “Thank you! And you too!”

Mirai was speechless. Cater opened the Mirai’s door and took his hand, leading out of the car, and Mirai just moved on autopilot. This was their hotel? They were actually staying here? Cater led him inside where they had to take an elevator to the 35th floor. The way there, Mirai was in awe. The whole building had a black and gold Eastern inspired design, and Mirai couldn't tell what emotion he felt seeing it all. Once they exited the elevator, they were right in the middle of the lobby of the Nirvana Hotel. It was breathtaking. The seating area next to the floor to ceiling windows looked so elegant, and down right classy.

Just like downstairs, the lobby continued with the white, black and gold theme. The receptionist desk was made of pure marble, and even the floors were marble. On the far wall was a traditional ink brushed mural that Mirai couldn’t get enough of, and all the little accents around the room were what Mirai would call European and Asian inspired. The warm gold lighting was inviting, comforting, casting the room in a hazy golden glow. There was even a roaring fireplace in the corner where a couple of chatting patrons sat around it.

Mirai walked over to the railing where he spotted another seating area and more so much more. The blonde couldn’t believe he was standing in the middle of it all. Mirai practically gravitated to the windows where he looked down at the city below. It was breathtaking, it really was. Mirai fished out his camera and started taking pictures of anything it would pick up. The lighting, the art, the chairs, the view, everything.

Mirai turned around and Cater was standing behind him, his own phone poised, taking a picture of Mirai.

“Oh yeah, that’s totes going on my Magicam,” Cater said looking at the picture. “Who knew my super cute boyfriend was so Magicamable?”

Mirai pouted, and took a picture of Cater in return.

“So, you ready to head up, or do you wanna take more pictures?” Cater asked, flashing their little pamphlet that held their key cards.

“I’m ready to go up,” Mirai answered.

Cater led them to the elevator where they rode it to the thirty ninth floor. The hall was dimly lit with wooden walls and blue carpets. The couple didn’t even have to walk far since their room was the first on the floor, room 3901. Mirai read the plaque next to the door. It read “The Nirvana Suite.” Cater pulled out his keycard and pressed it against the scanner, it gave a chime and flashed green, the deadbolt throwing, and Cater opened the door, letting Mirai in first. Mirai searched for the light switch, finding a couple of buttons, Mirai pushed one and the entire room lit up, and Mirai was instantly floored. Mirai made a sound akin to a dying cat and Cater cackled.

“This is not our room,” Mirai breathed, flabbergasted, “There’s no way this is our room.”

“It is,” Cater laughed.

“I can’t, we can’t, how can-” Mirai couldn’t get his words or thoughts together and felt like he needed to sit down.

“Whoa there, calm down, Babe. It’s okay. My dad’s paying for all of it.”

“That’s worse,” Mirai shouted.

“He insisted. It’s fine, really.”

Mirai couldn’t get his words together, he couldn’t get his thoughts together, he felt as if his brain was melting from his ears. He felt like he didn’t deserve any of this, that he wasn’t worthy of this. He felt just being there would somehow contaminate everything.

“Do, do you really not like any of this?” Cater asked, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“N-No, no.” Mirai sighed. “I love it. It’s so nice, but I feel like I’m not worth all of this. I just want to repay you somehow.”

“You don’t have to, Baby, this isn’t supposed to be transactional. Just you being here with me is enough. But maybe I did come on a little too strong with all of this? The First Class plane ride, now the five star luxury suite? Kinda feels like I’m throwing my money in your face, doesn’t it? Talk about #Showoff moment.”

“You're fine. It’s a bit much for me, but I like it. I’m glad that I, of all people, could do something like this.”

“So you’re not put off by all of this?”

“It’s just a lot to take in, to, ya’know, take in I guess. Like yes, this is happening, like yeah, I’m here.”

“Kay,” Cater said, relieved.

“So,” Mirai asked after a moment of silence, “Is this the norm for you, like y'know, at home?”

“Y-Yeah. I don’t like to flaunt it, and I definitely don’t want anyone to know,” Cater said awkwardly, “But I wanted to spoil you, I wanted you to know this was part of me, but even with all of that, I’m still me.”

“And I’d love you no less.”

Mirai and Cater toured their room, it was huge and beautifully decorated, it was like a mini apartment, and one feature Mirai couldn’t ignore was the fact that the whole room had floor to ceiling windows, the room was practically made of glass. You could see so much of the city through them. Near the door was a small bathroom and a huge closet. It was beautifully made, the whole thing was made out of dark solid wood and the outside had a traditional Eastern artwork etched into it.

To the right was the dining area, the table seated ten, and a large crystal chandelier hung overhead. Past the dining table was a mirror that covered the entire wall, and etched into it was yet another mural. Mirai and Cater walked past the dining area into a small hallway, where they found a kitchen, the entire thing was fully functioning with an electric stove, a dishwasher, sink, refrigerator, and wine cooler. It even had a coffee machine equipped with luxury coffee pods. They exited the kitchen, looping back to the main room where they entered the living area to the left of the dining area.

It was so spacious and open. There were two love seats, two couches, an armchair, and in the middle of it all was a dark wood coffee table. Against one of the walls was a desk that was also a lounge chair that ran against one of the large windows where you could relax and take in the beautiful view. They even had binoculars and a telescope to see the city below better. In the next room was a private office equipped with its own tv behind two sliding doors and its own entrance to the bedroom.

“OMG! This is nice! Talk about #Luxury,” Cater gushed, taking even more pictures.

Mirai agreed with him. The bedroom had to be Mirai’s favorite room. The bedroom, just like the main room, had the floor to ceiling windows. It was on the smaller side, compared to the large layout of the room, but it was still bigger than average. The bed was a super king, the comforter a beautiful white and champagne. The headboard was beautifully decorated with little flowers sewn into the fabric. In front of the bed was a loveseat where you could sit and watch the tv that was behind two sliding doors. Next to the window was another lounge chair where you could look at the city views.

Mirai ran his hand along the bedspread as he walked by, it was so soft and plush. He doubted he would want to get up tomorrow morning.

“Babe! Look at this closest,” Cater called from the other side of the room.

Mirai entered a small hallway where he found Cater standing in a walk-in closet, posing for selfies. It was big, like, really big, even with the two of them standing in there together, there was still more than enough room to fit their bags, and the space for hanging clothes was more than enough for the two of them. Mirai wondered how many outfits would be needed to fill the entire thing.

“Oh yeah, when I graduate, I’m totally getting my closet built like this,” Cater said excitedly.

Mirai chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“Let’s check out the bathroom.”

The bathroom was amazing. There was a Jacuzzi tub on the far wall, a double vanity with built-in lighting and tv, and a small selection of fancy soaps.

“Where’s the toilet?” Mirai muttered.

“Maybe behind these doors?” Cater asked, pulling them open.

Behind one of two frosted glass doors was a huge shower with built-in seating, and behind the other was the toilet. It was nice. It gave whoever was using the toilet privacy just in case someone else needed the bathroom.

“This could fit like eight people in here,” Mirai said thoughtfully, looking at the shower.

“Oh? Does Mi-Mi wanna throw a shower party?” Cater teased. “So naughty.”

“W-What?! N-No I-”

“How about seven of me?”

Mirai’s words died on his lips, face flushing bright red as Cater crowded him, pulling him into his arms. Mirai was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing. Mirai couldn’t get his words out, but the very image in his head had Mirai all hot from the inside out.

“Oh? Thinking dirty things?” Cater teased.

“N-No, I, it-it’s your fault for planting that image in my head,” Mirai stammered.

Cater chuckled, pulling Mirai close, “Hm? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Cater teased, “Me, you, and six other mes, under all that hot water and steam?”

“Y-Yes,” Mirai shuddered as Cater ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.

“Eh? For realsies?” Cater asked, flushing this time. “I was more teasing than I was serious.”

“You dug your grave, now you gotta lie in it,” Mirai smirked.

“You sure it wasn't you who dug their own grave?”

“Hm? I don’t know. I guess we’re gonna have to see and find out, won’t we?”

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the-haunted-office · 2 months

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TAG GAME — BASICS

Answered for: Classic Stanley!

▸ is your muse tall / short / ㅤaverage ?

Average - 5 ft 9 in

▸ are they okay with their height ?

Stanley has never really thought much about his height. If someone were to point it out to him, he'd shrug. The only reason he might consider it would be if he were standing next to someone considerably shorter or considerably taller than himself, and only then he'd feel considerably taller or considerably shorter than that person. Other than that, it doesn't occur to him to think about it.

▸ what’s their hair like ?

Stanley's hair is short, a couple of inches long, dark brown, soft, and unremarkable otherwise. If he were to grow it out, it would become wavy and have a slight curl at the end. However, he does prefer to keep it cut short, above the ears.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair / grooming ?ㅤ

No. A simple wash and a simple combing is all it takes to keep it in line. As stated above, he does keep it regularly trimmed, but that's about it.

▸ does your muse care about their appearance / what others think ?

Stanley hardly notices. He showers daily, practices good hygiene, cleans his laundry on the regular, and keeps his clothing in good repair while replacing it whenever necessary, but outside of that, he typically doesn't do much to dress up and attract the attention of others. He'll occasionally dress nicely to attend company events, although those are rare and far between, and that is about the extent of how far he cares about what others think. It just doesn't occur to him that others might care about his appearance outside of business casual and a good daily shower, combed hair, and brushed teeth.

— preferences.

▸ indoors or outdoors ? rain or sunshine ?ㅤ forest or beach ? precious metals or gems? flowers or perfumes? personality or appearance ? being alone or being in a crowd? order or anarchy ? painful truths or white lies ? (Stanley can't handle either!) science or magic ? peace or conflict ? night or day ? dusk or dawn ? warmth or cold ? many acquaintances or a few close friends ? reading or playing a game ?

— questionnaire. ▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits ?

Indecision. Stanley has a terribly difficult time with making decisions, especially when they are thrown on him on the spot and with a time limit involved. When put under pressure, he has a tendency to seize up and make no decisions instead of choosing one over the other. Putting him in a situation like this is likely to lead to him shutting down and back off entirely, leading to a standstill.

Doormat. Stanley has a tendency to let people walk all over him. This sort of goes hand in hand with his difficulty at making decisions. Because he has trouble deciding things a lot of the time, this means he often depends on others to choose for him, which can very easily put him in the position of others telling him what to do all the time, which can then in turn put him into abusive situations where others may simply treat him as a doormat. It might even be hard for him to stand up for himself in the end.

Desensitized to violence. This is a result of being in the Office and the nature of how it operates. Because of all the restarts and the fact that he can die and come back whole, Stanley isn't much afraid of death and injury anymore. This means that others threatening his life and being approached by situations and beings that might be harmful to him doesn't affect him the way it should anymore. Who knows when there might come a time that he suddenly breaks out of the Parable and he's suddenly not immortal anymore?

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them ? how has it affected them ?

It's possible that he has, but... Stanley can't remember. He can't remember anything from before the Parable. He can't remember if he actually had a life before being in the Office, actually. Was he a real person before the Office? Is the Office the only life he's ever had? Was he... created for the sole purpose of being in the Office? A simple character for existing in the Office, only to exist in the Narrator's story? He hasn't figured that part out yet. But he suspects that should he figure that out, he might get his answer - and he isn't sure if he wants it.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has ? ㅤ

Since Stanley's only memories are of being in the Office, one of his fondest memories honestly is of the Ending where he and the Narrator found the Adventure Line™ and worked together for once. Sure, that Ending was disastrous and it ended up with the Narrator realizing he was just as stuck in everything as Stanley, but at least they were in the same boat for once. At least the Narrator was taken down a notch and they were almost... friends. Stanley didn't really feel alone and he felt sort of happy. He liked that Ending. And he liked that Line™ too. He visits that Ending a lot.

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill ? ㅤ

Stanley doesn't like to kill. It never dawned on him to kill anybody before the Parable. The only reason he'd ever consider it now is if it might win him his freedom. But... he still doesn't know if he could do it. He doesn't know if his life is worth that, especially not knowing whether or not his life is even real.

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down ?ㅤ

Panic. Complete and utter panic. Hands on the side of his head, hyperventilating, blurred vision, incoherent thoughts and motions, running away, trying to get away from whatever is making him panic, trying to hide, usually trying to get to the broom closet because he knows that is the only room where the Narrator cannot see him. The Narrator knows he's in there, yes, but he can't see him in there. He just wants to get away and not be seen.

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life ? ㅤ

He does all the time. Sometimes he has no choice. Sometimes it's the wrong choice even though he has no choice. Sometimes he pays the price for having no choice. His life feels pretty cheap these days.

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love ?ㅤ

Stanley wouldn't know. He's never been in love before. At least, he doesn't think he has.

//Tagged by @alabonshay (Thank you!!)

Tagging: Anybody who sees this and who wants to do it! I can never think of who to tag. x_x

#classic stanley #headcanons #thank you for the tag! :3

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druidx · 4 months

Text

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 21

CW: Injury, blood AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

The Kass-whatever-the-hell-it-was-called has apparently not given chase. There's no crashing in the undergrowth but her. It's odd, she thinks; she feels certain that it could have hunted her down if it wanted to… But then she is stumbling out of the bushes and crawling through a hole in the chicken-wire fence and onto a brick-laid alley at the back of City Hall. And, gods above, she wants to stop and take a breather, but the other fairytale creature is jostling her upright with cajoling words about not dying in the gutter like a rat. It feels like it takes ages for the creature's words to seep through the pain and reach some survivalist part of her mind, and anyway, she's distracted by the thing. It has dark brown skin like hers, but some kind of condition makes it appear in whorls and ridges that seem familiar but she can't place it right now. It has mottled green hair and is dressed in a short green tunic of soft-looking cloth, clinched at the waist by a wide leather belt. "What are you?" she asks it. 🙢Alas, there is not the time to explain,🙡 it says, as it shoves her to her feet. "Do you have a name?" 🙢Willowsprout, Atnešė,🙡 it says. Legnok slings her arm over its shoulders and hauls her upright. Between the two of them, they drag her towards the corner of the alley, to where the light from City Hall spills onto the crowd milling in quiet panic, surrounded by cop cars and blood wagons. «Youse think you can make it on your own from here?» Legnok says. «Only, we's gotta skedaddle now.» 🙢Apologies, you'll have to manage from here,🙡 says Willowsprout. 🙢We can't let the twicelings see us.🙡 "Yeah," Elo says. "Sure. I'll manage." The two creatures melt into the shadows. «Remember your promise!» says Legnok. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbles. "I see either of you again, I'll buy you more than a cup of joe. A beer for each. Blood, bark, bond, et cetera."

And then she is stumbling into the edge of the crowd, and someone cries out at the sight of her. "Sergeant O'Toreguarde," she says, with a hiccup. "Checking in."

She sways on her feet, and someone is calling for a medic and someone else is practically carrying her to a bench and someone is trying to ask her what the hell happened to her. "Sniper," she says, because even in her own head that is more sensible than a giant man made of shadow with an incomprehensible name wielding a massive sword made of ice. "Got away," she adds, because otherwise people might start assuming she got whoever fired those shots and demand to see a corpse because no one in their right mind would let a sniper get away with shooting into a crowd of the most highly decorated and influential people in her city without some retribution. And then the crowd of people milling around her is swiftly moving to the side and she thinks she's seeing triple, because there are three large, angry-looking gentlemen bearing down on her – though when Strucker got here, and why Clayrmantle is shorter she doesn't understand – and they are all talking over each other in their morbid excitement and she cannot think and they are so loud and for all their loudness she cannot hear what they are saying and "SHUT! UP!" There is almost instant silence, and it ripples out from her in a wave as everyone in the whole damn plaza is suddenly very quiet. "You three– Just hush for a moment," she tells them. "I can't answer your ninety-mile-an-hour questions if you keep jabbering over each other. You're supposed to be rulers, not over-excited puppies, now bloody act like it and shut up so I can speak." She pulls in a breath, winces at the pain in her side, and lets it out again. "I'm fine. Well. I'm not fine. I've been cut. He had a sword. But I'm mostly fine. Despite the fact I'm wearing a stupid, nonsensical, now ruined, dress, I'm mostly fine. I went back to help with evac, lost my footing and fell off the terrace. Which is stupid, I know, but I nearly ate a bullet, and it saved my life, so, there's that. But I interrupted the sniper fleeing, and he didn't like that, so we had a bit of a tussle, and he stabbed me, and got away. I'm sorry, I screwed up, I should have waited for backup, I wasn't thinking. But I'm here and I'm still alive and fine. Mostly." She stops, thinks for a moment. "Could someone get me a very large glass of rum?" And then, despite her hurts, somehow she is being embraced by all three of them. She squeals as the pain in her side shoots through her again. "Alright, get away from her you feckless beasties," Merri is saying, and physically pulls Strucker away followed by Clayrmantle. She is a little more deferential to her king, but not by much, tapping him heavily on the shoulder and ordering him away a second time.

Then Merri is knelt next to the bench, a med kit out and something cold and alcoholic and oh dear fuck that burns, and Elo thought they were friends is being swiped over the rent in her flesh. She grits her teeth, eyes screwed tight, and yells as Merri repeats the activity, the cold stinging swipe getting less with each pass. Then something warm and dry is being pressed to the wound. "Andersen! Check if one of those ambulances is free, aye? Strucker, put pressure on this," Merri demands, as the medic wraps a bandage around Elo's waist, holding the dressing in place. Elo keeps her eyes closed – she cannot look, but this has happened enough times to either herself or one of their teammates in the Special Forces that she doesn't need to look, she knows exactly the procedure that Merri is following. When Merri sits back and puts a tired hand on Elo's knee, Elo takes a breath and marvels at her friend's quick work. "You need to go to hospital, cridhe," Merri says, accent thickening in worry. "This is just a patch-job, you understand? It needs stitches and a proper clean." Johan plucks a leaf out of Elo's hair. "All of her needs a proper clean." And Elo's best friend in the whole world squints up at her, a snarky grin on her face, and says, "We could dip her in a canal. Quickest and easiest way to get all that muck off her, eh?" Elo tries to snort a laugh but the action sends sparks of pain through her. "Easy, easy," Merri cautions, even as she's grinning unrepentantly. She runs her hands over Elo's frame. "Mer!" Elo says, mock scandalised. "Your betrothed is around here somewhere." Even if her tone is teasing, Elo can't quite fight down the flush in her cheeks. "Oh, shush. I'm checking you for more wounds. What's this?" Merri's hand has come away tacky from Elo's arm. "I dunno." Then Elo remembers. "I got bit by something?" Merri is back with that cold and stinging alcohol, swabbing the area. Then she gasps and swears in Icelandic. "You got bit by a fucking bullet. Thor's balls, you're lucky."

"What about everyone else?" Elo manages, after Merri has finished dealing with the scrape left by the bullet that nearly killed the King. She hasn't seen Yoruk or the Exchequer; while she's more worried about Yoruk, she has to at least pretend to be concerned about one of the Triumvirate. The light is hazy and too bright, she's inches away from falling asleep right on the bench, but she still has to know. "Your Acting Magister there, he caught a shot to the leg, but the bullet didn't do much damage. There were a few lacerations from falling glass, bruises and sprains from people fleeing and fighting each other in their haste, but aside from that, no. You're the only one who's taken any bad damage." "Good," is all Elo can think to say. "And when you're more lucid," Merri's voice drops to a dangerous growl, "you are going to get a refresher on how one performs close personal protection, and the correct procedures to follow during a sniper shooting." Elo giggles. She can't help herself. The titter comes out before she can stop it, and this time it won't be tamped down. "I knew this would happen," Elo says, gasping her laughter. "Y'all're gonna have to take a number." Merri gives her a confused glare. "Make an appointment, y'know?" "Appointments– What?" "So y'all get your chance to yell at me. Gotta have a booking slot, make it nice and orderly." Elo cackles again, clears her throat and tries to sound serious. "It'll have to be first come first serve, I won't make preference for rank or title." The pretence doesn't last long as she dissolves into hiccuping giggles. Merri stares, frowning, mouth agape. Then her eyes squeeze shut and she gives an incredulous shake of the head, following it up by yelling, "Anderssen! Where the fuck is my ambulance?" Elo's eyes snap open. "What, no, I'm not going–" "The fuck you're not. Did you not hear me? You need more than field medicine." "–I'm on duty." Storri turns sharply. "You're relieved, Sargent." "But–" Johan crouches down in front of her, gently touches her cheek until she's staring into those cloudy blue depths. "You're going to the hospital. No ifs, buts, or maybes. I will sling you over my shoulder if I have to, but you are going." Merri, she notices, has courageously abandoned her to being bullied by these leaders of, of – men, dwarves and elves – people. People! Just people, nothing else. Bloody fairy stories. "Elo, are you listening to me? I have lost one daughter this week to some greater cosmic accident and I will not lose another through stubbornness and thick-headedness. Do I make myself clear, young lady? I have lost my Evelyn. I will not lose my Elowyn too." And that's it. Elo's eyes mist up and the tears start dripping down her face and Johan's arms are around her as she quietly sobs into his shoulder.

#oc elowyn o'toreguarde #npc johan strucker #pc meredith gruksdottir #writing #HCWL Chapters only #WIP 'Her Countenance was Light'#titan fighting fantasy #fighting fantasy #ttrpg fanfiction #wandering words

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s-che · 2 months

Note

for the tarot rpg ask game! The Fool, The Empress, The Hierophant, The Chariot, The Hanged Man, The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Sun

This is so many questions!! I am gonna have to go a little shorter for each of them, but thank you for your interests lmao.

from the RPG Designer tarot ask game

The Fool – What do the earliest stages of work on a game look like for you? OR How did you get into game design?

Games start one of two ways for me: either I think "there should be a game that feels like X" or I think "I want to write about Y and I think for one reason or another a game is a place to do it." That second option is usually just the first option wearing sunglasses, anyway — since the main reason I might write something as a game (rather than a poem, short story, etc) is to try and get that experiential edge, where I'm not just conveying what I'm thinking to you but you the reader/player can dig around in it (and see why I feel a way about something). Then I start writing. Usually pretty freeform. Lots of lists of things. Lots of stream of consciousness "I want it to do this so therefore it must include that" until I start to get a better picture of what the game is going to be.

The Empress — Where do your ideas come from? OR Do you seek out or avoid inspiration while working on an idea?

I love nothing more than to dig into an inspiration while I'm working on a project. I like to surround myself with as much aligned stimuli as I can — recently I've been reading Piranesi and Doug Cowan's Cyberhenge and Drawing Down the Moon and listening to a lot of wizard themed hyperpop, for example. You can guess where I might be going with that. Let me drown in the thing I am thinking about, please.

And then credit my inspirations, of course.

The Hierophant — Who is a fellow game designer you’ve learned a lot from? OR What is a piece of popular wisdom about games you think is nonsense?

This is straying a little bit from the prompt, but: I fucking hate it when people try to frame the TTRPG design world as a family / community / whatever. Shut the fuck up. At TTRPGs best they're a scene and at the worst they're an (unregulated and monopolized) industry. I have communities and families within that, but they're not people I'm going to reach with a tag.

The Chariot — What is the next project you’re planning to start OR What is the next project you’re excited to finish?

I mentioned this in another response, but. I've been thinking a lot about wizards lately. Alchemists. Notetaking. Esoterica. A lot of this is: it's summer and I'm not getting my grad school itch scratched, but I've got something new that I just need to polish up a bit... A game I think y'all sickos would enjoy.

Also a Lemony Snicket thing, but that's another story.

The Hanged Man — What other creative pursuits do you have? OR What current trends in game design are you most interested in?

I think we're due for another hackable and misunderstandable system pretty soon, a la PBTA or BITD or NDNM or whatever. Feels like the cutting edge of design has moved on from those things — while still keeping their lessons in mind — and we just need something to blow up in the right way that we end up coining a new term for it. I can feel it coming, I'm just not sure where.

Oh, and One D&D launch is gonna be a mess. The post-CR D&D boom hasn't had to live through an edition change yet. No idea what that's gonna look like, but I can't wait.

The Devil — What motifs or mechanics do you just keep coming back to? OR What is a game you’ve enjoyed playing in the last year?

I played some Wizard's Grimoire (issue 1, but all of them look cool as shit) with a friend recently. Good game for laying on a couch and daydreaming magic boys.

The Tower — Talk about about a game you tried to make that crashed and burned.

When I was maybe a freshman in college — in fact I can remember working on it in 2017 — I wanted to write a PBTA game about paladins of different creeds slamming into each other. It sucked. I didn't know how to write games yet and it came out looking like worse Dungeon World. I'm glad it doesn't exist anywhere.

Don't write worse Dungeon World, folks.

The Star — Talk about a game you’re working on and what excites you about it.

I've been tinkering with some ideas for a multiple-player one-character Disco Elysium-ish game about plurality and inner dialogues. It's fun to roll around in my head! Not sure if I'll ever end up making it, but thinking about ways to mechanize squabbling for authorial control — i.e. to let you play as several people fighting to front — has been a lot of fun.

The Sun — Talk about a game you’ve made that you’re proud of.

Book of 13 Hours. I did some spells with a friend recently and love them. And I talked to the lake I've been stay next to for the last week or so. Good game. Good magic.

#ask game #ask #takataapui #witchcraft #book of 13 hours #wizard's grimoire #ttrpg design #rpg design #game design

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