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sunoorintarou · 2 years ago

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Catharsis: Houseki no Kuni x JJK

Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 (parts not in chronological order)

Christmas Special: 1 2 (plot divergent)

Gojo Satoru (platonic) x Phosphophyllite!Reader

Warnings: ooc Gojo, complex emotions, reader goes from happy to depressed to a monster, very angsty, there's an oc named Yuzuru Yukio who takes the place of Antarcticite because I couldn't bear to kill off anyone, death and depression, suicidal thoughts, gore

Notes: I haven't posted in a while and recently watched Houseki No Kuni and fell in love with Phos, so I decided to write a lil smth. This isn't very detailed and is more of a drabble than anything. I also really wanted to highlight Gojo's weaknesses and the inability to stop change in this, so he's very ooc, but yeah, hope y'all enjoy <3

They say history repeats itself, and once again, Gojo Satoru found himself unable to protect what really mattered to him. He was not the strongest. And never would be if he could never protect those closest to him.

It was like clockwork. He remembered when he first met you. You were a girl with a cursed technique never seen before. You had the ability to turn curses into gemstones. You could also absorb them (the beginnings of those together at the end are always similar), but not only that, your body was a storage unit for them, crystallising them and making them part of you, existing as precious gems that sprouted on and under your skin.

You were a precious commodity. Even though you had only molded with a singular curse, the one that had killed your parents. You had absorbed it into you on accident, materialising as the teal in your crystalline eyes and hair.

You were then taken to Jujutsu Tech. You had nowhere else to go. And now that you had absorbed your first curse, you became a beacon for others, your very existence attracting them.

It was fate when you were assigned to Gojo's team. The higher - ups choosing him on the basis that he had "experience" with cursed techniques similar to yours.

Gojo watched you from the beginning. Your bright eyes and clumsy personality something he hadn't seen in a while. You struggled in battle, tripping over your feet and freezing up. You weren't good at healing. You weren't good at admin. Any task you were assigned, you managed to royally mess up. You couldn't even use your cursed technique. You were borderline useless, good for only cheering up the team.

It had gotten to the point where you wouldn't even go on missions, sitting in your room and wondering what you had to do to become better. Gojo never let you be alone. He had learnt better.

Things took a turn for the worse during your first encounter with a cursed spirit that had eaten one of Sukuna's fingers. It was smart, and they figured it had been following you on your daily path from the school to the convenience store nearby. Waiting for the perfect chance to attack you.

Gojo blamed himself. He had been sent on a mission. By the time he arrived, everyone was in a panic, his team having long left to look for you after realising you were missing. By then, it was already too late.

When they found you, the curse had already shattered your legs. A scene no child deserved to see. An event no child deserved to experience. You were in a puddle of blood against the wall of an alley. Your legs had clean broken off, revealing teal crystal in place of bones and muscle, tinted purple from mixing with your blood. It was like breaking open a geode. Nothing flesh lied under your skin, only crystal. It was almost beautiful.

The curse was feasting on the shards of your legs, and by the time Gojo arrived with the group, he could only watch as you finally gained the strength to activate your cursed technique. You touched the curse, watching as its flesh crystallised into agate and quartz.

You then caught sight of your team and your teacher, a broken smile on your face.

"S- Sensei- look, I did it." You tilted your head. Gojo walked toward you wordlessly, his strong hand never so gentle, finding your head as he ruffled your hair.

"You did. I'm proud of you." Gojo's hands found your waist, picking you up as you went limp over his shoulder.

When you were brought back to Shouko, there was little she could do. They brought the crystallised curse with, now just a chunk of agate and quartz. To save your legs, they had to crack it open, having to use the pieces of your legs that were now mixed in with the agate and attach them to your body, hoping your body wouldn't reject them.

You slept for a long time. 3 weeks, to be exact. And when you finally woke up, Gojo couldn't help but begin to despise himself for not being able to protect you.

Where Gojo saw regret, you saw your legs as a positive, however. They were faster and stronger than your previous legs, allowing you to use them in combat, quickly excelling. You were beyond excited when you were deemed strong enough to go on patrol, and Gojo guided you the best he could.

He assigned a 3rd year, a strict, by the books, yet equally as lonely boy named Yuzuru Yukio. And he watched you. He watched as Yukio guided you, teaching you everything he knew. And as the days passed, he felt as if you were going to be OK.

Things were looking up for you. Everyone was praising your newfound talent in an attempt to cheer you up, but what Gojo hadn't realised was that the seed of doubt had already been planted far before he could stop it.

It had started in a casual conversation with Maki while she was attempting to help you train. You had explained your situation to her, eagerly listening to her advice, but one thing stuck. "Change." You knew she hadn't meant it the way you had taken it. She simply meant that you should change your thoughts and strengthen your resolve. But the words played on your long-held insecurities, and you began to feel like you yourself were the problem.

This feeling only increased when everyone complimented how strong your new legs were. Not cracking as easily as your old ones, much faster and more agile. And you only sunk deeper when you had dropped a crate of training swords, and Panda had jokingly claimed that it would be nice if your arms were as good as your legs.

Not even Gojo could sense the darkness that grew in your heart. The nights you spent despising your reflection, wondering if it would be better if every single part of you was replaced.

These insecurities manifested when you encountered a curse on patrol with Yukio. You watched as Yukio fought the gooey green mass of eyeballs, staying back as you still weren't all that skilled. In a moment of hesitance, Yukio had been caught off guard and was flung into a building, leaving you alone with the curse.

"I can eat them for you." The curse smiled, feeding off your insecurities.

"Your arms are so weak. Wouldn't you want a better pair?" The voice was deep and comforting, almost caring, almost worried. You found yourself reaching out to the curse.

When you found clarity not even a second later, it was too late. Your arms were gone.

It was repetition. The way you were rushed to Shouko, Yukio holding your limp form against him, the curse long gone.

This time wasn't as simple. They had nothing to replace it with and, no choice but to send you out to find a curse you could crstalise and use as a prosthetic.

Maki and Toge went with you and Yukio. Gojo once again being barrelled with missions.

What should have been a simple search for a weak curse turned sour. The curse they had found had turned into gold when you touched it.

The alloy was heavy, weighing you down and liquidising, trapping you in a prison of gold. Toge and Maki were forced to retreat by Yukio, forced to contact Gojo as you were being drowned in an ocean of gold.

Yukio tried to break through the prison the gold had formed. A large gold block with a few holes for air. He swore he would get you out, and as his focus remained on you, he failed to notice the curse behind him.

His guts were ripped clean out, body hitting the floor before either of you could react.

And you couldn't do anything. The gold refused to listen to you as you tried to do something, anything, to get revenge, to see if there was anything you could possibly do to somehow change the situation. But it was all in vein.

When Gojo found you, you were covered in blood, on your knees, Yukio's limp body in your arms as you cried. There were pieces of various precious gems and minerals everywhere. He rushed to you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Sensei- I- I wasn't strong enough- to- to protect me- he-" In place of tears, ichor ran down your cheeks.

It was then that Gojo watched the beginning of your downfall. You spiraled, cutting your hair, the light in your eyes dying as you committed yourself to fighting curses nonstop. Gojo watched you break yourself apart, skin cracking into pieces only to be filled with gold and repaired again and again.

Nothing anyone said could stop you, not even when your team returned from their mission and were met with you, the new you. You just weren't the same. No longer as happy and joyous, becoming more awkward, quieter. You rarely slept. Sleeping only when Shouko drugged you enough to keep you asleep.

You bathed yourself in the blood of curses, an act of revenge, and strength enabling you to speak to Yukio with a clean heart. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Yukio dying. Over and over again. It was excruciating. It suffocated you.

The life draining out of your bodies and eyes, but no matter what you did, you just wouldn't die.

Gojo stayed by your side as much as he could during those times. Avoiding missions and watching over you. The only time you were ever out of his site was when you went to the bathroom, and when you visited Yukio's grave.

No one left you alone. But perhaps that worked out for the worse. The comforting words only reminded you of your weakness.

It was like Deja Vu. When the light finally returned to your eyes, it was too late.

"Hey, Sensei." You greeted from across the road as if nothing ever happened. There was a barrier no one could cross between you. It was in the early morning, the bustle of the traffic and people almost sickening to Gojo.

"Y/n. What is this?" Gojo asked, at a loss for words. He had let you out of his site for 10 minutes, letting you sit at Yukio's grave in peace, and when he returned, you were gone. That was days ago. Yet by some miracle, he had caught sight of you in the crowd in passing.

"I want to thank you. For everything. You always said I'd find a purpose, something only I could do, and I think I found it. I'm sad things didn't work out with you guys at Jujutsu Tech, though. Tell everyone that I'm sorry, OK?" You said, thoughtfully, eyes widening as another thought came to mind.

"Ah, another thing, 'Sorry for stealing your student Satoru, I just don't think she's cut out to follow the path you're on', something like that, he said to tell you."

At those words, Gojo Satoru was 17 again, watching his best friend leave, unable to do anything about it.

"Y/n!" He screamed as you turned around, ready to rush after you, but the voices of his other students behind him stopped him.

"Bye, bye. See you in Shibuya." You smiled. One last time before you disappeared into the crowd.

History always repeated itself in the cruelest ways. And once again, it was proved to Gojo Satoru that he could never be the strongest.

#catharsis #gojo satoru x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader #houseki no kuni #phos!reader #hnk x reader #land of the lustrous #jjk x hnk crossover #platonic gojo satoru

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jay-justjay · 8 months ago

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Hey uh, I made a fanfic

So guess what! AO3 is down... so I just decided to post the damn prologue here for now. It'll be changed to an AO3 link at some point.

uhhhh TW: Nightmare being horrible, mentions of physical abuse. Mention of assassination attempts, mafia stuff. I don't really know how to tag trigger warnings...

Au Details: Basically the world in its entirety is underground due to non-stop, heavy rain on the surface. The world below has become various caves full of neon cities, where glow-in-the-dark clothing is a way of life.

Title: Blasters and Bastards

Enjoy! Im not that great of a writer so don't expect much :p

“You’ve failed me once again Killer.” Nightmare growled under his breath, a glowing eye narrowing through the darkness. “Care to explain your error?”

Killer was kneeling in front of their boss, the cyan details of their clothing illuminating their figure through the unlit office. Killer had a moment of silence before speaking, their head raising to face Nightmare. “We got caught before the target was properly dead. They managed to call for the police just in time, leading to Murder’s arrest.” Killer pauses, recounting events in their head. “We were careless on entry. Apologies, sir.”

A tendril would slither through the shadows, nearing Killer enough for the glossy goop to reflect off the cyan light. “‘Sorry’ Isn’t good enough, Killer. This isn’t your first failure after all. To think this is how you repay me after I saved you all those years ago…” Nightmare cooed, his chair squeaking under his dramatized movements. “Times are tough these days, I’m sure you’re aware… Was a single assassination too much to ask? Need I abandon you like your little ‘friends’ did?”

Killer’s eye twitched, the normally unchanging grin widening unnaturally. “No need sir. I.. promise this’ll be the last time.” Their voice was quick, a tang of worry mixed into it. They fought the temptation to stand in their own defense… but they knew that’d be idiotic. To Nightmare, that’d be a great disrespect, for who is a dog to stand in the face of his master?

“Such is what you’ve said the past few times you disgraced me. My patience is running thin with you, Killer. My ‘Brother’ is plotting something and every second wasted is a second HE gains.” Nightmare arose from his chair, starting to walk over to Killer. The tendrils sprouting from his back continued to snake around Killer, up their body and towards their chest. There, a target soul would glow, the slightest touch causing a knee-jerk reaction in Killer. “Perhaps you’d rather do without the solution I’ve so graciously given you for your emotions?”

“I… One more chance. Just, one more chance, that’s all I want.” Killer requested, “Whatever ya need me ta do.” Killer silently hoped that Nightmare would grace them with enough generosity for one more chance. They've been able to get out mostly unscathed time and time again… maybe a gash or two on their back, but with their abilities that never mattered in the end. The question is, will they be so lucky this time around…?

“Very well” Nightmare responds, continuing to pace around Killer like a bird of prey stalking a helpless little rabbit. “You can start by righting your wrongs. Find the prison where Murder is being kept, and free him. Hopefully you can do something right for once.”

“Consider it done, sir.”

“Good, you may rise.”

Killer stood, thankful to be out of the lower tendril’s reach. Nightmare would retreat back to his chair, sitting down and turning it to face Killer once more. “Go, don’t waste a second more tarnishing me with your presence.” Nightmare commanded, Killer promptly leaving the office.

Two figures would be standing outside the door. Both roughly of equal height, though one was a smidge taller. The taller one had a gaping, sharp hole in his skull. While the more average-sized one was dressed similarly to the average mafia anime character, well, aside from the monochrome, that is.

“How’d it go?” The anime one, also known as Cross, asked. Two well-kept swords were holstered at his waist, he was a fan of more old-fashioned combat.

“We’re breaking Murder outta jail.” Killer informs, their tone was blunt, emotionless as their soul worked to numb the feeling of fear from earlier. They avoided eye contact with the other two.

“Isss… that it? Nothing else? Is Boss mad or anything-” Cross questioned, before Horror, the one with the hole, placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Shut up.” Stated Horror, he meant no real offense by this… it’s just how he talks. Thankfully, Cross listened. Horror was usually there to help Cross know when to stop talking.

Even then, Cross always found Killer hard to read, even through years of experience with the guy, he struggled to pick up on the smaller details in Killer’s behavior.

Killer didn’t respond to Cross’ statement, their eye twitching again. She didn’t like when people pried past what they needed to know. “We’re prolly sleepin’ in a hotel er somethin’ tonight. Just so we don’t haveta rendezvous and hence, waste time. I’ll start lookin’ for where Murd’s bein’ kept. You two? I wantcha awake fer planning, then yer free fer whatever. Capiche?”

Horror and Cross nod in agreement, Killer was the leader of their unit, and for good reason. Any plans Killer made were at least… more likely than the other two’s attempts to yield good results. Of course, there were still failures, Killer is still in rough waters after all.

To say their teamwork was lackluster would be an understatement… a good plan can’t be carried out if your group can’t work as a unit. However, they’d have to figure it out. This was Nightmare’s last straw, who knows what could happen if they fucked this up.

They certainly didn’t want to find out.

#undertaleau #killer sans #something new #horror sans #horrortale #utmv fanfic #nightmare sans #dreamtale #cross sans #xtale #Blasters and Bastards Au #how tf do I tag this

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fallinnflower · 7 months ago

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the secret prince's cinderella

huening kai x fem!reader (fluff, royalty!au, historical fantasy!au)

wc: 6k

a/n: hi everyone! so a month or so ago i had a dream i was directing a movie that follows (generally) the plot of this fic. during the aftermath of hurricane helene i had no power or internet or cell service and ended up writing the whole thing in basically two sittings. the bigger projects i have been mentioning for years now are still in the works, including vampire!Bambam, vampire!DPR Ian, part two of dragon/river god!wonpil, etc... these are all monster-sized works that i really am just grinding slowly at amidst my day-to-day life. thanks for your patience and i hope you enjoy this extremely fluffy fic!

When you first meet Kai you think he's just a strange, sort of awkward kid. He wanders into the town square one day and finds where all the kids are kicking around a ball one of the other kids' moms made for all of you to play with, and just kind of… stands there. You can tell he wants in, and as the eldest of the group (by thirteen whole days!) you decide to let him join. Nobody questions your decision — Kai evens out the teams for boys against girls for your games.

Even if you weren't the eldest in your group, you're sure you could've pulled strings to let Kai in if you'd had to, but you probably wouldn't have had to anyways. With his ethereally good looks, the other kids were already captivated by him. It didn't matter that he was awkward, he was pretty. You knew how powerful that could be, given that your mom was the prettiest lady in town.

So, your friendship with Kai began like that. Teaching him how to properly kick a ball so that he didn't hurt his foot; showing him the berry patches that were safe to pick from on the outskirts of the farms and forests; scouring the creeks to find the perfect stones to skip. It was idyllic, sitting in the meadow in the shadow of the big, tall castle on the hill where you all pondered what might be going on so far out of your reach.

You never even imagined what it might become in the future — what fate you had started spinning as you kicked that homemade ball over to him and made the circle of kids part to make him a space.

It’s going to be a sweltering summer, your mother had told you that morning, as you carefully braided her hair. Your mother has beautiful hair, a strawberry blond that almost glows pink in the sunlight and fair skin without a blemish. How she manages to be so pretty, you’ll never know — you inherited her eyes but not much else, though you like to think you have some of her charisma, too.

Your mother had also told you to be careful, and to not be home late, planting kisses on both of your cheeks and your forehead before making her way to work. You once heard that she could've become some lord's lover in the past, but she came here with your father instead. She works as a seamstress for the palace, setting off early every morning before the sun rises to make her way up the hill. Your father works in the blacksmith's shop. You’re almost old enough to work, but, for now, do odd jobs with the other kids and help keep the little garden in your backyard alive.

Alongside Kai, of course. He had been completely clueless about plants before you showed him the garden, and then he became obsessed. You know it’s only a matter of time before he comes knocking at your door to go stare at the sprouts, wondering each day at any little change in them.

Just as you finish braiding your own hair, there comes a familiar, rhythmic knock at your door. You don't even have to look to know it's Kai, so you pull it open without a second thought.

"How are the potatoes?" he asks, cheeks flushed.

"The same as yesterday. Did you run here?"

"Of course," he replies, walking purposefully through your house and right out the back door. "I'm sure it had another sprout growing yesterday, so it probably has leaves today."

"Kai," you sigh, trailing behind him. No matter how often you tell him that plants don't grow quite that fast, he never stops being so excitable. You decide to just let him go look at them like you always do. It's kind of cute, anyways — a thought you try to push aside. Kai is your friend first and foremost, and the fact that his teenage years had only added to his incredible beauty shouldn't — wouldn’t — change that.

Also, you know next to nothing about him, really. He keeps where he lives a secret and never talks about his family outside of vague statements about their personalities. What you know about Kai is what he's willing to share, meanwhile he knows almost everything about you and your life in this village. You don’t take it personally; his friendship means too much to you for you to go breaking it by prying too much.

"It looks like the tomatoes are wilting," he laments, his voice breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Really?" You go squat beside him among the little rows and look at the leaves he's gently cradling in one hand. They still look green to you, just fine, but Kai’s brow is still creased with deep concern. You chuckle softly.

"I think they're okay, Kai," you reassure him, patting his shoulder. It strikes you just how broad his shoulders are, and you push the thought away.

"You worry about the plants like you're their overbearing mother," you tease, nudging him with your elbow. He sways, letting go of the tomato plant and using one hand to prop himself up so he doesn't fall. Something falls out of his pocket with a dull thud into the dirt, and you snatch it up before he can.

It's a rock, an almost perfectly round gray one with a little face drawn on it with charcoal from a fire. The face has been redrawn multiple times, but always the same little smile. You can't help but laugh,

"You still have this?" Kai's cheeks turn faintly pink as he reaches out to take the rock from you. You hand it back to him, although you don’t really get why he holds it so gingerly.

"It's special," he replies, a little sullen.

"It's a rock," you state. For the life of you, you can't understand why he's so sentimental over rocks and vegetables in the garden, but makes no fuss over the fancy fabric scraps or broken bits of jewelry your mom gets to bring home sometimes. You find those much more fascinating, especially the fabric, as your mother explains how much time each embroidered design takes.

"It's not just any rock," he retorts, now indignant as he cradles the rock in his palm. He holds it up to your face as though to prove a point. "We found this when you were teaching me how to skip stones!"

You blink in confusion, looking between him and the rock.

"Kai, that rock wouldn't skip even once. It's too heavy. You just liked how it looked!"

You still remember that day vividly yourself. The whole little group had gone down to the creek to practice skipping stones. Your grandmother had been very good at it before she passed away, and taught you how to do it on the days when she watched over you while your parents worked. Teaching other kids wasn't nearly as easy — Kai was the only one truly paying attention to what you said, his eyes earnestly fixed on you as you demonstrated how to find a good rock for skipping and how exactly to flick your wrist when throwing. That rock he now held was one you had picked up to demonstrate a bad skipping stone, but Kai had gone running into the water to retrieve it just after it landed.

"Look how perfect it is!" he had exclaimed, making his way back to the shore with the stone triumphantly held up in his hands. Some of the other kids had conceded his point, and even you could acknowledge that it was a surprisingly round, symmetrical rock — though hardly worth his pants getting soaking wet over.

Still, to keep it all these years and draw its face back on every time it rubbed off…

You almost say something about it being weird, but the fondness on his face as he looks at the rock reminds you of the ratty rabbit doll you repair every time she has a rip or tear. She barely looks like she did when your mom first made her from fabric scraps, but she's too sentimental for you to let fall apart. If Kai's rock is weird, then your bunny would be just the same.

"Didn't you name it?" you ask instead, a vague memory attempting to rise in your mind.

"Yeah, it's Huenin Lionel Mbappe!" he replies proudly. He starts to say something else, but the chiming of the bell at the town square interrupts him. He quickly shoves Huenin Lionel Mbappe back into his pocket and stands up, offering you a hand. You don't need it, but you take it, surprised as always at how smooth his hands are. There are some calluses, but not nearly as many as your father and some of the other working men and boys in the village. Once again you wonder what he does when he's not with you, but you don't dwell on it, pretending you don't notice that he's still holding your hand as you run to the square together to meet up with the others.

You're just glad he can't see how flustered you are as he squeezes your palm, pulling you along.

Working with the other teens in the village often entails doing small tasks the apprentices and owners of different businesses don't have time to. Running deliveries, cleaning up a mess — little jobs for meager amounts of money. Being the eldest, you're the closest to picking a trade, but you think you'll likely just be like your mom. You already know how to sew pretty well from being taught by her, and you do odd mending jobs for other villagers in a pinch. The other kids you run with have been trying to forge connections at the businesses you help, testing the waters for a potential apprenticeship.

Not Kai, though. While he seems interested in almost everything, he doesn't put himself forward as a hirable option for anyone. He also rarely takes a share of the earnings — you'd learned years earlier that he would secretly pass it all off in small bits to each of you, making different excuses each time until he had none left. You don't ask why and you don't tell him or the others you've caught on. Like your own potentially blossoming feelings, it feels like the mention of it could ruin what you and Kai have now, and you value that too much to jeopardize it.

"Y/N, your dad said a couple of us should get more water for the blacksmiths from the river," one of the boys says as you and Kai approach. You brush flyaway strands of hair away from your face, quickly slipping your hand out of Kai’s grasp before the others notice.

"Okay, I think some of the ladies in the market have errands for us too. Should we split up for now?" you ask, and everyone in the group agrees. You expect Kai to go with some of the boys who start making their way down to the river, buckets in hand, but he lingers by your side as the rest of you head towards the market square.

For some reason, Kai seems to be sticking especially close to you. He accompanies you on more of your errands, only taking on his own if someone calls him over specifically. Even then, he makes his way back to you as soon as he can, dutifully trailing behind you.

"You're like a duckling," you tell him as the two of you make your way back out onto the street. You count the coins in your palm and only shoot him a short sidelong glance when he drops his share into your pocket, trying to be stealthy.

"What do you mean?" he asks, sidling up beside you.

"The way you're trailing me," you explain, dropping the rest of your coins into your pocket where they clink against the ones he left. He cringes slightly, knowing he's been caught, but you don't say anything about it. "It's like I'm a mother duck and you're a duckling, following right behind me."

"Hm," he hums, hands clasped behind his back. "Does that also mean I'm cute like a duckling?"

He's smiling at you almost smugly, like he's expecting a compliment. Your heart flutters at the sight, and you wonder if you'll ever get used to just how handsome he is. Pushing the thought aside, you nudge him with your elbow, snorting,

"Helpless, more like." Kai laughs and knocks right back into you,

"You're right, I'm hopeless. What would I do without you?" His words catch you off guard, and you clear your throat to cover your embarrassment.

"Who taught you to talk like that?" you tease, and his grin widens.

"My dad told me I should be sweet to the girls in my life. Especially the really important ones. And the ones I really like."

Which of those am I? you wonder, but the words get stuck in your throat. You and Kai stare wordlessly at each other for a moment, and you feel as though you're getting pulled in by his sparkling eyes—

"Kai! Can you come help me with this?" You both startle at the voice of another vendor, and you poke his shoulder.

"You should go help them. I'm going to ask around for more errands." Kai nods, and you can't tell if you're imagining the disappointment in his eyes as he turns away.

The day ends the same place it started — Kai walks you back to your house to check on the garden again before you start dinner. You stay in the kitchen and tie on your apron, pulling out your paring knife so you can start peeling potatoes and carrots. While he looks to see if there's anything to be gathered, you light the fire under the large pot hanging in the fireplace and dump the bucket of well water you had brought with you in. Kai comes back through the door with a small basket tucked under his arm as you pull your chair up by the fire, settling down to start peeling.

"Can I help?" he asks. It's not an unusual request, but one you're not sure if you'll allow. Kai isn't always the best with a knife, prone to getting distracted as the two of you talk. The last thing you want is for him to slice his finger open, but you find yourself nodding anyway.

"Okay, but be careful. Can you start on the carrots?" You feel safer about him peeling carrots than potatoes, and he acquiesces, pulling another chair up beside you.

The crackling of the fire fills the room, the sound of peels hitting the bottom of the buckets barely audible. Eventually you start humming, a habit you picked up from your father, and Kai joins in on the tune. You glance at him to be sure he isn't distracted and are pleased to find him peeling the carrots successfully.

"Oh, wait, Y/N!" he exclaims a few moments later, almost making you slice off a large chunk of perfectly good potato. You look over to him as he sets his knife on his lap and picks up a carrot. He holds the tip in his left hand and raises it to about his shoulder, the bottom of the carrot pointing diagonally at his right hip, and raises his other hand.

"Doo dwang dee dwang~ Dow dow da dow-da-da-dow~"

You stare on in mute disbelief as he continues, tapping his fingers along the tip of the carrot, making a strumming motion with his other hand at its wide end. He eventually stops and beams at you, an expectant look in his eyes.

"So, what do you think? Did I sound like a lute?"

"That was a lute?" You almost feel bad for asking, but really, you wouldn't have ever guessed.

"Huh," he says, looking down at the carrot in his hand. "My mom liked my impression."

"Moms are like that," you reply. "My mom once told me I had a nice singing voice and then I embarrassed myself in front of half the village kids."

Kai seems a little puzzled by this, as though he hadn't considered his mom might just be saying that because he's her son. Regardless, he shrugs it off and picks his knife back up.

"I'll just have to practice more."

You don't say another word and just go back to peeling and humming. Kai leaves when the bell rings on the hour, and you continue cooking dinner as your parents make their way home in the twilight of the village.

You don't see Kai for the next few days — not that it worries you. Honestly, you don't know what he does or where he is most of the time, but it's fine. You go about your usual routine, until it's interrupted by an unusual tolling of the bell, the kind that signals for villagers to come to the main square for news. You set aside your sewing and rush out to meet your friends there, spotting your father on the edges of the crowd with his coworkers from the smithy. As you gather, you see some sort of palace official with the royal guard behind him preparing to speak. He unfurls his message and clears his throat loudly; the crowd instantly hushes. Your heart beats loudly in your ears, worrying over whether the news is good or bad and your mom working inside the palace.

"Hear ye, hear ye— to celebrate the joyous occasion of Prince Kai Kamal Huening's eighteenth birthday, all citizens are invited to attend a ball at the royal palace, Saturday fortnight! Be prepared to eat, drink, and be merry!"

A birthday banquet at the palace with everyone invited? you think. Then, Kai almost named his pet rock like a member of the royal family?

You wish he was there so you could get his reaction, but instead you turn to your other excited friends. All you can think of is what you could possibly wear to the palace of all places, and with only two weeks to prepare.

Not seeing Kai for a few days is normal, but not seeing him for two weeks is strange. He had shown up at your home out of breath the afternoon of the ball announcement, asking if you'd heard the news, only to run back home just as quickly after checking on the garden. Your mother had rushed home that evening with a roll of fabric in her arms, exclaiming that her coworkers knew she had a daughter around the prince's age and let her take the last of an old bolster home. It wouldn't make much, maybe sleeves or the bodice of a gown, but it was beautiful. It was leftover from some drapes in a far wing of the palace, a plush blue velvet with golden-threaded embroidery.

"You'll look splendid," your mother had said, positively beaming as she held the fabric up to your chest. You didn't bother telling her that there was next to no chance of you dancing with the prince no matter how pretty your dress was, but thought better of it. Besides, it's not like you weren't excited at the prospect of dancing — just not with some total stranger like the prince. The image of Kai smiling broadly when you said that you would be attending the ball rose to the forefront of your mind.

Pushing it aside, you and your mother had begun working on your gown. Now, with the ball only days away, you hadn't seen even a glimpse of Kai in all that time. You'd wanted to show him the fabric, but with it almost finished you want the final look to be a surprise to everyone but you and your mother. With each day you don't see him, worry weighs more heavily on your heart. Nobody in the village knows Kai better than you, so if something had happened then nobody would even know where to start looking for him. You (and your friends) tell yourself to calm down. He always turns up, so you just have to be patient.

You stare down at the potato plants in the garden forlornly, looking at how some of the leaves are beginning to turn just the slightest bit brown as autumn begins to descend. You imagine Kai's worried face and let out a sigh. You just hope he's alright, wherever he is.

On the morning of the ball, everyone in the village wakes up excited. There's no real work to be done that day, as the palace had ordered most businesses to halt operations unless absolutely necessary. Your father scrubs his hands and face (with your mother's help) until his skin doesn't have even the slightest speck of soot on it. You help your mother braid her beautiful hair into a pretty crown on her head, and she helps you into your brand new dress. Slowly, the villagers start making their way up the hill to the palace; you walk behind your parents, who walk arm-in-arm, chatting happily. You wonder how long it's been since they've been able to spend a day together like this, or seen each other all dressed up. The thought of seeing Kai in a fancy outfit makes your heart pound; he's so pretty even in the simplest work clothes, how much more attractive will he look in party attire?

You try not to dwell on it, not wanting to be even more nervous than you already are. Instead you focus on all the familiar faces around you, dressed in their absolute best and chattering excitedly. You aren't sure exactly where your friends are because you came with your parents, but you know you'll all find each other eventually. When you reach the palace gates, you're greeted by members of the royal knights and other official-looking personnel. Your mother points out the people she recognizes, whispering to you and your father who the chamberlain is, and the butler, and the marshal. You lose track of all the people as you're led into the ballroom and are astounded by its grandeur. You've never seen so many candles in one place, or so much food and wine.

"I'm going to find my friends," you announce, still half in a daze. You do try to find them but also end up wandering around the room, in awe of everything around you. Even the drapes in this room put the fabric your mom brought home to shame — is it because it's a big event, or had that fabric been for drapes in some unimportant room. You finally catch sight of a couple of your friends, but as you make your way to them you're interrupted by the sound of a bugle. The whole crowd turns their attention to the raised platform where the two large thrones sit alongside three smaller thrones that you assume are for the two princesses and the prince.

"Now announcing the arrival of the His and Her Majesties, the Sun and Moon of the kingdom!" Everyone drops into a bow or curtsy as the royal couple enters, and you glance up through your eyelashes to get a glimpse of them. You're surprised by just how stunning they appear, and how kind their smiles look. They stand in front of their thrones and look off to the side as their children’s entrances are announced,

"Princess Lea Navvab Huening!" She enters with a smile and a graceful wave, her dark brown hair pulled back neatly. She looks almost familiar, though you wonder if it's just because she's standing beside her parents.

"The Prince, Kai Kamal Huening!" The entire crowd goes even more quiet, excited to get a glimpse of the man of the hour. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him, and you have to rush to lower your head so you don't seem disrespectful.

That… that’s your Kai, isn't it? Up there on the platform? Your head is spinning, and you barely hear the announcement of the youngest royal sibling, Princess Bahiyyih Jaleh Huening. She's beautiful, too — the whole trio is stunning as they stand beside their parents, but you can scarcely think with the way your heart is racing. This whole time, your Kai was actually Prince Kai? You swear it can't be true, then look back at the royal family as the King and Queen descend for the first dance of the night and know you're right. It's him.

You barely see the first dance, but when the Prince and first Princess descend for the second dance you're hyper-focused. Once he's on the dance floor you truly can't deny it anymore.

You can't decide what to do. A part of you wants to run and hide, embarrassed and, frankly, scared that you had treated a member of the royal family like any other village child. How could you be so stupid? How could you not know? You try to slink away to the furthest edges of the crowd as Prince Kai has the third dance with the second princess, wondering if you can somehow get away without being noticed by him.

But then they announce that the ball has started in earnest. The King and Queen take their seats, as well as the princesses, and you watch Kai scan the crowd in search of a partner for his first dance with someone who isn't his sister. You step behind one of your father's coworkers, an exceedingly tall man, but you're shocked when the crowd suddenly starts parting in front of you almost immediately.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice calls, soft. You swear your heart stops in that moment. The man steps aside to reveal Kai, the light making the golden crown on his head seem like a halo.

"Can I have this dance?"

Everyone is staring at you and Kai with the same sense of disbelief that you're feeling. The same boy they'd had running errands a mere two weeks before was the prince of their kingdom, and now he was asking the girl he'd run around the village with for years to be his dance partner.

"I— um, are you sure about this?" you whisper, looking from his face to his outstretched hand and back. You know what this looks like, what this implies. After all, celebrating his birthday like this is also to remind everyone that he's an adult of marriageable age now — does he really want to imply that you're his first choice?

But Kai just continues to smile, albeit looking a little bit more confused.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

So, you take his hand.

You've never slow danced with anyone but your father at home, and even then it was just for fun; your dancing at festivals was never so regimented. Kai guides your hands to their proper placements and squeezes the one he holds, flashing you a reassuring grin.

"I've got you. Just follow my lead." It feels like your heart has leapt up into your throat, so you can only manage to nod and put your trust in him like he said.

And he guides you. You never would have guessed he was such a skilled dancer, but it's so easy to follow his lead that you're able to actually enjoy yourself more than worry about how you look. His hands are warm and his gaze is so fond, so tender, that you almost can't believe it's you he's looking at. As you fall into a comfortable rhythm, Kai leans in closer.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs, his lips almost brushing against your ear. A shiver runs down your spine, but you don't think anyone but him notices. It only makes him smile more when you stare at him in bashful disbelief. When he said his dad told him to say sweet things, that was the King, right? That realization just sends you reeling further.

You stare at him, not sure what to say to that aside from a barely audible,

"You too." Kai blushes, his cheeks turning a rosy pink that makes him look even more angelic.

"So am I an important girl or a girl that you like?" you ask, not really meaning to say anything at all and certainly not something so embarrassing. Kai looks taken aback, his eyes widening like a deer's. Somehow his cuteness makes you feel embarrassed, but you try not to show it.

"Both?" he says. "I think it can be both. So, both." He smiles, satisfied with his answer.

"You like me?" you squeak out, and Kai cocks his head to the side.

"Yeah? I thought that was obvious. Everyone else knew."

"Everyone else knew?" you parrot in disbelief, and Kai nods.

"I guess I'm the only one they teased about it…" You can't help but laugh a little at that; none of the other neighborhood kids ever gave you much shit since you were their unofficial leader. That said, you're definitely going to have to grill them about this later.

Kai pulls you slightly closer as the song comes to an end, before you part to bow and curtsy to each other.

"Can I have the next dance, too?" he asks, looking down at you with the most doe-like eyes he can manage. You press a hand to your chest, where your heart is still pounding.

"I think I need to sit down before I have a heart attack. This was a lot to take in." You take the hand Kai offers you, though, as he escorts you over to a chair.

"I'll get you something to drink," he says, and he's gone before you can even protest that a servant could probably just bring a tray around. He's still your Kai, after all, you think, and it makes you feel relieved.

As you're sitting waiting for him you notice how many eyes are on you. None are judgmental, thankfully — most are just in awe, both that Kai is actually the Prince and you suddenly seem in line to become a part of the royal family yourself. The mere thought makes your cheeks start to burn again, and you wave your hands by your face to try and cool down.

As you're doing so, you suddenly notice the crowd parting towards you again, this time to allow the two princesses to approach. You hurriedly stand up and drop into a curtsy,

"My humblest greetings to your highnesses, the first and second princess." Your hands are shaking but you hope they don't notice as you hold your skirts up.

"Is this her?" the second princess, Bahiyyih, whispers to her sister. You glance up just as the first princess elbows her before turning to you with a smile. She takes both your hands in hers.

"What she means is, we've heard a lot about you. And Kai has gotten in a lot of trouble for sneaking out all the time, but we get it now." You swear your face gets warmer with every word she says, made worse by the effervescent grin on Bahiyyih's face as she nods along to her sister's words. Just then, Kai reappears by your side, a drink in each hand. Lea lets go of your hands, which you're grateful for because you feel like your palms are getting sweaty.

"Lea…" He whines, shifting so he's standing behind you even though you don't hide him very well. You reach for your drink, hoping that having something to hold will ease your shakiness.

"It's true!" Bahiyyih chimes in. "It took us forever to figure out where he was going, and then we realized he was going to meet a girl! It's so cute!"

"Please don't call me cute," he groans.

"But you are cute," you blurt, and immediately want the ground to swallow you whole. A glance at Kai tells you his face is bright red, burning hot just like yours, and Lea squeezes your hands tighter as she and Bahiyyih practically squeal with delight.

“So you do think I'm cute?” Kai asks, leaning around to get a look at your face. Now both he and the princesses are looking at you expectantly, and you feel like your face is on fire.

“Well, yeah,” you mumble, quickly taking a sip of your drink. The princesses are almost vibrating with excitement, and Kai’s face turns bright red but his eyes are glimmering with excitement, his smile broad. His joy is almost blinding, and your heart is nearly beating out of your chest.

“I think you're cute, too, Y/N,” he says. Your knees feel weak, and you only manage to pull your gaze from his when you faintly hear the sound of Bahiyyih giggling. Lea takes hold of her little sister’s arm and smiles apologetically at you,

“We'll give you two some time alone now.” She starts tugging Bahiyyih away, but the youngest Huening sibling takes hold of your hand.

“I can't wait to get to know you better, sister-in-law!”

“Uh, y-yes, me too,” you reply, mind going blank. Sister-in-law?! In a daze, you sit back down in the chair Kai had led you to earlier, barely registering that he's sitting next to you until he sets his hand on top of yours.

“Are you okay?” You turn to him, mouth slightly agape.

“Did she call me sister-in-law?” you ask. Kai laughs bashfully and links his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, she's… excitable.” You nod, still sort of dazed, and take another sip of your drink. Staring back out into the crowd, you notice the princesses making their way back up to their parents’ side. In the distance you can see Bahiyyih leaning in to whisper something to her mother, and the queen's gaze seems to find you in the sea of people.

“Oh my god,” you say, hurriedly turning back to Kai. “Does— do your parents know about me?” He nods.

“I got caught sneaking out and told them everything,” he explains. “This ball was part my idea and part theirs, so I could introduce you to them… Or let them see you, at least.” He must have seen the total anxiety in your expression at the prospect of meeting his parents one-on-one and immediately smooths it over, squeezing your hand again.

“There's no rush,” he reassures you, and looking into his earnest eyes does actually help to calm your nerves. From this close you hardly notice the crown on his head, he just looks like the same boy you've been running around the village with for years. Just Kai.

Your Kai. Just the thought makes your heart soar.

You down the rest of your drink and stand up, Kai’s hand still in yours.

“Do you want to step outside for a bit?” you ask, and Kai nods, setting his own drink aside too before standing up. The two of you make your way onto one of the balconies off the ballroom, and the cool night breeze puts your mind at ease. You feel like you can finally breathe again, standing by Kai’s side under the familiar light of the moon. He lightly swings your joined hands between you, staring up at the stars. Eventually, he turns his full attention back to you,

“Why did you want to come outside?” You take his other hand in yours and look down at the stones paving the bottom of the balcony. His shoes are so nice, you think, and almost want to laugh. All this time you wondered why he was only around some of the time and gave his money to the other kids — meanwhile he was sneaking in and out of the palace to come meet you. You take a deep breath, summoning all your courage,

“I just… thought it would be kind of embarrassing to have our first kiss in front of a crowd…” Kai squeezes your hands unintentionally, and you glance up at him, unable to meet his gaze fully. Even after saying it, you aren't sure where you got the confidence.

“So, can I?” he asks, his voice soft. “Kiss you, I mean.” You laugh, the tension breaking, and lean in.

“You really are hopeless, aren't you?” you tease, “Of course.”

You press your lips to his, the taste of wine still lingering, and you suddenly get the feeling that this is the beginning of the rest of your life. And you're going to live happily ever after.

#hueningkai fanfiction #txt fanfiction #txt writing #txt scenarios #txt texts #hueningkai writing #hueningkai scenarios #my writing #kpop scenarios #kpop texts #kpop writing #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #txt fanfic #hueningkai fanfic

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tlbodine · 3 months ago

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Overthinking: The Horror at Camp Jellyjam

After the stinker that is The Barking Ghost, it's nice to follow up with The Horror at Camp Jellyjam, which is one of the Goosebumps books of all time. It came out in July of '95, one of several "camp books" in the series. After the popularity of Welcome to Camp Nightmare, Stine would put out a camp book every summer.

As a massive Camp Nightmare fan, I remember being a little disappointed in this one when I read it as a kid. It just didn't quite match my expectations the first time. But I warmed up to it, and in hindsight it's proven to be one of the most memorable. It also has one of the freakiest covers despite it basically just being of some dude. Tim Jacobus had really hit his stride by now.

Anyway, let's get into it.

First, the Plot: Wendy and her hyper-competitive little brother Elliot are bored out of their mind on a long road trip vacation with their parents. For a change of scenery, they beg to ride in the camper trailer behind the car. But when the trailer is uncoupled on a steep hill, it rolls backwards and crashes into the woods. Lucky for the kids, they're quickly found by the camp counselor at nearby sports camp, Camp Jellyjam, which has a weird purple blob for a mascot. It's fine, don't worry about it. Also sometimes there are small localized earthquakes. Again, totally fine and definitely not related in any way.

The counselor, Buddy, assures them that he'll find their parents and everything will be taken care of, and suggests they settle in and enjoy themselves. What sort of camp is it? A sports camp -- for EVERY sport! They have everything from softball to ping pong, even chess. What matters is that you win, because as the motto says, ONLY THE BEST!

Elliot takes to this place right away, but Wendy's not so sure about it. Still, she tries to relax and make friends with her bunk mates, and plays in some sports. But everybody is really fixated on winning. When you win, you get a special coin, and after six coins, you join the winner's circle.

But when one of Wendy's bunkmates enters the winner's circle that night, she disappears without a trace. And they run into a younger camper who is sobbing too hard to understand but seems to be warning them to get away. When she tries to find a phone to call and leave a voicemail for her parents, Wendy finds that all the payphones are fakes that just play the same goofy message on repeat. And Elliot is of no help -- he just wants to play games and win, because his competitive streak is in overdrive.

After a couple days, Wendy decides to sneakily follow some counselors and finds a building in the woods. Descending, she finds a big chamber where the counselors gather and are hypnotized. More worryingly, deeper down there's a big cavern filled with kids wielding mops and sponges....and a giant, purple blob monster, King Jellyjam himself.

JJ radiates an awful stench. He hates his own smell so much that he needs to be washed 24/7, and he can only bear to have the strongest, most athletic kids take care of him (ONLY THE BEST!) so he's bamboozled the cult of counselors into making the kids compete for the, uh, honor.

Wendy escapes and manages to retrieve her brother, showing him the reality of what's going on. Luckily, she has a plan! She convinces the kids all to stop cleaning and to lie flat -- where Jellyjam can't reach them. He struggles with the effort before ultimately asphyxiating on his own stench, freeing the kids.

The smell attracts the notice of the local police, who come up to investigate and discover the counselors acting suspicious. They rescue the kids and Wendy and Elliot are reunited with their parents. Buddy even shows up at their house to deliver Elliot his well-earned King Coin. Uh-oh. What's that smell? Oh, phew...just mom cooking brussels sprouts....

Overthinking It:

This may be Stine's first real foray into cosmic horror. We've danced around some existential themes before, but this is straight up eldritch being stuff, and it's great.

There are people who take a fatphobic read of King Jellyjam, but I think that's a little uncharitable. On the balance, Stine isn't actually as bad about fatphobia as people make him out to be. I think he's generally kinder to his fat characters than Stephen King is, anyway. Yes, fat jokes are a staple for Slappy and his ilk, and yes, sometimes fatness in general gets treated as a punchline or a villainous trait. But we have plenty of large-bodied characters with heroic roles, too, including several of our protagonists, and it's not a big deal.

So, yes, while KJJ is a big fat blob who's festering in his own stink, I don't think that really reflects any particular world-view about fatness in general, at least where people are concerned. Also like. He's not even fat so much as...blobby. Oozy. Inhuman in form and function. He sweats snails for godsake.

(oh yeah, did I mention he sweats snails?)

Anyway. This is good stuff. Well-paced, it jumps right into the action and keeps it ratcheting up. One of the most chilling scenes is subtle but effective. While practicing her softball swing, Wendy accidentally swings back and hits Buddy right in the chest. She hears a sickening crunch, like eggs breaking, and is sure she must have broken some ribs at least. She waits for his chest to cave in, for him to collapse or cry out or anything, but he just keeps smiling, utterly unfazed, and starts giving her pointers.

Good stuff.

Because I am middle-aged now, I struggled to read this without thinking of how sick with worry their parents must have been. Can you imagine your trailer coming unhitched on a mountain...realizing it too late...backtracking...finding it crashed but empty, unable to find your kids? You send cops looking for them but whenever they call the nearby camp, the helpful counselors insist they haven't seen them but they'll keep an eye out. Eventually it's discovered that the kids WERE at that camp all along, seemingly being held there against their will by a bunch of deranged counselors. And they come home with some wild story about bathing the king???

Everything about this is nightmare fuel. Those parents are never going to be okay again. The kids got to face their nightmare head-on and beat it, but those parents are going to be playing over this over...and over...and over.

If You Enjoyed This, THESE Will Really Give You Goosebumps:

Although it's another camp story like Welcome to Camp Nightmare, I think this book actually shares more DNA with One Day at Horrorland. They make interesting parallel reads: family vacation, car trouble, being assured by a stranger that you'll be taken care of, trying to relax while some terrible thing just happened to you, discovering that a different terrible thing is happening below the surface of what you're doing.

Tonally very different, but for cult horror it's hard to beat Midsommar, especially in the vein of "things are very wrong here but everybody's having a marvelous time."

I also thought, frequently, of the Welcome to Night Vale arc with StrexCorp and worshipping the Smiling God. IYKYK.

This book also has some similarities with the "killing game" subgenre of storytelling, such as Squid Game. Except, of course, in that show you want to be the winner.

#overthinking goosebumps #goosebumps #rl stine #tim jacobus #horror #books #horror books

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 1 year ago

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pt 24 of sbitilyp was INCREDIBLE. i genuinely started crying it was so good!!! thank you so much for writing these they make my day

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 25

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,332

Your black eyes is fine.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, interlude, unedited

“What are you doing?” You wanted to fist pump as you succeeded your quest -the personal one- primarily involving not stuttering and being so completely totally normal and in background character.

You were sure if this was any time before Toothless, Hiccup would have startled like a cat. His shoulders only jumped slightly, though.

You’d caught him off guard out in the forest, hands deep into a hole in the ground, dirt caked under his nails and onto his sleeves right by a particularly long frond of borage. He’d looked a little bit peaceful before you interrupted him.

You wondered if Gothi had called him off on a quest, or something?

Fishlegs would have been better for that. You wondered how Fishlegs was doing with Ruffnut. Hiccup wasn’t the type to plant flowers or dig for them, not in any way you knew. He didn’t look it.

You could never naturally see him wanting to do that for any reason, though you guessed he couldn’t be against it as an idea.

You adjusted your grip on woven handles, your boon heavy enough to pull your arms taut, though small it was. They would definitely start to shake if you didn’t put them down soon.

“Digging-” A sans-coat Hiccup tried, getting up from his knees, doing his best to wipe off a very strong ‘I-was-caught’ look from his face, “Digging holes.”

You kind of hoped he wasn’t doing anything illegal, not that most of the laws you knew were still applicable here.

It kind of made sense, though. Digging out in the forest-Digging holes, It was probably a guy thing. There was a certain allure to hole digging, you had to admit.

Hiccup leaned elbow first, smiling fondly and not quite awkward-he was actually close to the tree- against the side of a long, straight tree trunk, bending and throwing one ankle over the other, sliding and jerking slightly in a way that had to be painful on his elbow skin.

He bobbed and shifted, though as if he was trying to keep you from looking at something. There was a level of irony to it as he seemed slightly embarrassed by the action, corners of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to glower blanky, completely aware of what he was doing and displeased by the awkward quality inherent in the action.

You had vaguely caught something that looked like the corner of his journal, the edge of a dirt pile and a stick of charcoal before you figured it would be better if you left what he wanted to hide alone.

He really hadn’t done anything like that around you in a while.

You took it as a sign of him growing more comfortable.

Quickly he stumbled, then he righted himself with a grimace, looking down at brushing his hands against his elbows, bringing down his rolled-up sleeves with a blank disgruntlement, a look he probably meant to keep to himself.

It was then that you smiled back, though you had to fight back a downward twitch of the lips as you realized he hadn’t worn any beads.

He had the last time you’d seen him… When you’d been quite literally swept away by Hiccup and his dragon. He might have lost a few over the water.

Your heart stuttered and fluttered and you shook your head and jerked it away, refusing to look at him. Instead, you examined a tiny plant sprouting out of the side of a tree by you, though Hiccup’s earlier display was also enough to put you on high alert.

Of course, you would be better off thinking about something more practical instead. It would be very good for you if there were any rocks under there, shaded by the small fern’s leaves.

It’s what you were here for, after all, small smooth stones in the pocket of your borrowed smock and in the small, two-hand sized woven basket in your palms.

You managed one that looked like smooth quartz. Otherwise, for some reason, there weren’t many around. Not under the ferns in the forest near the village or down by any of the cliffs, too dangerous to walk yourself unless you wanted to slip and fall. They were loose after the most recent rain

You had to ask yourself what you would do, If you didn't have enough stones. You weren’t going to give him any, if he decided not to pay you. Your algae pot needed something pretty-looking, anyways. A stone wall was the first step towards that.

Your furrowed your brows, hoping you at least looked more disgruntled than embarrassed.

“It’s Foxglove,” Hiccup stated eventually, at your ogling. He was very sure about it.

You tried to do a mental shake, dispelling heat by the nape of your neck like a dog shook off water, but you failed, because it came back right after.

Then you blinked hard, which caused your eye to twinge sharply, though the sting was not nearly enough to settle the hairs standing like they were shot with electricity on the back of your neck.

“...Poisonous?” You asked. You scuffed your foot hard against the dirt then grimaced, the bones in it complaining back up at you. You’d dropped a lot of heavy things on it earlier.

It took you a while to stop limping, though it still stung, a lot like your eye, but fresher somehow.

The woods around here were lighter on account of you being closer to the village than not. Less mysterious.

It would have been nice to be deeper in, doing away things, like taking another look at Hiccup’s glowing pond. You’d need a guide, though.

If your goal was alone time, then that would make the point moot.

“...Yeah,” He said with no small amount of unease.

“Agnarr sent me down for some stones, something about lining his plants. He doesn’t have any, by the way,” You sighed. It was a breathy, stuttering thing, filled with anxious energy.

Hiccup seemed slightly irritated at that, rolling his eyes backwards, “Did he really?”

You blinked again in a way that should have not felt awkward if it wasn’t for the perpetual, sharp ache just under your eye.

Your eyelids and the soft flesh bits were still sore, though the bruising for the most part had yellowed and you were sure that it would disappear completely soon.

Still, it felt kind of crusty.

“Is your eye okay?” Hiccup asked, noticing your discomfort, sort of mooning at it for a moment, “Did you want to go up to Gothi’s?”

“I’m fine,” You said, humming casually.

“I‘ve been meaning to go up there anyways. I mean, I tripped,” Hiccup paused. It was subtle, but he was looking at you with line-pursed lips and wide eyes, hand freezing on his neck as he tried to rub it, obviously waiting for an answer to a pretty obvious play, “...When I fell off the log…?”

The look he gave you was the same caught look from just a few moments ago.

You gave in and blew a raspberry with your tongue, staring at him with slitted eyes and dropped shoulders, holding yourself a bit easier then, “Okay.”

It looked like you were walking up with Hiccup again.

The idea made you happy.

You imagined the soft part of his palms where all his fortune-telling lines damp with sea spray. You recalled adrenaline, yours and second hand, and the feeling of what might have been his strung-out-dragon-knight-nerves against your hands, like you remembered from when both of yours touched when you had been climbing up the log, walking back in the forest.

Your pinky twitched against the dried grass feel of your mini basket.

It was too heavy, weighed down by minerals and plain rock to hold with one hand, but as you started trotting back the way you came, you could hope.

“So…”

You squeaked, nearly tripping and dropping the heavy basket of rocks on your foot again as he spoke.

#fav #wanted to give more than a response #thank you #httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup x reader #hiccup haddock #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader #toothless

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adaptacy · 2 years ago

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A Found Flame {Pt.2}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

A/N: Gonna cross-post this to AO3 eventually once I have more of an idea of how the plots gonna go cause you all have convinced me to full-send it and make it a longform thing. just adding it to the list of wip.... a sincere apology to my tcm fics.... anyways! i love my little depressed magic-cancer nerd and im glad im not the only one. here's more of him :) [it wont all be angst, but i gotta set the scene and the stakes, yanno...?] ALSO 'a found flame' is just the working title, idk what the official one is gonna be but i'll let yall know when i figure that out

Word Count: 3.1k

Stepping outside grants you an opportunity to taste the last flavors of the fading winter, only feeling the quick spikes of a chill every few minutes, and even then, it’s only thanks to the setting sun. You still wear a purple velvet shawl, as per the request – well, demand – of Gale. He insisted many moons ago that you shouldn’t ever risk getting sick when you can take measures to avoid such a fate, and you’d decided it was much simpler to go along with it than to argue your safety. That plan was cemented when he purchased you a finely tailored purple shawl, the edges of the hood and cloak lined with lynx fur, dyed a dark pink to complement the thick purple velvet that made up the majority of the shawl. A gift that nothing short of surprised you, even had you fooled into believing you’d been dreaming when he presented it to you. Why he was so particularly fearful of the cold, you weren’t sure, but you deeply appreciated the gift, and even if you did enjoy winter’s nip, the shawl was both gorgeous and comfortable, and you’d be insane to leave it behind.

Gale was also particularly sensitive to cold weather, from what you could tell, which likely had a role in his passionate bias against the chilliness of post-snow air. Frankly, you were fine with the occasional runny nose in exchange for a chance to wander down a snow-dusted forest trail, and you didn’t mind a shiver here and there while you caught free-falling flakes that Waterdeep was ever so rarely granted.

The garden, however, was much like Gale – hardly a fan of the cold. Gale did not have a green thumb, but he still shared similarities with the plants you tended. Those plants that, currently, were dead and buried. While you’d managed to convince him to try his hand at herbalism and gardening, he had more of Bhaal’s touch with the sprouts than the ‘magic’ touch he so often joked about. It was amusing, and a little pitiful; the exasperated sigh and the troubled frown that followed your breaking of the news, that his poorly packed and overwatered plants had passed. He was dramatic, and managed to find the humor in the situation, though vowed to let you handle anything to do with seedlings and crops from that point onwards.

It was unfortunate, as you appreciated his entertaining company (even if it came mostly in the form of griping, displeased that he had to get so up close and personal with dirt and worms) around the garden beds, but it allowed for moments like these. Truth be told, you had no intention of gardening. You would have to wait another twelve dawns until any useful plants would be back in season, so planting anything this late in winter would be a waste of both time and resources.

Instead, you aimed to explore a small forest trail that you’d just recently discovered, not far from the tower you stayed at. To say you lived there felt like too strong, too certain, of a term. It was the only place you slept, and nearly all of your time was spent there, but you knew it wasn’t home. It was Gale’s home, and you were a mere guest. A sixteen-month-and-counting guest, but a guest nonetheless. You worked, your apprenticeship laboursome and sometimes really quite demanding, and Gale repaid your loyalty and assistance by giving you a place to stay. You’d just never planned to stay so long.

In all honesty, you expected it to be a very temporary arrangement. You suspected Gale felt the same way. But circumstances changed, and so did minds, and you didn’t see yourself leaving anytime soon. It helped that you got along quite well with your boss-slash-roommate, despite the differences in personality and age. You were comfortable with the way things were, and Gale had just recently begun to sprout ideas of passing his own spell-casting knowledge on to you, with today’s lesson being a prime example. When you weren’t helping out around his home, or running errands for him, or tending to the garden, you were most usually subjected to reading long passages from books that were once very far above your understanding.

If Gale was a master of anything, it was surely knowledge. You’d found it odd, at first. Spending all of his days wasting away in his tower, just reading, rotting into a hermit, you’d assumed. But you’d soon gained an appreciation for his boundless mind, and felt almost honored that he’d decided you worthy of learning from him. Being a wizard’s apprentice had never been in the plans, not even as a fleeting hypothetical, and yet you found yourself in that exact scenario – and enjoying it nonetheless!

Glancing down at the small woven basket hanging from your arm, you frowned, lost in thought. Gale taught you a lot, and he still had plenty left to teach, but by no means did that translate over to you really knowing the man you shared a house with. He taught from books and scrolls, and on a few spare good days from his own vast experience. Even with all of the lectures he gave, you found that any details about him that weren’t related to magic, or your lessons, were all quite lacking. What you did know about his personal life was almost purely from observation.

Well, a few times when Tara had made a passing comment about some personal detail and surely was later scolded for it, but those were few and far between. If anyone were to blame for your curiosity, it was most certainly the man himself. He loved preaching the importance of curiosity, exploration (despite rarely leaving the confines of his study), and seeking knowledge, and you’d be a rather poor apprentice to disregard such lessons. Or, arguably worse, cherry pick when you applied those lessons to real world scenarios.

Most recently, your nose for curiosity had picked up on the notably pungent scent of Gale’s behavior. It was unusual, slightly withdrawn, perhaps a little panicked if you truly squinted between the lines. Gale was predictable, for the most part – it was one of his traits that had earned him your trust in the first place. Though as of recent, he’d been rather strange. And not the typical Gale kind of strange – an unsettling, uncharacteristic strange. One that you knew better than to ask questions about, but one that certainly sprouted confusion.

You neared the edge of the forest, giving the pale trees a smile as if to promise your peace. Pausing just before the tree line, you peered into the woods, interested as to what you might discover. You proceeded, following a very faint trail into the woods. You had a pretty solid confidence in your navigational skills – otherwise you most definitely would’ve gotten completely trapped in the maze of a city that was Waterdeep every time you ran any sort of errand – so you weren’t particularly concerned with getting lost.

Allowing your thoughts to return to Gale, you reminded yourself that you weren’t really lying to him. You definitely weren’t going to the garden, but you still planned on harvesting plants. You’d known him for almost a year and a half, and you knew the gist of what he’d been through, what with his mentorship from Mystra herself – which was so cool, and he was way too casual about it – and his strange appetite thanks to the Netherese orb that had become one with him. All that aside, however, you didn’t know many details about his past. For as chatty and sarcastic as he was, you couldn’t shake the feeling he had a good number of secrets he withheld from you, and big ones at that.

Of course, Gale was entitled to his privacy, and you didn’t want to intrude or push his boundaries, but it was impossible to ignore the signs of unease. His constantly drifted mind, his long breaks between lessons, his increasingly frequent requests. Or the way that he’d direct you to read a passage from some folktale or other, only to remain silent for several moments after you finish, gazing longingly past his balcony. He’d been consuming more artifacts than usual recently, and gained a sudden eagerness to push real world practice into your schedules. Not that you minded the inflow of new information, but it didn’t seem to come from a place of excitement. Instead, you figured anxiety; judging based off of the common rapid bouncing of his leg, the messy-and-messier spread of his books and trinkets – especially when compared to how well-kept the place always was whenever you’d started working under him – or his new tendency to forget what he had and hadn’t asked of you, or which lessons he’d already covered, or hell, where he had last placed his staff.

Well, what better way to get someone to open up and relax than with a hand-picked bouquet and some herbal tea?

Even if he didn’t spill his guts to you, he certainly needed a pick-me-up. Sure, you already did a lot for him, but he did a lot for you, too. Maybe even more than he realized. He deserved a treat.

– – –

“Though it may be bold of me to say, I estimate they’ll be a fine caster someday.”

“Bold indeed, Mr. Dekarios. Awfully bold. They quite nearly began trembling at the idea of a mere fire bolt!” The small beast chirped back, seated firmly atop his desk, pawing at a small fuzzy ball that swung from a thin string, easily entertained by the simple contraption.

“Even I stumbled; all beginners do. Time is all they need. ‘Time heals all wounds’, is that not how the scriptures read?” He asked, sticking his tongue out and running the tip of a long harpy feather over it.

As he dipped that same tip in a vial half-filled with a thick, clear liquid, Tara quickly outstretched a wing, the end of it not-so-accidentally hitting her companion in the face. The startle nearly caused him to knock over the bottle of magic ink, his torso leaning forward as he just barely managed to steady it with both hands, and he glared at his familiar out of the corner of his eye. She merely stretched out her other wing, feigning obliviousness before eventually looking back at him. “You are still the same fool who summoned me all those years ago. You are a prodigy, Mr. Dekarios! You were half their age then; to compare your ‘stumbles’ to the incompetence of a commoner such as them is exhaustively inconceivable.”

“Tara, I implore you to exercise patience. They are a fine apprentice, and they certainly have the potential for brilliance. Am I not a competent mentor?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, intending the question to be at least somewhat thought-provoking, but the only reaction he received was Tara turning her head away and murmuring something too quiet for Gale to hear. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he knew her well enough to predict it was something snarky, and he didn’t bother investigating. He dipped the large quill again, unable to recall if he’d already wet the tool, and the liquid dripped off of the tip, shimmering in the glint of the fading sun as it rejoined the rest contained in the bottle. “Why is it that you repudiate all of their attempts to bond with you? Surely you don’t think them ill-mannered?”

“‘Ill-mannered’, he says,” she mocks, her tail flicking in irritation. “It is not their civilities that I have quarrels with. It is the expectations I deplore.”

“Expectations?” Gale repeats, his palm flattening against his desk, pressing out the sides of a contorted scroll, the tip of the feather hovering over the yellowed paper.

After solving her own deliberation, the tressym turns around, her wings folding against her sides, her tail curling around her paws. “Have you no fear that your confidence is misplaced? Mr. Dekarios, do you not worry that they may fall short in your plans for them? That they are not up to the task you have decided to burden them with?”

Gale’s irritated gaze softens, his hand relaxing, coming to join his other hand in resting on the desk. The clear liquid on the quill drips onto the parchment, becoming a black dot in an instant, the weave-infused iridescent ink soaking seamlessly into the paper. “I fear nobody could ever truly be capable. But my options are limited, and my few select choices are each disheartening in their own cruel ways.”

“Evidently, you have already made up your mind. Why is it that you allow them to remain oblivious? You know better than anyone how dire the circumstances are.” Tara’s paws slide forward, her belly laying flat on the desk, and she plants her head atop of her mitts.

Gale moves his hand, letting the paper curl up without the weight, to gently scratch Tara’s head, her pitying purr drawing a sigh from his own chest. “I am but a ticking time bomb. Hardly much of a man these days,” he chuckles dryly, looking around the dust-riddled mess that he still called a study. It would be nothing short of anarchy if it weren’t for his apprentice, and he’s seen it in far worse shape, but it doesn’t quite shake the quiet guilt that rocks in his stomach at just how far he’s fallen. Gale is usually quick to excuse his carelessness as an incurable consequence of his age, but he’s well-aware that his energy is not merely being lost alongside his youth.

The artifacts he consumes have only ever satiated a part of the orb’s appetite. Never quite satisfied – a commonly reoccurring trait of those Gale finds himself engaging with – the sortilege feeds off of him as well. The incantations he recites and the thaumaturgy he practices only grows stronger – more powerful than Gale could have ever predicted or wished for – while his body withers away as though his very anatomy is actively being shredded, and relentlessly so, to make room for spells that he now dreads casting.

It doesn’t help that his learned reliance was only ripped away from him when he truly needed assistance. When the man who once considered himself the smartest in all of Faerun was clueless about his own condition, the only person who could possibly have the answers disappeared.

Now, Gale was left to clean up the pieces. He understands this is his own doing – that he was, and still is, a fool. Once blinded by greed, a greed that led him to being blinded by love, a love that led him to being blinded by desperation, a desperation that led to him being trapped by fear. A fear that now has settled, more or less. Present as ever, but no longer unfamiliar, no longer a new addition to Gale’s emotions.

His hand returns to the paper, and Tara steadies her sights on the bottom of the quill, watching as it twirls, imprinting promises and bittersweet apologies onto the scroll. Words he couldn’t possibly utter aloud, but words that couldn’t be more genuine. The recipient deserves more than a written explanation and cursive laments, and he’s aware of the injustice he’s manufacturing, but he is a terribly faded man who is cursed by a deficiency in time and yet finds himself with so much left to do. He decides it is better a raven on her doorstep than his ghost, lacking any explanation.

Each day, he wakes to find his chest a little warmer, his hands a little shakier, his hair a little thinner. And each day feels like his last. He is entirely helpless to the foe that resides inside of him, of all places. Incapable of defending against something that has already breached his castle walls, and even more useless as it has latched under his skin, reducing him to nothing more than a habitat. He hosts an aberration that has grown far, far too large for its enclosure, and who threatens to rupture its cage with every breath that he dares to draw.

He’s held out for long enough. He’s lived longer than he ever imagined possible, but he knows his limits. The truth stings in places untouched by the Netherese’s reaches; his forced composure starts an ache in his face, but he knows better. With a sharp inhale, Gale rolls up the paper, setting down the large brown feather as he retrieves a thin, fraying string, tightly wrapping the letter up. He even finishes it off with a neat bow, a force of habit, and he sets it aside, leaning back in his chair.

The moon is just barely visible now, approaching the stars and creeping over the mild coverage of the stone railings on his balcony, and the wizard watches the white giant rise. Some unburied, deep sense of longing reflects in his eyes, where the moon also resides, though she is much smaller and much dimmer. There’s movement on the desk, but Gale’s eyes aren’t yet drawn away from the beauty of the night. Then there’s a weight in his lap, and a purring against his stomach, and he lowers his hand to rest on Tara’s back, gently stroking, enjoying the silent tranquility.

‘Mystra’s moon’ he used to call it. He’d tell her he could see her in the shadowed curves, but he isn’t sure if he ever really did. Maybe in a dream, long lost to him now. The moon that watched over him tonight was certainly not Mystra’s. It was bright, encasing the room in a beautiful blue, and the gaze it returned was a soft one. Free of judgment, free of stress, free of difficulty.

“I reckon I’ll be up there soon,” he exhales, feeling his familiar curl up in his lap. “Ruling my own section of sky. Perhaps I’ll even have purpose. I can’t help but wonder what it’s like.”

“Peaceful, I suspect. An eternity of peace, at that. What a prospect.”

“You’ll join me some day?”

The feline purrs out a quiet chuckle, her tail curling around her body so the tip rests on her nose, bundled perfectly atop his thighs. “Of course. I can only go so long without a self-warming bed.”

Gale smiles, his hand falling still on her back, though his thumb continues to run up and down her fur. “Give them a chance, will you? They can’t do it without guidance.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Tara reassures, her tone much softer now than when she spoke of his apprentice earlier. “Do wait for me up there. I’ll be by your side before long, Mr. Dekarios.”

“I set out tomorrow night. I’ll inform them of what they need to know.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #gale dekarios x reader #gale bg3 x reader #gale dekarios angst #gale bg3 angst #gale dekarios x reader angst #tara the tressym

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wuxiaphoenix · 4 months ago

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On Writing: Seeds of a Plot

One reason I have a hard time taking a lot of post-apocalyptic scenarios seriously is they often assume that of course anyone can get a survival garden started.

...I’m sure a lot of you are already groaning, because not so much. For example, how do you sprout amaryllis seeds? (Something I actually have managed.)

First, you need a blooming amaryllis. See bulbs, forcing.

Then you need to pollinate it; fingertip to pollen to pistil generally works. Yes, it helps if you know basic flower parts. Amaryllis will generally self; as in self-pollinate, taking pollen from the same plant, sometimes even the same flower. Other plants, like many pear trees and blueberry bushes, are not so easy; they want pollen from an unrelated plant or nothing grows. And then there are plants like gingko biloba and various wild strawberry species where some plants only produce male flowers, and some only female. Plants are complicated.

Assume the cross takes and you get a small green seed pod. Then you have to wait, patiently, for the pod to grow to full size. Cut it green, and all your work is wasted.

Once the pod starts to brown, you have to watch it. The object is to get the seeds to maximum ripeness; when the pod’s split just a little. It takes less than a day to go from just splitting to wide open and all your seeds blew away on the wind.

The seeds should be dark, papery, and translucent with a more opaque spot a bit off-center that’s the actual embryo. And here’s where the not-obvious part comes in.

Get a wide saucer of water. (I happen to know a classic goldfish bowl works fine, likewise the saucer for holding a plant.) Float the seeds on top.

What the amaryllis seems to want is a flood to carry its seeds days away, and leave them sprouting on damp soil. So float the seeds until they have tiny green straps of leaves, then press the rootlet very gently into dampened potting soil. Proceed as with any tender seedling.

Which means at this point you have to worry about fungus, herbivores, stray cats that can’t resist pulling up something green and grasslike....

Entire books can be, and have been, written on how to save, store, and sprout your own seeds. Every plant has its own preferences for how hot, cold, dry, damp, or deep its seeds should be. Some plants even produce different kinds of seeds. There are species of violets that produce flowers you can see, spreading out-crossed seeds over the surface - but they also produce underground flowers that self and “plant” the resulting seeds to take advantage of conditions right there.

“Just plant a garden to survive.” There’s no just about it.

So if you want someone gardening in the apocalypse, at least throw in a line or two about how much they need to know to do it!

#creative writing #worldbuilding

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sometimes-love-is-enough · 1 year ago

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Syzygy: Some Closing Thoughts

I'm writing this at 8pm on my backyard porch, under the wavering light of a distant full moon. Hello, moon! Please don't kidnap me. I just wanted to hang out with you for a while as I collect my final thoughts. It's a pretty cloudy night tonight, so it's not properly visible, which I suppose is the cloud cover shielding me from a terrible lunar fate. It gives a deliciously hazy atmosphere for the absolute essay I'm about to write.

Apparently, the Farmer's Almanac says that tonight's full moon is a 'Pink Moon', which sounds like it'd be a very pleasant viewing experience. I imagine pastel frangipanis spontaneously sprouting all over the moon's surface, covering every inch of its rocks and crags until the soft pink glow is visible from all the way down here on Earth. Unfortunately it's not named 'Pink Moon' because of that; there's some American environmental factors, etc.

I think it's kind of charming that there's a list of names for every possible full moon, as if the moon's putting on different masks or incarnations every time it tilts just enough that we can see its full face. I'm looking at a list of them now instead of writing these final notes like I probably should. The names are so delightful. Strawberry Moon. Sturgeon Moon. Apparently last month's full moon was Worm Moon. WORM MOON. I could go on. I won't. Let's talk about Syzygy instead.

Syzygy is... Man, where do I even start with this? Let's try the beginning. I started writing Syzygy in February of 2021, after ruminating on it for probably a few months before that, as I often do. That's three years ago, so my memories of the reasons why are a bit fuzzy, but I think I did it for two reasons: one, a desire to have a long-form meaty slowburn fic for a beloved rarepair in the tag so other people could enjoy it, and two, a fascination with the idea of fractured identity, what it means to be a Side without a Centre. The whole thing with the alternate-history steampunk swapped-around Earth came about naturally from that.

Except that's actually kind of a lie, because that's not the beginning, this began in 2020, when I wrote a pitch for a local station that was accepting radio play submissions (rejected, of course) featuring a hardboiled noir detective in a starlit city whose latest client was a tiny shiny girl asking him to solve her father's murder. And that's also a lie, because I think it really began when I tried to write an original novel in high school where the protagonist's name was Avery Allen, because I liked the way the name tripped off my lips.

My stories are always built on each other, especially stories I never get to write. They all recycle into each other in a weird blend of concepts and characters. 2021 was when I sat down and told myself I was going to write the Thomceit time loop fic, and I dove into it with aplomb. I can't recall the exact timeline of events, but at some point I underwent some truly gnarly health problems that left me unable to use my hands for extended periods of time, and so the fic that was meant to be for a Big Bang ended up... Just sitting in a folder for a while. But me and my beta managed to pull it the fuck together, and after adding some extra bits and pieces (the cutaways were a LAST MINUTE ADDITION even though I think they're some of my favorite bits in the whole thing) I started putting it all up.

Okay, there we go, that's enough of an abridged history of this thing. Let's just say: I never expected as many people to like it as it turned out, I thought that it would be a niche little fic for a rarepair, and I was honestly pretty content with that. So it was delightful to see so many people getting so into it, I have enjoyed the FUCK out of all of your comments and theories and predictions. It's been delightful when people predicted a plot point correctly, and honestly even more delightful when they predicted incorrectly. I've had such a blast.

As for the writing... Suffice to say I have many notebooks full of notes and thoughts, more than one spreadsheet to keep track of time loops and lore, and a semi-complete list of all of Virgil's tarot cards, which one day I'll probably polish and share properly, because I think the concept is neat. But that's kind of how it always goes with my writing.

Naming every inspiration for this would take forever and I'd still miss a few, but I'll just throw out a key few ones, because I gotta:

17776: What Will Football Look Like In The Future, because when I first read it I got the wrong idea and thought that Juice (Jupiter Icy Moons Explorer) was short for Betelgeuse (the star), and that sparked a whole thing about living stars in my brain. Also, just the general way that the worldbuilding and absurdity is handled in that world, it scratches my brain just right.

Welcome To Night Vale. I don't think I need to explain this one.

Madeleine L'Engle's writing, particularly A Wind In The Door, particularly-particularly the bit of it where Proginoskes explains why, precisely, he has to remember and Name every star in the universe. Fucking beautiful book.

A particular Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi fic I read years ago and haven't been able to track down again, which also features two people stuck in a time loop who are initially unaware that they're in it together AND dying at the same time. I believe they also meet on a bus? The details are fuzzy. The worldbuilding and descriptions of that fic were so stunning to me, it had me unable to read anything for a solid few weeks, it is definitely a superior work to mine in every respect. If anyone finds it, let me know, I don't think I finished reading it and want to know how it ends.

An unpublished fic that I had the privilege to read while it was being written, that changed my brain chemistry re: the Sides unknowingly existing without Thomas. The Flowerwall Cafe originally hails from this one, too, graciously borrowed and greatly beloved.

Both Ghibli films in general AND Dianna Wynne Jones books in general, and obviously the intersection between the two, Howl's Moving Castle, which is fascinating in how both mediums handle the setting.

The Doctor Who audio drama Scherzo, which is a wild ride, and there's a major plot point revolving around the two main characters holding hands and fusing gruesomely into each other - and another involving an in-story fairy tale.

There was no huge inspiration for the clockwork city and weird steampunk carriages, apart from (perhaps) Fallen London. Certainly, the idea of a background organization that wants to kill the sun, who also happens to be a sentient being, is cribbed from the Liberation of Night.

Syzygy also happens to be packed full of many obscure references to... like... personal projects of mine, some published and some unpublished, as well as a lot of my friends and co-writers, and some really REALLY niche stuff that only I will ever properly understand. I buried a lot of myself into this story, is what I'm saying. Juice hails from a completely different project (a TTRPG with my friends, of which she is a beloved and cherished NPC), the in-universe author for Avery Allen (and Mallory Wynn too) are named for a fictional TV author I created when the writing discord was making a nonexistent fandom, Logan's dumpling recipe is my favorite recipe of all time.

I have an apartment ghost, too. I talk to it regularly.

Final thank-yous, because I want to post this very very soon, I've been typing for too long and the mosquitoes are starting to get to me. Thank you to:

Everyone on the TSS writing server who listened to me complain while I was writing it the first time round, and has subsequently listened to me complain while editing it these past two years. So many people in there are responsible for little bits and pieces - phrasings, words, nicknames, jokes - and I couldn't begin to name everyone who helped.

Saphira and the rest of the people who are currently working on making a full-cast audio drama out of this fic (???) (???!!!!??) (!!!!). It is SO baffling to me that it's happening, I'm in complete disbelief whenever we talk about it or I see the script or I get asked logistics questions, I'm terrified and thrilled to see how it turns out, what the fuck! The very existence of that project has ended up influencing a few things about this fic's endgame, too.

Everyone who's commented extensively, commented entire academic analyses, commented numbered lists, commented laconically, left a single emoji in the comments, left kudos, bookmarked it, sent me asks on Tumblr, given me thumbs-ups on Discord, or even just silently read the fic without interacting at all. Your witness brings my words to existence. Love you love you love you.

And Len, who lives in my brain and my body and my heart and my throat, and who is honestly singlehandedly responsible for dragging this fic out of the depths of Google Docs and into the arms of AO3. They've already said I don't need to thank them, but come on, I totally do. Len is the best beta, and puts up with all sorts of deranged nonsense from me, because I have an unhinged writing process where I don't think about anything before I put it down on the page, and I use way too many connecting-dashes and not enough semicolons. Kisses kisses kisses. Thanks for doing this with me, and I can't wait to do it again.

Myself. I managed to write this and I managed to finish it. That makes me a pretty cool person, all things considered. I'm glad I did this.

What next? I've got to rest. Well, I need to get some things done... and then rest. I've been juggling a hellish amount of projects for a while now, and now Syzygy's finally cleared from my plate, I'm going to try to let the others get cleared too so I can take some time and be less stressed. The Locked Tomb AU will be ongoing, as I get through final edits of chapters, so keep an eye out for that - if you're interested in a fic that's rather less starry and shiny, but very much Thomceit and death themes, check it out - and then....... Well, whatever comes next, whenever I have the energy to do it. I adore writing in this fandom. I'll be back with something weird soon enough.

Ad astra, baby! It's been a blast.

- Min (2024)

#Syzygy #author's note

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eclipsewarrior101 · 2 months ago

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Dandy’s World Second Chances Au

Plot: A group of humans bought Gardenview and after finding out what horrors happened is doing what they can to help these toons. Will they succeed

( Please Note this au is still being developed. It’s not 100% figures out. )

-Points to make

Thanks to an idea of @maschroom12 there will a medic and scientist who are helping the ‘Twisted’ toons.

There will be a few twisted toons but they will be feral but not 100%.

The toons will be at a range of feral but it’s more like a scared abused animal.

The humans try to get the toons to trust them slowly. It will take time

You can talk to the toons but please be aware they might act aggressive or be wary.

There will be a team of 6 humans:

Phylicia: the manager

Tom: the medic

Nicole: scientist

Charlotte: therapist

Lucy: mechanic

Chris: teacher

Toons not twisted.

Astro

Boxten

Brightney

Connie

Cosmo

Finn

Gigi

Looney

Poppy

Pebbles

Rodger

Scraps

Shrimpo

Shelly

Sprout

Teagan

Tisha

Twisted Toons:

Dandy

Flutter

Glisten

Goob

Razzle n Dazzle

Toodles

Vee

You can send questions or ask people questions but please be aware this is a work in progress.

Hope to see you soon 😊

( also. Small note, not all toons will be important or used in this au. No of every no anyone I’ll be overwhelmed if I use all toons)

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queen-scribbles · 7 months ago

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smooth sailing

25. Smooth (pre-WotR; Trinne backstory)

This part of the house was empty now, had been for a few months. Made it a good place to come and think, or just enjoy the quiet. Trinne needed that today. Her thoughts were still a tangle over recent familial developments and if she had to hide in her sister's old rooms to process them, so be it.

She meandered through the practice room, past the sheet-shrouded harp, her fingers trailing the smooth marble-top table by the balcony doors. A breeze ruffled her hair as she opened the doors and stepped out, leaning against the railing. She'd always envied the view Simone had from here, maybe once the weirdness of her being gone had worn off, she could--

"Already plotting to steal my room?"

Trinne flinched, barking her knuckles on the rail as she spun around. "Simone?!"

Her older sister grinned, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe, glint of gold and amethyst on her finger. "Miss me, sprout?"

Trinne rolled her eyes. "Told you not to call me that. An' you've barely been gone two months, that's not enough time to miss you."

(Yes, it was.)

"Ow." Simone was still grinning, despite the complaint. "Maybe you missed me a little?"

"Maybe a little," Trinne said, faux-grudging and shaking out her sore knuckles as she crossed to hug her sister. "Did you have a good honeymoon? See anything cool? Most important" --she smiled winningly, arms around Simone's waist-- "did you bring me anything?"

Simone rolled her eyes and laughed. "Funny, that was Vera's chief interest, too. But she's six. Little more understandable than when you're fourteen," she teased, mussing Trinne's hair.

Trinne yelped and ducked back. "Hey, I had other questions, too! It's not the only thing I care about."

"Well, then, in order: yes, I had a good honeymoon, and I don't think you want me to elaborate further, we did see several cool things, but I'd rather tell everyone at the same time. And..." she held out a small velvet pouch that had been curled in her hand until now, "we did get you something."

"Ooo!" Trinne just managed to not snatch the pouch in her excitement, loosening the drawstring to empty the contents, a necklace, into her palm. "It's so pretty!"

The pendent was a dark bluish-grey pebble, flat and polished glass-smooth, almost twice the size of her thumbnail. A delicate silver setting had been carefully mounted on one end to connect it to the chain.

"One of the islands we visited has tidal pools around most of the coast. The ocean coming in and out but being somewhat calmed by the pools wears all the rocks extremely smooth," Simone explained. "And because of the pools, the smaller ones don't always gets washed back out. The locals make them into jewelry. I thought you'd like that, since you enjoy traveling as much as I do."

"I love it, thank you!" Trinne effused, slipping on the necklace. She rubbed the pendent between her fingers, marveling at the silky smoothness, the thready white line that crawled through the center.

"You're welcome. It's supposedly lucky, too," Simone winked. "Safe travels and smooth sailing. Guess you'll have to convince Da to take you on one of his trips to test it out."

She grinned back. "Guess I will. So, how long're you visiting?"

"Rest of the day while our ship resupplies," Simone said, teasing glint in her eyes. "Might spend the night if my little sister doesn't have designs on my bedroom."

"Hey, you can watch the Wittens' peacocks from your balcony," Trinne defended, her neck warming. You caught me.

"You can also hear them from here," Simone deadpanned. "You want to deal with that racket in the barely-tolerable hours of the morning, you can tell Mum and Da to switch our rooms. You have my blessing, sprout."

Trinne bit down the instinctive protest of the nickname and hugged her sister again. "You're the best, Sim. Now," she let go and grabbed Simone's hand to start dragging her out of the room. "I wanna hear about where you went and what you saw, let's get everyone together!"

Once the family was gather, Trinne sat and listened with rapt attention to the recounting of everywhere Simone and her husband had gotten to see, fingers rubbing her new necklace as she hoped she'd get to do the same someday.

#queens fic #owlcatober 2024 #WHOOPS almost forgot #but it's still technically the 25th in my timezone lol #trinne amell #woth #pathfinder wotr

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saralovesyouu · 10 months ago

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Chapter 6 — “Is it really you?”

Summary: After finally finding Mitsuba, all hell breaks loose. Between fighting Hanako though failing miserably and replacing the Hell of Mirrors No. 3 of the Seven Mysteries, but that isn’t half of the chaos just waiting to unfold.

( A / N ) : I can’t believe it’s been so long since Act I was released. I really liked working on it and lately I just didn’t have the time or motivation to start Act II, but I’m using every small break and rest time that I have to write this. :> I hope you guys like it!! Also from the middle of Act II to the and of Act IV, it’s going to go waaay off plot and onto a different plot that I thought of. I lost my original ideas for all the acts so I’m trying to remember bits and pieces and work from there to remember the rest. So far so good!

Prev. >>> Next

Kou luckily rushed in front of you before Tsukasa could get any closer, but you wish he hadn’t. It’s hopeless, but if you were any stronger than that deathly apparition, you would’ve killed him a second time. After assuring himself that Tsukasa wouldn’t attack if he turned his back on him, he whipped around to check if you’re okay.

“Are you okay (Y/N)? Did he hurt you?” Kou worries, checking your arms and legs—you’re like his little sister after all.

“N-No,” you managed to choke out, trying both not to throw up and cry at the same time “..Kou, I—“ you hiccuped.

“It’s okay, I’m here now.” He assured.

“Kou,” you tried to make your tone sound stern, but with the tremors in your voice that was near impossible. “Behind you.” You just barely managed to croak out.

Reluctantly, Kou turned behind him.

And what he saw shocked him.

No, even shocked is an understatement.

There wasn’t any words to describe the feelings he was feeling. Relief? Guilt? Happiness? Distress? No, it was all of them. A wave of emotions crashing down onto him and he was almost scared he would drown in them.

“You..” he paused, dropping his staff which he held in his hand and standing up “..how are.. but I thought you were gone for good.” Kou’s usually confident voice seemed to tremble.

“Mitsuba.” He called out, still in disbelief. “You’re really okay? You’re not hurt or anything, are you?” He reached for him, but Mitsuba seemed to flinch away. Kou didn’t notice though “Huh?” He then reached for Mitsuba’s hand “Why is your hand like that? What’s wrong?”

“What happened to you.”

“Uh..” Mitsuba didn’t know whether to feel awkward or uncomfortable. ‘Who is he?’ He wondered to himself.

Hanako pursed his lips, sensing some was amiss. His eyes expertly scanned the room for anything that looked even slightly out of place.

Well, No. 3’s dead body on the floor was an obviously noticeable sign.

Hanako’s eyes widened and he sighs “Is that.. Don’t tell me.” He had to make sure, narrowing his eyes down at the corpse. He looked back at Mitsuba, and he froze.

“Kid, get back!” He warns.

Kou looked confused, turning his head to glance at Hanako over his shoulder.

Large arm-like structures seemed to sprout from behind Mitsuba. Trying to attack Kou, or at least that’s what it seemed as they thrashed around.

Mitsuba flinched, shaking his head. “No, no! I’m scared.”

Your eyes widened. You always hated seeing Mitsuba cry back when he was alive, him being dead didn’t change a thing. “Help me.” Mitsuba whimpered, shutting his eyes closed tightly. And covering his head with his hands.

You got up on your shaky legs, with the intention of going to comfort Mitsuba, but you tripped over your own feet and stumbled back to the ground. Which was very lucky for you.

One of the arms, threw itself in Kou’s direction, which if you hadn’t fallen back down; you would’ve gotten hit. Hanako stepped in, slashing at the arm with his butcher’s knife. Pieces of the arm shattered and scattered around the floor.

“You okay kid?” Hanako asked, to which Kou nodded.

“Uh.. uh-huh.” Kou confirms, pursing his lips as he looked at what looked to be Mitsuba.

The cluttered pieces trembled, inching closer to each other till they reformed, standing tall behind Hanako.

You couldn’t warn them, your throat felt too tight. But for some reason, as you glanced at Mitsuba’s usually confident rose-colored eyes, you could see he was really scared. He wasn’t trying to hurt them on purpose, it was almost like an impulse.

“Watch out, behind you!” Kou gasped as he saw the hand getting ready to slam down on both of them to hopefully crush them underneath it.

Hanako whipped back around, ready to attack but instead of hitting him, it grabbed him. The hand was so big, Hanako looked like a plush in its palm. Thankfully he was only stunned for a moment, quickly breaking out of its grip. He smirked “He’s surprisingly quick.”

THUD!

One of the arms had unexpectedly slammed Hanako into the wall “Wha..?” He gasped, clearly caught off guard.

“Hanako!” Kou panicked, failing to notice the hand creeping behind him and slamming him down into the ground.

“KID?!” Hanako yelps, wincing as he saw the force of the hands attack.

Surprisingly, they didn’t seem to be attacking you. More like they were avoiding you, scared to touch you—almost like they were scared they might hurt you.

“Uh..” Mitsuba’s anxiety only seemed to get worse “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He panicked hands gripping onto his hair “Stop it.”

“Mitsubaa..”

Oh no. Not that voice again.

Just hearing his voice made anger bubble up in you, and knowing there was nothing you could do about it only made it worse.

“Did you finish eating?” Tsukasa asked with a smile only that of an innocent child would bare, but he was far from it. He sat perched up on the railing-like structure above the mirror behind Mitsuba. He jumped down.

“Uhh..” Mitsuba trailed, you didn’t miss how he didn’t seem to tense or freeze around him now like he did then.

Just what did he do to him?

Mitsuba then stood up up, scrambling to hide behind him like a scared puppy would.

“Hm?” Tsukasa hummed, glancing over his shoulder to look at Mitsuba who was trembling behind him “Oh?”

“What..” Hanako froze up, in what looked like fear, no. What was it? “What are you doing here, Tsukasa?”

Tsukasa turned to look at Hanako, and when he saw him he instantly beamed. “Aaah!” He squealed, rushing over to him with quick steps “Long time no see!” He giggled, hugging Hanako tightly, clinging onto him like how a koala would. “Amane!”

“Just wait a second!” Hanako yelps as he nearly stumbled back from the force of his brother’s embrace “Come on Tsukasa, listen to—“ he didn’t get the chance to speak.

“Amane, Amane!” Hanako’s words only went through one ear and out the other, Tsukasa listened to none of it.

Tsukasa looked so innocent, almost childlike. Which made you think, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was innocent too.

The hand whipped around to shove them tossing them across the room.

Tsukasa was somehow flipped upside down, sliding down the wall “Oof—“

Hanako groans, but let his pain last only a second before standing upright again. “H-Here it comes again!” He warns.

Tsukasa frowns, groaning in annoyance, “You’re getting in the way.” It doesn’t take him that long to stand up again, and not upside down, effortlessly dodging the arms that would swing at him with ease.

Suddenly, as another arm reached to attack him, Tsukasa quickly grabbed it, also holding another that was sneaking up on him nearby “Mitsuba..” he sighs, almost like a disappointed mother would to a child.

“What.. what’re those?!” Mitsuba panics, “W-What’s happening?” He whimpers, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Now, now,” Tsukasa smiles, leaning forward to wrap an arm around Mitsuba, “there, there.”

Mitsuba flinched, but then relaxed in Tsukasa’s hold.

You wanted so badly to push him away from Mitsuba, but you could only stay frozen in both fear and shock.

“These things’re here to protect you,” Tsukasa assured him “Calm down so you can keep them under control, okay?”

“O-Okay.” Mitsuba sniffled, using his sleeve to rid his eyes of tears, taking a deep breath “..okay.” He mumbled, hugging Tsukuba to comfort himself.

“There we go.. just like that.” Tsukasa whispered, rubbing his hand up and down Mitsuba’s back “Very good.”

“Hey,” Kou spoke through gritted teeth “Damn it! What the hell did you do to Mitsuba this time?”

“Oh?” Tsukasa mused, a smirk gracing his lips. He glanced over his shoulder to look at Kou, almost as if to mock him.

“I granted his wish.”

“You didn’t grant his wish, you did the complete opposite!” You choked, getting up on trembling feet. “He just wanted a friend, and he had two right with him, but you just tore it all away.” You tried taking deep breaths, but it helped nothing. “You made him people fear him, how is that granting his wish?” You scoffed, glaring at the ghost with teary eyes.

Tsukasa frowns “But I did grant his wish.” He insisted crossing his arms over his chest “And the price of that wish was his mind, in other words, a part of his soul.” He explained, but still, it didn’t seem right at all. “When you last saw me,”

The memory alone made you feel sick to your stomach, your hands immediately flying to clutch your stomach and to hold your mouth. You didn’t even want to remember it, the squelching sound that sounded like it tore through human flesh even though Mitsuba was a ghost, the sick look in Tsukasa’s eyes. No, you can’t throw up here, not now.

“I removed a part of his soul; his mind.” Tsukasa’s lips then twitched up into a smile “The rest is simple!”

“I collected low level spirits that were already fading away and used them to make a spirit body.” Tsukasa patted Mitsuba’s head, ruffling his hair. “Then I added the piece of Mitsuba’s soul to it!” He then grabbed his shoulders, patting them. “And then, all done!” He giggled like a boasting child who just finished all his chores.

“It has the same soul at its core, so it probably looks and acts just like him.” Tsukasa continued to explain “But this is something totally different! I mean, of course it is.” He looked at Mitsuba, then directly at you “The Sousuke Mitsuba who lived and sided as a human..”

“Doesn’t exist anywhere in this world anymore.”

Tsukasa then looked back at Mitsuba “But the weird thing is.. because of that, he should have no recollection of his past life. Or even when I collected his mind that day. Yet it’s like you’re now engraved in his memory.” He mumbled, it was barely audible to anyone except for the ones who stood close to him. Like you and Mitsuba.

Part of that reassured you, but it wasn’t enough to cover up the fact that what he did was still as sick and unforgivable as before.

“Why?” Kou spoke again, his hands were balled into fists and trembled at his sides. “Why would you do that? It’s your fault Mitsuba is gone in the first place.”

“Hm?” Tsukasa’s amber eyes wandered the room, as if he was seriously thinking about it. “Just because, I guess? I’ve always wanted to try making one.”

“An artificial human.”

You all stood there in disbelief, and his words only proved to further anger you. He has no right to be talking about Mitsuba as if he were nothing but an experiment, a test subject.

Even Hanako was shocked. “What..” he mumbled.

“Amane and I saw one a looong time ago.” Tsukasa beams, “There was a movie with an artificial human that attacked everyone!” He giggled. “Oh.. but this..” he then looked down at Mitsuba, placing his hand on his head “This is a ghost huh? So I guess it’s an artificial ghost then, huh? I didn’t count on it being such a weakling that it can’t exist in the mortal world, though.” he moved so he was now holding Mitsuba’s head against his shoulder, propping his chin atop his head. “Pretty cool, right?”

Kou suddenly slammed his staff into the wall next to Tsukasa, it stabbed into the wall. Mitsuba flinched at the noise but Tsukasa remained as calm as ever—completely unfazed.

“You creep.” Kou scoffed, in all you’ve known Kou, you never saw him this angry. “You’ve got to be kidding me..” his shoulders were trembling, his hand whipped up to grip the menacing ghost boy’s uniform.

“Hm?”

“Mitsuba, he isn’t..” Kou choked “He isn’t your toy!”

There was this unsettling look in Tsukasa eyes as he said that, and he tilted his head “So..” he looked back at Mitsuba who was now sitting on ground behind him. “You’re saying I shouldn’t have made this thing?”

“He’s not a thing, he’s his own person!” You finally managed to shout “Dead or not, he should still have a say on how he wants to spend his time in the afterlife!”

Tsukasa only brushed you off, taking Mitsuba by the hands. And suddenly, they were gone.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room, and you found them floating not too far away — a few floors up.

Mitsuba yelped, clearly panicked. But it made you wonder.. he’s a ghost too, can’t he float?

“Don’t worry Mitsuba,” Tsukasa’s voice was gentle, like a child’s “I don’t hate you!” He beams.

“Waaa!” Mitsuba looks from Tsukasa to the ground that looked so far below them. “I’m gonna fall, I’m gonna fall!” He cried, clinging to Tsukasa.

“So, Mitsuba.” Tsukasa didn’t care to calm him down, letting the boy cling to him. “You’re just a baby with only one memory.. but no powers or anything else. Nothing.” He smiles down at Mitsuba “But now you have No. 3’s core inside you, now you do have power.”

“What do you wanna do?”

The question should’ve been heartwarming, to Mitsuba’s ears it was but it somehow planted an unsettling feeling in your gut.

“Do you wanna let them take your new power from you and just disappear?” Tsukasa’s gaze didn’t falter, staring straight into his eyes. Mitsuba flinched at those words, and it also scared you. You didn’t think you could go through losing him again. “Or do you wanna take School Mystery No. 3’s seat and become the ruler of this boundary? Tell me,”

“What do you want, Mitsuba.”

Everyone stood frozen in shock, anticipating his reply.

“I’ll.. I’ll do it.” Mitsuba’s voice came out trembly, but sure. “I’m not ready to disappear.. not when I still have nothing.” He glanced over to you, and then back at Tsukasa with tears in his eyes. “So if that’s the only option, I’ll be anything! I’ll even be a school mystery if I need to be!” He cried.

Tsukasa smiled eerily “Very good, if that’s what you want, then I will grant your wish.” He looked down at Mitsuba “From this moment on — you are now No. 3 of the school’s Seven Mysteries, Mitsuba.”

Mitsuba beams brightly — so bright it nearly rivaled the sun. “Woah, really? This is so cool!” He laughs.

“Yup, this boundary belongs to you now.” Tsukasa confirms.

You were all for it as long as he wouldn’t disappear again, but at what cost? What was the twist that Tsukasa was hiding? What’s the catch? So many thoughts in your head, you couldn’t help but worry something may go wrong.

“What kind of supernatural do you wanna be?” Tsukasa asks, a smile gracing his features. “You can be aanything!” He giggled, spreading his arms up high to emphasize this.

Mitsuba turned to look down at you, who is looking right back at him with a storm of emotions in your eyes. Relief, disbelief, worry, fear. He smiles at you reassuringly. “Anything?” He echoes.

If it meant he could be with you..

“Then I want to be normal.” Mitsuba uttered softly. “I want to be human again.”

“Can I?”

“Yup, you can.” Tsukasa nodded, holding his hands behind his back as he grinned at the pink-haired boy.

Your heart fluttered. Human, you mean. With us again? The thought of it gave you hope.

“NO!” Hanako’s voice echoed, rattling the entire boundary. It seemed to tremble at the mere force of it.

The haku-joudai’s swirled around the two ghosts, startling Mitsuba — but leaving Tsukasa as calm as ever. Maybe even a little amused.

Both you and Kou exchanged looks, then looked back at Hanako in disbelief.

Hanako pursed his lips, pointing his butcher’s knife at them. “You cannot be allowed to live on the near shore as a human,”

Just that sentence alone made you want to tune everything else into white noise, but it confused you — and even angered you, too.

“And why can he not?” You snapped, finally finding the courage to speak with all the chaos going on.

“Yeah, why can’t he Amane?” Tsukasa mocked in a sing-song voice, folding his arms over Mitsuba’s head and laying his chin on them.

“Because,” Hanako began, clearly frustrated. “A creature that has come to live on the far shore as a supernatural cannot be allowed to live on the near shore as a human!” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Mitsuba, you were ‘born’ a supernatural, which means you cannot be allowed to become human. That seat number is not yours.”

“And I’m taking it back.”

Mitsuba looked down at the four three of them of you as if you guys were only bugs under his shoe. Not with disgust, but with something more. Disappointment? Confusion? Even he couldn’t tell.

“..Mitsuba?” Kou called out to him, his hand tightly wrapped around his staff.

A childlike laughter echoes throughout the room, the sound is bouncing off the walls — Tsukasa’s laughter — is ringing in your ears.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Tsukasa asked with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest “Mitsuba’s pretty powerful now, don’t think he’s the same ghost weakling he was before or SCRUNCH!” He made an effort to clasp his hands together as if crushing something between them. “That’ll be the end of you.” He says with that sickening smile, letting his hands fall back down to his sides. “This boundary belongs to Mitsuba now, in here, no one can beat him!” He cheers, “Go on Mitsuba, scrunch ‘em.”

Except that Mitsuba was now trying to flee.

“Huh?” Tsukasa turns his head around to confirm that Mitsuba was indeed missing. “Mitsuba?” His eyes darted around the room, it didn’t take long for him to find him — Mitsuba couldn’t exactly hide all that well with the mirror’s reflections acting as cameras. “There you are!” He exclaimed, rushing over to him. “What are you doing?” Tsukasa asked, tugging on the hem of Mitsuba’s sleeve.

Mitsuba yelped, “Stay away from me!” He squealed in panic, lowering his voice to a whisper — he continued “What does it look like I’m doing, I’m running away!”

“Why?” Tsukasa insisted, a pout marring his lips.

“Why?!” Mitsuba whisper shouted, pointing his thumb back at Hanako “Look at that guy! He’s got a knife, there’s no way I can beat him!”

His words almost made you laugh if not for the severity of the situation.

“Aww, you’ll be fine!” Tsukasa assures with his signature childish grin, ruffling up Mitsuba’s hair. “Just scrunch him with your new powers!”

“I can’t do that,” Mitsuba whined, swatting his hands away “—don’t be crazy!”

“Come on, come on!” Tsukasa pouted, nudging his shoulder persistently.

“Noo! Nope! I don’t wanna!” Mitsuba was stubborn, he wasn’t as scared of Hanako as he was of Tsukasa, but to him he did look pretty intimidating.

“Uhh..” Hanako trails, freezing momentarily.

“Kind of feels like we’re interrupting something, huh?” You joked with a nervous chuckle, eyes flickering from Mitsuba, to Tsukasa, then to Hanako.

A loud noise — like something hitting flesh — rung in the room making you flinch at the sound. Tsukasa frowned, Mitsuba’s cheek was now reddened “Do it.”

“Eek!” Mitsuba squeaked, backing up and nodding “I will, please let me do it.” He panics as he scrambled back up to his feet. “So uh..” he looks around at the four of you, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than the rest. “Here I go.. you four!” He looks over at you, then at Yashiro “Three? She’s unconscious, so does she count? Uh..” he trails “Right.. I don’t know any of your guys’s names.. besides (Y/N). And that other girl.” He mumbled, perking up after a moment. “Okay, I’ve got it! I’m calling you crazy knife,” he announces, pointing at Hanako “..and you.. hella-lame-traffic-safety earring!” he smirks, then pointing at Kou.

At any other time, Kou would’ve been irked to hear that nickname, but he only flinched. It hurt that Mitsuba didn’t remember him. But before either of you could speak, Hanako spoke up.

“What do you mean ‘crazy knife’?” Hanako frowns, pointing his butcher’s knife at Mitsuba.

“Eep!” Mitsuba squealed, floating backwards. “Don’t point that thing at me!” He glanced back at Tsukasa, who is looking right back at him expectingly. “Anyways, this is my turf now! So I decide whether you live or die!” He stammered, turning back to the four of you.

“Isn’t that a bit dramatic?” You teased, “Oh no, please don’t kill me.”

“(Y/N), this isn’t that time to flirt.” Hanako frowns, looking back at you.

Your cheeks flush. “I-I wasn’t..”

Mitsuba’s cheeks also flushed “Yeah! She wasn’t!” He pouts “But anyways.. if you surrender now, I might let you guys go!” He crosses his arms with a ‘hmph’, turning his head the opposite direction “I’m in a pretty good mood, you know?”

Hanako just pursed his lips, watching Mitsuba with a blank expression. Mitsuba on the other hand stared back at him, and if ghosts could sweat — he would be sweating buckets right now.

“You wanna do this?” Mitsuba finally speaks up, through his voice is a bit shaky “Well if you insist, I’ll use my Seven Mystery.. you know my like.. super-powerful powers!” You could tell he didn’t know at all what he was doing, and although he did technically have all the power to defeat Hanako, he wasn’t at all sure how to make his ‘power’ work. “To.. to do terrible things to you, so go away!”

“Like in porno?” Tsukasa teased, obviously baiting Mitsuba.

“I- uh! Yes! Just like in porno!” Mitsuba exclaimed quite loudly, looking smug as always before the realization of what he just said dawned on him and his cheeks flushed bright red.

“Porno?” Hanako mumbled, moving to wrap his arms protectively around Yashiro.

“Hey! What are you making me say?!” Mitsuba yelped, whipping around to glare at Tsukasa “I will not!”

You couldn’t contain it anymore, bursting into a fit of giggles, holding a hand over your stomach from how hard you were laughing.

Kou began walking towards Mitsuba, and before Mitsuba could register that someoen was behind him, Kou grabbed his arm, and pulled Mitsuba down so now they were eye-to-eye. He frowned.

“Um.. can I help you?” Mitsuba muttered, obvious confusion marred his features.

Kou’s frown deepened, and he looked away — squeezing his arm.

“Just— what? Are you enchanted by adorable visage or something?” Mitsuba mocks, trying not to show his confusion. Kou’s silence only proved to confuse Mitsuba even more. “Come on,” he insisted “—that earring is so lame.” He hoped by mocking him, he would reply — even if it was out of annoyance or frustration. Why wasn’t he talking? And what was up with this kid clinging onto him? Does he know him or something? Mitsuba had opened his mouth to tak again, but Kou beat him to it thankfully this time.

“You..” Kou’s gaze drifted back to the floor. “..you really don’t remember me?”

Mitsuba pursed his lips, he couldn’t help but feel even just a little bad for him. Of course he didn’t remember him, he didn’t even know why he was so hurt by it. Were they friends or something?

“Huh?” Mitsuba raised an eyebrow “What are you talking about, that doesn’t make.. any sense.” He frowned, tugging his arm away from Kou — and instinctively, Kou reached for his arm again.

“Who are you?”

Three words. Three words that stung Kou like needles. He glanced up at Mitsuba, then back down to the floor.

“Are you done?” Mitsuba asked, already starting to feel a bit awkward from the situation. “You’re done, right?” Kou was still not responsive, keeping his gaze on the floor; but he didn’t loosen his grip or even dare look back up at the boy. “Let me go.” Mitsuba frowns, tugging his arm away a second time.

This pulled Kou out of his trance, “Oh..” his eyes immediately darted back up to Mitsuba, and an image of his ghost friend’s old self flickered before him. Hallucination or not, it was enough for Kou to grab onto Mitsuba’s arm a third time. “No,” he stammered “—wait a minute!” This time, he pulled him even closer, his hand coming to grab Mitsuba’s chin, his fingers covering his mouth a bit.

“Ack!” Mitsuba yelped, clearly — and very reasonably — shocked. “What do you want?”

“I am..” Kou looked into Mitsuba’s rose-colored eyes “My name’s Kou Minamoto, remember it, stupid girly face!” He pursed his lips, letting go of Mitsuba. He walked towards one of the mirrors where he had dropped the old gardening club records, picked it up and walked back to Mitsuba to shove it in his arms.

“Huh?” Mitsuba was still clearly confused “What.. what is this?” He frowns.

“Just shut up and take it, fake-nice guy!” Kou spoke through gritted teeth.

“Wha—?” Mitsuba had literally zero idea on what was going on, why you were looking at him expectingly now, why this guy claimed to know him when Mitsuba was sure he’d remember someone as stubborn annoying as the boy who stood in front of him. “I really don’t get what you’re trying to get at! And man is that earring of yours lame..”

“Now, now,” Tsukasa came in between them, pushing them apart; and smacking either one in the face in process of it. “That’s enough of that.”

“Hey—what was that for?!” Kou yelped, pinching the bridge of his nose. It stung a bit.

“You have more important things to do, huh Mitsuba?” Tsukasa smiles, completely ignoring Kou. He grabbed Mitsuba by his shoulders, and guided him so he was right in front of Hanako again. “Here.” He beams, dusting off his shoulders.

Hanako didn’t even do anything, but as soon as he looked up at Mitsuba.

“Noo! Knife!” Mitsuba panics, backing up. He lost control of his arms again, and they whipped at Hanako.

Hanako quickly grabbed Yashiro — and before you could process anything — he shoved you over away from harm, turning to Kou as well “Watch out!” He warned “This is bad..”

“No kidding..” you panted, barely being able to catch yourself from falling.

“Hey Hanako, what do we do?” Kou gasps, just barely able to block the slap of one of the arms with his staff.

“Kid!” Hanako panicked. He pursed his lips, looking down at Yashiro “The thing is, if we want to get the school mystery’s seat number back, we have to destroy the source of power.”

“You mean the yoshiro or whatever?” You ask, one of the arms narrowly missing your legs to trip you up.

“S-Sorry!” Mitsuba yelps, trying to get them under control.

“Yeah! And for some reason, nothings waking her up!” Hanako frowns, gently smacking the girl’s cheeks “Yashiro, wake up!”

“And as for the yoshiro?” Kou asked, looking around.

Your eyes darted to the center of the ceiling. “Yeah, there’s no way we’re reaching that! It’s way up there!”

“So then,” Hanako’s eyes flickered from the yoshiro, then to Yashiro, then back to Mitsuba “—first things first, we’re gonna need to make him behave.” He let go of Yashiro, running off towards Mitsuba.

“Wait, Hanako!” You and Kou both panicked.

In just a blink of an eye, Hanako was right behind Mitsuba, his knife up against the other ghosts’ neck.

“Hanako, stop, what are you doing?” You yelped, rushing to the edge of the railing, there wasn’t much you could do — but you did know you would never forgive Hanako if he hurt Mitsuba.

Kou grabbed your arm, holding you back with him. He was scared too, but he knew Hanako wasn’t going to hurt him.

Mitsuba kept completely still, well, he did — but his arms didn’t. Frantically thrashing around.

“Mitsuba, you aren’t even the spirit of someone who once lived on the near shore anymore,” Hanako frowns. “You’re purely supernatural, your connections with the mortal realm are as weak as can be, and that means.”

“You can never be human.”

Those words stung Mitsuba, especially since he knew, inevitably that was reality. “No!” He weakly argued, one of his arms whipping at the floor above Yashiro. All of you turned around in horror and panic. You managed to run — while the rest were frozen in shock — shielding Yashiro’s body with your own. You shut your eyes, anticipating the weight of the floor above you crashing down. But it never came. You pulled away from Yashiro’s body, opening your eyes only a small pebble managed to hit her head.

And that seemed to be enough to wake her up.

“(Y/N)? Mitsuba?” Yashiro mumbled, her eyes slowly fluttered open.

You sighed in relief, letting your body fall back — and luckily for you — one of Mitsuba’s arms wrapped itself around you from behind to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

“Ouch..” Mitsuba groans, his eyes shut tightly as rubble slid off his body and he sunk back down to his knees.

“What’s going on?” Yashiro panics, looking around a bit frantically. “Hanako? Kou? (Y/N)? When did you guys all get here?” Her gaze then returned back to Mitsuba “Hey, you okay?” She scanned his figure up and down. Did he change while she was unconscious? “And what.. are you wearing?”

“So Hanako grabbing her and tackling her to the other side of the room didn’t wake her, but a tiny pebble did?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose — this logic made no sense. You feared you might turn as dumb as them.

“I got stronger!” Mitsuba beamed like a little boy searching for praise from an older sibling. “I’m the ruler of this place now! A-And I became one of those seven mystery thingys!”

Yashiro didn’t look afraid, but she didn’t look to happy either. Her eyebrows furrowed as she glanced behind him and saw Tsukasa was still there, staring back at her. That was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

“So this is my boundary?” Mitsuba asked “Is that what you said it was called?” His excitement was short lived, as he could feel Tsukasa practically burning holes into his skin. “So.. I mean..” his eyes darting around from person to person until his gaze was focused on you again. “And I can’t let you destroy it.” He frowns, glancing at Hanako. “So.. uh-“

“Just get outta here!”

Suddenly, various arms sprang from the wall behind you. They grabbed the four of you — though they were much gentler with you for some odd reason — and forced you guys out.

“Stop that! Don’t grab my ankles!” Hanako yelps, trying to dig the blade of his knife into the floor to ground himself.

“Whoa?!” Kou gasped.

“I’m getting sucked into the mirror!” Yashiro panics, grabbing onto the frame of said mirror. “What are you—why are you doing this?”

“Just go with it,” Mitsuba smiles. “See you later.”

This whole time, you were surprisingly calm. The three of them were dragged out through the mirrors, but one of the arms kept you from fully going back through. So many thoughts running through your head, so many questions, very few answers. You had so many things you wanted to say, to ask.

“Mitsuba.” Tsukasa frowns.

“Oh, right..” Mitsuba mumbled, sighing. He didn’t want to, but he knew if you stayed there’s no telling what Tsukasa might do.

“Don’t you dare hurt him!” Was all you managed to say before you too were dragged through the mirror. An arm placed you down gently on the floor before retreating back into the mirror. You stood up on shaky feet, glancing down at the other three who were huddled together on the floor; presumably unconscious or something. You slammed your fist into the mirror, over and over again. Just when you found Mitsuba, you had to say goodbye again. The mokke tried to console you, huddling around you as you fell down to your knees helplessly. You were scared for Mitsuba. You didn’t trust Tsukasa at all. One thing was for sure though, you had to find Mitsuba again. And this time;

You wouldn’t let Tsukasa take him away this time. .

( A / N ) : I have not been able to find the motivation to write for the life of me. 😞 First chapter is finally done tho, hopefully I didn’t miss any spelling or grammatical errors, if so please let me know. I will proofread just in case. Also, I wasn’t sure if I should ask, but should I make a tag list for the chapters or? Originally I wasn’t going to but then someone asked if they could be tagged when new chapters come out so I’m gonna tag them but does anyone else wanna be tagged when I update more? Hope you enjoy btw, have an amazing day/night. <3

Taglist : @tr-mha-fan

#x reader #female reader #mitsuba x reader #tbhk mitsuba #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #souske mitsuba #tbhk x reader #jibaku shoujo hanako kun #hanako kun #yugi tsukasa #nene yashiro #mitsuba sousuke

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