Hello! This blog is dedicated to Gachiakuta 💁🏽♀️❤
I am a 21 y/o black female writer. You can just refer to me as mango because that is currently my favorite fruit atm! 🥭
No racism/phobic/bigotry/pdf shit will be tolerated here. Your interaction will be deleted, effective immediately.
RULES FOR REQUESTS: It’s easy! No characters under Rudo’s age! No 18+ requests because my blog is for minors and adults. And you can request up to no more than 4 characters at a time. Alright, have fun!
This isn’t necessarily a request but I adore your characterization and just RAHH
Thoughts on Tamsy with someone maybe from another world on a mission to save the Ground from the Watchmen series, like they was watching them? Someone stronger magically than Tamsy who is able to clock and sus him immediately. But someone who is calm and independent and also empathizes with everything wrong with him (bc I do NOT condone his messed up actions or thinking but ain’t no way he’s not a victim of the Sphere and whatever tf is going on up there) but doesn’t baby him or vilifies him either, they’re there to do a mission and if Tamsy interferes then they make sure to tell him, if he doesn’t, then great lol. Like, Tamsy would probably spiral into like 50,000 emotions but idk, he’s weird and infuriating and bordering on Yandere idk
I feel like just when I have Tamsy’s character down I’m back to the drawing board. He’s complex and I wanna choke him n shake him as much as I wanna smooch him 🙄 lol
Hi, thank you! 💐
How come you daydreamed the same thing I’ve been daydreaming ever since I got into this manga 😭
Sooo I think about this exact same scenario often but to actually explain it is gonna be a bit difficult because I’m better at thinking than explaining, but I will try!
Let’s consider this my personal analysis on the guy.
‼️LONG ANALYSIS ON TAMSY’S SCARY ASS INCOMING...
First of all, dealing with Tamsy in real life would be absolutely horrifying.
You’re telling me the guy who seemed kind and harmless is actually a sadistic, murderous, unhinged rat?
The same cake-loving weirdo is responsible for killing a kid’s parents and has spent who knows how long psychologically tormenting him just to push him into snapping. He even kidnapped his newly made friend because he thought it would trigger enough rage to cause a disaster. And yes, that friend was a child too. Idc if Amo doesn’t canonically have an age, if Urana decides to make her a love interest, then she is in Rudo’s age group.
And those children suffering? Doesn’t bother him in the slightest. Orders from the Sphere or not, Tamsy clearly enjoys what he does. Did you see the uncanny ass smile he gave to Amo?
Then there’s his staff.
Imagine being wrapped up in those ropes while they slowly tighten. Your skin tears, your bones crack, your organs get crushed. We only get a glimpse of how brutal it is when he uses it on the Cleaners. That would be absolute heeeellll irl.
So much so you could consider that a Danganronpa execution.
And the crazy part is that he doesn’t even need the staff. Remember when Rudo attacked him after Regto died? Tamsy casually threw him into across the wall with one hand.
But let’s say you never fight him (you will) Great. You still have to deal with the manipulation, mind games, and overall nightmare fuel that is his personality. Fanfic writers portraying him as a stalker honestly feels pretty accurate. He is canonically anyway.
This man made a human-shaped yarn puppet to kidnap Amo and controlled the entire thing with a single string and one finger. He couldn’t even see what was happening directly and still maneuvered it perfectly.
My brothers, sisters, and everyone in between, that is terrifying.
So honestly, I feel like getting close to Tamsy, even platonically, would eventually turn into a disaster. Like a curse waiting for its turn.
OKAY NOW THAT WE’VE DISCUSSED HOW SCARY HE IS, I’LL ACTUALLY ANSWER YOUR QUESTION.
I don’t think Tamsy would like to be overpowered or just not in control in general! He creates weeks, months, years worth of plans that he wants a certain way to go and I could only imagine if it didn’t go his way, he wouldn’t be able to hide inner Tamsy.
He isn’t perfect, he too has limits.
But he’s also not the type to rage. At least outwardly. Only in his head. So I think if someone knew of his character and everything he’s doing, that could be a unique case in which he expresses his insanity out loud.
Because what do you think you’re doing, ruining all of his plans he’s probably and likely carefully crafted for several years? I don’t think anyone would be able to keep calm. Doesn’t matter how nonchalant you claim to be.
Oh, and he can’t use the Watchman book on you to make you forget either since you’re so powerful, so I hope you have a camera to remember this moment! This is a once in a blue moon event after all!
Would he be surprised someone genuinely empathized with him despite knowing what he’s done? Probably. He’s still human. But he wouldn’t let that stop him from using it to his advantage.
He’s not the type to think, “They care about me, maybe I should become a better person.”
This isn’t MLP.
Tamsy hates the whole power-of-friendship thing for a reason. Anyone trying to “fix” him would fail spectacularly because his idea of love is fundamentally different from everyone else’s. Trying to change him would only convince him that you’re yet another person who has “misunderstood” him. That wasn’t your intention, but that’s how he’s taking it because he isn’t in his right mind.
The problem is that Tamsy genuinely believes what he’s doing is love. So the moment you challenge it, he’ll take that as proof that you never understood him in the first place.
And now you’ve got a problem.
Tamsy is the kind of person where arguing with his worldview is technically the right thing to do, but also a fantastic way to make him focus all his attention on ruining your life.
Sure, if you’re a Genshin-level threat, you could easily beat him.
I personally believe Tamsy would just straight up expose the Sphere himself since there’s nothing left he could do, and then watch as everyone, both the people on the ground and on the sphere loses their shit. He would consider the mass emotional turmoil a win. It is inevitable everyone must find the truth, it’s a universal law in all universes.
Sooo in conclusion, if Tamsy knows he’s losing, he’s making sure you lose something too. Maybe not your life but,
He will take your sanity if it’s the last thing he does.
Hello!!! Can I request inner tamsy taking care of reader when they're sick?
Pairing: Tamsy Caines x gn!reader
Warning: Tamsy
Genre: Slight fluff, hurt and some comfort? Uh, health wise!
A/N: Omg we are so back! Also, here’s a link to a request I did similar to that, though Tamsy was trying his best to keep his happy go lucky façade 😭
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You poor thing
────୨ৎ────
It was an early afternoon and I was not doing well.
“Ugh… please…” I groaned, clutching weakly onto Tamsy’s hand. The one missing its pinky.
At this point, I’d stopped asking what happened to it. Every time I brought it up, he’d just smile faintly and redirect the conversation somewhere else, smooth as silk.
“What else could you possibly need, dear?” Tamsy asked softly, eyes half-lidded as he looked down at me from his chair beside the bed. “I’ve already given you everything.”
The way he said it almost made me feel greedy for asking.
“…Can’t you just take me to Eishia?” I muttered hoarsely. “Surely she has some kind of medicine or someth-”
A rough cough interrupted me.
Immediately, Tamsy leaned his chair back a few inches with a quiet scrape.
I stared at him.
“…Really?”
“What?” he replied calmly.
“It’s a cold. Not the plague.”
“And yet,” he said, resting his cheek lazily against his knuckles, “you’re still producing germs. I don’t need that.”
I rolled my eyes weakly and let my head fall back against the pillow.
Not like I could infect him anyway. Tamsy’s immune system was absurd. Honestly, everything about him was absurd. Strength, stamina, reflexes, health. It was like the universe went: hm yes, let’s make this one irritatingly perfect.
Lucky bastard.
Another cough shook through me, and Tamsy sighed quietly through his nose, sounding more inconvenienced than concerned.
Still, after a moment, he reached over and adjusted the blanket around my shoulders with surprising gentleness.
“You’re really...reallllyyyyyyy,-” he drawled out with theatrics.
I stared at him until he was finished.
"-really dramatic when you’re sick,” he murmured. Oh, the irony in that statement after what he just did.
“Says the man scooting away from me as if his immune system isn’t perfect.”
“...You say that like I’m wrong for preserving my health?”
“No, you’re just evil.”
“I’ve been told.”
What?
“My dear, do try to remember,” Tamsy said, lifting a finger with exaggerated patience, “-Eishia specializes in actual injuries. Missing limbs. Internal damage. Near death experiences. Not…” his eyes drifted lazily over your blanket cocoon, “…a common cold.”
He gave a soft sigh, leaning back into his chair.
“So please. Just rest.”
Inside his head, however, the tone was entirely different.
‘And STOP acting pathetic. This is the least terrible thing that could happen to you!’
Inner Tamsy slouched deeper into the chair, rubbing a hand down his face in annoyance. Honestly, he’d seen people survive far worse with less whining. Rudo being exhibit...there weren’t enough letters in the alphabet.
‘Just imagine if they knew what I could do to them...’
-
Already it was late afternoon. You pouted at him from the bed.
That almost made him snicker.
“Listen,” you rasped, glaring weakly through watery eyes, “-you know how much I hate being sick…”
“But you hardly ever get sick,” you continued bitterly. “And the one time you did? It vanished in a single day. One day. How? I don’t know. Frankly I think you made some sort of deal with a demon.”
Tamsy smiled faintly.
“I wish you’d tell me your secret because I could really use the advice,” you coughed roughly into your sleeve, “-right about now.”
“Mmm.” He rested his chin against his hand thoughtfully. “No.”
You sat upright so fast the blanket nearly slid off you.
“No?!”
Tamsy immediately reached forward and pressed you gently back into the mattress with one hand against your shoulder.
“Nope.” His smile widened slightly. “♡”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
His eyes closed for a moment as he lowered his head, shoulders giving the faintest twitch. Speeds face
You narrowed your eyes.
“…Are you trying not to laugh right now?”
“No.”
“You ARE!” you accused hoarsely. “Tamsy, I feel horrible and you think this is funny?!”
You attempted to sound intimidating, but halfway through the sentence your throat betrayed you. Another coughing fit hit hard enough to make your eyes water.
Tamsy watched silently for a second.
Then he handed you a cup of lukewarm water with suspiciously perfect timing.
“You misunderstand,” he said smoothly, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t think your suffering is funny.”
“I just think you being serious is adorable, y'know?”
You stared at him in disbelief.
It was moments like these that made you wonder how you even ended up together in the first place.
More importantly, what exactly had you seen in him.
Because really, why have you chosen to date a man who secretly enjoyed other people’s suffering?
Not that Tamsy knew you noticed.
Or that would be very, very bad.
Tiny things. The way the corners of his mouth twitched when someone’s plans fell apart. The faint amusement hidden behind his eyes whenever somebody got themselves into an unfortunate situation. Never enough to make him look cruel outright, however.
And like an idiot, you ignored every single sign.
As the stupid book he once gifted you said:
“Denial is a river in Egypt.”
At the time, you thought it was hilarious.
Now you were beginning to suspect he chose that specific quote on purpose just to privately laugh at you later.
…Actually, what even was Egypt again?
Some ancient faraway land in a very hot continent or something?
And what even was a continent?
Your brain felt like soup.
Ugh. Fever.
You groaned and removed the blanket from you while Tamsy watched from nearby with the same serene expression one might wear while observing an injured bird.
Despite everything, he still looked elegant sitting there.
Annoying.
-
Night time had finally arrived! Earlier, Tamsy had to help me shower, get into new pajamas. No, I couldn’t do it by myself. I was too dizzy. I’m surprised he even helped with that considering he couldn’t stand when I so much as coughed.
I know Tamsy likes clean shit but buddy, sickness is unfortunately a part of life.
Right now, I was in a better mental space. It felt nice having him care for me no matter how much he teased me or otherwise had this sudden shift in behavior where nurturing me seemed like a hinderance.
His hand gently caressed through my coils/curls/waves/strands. I closed my eyes with a smile. It made my headache disappear a bit.
“Wonderful!” He beamed. Then my headache slowly built back up just as it was before.
“No wait-!” I reached for his hand but he moved away. “So!” He continued, getting up to get the bowl of soup. “I made you some soup with the help of...Delmon,” he rolled his eyes. “He really wanted to see you, but mmm, I think me helping you is good enough. You know I don’t really do teams,” he casually conversed.
“Okay- wait, I can’t eat that right now. I still have a fev-”
“Now, open wide my dear!” He put the spoon to my lips.
“Mm mm!” I declined. Tamsy sighed. “Oh, I forgot to mention...Enjin took your snacks. Said he might as well eat them since you can’t with your sore throat and all,” he paused to look at me.
“WHA-”
Suddenly, broth, seasoning, and vegetables was flooding my mouth.
“Good girl/boy,” Tamsy praised with crinkled eyes.
“Tamsy, I already told y-” More soup.
No! This was not going to help my fever! It was gonna make it worse!
I covered my mouth. “Tamsy...I still have a fever...” I spoke from behind my hands.
“Oh!” His eyes widened in false surprise. “I thought the shower helped with that. I’m so...sooooooo-”
There he goes.
“-Sorry, my dear. Truly.” He even put a hand to his chest.
“Perhaps a bedtime story should suffice! I’ve got just the perfect story. One moment please...” He left for a few seconds and returned.
The book in his hand was called, “Rapunzel” Hm. What a unique and strange name...
...
Turns out, it was a horror story. And I had nightmares. Now it’s morning and I’m all by myself because he refused to keep me company for the night. Says he ‘stayed long enough as it was.’
Psh.
I got out of bed. Funnily enough, the fever and headache was gone but I still had a little cough. Just as I was about to go to the shower rooms, there was a knock on the door.
I opened it.
“H-hey! I heard you were sick. I just wanted to give you this,” Eishia stated and gave me a bottle with, what I assume medicine.
“That should completely take away your cold. I just...” she trailed off, “-don’t understand why you didn’t come to me yesterday? I uh, understand if you were maybe too sick to but...” she found the floor very interesting suddenly. “It’s just that, you could’ve been better already.”
“Tamsy told me you were more of a seriously injured, near death, kinda healer? And that I shouldn’t bother you with something like a common cold...” I said, confused.
Because genuinely, I was under the impression that she was for the more serious things myself. I didn’t want to embarrass myself by asking her for assistance for a mere cold compared to...Zanka being poisoned for example.
She looked equally as confused as me. “No, I deal with everything. From the little things to more serious ones. I’m not sure why he told you that....” she put a finger to her lips in thought.
“-But it’s okay! You have the anecdote now, so I...hope you feel better! And please come to me next time you’re sick. I’ll be glad to help!” She smiled then walked away.
I slowly closed the door, looking at the bottle of medicine in my hand.
So that was the secret. How Tamsy got better in one day that time.
Just a genuine question if you hate chiwa and tamsy? It seems quite unreasonable to me if you do afterall,,,,, IT'S NOT THAT IM HATING ON YOU FOR HATING CHIWA I just don't understand why ppl hate chiwa and adore tamsy.......
SPOILERS BTWWWW
but uhhhi mean tamsys the whole cause of what happened not only to regto(probably only) but also rudo, he killed his father, kidnapped amo, and made rudo be dropped into the ground.
And the only thing chiwa has done was to stop believing in rudo being a killer. Bcs at first she was like "rudo couldn't have done that" when ppls was talking/murmuring about things like "rudo finally killed someone, and it was his father on top of that" and when she heard it she hugged the plushie rudo gave her and said "no way rudo did that" and only did then did she stop believing him bcs she saw bloodstains on rudos clothes............
(Copy and pasted)
‼️Spoiler ask‼️
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Hi fellow queen or king! How did I never see this ask, so sorry this is late 💀
Nope, I don’t hate chiwa. I don’t feel anything about her character because it wasn’t explored enough. I have a love/hate relationship with Tamsy.
Chiwa is what, 13? I also forgot how long she’s known Rudo but she’s very impressionable given her age. So her feeling betrayed by Rudo despite the fact he didn’t do anything isn’t surprising and I’m not gonna blame her. It sucks, but also...oh well. Their chapter has closed. At least for now.
Tamsy I like because he’s a villain and he’s pretty 😭 But his actions? I do not endorse ’em, and I hate what he’s done to Rudo the poor kid. Although I like the character of Tamsy, I am rooting for Rudo to absolutely destroy him when the time comes!
No matter how much Tamsy makes me blush in my head, I’m on Rudo’s side at the end of the day and if I were a character, I’d be privately sussing on him with Tomme in our spare time. Speaking of her, I hope she’ll be okay 💀
I’ve been thinking for a while that it would be more easier for me to do right now instead of my story...the reason I uploaded one chapter per month was because despite knowing where I want to go with it, it was difficult actually putting it all together sooooo-
No worries. I’ve decided to privately write about it so I can take as long as I want. And then once that’s done, I will post it again! But meanwhile, I’m going to continue doing scenarios/oneshots, whatever ya wanna call it.
To look at the rules of requests, simply look at my pinned post. But yeah, we are so back! I really missed doing these, so have at it again! Horary! ...Hurray. Horray? However you spell it.
What do you think is easiest to write and whats hardest to write? Btw I love your story!!
Thank youuu!
The easiest thing to write? Hmm, nothing 🥲
In fact, I think planning out a story is way easier than actually writing it! If you’ve been here for a while, you see I used to have people request scenarios because I wanted to practice writing for my story. And even after all that, writing is still a bit difficult for me even though I know how I want my story to go.
But I’d say the hardest part is...well, I have a bad case of telling instead of showing. I try to show, but I think I just end up losing my mind over the details if that makes any sense, and looking back on the scenarios I did- they’re even worse lowkey.
But I’m giving myself grace because I was just starting out. I consider myself a new writer despite having written for almost a few years now (privately) This is the first time I show it to the public.
I’m also impatient so my writing comes off as attempting to be professional but really just all over the place. I am a perfectionist. I have to remember that it’s just fanfiction and I’m not getting paid to publish stories that millions will read lol
I’m very detail oriented and it shows. Everytime I look back on any of my works, I think “I could be more simple and there’s nothing wrong with simplicity”
Yeahhh I’m definitely going to be using the - dash instead of the — dash from now on,
Unpopular opinion: It’s not really that important for me and looking back at my scenarios I tried so hard to make it look polished and neat by using them 😭
Somehow it makes paragraphs look crowded because it’s so long...- is short and simple. Idk, writers note for me.
Also the next chapter of Weapons is coming this week. I think.
HELLO? THE DETAILS? THE PLOT? YOUR OC? OMG SHE'S SO REALISTIC I LOVE THIS ALR, I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER
THANK YOUUUU
I really fried my brain for the past 5 months creating this story, tried my best to add in a lot of plot twists that I hope you guys will enjoy in the future 🤭
I don’t have an update schedule because it takes me a very long time to think about how I want to structure my writing (and I’m a perfectionist, that’s a downfall T_T cause if I create one scene then come up with something better, then somehow the whole chapter has to be reconstructed 😭)
So glad you enjoyed!! I too can’t wait to get to the part where Siete meets everyone!
THANK WHATEVER CELESTIAL BEING IS OUT THERE THAT I DISCOVERED YOUUU
I barely see good GACHIAKUTA fanfics out there and then I found you and SPEDRUN reading your fanfics and I lovelovelove ittt
My heart permanently belongs to August, so like, can you do a fanfic where the reader is blind and has hard to to find herself pretty? You can do other characters if you want!
Pairing: August Stilza x fem!reader
Warning: None
Genre: Pure fluff
A/N: I couldn’t not do this, it was pretty easy thinking about how he’d approach this kind of situation! Thank you for your support 🥺 Means a lot!!
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
August always noticed the way you touched your own face when you assumed no one was looking at you.
Though the way you went about it wasn’t due to vanity, nor curiosity.
It seemed more like you were searching for something.
Your fingertips would trace your jaw, your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose like you were trying to map yourself…and never quite liking what you found.
He pretended not to notice at first. August Stilza, loud, dramatic, walking thunderstorm of personality, pretending not to notice something was almost funny. But this wasn’t something to tease about. So he just watched abnormally silent, from across the workshop while fabric rustled and machines hummed.
One afternoon, you were sitting at the long table, running your fingers over a piece of cloth he’d handed you.
“What color is this one?” you asked.
August leaned against the table. “Warm yellow. Like sunlight hitting honey.”
You smiled faintly. “That sounds very pretty. The sun has always been one of my favorite descriptions to hear about ever since I was little. I always say it must be fascinating.”
“It is pretty!”
There was a pause.
“…Y’know, I wonder what I look like. I’m aware of the way people describe me but I have a hard time conceptualizing it for obvious reasons,” you said, almost under your breath.
August didn’t answer right away.
You continued, voice softer. “Some people hesitate when I ask. They say things like ‘you look nice’ or ‘you look sweet.’ Nobody just says I’m pretty. So… I figured I’m not.”
The scissors in August’s hand stopped mid-cut.
He walked over, pulling a chair beside you, sitting unusually quietly. When August was quiet, it felt like the sun had dimmed slightly.
“About that...can I try something?” he asked.
You tilted your head. “Try what?”
Instead of answering, he gently took your hand.
His hands were warm, calloused in small places from tools and thread. He guided your fingers slowly upward… to his own face first.
“This,” he said, “is my nose. Too long, according to my sister.”
You huffed a small laugh.
“And this,” he continued, guiding your hand to the scar near his brow, “is where I tripped into a crate when I was twelve because I refused to admit I was tired.”
“You’re so ridiculous for that.”
“Yeaaah. Extremely!”
Then he gently moved your hand away from himself… and back toward you.
“Now,” he said softly, “I’m going to describe you from my perspective because beauty is in the eye of the beholder!”
Your fingers hovered uncertainly near your own cheek.
“You have soft cheeks,” August said, voice gentler than you’d ever heard it. “Not too round, not too sharp. Just soft! Like fabric that hasn’t been worn down...which is my favorite, by the way!”
Your fingers pressed there, hesitant.
“Your nose is (big/medium/small)”, he continued. “And your lips…” He paused, then cleared his throat. “Your lips are shaped like you’re always about to smile, even when you aren’t!”
You swallowed.
“Your hair is (coily/curly/wavy/straight) and very much perfect, mind you!”
“And then your eyes,” he said, enchanted now, “are simply beautiful~! Just stunning! A work of art I’ll say!”
You shook your head immediately. “I can’t even use them.”
“That’s not the point,” August said, a little more firmly than usual. “Beauty isn’t a tool. It’s not a knife or a hammer. It doesn’t have to do anything to exist. Trust me, I’d know.”
Silence for a short moment. This silence in particular was very warm and comfortable. You thought about what he said. And you liked it.
Then August suddenly stood up.
“Wait here!”
You heard drawers opening, fabric shifting, footsteps moving quickly around the workshop. Something rustled, then came closer.
“Hold out your hands,” he said.
You did.
Fabric settled over your palms. The fabric was smooth, soft, and layered.
“I made this a while ago,” he said. “For you.”
You felt it carefully. The stitching was intricate, textured in places, smooth in others. Patterns you could feel instead of see. Raised embroidery that traced gentle shapes under your fingertips.
“I designed it so you could feel it,” August said. “So you’d know exactly what you’re wearing.”
Your throat tightened. “But...why?”
“Be-CAUSE,” he said simply, “you deserve to feel beautiful even if you, yourself, can’t see it.”
You pressed the fabric to your chest, breathing it in slowly. It smelled faintly of dye and thread and the workshop...and a little like him. That was your favorite part of it.
“August?” you said quietly.
“Yuh?”
“…Are you serious? Am I really pretty to you?”
He reached forward and gently tucked a coil/strand of hair behind your ear, fingers brushing your temple with a softness that he must definitely possessed outside of his usual quick energy.
“Yes,” he said. “And not in the way people say it to just wave ya off. In the way that makes you look twice! In the way that makes a room feel warmer when you walk in! Wooow, look how you got me talking,” He jested.
August was really passionate when it came to his loved ones, naturally so. Fashion wasn’t the only thing on his mind contrary to popular belief.
Your chest felt tight, but not painfully so. Like something inside you was stretching for the first time in a long while. And it made you smile. Finally.
And August, watching you, felt something odd settle in his chest…the steady realization that beauty wasn’t always something you could see either.
Sometimes, you just felt it sitting beside you, smiling as bright as the sunlight.
Do you think you could write tamsy, zanka, and jabber (and anyone else you want) catching you imitate them? Not in a mocking way but like mimicking or doing an impression of them using their jinki for fun or smth else thats silly!! maybe even just copying little habits or however youd wanna interpret it!! I love all your fluff fics !
Pairings: Tamsy, Zanka, Jabber x gn!reader
Warnings: Tamsy and Jabber
Genre: Fluff, Humor
A/N: What a cute request! <3 Thank you!
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Watch me!
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You’re alone. Or at least, you think you are.
The room is quiet except for you pacing in a slow deliberate circle, hands folded behind your back just like you’ve seen him do a hundred times. You tilt your head, soften your voice, smooth your expression into that calm, reassuring mask.
“It’s alright,” you murmur to the empty space, serene to the point of parody. “Panicking won’t fix anything. We’ll just…hm, adapt.”
You pause, then add with a faint smile you absolutely did not invent yourself, “Pain is part of the process, you know.” You made sure to add that posh to your voice. You often jokingly asked Tamsy if he came from a wealthy family.
He never gave you a straight answer.
You snort at your own impression, shoulders loosening. “Wow. I really sound like him. That is preeeetty creepy. Or comforting. Both? Both.”
You try again, leaning against the wall this time, eyes half-lidded. “If something breaks, that just means it was fragile to begin with.”
A beat.
Then a voice behind you, gentle as a hand on the back of your neck.
“You think I sound like that?”
Your blood goes cold.
You turn around holding your breath. Tamsy is standing in the doorway, arms side to side, his sleeves that always look similar to wings.
His expression is...unreadable. Nothing out of the ordinary there. He doesn’t look angry. He barely looks amused, but you can see it's still there. That somehow makes it all the more embarrassing.
“I—” you laugh, too fast, heat rushing to your face. “I was just joking. Ya know. Messing around? Hehe...” You hoped he didn't notice how you were having a hard time swallowing your nervousness.
He hums, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with a soft click. “You got the tone right,” he says, circling next to you, mirroring your earlier pacing almost perfectly. “The posture too. That means you’ve been watching me closely.”
You swallow. “I mean. You are my partner. Is that…bad?”
Tamsy stops in front of you. For a long moment, he just looks at you. I'm talking into your very soul. Then he smiles.
Not the wide, friendly one. The smaller one.
“No,” he says softly. “I’m flattered.”
Your relief comes too soon.
“But,” he continues, tilting his head in a way that makes your stomach twist, “Next time you imitate someone, make sure they aren’t standing right behind you. Y’know?”
He reaches out to straighten your posture with two fingers under your chin, slightly affectionate. “You missed one thing.”
You blink. “What?”
His smile deepens. “I don’t joke when I say those things.”
And then he steps back, his calm restored, as if none of this rattled him at all.
“Carry on,” he adds lightly. “Your impression was cute.”
You didn’t know that after he left the room, he pondered to himself:
Hmm, should I make my very own puppet out of them? Then they can also have a mimic of themselves.
He tapped his chin piercing, grinning.
Yeah.
Zanka had stepped away for maybe ten minutes. Long enough to grab a light snack.
You were alone in the training area, which was dangerous for exactly one reason: boredom plus affection equals bad decisions.
His assistaff was obviously not there, but there was a broom leaned against the wall...
So you picked it up.
You planted your feet the way Zanka always did. Not flashy. Grounded was more so his style. You narrowed your eyes and lowered your voice an octave.
“Discipline begins with posture,” you muttered, trying to sound calm and wise instead of like someone holding a broom. You adjusted your grip, copying the exact hand placement you’d watched a hundred times. “Effort over talent. Again.”
You swung the broom. It wobbled. You corrected it, annoyed, because Zanka’s movements were never wobbly. Ever.
You tried again, slower this time, mimicking the way he let the staff guide him instead of forcing it. You even did the little pause he always did before striking.
You nodded to yourself. “Good. Acceptable.”
You didn’t notice the footsteps.
“Your stance is wrong.”
You froze.
Zanka stood at the edge of the training space, snack in hand, eyes fixed on you and the broom like he was trying to understand how reality had betrayed him so thoroughly.
There was a long silence.
You considered committing to the bit. You really did. But his eyebrow twitched, just barely, and that was worse than yelling.
“…Listen I can explain,” you said.
“You’re holdin’ a broom.”
“Yeees?”
“And pretendin’ it’s my lovely assistaff.”
“…Also yes.”
Another pause. “You were watching me closely enough to copy my footwork,” he said rather nonchalantly, but that’s how you knew it secretly mattered to him.
Your face warmed up. “Yeah so? I watch everyone closely.”
“That’s such a lie...”
You opened your mouth to defend yourself, then shut it again because yeah. Fair.
Zanka decided to reach out. He adjusted your front foot with two fingers, precise and gentle.
“I know you didn’t.” Jesus, the sass this guy can have. But you loved it.
He stepped back, arms crossed now, studying you with that unreadable expression. Then, quietly, “Was it supposed to be mockery?”
You shook your head fast. You didn't want Zanka to get into one of his moods. “No. Never. I just… I think you’re cool. And terrifyingly competent. And I wanted to see if I could do it.”
Although you meant it, you knew praise meant everything to him and you would rather he feel flattered to raise his self esteem.
His cheeks were suddenly dusted pink.
“…Y’know ya looked ridiculous,” he said.
You groaned. “I knew it.”
“But,” he added, after a beat, “your timing wasn’t bad.”
You looked up. “Really?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” He waved you off.
Too late. You grinned, holding the broom like it had personally validated you.
Zanka turned away, shoulders tense. “Next time you wanna learn though, ask. I’ll teach you properly.”
Then, quieter, almost to himself, “And don’t imitate me in public...”
You watched him walk off, heart pounding, broom still in hand.
“…So I nailed the impression,” you muttered.
From down the hall, without turning back, “Absolutely not.”
“I think Enjinnnn would say otherwiiiise,” you teased.
“SHUT UP!”
You’re absolutely not supposed to be doing this. Hah...
The section of the base you’re standing in is empty. You check once, twice, then shrug. Whatever. You roll your shoulders, let your arms go loose, and start moving.
It’s not elegant. It’s not coordinated. It’s…well, Jabber.
All sharp elbows and bouncing steps, head snapping side to side like your spine forgot its job. You throw in that weird foot drag he does, the one that looks like he’s half skipping, half picking a fight with gravity. Your arms flail, wrists flicking like imaginary claws. You even bare your teeth at nothing, grin a little too wide.
You’re laughing now, fully committed, spinning, hopping, slamming your heel down and bouncing back up again.
You don’t hear footsteps.
You don’t notice the shadow lining up with yours.
You don’t realize anything is wrong until you spin sharply to the left and slam straight into someone.
“FUCK—!”
You stumble back, ready to unwillingly apologize, except the person you bumped into doesn’t move much. They just keep dancing. With the same rhythm, same unhinged energy.
You look up.
Hot pink eyes. Wide grin. Locs bouncing as he keeps moving, perfectly in sync with you like you rehearsed this.
The two of you just stare at each other.
Then Jabber laughs.
“HAHA! YO?? Why do you know my dance moves?”
Your face goes nuclear. “I—YOU—THIS ISN’T—”
Too late. He’s already circling you, mirroring every move you make. When you hop, he hops. When you drag your foot, he drags his. When you bare your teeth again out of pure panic, he does it back, even wider.
“You’re so good,” he says, eyes gleaming. “Real good. You practicing or somethin’?”
“I WAS JUST JOKING AROUND,” you protest, trying to stop moving, but somehow your body keeps matching his rhythm like muscle memory betrayed you.
Jabber claps once, excited. “Nah nah nah, don’t stop now.” He leans in close. “C’mon. Let’s go again.”
And then he starts the dance over from the beginning, exaggerated, reckless, daring you to keep up.
You hesitate for exactly half a second before giving in. Why oh why did he have to witness this.
Anyone walking in right now would assume this was planned.
Eventually you’re both out of breath. Jabber finally stops, hands on his knees, still grinning like he just won a fight.
He looks up at you, eyes bright. “Well that was fun,” he says plainly. “Didn’t know I’d be such a star in your eyes.”
You groan, covering your face. “Please forget this ever happened.”
He straightens, cracks his neck, and slings an arm around your shoulders. “Ehhh nope. This is my new favorite thing.” He then nuzzles his cheek with yours.
The part on your fic where Raider Reader was ragebaiting Follo was be the funniest sh ever, I imagined Follo as the screaming lion and reader as the wise monkey 😭😭😭
I’m so glad I managed to make you laugh, I overly analyze my works and do entirely too much (to me as I’m a perfectionist unfortunately) I’m glad you were entertained!! 🤭
How about fem!reader was shopping in town with lover (enjin, zanka, Gris, follo) and it ends up with the boys saving their lover from danger! (The reader is not a cleaner just an innocent human with their strong lover! 💕)
Pairings: Enjin, Zanka, Gris, Follo x fem!reader
Warning: The rarity of finding real dudes like this
Genre: Pure fluff
A/N: HAPPY DOUBLE UPDATE DAY! This was a cute request <3
• . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. •
I got you!
• . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. •
The town was loud in that low, constant way Enjin liked. Voices overlapping, vendors calling out prices, the clatter of metal and wood and footsteps grinding dust into the street. You walked beside him with a small bag hooked around your wrist, stopping every few steps to look at something new.
“You enterin’ that flow state again,” Enjin said lazily, hands in his pockets, umbrella slung over his shoulder.
“Because everything looks like it’s about to fall apart,” you replied. “And somehow it doesn’t. But I’m still paranoid.”
He smiled at that. “That’s kinda the whole deal.”
You reached a stall selling secondhand trinkets. Old charms, cracked mirrors, bent rings that probably meant something to someone once. You picked up a little metal charm, turning it between your fingers.
“Think this does anything?” you asked.
“Only if you believe it does,” Enjin said. “Otherwise it’s just junk,” he waved it off.
You laughed and set it down, slipping your hand into his rough one without thinking. He squeezed back, thumb brushing your knuckles like it was muscle memory.
That’s when the shouting started.
A sharp, panicked cry cut through the noise, followed by the sound of something heavy scraping across stone. Enjin’s grip tightened instantly. His body shifted before your brain fully registered danger.
“Stay close,” he said, tone still calm.
A man barreled through the crowd, wild-eyed, clutching a bag that clearly wasn’t his. Someone reached for him. He swung blindly, knocking a crate over. It skidded straight toward you.
You froze. Fuck you freeze mode.
Enjin didn’t.
He stepped in front of you in one smooth motion, umbrella snapping open as the crate slammed into it. “Man watch out!” He yelled at the thief, irritated that he almost injured his girlfriend.
The impact rattled your teeth, but the force stopped dead. Enjin braced, boots digging into the ground, then flicked his wrist and sent the crate spinning harmlessly aside.
The thief barely made it three more steps before Enjin turned to him and caught his ankle with the hook of this umbrella, throwing him far, far away from you.
Normally, Enjin couldn’t give less of a fuck if someone wanted to steal a little sum. It’s always hard times on the ground after all. But to injure his girlfriend along the way?
Yeaaaaahhh, not happening.
The reaction to this consisted of shouting, grabbing, chaos swallowing the moment whole.
Enjin turned back to you like nothing dramatic had just occured.
“You good?” he asked.
You stared at him, heart hammering, then nodded. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
He shrugged, gentle now, reaching up to check your face like he was making sure you were still solid. “Used to it. Comes with the job.”
The steam curled lazily from the bowls, carrying the scent of rich broth, herbs, and the promise of something warm in the cold air. Zanka’s eyes lit up in a way few people ever got to see: a rare, unguarded excitement, as he scanned the small soup shop.
“I think I’ve found paradise in this hell hole,” he murmured, voice low, almost reverent. You laughed at him from the bench across the table, sipping your drink as he fussed over the menu like it held the secrets of the universe.
Right now he was acting as he should. A happy teenager. You liked when he acted the way you both were supposed to act in this stage of life. The ground naturally made everyone, of all ages and background, rough. It did not discriminate.
But it was moments like these you felt you could be a normal teen.
“Just order somethin’ before you fall out from indecision,” you teased.
He lightly grinned, a little sheepish, and settled on a hearty miso broth. The way he cradled the bowl once it arrived, inhaling the aroma like it was a sacred ritual, made your chest tighten.
Your laughter faded when a commotion outside the shop drew attention. A man barreled past the window, pushing a cart recklessly. Before anyone could react, the cart skidded toward the glass window, breaking through. The man used that as a distraction to attempt and steal. It appeared he wanted to steal the high quality kitchen equipment to possibly sell.
Without a word, Zanka rose, posture snapping from casual enjoyment to lethal alertness. “Stay right here,” he told you, voice calm but steel-hardened.
Bottles and utensils clattered to the ground. People screamed and scrambled, but Zanka was already moving, fast and precise. He intercepted the would-be assailant— the man hadn’t expected a cleaner in full control of his body to appear in his path. A calculated hit from lovely assistaff sent him sprawling into a display of soup bowls, which shattered on impact.
Dang. Now he was going to have to pay for that. Good thing he comes from a well off family because those bowls were a bit high quality.
You watched, heart hammering, as Zanka’s every movement was controlled and efficient in its own right. The casual warmth from earlier; the boy savoring broth like it was gold vanished. Here was Zanka in full protective mode, eyes a darkened version of themselves.
The threat was neutralized and the shop went quiet again, as onlookers faintly talked about what happened, or just left since the mood was ruined. Zanka exhaled once, long and slow, walking back to you. A faint, almost embarrassed smile touched his lips. “You okay?”
“I… I’m fine. These things happen all the time.” You were honestly shaken, it didn’t matter that you knew what to expect here. Your nervous system was always disregulated from all the chaos.
Zanka’s expression softened slightly, and he gestured toward the table. “Then let’s eat before it gets cold. You can scold me later for making a scene.”
He sat down again, casually sipping on the soup from his spoon when a worker came over.
“Young man, feel free to have that soup for free! And your young lady here as well as appreciation for protecting our establishment!” He bowed then walked away.
Zanka looked at you. “Good soup.”
You smiled. “Good soup.”
The sun was low over the town ruins, casting long shadows across the cracked cobblestones. You and Gris walked side by side, the quiet crunch of your boots the only sound for a moment. He had that measured pace he always carried, and somehow it made you feel safe even when the streets looked sketchy. It was.
“Look at this place,” you said, pointing at a crumbling fountain. “I swear, it’s like a post-apocalyptic postcard.”
Gris chuckled softly, ruffling your hair with one hand. “Some people like postcards. I like walking with you.”
Your face warmed up and you elbowed him lightly, ignoring the growl from deeper in the alley. You froze. Gris’s eyes narrowed instantly, trained and sharp at the sound.
Just because he wasn’t a giver didn’t mean he couldn’t fight.
An average sized trash beast skittered out from a pile of rubble, its claws scraping the stones. Its eyes glowed faintly, sharp and predatory.
“Stay behind me,” Gris murmured, voice low but firm. “They shouldn’t even be here...in this zone.”
Before you could react, it lunged. Gris stepped forward like a shadow made solid. He simply used his hands to swing and knock the creature back with a single, practiced strike. It yelped, staggered, and he finished it with a clean, controlled motion that left you gaping.
Your hands flew to your mouth. “Oh my god, Gris! Thank you so much! I didn’t even see it coming!”
He knelt slightly to bring himself to your level, resting a firm hand on your head and caressing your hair. “It’s my duty,” he said, voice calm, almost teasing, “As your…future husband.”
You blinked. “H-husband…?”
Gris gave a small, confident smile, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yes. You’re mine to protect, aren’t you?”
Your cheeks burned as you looked away, hiding your wide grin. “I guess… I’d allow it,” you said softly. Inside, you were squirming. He wanted to marry you one day!
He chuckled again, letting his hand linger lightly on your shoulder before letting it fall to his side. “Good. Now, let’s keep walking. The city may be ruined, but I’ll always be here to make sure nothing ruins you.”
You squeezed his arm, heart still racing. Even in a place like this, everything felt safe when Gris was there.
The afternoon sun was warm but gentle, filtering through the narrow streets where you and Follo had wandered. You both had insisted on wearing the same outfits that August had especially made for you; soft, light jackets and sneakers; and the way you matched made him chuckle every time someone glanced at you.
“Stop staring at me like that,” you teased, blowing a bubble from the little wand in your hand. The iridescent sphere floated lazily before popping against the wall.
“I’m not staring,” Follo said, though his grin betrayed him. “I’m…just, ya know. Appreciating symmetry.”
You rolled your eyes and sent another bubble into the air. He followed, blowing one himself, and soon the two of you were laughing, chasing the bubbles as they shimmered in the sun, your hands brushing every so often. It was simple, ridiculous, and perfect.
Sure, you were both young adults but who cares that you had child-like activities. Just because you were an adult didn’t mean you could no longer enjoy the things that made you happy as a kid!
Then a low growl rattled the alleyway nearby. Follo’s eyes sharpened instantly, the relaxed curve of his smile vanishing. A trash beast, small but vicious, slithered out from behind a pile of crates, claws scraping the stones. Its eyes glowed a faint red, and it hissed, a sound that froze your laughter in place.
“I’ll handle this, this is an abnormal space for them to even be in...” Follo said, calm but firm. His hand brushed yours for a brief second before releasing it, and you felt the shift in the air. The playful afternoon dissolved in an instant.
The creature lunged. Follo moved faster than your eyes could track. In one smooth motion, he summoned Alan, his hammer growing in size and glowing faintly. He swung it like a seasoned warrior, blocking and smashing the beast in a series of precise, controlled strikes. The hammer glowed with much energy.
He did tell you that his weapon was named after his late friend, and that it absorbs his stress to later be released as an attack. Though apparently this trash beast didn’t warrant that kind of intensity.
The sound of stone and metal collided, and within moments, the creature was nothing but a scattering of harmless debris.
You stared, mouth slightly open, heart hammering. “Follo…that was incredible! Oh my god!”
He let Alan shrink back to its normal size, his chest rising and falling steadily. Then he bent slightly to take your hands in his, that gentle, protective expression returning to his face. “It’s what I'm supposed to do” he said softly. “I can’t have anything happen to you.”
You practically threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly and peppering his face with frantic kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I don’t even know what I’d do without you! I— I’m so grateful!”
Follo’s arms wrapped around you, steady and reassuring. “You’re safe now,” he murmured, almost shyly, though there was pride in his voice. “That’s all that matters.”
You stepped back a little, hands still holding his, eyes wide with admiration. “Safe…thanks to you. I swear, you’re my hero.”
Follo smiled bright and happy. He can protect someone after all!
COULD I REQUEST A FU X READER WHERE FU IS BASICALLY READERS GOODLUCK CHARM?:D
Reader is on team eager (this takes place after doll festival arc) and reader has pretty bad luck. So when fu was on a mission with them and something good happened, THRY began to see him as their Goodluck charm?
and whenever something good wouod happen, they’d show him lots of affection. It was originally just hugs turned into cuddling, and then it eventually turned into kisses on his head, cheek, nose, hand, etc?:D
they’ve become really close friends with eachother at this point, and they bith have lingering feelings for eachother right? And then one day he turned his head to ask her a question rught when they were about to kiss his cheek, which turned into a kiss on the lips
it became really awkward after that and they were both super flustered. Eventually they talk it out though and kiss about it and get together tho
SORRY IF ITS TOO DETAILED
Pairing: Fu Orostor x gn!reader
Warning: Tamsy being slightly weird
Genre: Much fluff, humor
A/N: Reader, the ultimate lucky student! P.S. Apologies that this is so short, I wanted to write it as multiple sequences but didn’t know which direction to take T_T
────﹒♡﹒────
Luck of the Draw
────﹒♡﹒────
After the Doll Festival, luck still hated you.
You got bruises from nothing, missions went sideways when you attempted them, and even simple patrols found new, creative ways to bite you in the ankle. Enjin joked about it openly. Not cruelly, just factually. If something could go wrong, it usually waited patiently for you.
So when Fu was assigned to your team for a mission, no one expected much to change.
Except it did.
The first time was small. Almost stupid. A little trash beast burst from a broken wall straight toward you, jaws snapping, and before you could even flinch, it slipped on....air? And knocked itself out cold. Fu had been standing beside you, frozen stiff, eyes wide, Hii tucked under his arm.
You stared at the beast. Then at Fu.
“…Okay,” you said slowly. “That never happens.”
“I-I didn’t do anything,” Fu said immediately. “I didn’t even get an order yet.”
You didn’t answer. You leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head, more instinct than thought.
Fu nearly dropped the doll. “Why?...”
You shrugged. “Felt it was well deserved.”
Delmon and Tamsy were dealing with their own section but you failed to notice the way Tamsy was observing you and Fu. Although you were a team, you didn’t converse much outside of it. You usually talk to your fellow teens.
But oh, what was this? You and Fu? Hm.
The next time, a supply crate everyone swore was empty turned out to still be usable with extra supplies and then some. You looked at the contents, then back at Fu, who was nervously adjusting his sleeves.
Without thinking, you kissed his cheek.
“Oh,” he squeaked, face lighting up red. “I-I mean good. I’m glad that worked out...”
It kept happening. Fortunate things come your way, only when Fu is nearby.
A tunnel held long enough for everyone to pass. You were in awe and grabbed Fu’s hand and kissed his knuckles before realizing what you were doing. He stared at your joined hands like they were a foreign object.
Delmon was especially grateful about the easiness of the mission. He patted you and Fu on the head, which caused you both to be slammed to the floor but no worries! Delmon has good intentions only!
A patrol went smoothly. No injuries. You leaned in and brushed a kiss against his nose. Fu laughed under his breath, flustered but smiling.
Somewhere along the line, you started walking side by side during missions. Sitting next to him during breaks. Leaning against his shoulder when things were (unusually) quiet. When luck smiled at you, you smiled at him and kissed him wherever you could reach, like you were thanking the universe through him.
Fu never pulled away. He accepted the affection despite not knowing where it was coming from. It was extremely difficult for him to acknowledge this fact at first given he genuinely believes he doesn't deserve any reward unless he's completed an order.
So for you to give him this much loving? Not that it healed him because it would realistically take more than that, himself, to grow from his current mental state— but it was a start.
He just stayed very still, heart racing, letting it happen like he was afraid the moment would vanish if he moved.
“You’re my good luck charm,” you joked once, half-laughing as you hugged him tight.
“I don’t think that’s how probability works,” he mumbled, face buried in your shoulder, but he didn’t correct you again after that. Why should he anyway.
Just then, Tamsy and Delmon walked towards you two. “You don’t think that’s how what works?” Tamsy inquired, curious.
“Oh, Tamsy! Hi Delmon! Yeah so, there’s this weird thing where everytime Fu is in proximity with me, good things happen. So I thought maybe he had some dormant ability that just makes the odds in our favor somehow. I don’t get it though and neither does he,” you explained while Fu covered his face.
“Hm, that is rather strange indeed...” Tamsy muttered, lifting a finger to his chin while looking at Fu. Into his very soul.
At that, Fu covered his face more. He didn’t like being perceived in such a way.
By the time cuddling became normal, no one questioned it. You’d sit together, close enough that your knees touched, Fu’s hand awkwardly resting near yours. Sometimes, when a mission ended cleanly, you’d give him a nice warm hug before even checking the results.
The day it went wrong was painfully ordinary.
You were packing up after a mission that had gone, not shockingly, perfect. Fu stood beside you, fiddling with his sleeves, clearly working up the courage to say something.
You leaned in automatically, aiming for his cheek. A familiar gesture by now.
At the exact same moment, Fu turned his head and said, “Do you think I’m actually helping, or is it just—”
Your lips met his. Whoops! That was not supposed to happen. But you’re both glad it did
Everything seemed to have slowed down.
Fu made a small, startled sound and jumped back like he’d been shocked. “I-I’m so sorry— I didn’t mean— I mean I did mean— I mean—”
You were just as flustered, face warming up. “No, I was— I do that a lot, it’s not your fault— but not like that— I mean sometimes like that but—”
The stuttering was unbearable on both your ends. Have you ever had a dream where you the where you the and you and
You both avoided eye contact the entire walk back.
It took days to talk about it. When you finally did, it was awkward yes, but halting and honest. You admitted that being around him made things feel safer. That maybe it wasn’t luck at all. Maybe it was just him. Yeah, let him get the credit.
Fu admitted he liked you too. That was a big deal for him. That every kiss, every touch, made him feel like he was doing something right without doing anything at all.
And so, the second kiss you shared was slow and intentional. No accidents this time.
When you pulled back, Fu smiled, small and genuine.
The odds seemed to always be in your favor.
Oh yeah, and the other givers and supporters made sure to let Fu know he was very much appreciated in somehow bringing such good luck to you and their missions by extension.
To have brought such fortune unintentionally and being praised for it, all by himself?
That made Fu very happy. Not even Hii could torment him with insults.
Do you think u could do a tamsy, zanka, and anyone else you might feel like x reader where the reader is loopy off anesthesia (maybe post operation/healin) and acts silly in front of them afterwards?
Maybe so loopy they tell them to stay back because they already like someone, even though that someone is them but they just aren't thinking straight !! Fluff !! Silly !!
Pairings: Tamsy, Zanka, and Jabber x gn!reader
Warnings: Tamsy and Jabber
Genre: Some fluff and straight up humor
A/N: Hi thank you! I had too much fun with this one, also please get Jabbers pickle reference (cries)
⊰══════════⊱
Is this the right century??
⊰══════════⊱
Eishia leaves with a gentle smile and a warning about anesthesia, and Tamsy steps closer to the bed, already wearing his concerned, saintly expression. You are very much awake. Not so much aware though.
Your head slowly swivels toward him. Your eyes narrow. Then widen.
“…Oh my god. You’re shaped wrong.”
Tamsy hums sympathetically, pulling a chair closer. “You’re still a bit disoriented. That’s normal.”
Inner Tamsy makes a disgruntled face, leaning his head back. What the hell does that mean.
You suddenly gasp like you’ve cracked the code of the universe. “WAIT. Don’t move.”
He freezes, obedient, like a good caretaker. “Alright dear.”
You squint harder. “Yeah. You’re definitely a lamp.”
A pause.
“…A lamp?” he repeats softly, kindly.
I left a mission for this. Well, both are annoying but still.
You nod with devastating confidence. “A haunted one. From Living Spaces.”
Tamsy reaches up and gently adjusts the blanket around your shoulders, the picture of patience. “That must be confusing for you.”
And me. That store is supposed to be hidden documented information of fragments about the old world—-
You grab his wrist with shocking speed. “Promise me something!”
He squints his eyes for half a second before relaxing again. “What is it?”
“If I turn into soup,” you whisper, dead serious, “you have to eat me.”
Silence.
His smile twitches. Internally, something snaps.
This weird-ass menace. This absolute creature. Why do I like you.
“I promise,” he says calmly, because of course he does. At least if such a situation happened, they’d be gone and he can focus on...other matters. Was he above cannabalism? Hm. Does it count if you’re an ꋬꋊ𝖍𝖊l and not human?
You beam. “Knew you cared!”
Then you immediately frown. “But be messy with it, like a raccoon. So then I know how much you hunger for me.”
“…Like a raccoon,” Tamsy echoes, dead inside. Know how much I hunger for you? Darling, you wouldn’t know half of it. It’s a constant battle between you and my other goal...
You suddenly start crying. Loudly. “I MISS MY BONES...”
He’s on his feet instantly, hands gentle, voice soothing. “Your bones are still with you. You’re okay.” He pats your head, smoothing out the fuzz/strands with gentle precision despite the fact he wants to yank it out for irritating him with your wailing.
You sniffle, then stop crying just as fast. “Oh. Okay.” You stare at him again. “Do you ever think about how worms don’t need to rent?”
“…All the time,” he lies, sighing. He removed his hand before he decided to act on his impulses.
You sigh contentedly and flop back onto the pillow. “Ya know, you’re my favorite person, Taffy Candy. You know I love you right?”
Tamsy watches you, annoyance buzzing under his skin, tangled up with something far more inconvenient.
Unbelievable. Loud. Nonsensical. Offensive under medication.
He holds your hand anyway. ‘You know I love you right?’
Zanka had prepared himself for a lot of things. Blood. Screaming. Missions going sideways. Losing sleep. Losing fights. Not that he’d admit that last part to anyone.
...Not as much as I apparently love you.
You didn’t notice, but that uncanny grin slowly worked it’s way on his face.
Even better! Breaking their trust once a relationship has been established! They just made things so easy for me and don’t even know it!
He had not prepared himself for this.
You were sitting up in the bed, blanket half-slid off your shoulder, staring at your own hands like they were foreign objects. Your brows slowly knit together in deep concentration.
Your ass was being overly confident with a trash beast and that’s how you ended up here. No wonder you and Zanka are besties amirite.
“…These aren’t my hands,” you muttered.
Zanka stiffened. “They're absolutely your hands.”
You looked up at him with betrayed awe. “Why would you lie to me like that.”
“I’m not lyin’,” he said, already rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re still under anesthesia. You’re confused.”
Inside his head: Please don’t say anything embarrassing. Please don’t say anything that’ll haunt me forever.
You squinted at him for a long second. Then you smiled. Softly.
“Ohhh,” you said. “You’re my boyfriend.”
His heart hammered. WHAT.
You nodded seriously, continuing not noticing you were exposing your feelings for him. “—Which is good. Because at first, I didn’t trust you.”
“…What.”
“You look like someone who’d steal my organs,” you whispered, leaning closer. “But in a respectful way.”
Zanka stared at you.
This is the person I daydreamed spending my life with.
He gently adjusted the blanket around you, voice steady, calm, patient. “Look. No one is stealing anything from you.”
You grabbed his sleeve suddenly. Tight. “If I die,” you said earnestly, “please don't read my diary. I have too many embarrassing feelings I’ve written about you.”
You frowned. “Wow. Aggressive.”
“You’re not dyin’,” he snapped before he could stop himself, ears burning red.
They wrote about me? Are they serious? They really like me? Me? An average joe? Why not someone...hmph. Nevermind. I deserve to have something nice.
He took a breath. Lowered his voice. “Sorry. You’re just…sayin’ a lot of things very confidently.”
You brightened. “Oh! Then listen to this.” You leaned in conspiratorially. “I think you’re really hot. Like. Not just physically. Emotionally.”
This time, it was his face that burned instantly.
“That’s— you don’t needa say things like that right now,” he muttered, looking away. Not while you’re out of your mind...
You gasped. “HE’S BLUSHING!”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” you sang, then suddenly poked his chest. “You work too hard. You should lie down more. Like a cat.”
“…Why a cat.”
“Because you’re grumpy,” you said, eyes already drooping. “And I looove you~”
That one hit him square in the chest.
You slumped back against the pillow, half asleep now, mumbling something about soup and how he should eat better. Zanka stayed seated beside you, fingers lightly curled around yours, jaw tight.
Being emotionally vulnerable is very hard for him. If it’s you, Enjin, or Riyo though...
He sighs and looks down at the bed with a smile. The same bed he was in last week after his fight with ol’ dude.
The “hospital” room smells faintly of antiseptic and old blood, but that barely matters. Both- yes both, of you are on the edge of consciousness, anesthesia still simmering in your veins like some kind of liquid mischief.
...Then it’s not so bad. Not bad at all.
You’re sprawled across your shared bed, blankets twisted into a fort, and Jabber is half-leaning over you, half-trying to stabilize himself on the the frail sheets, hair a wild halo of locs around his head.
“Wait,” you slur, eyes wide and rolling like marbles, “I swear…I saw a bird in here…or was that you?”
“I’m…a bird,” Jabber replies immediately, because of course he does, waving one clawed hand dramatically. “No cap, I could really make a badass bird, clawin’ peoples eyes out...” he looks at the rings on his fingers, “—takin’ food from folks and makin’ ‘em hangry, hehehe...” he giggles.
You blink. “Yeeeessss. Big mood. But also…do you- are we…cheese?”
He squints, cocking his head. “We are. We are extremely cheese. But like, the…cheddar of the century. Legendary big cheese. You feel me?”
You grab his arm for support—or maybe just for fun—and collapse back into the pillows. “Jabber loooook there’s piCKLESSS!” You point at the blank wall with stars in your eyes.
“OoOooOhh prEtty PickLes, pretTy piCkles Oohhh Oh mY gAwd PRETTY PICKLESSS!!" Jabber yells, envisioning glittery pickles. Of all colors. All in glitter. For some reason.
It was only a couple minutes later that you grabbed Jabber’s hand like it was a lifeline, or maybe a baton for a relay race—and dragged him up.
You twirled into him. He spun into the IV stand. The IV stand wobbled, almost fell. You both squealed like hyenas.
“I… I am…soooo obsessed with you, you know that right—” you tried telling him. Jabber looked at you with glee. Somehow, this confession became dancing. Chaotic, uncoordinated, wildly flailing dancing.
“Respectttt the pickle juice!” you shouted, kicking a chair with a perfect lack of rhythm.
Jabber crashed into the bedside table, sending water (?) cups, papers, and a tray of medical (?) equipment flying. “I’M SORRY! I'M A FUCKIN’ SLIME LIAISON!”
Then came the sound of boots. The door swung open, and the “nurse” appeared, eyes wide.
“…What. The. Absolute. Hell.” she said, voice deadpan. “Get out. Both of you. You’re so DONE. Done, done, DONE. Your time here is over. You can collapse on the floor outside, I do not care.”
You and Jabber exchanged a glance. Somehow, you nodded in agreement, grabbed each other, and tripped over the mess you’d created, tumbling outside like a pair of drunken acrobats.
The nurse looked at you two go and slammed the door with very suspicious looking red paint.
Then a flash of blues, yellows, and greens appeared on the wall by the small “hospital” nearby. You and Jabber slowly lifted your heads up.
By the time anyone could intervene, you were both sprawled in a heap outside, limbs entwined, eyes half lidded. Jabber’s head rested against yours. Inside, he was absolutely, irreparably in love with this nonsense. And you.
Awww you liked him! Well, he likes you too!
“Are you...a blueberry perchance,” you asked with a weird accent.
“Nah babe, since when are blueberries muscular...you’re tweakin’ real bad. That’s a uh, what’s it called...chobani greek yogurt.”
Cthoni looked down at both of you with a very irritated expression in her otherwise blank eyes. Then, without warning, lifted you both up and threw you in her portal.
“What’s greek yogurt? Is she it? Can I eat her?”
“Is this what being in a higher dimensioN fEEls LikE—” You couldn’t finish and Jabber couldn’t answer you as white covered your vision and you were suddenly elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Cthoni had to brace herself to deal with you two now that you were back at the base. Too bad Zodyl couldn’t just get rid of them.
...
“And then! They said they’re OBSESSED WITH ME. HOLY SHIIIIT I HIT THE JACKPOT BOSS!!” Jabber sang, excited as he awaited Zodyls response.
This was the day after.
Zodyl sighed. “As long as this new, partnership of yours, doesn’t override my plans I do not care. Dismissed.”
toootes not self indulgent but can i get some of tamsy with a rockstar-ish reader, like he actually fws them heaavyyy. maybe later down the road he discovers she’s exactly like him, absolutely fucked up in the head and just wants to watch the world burnnn
Pairing: Tamsy Caines x gn!reader
Warning: Tamsy
Genre: Dark Humor, Mystery
A/N: Guess who’s back. I DEFEATED THE VIRUS 😤
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
Guess who’ll be pulling all the strings 🎶
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
You were…loud.
Not in the annoying way that Tamsy himself couldn’t stand, but in the way a storm is loud; impossible to ignore, impossible to outrun, impossible to sleep through. Wherever you went, there was the scrape of metal, the twang of strings vibrating like live wires. Silence died in your presence; sound lived.
Some people adored it. Some hated it.
To the overstimulated cleaners, you were chaos incarnate. To the under-stimulated? You were a drug.
To Tamsy, though? You were art. One of a kind even.
Not “pure” like he usually liked to pick apart, but something better. A performer who never shut up even when you weren’t speaking. A giver whose presence buzzed against the air like a live current.
And your music…
Yeah, he liked it. The guitar on your back, patched with stickers and chipped paint, wasn’t just decoration. Every time you plucked its strings, the air warped; the sonic shock hitting like a blunt-force kick to the chest. He’d watched whole trash beasts crumble under your riffs like they’d been hit with a wrecking ball.
He thought it was beautiful.
Not that he’d admit why.
Rock wasn’t something he went around talking about.
He never told Delmon, never told Enjin, never told anyone. That was a luxury; hobbies, interests, humanity. What good was that to the plan? Why give people more pieces of himself than necessary?
But you…you were something else. He could imagine having you around long-term.
Not as a friend. He didn’t do those. At least not genuinely.
Not as a partner...how silly.
More like…a fellow worker. A convenient, powerful, extremely entertaining asset.
Your guitar could break bones without touching them. Your songs left people dizzy. Your energy rattled his brain in a way he found uncomfortably addictive.
And the best part?
When your enemies screamed after one of your sonic hits, Tamsy wasn’t listening to them.
He was listening to you, breathless, amused, almost glowing with the thrill of damage done.
Pain made sense to him. Chaos made sense to him. You made sense to him.
But what he didn’t realize was that you weren’t just loud. You weren’t just talented. You weren’t just a walking concert with a death count.
You were somewhat insane too.
Just like him.
Hidden in plain sight.
And waiting.
—
You never realized how loud your life was until you stood next to someone like Riyo. Someone whose silence wasn’t quiet at all, but sharp. She had that sideways-glance energy, that “I’m thinking about stabbing someone for fun” calm. Honestly? It was comforting.
The two of you sat on a rooftop edge just outside the Cleaners’ HQ, legs dangling over the side, both pretending you weren’t avoiding training again.
Riyo twirled her scissors lazily, eyes half-lidded, wind messing up her bangs.
“So,” she asked, tone flat as ever, “How’s the whole… giver-rock-concert thing going for you?”
You shrugged. “Eh. Same as always. I looove fighting with music and questionable self-control.”
“That’s one way of living.”
“It’s the only way for me, really.”
Riyo snorted. Then she stretched her fingers, knuckles popping one by one on instinct.
You perked up immediately.
“…Hey Riyo.”
“What’s up?”
“Crack your knuckles again.”
She paused mid-stretch, slowly turning her head toward you like a suspicious cat.
“Why?”
“I like the sound.”
She stared at you for a long, judgemental beat.
“…You’re weird. Very much weird.”
“I know.”
But she still lifted her hands and deliberately cracked every finger, each pop crisp and satisfying.
You couldn’t contain your giggles, “Yesss…thank you!”
Riyo grimaced. “Okay, you’re actually deranged.” But was she also not to some extent?
Before you could defend yourself, a voice echoed behind you:
“Yooooo! Riyo! You good?? Do you need oil in your bones or something?”
You didn’t even need to turn around. That was undeniably Enjin, walking contradiction of menace energy and uncle vibes.
Riyo sighed like his existence offended her. It didn’t though. He was loved by her like a daughter to her father.
“No. I’m fine.”
You waved lazily. “I just asked her to crack her knuckles. I like the sound.”
Enjin blinked at you. Once. Twice.
Then he let out the most disappointed exhale known to man.
“Ohhh,” he said, nodding slowly. “You’re just being a weirdo like usual.”
“Wow. Harsh.”
“I mean.” He gestured vaguely at you. “It’s on brand.”
Riyo laughed, covering her mouth with her sleeve.
You threw your hands up. “Excuse me for having taste!”
Enjin shrugged. “Look, as long as it’s not a dangerous kind of weird— I’m too tired to fill out another injury report.”
Riyo pointed her scissors at you. “Yeeeuuuh. Keep the weird in moderation.”
“But still do the knuckle thing again later,” you whispered.
Riyo groaned. “Please.”
Enjin patted the top of your head like you were a misshapen plant. “Yup. Totally hopeless.”
You just leaned back on your palms, smirking. “And yet, beloved.”
“By who?” Enjin deadpanned.
“Me,” you answered immediately.
He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t hide the small grin playing at his lips.
“Oh by the way, do y’all know where Tamsy is? I miss my bestie.”
Enjin and Riyo looked at each other then back to you.
“Oh, you two are besties? Thought you were more than that,” Riyo stated nonchalantly, extending her wrist out.
“Right? They’re attached to the hip. But yeah, Tamsy should be around here somewhere. I don’t really talk to the axolotl, even though he’s cool,” Enjin shrugged.
You sputtered, “Axolotl?!”
Enjin grinned. “A-yuuup. His hair and smile makes him look like one. That’s not a bad thing either.”
“Then what do you look like?” You challenged.
“Mmmm...” Enjin pretended to think. “—I dunno. How ’bout a wolf?” he bared his teeth playfully.
“Not a chance,” both you and Riyo said simultaneously.
“Aw, but whyyy???”
“Enjin—” You sighed, not knowing whether to laugh or to scream at him. Why would you scream at him though?
“Look. Ima go find my mans. Bye byeee~” You waved at them and fled off.
“...Why are they like that?” Enjin asked Riyo.
“We’re all weird, it just is what it is. You collect children for a living. You might be the strangest one here,” Riyo pointed out.
Enjin looked appalled. “Yeah! Just to give y’all a chance at something else! How ungrateful, this why I don’t like kids...”
“Yeah? Well, your actions say otherwise. And we appreciate you. Don’t be so dramatic—”
—
It didn’t take long for you to find Tamsy. He was chilling in the common room. In fact, he just came back from buying Semiu her, uhm, magazines.
“Tamsyyyy!!” You called out.
He turned around with a soft smile that you always wondered if it was genuine or not.
“Hey, what’s up?” He calmly greeted you, per usual. You always thought that was funny considering when you were alone, he was more upbeat, blunt, and...it’s as if he had another side to him.
Not that it bothered you. It never did.
“Nothing. I just missed you. And I have a story to tell!”
“Hmm, let’s go to your room then.”
.
.
.
You push off the wall a little, twirling one of your guitar picks between your fingers like a coin. “So! I did do something kinda fun earlier.”
Tamsy’s eyes narrow with interest. “Fun how?”
There goes that subtle little shift—shoulders relaxing, chin tilted, pupils dilating just a liiittle too much. He’s ready.
“There was this creep,” you start, already making him grin internally. “Kept staring at Amo. Like, not normal staring—full-on bug-eyed, mouth-breathing weird.”
Tamsy’s eyebrow lifts.
“Oh?” His voice drops half an octave. “Do go on.”
“So I walk up to him, right?”
You gesture loosely, all casual bravado. “And I tell him, ‘Hey. Blink twice if you’ve ever interacted with a woman before.’”
Tamsy looks at you. “Did he blink?”
“Not fast enough. So I strummed a single chord. Just one. Sent him flying into a stack of crates so hard the whole thing collapsed. Pretty sure the echo hurt more than the impact.”
There’s a beat.
And then Tamsy lights up.
Not big or dramatic—he’s too controlled for that.
But that smile—that slight curling, unhinged smile that he only displays around you, creeps across his face like a secret he can’t wait to unwrap.
“…That’s beautiful,” he says, almost reverent.
You blink. “The chord or the guy hitting the crates?”
“The moment his ribs got crushed” he answers instantly, eyes bright with a sick excitement he doesn’t even bother hiding. “I wish I’d seen his face right before impact.”
He steps closer, practically vibrating with delighted energy now.
“Tell me—did he scream? Did he try to run?”
You laugh. “Could barely scream. His ribs were crushed, dude.”
“Oh.”
He looks way too satisfied regardless.
Then he gives you that look—the one that says you are exactly my kind of problem.
“…You know,” he murmurs, voice dipping with amusement, “the more I learn about you, the more I like your methods.”
“So why do you only show this side of you to me?” You raised your brows. You knew something was wrong with you, and you barely hid it, instead masking it as having weird quirks. Such as liking the sounds of bones cracking.
“Takes one to know one, does it not?”
Oh.
Ohhhhhh.
“Is there anything more I should know about you then Tam Tam?” You leaned closer to him.
“Well,” it didn’t matter that he was close to you. He still wasn’t going to involve you in his plans with Rudo or the Sphere. You and him may have a lot in common but at the end of the day, he wouldn’t put you above himself.
That’s what made this...relationship? Situationship? So tragic.
Unless you felt the same way. Then it was whatever. And honestly? He hoped you felt the same way. He didn’t need a different kind of love from his own. There was only one act.
“No, not particularly,” he decided to respond as cryptic as possible. He was tired of acting like a jolly man, sure, and he didn’t mind letting his mask slip in front of you to some extent. But all the way? Hm, no. Not yet at least.
“You know what I think?” You smiled, twirling around. “I think you’re a manipulative bastard who thinks what he’s doing is right and genuinely can’t see that it’s wrong because you have some twisted idea of love. Yeah. As you said. It takes one to know one.”
You continued.
“But at least I know that I’m a danger to others. I just don’t care. You might be more sick than me as you are out of touch with reality. You think your way is the right way. I think my ways are wrong, I just don’t give a fuck.” You smiled.
There it was. Your mask fully off.
Indeed, you were two different types of insanity. That’s why despite having a broken mental state, you two were like oil and water for the most part. You could come into contact but never, ever mix.
Tamsy’s eyes widened. Did you somehow know of his plans?
“Man, you need to do better at hiding your true self if you really have some secret plans that would most likely disrupt the cleaner organization. You cannot hide your smirks, your mischief, your wrongness, whenever something happens to Rudo. Now can you?”
1...
“I don’t know what you need from a literal kid, but my god—”
2...
“I know we all have our reasons for being here, but you know what? As much as I like you, I kinda want to start something just for fun. And no, just like you I don’t care if it hurts them in the process.”
3.
“So what would you do if I exposed—”
You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt strings wrap around your body, with a quickness, very tightly.
You choked, feeling the strings tighten around your torso, slightly digging in. But you knew not to move as that would make it worse.
You fell to the floor, not being able to stand from the heaviness of it. You slowly look up.
Tamsy was looking down at you, with a serious but wicked expression.
“Do I need to end our little...partnership here and now? Or will you hush and comply like you should be doing?”
Your eyes drooped. “Damn. I mean. I’ll comply. Why not? I do want to see how things go, y’know?”
Tamsy narrowed his eyes at you, before making the strings wrap around your mouth and then exiting your room.
Oh? Where’s he going?
Your question was quickly answered when he returned with a book. A book with a weird symbol.
Is that the watchman symbol?
Your eyes widened. What’s Tamsy doing with a watchman piece? Rudo was the only one with his gloves...or so that's what you were told.
Just what were Tamsy’s plans with Rudo? You knew there was something going on, you just didn’t know what.
Tamsy kneeled before you.
“I truly,” you rolled your eyes. He’s so dramatic. “—didn’t want to have to do this, and don’t roll your eyes at me.”
You deadpanned at him next.
Suddenly, he grins. You don’t like that grin. Yes you do.
“Tell you what,” he chirps, smiling at you with his eyes closed. “I won’t do anything to you. You just have to promise that whatever you know stays between us.”
You looked at him crazy. “There’s no way you’re letting me go.”
He boops your nose. “But of course, my dear! I like you far too much to consider....ending your life. However!” He raises a finger, “—that doesn’t mean I won’t consider it later! Just don’t make me get to that point and all is well.”
He was serious. It didn't matter how close you got.
You peered at him. He continues, “—So you know I need something from Rudo, but you don’t know exactly what, right?”
You nod. As much as you can.
“Ah. Good! Mind your business!”
This guy...
“I just got an idea! You’re going to have your own little role in my plans. Should you tell Rudo anything that happened today...well, then it was interesting knowing you.”
You actually didn’t give a fuck what he has going on with the kid, when was he going to understand this? The only reason you exposed him of the little knowledge you had was because you enjoyed seeing the panic on people’s faces. Yes, even those you genuinely like.
“So Tams, I couldn’t care less what you have going on. I’m not close to him at all. Do what you want. I just want to see where this is all going. And pray tell, what’s my role in this exactly?”
Tamsy put a finger to his chin, right where his piercing was.
“I can’t say yet. I’ll tell you when the time comes.” Inner Tamsy grimaced, annoyed. WELL CHANGE OF PLANS! NOW I NEED TO GET YOU A NEW ROLE, FUCKING- UGH! I WAS PLANNING FOR THEM TO-
“Just admit you like me too much to actually get rid of me, even in an apparently dire situation such as this. Just this once.”
Tamsy unravels his strings from you, and it’s then that you can finally breathe. You take a huge breath, satisfied with the oxygen properly circulating in your body again.
You looked at the book in his hand. “So...what does that do exactly?”
“What did we say about minding our business, dear?”
You scoffed.
Inner Tamsy pursed his lips. Erasing their memories would serve him nothing since he doesn’t know how they partially know of his thing with Rudo. It would only serve to help them forget this specific day. They’d still have the knowledge of his plans. However they got it.
So what was the next plan? Just resume pretending to be their friend. Or partner. Whatever the hell it is they have going on.
“How about we forget this and move on,” Tamsy offered.
“Nah, I wanna know what that book does.”
Tamsys eye twitched.
“Alright, alright! You know what. Let me string a chord, just for you.”
—
Rudo was arguing with Dear Santa over a cookie. A small cookie at that. Would it be fair to just give it to him?
No. No, he always sacrifices his sweets to the little 10 year old! Regto would be proud of him for his selflessness, but now it’s time to be selfish!
Baring his teeth, Rudo yelled “Not today! Back off! This is MINE!” And then he swallowed the cookie whole.
How that’s physically possible? Nobody knows.
Dear Santa backed off, grumbling behind his pacifier.
Just then, you came into the scene with a big smile. Tamsy behind you, looking a bit drained for whatever reason.
Rudo waved. “Hey guys!” He liked you and Tamsy. He thought of you two as his older siblings if he ever had any.
“Hi Ru, would you like me to play you a song?”
Rudo stared. “I— I mean, I never got to hear any nice music up there. So...sure?”
“Okay!” You got out your guitar.
Unbeknownst to everyone, including Tamsy, sonic booms wasn’t the only thing your Guitar could do.
It could also manipulate frequencies.
And you wanted to use it on Rudo to see just what...power he was hiding, and if it’s what Tamsy was so interested in. Your frequency could mingle with his own frequency. And that could either be a very good or very bad thing.
You were hoping for the latter.
Why not more chaos? Besides. That’s what you did with Tamsy when you played your song for him. Just a few chords was all it took. Manipulate his anima for your own purposes.
It’s as you said earlier. Tamsy does wrong but is so fucked in the head that he thinks it’s right.
You know right from wrong. You just don’t care.
And now you were going to see just what was so special about this spherites anima that attracted not just Tamsy, but everyone. Including yourself.
You’ve been messing with everyone’s anima since the first time you got to Cleaners HQ.
With just your guitar. Music is a good manipulator.
