notes. angst + comfort. gn! reader. hey guys, i wrote this while i was in my feels haha lol
𖥔 ݁ ˖ MASH BURNEDEAD
he's the absolute sweetest. will do whatever it takes to not let your salty tears flow from the corner of your eyes. mash brings you whatever is closest to him— a half eaten cream puff, a plastic toy dumbbell, one in a million of his cream puff plushies that you got for him when you're at the market. whatever it is, he will bring you things to just see you smile. he's so clueless, he doesn't know how else to comfort you. but he tries. he tries his hardest like it's his last mission.
"oh no, please don't cry," he said softly, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before he frantically looks around to grab something. anything will do. as long as it'll distract whatever calamity that storms around in your mind.
mash gives up with that, seeing that your tears have built up in such a large amount that it stars to carefully flow down your cheeks in such distress. that does not stop him from trying. his fingers found their way to quickly wipe away the flowing tears from your cheeks. he keeps doing it over and over; wiping your tears that kept flowing until his own fingers are stained with wet and salty tears.
finally, he holds your cheek, cupping it slightly even though your cheeks are wet. he looks at your eyes for a moment, scanning over the gloss of it before he finally pulls you into a hug. arms wrapped tightly around you, pushing you into his body so you could listen his heart as he silently lets you wail the rest of your remaining tears out.
𖥔 ݁ ˖ RAYNE AMES
post-crying has you all empty inside and out. your eyes down to the bottom of your jaw is all stained. the aftermath of letting it all out has allowed exhaustion to surface. but rayne is there with you. he's there with you throughout the entire process. he's all ears and all about listening to your stories and your rambles and your tears. rayne will not leave you unattended like this— shattered into pieces. he will always mend you back up with his kisses.
rayne presses his lips under your the corner of your eye where the first stream of tears flowed down. then he moves down, dragging his lips across your skin to place chaste and reassuring kisses onto your tear-stained cheeks. his thumb grazes over the dry tears that remains to dry, kissing on the trail that was left behind.
so gentle and careful, as if not to break your shattered pieces anymore. he's mending them carefully with the work of his lips kissing all over your face. and it works wonderfully, because the moment his lips pauses in front of your own lips, you looked into his eyes, your own eyes blurry from crying so much.
he then presses his lips on yours. a quick kiss that tells you so much which he couldn't utter out. it's all about the way he carries out every single action with so much love and care that you could feel your shattered soul is being glued back, pieces by pieces, with his love that seeped into your broken soul, filing up every brokenness. "it'll be okay. i'm right here."
𖥔 ݁ ˖ ORTER MÁDL
orter holds your hand while you speak your mind. it's not just simply holding your hands— he's seated on the ground beside your wooden chair, ranting your heart out as his fingers caresses your fingers. his gaze is focused on your hands, watching as your fingers would occasionally squeeze his own in frustration. orter is silent throughout this entire process, and when he thinks you're done pouring your agitated heart out, he glances up when you're all silent.
"need someone to lean on?" he asked as you nodded, biting your lower lips to surpress anything that might make a debut. orter stands up and pulls your head close to him, your head immediately leaning into his chest as you touched your fingers where orter's touch lingers around in comfort.
his fingers weaved their way into your hair, smoothing it out as he could feel your shaking under his embrace. orter cannot stay still. it wasn't long before he shifted his position, now kneeling on the ground, somewhat close to your height before he looks right at you, eyes burning into your tainted heart. you can feel his fingers wrapping them around yours, the absence disappearing only to fill with a warm sense of comfort with his warm hands.
then, a warm kiss placed on your knuckles, to remind you that you're never alone and that he'll always be there to hold your hands no matter what. "let it out, i won't ever let go of you."
Wirth*Is sitting on a bench, glaring at the soil beneath him...Talking about his experience with his father's emotional abuse and always comparing him to his older brother* -He was turning me into a weapon...for "Madl Family"...He said, He got his weapon...I got cheated out of my childhood
Magicless!Y/n*Sitting next to him, looking and rubbing his back*I know...what that's like...
Wirth*Leans on them,slumped*You do, Don't you?...
In the park the two were having a moment, Orter wanted to check on them...and he was heard something that pained him
Hello! this idea has been rotting in my head for weeks lmao okay but like- innocent zero x magicless wife hence explaining mash's lack of magic. but also like, it's a forced marriage but somehow they ended up enjoying each other's company IF YOU GET WHAT I MEAN HEHEHE
i think i do get it, but if i totally didn't, i apologize ;v;
reader is fem! reader
ᵉⁿᵉᵐⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉʳˢ, ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ !!
being innocent zero's wife includes...
he kind of saved your life from the bureau, which is why the two of you got married. he wanted your body in return for saving you, so you got married to him, was annointed husband and wife, and never knew peace ever again.
not in the way that innocent zero was a bad husband, but he wasn't good either. other than when he's getting you pregnant, he doesn't really treat you like you exist.
to him, you're just another pawn in his plans.
but that is far from meaning he'll let people do whatever they want with you. what's his is his and will stay as such, no one else gets to have you. if there's someone mistreating you, he'll get rid of them, only because he's possessive af like that.
generally speaking, your first son, doom, was a good kid. he was well-mannered, though he had a strong capacity for magic. and honestly, you prevented your husband from training doom until the boy was eight, saying he should have a proper childhood at least.
doom is equally protective of you, not allowing your husband to let his anger out on you for not obeying him and being a good son. you've taken care of him for years, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let you get hurt for something small.
famin is a bit more unhinged, but he still shows some form of care for you. he plays pranks on you with his invisibility magic, but it's usually him popping out of nowhere with a small bouquet of flowers he got from the forest.
i like to think famin was one of the clingier ones when he was a kid, just to be a brat to your husband. he has a heavy favoritism over you than his father and it SHOWS
doom makes it a little hard to tell, but you're his favorite too. he would die before he forgets the love and care you've given him.
now a little fun fact about epidem is that you turned into a major sweet tooth during your pregnancy with him, with your most common craving being pudding. it'd explain his obsession with it, but i don't think any parent would have expected things to go that far.
you've tried getting him to eat something else, but he only eats begrudgingly knowing his father is going to punish you because he doesn't have a good diet.
he's seen you get beat to the moon and back because of him, he won't let it happen again.
delisaster is probably the most clingiest and brattiest kid in the whole family.
he'll cause chaos everywhere he can, even when you try to control the damage, he gets things messed up pretty bad.
you actually got into the most trouble with innocent zero because of him, but he didn't care until doom forced him to watch you get punished for his wrongdoings.
he was, reasonably, terrified because his father just beat up his mother into a bloody pulp without hesitation, and he began to see why you were so stressed about him having good manners. not only could he be punished, but you were going to be hurt the most.
it's not enough to have him completely obedient, but he'll better his manners for you only.
he essentially becomes a mama's boy, listening to your naggings without complaining, doing a complete 180 in terms of personality when it comes to you in front of his subordinates.
after what he saw all those years ago, he would never find it in himself to disrespect you.
domina was mostly raised by innocent zero because you fell ill after giving birth. you weren't there to shield him from the damage, and would beg doom to protect domina as much as he could without endangering himself.
and obviously, domina grows up hating you because he thought you didn't like him, when that was the furthest thing from the truth.
he probably won't learn until innocent zero is defeated, you're finally free from the horrible marriage you've experienced, and you're free to live as you please.
there were no charges given to you after hearing what your sons and husband had to say.
the most contribution you had was literally birthing seven sons, and you even went as far as protecting them from the man himself, which didn't earn you many punishments to give.
at that point, domina willingly visits you and finally takes a good look at how ragged you are.
you're worse off than everyone in the family, having gone through too much stress and illnesses and injuries that your body couldn't heal itself like it was supposed to.
he visits every weekend now, sometimes bringing his friends along so you have happier memories to keep you company when he's not there with you.
helps you find hobbies to spend your free time with and will get you a bunch of novels and books so you're not left alone with your thoughts.
mash, despite being taken from you so early, had taken a part of your heart with him, and you were nearly inconsolable after he disappeared. you were hoping you could protect him more than you did domina, only for your husband to be crueler than before.
when he hears that he has a mother, he was rather shocked. and scared, honestly.
he's lived with regro his whole life, and only sixteen years in he learns he had a mom this whole time?
he doesn't blame you for not looking for him because he had a feeling you did a lot.
the first time mash and regro visit you, you were crying for most of the time, apologizing over and over for not being able to raise him properly and unable to protect him from his own father.
regro insists that it was okay. mash was a wonderful kid to raise, and you did nothing wrong. the only one to be blamed for all of it was innocent zero, and with him gone, you were free to spend as much time as you wanted with mash.
regro was content with letting you raise mash, knowing that you were nothing close to innocent zero the moment you started bawling at the mere sight of your son.
the old man could tell not being able to raise mash hurt you a lot, and seeing him as a grown boy only rubbed salt into your wound.
so the next time he came along, he got you a photo album of mash's baby pictures, so you could see the whole process of his growth. you thanked him so many times, regro wondered when you were going to run out of tears.
mash, after having spent some time with you, gets pretty attached to you.
perhaps it's knowing the fact he's your real son or the fact you treated him like glass, but a month after mash started visiting you every other day, he started sitting on your hospital bed then placing his head on your lap, letting you play with his hair, and so on.
after you start feeling better, you start asking the divine visionaries if you could see your sons and husband, which they deny heavily at first.
and shockingly, the first one to cave is actually ryoh.
as a married man with a kid, he had a feeling you cared a lot for not just your sons, but for innocent zero too.
he has no idea what you saw in him, but perhaps that was what kept you from running away from him for so long.
and turns out, a few months after sitting in a prison cell was enough for your husband to realize he cared about you a lot.
after most of your kids were grown, he started to soften around you a lot without even knowing. he'd look at the injury you had for a month and got worried, knowing that he was keeping your body in perfect condition the whole time, but your immune system stopped working.
thus, he was severely overprotective of you but covered it under the guise of not wanting you to cause more trouble for him later.
he carried you around a lot, kept you on his lap whenever he was sitting on his throne, never brought you to the battlefield, and did his overall best to take care of you in a roundabout way as to thank you for giving him his children.
he's visibly shocked when you show up at his cell, thinking he was hallucinating at first.
he doesn't recall feeling so relieved to see someone, but here you were.
he's grabbing your hand, making sure you're recovering okay, his eyes are scanning every inch of your body, and everything to make sure you weren't being mistreated. he might as well let the world burn if you weren't being treated well.
when you tell him how happy you were that you got to spend more time with mash and domina, cyril doesn't know what to say.
he knows he's the reason for all the pain you've gone through, and he didn't deserve to even see you so happy, but a part of him was happy you were still thinking about him.
maybe the two of you meant something to each other but never got the time or chance to talk about how you felt towards each other.
he hopes, that in in another life, he would have a chance to treat you well.
Orter knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. Get through the police training, scale the ranks of divine visionary and crush anyone who refused to submit to the law. Simple goals to him, his one true path, but his elders thought otherwise. They demanded an heir to the Madl name and they set their sights on Orter to achieve that.
“I refuse.” the elderly man sighs “Orter, you have power and skills that would strengthen our bloodline. You cannot deny that and you cannot deny us.” his wisen hands stroke through a greying beard “This was not us asking permission, simply giving you a chance to process before the ceremony.” Orter’s hands curl into fists, doing his best to remain polite “So be it. When will I need to return?” he asks, resigning himself to his fate “In two months.” Orter stands, bows, and leaves.
You were raised for this, shaped and molded to be the perfect spouse, the perfect homemaker. A pretty face to sit alone in a home waiting for your husband to return so you could meet his every need.
Despite that, you dreaded this moment. Draped in fine silks and expertly crafted metals, donned in the best attire to be handed over to a man you had never met. A man you were forced to spend the rest of your life with. You had dreams, ambitions, the ever growing hope that nobody would accept your families marriage proposals so you could slip away and live in silence. Your luck falls through as always, and you’re sealed into a contract you had no say in.
The Madl house was well known for producing high quality magic, always two-liners. What they claim is the auspicious union blessed by the gods, you call selective breeding. The only reason why you were even considered and chosen was because you were also a two-liner, though what they don’t know is how little you can control or produce your own magic, something your family had gone lengths to hide.
You begin walking down the aisle, your elegant fashion being a stark contrast from the man waiting at the end of the row for you. A simple three piece suit, work-wear more than wedding attire, his jacket thrown lazily across his shoulders. His face didn’t betray his emotions but his eyes did, swirling yellows full of irritation and disdain as he tracks your movements.
He performs well, to avoid the ire of his elders. Recites the words, lifts your veil, shares the drink, but refuses to kiss you. This would be a representation of your future marriage, something you wish you had caught sooner.
Your time is meaningless here, nights fading into days so slowly you can’t fully process it. You often lay awake, dreading if Orter would choose to consummate the marriage, but you’re blessed with a silent room each night.
Coming from wealth meant that the Madl home always bustled with servants, leaving your days dull, not even able to clean or tidy. You would sit in the garden for hours, unmoving and quiet, watching birds escape over the fence. You had tried to make conversation with the maids who tended to you in the mornings and evenings but they never responded, fulfilling their duties and disappearing.
Since the wedding you had only seen Orter twice, both times were only because your respective families had visited and he was required to attend. Both times he didn’t acknowledge your presence, both times he left as soon as the guests did, both times you were left alone wondering what about you was so vile that you couldn’t even earn a greeting from him.
A year passes and nothing changes, if not getting worse. You heard through the grapevine that Orter often complained of being married, how you tied him down and made it impossible for him to relax in his own home with you constantly hovering around.
After that you choose to stay in your room, taking your meals there, spending your time reading or even drawing on the few pieces of paper you had managed to squeeze out of a servant. Your fingers were stained with charcoal, little smudges of soot smeared across your dresses at the end of the day, black fingerprints decorating the floorboards.
You allowed yourself a small indulgence once, a beautiful illustration of Orter dancing with you on your wedding day, instead of the cold gaze filled with disgust, you had given him a soft smile full of love. Truly an indulgence, curiosity clouding your mind briefly, wondering what it might be like if he cared for you. But the next day Orter flung your bedroom door open, startling you enough to crush your charcoal.
His eyes scan the room before landing on the drawing of you two, snatching it and immediately ripping it to shreds “Never sully my image with your fantasies again.” he snarled at you. Pure, raw disgust shining on his face. He had caught a servant whispering about your new hobby, followed by the same servant mentioning how you drew him cradling you in such a loving embrace. It had turned his stomach just thinking about how you dared to do that.
You stopped drawing, tucking away all your supplies in fear that he would come for them next. From then on you only ate, bathed and stared out your window. An endless cycle.
The next time Orter overheard the servants talking about you was during his dinner a few months later. Feeling blissful in the silence without you sitting at the other end of the table.
“The young Madl is still refusing meals.”
He frowns, sipping his tea. Why would you refuse food? Were you too good for it? He thinks to himself, chuckling quietly. Of course you’re too good for his food, spoiled brat.
Once again Orter graces you with his attention. He shoves the door open, expecting you to flinch and cower like you had last time. You don’t even budge, seated on your knees, head tilted up to watch the stars. It’s like you didn’t even hear him. He scowls, sure that you’re pouting and moping. As he strides closer he finally sees how your clothes hang so much looser on your frame, how your eyes are slightly glazed over, your lips parted as if keeping your mouth closed required too much effort. It startles him so greatly that he turns and walks away, not wanting to bear witness to the outcome of his constant neglect of his spouse.
I'm surprised to get two Orter Madl angst requests but I'm not gonna lie, he's such a fun character to write angst for considering how whimsical and fun the MASHLE anime is. I hope you liked this Anon!
- Ketchup
synopsis. in which you suddenly disappear without rhyme or reason, and mash spends the rest of his life waiting for you.
pairing. mash x musician!fem!reader | wc. 2.6k | genres. some fluff, angst no happy ending! | warnings. reader’s death is offscreened
notes. special order for @kyoghurts — this is long overdue and i almost never write for mash so sorry if he’s off but your idea was too good to pass on. just tweaked a little. (you can thank them for this one.)
mash and reader are the same age.
"and you and the rest of your clan will carry down this curse through the bloodlines of your descendants for it shall serve as a reminder of your sins against me. your firstborns will die the day after their 18th cycle of the earth, and there is no god above that will stop it from happening. it is a destiny you can never and will never escape for all of eternity.”
it is a majestic sound. a heavenly one. the chords carry through the enchanted forest, relaxing the trees and making flowers breathe sighs of relief.
the voice that accompanies the instrumentals is faint—soft and alluring. lyrics share the story of a mighty warrior and his beloved back home. curious, mash burnedead follows the source of the singing until it leads him to a fairly large pond, surrounded by green trees and blooming flora. the sunlight casts its glow over the body of water, allowing sparkles to dance across its surface.
mash finds you sitting atop a rock at the edge of the pond, so focused on your music that everything else in the world fades out. you strum at your lyre in memorized motions, as if the song was already part of your soul.
a leaf crinkles beneath his foot, and your eyes fly open, fingers freezing before they could strike another string. the surprise in your eyes does not deter mash. if anything, he doesn’t notice it.
“that’s a nice song you were playing.” he says, still standing in the same spot. you clutch your instrument closer to you.
“i’m mash burnedead. nice to meet you.” he continues, beginning to make his way around the pond.
“(y/n)…” you trail off, skeptical of the stranger stalking closer.
“are you hungry? i have creampuffs my pops baked.” mash tells you as he plops down next to the rock you’re sitting on.
you tilt your head. “creampuff?”
the mushroom head blinks in rapid succession. “have you never had a creampuff?”
you timidly shake your head, and mash takes that as the greenlight to hand you one of his. you accept it with some hesitancy but put enough trust in the stranger to take a small bite. mash senses it in the way your eyes widen and the way you rush in to take a second bite that you deeply enjoy the sweet treat.
"they're the best food in the world." the mushroom headed boy tells you. "did you know-" and then he's rambling on and on about this obsession with creampuffs. you don't interrupt him, allowing him to talk his head off because it's rather endearing. mash, of course, doesn't realize it. he doesn't see the interest you have for him growing in your eyes.
excited at the thought of having a new friend, mash returns after a few days with another basket of creampuffs. you smile when you see him and urge him to hurry up and sit by you.
on the surface, mash appears to be a quiet boy, but once you get him started, he doesn't seem to stop. he doesn't hesitate to update you on his life or narrate tales involving his friends or family. you'll only interject if you have something to say, but overall, you allow the mushroom head his moments. as he converses with you, you'll play a soft song on your lyre, just mindlessly plucking at chords you know will mesh well together.
mash never fails to compliment your skills, saying your songs are the best he's ever heard. the praise makes you stutter out a humble denial of how there are plenty of musicians better than you. that does not change mash's mind. he insists that you are the greatest.
one day, you offer to teach your new friend how to play. it goes as one would expect.
"ah. i messed up again." mash says listlessly after playing the wrong note of a basic song you were teaching him.
you giggle at his slipup. with a gentle smile on your face, you put your hand on his, guiding his fingers onto the right notes. your touch was soft, warm, and kind. it makes it difficult for mash to focus on the music, and really, he's only looking at you.
you let him try to play on his own again. mash still has not a single clue about what he's doing, but he's able to play a measure in perfect succession before messing up entirely.
you bite down another giggle, but your angelic laugh escapes your throat. your smile reaches your eyes. mash thinks you look really pretty like that.
"it's alright, mash. music is not everyone's talent." you assure him, taking your lyre from his grasp and setting it on your lap. "you make delicious creampuffs, and i think that is more than enough."
the tips of his ears burn red at the compliment. he's unsure why.
as the days drag on and the visits increase, mash has started to noticed that you're acting differently. you're not fully present in conversations, eyes staring so far ahead he thinks you're seeing a new world. as you practice new pieces, you'll play the wrong notes, and you'll mumble your lyrics. at times, you're not even playing songs. your fingers will mindlessly pluck at random strings, producing something that mash can't even call music.
he tries checking up on you, but you'll brush it off with a plastered smile before acting as you normally would. it's strange indeed, but if you say it's fine, then it should be, right?
the day of your 18th birthday rolls around, and mash has it all laid out on how he wants to spend it with you. he'll bring a delicious lunch that his pops cooked and a special kind of creampuff that's just for you. he'll bring a pack of cards so the two of you can play a few games that his good friend finn ames taught him how to play. to wrap everything up, he'll hand you his gift. it'll be a wonderfully fun day.
and it is exactly that. you show up to the pond in a pretty dress and a beautifully woven flower crown adorning your head. and with the way the sunlight hits your skin, mash thinks that you are ethereal.
your time together goes just as he planned. you don't waste a single crumb of the meal regro burnedead provided. mash brings out your special creampuff, even going as far as to bringing a candle to place on top of it. although, he kept breaking the matchsticks needed to light it, so you ended up having to light it yourself. he sang to you, rather poorly, but it's the thought that counts.
you play countless card games, ranging from speed, war, and slapjack, and when you get bored of that, you talk. it can never be a hangout with mash if there isn't an honest conversation.
"mash, have you ever kissed someone before?" you ask, a neutral expression on your face.
the mushroom headed boy is flustered by the question. he blinks. "i... i've never done that before."
you turn your head towards him. the embarrassment of your question now hits you. "would you ever want to kiss me?"
mash has never thought about it before. not once has it ever crossed his mind, but as he looks at you now with the beginnings of a sunset behind you, mash burnedead realizes that you are a force of nature. you are unforgettable in every way, shape, and form. your music resonates with the soul. your smile could blind the angels; your laugh could heal the earth. you are beautiful no matter what you do.
your presence is safety within itself, and mash really, really likes being with you. and so mash's eyes flicker down to your slightly parted lips. his head nods slightly.
yes. i would want to kiss you.
and you do. you lean in ever so slowly, faces so close together that your breaths fan against the other's skin. your eyes shut at the same time. you gently press your lips together, and time seems to stop. he can taste the faint flavor of the strawberry and vanilla creampuff filling on your lips. it's innocent and inexperienced but still sweet. it's enough to light fireworks in his stomach, and boy do they explode.
when you finally pull away, your eyes flutter open. your mouth opens so you could speak, yet no words tumble out. mash waits and anticipates what you could possibly say next. however, there is nothing in the world that could've prepared him for what comes out.
a wave of regret floods your face. a single tear carves its path down your cheek. you whisper, "don't come back here."
mash tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "what?"
you flinch. that is not what you were meant to say. "i'm sorry." you quickly apologize, not even trying to find an excuse or correct yourself. you scramble up and frantically search your lyre, only to realize that you don't have it on you. you didn't bring it today.
mash burnedead watches as you nearly fall trying to escape. you rip the flower crown off of your head, throwing it onto a random spot on the ground. you face mash. there is a waterfall of tears cascading down your skin. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i don't know why i did that. i really like you mash, i do, but i... i can't do this. there's no time. i'm... i'm sorry. you-you don't deserve this. i don't deserve you, mash. i'm sorry. please don't come back here. please."
he doesn't understand what you're saying one bit, and he isn't fast enough to stop you and demand an answer. by the time he reaches his arm out to plead with you to come back, you're already gone.
mash's arm falls to his side. he looks into the basket that he brought with him today.
he didn't get the chance to give you your gift.
mash still carries on your shared tradition despite your plea not to. he has to give you your birthday gift, and if he can get an explanation from you that would be nice too.
he takes that oh so familiar trail down to the pond, expecting to hear the songs of your lyre, but the enchanted forest is still, save for the few deer rummaging around. mash reaches the pond, and for the first time in months, you are not there.
that's fine. he can wait for you. he kills time by doing random workouts. he eats his creampuffs in silence. any crunch of a leaf will have mash twisting his head to the source of the sound, thinking that you've returned. each time it is nothing—only the common forest animal wandering about.
the sun begins to set. you still haven't come. mash thinks he'll come visit again next week.
next week comes. with it, it brings a new batch of freshly baked creampuffs that the mushroom headed boy is forced to eat alone because you haven't shown your face.
despite your lack of showing up, mash burnedead does not give up.
weeks become months. months stretch into years. even as he grows older, mash finds his way back to the pond, in hopes that you'll be there waiting for him.
he still eats those creampuffs. he sets your birthday gift onto the rock where you used to sit while he bides his time. he still works out, but lately mash has gotten into the habit of talking to himself. he'll tell all the stories that you have yet to hear because just maybe the wind will carry his words and have them reach your ears. he'll hum all the songs you played for him.
then the sun will grow tired and take its rest, and mash will pick up your birthday gift and go back home.
years stretch into decades—decades in which you haven't come to see him once. yet he still finds the energy within himself to come find your shared spot with him.
the pond has yet to change. it is still surrounded by thriving green trees. squirrels and other rodents continue to find their daily drink in its water, and the water continues to catch the sun rays up in the sky.
mash has changed. his body grows old. his skin wrinkles and sags. his body grows weak. his joints hurt everywhere. his brain is consumed with thoughts of you. he wonders what changes you went through. he wonders where you are and what you're doing. what kind of people are hearing your songs? he bets you are still as beautiful as the last time he saw you.
by the time he knows it, the sky is painted with its daily palette of orange, blue, and pink—a signal to head home. mash promises that he'll visit again.
however, mash's next visit will be his last. he realizes that his body can't keep up with it anymore. he is at his limit. still, he braves the trip one final time, bringing a few creampuffs and gifts with him that he'll finally leave behind.
the walk to the forest takes longer than mash would've liked, but he makes it nonetheless. he saunters over to your rock, sitting on the cold, smooth surface that was once yours. mash would've preferred sitting next to it, just as he did in his youth, but his knees can no longer handle bending that low.
mash sighs, craning his head up to the sky. a pair of birds fly over above him. "(y/n), i still think of you, y'know? i don't know where you are, but i'm sure you did amazing things. i wish i was there to see you do it.
"this will be the last time i come here. i wish i could've stuck it out for longer, but i will only hurt myself more if i do." he frowns. mash pushes himself off of your rock and stands before it. "however, i'll leave you with a few parting gifts before i go."
the once mushroom headed boy reaches into the basket he brought along with him. he sets a bag of three plain creampuffs onto the rock. next, mash carefully pulls out a flower crown that he personally weaved. all the flowers were taken from outside his home and the beloved enchanted forest.
"i always think about how nice you looked wearing one of these." mash says as he inspects his work one more time before placing it alongside the pastries.
and finally, mash reveals the birthday gift he was supposed to give you all those years ago with a reminiscent grin. "one of the greatest things about you was your music. you and that lyre were perfect partners, but even i could tell that that thing was old. so i thought, why not have another one?"
mash gently lays the instrument on top of the rock, allowing it to complete the trio of gifts. "i did my best to take care of it. i hope you like it."
the lonely old man doesn't say anything for a while. he only stares on as a wave of emotions surge in his heart. he puts a wrinkly hand on the wooden lyre. the corners of his lips pull into a small smile. "thanks for everything, (y/n). and just so you know, i really liked you too."
mash lets his hand linger for a moment before he pulls it away. he gathers the last of his belongings and leaves the pond behind, all while humming the tune of your song about the mighty warrior and his beloved back home.
Well, i saw a post on tiktok talking about how rayne ames is a trash brother so i wanted to talk about rayne's trauma and how it affected his character, since his parents died really early, and his family treating him and finn like trash he had to take responsibility to look after him, but still he kinda felt that he's not a good brother because he didn't give finn comfort in early years and he saw him crying wondering why is their situation this way without having answers for his questions. So he didn't want to be closer to him or involved in any pain or danger, he didn't want finn to see him suffering, because he does a lot and why he never tells anyone, because he felt that he was a bother, like he shouldn't be weak or ask for help so his brother could feel safe knowing that he's there. Because if rayne showed his weakness he's afraid that he would see the same little finn. Which caused finn to think that rayne is ashamed of him, rayne is bad so bad at showing affection? No he's not he's scared, he's scared that he'll get attached and end up losing his people, his scared that he won't be good enough, strong enough to protect them, so he pushes himself to his limits and pushes people away so they don't get hurt, especially finn. But when finn confronted him about his feelings he actually realized that finn got it the wrong way and he's trying to show affection and be a better brother for finn. ( He loves him so much ).So i never get how people can hate on him, i hope they understand more of his character and my boy is precious and should get the love he deserves!
→ CONTENTS rayne and you have been best friend for as long as you can remember. so when you suddenly start to feel different , you are hit with the sudden realization that maybe you do feel something for him.
→ NOTE first ever mini series i am writing so why not go with a trope i am a sucker for! I love me a good old childhood bestfriends to lovers with a hint of angst.
