#with blobs of color i walk forward

[bellamos]

chapter 16: transparency is up! youll be fine

content warnings:

- violence

- guns

- shooting

- blood

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[gf2bellamy]

Hear me out…reader on Spencer’s glasses and he’s struck by how pretty she looks. Or, reader puts her glasses on at work after her contacts dry out, and the team tease her for her glasses, but Spencer can’t help but find them adorable

pretty — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: fluff a/n: i went with the first idea !! such a cute one <3

Spencer Reid took off his glasses for two seconds.

Literally.

Just long enough to scrub the sleep from his eyes, to blink away the exhaustion. The team had been working nonstop, and even his brilliant mind was starting to fog over. He set the glasses down on the table, rubbing his face with both hands before letting out a long, slow breath.

And that was all the opportunity you needed.

You had been bored out of your mind, stuck in the same chair for what felt like eternity, flipping through the same reports, waiting for something to happen. So when Spencer’s glasses sat there, unattended, you acted on impulse.You snatched them up before he could even register they were gone.

Spencer was too busy yawning, his jaw cracking as he stretched his arms above his head, his eyelids heavy. For a second, you thought he might actually slump forward and pass out right there on the table.

Grinning to yourself, you unfolded the glasses and slipped them onto your face.

The world immediately blurred. Wow. You hadn’t realized just how bad his eyesight was.

Everything beyond your own hands was a hazy mess of shapes and colors. You blinked a few times, adjusting, but nope, still useless. How did he function like this?

You were still grinning when Morgan walked in.

His eyes landed on you immediately, and a slow, amused smirk spread across his face. “Well, look at you,” he said, voice loud enough to make Spencer jolt slightly in his seat. “Looking all nerdy.”

Spencer turned toward him, squinting, which was generous, because without his glasses, he could barely make out more than vague blobs of color. But then his gaze shifted to you, and his breath hitched.

There you were, his glasses perched on your nose, your lips curled in a playful smile.

“How do I look?” you asked, tilting your head.

Spencer’s mouth fell open. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because you looked nice. No, not just nice.

Pretty. Really pretty.

Something about seeing you in his glasses made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain.

Morgan dropped into a chair across from you, his smirk deepening as he watched Spencer’s dumbstruck expression. “Took the words right out of his mouth. Literally.”

You giggled, reaching up to take the glasses off, but Spencer’s hand twitched forward before he could stop himself.

“No, you, uh. You can leave them on. If you want.”

Your eyebrows lifted. Spencer swallowed, heat creeping up his neck. “You… uhm. You look very pretty.”

The words came out in a rushed mumble, barely audible, but you heard them. A soft warmth spread through your chest as you bit back a smile.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said, deliberately ignoring Morgan’s quiet chuckle from across the room. But then you carefully slid the glasses off anyway, holding them out to him. “I think you might need these more than I do.”

Spencer’s lips twitched into a subconscious pout before he could stop himself.

“You know,” you teased, “to see things.”

He turned even redder, suddenly mortified by his own words. Why would he tell you to keep them on? He obviously needed them to see. But before he could spiral further, you leaned forward in your chair. Spencer’s breath caught.

Your fingers brushed against his temples, gently sweeping his hair back as you carefully slid the glasses onto his face. You nudged them up the bridge of his nose with a light touch, your fingertips lingering near his skin just a second too long.

Spencer stared at you, wide-eyed, his pulse hammering in his throat.

“You look pretty too with them on,” you murmured, your voice softer now. Both of you were silent.

Spencer stared at you. Wide eyed. Mouth hanging wide open.

And then Morgan cleared his throat. “Is he still alive?”

[invincibledc]

۶ৎ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐗 𝐍𝐄𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ۶ৎ

♡！reader is gender neutral, that’s why there is female and male tags so this can be suited for any gender. There is no description of male or female anatomy. Reader is some random child Oliver found in a park and became friends over rocks.

literally being a demon who can’t come out into the sun sucks. Especially when they don’t know what they are. They’ve thrown rocks at before by some teenagers. They’ve gotten use to the pain, but what’s shocking is that one night when they can roam around, some purple boy that looks like their age had pants the same teenagers that threw rocks at them.

Their eyes sparkled seeing this, not even thinking. The pink eyed demon with hair that has flame-orange color at the tips. Humming loudly, the three kids jolted shock to see another kid out here. Oliver relaxed first as waved at them, they just stared at the purple hand before doing an eye closed smile and highfive him.

Oliver giggles, and that’s how you became his friend.

Sure he promised Debbie he wouldn’t sneak out no more… but his friend is out there in the cold! Who can’t even be in the sun. When Oliver seen their skin burned in the sun when he met them in day time. He panicked hearing their pained yelp, pulling them from the sun and into the shadows.

Never again is he letting you in the sun. But hey, he can always get you cloaks and steel his brother’s hoodies! They showed him that they can change their size. Oliver wouldn’t mind picking them up around in just a cloak looking like a blob as he flys around the city to show them things.

mark found out about the demon child when his mother informed him that his little brother snuck out again. Sighing as he flew around, he only hoped his little brother wasn’t causing much trouble.

There, he finally sees his brother.. but with some random kid with dyed hair and … pink eyes? Flying down, he had crossed arms staring at Oliver who looked shocked to see his brother. Oliver steps infront of his new friend.

“Mark!” He exclaimed, trying to keep his friend out of his sight. “What are you doing here?” Mark narrowed his eyes, “I should be asking you that. Oliver, you can’t just keep sneaking out. You’re worrying mom and myself.” He then leans to see the child staring at him. “Who’s that?” His stern demeanor disappeared to see those pink eyes stare at him gently. Oliver stepped aside, letting them walk forward.

“What’s your name kid?” Mark says, looking into their eyes before turning towards Oliver. “They can’t talk.” Oliver says, holding the mute’s hand. “So mute. Got it.. do they have a family?” Oliver shakes his head. “No family, can’t talk, can’t go out in Sun. But they’re cool! Watch this!” Oliver turned to you as mark raised a brow at the “can’t go out in the sun” part.

The child’s body started to shrink, looking like a toddler as Oliver picked them up and showed them off to mark whose jaw was dropped. That’s something… you don’t see unless it’s rae herself. “I..” “Can we keep them?!” Oliver said with excitement, the child gave off an eye closed smile. Their natural adorable face beaming at mark who stayed quiet.

“They’re not a pet Oliver, we can’t just keep a child.” “Not that like! Y/n isn’t a pet, they’re my friend.” Oliver glares at mark who held his hands up. “Okay then, what did you mean.” He places a hand into the purple boy’s shoulder. “Can we adopt them into our family… they can’t stay out in the sun. It… it hurts them!” His eyes held concern. “It could kill them. So, I thought that maybe mom and you can let them stay with us.. maybe forever?”

Mark looked at his half brother, and at the child demon who had puppy eyes that was definitely learnt from Oliver. Sighing and covering his face with one hand, he nodded. “We can try. But do you even know what they are?” Mark questions staring at you. Oliver groaned annoyed, “Does that even matter! Let’s go tell mom about them!” Oliver started to fly off with excitement. Mark could only sigh and follow his brother.

Welp, welcome to the family.

When meeting Debbie, it went kinda crazy with how mark finally persuaded her to let them stay. But Debbie soon felt calm with how you helped around. But when meeting the GDA, Cecil stared at the child weirdly. Pink eyes and natural orange flames tips hair? Sounds like trouble cause no one knows what they are.

Eve didn’t know how to express her feelings about the child. But she couldn’t help but coo at how affectionate they are. Always running to her when meeting the GDA and Guardians. Hugging around her waist, Eve smiled softly. They’re just a child that can’t handle their own problems.

If a ReAnimen were to try and beat onto mark, who the child immediately started being affectionate as well to. They’re getting their head kicked off. Rocking everyone in the room as they covered mark’s body. Imagine being saved by some demon. Crazy.

Mark gives them the reward of headpats, like keeping Oliver in check, helping him with patrols since they can clearly take care of themself.

If something were to ever try to harm Oliver, like you could try to be in disguise with Oliver when he would sneak out to help others.

Oliver and them always going out at night to specifically hang out. He even lets them meet those cool skating kids. He holds their hands when teaching them how to skate. Seeing their eyes sparkle up makes him feel proud to show them human things like this.

But oh boy, if it ever came to the point of where this small child or at least the same height as Oliver, were to smell blood. Then mark can understand why Cecil was suspicious of them. Seeing their body grow to look adultish or mature, body broad, pupils vertical. Mark didn’t expect to hold down a crazy blood thirsty demon. He talked the child he knew was inside them down, making them cry with apologies as their body shrank.

Next time, if the mission could possibly get bloody. He’s not letting them around the mission no more..

Them and Oliver playing footies, oh lord. Either they both are harming each other, or they simply can’t feel it. Mark has to stop that as the table was shaking.

Oliver always holding a small y/n around. Y/n doesn’t care, only for the fact that they like the body heat. Always sleeping. Oliver hates how y/n sleeps a lot, but at least it’s better than eating humans all day.

When they conquered the sun, oh boy Oliver was ecstatic! Immediately bringing them outside and playing tag, green light red light, maybe even catch! Oh boy he’s writing this all down as he kicks his feet happily. Finally, he can play games out but the day with them instead of night.

Don’t let the other marks see them. They never had a demon adopted sibling before, and they’re a man eating demon that can finally come out of the sun? Oh boy, this is a treat.

Oliver and y/n just always watching mark like Ducks. Like they follow mark like baby ducks and it’s so adorable to see baby vigilante/heroes following a known hero such as mark aka invincible.

Either less, Cecil doesn’t know if he can trust some man eating child demon that’s somehow “passive”. He’s seen how them can just grow and want to maul someone. They’re dangerous.

[is-not-a-bell]

Ghost blobs lead someone to Danny

(There is a part 2 now)

Batman froze at the floating blob, nearly the same color of lauzus waters and glowed even brighter. It seemed to notice him and ziped over to him at an alarming speed. Batman tensed ready to strike. But the thing just hovered in front of him and humming? It sounded desperate and worried, despite sound completely inhuman. His lack of response on seemed to increase the noise it made now make odd movements in one direction.

Before he could blink suddenly he was swarmed with the things. Some started pushing at his back and face. Others grabbed at his cape and tried tugging him forward. All of them humming the same desperate tune. Against his better judgement, a feeling in his chest told him to follow. "Alright" He whispered to the odd blobs. "Lead the way." Several bolted away as he chased behind them. A few stayed with him flying next to him or tucked into his cape.

He followed them over buildings until they reached a warehouse district. He was lead to an area designated for demolition. Finally the blobs float to the ground stoping at a warehouse with a door left ajar.

When Batman pushed the doors open he saw nothing, he stood still for a moment. He nearly thought it was a trap. Before the familiar gentle push urged him on. The ones leading him before flew behind a pile of trash and just barely he could see a faint glow behind it.

When Batman walked behind the trash pile, he froze. A dozen more blobs were there all crowding around a dimly glowing child. The white haired child was curled up and seemed to be bleeding lauzrus green. Batman rushed over and grabbed the child's wrist to feel for a pulse. His heart lurched when he found one, and it lurched again when the boy moved. He whimpered and weakly tried pulling away.

He sprang into action and pulled the boy to himself. He grabbed his bandages and gently uncurled the boy to see his wounds. He froze again at the Y-shaped cut on his chest and the countless other cuts left on him. "Please- please stop." Batman snapped back to when the boy spoke. "It's alright, you're safe now." He said softly, he wrapped the boy up as best he could. "What's your name?" He asked as he gently picked the boy up.

The boy was humming like the blobs he realized, it was far weaker like a buzzing in his hands. "Danny" The boy replied, Batman nearly didn't hear him. "I'll keep you safe Danny, I promise." At that Danny seemed to relax and melt into him. Batman called the Batmobile.

The blobs followed them outside a few seemed to fly away before coming back. Like they were patrolling the area. Others were comforting Danny, rubbing up against him or humming a different sound possibly to reassure him. "What are they?" Batman asks, hoping to get some information before the boy could pass out. "Blob ghosts." He muttered.

"Ghosts?"

"It's what I am, but I'm really bad at it" Danny mumbled the last part to himself but Batman caught it. A ghost entity? It would explain the lack of a pulse and even the wounds. A ghost haunted with his own autoposy scars. Before he could ask more the bat mobile stopped in front of them.

Batman hopped inside and gently place Danny in the passenger seat, buckling him in. The blob ghosts followed tucking into the back in a quick flurry. And like that Batman set off. He called Alfred. "Alfred, prepare the medbay. I have a severely injured unknown."

"Right away"

Batman barely managed to keep the boy awake all the way to the Batcave. Batman tries to ignore Alfred's shocked face as he sees Danny and the swarm of blob ghosts that follow them. "You didn't say they were this unknown."

"Danny says that they are 'blob ghosts' and claims he is a ghost as well. But that he is bad at it some how." Batman explained as they rushed to the medbay. When Batman set the boy down a white ring of light appeared around the boy it split and passed over him. They were left with a very human looking boy who was now bleeding red, mixing in with the green.

He and Alfred shared a look of shock. Before having to push the feeling away to help the boy.

[bradleysass]

ally - @rosekillermicrofic - wc: 864

The first thing Evan notices is the smell.

Acrylic paint and something fruity—possibly watermelon—mix in the air like chaos and pride had a baby. The second thing is that the flat is way too quiet for what it smells like. No music, no TV, just the hum of summer heat coming through the cracked kitchen window.

Evan toes off his shoes and squints down the hallway.

“Barty?”

“In here!” comes the shout, echoing from their bedroom. There's a weird, wet-slapping noise like someone wrestling with a paintbrush and absolutely no effort to hide whatever disaster is going on.

Evan pushes the door open with the same energy one uses to check behind a horror movie shower curtain. And then he freezes.

Barty is standing in the middle of their room shirtless, arms lifted slightly away from his sides like he’s trying not to smudge anything. His entire chest has been transformed into a bisexual pride flag—pink, purple, and blue stripes smeared across his pale skin with suspiciously good blending. On one leg is the trans flag. His face has a rainbow like war paint under each eye, and one hand is currently halfway through painting the lesbian flag across his thigh.

They make eye contact.

Barty, wide-eyed and unapologetic, mid-paint-stroke.

Evan just blinks.

“…What the fuck is happening here?”

Barty doesn’t miss a beat. “What does it look like? I’m showing my support. I am an ally.”

Evan raises one hand to his mouth and rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, pouting ever so slightly like he’s trying to decide whether to laugh or walk right back out and pretend this didn’t happen. “Yeah, yeah, sure. But you’re also gay.”

Barty narrows his eyes. “Not just gay. I'm layered. Like a—like a queer onion.”

“A bisexual onion?”

“If you will,” Barty says, as he dips his brush into another blob of paint on a plate that Evan really hopes is not one of their good ones. “I contain multitudes.”

“You contain glitter on my sheets.”

“I’m doing this for the community,” Barty replies, solemnly, like he’s about to launch into a TED Talk. “Pride is about visibility. I am being very visible right now. You're welcome.”

Evan crosses the room slowly, avoiding paint tubes like landmines. He stops just in front of Barty and folds his arms. “You painted the lesbian flag on your leg.”

“I support lesbians.”

“You hit on a lesbian last week.”

“She was hot,” Barty shrugs. “I told her I respected her. I also told her 'Evan at home had better hands than she could ever dream of', so it’s fine. Balanced.”

Evan chokes on a laugh. “Is that what you said?”

“I did,” Barty says proudly. “She gave me her eyeliner brand as a peace offering. Look.”

He turns and reveals a black tube of something wedged between a rainbow pride boa and a half-full bottle of rosé on the dresser.

Evan lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. “You know, I came home thinking we might have dinner. Watch something. Be normal.”

“This is normal,” Barty says, placing a dramatic hand over his paint-slicked heart. “You date a man who has a very expressive artistic side and an unstable relationship with impulse control. You knew what this was.”

Evan tilts his head. “You have the trans flag on your leg.”

“I do.”

“Do you want to talk about that?”

Barty goes quiet for a second, the paintbrush hovering in mid-air.

“…Maybe later.”

Evan nods, the mood shifting a little in the way it always does when Barty lets him past the sarcasm and glitter.

Then Barty smirks. “Right now I want you to admit that I look fabulous.”

Evan steps forward again, lifting his hand to trace the edge of the pink stripe on Barty’s chest. The paint is still a bit tacky, and Evan tries not to think too hard about how good the colors look on him. How Barty’s always had a knack for making chaos look like art.

“You look like someone let a gay raccoon loose in a craft store.”

Barty grins, proud. “Thank you.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Alright, fine,” Evan says, stepping even closer, hands now resting on Barty’s waist, smearing a bit of purple onto his thumbs. “You look like a queer fever dream, and somehow I still want to kiss you.”

Barty raises an eyebrow. “Do it.”

“You’re covered in paint.”

“So?”

Evan leans in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Barty’s mouth. When he pulls back, there’s a smear of blue on his lips.

“Fuck,” he mutters, rubbing at it. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I am lucky. I’m dating a beautiful, mildly judgmental man who lets me paint myself like a pride parade float.”

Evan sighs again, but there’s a softness to it now. “So. Do we wash this off or…?”

Barty shrugs. “We could go out like this.”

“I am not letting you into a restaurant with the lesbian flag on your thigh and nothing else.”

“Coward.”

“Degenerate.”

“Gay.”

Evan rolls his eyes, leans in, and kisses him again.

This time, he doesn't even try to wipe the paint away.

[miguelhugger2099]

Punk!Miguel who’s proud of his tattoos. At least most of them. He has some professionally done and others were stick and pokes from when him and Gabriel were younger.

Punk!Miguel who watches you with a smile when you touch up and down his arm. He hides the shivers down his spine when your perfectly manicured pink and green nails rake across the art decorated on him.

“What’s this one?” You poke at a terrible done smiley face, it was a little blobbed but barely noticeable with the much nicer ones done around it.

“One of the first tries my brother did on me when he was starting out.”

“And you kept it?” You tilt your head with a scrunch of your nose. Miguel laughs.

“Sentimental value.”

You scoff. “No way.”

“Yeah, way.” He takes your hands and pulls you closer, lugging you forward onto his lap where you belonged. Getting yourself comfortable you placed your hands on his chest.

“Are you just gonna have them on your arms?” You ask, tugging down his shirt for a peek at any new ones. Miguel smirks and stops your peeking by tsking and shaking his head—a knowing look on his face.

“Course not but tattoos cost money, babe.”

“You should get one of me.” You pout your lips, crossing your arms that makes you seem snobbish.

“What? Like get one of your face?” He laughs and leans back on his hands.

“No! Like—I dunno! Something sentimental about…me?” You look away, feeling the prickling embarrassment crawling up your neck. “Never mind!”

“Oh, so you want to be on my body, huh?” He teases, taking your hand and sliding it under his tank top to feel his warm stomach, faint dips of abs.

“You know what I mean!” You whine, feeling frozen with him holding your hand in place. He can’t help but find you adorable. Letting go of your hand to come around your waist as he leans up again, one hand coming down to cup your ass. He swallows your squeak with a kiss, unable to stop himself from biting into your sweetness.

Punk!Miguel who—even if he teased you about it—actually adored the idea of having a tattoo of you on him.

Punk!Miguel who thought day and night of what could represent you. Flowers he felt was done often, your name was cute but basic and anything else could very well be mistaken for something else. He wanted something that was obviously you.

Punk!Miguel who was rearranging his room again, bustling through various boxes for some spring cleaning.

Punk!Miguel who found his box of memories from when you two first began dating. It had been filled with all your gifts and letters you’d given him—every last piece saved securely in the corner of his room.

He smiles as he opens the box up again. Some pieces of papers falling out and the little broken keychain you got to match with him until it snapped when he accidentally sat on it.

He sits at his desk, flipping through the pages and tiny plushies you’ve given him. His heart swelling at the swirls in your writing with blue ink—the bunny pen you always wrote with.

The smile on his face continues as he reads through your words of love for him—words that you often found too difficult to say. He slams his forehead on the desk, blush coating his cheeks and ears while he groans loudly.

Each letter you’d given him ended with a print of your kiss mark at the very bottom. Some of it was a matte red, others was a faint glitter stain, but most of it was a soft pinkish color. The kind that was glossy and gave you just enough color that it looked tinted and natural.

His finger grazes the mark, an idea popping in his head.

Punk!Miguel who goes to a tattoo shop he was very well acquainted with, with an artist he knew extra well.

He slams his arm on the counter where a man was behind it, sucking on a lollipop and doodling in his sketchbook. The guy raises an annoyed brow.

“Do you have any space open for a walk-in client?” Miguel asks with a smirk.

“I don’t have space for annoying ones.” He sighs and puts his drawing pad away.

“I have money this time, Gabri. Plus, family discount.”

Punk!Miguel who is both afraid and excited to show you what he’s done to himself. He feels his heart hammering while he preps himself to show you. He’d done the aftercare as precisely as possible, taking extra care of it because this was no ordinary tattoo.

Punk!Miguel that lets you take off his shirt when he tells you he’s gotten a tattoo of you.

Punk!Miguel who smiles with amusement when you gasp and hit his arm that you were joking before! That tattooing is a permanent thing! He tells you that he knows.

His heart stills when you eyes land on his chest. On his left side, where his heart would be was your kiss mark. Just like the ones you left on the letters you used to give him.

You touch your lips subconsciously, your other set of fingers hovering over his lifted skin. You look up for permission and he nods, brining himself closer.

You marvel at the piece of work that replicated your lips. “Oh, Miguel…” You sigh, blinking back tears.

“Are you getting emotional?”

“No!”

He brings you to his chest in a tight hug, your hand still resting beside your kiss mark now permanently etched on his person—a permanent reminder that he is yours and that he loves you.

[pricklenettle]

Parent's Ghost

This is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I wrote it based on the art by the talented @jackalspine

The little ectoblobs are made of the emotional residue of the creatures around them like dust bunnies. The Fenton house is full of both ectoplasm and emotional residue. So what happens after Danny is injured by his parents?

WC: 4,795

AO3 link

_______

Danny walked along the power lines. Not on the ground, that was for people who liked getting doused with rain water everytime a car came by. It was way cooler strolling along, way above the headlights cutting blindly through the splintery drizzle that made this evening’s twilight so dim. Danny adroitly floated around a buzzing insulator that snapped testilly at every rain drop. He continued his stroll, placing his feet just a finger’s breadth above the black wire.

He supposed he should be grateful for the drizzle, and the quiet evening that was proof of the apparent absence of ghosts to hunt. But really, he was bored. Bored, and his brain was starting to prickle with dread as calculus equations and handwritten paragraphs echoed sinisterly in the back of his mind. The image of the homework he’d left piled in his room loomed closer over the horizon. On top was the English paper Lancer had assigned him. 

He’d written two sentences for the paper’s intro before flying out his window to patrol. So far it was disappointing him. He’d found a wisp of a ghost bear rooting around in the Nasty Burger dumpster and an old granny who wasn’t bothering anybody except the park’s population of stray cats. It was getting uncomfortably more obvious that tonight his biggest responsibility was going to be his homework. 

Danny wrinkled his face. Figures, the one night he wanted a distraction, Amity decided it was time for peaceful quiet. 

Even though he knew he should be heading home he just kept walking along the wire. He folded his arms behind his head and kept an eye upward, hoping the clouds would break up. 

It was just on the edge of too cold. The drops that hit his shoulders and head were like needling icy fingers, prodding him to go home and take cover inside six warm walls. Leave the world to the rain to whom it belonged. He stuck his tongue out at the sky and pulled his phone out of his belt pouch. 

The cracked screen pulsed unhappily at him with aberrant colors. He tilted it forward, trying to shield it from the beads of water that rolled off it with bent light. There were no new messages from Sam, but Tucker was asking about that English assignment. Danny groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew what he should be doing, the universe knew what he should be doing, he’d cut off his toes and feed it to the resident ghost cats before he wrote one more word tonight. He locked his ankles together, drifting a little higher over the powerline while he texted back. 

“Hey, Ghost scum!” was his only warning before something exploded off to his left. The acid green light of ecto-based ammunition froze the rain in the air in a single flash. It competed and instantly won against the dim sky, lighting up the undersides of tree limbs and throwing everything into a sharp lime light. 

Danny automatically threw his hands over his face, then flew up, searching the ground through the spots in his vision for the interrupters. 

“Damn it, Mads, I missed him again,” came the only slightly quieter voice. Danny’s grin spread sharply when he spotted his mom and dad crouched behind some bushes. 

He floated tauntingly lower. “Hey, I was walking there. How’d you like it if I threw missiles at you when you were on an evening stroll?”

“I’d say you were showing off your true nature, ghost,” Jack cried, pointing a finger at him. The shiny black rubber of his gloves reflected the yellow globe of the streetlight that hummed, lonely in the rain. The single illumination of the deserted road. “An evil, mindless blob of ectoplasmic residue that’s grown too comfortable in the mortal plane.”

Danny hovered in place, daring on whatever happened next. “At least I’d be able to hit you, in that way I am pretty good.”

Maddy was scrambling to quickly reload the gun. It looked like pretty heavy artillery. It might be strong enough to blow him to pieces if the spots still dancing in his vision were anything to believe. Of course, it would have to hit him first. Lucky for him, it looked like it was going to take Maddy a while, and Danny had plenty of time to antagonize his parents. He floated lower, leaning back in the air and crossing his legs. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be than out in the rain following an innocent ghost around?”

“No such thing,” Maddy hissed, still fighting over the guts of the big gun. 

“Menace to society you mean,” Jack shouted up.

Danny stuck his tongue out at them and raised his arms with limp wrists like the classic ghost. “Boo.”

“You won’t be saying boo when my wife reloads and splatters your ectoplasm– er,”

Maddy threw down her new rocket launcher in disgust. 

“No good, Mad’s?”

Danny looked on in utter delight as Maddie began riffling through the duffle bag at their feet. “I can’t get the damn thing to work with this rain.”

“My bad, Honey. In mark two, I’ll prioritize simplification and ease of use.”

“You can’t have everything in one gun, dear, your design is wonderful just as it is. Only a little tweaking I think.” Danny gagged overtop of them before they could get really sappy. They whipped back around, on guard again. Maddy stood up from the duffle bag this time with the net gun in her hands. She braced herself to fire. 

Danny sighed and shook his head. “You folks need to figure out when it’s time to pack up and save it for another day.” He accumulated a ball of ectoplasm between his fingers and lobbed it at Maddie’s feet. She dived to the side and came up on her knees. They locked eyes and she pulled the trigger. The net burst out with a puff of gunpowder. 

Danny flew to the side, but a corner of the net collided with his leg. The cords snapped around his boot, quickly tangling when he tried to shake it off. He grumbled, annoyed. But still, no problem. The cord was treated to be anti ghost so he couldn’t phase out, but he had a lot of energy humming in his chest that had gone unused all day long. He smiled grimly. So, they wanted to catch a ghost? This was going to be fun. He twisted around and propelled himself up above the treeline. Maddy yelped beneath him. He glanced back to see her feet were dragging in the ground and she was barely holding onto the gun over her head. He put on another burst of speed and her toes lifted off the ground. 

Jack leaped to grab it from her. He braced his feet and grunted with the strain of holding Danny earthward. She let him have it and ran back for the duffel bag. Danny wasn’t quite strong enough to lift Jack off his feet, not without phasing the big man partly out of the physical world. Danny soon found himself fighting just to stay in the air. 

Jack clung onto the rope doggedly. They both seemed pretty determined today to reel him in. No matter how he flew Jack was stubbornly holding on. As though he actually believed he and the phase-proof line could reassert the laws of gravity that Danny had gotten so used to ignoring. 

He was starting to feel a little too much like a toy kite for his liking. Careful to keep the line taut, he bent over his leg to tug at the tangled cords of the net. He was just starting to make progress, a pile of freed loops dropping to hang form his boot, when he heard a pop from below. An instant later a bolt screamed through his arm. He recoiled, grabbing his arm tight. 

The ectoplasm of his arm had been sheered away and hollowed out like a stick of butter in a microwave. Beads of ectoplasm rolled over the creases of his white gloves. 

Looked like Maddy had finally got the gun to work again.

“Hey,” he yelled down. “You missed my vital organs. For all the time you spend hunting me, I’d expect you’d at least be good at it!” He aimed down along the perfectly straight line drawn between him and his dad. As perfect as a math equation, from point a to point b. He didn’t even have to aim. 

Jack dropped backward, electric green smoldering in his orange jumpsuit. Danny buoyed up into the air, cord and gun and all. He would have gotten away then, and he was already thinking about what in hell he was going to write for his damned English paper. 

Maddy dropped the gun and leaped over Jack. She jumped for the cord before it could get away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, jerking Danny back down. She’d pulled something out of her jumpsuit. Danny saw the flash of the Fenton Ghost Taser™ an instant before she pressed it against the taut cord. 

Danny cried out. His body instantly seized up, all his muscles vibrating, making his teeth chatter together. The searing pain that traced the path of the electricity came as a secondary thunder clap. He dropped out of the air. 

He hit the first branches like a second shock. Thousands of tiny twigs crackled under his descent. As he traveled lower he hit branches that bent, then broke. He caught a glimpse of the ground. All scattered with brown, lance shaped leaves. Then he hit.

***

“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself up. He batted bits of dead leaves out of his hair and suit, making sure he was all still there. He felt like his parents had hit him with the earth like a wrecking ball. He looked up, staggering a little with the tilt in perspective, up through the hole he’d smashed through the perfectly nice canopy the tree had been working on for who knew how long. Maybe he’d been the wrecking ball. 

He had to sit down a moment, his entire body felt burned and achy from the taser. He fished one spikey piece of branch out of the side of his boot. He’d taken bigger hits and farther falls, but when he couldn’t catch himself the stupid part of him still expected to die everytime. He looked up again, ignoring the ringing in his head. He’d fallen into a damn thick patch of alders and bushes— honestly amazing he’d found any flat hard ground to hit at all.

The phase-proof cord— one end still tangled around his leg, wandered off into the underbrush. He could hear his parents thrashing around in the distance. 

Danny quickly shook off his distraction and jammed his fingers into the knotted mess around his leg. He worked and pulled at the strands, brow furrowed into determined concentration. If he turned human he could slip out in an instant, but he didn’t want to risk one of his parents spotting it through the bushes. He kept glancing up to check how close they’d gotten before returning to the net. Of all the things, why did he not keep a knife on him? His parents had made a ghost thermos and laser lipstick. Why not a Fenton Knife™?

Their crashing was getting closer. He stubbornly kept his head down, focused on his scrambling fingers and ignoring the loud sounds of Jack and Maddy following the anti-ghost cord right to him. He just needed to figure out where it had gotten tangled. A careless movement reminded him of the hole seared into his arm. Oh, ow. He’d almost forgotten about that. 

There, he’d found an edge. He freed it from a few misplaced cords, then twisted it, wrapped it back, passed it under his leg, and finally he could pull his leg free. He kicked the limp coil of net away and climbed to his feet. He could see patches of orange jumpsuit through the trees now. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the temper he could feel rearing up. They didn’t know— no. They didn’t care. He’d turned into a ghost under their noses, in their own workshop, and they’d never even noticed. 

He tested his arm with a hand. He still could barely feel it but he could already tell it was going to hurt when he got home and slipped back into his human skin. He winced when his fingers came away green. 

Danny stepped up into the air, flickering out of the visible spectrum.

***

The drizzle was still hesitant to turn into an actual rain when Danny floated outside his home. The neon sign buzzed faintly, briefly illuminating the drops that fell from the sky green, as though it was raining ectoplasm. 

Carefully, Danny pulled open his window and slipped inside. He let go of his invisibility and dropped heavily to the floor. A blanket he’d kicked off the bed bunched uncomfortably under his back and elbow, and his boot was chewing up the pages of a book he’d left open in the middle of the room, but right now he didn’t care. 

He stared up at his ceiling, at the sickly plastic of his glow-in-the-dark stars. It wasn’t dark enough yet for them to light up. The drizzle patted softly against the roof, like the Fenton building was a strange and unusual cat it didn’t quite know how to stroke. His arm ached dreadfully but he ignored it. A glancing thought reminded him of the English paper he’d sworn he’d finish tonight. He turned over, squeezing his fingers into his torn up arm. He scowled into the dark shadows that clung to the floor of his room. He’d do it tomorrow.

***

He came out of a dull fog with something nudging his leg. He hissed and kicked at it, then groaned. He was so sore from the electricity that had pulsed  through ever fiber of muscle he owned. He cracked an eye open. It was dark. Rain shadows mottled the dim light from the neon sign outside that the window cast onto the floor beside him. The constant buzz of rain on the roof made him realize he was still cold and damp. He curled tighter into himself, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Well, it had decided to rain after all.

Another nudge against his leg made him open his eyes in annoyance. It was a tiny blob ghost, apparently small enough to get past his parents' sensors and definitely too small to cause real trouble. It sat in a ball by his foot, gazing him down with softly glowing red eyes. 

“Shoo,” he said crossly. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Instead of going away, it drifted up closer to his face. It was certainly brazen in the face of a much stronger ghost. Danny drew himself up into a half crouch, unwilling to let even this mindless blob catch him down and out. “You should get going, you don’t want my parents to see you hanging around.” 

Instead of listening to him, the blob rolled up to his hand. The surface of its ectoplasm rippled and then it plopped up a wet wad of bandages. 

“Eeew, that’s gross.” But it did make Danny think to look at his injured arm. He grimaced. That gun was seriously concentrated. His arm was still hollowed out and dripping with green slime. He’d been slowly leaking as he slept and it had left a dark, wet spot on his twisted blanket that gleamed dully in the low light. “Shoot.”

The small blob made a tiny murmuring chirp. He looked back down at it and it nudged his hand. He’d never met a blob ghost so friendly. The ones he occasionally spotted in the house seemed peaceable enough, but he never let them get close. They were like fruit flies, they just appeared where their sustenance was. Normally they coalesced after fights, drawn to the spilled ectoplasm like ramora to sharks. Or maybe they were created by it. Who knows. They were skittish, unfriendly, and prone to hurting pets. He didn’t really know how to react to this one trying to cuddle up to him.

When its insistent bumps got no reaction, the blob instead snagged his sleeve. It bobbed up in the air, tugging him to stand up. 

Suddenly there was another blob. It floated out from under his bed and tugged on his pant leg, seemingly for the same purpose. 

Bemused, Danny stood. The room tilted. For a moment he couldn’t move except to sway on his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin when a third blob ghost appeared over his shoulder. It settled as solidly as a blob could on its perch and hummed and chirped in his ear. Its firm press reminded him of when his dad would clap him on the shoulder, his big warm hand a steadying weight. 

The blob ghosts were still tugging on his clothes. So, Danny obeyed. He tottered tiredly toward his bed. He made the bed every day, but the blob ghosts must have been rifling through his room before they woke him up because all the blankets were half off. 

Irritated, he fell into bed. He sighed as his pillow recieved his head with a puff. His ssense of gravity became even looser as the pillow cradled his skull. He might have been floating as unmoored as he felt. How he’d missed it. Did it seem poofier today or was he just really happy to be in bed?

He shivered at the cold sheets and shifted to curl into a ball, but the blob ghost was still holding onto his sleeve. He lifted his head to show a threatening row of teeth, but he didn’t have the energy for much else. He flared the energy of his core. It had never failed to to send blobs darting away like frightened mice. These ones didn’t.

The big one that had sat on his shoulder floated through the air, a long trail of white bandage fluttering beneath it like a tail. Danny was starting to be amused. At least this bandage wasn’t already sopping with ectoplasm. 

The big blob hovered over the bed, edging the bandage closer to his wound. He didn’t know how to tell these things that you were supposed to disinfect stuff first. Whatever, at least it would stop him from soaking the mattress. He could deal with things properly tomorrow. In the morning when he felt less like a dead boy barely filling in his human skin. Yeah, whenever that happened. 

***

He’d figured out how to scare them off the night he’d been following the trail of a giant, mutant ghost snake. He’d been chasing it for most of the night and the snake had left it’s mark on him and a large chunk of Amity Park. He’d been pretty sure it was dead but he didn’t want that one coming back to life to bite him in the ass. Again. 

He’d found it in an old alleyway, its coils half hidden by mounds of trash. The huge snake had stopped moving. It was losing clarity fast and its scales were melting into the broken asphalt. The ambient ectoplasm its blood had added to the air made a glowing haze over the alley. It was also swarming with blobs. Like busy ants they flocked from one wound to the next, soaking it in like sugar water. 

Danny had taken a step back, just like anyone who turned over a log and found it crawling with maggots. Danny blinked at them, squinting with one eye crusted half shut from the fight and the other rubbery with exhaustion. The way the blobs swarmed over the ghost’s corpse before it had even bled away out of their physical world made shivers prickle all over his shoulders. Slowly he backed away. He’d confirmed the snake wouldn’t be a threat anymore, his job was done. 

He’d intended to leave the scene and creep away to finally go home, when his leg gave out and he slipped on the pavement. all the milling pairs of red eyes snapped to him. They hissed like a multi-tongued hoard of snakes. Automatically, Danny flared his core. He’d gritted his teeth, staring them down, thinking very hard about how much bigger and fiercer he was, how easy to squish them and fight them off his prey. The hand in front of him gained an unnatural edge, like a glowing afterimage. All the ghosts immediately fled, abandoning their immense feast.

After that he’d never had much trouble with the smaller ghosts. It didn’t make sense that these ones weren’t bothered about it. 

Danny took the bandage from the bigger blob and pinched it to his arm, intending to wind it around with his teeth. Instead, the three blob ghosts seized it from him, letting him hold it in place while they passed it back and forth around his arm. Danny didn’t have to do anything before he was looking at a tidily wrapped bandage. He wasn’t even seeping through them yet. 

“Thank you.” Uneasily he settled back onto his pillow, warily watching the blobs flit around like alien lights through half closed eyes.

The blob ghosts drifted like flotsam, their cool glow sliding over his freezing sheets to the glistening wood of his bedpost, then back again to bead on the dark wetness he’d spread on the floor and under his dry eyelids. His sight blurred and he realized again how tired he was, but now he’d been roused twice. He couldn’t relax with the huge, cold night huddling in the space of his bedroom. Especially not with the strange ghosts, mindless and helpful though they seemed to be.

The blobs didn’t seem to realize. They briefly floated down out of sight then reappeared holding up a blanket between them. As gently and softly as could be, they drew it over him. Two of them churred soothingly and patted the blanket around him as though they were trying to tuck him in. Danny wanted to laugh but instead he found himself sinking into his pillow, eyes blinking shut. After all, why shoo them off, he could defend himself from a couple of blobs. He yawned broadly. The third blob ghost drifted down to alight on his forehead, unexpectedly similar to the softness of a cool hand against a fever. Danny sighed and let it stay there. He already felt warmth spreading over him from the blankets, he was afraid to move or it would go away. 

The other blob ghosts settled onto his blanket around his legs. Their light dimmed as though they were going to sleep. He finally relaxed enough for the transformation to slip over his head and down his legs. He shivered furiously for a moment, like the first steps out of a cold pool where he’d acclimated to a chill sort-of-comfort and then into biting wind. Before long real warmth stole over him. 

The blob resting on his forehead began to hum. Even through his sleep drenched brain he recognised it. It was a silly song that his parents had liked and turned into a lullaby, just like every parent does. Whenever this one came onto the radio Danny was jolted back to when he was a kid and soothed into a warm bed on a close and sleepy evening. When he was a kid he’d practically vibrated with too much energy. When he couldn’t sleep Maddie would hold him wrapped in a blanket in her lap, singing that song and rocking back and forth, sometimes flubbing and making up her own words.

They needed the lullaby a lot when he was a kid. Some nights it was the only way to keep him in bed. It was a song for a too long road trip when he’d sent the entire car into seismic shifts from his carseat while the windshield wipers worked madly and Jazz was yelling at him for kicking her seat. The song was for a hospital visit where the cold room and unfamiliar walls was more disturbing than the pain in his broken arm. In the past it had never failed to lull him to sleep.

Somehow he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He didn’t miss it, it was just one of those things you naturally left behind as time passed. He wasn’t a baby anymore and Maddie didn’t need to sing it to get him to shut up for five seconds. He didn’t even remember the funny words she’d made up for it. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to mumble them and somehow dredge them up from deep in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten it. He wondered where this blob had picked it up.

All the wondering he could do ran away from him quickly. His consciousness spun out like a ball of yarn leading him to sleep. The tune dropped him back into those years of falling asleep with his mom’s cheek next to his and finally his brain stopped thinking and let him drift off into deep dreamless sleep.

***

Jack and Maddie came home in the stillness of the hour between night and morning. It had stopped raining but they were drenched and stuck all over with orange pineneedles and other forest detritus. They were tired and trudged heavily through the door, not wanting to wake anyone up. There were twigs and leaves in Jack’s hair and a spray of thorns caught in the weave of Maddie’s suit. She smiled working it free but there was no real mirth behind it. Just tiredness.

They’d found no ghost in their net. But they’d been so sure a ghost couldn’t escape it, and a hit from Maddie’s new gun, on top of a shock from the Fenton Taser™ without being seriously damaged and power drained. So they’d combed the area again. They’d found not a sign of the ghost. They supposed that they’d never know until the next dogfight if that one had survived or had dissolved into whatever aether the scraps of human consciousness were bound for. 

They dumped their tangled and scraped up gear in a pile. Neither of them said anything. Without a word they left it there and took the stairs. Jack looked at the back of his wife’s neck. He might not be good at reading people but he’d known her long enough. All these ghosts were fascinating, they’d never had more work. But the rest of Amity didn’t exactly agree with their glee. Some nights the sheer amount of ghostly activity was overwhelming. And they were strong enough to be actually capable of real property damage! Who knew what else. The sooner they could stuff these spooks back where they came from the better. But this wasn’t what was bothering Maddy. Jack knew the problem that was puzzling her now was Danny. It was frustrating. Life would be so much easier if people could just say what they were thinking.

If only he could figure out the problem. 

Again, without words, they stopped in front of Danny’s door. Dread was boiling in Maddie’s stomach, there’d been so many nights she’d known he’d snuck out. Some nights he just never came home. Jack’s large arm reached past her to press against the door. He eased it open with both hands, For once he payed special attention to not bump anything thoughtlessly. Danny’s room was dark, the only light inside came from the warm stripes that escaped from the hallway lamp around their legs and the dim stick on stars that littered the ceiling. It was messy, as usual. Leaves of homework were layered over his desk and books lay open all over the floor. Drifts of clothes made sedimentary layers in the corners of the room. Jack couldn’t help his well of fondness at the sight. Danny was a still form on the bed. Silent asleep, as he should be. 

Jack sniffed, was the ectoplasm smell stronger here? He glanced around briefly; bed, desk, floor— then shrugged. It was everywhere in the house. It was their fault really, always mixing work and family life.  

Jack looked down and realized neither of them had pushed one toe over the carpet line into his room. It was just as good as a wall. 

Maddie’s mouth worked as though she was chewing over a mouthful of words that needed to be said, no matter how silently. She finally whispered. “Good night, Danny.”

And then they left as carefully as they had come. 

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Write a fic about where you are attending kindergarten and then there's a rat fighting off foot ninjas

and then TMNT x reader

Ninjas In Kindergarten (Angst?/Crack?/Fluff?)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: In honor of the second rat we found in the toilet today, along with the signs of rats in the other parts of the kindergarten, daycare and staff room, I bring you this. I’ve changed it from Foot ninjas to a mouser, and brought the turtles in just for the fun of it. And oh yeah, they brought the rat hound in again. IT FOUND ANOTHER RAT WHILE WE WERE THERE. What an internship. It isn’t boring I tell ya.

Btw, me and the kids are now joking that it's Master Splinter’s unmutated family that wishes to recruit ninjas on their own. These little ninjas now do a double check before using the toilet.

Warning: Kids in danger, crying children, and spelling like always.

It was a surprisingly calm day for a Monday in a kindergarten. All handovers of the kids from their parents had gone smoothly, with the kids happily playing together on the mats, the pillow room or the play kitchen. Even the girl that tended to cry whenever her mother dropped her off was in a somewhat good mood, drawing with her two best friends at one of the tables.

You sat by the play kitchen area, plastic food all around you as the boys and girls around you handed you food, acting as if you were the only guest in an overstaffed restaurant. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of the adults cutting up fruit, while another one brought more pencils to the drawing table, all while the third one was changing diapers on the three youngest kids.

It was nice to finally have a calm day at your internship. The past few weeks had been somewhat chaotic. Not so chaotic that you couldn’t keep afloat, but enough to make you very tired whenever you finally got home. But damn it, these sweet kids made the whole ordeal worth it, only making you excited for the day you would have your own.

You and your boyfriend had started to talk about children. Nothing was set in stone yet, but the topic had been up several times. Well, if it was possible that was. With your boyfriend’s… less than human nature, none of you were sure that a child would even be possible. But nonetheless you dreamed, finding your heart jump whenever one of the kids accidentally called you mom.

“(Y/N)!”, one of the girls at the table called out, running to you with the drawing in her hands. Her 4 year old face, bright eyes and happy smile shined proudly as she held up her drawing for you. It was a blob of colors with no form of meaning, but nonetheless she was happy. “I made it for my mom!”

“Woooow!”, you smiled, leaning forward to show interest in the paper and the many doodles on it. “Did you really make that all by yourself?”

“Yes!”, she said with a little happy jump. “All by myself!”

“I think your mother is going to like it a lot”, you said, smiling as another kid handed you yet another piece of plastic food, adding it to the growing pile in your lap. “I think you should put it in your drawer. Then mommy will know where it is”.

“Okay!”, she smiled, running to her drawer with a skip in her steps.

With the paper in one hand, she opened her drawer, only to jump back with a scream, causing you and the other adult to jump, all turning your attention her way, all the kids doing the same in quiet shock. In her drawer was a mechanine, the size of a mouth, with one bright red lamp where its eyes should be, walking around on two feet. You jumped at the sight, knowing exactly what it was. You had seen such a thing several times with your boyfriend and his brothers, during your run ins with one certain scientist.

You quickly ran to the girl and pulled her back, just before the mouser jumped out of the drawer, snapping out at you. All the kids let out a scream, running for the farest corner in order to get away from the mouser.

In one swift move, you pressed the number that the turtles had given you onto the keyboard, sending an alarm signal to the ninjas, before giving the mouser a hard kick as it tried to get near you and the poor crying girl.

“Up on the tables!”, you yelled over your shoulder to the three other adults, quickly helping the girl up on the nearest table, before helping the next kid. “Keep the mouser away from the kids!”

And so you did, getting all the kids up on the tables, ignoring the questioning looks from the other pedagogues, as they wondered how you knew what that thing was.

You got the last kid up on the table, kicking the mouser back once more, before quickly jumping up on the table to the kids, before it could bite at your ankles. The kids on the table hug you tightly, crying as the mouser started to bite at the wooden legs of the table, trying to get it to fall.

Suddenly the door swung up, revealing your mutant turtle boyfriend in the front and his brothers right behind him. The moment he spotted the mouser at the feet of your table, he jumped into action, smashing it into pieces with his weapons, causing the room to fall quiet. Thankfully the kids weren't crying at the moment, but you could tell by the looks on their faces that the sight of four mutant ninja turtles would soon cause another round of crying.

“So”, you said, trying to defuse the building intensity in the room. “Kids, this is my boyfriend. You know, the one that was a little different with strong muscles? That is him”.

Your boyfriend waved at the kids with a somewhat awkward smile. When he and his brothers gave you that emergency number, he had never thought he would have to come and save you, three pedagogues and a bunch of kids from a rogue mouser.

To his surprise, one of the kids poked at him, staring at him with their big eyes and runny nose, not fearing his big frame as he looked at them.

“Are you green because you ate broccoli?”

“Yes”, your boyfriend answered with a smile, before knocking on his shell. “And I got this from drinking coconut milk”.

“Oh boy”, was the only thing you could mutter, before the questions came flying, all of the kids wanting to learn about your strange boyfriend and his brothers.

It didn’t take long before the kids started playing with your boyfriend and the other turtles. With Mikey they took turns to jump on the smashed mouser, laughing loudly at the sounds it made. Donnie drew with girls, taking a look at the drawing the girl from before had made. Raph played a throwing game, throwing the kids into a pile of pillows one by one, while Leo was making a tower of building blocks with the quiet kids, their eyes growing wider the taller the tower got.

It was safe to say that you would have to bring your boyfriend and his family to your internship a little more often, especially when the kids started screaming and asking you to bring them once again. There was nothing you could do. The kids had turned into big fans of the ninja turtles. And it was adorable.

[raynerberg]

Agate birds

A deep, barely perceptible sigh drifted like a tiny ghost through the dark, lightless corridor of a place that once sparkled with every hue of life. Accompanying this ghostly breath was a persistent rhythm - heavy, confident footsteps echoing along the shabby, colorless concrete walls, where jagged, rusted shards of frame and partition jutted out like grotesque fangs. Walking forward with measured steps, the man kept his gaze fixed on a small white dot at the far end of the passage. With each step, it grew larger, spreading like a white blob on a pitch-black canvas touched by a soft, damp brush. There it was - an archway covered by construction plastic marked with dried, mysterious splatters. The absence of a door hinted at years of abandonment. Although light filtered through the makeshift curtain, it offered no clear view of what lay ahead. All that remained was to lift the veil and step forward.

— Aw, come on! Why?! You said it was here. Liars! — a sharp, irritated voice sliced through the gloom, freezing a clawed hand encased in black carbon fiber mere millimeters from the plastic. The man was sure that he was alone here. His artificially honed animal instincts had suggested as much - or perhaps their silence merely implied that the voice’s owner was not an enemy. But then, who was it?

After only a brief hesitation, the unexpected visitor tore down the curtain with a grating rip, sending flakes of grimy gray paint scattering across the floor. Two swift steps later, he stood fully revealed in the doorway’s gaping maw. On the dusty concrete floor, covered with a fine layer of lime powder, sat a delicate figure wrapped in a coat the color of deep midnight. It was a girl. She sat sideways, her head raised, fixing a vivid emerald gaze on the newcomer. Her eyes held a mixture of mild concern and genuine curiosity, but no fear.

— Oh, hello! We didn’t know there was anyone else here. — the girl offered a modest yet sincere smile. Her fluffy canary-yellow braids framed a round face dusted with freckles that sparkled like tiny copper crystals under the open rays of the sun. — What’s your name? — she asked, studying the stranger intently.

— Grayson, — came the hoarse reply. Only then did he allow himself a quick glance around the spacious hall: the same stark white walls, massive columns stretching upward to support a ceiling of concrete and rebar, a floor resembling miniature sand dunes, stray sheets of translucent plastic scattered about, and in the distant corner, a solitary industrial ladder with wide treads. His toxic-amber gaze returned to the girl.

— And yours? Who were you talking to? — now it was his turn to ask questions. Noticing that the girl showed no intention of rising from the dusty floor, Grayson crouched beside her, his black nanocarbon armor emitting a faint vibrating hum as it mirrored his movements. Up close, he could see her pearl-like jewelry - round earrings, a necklace, and a sun-shaped hair clip.

— Claire. And I’m here with my friends. — the girl’s lively gaze shifted in the opposite direction as she cheerfully waved.

Grayson followed her line of sight and snorted. Two large blue pigeons strutted across the floor, cooing softly and contentedly to each other. Was she talking to them? Well, why not? Some people befriend dogs, others cats, and bird lovers - birds. Whether tame or wild, whether capable of talk or not, that was secondary. People who truly love animals always stand apart, understanding creatures better than most humans ever could. Grayson had heard as much. He continued listening in silence.

— They told me it was here. I followed them, and they led me here, but I couldn’t find it. I’ve been here for a long time and got so tired I had to sit down. My coat and dress - ugh, so dirty! — Claire concluded indignantly.

— Well, at least it’s warm and dry here. You can sit without worrying about catching cold, — a shadow of a condescending smile flickered in Grayson’s eyes. The scars on his face made it impossible to fully express the emotion. Perhaps that was for the best. He could always ruin relationships later with a misplaced smile or careless word.

— But what were you looking for?

— A bracelet. Another friend of mine gave it to me. He’s a good guy. It was a birthday gift - tiny beads and two birds made of white agate. He said, “It’ll bring you luck,” but I didn’t even notice when I lost it. Even if it’s here, how did it end up in this place? I don’t understand anything, — she sighed mournfully.

— Wait a minute. A white bracelet with birds, you said? — Grayson had patiently listened to the little story, but the mention of the bracelet stirred him into movement. Pressing an invisible button near his elbow, the man opened a compartment for storing small items. The bracelet in question fell onto his wide Kevlar-covered palm. In the daylight, the agate shimmered with a kaleidoscope of colors. Yes, this was it - white beads on a leather cord with two tiny minimalist birds. He examined the trinket for two seconds before handing it to its rightful owner.

— I agree, sometimes I don’t understand things either. But maybe some events and objects don’t want to be fully understood or studied. Otherwise, they lose their special properties. I found this one floor up. It was just lying on the floor. That’s all I know.

Claire took the bracelet in silent surprise, turning it over in her hands. Gently smiling and stroking the smooth agate surface, she said:

— Yes, I’ve heard that. Luck and happiness love silence. Thank you! — Claire stopped gazing at the bracelet and winked playfully at her new acquaintance. It was clear what she meant, but that conversation could wait for another time.

— Well, since this unexpected search is over, we can leave. I’ve finished inspecting the place, and there’s nothing more to do here, so... — Grayson rose and extended a hand to Claire. The girl accepted his offer without hesitation, clearly pleased. Dusting off her clothes as best she could, she donned the bracelet and playfully tapped her fist against his armored torso. Of course, the man felt nothing, but surprise flickered across his angular face.

— Let’s go. I want to get back before lunch; I’m starving! And we’ll make someone happy with this find. I think you’ll get along with him. Guys, time to head out! — the petite yet confident girl commanded as she strode toward the main exit. The pigeons flapped their wings in unison and flew out through a wide-open window.

Grayson exhaled and shook his head silently, gathering his long jet-black hair streaked with silver into a ponytail. Casting one last glance around the room, he left just as silently, leisurely catching up to his new acquaintance.

~

Hi @hc-svnt-dracones95 ;) Thank you for your patience. <3 Thanks to @/merilinalex505 for some help with the translation. ^3^

[bellamos]

the hardest part about writing is finishing one idea and not forgetting about finishing it while you start another one.

i’m over here, brainrotting about two other fic ideas, and poor Ranboo’s in critical condition in “With Blobs of Color, I Walk Forward.” frozen in time, and not even I know if he’ll be okay at this point.

like, come on. make up your mind and make it happen. work on the new things later.😭 poor Ranboo.

[islands-0f-violence]

Kimetsu no... Isekai?

Synopsis: Modern Era MC is thrown into disarry inside the Demon Slayer universe. What could go wrong? Pairings: Various X MC/Reader

❝Under the harsh light of day, MC appears! Groggy and confused, our lovely MC has to figure out how she went from attending boring seminars to slaying demons within hours. With no memory to conclude how she got there--or why she got there--our MC adventures through the Taisho era with Tanjiro and company trying to figure out just why they're there, while trying to keep the story as linear as possible. Though, it's getting harder and harder to keep secrets as they keep piling up.❞

Chapter 1 [NEXT]

I winced at the bright light that suddenly enveloped my face. Covering my eyes from further abuse, I sat up in my bed and rubbed them out. I could've sworn I shut the curtains tight so this wouldn't happen. Upon placing my hand down on my bed, I felt a peculiar texture and immediately snapped my eyes open. Around me was greenery, something that isn't in my bedroom. I stumbled up from my bed—which happened to be made of moss—and looked around.

Where the fuck am I?

The last thing I remembered before dozing off was watching TenSura. Ah, what an anime. No! No time for that right now! I gotta figure out what happened. I felt around my person for anything but found nothing. I'm stranded out here with no phone or supplies.

Honestly, it's probably just a prank my friends pulled. Though this feels borderline too far, I suppose they wouldn't actually leave me for dead in the middle of some unknown place, right?

Right?

Sighing, I began to walk around. Well, not around, in as straight of a line as I could. I can't waste time going in circles. After a few moments of walking, I came across a dirt path. I'll be damned, I'm not completely lost. I still don't recall any dirt trails I'd personally know near me, though, so I just hope I'm not too far from home. Or a gas station. I really have to pee right now. I kept walking for quite some time and felt like I was getting absolutely nowhere. Suddenly, the trees and greenery around me got thinner and thinner. Once the trees had ended, I walked out into a nice field. On either side of the path I'm walking lies some sort of vegetable or something. Maybe rice? It's set up so weirdly… I don't think this is anywhere near my house.

Looking further ahead, there was a bright blob in the middle of the road. It wasn't moving and didn't look like any animal I'd seen, so I continued forward toward it. Maybe it'll have some telling of where I'm at.

As I got closer, my stomach began to twist. I felt such an intense wave of déjà vu wash over me, but I shoved it aside. Once I approached it, it became clearer and more person-sized? No, not just person-sized, but just a human! I crouched down beside them, they weren't making too much noise. Honestly, I was concerned because they were just trembling there.

"U-Uhm," I started out, but it felt like I haven't used my voice in days, "excuse me? Are you ok?" I went to reach out to nudge their shoulder when they stopped moving altogether. Their head snapped up suddenly and this man's amber eyes were locked onto mine.

And then he opened his mouth.

"AHHHHHHHHH! I thought I heard someone coming, but I thought I was crazy, but it turned out to be an angel sent from above!" In mere seconds he had pushed my back and was nuzzling my cheek, a sobbing mess. "You've got to marry me! MARRY ME PLEASE! I might die soon!" My face exploded in color as I tried to shove the strange man off of me. Looking around, there was no one here to help me so I panicked and began to hit him.

"Off! Get off of me!" He seemed to not care as he continued to cling to me and beg for marriage. I don't think I'm ready for that. As I continually assaulted him, I got a closer look at his face.

It was snotty, but I instantly recognized the blond and orange hair, the bushy brows, and—oh god—the haori. How could I not recognize this pattern sooner? My swings got weaker as I put the realization together and he seemed to quiet down a bit once he noticed, but I swung harder once I remembered cosplayers exist.

This man could just be pretending to be Zenitsu to cop a feel of random girls and blame it on his character! With this new fuel to my anger, I successfully kicked him off and scrambled backward onto my feet. I brushed my shorts off from the dirt path. He pulled himself back up and began to walk on his knees towards me, hands are done in a praying motion. "Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasemarryme-" he babbled.

"Ugh, just get away from me, it's pathetic you have to cosplay that just to touch a girl." He blinked, seemingly not understanding a word I said before he lunged. Screaming, I tried to turn and run off from his sudden attack, but he was too fast. Lightning fast. Does this kid do track in his spare time?

"You can't leave me here! I'll probably die on my next mission and if I do I'll never have the chance to marry someone so you have to marry me right now!" He was getting desperate, his fingers digging into my hips from how hard he was gripping. I was actually starting to tear up when suddenly his weight was forced off of me. I looked up and saw a man in a green and black haori, a box strapped onto his back and an irritated look adorned his face as he faced the blond.

Did I stumble into a cosplay reenactment scene and they used me as the girl? They began bickering, running through the same shtick as I slowly boiled with anger. Would it not hurt to ask someone's permission? Maybe I wouldn't have minded or even dressed up for it!

"This is so fucking stupid, next time ask someone before you involve them in your games." I snapped at the squabbling pair, effectively stopping their argument and I turned to walk off, hoping to find someone competent enough to help me.

"Stop! You're going to be my wife!" 'Zenitsu' reached out again, grabbing my shirt and yanking me back. I fell on my ass pretty hard and let out a groan. He squeaked and crawled over with speed to my side. "I'msosorryididntmeantopullyouthathard-" I held my hand up and stopped him, which to my surprise he did.

"A-Are you OK?" I looked up to see 'Tanjirou' reaching his hand out as if to help me up. I accepted and he pulled me up gently, even stepping in between me and 'Zenistu.' At least one of these guys has manners.

"Yes," I paused, contemplating asking him for directions. "Do you know how I could get back home? I don't know this area very well. We shouldn't be too far from [address], right?" His look changed to an uncertain one as he looked me over. This further puzzled him, I guess.

"[Address]? I haven't heard of anywhere like that near me. Which prefecture are you from?" Prefecture? Excuse me.

"Look, we're not in Japan so don't play with me right now. I'm looking for [address] in [State/Province]. You can drop the act." I swallowed as the boy in front of me struggled to understand. Even 'Zenitsu' was quiet, trying to figure out what I was talking about. Is it that hard to stop with the reenactment to help someone who's lost?

"But we are in Japan? What are you talking about?" I opened my mouth to further argue with him but stopped myself. I woke up out of nowhere in the middle of some forestry area. I don't remember getting there at all, not to mention I clearly remember laying in my own bed last night. To say I am confused is an understatement. I genuinely believe this is fake and there are cosplayers in front of me, but a part of me is scared. What if I'm actually here?

I shook my head, it's not possible. Looking back up at 'Tanjirou' who was waiting patiently for me, I reached up to run my hand through his hair. Before he could object, I already had his strands between my fingers and I felt over his head for bumps from possible wig caps. None. Leaving him red-faced and stammering, I turned to 'Zenitsu' who had watched the interaction with jealousy. I proceeded to do the same to him, which he absolutely enjoyed. But still no wig cap. I pulled my hand away to his disappointment and examined it for any spray-on dyes.

Ok, this has got to be either a really good dye job or my ass is in Kimetsu no Yaiba. And yet, for some reason, I felt calmer than I should. Maybe it's because I don't thoroughly believe it yet? And honestly, as excited as I am for an isekai, I at least want to know if it's real, y'know?

"I- Sorry, I just needed to know if this was… really happening." I covered it lamely. "What I mean is, I don't remember coming to Japan."

"How could you not remember coming?? You speak the language." The blond pointed an accusing finger at me. This puzzled me, I don't think I'm speaking Japanese. In fact, I don't hear it either.

"But your outfit… tells a different story." 'Tanjirou' commented, looking me over once more. I look down at myself to see the loose pair of shorts I sleep in and a random [design] shirt. There is literally nothing wrong with my outfit. Well, I guess unless I am in an anime set back in time, there is.

"Shut up! There's nothing wrong with her outfit!" OK, maybe this actually is Zenitsu. He giggled and crawled forward, reaching for my thighs when I slapped his hands away. "That's ok, I can wait for my… my…" I expected him to say wife, but it looks like he was going for something different. "What's your name?"

Of course, they wouldn't know your name, dipshit. "Sorry, it's [Y/N]."

"[Y/N]." Tanjirou tasted, slowing the pronunciation. "I knew your accent was strange, but this definitely backs up that you're a foreigner. My name is Kamado Tanjirou, but please, call me Tanjirou."

Not missing a beat, the blond beside him scrambled up and grabbed my hand, smiling. "I'm Agatsuma Zenitsu. Your future husband." I pulled my hand from his grasp and stifled back a laugh. Me? In this situation? Fanfiction could never beat this.

"You said you don't know your way around right? Well, more specifically that you don't know how you got here, you could come with me and I could take you to a nearby village?" That sounds like a shit idea, to be dropped off at a random village and just left. However, I could travel with them to their next mission and see if this place is actually real.

I opened my mouth to respond before Zenitsu butted in. "You! You got in my way once already, I'm not letting you again! We're going together!" He dramatically pointed at Tanjirou, seething at the idea of the two of us traveling alone.

"Fine, we'll go together then, but I do have a mission we need to complete." Zenitsu panicked and began to have a full meltdown again, to my and Tanjirou’s disappointment. After his scenic spazz attack, Tanjirou managed to hoist him up and get him to walk a way with us.

"Better now?" The redhead smiled at the other.

"Mm, yeah, but I'm hungry." I walked along the other side of Tanjirou, making sure I stood away from Zenitsu. Tanjirou reached into his haori, pulling out an onigiri and splitting it. He handed one half to Zenitsu and offered the other to me.

Not gonna lie, it looks good, but provided I'm experiencing this in real life, he's going to need it more than me. I shook my head, "Keep it, I feel nauseous. " I didn't lie, I do feel sick right now, but I'm not sure if it's just nervousness or not. Tanjirou opened his mouth to offer again, but I grabbed his arm and had him take a bite. He was surprised at my action but didn't bother offering it again. I know he was hungry, too, so I would keep chewing and swallowing as well.

"Eh?! Really, just eat in front of her?! Don't you have any other food!" Suddenly flustered, Tanjirou swallowed harshly and began sputtering.

"I-I'm sorry, this is all I had left-" I slapped Zenitsu upside his head for making Tanjirou panic. Not saying another word, Tanjirou finished his half, not trying to invoke anything like that out of me.

"Give it a rest! I'm not hungry, can't you listen?" I glared at the blond, who teared up in response.

"[Y/N]-chan, you've been hitting me all day! Why can't you hit Tanjirou like that?!" He brokenheartedly bit into his snack.

Tanjirou paled and looked at me. "Tanjirou hasn't been acting stupid! Also, it's only been like 20 minutes since we've met?!" The redhead was relieved to see I wasn't gunning him down. Tanjirou stuck his tongue out at Zenitsu before a crow circled above them and cawed out.

"Tanjirou! Zenitsu! Start running to your next destination! Run! Run!" Hearing that in person, yeah a little creepy.

"AHHHH- THAT CROW! IT JUST SPOKE TO US! crowsarentsupposedtodothatright?!" Zenitsu fell to the ground, having one of his episodes again. Instead of helping him, Tanjirou and I just stood there, staring at him with a blankly stare. Was it ever right for me to simp for this scrub?

( ˘▽˘)っ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The rest of the walk was decently calm, except for the occasional whining of Zenitsu wanting to stay back. We eventually reached our destination, which was a tall manor, mansion? Big home. Yes, that. I can't remember what happens here too well since it's been a minute, but there should he some kids around here. I scanned the area.

"I smell blood, lots of it." Tanjirou sniffed.

"Smell? I don't know about that, but I can hear something from inside… you hear it, right?" They looked at each other, and then at me. I looked back at them blankly.

"Huh? Did you ask me something?" They deadpan. Zenitsu begins to repeat it when Tanjirou interrupts him.

"Look, children. " We follow his gaze to the tree line where a young boy and girl stood, clinging to each other with wide eyes. Zenitsu is startled for a moment since he didn't hear them, but Tanjirou took the lead and stepped towards them carefully before crouching down to their height. I followed behind, hoping to not frighten them. "Hi! Is this your house?" The kids shook their heads and he continued. "Could you tell me what's wrong? I'm here to help you." After they showed no signs of speaking, Tanjirou pulled Zenitsu's sparrow out and presented it to them. "Look at what I have, it's a sparrow." It took a moment, but they relaxed and one of them finally spoke up.

"Th-There's a monster in there!" The boy choked out. "We were with my brother and a monster grabbed him! We followed them here with his blood but… he was hurt badly." The kids teared up. I wanted to hold them close and tell them it would be ok, but it felt weird. Like it wasn't my place.

"That was very brave of you two, to follow him all the way here. Don't you worry, me and my friend here are going to help him and reunite you three." The girl's eyes sparkled.

"Really?! You're going to save our brother!" Tanjirou gave her a kind smile and nodded.

"Hey, do you hear that? It's like drums." Zenitsu spoke up seriously, staring at the second-floor window. What happened here again? I listened closely, trying to hear what he was hearing but couldn't.

No-

I got up and ran towards the house but by the time I got there, I was too late. A body flung itself from the second story and landed mere feet in front of me. I stared down at it, wide-eyed, feeling the blood spatter hit my bare legs and cheeks. I heard the other two run towards me, Tanjirou crouching over the body. I remember this scene, as he's the one who comforted him in his last moments. Could I have saved him if I caught him? Or was he too far gone before that?

"Hey! Are you OK?" Zenitsu turned me around to face him, I stared at him blankly for a moment. He had a look of concern and his hands were around both of my wrists. I shook myself out of it and gave a half smile.

"Yeah, just wasn't expecting that." That was a lie. "I just was trying to hear what you were hearing." What I really didn't expect was a legitimate dead body. I didn't expect the realness of the situation. If I enter that house with them, will I come out like this next? I'm just an anomaly. Anything could happen to me.

Zenitsu felt around his person until he found a spare cloth that he happened to have. He placed one of his hands under my chin to look up at him and used the cloth to clean off what splattered on my face. He had a soft smile while he was doing it, and damn I almost melted right there. Well, that was until he finished with my face and dropped down, wiping at my leg while placing his other hand firmly on my ass to hold himself up. "I'll get you cleaned up, [Y/N]-chan~" This ruined it and I planted my foot against his chest to push him away. He fell backward, losing his grip on the cloth he had and I used it to quickly get what he didn't before he sat back up. "So mean…"

I turned to Tanjirou who finished laying the boy in a respective way. He turned towards the kids and gestured toward this man. "Is this… your brother?" They shook their heads and he sighed in relief. "Then we still have time." He bowed to the body before getting up and walking over to the kids. He took his box off and handed it to them, smiling. "This will protect you. I and my friend are going in for your brother, so just wait here with [Y/N] and everything will be alright!"

Thank God, he didn't expect me to go in with him. Zenitsu, however, looks like he was just given a life sentence. "I don't know if we should Tanjirou! I can't fight!" He cried. I glanced over at the kids who stared at him in obvious disgust. Eh, maybe I do wanna go in. I could see him make a fool of himself in front of those kids. Tanjirou's only response to that was to grab him by the haori and drag him to the entrance.

"We'll be back, [Y/N]! Stay with the kids." He waved as he and Zenitsu entered the building. I sighed, looking back at the box of his sister and the children. If it weren't the day, maybe I would take a peek inside. I crouched down beside it, reaching out to examine the materials used, and suddenly the box shook, and scratching sounds emitted from it. I jumped, and immediately felt stupid since I expected it to happen. The kids screamed and dashed for the main door.

I got up and ran towards them after I realized they were making a b-line for the entrance. "No! Don't go in there!" I was a few inches short of grabbing the boy's kimono when the door slid shut. I stood there, mid-run and my hand outstretched where the boy once was. I can't go in there, I won't live! But I have to, what will Tanjirou and Zenitsu think about me if I let those kids run in there?

Actually, Zenitsu wouldn't blame me one bit.

But that's not the problem, it's immoral. I reached for the door and went to open it, but it wouldn't budge. I glared at it and tried again. Still, no movement. I took a few steps back from the door and looked at the frame and—there! The door was slammed so hard, it broke the door frame. The door is now jammed into the wood, and therefore not moving. Huh, I guess I don't need to go then. Kicking the frame in slight frustration, I made my way back to Tanjirou's box and sat on the ground beside it. Soon enough, there were scratches coming from the box again. I furrowed my brows. Does she need something?

"Hello?" She doesn't know me yet, so I don't want to just start calling her name. "Is there someone in there?" I was met with silence. I waited a bit longer to see if she'd respond, but it seems since she can't sense Tanjirou outside the box, she doesn't want to. Tanjirou… "Are you worried about Tanjirou? He's going to be OK, trust me! He'll be back soon." I stopped at that, not wanting to give her too many details. Just give her hope for his return.

After a moment, there was more movement in the box, with no scratches this time. She must've been stressed before with Tanjirou leaving her here. I hope that brings her some peace.

It felt like a good hour, but eventually, there was movement from the house. Zenitsu came barreling out of the same window as the guy from before. In his arms was the boy from earlier. I gotta admit, he looks pretty cool when he's doing selfless stuff. I ran over to where he was going to land and, again, fell short and watched as he hit the ground. Fortunately, I knew he was going to be OK already.

The boy, however, didn't. "Ah! Are you OK?!" He gasped out, pointing at Zenitsu's head.

I looked closer and winced at the stream of blood where his head hit the ground. "Yeah, I'm better than ever since I got out of there, why?" He rubbed his head sheepishly and then froze when he felt something wet. Bringing his hand back in front of him, he saw blood and screamed. "TH-THAT'S WHY!" I pulled the cloth he was using earlier and pressed it against his wound for him. In response, he giggled gratefully and flushed. Man's was just dying and now he's blushing. Great.

A crush suddenly emitted from the other side of the building and a boar-headed figure rounded the corner. "I sense a demonic presence!" And then the most guttural cackle came from him. He started towards Tanjirou's box.

Honestly, I could care less because of damn this man's chest. Stop, stop ogling him right now, [Y/N]. I can't stop. Stop. I can't stop. Stop. I can't- UGHSG, get to Nezuko now! I can't get distracted by him, he's literally targeting her.

I half expected Zenitsu to get up as he does in the story, but he's too busy begging to be babied further by me to do it. I groaned and sprinted towards the box, Zenitsu sitting up confused behind me. I blocked Inosuke's leg as he came to kick back the box. His foot met my crossed arms and knocked me back into the box. A corner lodged itself into my back and I gasped in pain. Jesus fuck, that hurt.

"You, woman, get out of my way!" He pointed a sword down at me, tip at my nose. I scowled and pushed the box back further, backing up with it. He brought his sword up to swing it down when suddenly there was yellow in between us. Zenitsu stood there, arms out. "St-Stop! Leave her and the box alone!"

"There's a demon in that box and if you don't move I'll have to take you with it." Zenitsu stuttered for a moment, aware that he was right.

"No! Well, I mean! I know that! I'll ask Tanjirou when I see him, I just haven't yet." He glanced around nervously.

Inosuke didn't like this answer and pulled his arm back. "I don't care! I'll take him and his box out!" He proceeded to punch Zenitsu, who recoiled back at me. I caught him and stabilized his stance so he didn't fall over. Inosuke continued his pursuit and kicked Zenitsu's legs out from underneath him and began to kick him while he was down. In reflex, I got up and tackled the boar. This pisses me off too much to be able to stop and watch.

He laughed maniacally as we rolled over each other, fighting for dominance. I swung at him at any chance I got, but it was like my punches weren't doing anything to him. I kept my stomach and face as protected as I could, but there was only so much I could do when being rolled around on the ground. I could hear Zenitsu yelling out, but eventually, Inosuke's fist met my stomach and I gasped for air, letting go of him. He took advantage of this and got another hit on the side of my face. My ears were ringing and I tried to make out voices from it but had a hard time focusing on them and trying to breathe. I could feel myself being sat up as I began to breathe again. My hearing was clearing and Zenitsu was snapping to get my attention.

"[Y/N]! [Y/N]! Can you hear me? Oh my god, are you alive?!" I looked around before answering him, seeing Inosuke knocked back and Tanjirou standing above him, seething.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. It just made things fuzzy for a moment." I tried to get up but immediately got pulled back into Zenitsu's lap.

"No! You shouldn't get up after getting hit like that!" My eye twitched.

"Zenitsu, I'm fine. It just, like, stunned me for a moment, I guess." I tried to pry myself from his grasp again to no avail. I glanced over at Tanjirou who watched us with disgust I know people could only hold for Zenitsu. His attention was snatched by Inosuke once again as he began to sit up.

"I understand! Fight me, with your fists!" Tanjirou sweat dropped and told him no. Inosuke ignored him and lunged at him, Tanjirou missing just barely. I wiggled out of Zenitsu's grasp while they had their squabble. Eventually, Inosuke's head was grabbed and Tanjirou slammed his head into the boar's. There was a sickening crunch that I even heard and I winced.

"DIDYOUGUYSJUSTBREAKYOURSKULLS?!" Zenitsu screamed, shaking his head back and forth at the scene. The boar head slowly came off Inosuke and I stared in anticipation. Blue hair and vibrant green eyes were revealed and I squealed. Of course, I clamped my hand over my mouth, but I don't think it matters since neither guy was looking my way. "EH?! A girl's face! How could someone with your personality be so pretty!"

Inosuke turned towards Zenitsu. "Got a problem with my face?!" He huffed.

"No! There isn't a problem! It's just that most people, including me, would consider it an attractive face!" Tanjirou smiled nervously. This seemed to rile Inosuke up further. I had no comments, I just wanted to soak up this moment and look. He caught my gaze and lunged forward again.

"You! Do you have a problem with my face? Stop staring!" He growled as Tanjirou and Zenitsu caught him halfway. "I'm going to fight all of you! Fight me! Headbutt me! Just fight me!"

"Stop! We can't do that!"

"Stop! It's taboo to fight with each other! Is it really that fun to you? To beat those who are weaker than you??"

The guy flexibly bounced back, doing a flip and landing in an interesting pose. "Fight me now! I'm flexible, strong! I won't take no for an answer."

"Stop bending like that! You've got broken ribs! That can't be good for you." They cry.

"There is no one else like me! Only I can do this! Aren't I awesome?! Aren't I?!" He smiled up at them in his scorpion pose. "Now fight me!"

"No!" Everyone yells.

"You know what! I'll tell you my name! Hashibara Inosuke! You better remember it!" He stood up straight.

"How is it spelled??" Tanjirou piped up.

Inosuke was taken aback. "Spelled?! Eh! I don't know how to spell, or read! I just know my name was written on my loin-ACK!" He paused. We watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell back.

Zenitsu screamed. "Is he dead?!" Tanjirou quickly knelt down beside the man and sighed in relief.

"He's just unconscious! I bet I gave him a concussion when I headbutted him." He smiled.

"A-Are you OK?" The girl spoke up, Tezuka? Teruko? Teruko I think.

"Yes! I was born with a really hard head, like my mother!" He smiled proudly. Teruko grinned at him and reached up.

"Could I touch your head?" He nods and lowers his head for her and she runs her small hand across it, even tapping it. "Wow, it is tough!" I lean in and reach out as well. Might as well do it, too, since he's offering. My palm came into contact with his forehead and he turned red. I ran my thumb across it and the red mark and smiled.

"Yeah, it's hard." Zenitsu began whining behind me, disappointed.

Tanjirou stared for a moment before he got up hurriedly. "I-I think we should start burying the dead. There were countless people in there." He started off in the direction of the house, before making Zenitsu give him his haori and taking his own off to make sure Inosuke was more comfortable. After that, he barely spared me a glance before taking Zenitsu with him inside again. Was I not going to help?

( ˘▽˘)っ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Yeah, I helped more than they wanted me to. How do I know this? The moment they brought the first bodies out, I helped with the burials and they kept trying to push me away. I proved stubborn and kept assisting where I thought I could. There was a sudden movement from behind us and we turned just in time for Inosuke to get up and face us.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked.

“We’re burying the dead, you should help.” Inosuke turned his head up in distaste.

“I don’t need to help, I see no reason to bury them.” I opened my mouth to say something since he was so rude about it, but Tanjirou beat me to it. Honestly, I preferred his response anyway.

“Oh, it’s OK, I see. You’re too injured to help, right? Please, lay down and get some rest. I wouldn’t want you to overdo it.” He gave a coy smile. I had to stifle my laugh. Way to go. Even Zenitsu looked impressed.

Inosuke growled and pointed at him. “No! I can do it! I can bury more bodies than you ever could!” And with that, he ran off back into the estate. With him hard at work, we got everyone buried properly. Paying one last bit of respect, we turned to leave. In the distance, Inosuke was rushing head-first into trees. Tanjirou’s crow circled above us, calling out and shocking the children.

“Go down the mountain!”

“Is that crow really talking?” Shoichi asked.

“Crows actually have higher intelligence than most people believe. It’s very possible.” I smiled down at him. He nodded in thought.

We walked for another 10 minutes before the path split and the three siblings took the left. They bowed and thanked us for escorting them down. Zenitsu caused a scene, dragging Shouichi down, and begging him not to leave us. After some convincing, we pulled him off and went our separate ways once the crow handed the ward to the kid. As soon as they were out of sight, Inosuke began to pick another fight with Tanjirou.

“Come! Fight me, you!” He pointed at the redhead. I groaned inwardly.

“Dude, can’t you calm down?” I poked my finger into his forehead, pushing him back.

“You! Weak woman, fight me as well!”

Ticked, Tanjirou spoke up again. “We have names you know! I’m Kamado Tanjirou, and this is Agatsuma Zenitsu and [Y/N]!” Inosuke laughed at this.

“Alright, Gonpachiro Kamaboko! I’ll beat you.” He stated seriously. Zenitsu and I could help it and laugh.

"Excuse me, who? I don’t know who you’re talking about!” Tanjirou whined.

“You! Gonpachiro!” In response to this, Tanjirou retorted with his proper name.

I sighed. “This is exciting.”

Shortly after that argument, we came to a gate with a Wisteria crest on it. I marveled at the size of it as the crow came back within distance and landed on Tanjirou. “Rest! Anyone who was injured, rest!” Tanjirou raised a brow, skeptical of the crow's comment.

“Huh, what about earlier when I was fighting with my broken rib and leg from the mission before?!” The crow looked sheepish and let out a dry cough. Inosuke popped up on the other side of him and grasped his tail, holding him up.

“Let’s eat him.” I gagged at the idea of it, and the crow itself screamed in discontent, flapping to get away.

The gate creaked open and an elder woman stepped through, a warm smile on her face. “Hello, welcome. You guys are demon slayers, right?” There were glances my way before they curtly nodded. Well, except for Inosuke.

He stood beside her, poking a finger into the side of her head. “What are you? A demon? Huh?? You look weak.” Steam escapes through his mask.

“Rude!” Tanjirou exclaimed, but the old lady seemed unbothered.

“Please, come in.” She turned to the side and entered the gates, walking ahead at an alarming pace. In hopes of keeping up, I quickly scrambled after her, and the others followed shortly. She led us to one room and gestured inside. The boys entered and before I could step foot, she stopped me. “Here, I have a separate room for you to change in.” Huh, understandable. She led me not too far down the hall to another room and handed me a clean yukata. It was just white with a faint, generic pattern in it. So simple. “When you’re done, you can come back down the hall to the left and I’ll have food prepared.” I nodded and she left before I could say thank you.

Once I had changed and put my scuffed-up clothes to the side, I stepped out into the hall. It was empty, except for the faint noises coming from Tanjirou and the others. I honestly didn’t know where I was going, but I didn’t worry too much as I had the sound of their voices to follow. I came up to a lit-up room with a crack in the door. I pushed it open to reveal four sets of food, Tanjirou and Inosuke were sitting next to each other while Zenitsu had the empty spot reserved beside him, waving me down. I tentatively took a seat beside him, causing him to squeal.

I picked up my chopped sticks and tried some of the food, a little clumsily, might I add. I liked most of it and picked around a few parts I didn’t quite enjoy. Across from me, Inosuke had his boar head off, eating away at his food with his hands. Huh, I wonder if they’ll care if I do the same. One day if I get tired of it, I’ll break down and do it, too. “She’s a monster!” He shovels a mouthful of rice and shrimp in his mouth and begins to speak again. “Granny’s a monster! She does things too fast!” Tanjirou recoils in disgust.

“Use your chopsticks!” Inosuke stops for a moment and grins before snatching some of his food off his plate. Zenitsu was clearly bothered at the sight, but kept his mouth shut in fear of falling victim, as well, I’m sure. Tanjirou went to put some more of his food on Inosuke’s plate, but I stopped him and proceeded to place what I had left on my plate on his. Honestly, it was mostly the things I didn’t like from the selection, so it wasn’t a loss for me. “Oh, I wouldn’t have minded, [Y/N]!”

I shrugged. “I didn’t like that anyways, might as well give it to someone who will eat it.” I took a drink of my tea. He nodded back in understanding and continued to eat. Zenitsu tugged on the sleeve of my shirt and offered his chopsticks to me.

“[Y/N]-chan! Feed me please~ I’m so tired.” I groaned and declined.

“No, thanks. I’m not interested. If Tanjirou and Inosuke can feed themselves, you can, too.” I huffed. He pouted and began to eat again, albeit dejectedly.

After everyone was finished, they went to the room they were originally in. There were three futons set up in the boy's room and I inwardly groaned. I expected this, but I’m too nervous to say anything about it so I’ll just suck it up. I walked back to my room alone and shut the door behind me. The room was scarcely decorated and a decently fluffy-looking futon was in the center of the room. I sunk into the bedding and turned over, thinking about today’s events.

[kairiscorner]

heyooo, it's 🫐 again! i'm in the middle of class rn and i had an idea for student!reader as miles' classmate and them giggling over notes and doodles in class. this then gets the both of em caught by the teacher and what happens next is up to you, ate >:))

HI !! OMG, wait ang cute MMRHRRFNJFNMMM having art class today's got me thinking of some shit, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

doodles on the margins. – miles 1610 x gn!reader

being miles' seatmate is a massive blessing, yet... also a massive curse. the curse being that neither of you could keep your pens, pencils–even brushes, be it paint or calligraphy–away from the others' clear notebook pages or clean scratch papers. you both would always come home with littered designs and doodles, expressing your feelings to each other out on the margins of your notebooks and the corners of your book pages.

in art class, you both took the liberty of expressing your feelings and viewpoints out to the world, like how your teacher defined what art was; it starts with an idea, and then becomes a beautiful flurry of colors, words, movements and all. you were both giggling as you drew on his notebook's margins, with your knuckles brushing over the side of his hand as his fingers would make contact with the back of your hand as you both ran the tips of your pencils over the once clear and spotless pages.

"what is that?" miles asked you in a hushed voice, accompanied by the ringing sound of his chuckle. you pointed out that your cute little blob of a creature was a fat frog, that looked utterly adorable. miles shook his head as he doodled a spider crawling down the margins next to the frog. "i know frogs don't look that goofy." "that's because you've never met my frog before, miles." you said with a giggle as miles asked you in a whisper shout, " you have a frog?!"

"yes, mr. morales? would you and your friend like to, um, make our art class a biology class?" your art teacher spoke up, asking you both with a confused smile about what you two were discussing. the two of two of you froze up and widened your eyes as the whole class turned their heads and darted their gaze your way. "u-um... just expressing our freedom of opinion... through our creative minds!" he said with an awkward smile as the art teacher nodded and smiled wider. your teacher walked over to you two and asked to see miles' notebook, but with the two of you reluctantly showing them the doodle covered margins of the notebook.

the teacher looked through it, and unexpectedly, their smile widened as they saw all the little creatures and people you two drew. they handed it back with a mutter of 'how creative' under their breath. the teacher then clasped their hands together and announced a surprise assignment: to fill the margins of their art notebooks with as many doodles as the students can fit. "i'll be looking forward to your output, you two." they said with a soft voice as you two bashfully smiled and thanked your art teacher and hurried off.

you both breathed a sigh of relief and slight confusion. "so... guess we have our work cut out for us now?" you asked miles as he nudged your arm with his elbow with a crooked smile. "ganke dmed me, he's telling me he won't make dinner for us tonight because we inspired the teacher about homework." miles said with a sigh as you faked a disappointed groan. "well then, text him back that i'll treat you out to a nice dinner and date to the art museum nearby? let's pretend curfew doesn't exist." you said with a wide grin as miles chuckled back. "oh, well... okay then, who am i to say no?" he asked you as you gently took his hand in yours and he held your hand back and walked down the halls with you–smudged ink stains and pencil marks on the side of both of your hands as you two walked down the halls.

tags !! @ii01vq @toneystank-3000 @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @onginlove @meowmoraless @solecitoszn @maxoloqy @lovefrominaya @conitagray

[chuuyrrkissrr]

I was taught to heal, yet thrown into war—so I will mend you with hands that still bleed. | reader-insert (22,579 words) by chuuyrrkisser

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ayatsuji Yukito (Bungou Stray Dogs) & Reader, Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs)/Reader, Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)/Reader Characters: Ayatsuji Yukito (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: I wrote this because I feel bad for what I'm about to write in my other fics..., shojo coded reader, somewhat shojo coded fic, I know it sounds horrible from the first chapter but trust it's not, Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions (Bungou Stray Dogs), Isekai and Transmigration, Reader-Insert

Your shoulder clips the corner too fast—too sharp—and the next moment, the world lurches. A jolt, then a sickening crack. Something topples. Cold fragments scatter like a thrown deck of cards, a chorus of shattering bursts ringing out one after the other.

You don’t know how you got here.

The sting hits a breath later—sharp, biting. Maybe your arm. Maybe your cheek. It’s hard to tell. There’s a prickle across your skin, like glitter made of glass. The air smells sweet, cloying, thick with too many scents at once.

You try to move, but the weight of confusion pins you harder than whatever you just broke. There’s a ringing in your ears. Or maybe that’s just the echo of whatever just fractured around you.

You don’t know why you moved the way you did. Why you fell. Why your legs didn’t listen. Why everything feels off-kilter, like the room doesn’t belong to you, or maybe you don’t belong to it.

You’re not sure if you’re still falling, or if you’ve already landed.

The high-pitched ringing begins to ebb, replaced by the murmur of voices—soft, urgent, confused. You can’t make out words at first, only the rhythm of concern. A moment later, you pry your eyes open, just barely.

The light isn’t harsh. It’s dim, warm. But even that dull glow pricks at your eyes like a needle, blurring your sight until everything swims in colors. Blobs—soft pinks, pale golds, rich reds. Slowly, your vision sharpens.

Women. Several of them.

They're standing a few paces away, their faces frozen somewhere between shock and whispered speculation. One of them rushes out, her footsteps swift and purposeful, the soft rustle of her silk robe following in her wake.

You blink again. Then again. You push yourself upright with slow, cautious movements, trying to piece together what just happened. The sound crunches beneath your hand—your eyes flick downward. Glass. Everywhere.

Turning, you see it.

A vanity—its wide mirror fractured down the middle like a spiderweb, catching what little light there is and splintering it. Bottles shattered. Dust from powder compacts like soft snow on lacquered wood. The disaster... it looks recent. Yours.

You swallow dryly.

Looking around, you take in the rest of the room. It’s traditional, elegant—delicate panel walls, carved wood, and all around you, the women in graceful kimonos, hair neatly done, faces painted with care. They must have been preparing for something. Before you happened.

Their gazes flit toward you, cautious, curious, but no one comes forward.

Your breath feels shallow. You push yourself to your feet with slow, deliberate care, eyes on the floor, trying to avoid the glittering shards. Every step is a soft dance around danger. You spot the door.

You walk toward it, stiff, awkward, not meeting anyone’s gaze. You need to know where you are. You need to get out.

Your fingers barely graze the doorframe before a shadow slips in front of you. The soft swish of silk is the only warning you get before a woman—tall, poised, unsmiling—blocks your path.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Her voice is calm, but there’s a firmness behind it that leaves no room for ignoring.

You blink up at her, unsure, still shaky. “Home,” you say, like it’s obvious. Like it makes sense.

But her expression doesn’t shift. If anything, it dips slightly—brows drawing inward, lips pressing into a quiet frown. Not angry. Just... puzzled. As if you’d said something strange. Or childish.

“There is no going home,” she says after a moment. “Not from here.”

The words hang heavy between you. Her eyes sweep over you—your clothes, your confusion, the way you’re still clearly trying to piece things together. “You’re in the red light district, girl. The men out there are drunk, broke, and hungry for something to claim. Foreign city girl like you steps out into those streets? They’ll tear you apart before the night cools.”

You feel something twist in your chest. “I don’t know how I got here,” you admit, voice smaller now. “But I don’t belong here. I just want to leave.”

The woman folds her arms, gaze unreadable. “Doesn’t matter how you came. What matters is that you’re here. And the owner—” she tilts her head back slightly, eyes flicking toward the hall where the other woman ran off to, “—will be here soon to deal with you.”

You look past her, to the closed door, to the fading murmur of voices behind. She doesn’t move.

“I don’t know what they’ll do with you,” she says. “Maybe they’ll throw you back out. Maybe they’ll keep you. But if it’s the latter...” Her voice lowers. “You’ll have to learn fast. This place doesn’t wait for anyone. And no one survives here by being soft.”

Your throat tightens, and you try to swallow it down, but it’s too late. The sting behind your eyes builds faster than you can control. You blink once, hard, but the tears slip past anyway, trailing warm down your cheeks before you can stop them.

You bite your lip, turn your face slightly—but the woman doesn’t move, still blocking the door. Still watching.

You hadn’t fully understood it until now—not really. Not until her words settled into your chest like stones. You’re trapped. Not metaphorically. Not figuratively. Trapped. In a place that smells like powder and perfume and something else beneath it. A place you don’t recognize. With people who don’t know you. A place you never meant to be.

You don’t even know how you got here.

The room falls quiet again. No more whispers. Just the rustle of silk as one woman shifts uncomfortably. Another glances away. One pretends to adjust her robe, suddenly interested in nothing.

They’ve seen women cry before. You can feel it. It’s in the air—how they hesitate, how their faces don’t show surprise, just a tired sort of acceptance. But this is different.

You're different.

Your frame is too small. Your voice too soft. Your eyes too wide. You’re not old enough to be here. Not really. Not for what this place demands.

And that unsettles them. You can tell. They don’t know where to place you, what to do with this—not just the tears, but the you who’s crying them.

Still, the woman at the door doesn’t step aside. She only lowers her voice.

“…Crying won’t help you here,” she says quietly, almost gently, but not unkindly. “If anything, it makes you easier to take.”

Your stomach twists so hard it feels like it’s folding in on itself. The woman’s words echo in your head— “Crying makes you easier to take” —and bile rises up fast, sharp and burning, threatening to choke you.

But then the door creaks open behind her.

The woman steps aside.

Standing in the threshold is someone new. Older. Smaller in stature, but the air in the room changes the moment she enters, like even the walls take notice.

She’s dressed in layers of expensive silk, hair pinned high with glinting ornaments that chime softly as she moves. Her gaze falls on you instantly—sharp, deliberate, and far too calm.

Her eyes rake over you��head to toe. You feel it. Every pause. Every measure. When her lips curl into a slow, practiced smile, your skin crawls.

“Oh, now look at you,” she murmurs, stepping closer. Her voice is smooth, like honey dripped over knives. “Poor thing. Don’t cry.”

She reaches up, cupping your face with both hands, her thumbs brushing along the tear tracks on your cheeks. The skin of her fingers is soft, but her touch is too practiced, too familiar. Like you’re something she’s already decided belongs to her.

Then her hand trails lower.

Down your jaw.

To your neck.

Her finger lingers at your throat, pressing lightly—as if testing something. The blood drains from your face. You flinch, stepping back.

She laughs softly. Not offended. Amused.

“I’m the owner of this place,” she says, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. “And my, aren’t you a surprise. A little dove dropped right into our lap.”

She folds her hands neatly in front of her, her smile widening. “So young. So foreign. Oh, they’ll line up for you. Especially the ones who’ve grown bored of our usual girls. A little mystery sells well, you know. And with that soft face…” She clucks her tongue. “You’ll make a pretty coin.”

The room stays silent behind you. No one interrupts. No one disagrees.

“No,” you say, your voice cracking, but steady enough. “I don’t want your money. I just want to go home.”

The words hang there for a second, raw and trembling. “My dad—he’ll be worried.”

The owner’s lips twitch, then she slips out a soft laugh. It’s not loud, not mocking, but it slices all the same.

“Oh, sweet thing,” she says, tilting her head. “So sure of that, are you?” Her gaze darkens with something else now—something a little cruel, a little entertained. “Are you certain it wasn’t your dear father who sold you here?”

Your breath catches in your throat. The room warps for a moment, your skin cold and hot at once.

It isn’t true. It can’t be true. You know it in your bones—your father would never. He’s in another country, a whole world away from this place with its hanging lanterns, the faint perfume of powdered skin, and the brushstroke signs painted in Japanese characters that you can barely read.

But she’s not trying to convince you. She’s trying to crack you.

You square your shoulders, swallowing the nausea rising in your throat. “I’m not doing that,” you say, firmer this time. “I’ll clean, scrub floors, anything. But I’m not selling myself. I’m too young.”

The room is still.

The old woman’s smile falters just a fraction—but only for a second. Then she sighs, almost wistfully.

“The younger you are,” she murmurs, “the more valuable you are. Especially with a face like yours.” Her eyes flick to the others in the room, as if reminding them—or daring them—to contradict her. None do.

“But,” she says, letting the word stretch, “I suppose we can make... arrangements. For now.”

She steps back, one finger tapping against her lips as if in thought. “You’ll work. Wash clothes. Sweep floors. Serve the girls their tea. Whatever I say. That mouth of yours might be naïve, but I like spirit. It might keep you breathing longer.”

Her gaze sharpens again, and her voice lowers.

“And if you change your mind…” She smiles, too wide. “You come to me. Only me. Understood?”

[miko32]

Born into the Seven Ruler's of Devildom

I was isekai'd to a world in a book. The title was "Kristin in the Harem of the Seven Demon Lords." Like its title, a human named Kristin was brought to Devildom against her will and had to survive through the temptation of the seven demon lords, who were brothers and avatars of the seven sins.

The seventh brother, Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth.

The sixth brother, Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.

The fifth brother, Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust.

The fourth brother, Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.

The third brother, Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy.

The second brother, Mammon, the Avatar of Greed.

The first brother, Lucifer, the fallen angel, the Avatar of Pride. My father. The one who succeeded in seducing the human Kristin and impregnating her.

I was in shambles with the ending. Lucifer had kicked Kristin out, banished to the swamp and died giving birth. The baby survived and was named Leilel by Kristin, and that baby is me.

I'm Leilel Morningstar, the child of Lucifer Morningstar.

Chapter List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 ---- Royal Academy of Diavolo

Like the name suggests, the academy is a school for demons built by the prince of Devildom, Lord Diavolo. He is the same demon who put my mother, Kristin, into this place.

The novel tells that Diavolo put two humans in the school. They were promised a wish if they could survive for a whole year. It was more of an entertainment for the dark prince to see who would win, the avatars or the humans.

The other human, a sorcerer, managed to survive.

But not Kristin. Tempted by Lucifer’s lies of love, she died giving birth to me.

“Jekejeje!!!” Pink exclaimed. 

I turned to the blops. “Thank you.” The blobs let out a weird cry, begging for me not to go. I laughed. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll go home on weekends and vacation.

“Jheyeygeha,” Blue asked me whether I’m certain to do this. He is giving me a chance to go back and live normally in the swamp. I smiled and held his tiny hand. 

Going back to the swamp does seem easy. I can see myself living there until my old age, with the blops, of course. I will be safe, secure, and happy. And it's not like Lucifer and his brothers are out there hunting me. But going to RAD is the like going into the tiger's demon's den.

I exhales, holding Blue’s cheeks as we looked eye to eye.

“Blue, I need to do this. I can’t stay in the swamp for the rest of my life, I want to live.” 

Blue was quiet, he nodded. He kissed my forehead for comfort.

“Blehehegegheh!”

“Fejegeheheaja!”

“Gegehegeg!”

The blobs said their goodbyes as I walked toward the gates. “See you, everyone!”

The gates of RAD opened by themselves, taking a deep breath, I strode in. I still had my head looking back, watching the blobs getting smaller and smaller as I walked further. I turned back forward when I entered the building.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Walking into RAD is like entering a war zone, not in metaphor or like high school problems. This is a school for demons and a place where the seven lords are more often than in the city. There's a possibility I’ll be in the same class as them, not to mention my own father.

The thought brings shivers to my spine.

As long as I don’t get caught. I even changed my whole appearance. My hair used to be black, and I turned it blue. My eyes were purple lilacs, and I changed them to orange brown. The lenses are uncomfortable, but it's for the safety of my identity. Purple lilacs are very rare in Devildom, belonging only to two demons: Beelzebub and Belphegor, the two lords. It would be suspicious if a new demon suddenly appeared with the same color eyes as them.

I find my way to the RAD council room. Two heavy black doors in front of me make me feel intimidated. I take deep breaths, in and out.

"Don’t worry," I tell myself. Even if I look scared, they would think it's because a new demon is facing the lords of the demon world before her. They wouldn’t be suspicious. They couldn’t!

I keep telling myself to be positive and brave. "Step it up!" I say to myself.

If they do recognize me...

No, let's not go there. I shake my head and lift my hand, knocking a few times and opening the door.

"AGGGGHHHH!!!"

I yelp and almost slam the door closed again.

"No!!! I lost! No, no, nooooo…"

"Are you sure you’re a pro, Levi?"

"Don’t you dare question my profession when you just sleep all day, Belphegor!"

I peek from the door, and there I see the two lords of envy and sloth playing PSP.

"Seriously, why are you two here if you’re gonna play games all day?!" the lord of wrath, Satan, scolds them.

"Hey! Who wants to be at school on weekends before it starts?! This is all because Mammon ditched his work on me!" the avatar of envy complains, banging the table with his fist. "Lucifer too! Why did he let him get away just because he had some shoots?! No fair, no fair!"

"Mammon promised to pay your debt with the photoshoot, right?" Belphegor leans his head down.

"Don’t you know our scumbag brother-!" Leviathan stops as his purple-orange eyes meet mine. I shriek and close the doors again. Words come flooding into my head.

“Do what I say, human! After all, you’re just a stupid normie weak human!” the avatar of envy, Leviathan, shouted at Kristin.

I tightly close my eyes, taking deep breaths. In and out, in and out, in-!

I yelp when the council room door opens, revealing the three lords standing before me. I bow my head, hoping my hair hides my face.

“Good morning, my lords, I’m—I’m Lami! The new student at RAD!” I blurt out the words.

“Oh? You must be the new demon who's coming today, huh?” I hear the voice belonging to Satan.

“New demon? How old is she?”

I hear a rustle of paper as the three demons fall silent. They gasp, and my heart skips again.

“You’re thirteen?!”

“That’s really young!”

I slowly look up at their shocked looks. It seems they care more about my age than my face.

“Um, excuse us, please come in, Lami.” Satan motions for me to come in. “Sit here,” He gestures to a long table with many seats. In front of the table is a higher table with seven seats in a row, and one seat is much higher. It looks like a courtroom rather than a council room.

The place is like a courtroom, and several men are looking my way. In that courtroom, Diavolo, the ruler of demons, introduces himself. Then he introduces his right-hand man, Lucifer.

"We'll see how she survives until the end of the semester," Lucifer smiles, something sinister and evil in it.

This is the exact same place where the demons summoned Kristin.

“Miss Lami? Why don’t you take a seat?” Satan encourages. I look up at his small fake smile.

Satan, the avatar of wrath and the fourth-born. The book tells that Satan may look like an average gentleman, but he is actually malicious and pretentious with all those smiles he gives away so easily, just like now.

I bow my head. “Forgive me, Lord Satan,” I say and take a seat.

The blond demon seems satisfied by my obedience. He takes a seat at his throne. Leviathan and Belphegor have seated themselves as well.

Belphegor speaks first. “Lami, you don’t have any demon scent on you?”

It's a tradition for demons to scent each other, much like a dog marking its territory. Belphegor's question refers to the fact that I have no parents.

“No, my lord, I have no parents.”

“And you were raised in a swamp?” Levi asks, his eyes widening in shock. “Don’t usually demons go there for isolation? Eheheh, you must be an introvert.”

I was thrown away by your brother.

I say the words I've practiced. “The swamp is a perfect place to strengthen myself, my Lords.”

“Is that a way to say that you’re poor?” Belphegor asks, he laughs off with Leviathan.

I clench my hand under the desk. I need to keep my composure. These demons would be satisfied with my reaction.

Satan coughs to hide his laughs. “Well, apart from you having no relatives nor money, I can see you are quite intelligent.” Satan looks through the documents in his hands. It must be information regarding my grades and tests I had taken.

Usually, it would take a hundred years for a new demon to take the RAD test because of the hard curriculum and the need to study subjects that involve millennial knowledge. Luckily, one thing I'm grateful for regarding my bastard father is his brain. 

Satan puts his papers down and looks at me. “So, Lami, why go to RAD so fast?” Satan asks, putting his hands together. “What’s your goal?”

The three lords look at me more seriously, gone are the playful demons. They must be evaluating whether I’ll be an enemy or not. Many demons are against the demon prince, Diavolo, and the Seven Lords must take action.

All I can do is be honest.

“My Lords, I’m interested in one program RAD offers, the exchange program,” I say with a stern voice. “I would love to go to the human world and tempt many humans.”

The Lords are silent as they consider my answer.

Yes, this is the goal. To go home, to the human world, my world.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"This is your room," the demon, guide of the RAD dorm, opened the door for me. Inside was a five-square-foot room with a single bed. There were desks and drawers for my clothes. A simple but quaint room.

The memory came in a blur when I was human. It was my college year, and I had moved into my dorms. Three old ladies came in with boxes and luggage. They said to call them often, then kissed and hugged me like my Blops did.

I frowned. Even in my first life, I was raised by guardians. Though the ladies seemed nice, I can't even remember their names.

"Here's your key," the demon tossed it onto the study desk. "There are the dorm rules at the bulletin, just read that. But... There's no curfew here," the demon shrugged his shoulders, eyes glinting dangerously. "So, a new demon like you should be careful around here," the demon licked his lips in a twisted smile.

I kept my composure, but inside, my stomach dropped. The demon waved goodbye and closed the door. I stayed still in the middle of my room, listening to the demon's steps fade away. Once they were gone, I dropped to my knees.

"Hahhhhhhh," I exhaled. "That was so intense," I pushed myself to lean on the bed leg, pulling my feet to my chest and hugging them. I stayed on the floor until I calmed down. I needed to pull myself together.

There are still four demon lords I need to face tomorrow, not to mention my father. I groaned and shook my head. I'm still not out of the woods yet. The demon guide me before was right; I'm a new demon with no relation with powerful demons, no money, no name, nothing. Every demon would make me their sacrificial lamb. That's why I needed a demon on my side. A powerful demon.

And there is one demon I could ask for. That demon has no relation with the seven lords and who hates Lucifer with all his might.

Mephistopheles

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Batteries Not Included Ch 7 Acceptance

whoaaa I can finally post the full art @waldos-art made for this fic! (again, they were great to work with, zoom in and check out all the different faces)

As always, thank you @fkinkindagauche for the great beta work. Go check out their Tumblr-exclusive fic, Down By the Water for a palate cleansure (it's so silly and funny and cute)

Chapter tags: Friendship is magic taken very literally, El with a sword, body horror

divider by @/saradika-graphics

For a second, El thinks that she landed somewhere new.

She's used to this world being mostly empty—an endless stretch of white void. Just like the lab.

Now there's a rip across the sky. Ahguis are coming out of the edges, mouths full of sharp teeth wide open in silent screams.

It looks painful, like they're getting squeezed out and rejected from wherever they're supposed to be.

But there isn't time to dwell on whether the Ahguis might be hurting or if they might just look that way or whatever. El materializes a sword into her hand and beheads the nearest monster. She feels a pang of fear as she looks up at the sky. She's only fought one Ahgui once before, the one that took Billy. Papa made her practice against simulations, but even the simulations had just two or three enemies at a time.

She's staring down dozens. And more are coming.

El twirls her sword like Steve twirls his bat and rushes at another one to chop its arms off. But that doesn't seem to kill it. It just scrambles away from her. The arm rolls away with the body. More monsters try to approach only to back up and try to run away when she lops something off their bodies. But it's like there's a barrier that keeps the Ahguis from fleeing too far. So they cluster right up to that edge and cower.

She does not like this.

She does not like standing over them. Sword in hand. Dripping in their blood. She does not like the vast whiteness of this space, the gash up in the sky, the fear in the Ahguis' eyes. It reminds her of her and Papa.

She does not want to be here. She wants to read books with Steve. She wants to throw orange balls into a net with Lucas. She wants to watch Max shoot little blobs of circles on a screen. She wants to mess around with the claw machine and help Mike win all the prizes. She wants to hug them and never let go. She wants to go home and eat the mouthbreather's eggs.

And as she thinks, the floor turns to carpet. Little orange balls start to bounce and dribble everywhere. The colorful blobs Max likes to shoot flit around. The Ahguis chase the movement of the balls with their eyes.

El thinks harder.

El thinks about reading under the blankets with a light Mike made for her, all snuggled up under the duckies, safe and warm. She thinks about Eggos on her plate. The no-pulp orange juice in her cup. The smell of coffee in Steve's cup. How something can smell so wonderful but taste so bad at once.

El thinks about finding a small corner of the living room to color the pictures. About Steve gently placing a plate of crackers by her feet. And she feels the world start to shift. To shrink. To soften. At some point, she no longer has a sword in hand. The Ahguis tentatively touch the things she is putting out. Plates of Eggos. Coloring books. Max's board. The arcade. And they melt away with a sigh of relief at each contact. The gash in the sky continues to widen. Ahguis continue to fall out of the edges. But this time, when they fall, it's not into a cold, white void.

El walks forward as she thinks hard, and more, about all the things she read about. About penguins and whales and jellyfish and spiders. She watches the world shift around her, and the Ahguis melt away.

She notices one of the Ahgui leaves behind a blue orb. It shivers and shies away when she picks it up. She peeks at it. A vicious storm is causing giant waves inside the orb, but she can see a small sliver of sun behind the clouds. It reminds her of the mouthbreather. This must be his missing piece.

A bigger, rough hand suddenly shoves her. El barely manages to catch herself in time. She whips around to see Henry.

He is changed. Big bulbs of flesh bubble from all over his body. He grabs an Ahgui that was about to melt away and shoves it, flailing, into his mouth. El watches as his face extends and warps impossibly wide to swallow the Ahgui whole.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Henry snarls.

"Closing the breach," El whispers, stepping back.

"I'll close it when I'm done," Henry says, giving El a little shove, "go away."

But the Ahgui do not want to be eaten. They do not want to be here even. Henry is not closing the breach. Henry is opening it.

"No," El whispers. She sets her mouth and looks at Henry in the eyes. "No," she repeats, louder.

"Suit yourself," Henry smiles, all sharp angles, and flexes his neck. There is an empty whiteness that surrounds Henry where he stands. He concentrates, and the empty area attempts to expand.

But it doesn't.

The border of Henry's white void meets El's world. It shudders and spasms then retreats. Henry yells as a whale brushes past him. One of the large bulbs protruding out of his upper arm pops. A half-digested Ahgui falls out, covered in slime. It hugs a jellyfish and disappears.

El looks up at the sky, at the gash continuing to widen, and thinks about how Mike magicked away the gash on Steve's face. She remembers the relief of seeing the cut shrink, getting smaller and smaller until there was nothing, only smooth skin.

And El smiles as the sky slowly heals itself.

Now there's just her and Henry. Henry is mostly himself again. Parts of his body bulge out occasionally and his eyes are an odd color, not the original blue.

He glares at her, and El only feels pity.

"I'm leaving," she says, extending her hand, "come with me."

"You're going to close off this space completely?" Henry asks.

"Yes," El confirms.

Henry bristles at that, raises a hand as if he's about to strike. El glares, ready to summon her sword. But he deflates.

"Alright," he says. And El frees this world of them.

El and Henry pop back into existence just as Steve was about to start whaling on Brenner until he figured out a way to get him into wherever the fuck it is they went to. El lets her drum and bell drop to the floor. She straightens up and smiles. She looks confident, at peace.

Steve is so proud and so angry he might burst.

"Here you go," El says, walking past Steve to Billy. She presses something into him. Billy frowns and looks at himself.

"What was that?" he asks. He looks... exactly the same honestly.

"The piece of you," El says.

"So I'm not going to disappear anymore?" Billy asks excitedly.

"No," El says with a smile.

"Did you bring Will? Should we head over to Steve's?" Jonathan asks urgently.

El's face falls. "I did not see Will," she says.

"What do you...what do you mean you didn't see him? Then where is he?" Jonathan asks, a little desperate.

"Either here, or...somewhere totally new," El says to the floor. "I'm sorry."

Jonathan stumbles back. Mike swears loudly and kicks the wall.

Nancy hovers awkwardly, eyes bright, uncertain.

Steve moves to pull Jonathan and Mike into a hug. They melt into him. El looks devastated.

"We'll find him. At least we know he's not there," Steve says furiously. "I think Mike and Lucas had a good thing going with that search spell they originally did. With Nancy and Billy helping, it'll be a breeze. We're going to find him."

"...the tree!" Mike suddenly yells right into Steve's ear. "The spell worked! It was the tree!"

"What?" Steve asks, confused.

"Remember how my search spell went into that weird tree? And we thought the spell was broken?" Mike says hurriedly, rushing over his words, "we were right. We did it right. Will is in that tree. I'll bet my life savings on it."

"Let's go then," Jonathan says, determined. "We're gonna go get him out."

The children don't even bother to untie him before they leave. Brenner sighs and awkwardly gets up. They didn't bind his legs, just his arms. It's going to look like he just got out of a really weird party, but things could have gone worse.

Then One kicks him down to the ground.

For the first time in his life, Brenner feels fear. Real fear. For himself, as one individual. One looms over him with that sharp, killer smile. Invisible hands keep Brenner pinned to the ground. Something in One's eyes swirl.

"Looks like it's just you and me. Papa," One croons.