#causing problems in the valley on purpose

[stardewed-valley]

I accidentally gifted him grass as I was planting it

[vagabond-umlaut]

a battle well begun is the war half won

gojo notices you. you notice gojo. [the boy wants your eyes on him at all times.]

teen!gojo x fem!reader; first meetings; love at first sight[??]; lovesick gojo[??]; mostly fluffy; 1 small discussion on death; reader is in 1st yr whilst gojo is in 3rd yr; gojo has a very... unique definition of romancing in his brain; 'one-sided enemies to lovers' vibes; 2.2k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna

the og saying is smthng else, yeah... ik. i js tweaked it a bit for fic title purposes, hehe. also, pls no comments on how i named this series... i used to hv a love-hate thing with pseudo-force problems in physics during my hs... and i'm srsly out of ideas :D

header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

the sky bleeds green, the first time gojo sees you fight.

it isn't anything enthralling. your movements, far from well-practised. your twisted expression screams unease at best, extreme discomfort at worst— you are definitely not one of the best sorcerers the boy has seen so far—

yet he finds himself utterly transfixed.

feet rooted to the earth as an even brighter green beam cuts through the forest. and the second mountain of cursed energy becomes a few wisps of smoke. your form slumping to the ground not long after—

were the boy a better person at heart, he reckons he would've rushed to help you. but he isn't. not really.

so he keeps to his vantage point. blue eyes narrowing a touch behind his shades, as they watch you slowly heave yourself off the mud, face shifting into a scowl as you trudge towards a tree and plop down with no ceremony in front of it—

a barely-there rustle to his left.

followed by the appearance of the steady simmer of a cursed energy, all too familiar.

"yo, nanamin!" gojo greets, wearing a wide beam the second the said kouhai comes before him, feet carefully and soundlessly treading the rugged terrain— the latter's perpetual glower turns into a momentary flicker of surprise.

but it's vanished before the older boy can comment on it.

nanami's face flattens back to its usual state of annoyed indifference.

"the tournament is already over. yaga-sensei wants us all to report to him in another ten..." the boy trails off. rather abruptly. rather strange for him— aha! so nanamin has finally spotted you in the valley below, huh?— gojo wraps an arm around his kouhai's shoulders, allowing his gaze to return to you as well.

you look pretty cute when you're yawning...

"she's from kyoto, isn't she?"

"yes," the younger boy replies, pinning gojo under a curious look. but it's gone all too soon, all too swiftly like the ones preceding. he drops the arm resting on his shoulder.

gojo lets him. simply pouting in response, before he hums, "do you know her?"

"personally, no," nanami is quick to answer, "but from what i've heard from others... she's somewhat peculiar, if i may say so."

this is honestly one of the best opportunities he will ever get to tease that stoic underclassman of his, even more 'cause since when did he, the nanami kento, start gossipping like old geezers!?— but gojo opts to let this chance pass by.

getting more deets on you is way more important for him.

he doesn't bother to hide his burgeoning interest from his tone. "you know her name by any chance?"

nanami does. and as far as gojo knows, your surname doesn't belong to any of the sorcerer clans. none of the major clans, he is pretty sure of that— you might be from a minor one. or, what his gut feelings are telling him, you're from a non-sorcerer background.

not that it matters to him. he is better than the elders of his clan.

"and which year is she in?"

"first year."

wow. you haven't been in school for more than a few months, but you have already managed to make people talk about yourself, huh? quite impressive, gojo thinks as he steals another glance of you.

this time, no longer yawning. just staring vacantly at your keds—

except those muddy shoes are no longer the object of your attention. it is him— really, so very him— your bright, blinding, blindingly bright gaze, every ounce of it focused on him, as your back straightens. and he spots your shoulders tense, brows furrow—

gojo satoru doesn't run away.

he is one of the strongest duo of jujutsu sorcerers. the boy does not, he cannot, he must not run away... yet that's what he does when his gaze collides with you the first time.

grabbing nanami's hand and wasting not one moment to warp them both to the school rooftop, his kouhai's yelp of surprise goes with an ear-piercing whistle of the winds— gojo releases his hold on the boy, the moment his feet touch the concrete— and turns to him, eyes the calmest he can make them seem.

"tell me everything you know about her— like, right now— or i will tell your dear geto-senpai you were the one who finished his melon pan— quit glaring and start speaking, nanamin!!!"

****

turns out, nanami's heart has a very soft corner for gojo's best friend.

also turns out, the third-year need not wait till the breakfast at 10 am tomorrow, to approach you— you amble into his life, dressed in a tad too washed-out set of pajamas and a terrible hairstyle— gojo reckons an angel too would look the same, when you flip the kitchen lights on, making the clock seem a halo-ey thing behind your head.

you stop. suck in a sharp breath.

the boy swallows the last bit of his mochi. and grins.

"heeey! you're the newbie from kyoto, right? heard a lot 'bout you!"

honestly? it was less of hearing and more of extracting info, but gojo decides not to mention it. you don't have any business knowing that, whatever can be the case— ten painfully slow seconds tick by before you return him a response—

a stiff smile.

an even stiffer bow.

followed by you turning on your heel.

were gojo any slower, you would've slipped from the kitchen without any doubt. but he isn't. which is why not even four seconds can pass before he stills you again, this time not by his tall figure lounging in a terrifyingly dark kitchen but by his fingers grasping your wrist.

thumb pressing into the dangerously frantic pulse beneath your skin.

you try to snatch your hand away. and the boy lets you. only 'cause he was too distracted by the furious warmth of embarrassment creeping into your pretty face— no, it is not for how your skin felt a tad too soft beneath the callouses of his palm...

you're the first one to speak this time. voice so quiet... so firm.

"i don't think i can help you with anything, senpai. please don't bother me this way. let me go... please."

no way in hell is gojo bothering you right now— the indignant retort is the first thing the boy can think of. but he resolves to bite it back.

a stupid argument isn't how he wants his story with you to start. sure, there might and will be those later on, but not now. no. he shoots the second grin of his this night, your way.

"aw, i don't need your help with anything— but yeah, you're right. i'm not supposed to stop you like this... you need to sleep enough before tomorrow's one-on-one duels, don't ya?"

"yeah," you agree easily, eyes drifting to your shoes in a small nod.

gojo's grin widens.

maybe like a cheshire cat.

maybe like a victor cat who finally got the rat right where he wanted: in his paws.

"but you won't be needing a lot of rest if you're already determined to lose the match tomorrow— will you now?"

no, you won't. you obviously won't. gojo has learnt enough about you to predict this much accurately; but maybe not too accurately. given you don't show any sliver of shock or fear in return.

just two eyebrows raised, only to slowly descend to their original level a moment later. your tone feels firmer this time. "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?"

"nothing too serious," the boy hums easily, stuffing his hands into his trousers pockets. why do they start being so cold, so clammy now of all times??— "just that it doesn't take a hell lot of work to maintain an image of being an incompetent idiot, like the one you always seem to be— c'mon," the boy coaxes, making his voice seem extra petulant at noticing still no emotion whatsoever on your face, "you do know what i'm speaking of, don't you?"

in retrospect, maybe... he should have handled you with greater care. you're not only new to your school, but also to the world of sorcery in general. pressing you so hard will hurt you, if not break you entirely— but gojo doesn't let such concerns form in his mind. not even for one whole second.

not when he wants to see something, anything come to life in those bright eyes of yours. he is dying to see a spark in them.

you fold your arms across your chest. brows nearing in a mild scowl. gojo doesn't really understand, but loves the sense of joy the sight is bringing him— "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?" your adorable voice repeats, stonier than before.

he resists the urge to pinch your cheeks. or worse, coo at you.

the boy removes his hands from his pockets. copying your stance as he says, "i cannot really tell you anything, y'know— you're almost as smart as me— i mean, tricking those stinking geezers into believing you're just some weakass, with neither a cursed technique nor good fighting skills, despite the insane amount of cursed energy you've..."

"why did you never curb your cursed energy, by the way?" the query slips past his lips into the space in between: horribly genuine. a fact that doesn't escape your eye, he grasps when you reply— in spite of the not-too-little reluctance marking your features.

"the higher-ups were aware of my high cursed energy before i even knew what the hell it was— it was honestly too late," you state in an awfully matter-of-fact tone, "they would have noticed if i tried to do anything to it."

the 'and they would have harmed me or my family' goes unsaid, but gojo doesn't need to hear it to know it. not entirely intentionally, his voice grows softer with the next question.

"but you tampered with something that no one knew anything of yet— you lied about having no cursed technique, didn't you?"

your hesitation overpowers you this time, however. brows furrowing for a beat at him, before they flatten again. you offer a curt nod.

few more seconds borrowed until you speak again, "but my horrible fighting skills weren't a lie entirely... i really am shit at fighting— you saw that today, did you not?"

he did. he so did—

but that very moment, he also saw just how strong your technique is. surely not as powerful as his. but pretty much capable on its own— it frankly won't be a serious issue even if you keep fighting how you did today—

the sound of a yawn breaks his internal musings.

those big eyes of yours blink up at him. so bleary, so bright. he stifles the urge to pinch your cheeks again. deciding to shoo away the sleep in your eyes by throwing the next ask his brain has cooked up. one he knows, has the biggest 'yes!' ever for its answer—

"you're very scared of dying, aren't you? that's why you always make yourself seem so weak— so much so that you aren't assigned to any mission— don't you?"

— only to question his brain when he notes the easy smile twist your lips. it sharpens at the edges as you answer, "dying's rather easy and uncomplicated, senpai. it doesn't really scare me, except maybe, the pain i might have to suffer— but do you know what's scarier??"

"no," gojo says back quietly. honestly. your smile grows something an awful lot similar to pity— the boy detests it usually... but coming from you, he thinks he will take it.

he will take any look you're willing to give him.

as long as it's you on the other side—

your words reach him quieter than the breeze outside. "what's more terrifying is the worry of what is going to happen to your loved ones, should you just die someday— death is inevitable, but i just want to stave it off for as long as i can. just so i may live with my family... you know what, senpai?" you interrupt yourself abruptly, voice becoming the sharpest in these last fifteen minutes.

a feeble sound escapes the boy.

he isn't sure if it's because of that sincere little hum in your words or if it is the gleam of the moonlight on your face. perhaps, both...

yeah, both— it is rather difficult to distinguish between the beauty of your inner self from that of your outer self— the smile simmers down to a subtle twitch of your lips.

something stutters and stumbles inside gojo's chest.

"i know you see me as nothing more than a coward right now, but i believe... it's better to be a coward and alive, than to be a hero and dead— isn't it, senpai?"

[you're pretty bold, however.

far braver than he could ever deem you to be, the boy muses later to himself with a wry smile, an ice bag on the big toe of his right foot— this poor thing swollen and bruised from how mercilessly the heel of your slipper stamped onto it earlier—

okay, fine— the sorcerer concedes to the imaginary angel perched on his shoulder. something between a grumble and a sigh escaping— he shouldn't have asked you out on a date, in return for him to keep your secrets.

it was really inappropriate, he admits. and gojo likes to see himself as a gentleman... yet, yet, yet.

the need to see that placid mask of yours crack— let it be by a glower and not by the smile, he has never seen on you but knows will be just as lovely as you— that need was too overwhelming then as well...

shushing the angel and fist-bumping his guardian devil, gojo tosses the ice bag away. and falls back into his bed—

a very happy, a touch too giddy grin splitting his face into halves:

you really are a peculiar girl, heh!]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

[omegalomania]

so im sure everyones fully well aware of the magic 8 ball site fob is using to promote a contest to win some tickets to see them in nashville. the little 8ball widget theyve got in browser is also modeled on the physical 8ball that they had in the vip merch packages for tourdust's first leg, which is cool! but of particular note is the way that, to fill out the contest form, you have to pick your favorite fall out boy songs. and the sheer breadth of what is allowed is...interesting? it's not cohesive by any means, but it is really wild the selection of songs they have here because not all of them are fob songs. in fact, quite a few of them aren't.

i went directly to the source code and got a full list of all possible songs that you could input (which you can check for yourself by right-clicking and selecting "view source"). i'm going to list them here for archival purposes, with a few notes/explanations cause some of these are WILD.

there are 187 songs total listed.

bolded songs indicate songs that are demos or never received an official release

italicized songs are songs by other bands

underlined songs indicate songs that are covers

songs with an asterisk beside them (*) indicate they are from patrick's solo catalogue. two asterisks (**) are for pete's.

additional commentary by me will be [in brackets]

20 Dollar Nose Bleed 27 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen) 7-9 Legendary A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me" A Nice Myth [one of the earliest fall out boy demos, found on their first ep, and only the casette version at that] Allie* Alone Together Alpha Dog America's Suitehearts American Beauty/American Psycho (song) American Made Art of Keeping Up Disappearances As Long as I Know I'm Getting Paid* Austin, We Have a Problem Baby Annihilation Bad Side of 25* Bang the Doldrums Beat It Big Hype* Bishops Knife Trick Bob Dylan Bounce [this is a song that came out on then-Decaydance labelmates The Cab's debut record, Whisper War, which patrick produced. he has writing credit and also is credited with background vocals (and also shows up in the music video)] Caffeine Cold Calm Before the Storm Centuries Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends Champion Check Your Phone** Chicago is So Two Years Ago Church City in a Garden Coast (It's Gonna Get Better)* Coffee's for Closers Cryptozoology* Cute Girls* Cyanide** [this is a nothing,nowhere song that pete did some spoken word parts and backing vocals on] Dance Miserable* Dance, Dance Dead on Arrival Dear Future Self (Hands Up) Death Valley Deep Blue Love* [song patrick did for the indie short film "spell"] Demigods Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? Electric Touch [the (in?)famous taylor swift song patrick featured on] Eternal Summer Everybody Wants Somebody* Explode* Fake Out Fame Less than Infamy Favorite Record Fellowship of the Nerd [this is an alternate title for world's not waiting, as far as i can tell] Flu Game Flu Game [yes flu game is listed twice for some reason] Footprints in the Snow [demo from the Llamania ep] Fourth of July From Now on We Are Enemies G.I.N.A.S.F.S. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows) Ghostbusters (I'm Not Afraid) Golden Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy Greed* Grenade Jumper Grow Up and Be Kids [this song is on The Cab's sophomore album Symphony Soldier, which release after they left decaydance. nonetheless, pete does have some writing credits on it. give it a listen and you'll hear for yourself in the first 10 seconds or so] Growing Up Hand Crushed by a Mallet [this is a remix of the 100gecs song of the same name; patrick did some vocals for it] Hand of God Have I Got a Gift for You* [song patrick did for the horror movie black friday] Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet Heartbreak Feels So Good Heaven's Gate Heaven, Iowa Hold Me Like a Grudge Hold Me Tight or Don't Homesick at Space Camp Honorable Mention Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside Hum Hallelujah I Am My Own Muse I Don't Care

I Got Nothing, But You Got Something [this is the one that really perplexes me. there's no evidence of this song actually existing, other than an unverified genius post and an article on a single fandom wiki. it is inexplicably listed here despite its very existence being questionable at best.]

I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me) I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You) I've Been Waiting [this is technically a lil peep song with fall out boy as a feature] I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers Immortals Irresistible It's Hard to Say 'I Do', When I Don't It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love Jet Pack Blues Just One Yesterday Lake Effect Kid (song) Lake Shore Drive [this is a song patrick covered on the piano at wrigley, first night of tourdust] Love from the Other Side Love Will Tear Us Apart Love, Selfish Love* Love, Sex, Death Lullabye Mad at Nothing* Miss Missing You Moving Pictures My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) New Dreams [this is a bonus track on pax am days, a naked rayguns cover] Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner Novocaine Of All the Gin Joints in All the World One of Those Nights [another song from the cab's whisper war. this one has patrick doing vocals very prominently] Open Happiness [this was a huge collaborative piece done for a coca cola commercial. patrick was on it along with big names like cee lo green, janelle monae, and labelmates travie mccoy and brendon urie] Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued Parker Lewis Can't Lose (But I'm Gonna Give It My Best Shot) Past Life [llamania ep] Pavlove People Never Done a Good Thing* Porcelain* Pretty in Punk Rat a Tat Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over Roxanne Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)* San Diego [this is a blink-182 song that patrick did some writing for] Saturday Saturday Night Again* Save Rock and Roll (song) Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here) She's My Winona Short, Fast, and Loud Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers So Good Right Now So Much (For) Stardust (song) So Sick [this is a song patrick has exclusively covered live, so it's a fascinating inclusion] Sober [another blink-182 song patrick did some writing for] Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year Star 67 Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea Sugar, We're Goin Down Summer Days (song) [this is a martin garrix song patrick lent some vocals to] Sunshine Riptide Super Fade Switchblades and Infidelity Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today The "I" In Lie* The (After) Life of the Party The (Shipped) Gold Standard The Carpal Tunnel of Love The Kids Aren't Alright The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years) The Last of the Real Ones The Mighty Fall The Music or the Misery The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes The Phoenix The Pink Seashell The Pros and Cons of Breathing The Take Over, the Breaks Over The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys in a Broken Down Van) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race This City* Thnks fr th Mmrs (song) [for some reason the site specifies song here, despite that not being necessary. the only other times this distinction is relevant is when songs share a title with their albums, i.e. save rock and roll] Thriller Tiffany Blews Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) Uma Thurman Untitled 1 (Colorado Song) Untitled 2 (Jakus Song) [both of these are recently released tttyg era demos] W.A.M.S. We Didn't Start the Fire We Don’t Take Hits, We Write Them [this is a song that famously was only ever performed live. we don't have a studio recording or even a demo, as only live versions exist] We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead) West Coast Smoker What a Catch, Donnie What a Time To Be Alive What's This? When I Made You Cry* Where Did the Party Go Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) Wrong Side of Paradise [llamania ep] XO You're Crashing, But You're No Wave Young and Menace Young Volcanoes Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

in conclusion i have no idea who compiled this list. it doesn't include every song patrick and pete have ever touched (notice the lack of gym class heroes, cobra starship, and hush sound discography) but it has a really weird selection of songs. i mean, blink songs patrick wrote on?? its bizarre.

anyway do you think if we mass request swing me by the rafters they'll have to do it

[egforsakentakes]

Dawg these are our admins 😭

Builderman: Thinks every problem can be solved with a wrench

Doombringer: Thinks every problem can be solved with a hammer

Telamon: Causes problems on purpose

Shedletsky: Uncanny Valley

Dussekkar: The braincell

To elaborate on this:

Builderman is a very technical person. He's good with the framework. He built this world from nothing and he knows it better than he knows his own body. However, this can lead to him becoming dissociated, and when he gets like this, he finds it hard to regard his creations as actual people rather than cute little lego toys. He can make the hard calls easily, but ends up second-guessing himself when he comes back down to earth. And he doesn't always make the right call, which he attributes to his "lack of humanity." He prefers to stay in his mortal form, which is how he got Forsaken in the first place. Even then, he struggles with empathy. He only sees John Doe as a mindless monster, for example, but he can see that Jane has a different opinion, so he dislikes his own perspective intensely. I don't know if I'm making sense here. Oh, and he tends to avoid Guest whenever possible out of guilt.

In contrast, Doombringer has trained himself to have a heart of stone. He does his job quickly and efficiently, without giving himself a chance to think about it. He knows from experience that people will try to appeal to his sense of sympathy to get out of being banned, so he's pushed it down until it's almost faded away completely. It was actually pretty easy to turn him into a Killer.

Telamon always hungered for combat and chaos, so he would occasionally stir up trouble himself for his own entertainment. It bothered his fellow admins intensely - a lot of extra work for them, just because their crazy bird got a little bit bored. However, what he really wanted was attention - everyone else was always so busy, visitors to the Heights were rare. He would not do well in solitary confinement. Causing problems was his way of getting people's attention. Gee, I wonder where I've heard that before! Over time, he grew resentful of the funny little people that seemed to have his friends' full attention. He eventually recognized that people didn't like his attitude and avoided him because of it, but he responded in a horrible way...

When he turned 1× into what they are now, he didn't just put in his hatred; he got rid of any emotion he perceived as "negative" - anger, fear, sadness... even his love of fighting went into the Creation of Hatred. Now, Shedletsky was just like the mortals the other admins cared for so much - silly, happy, whimsical and peaceful. But rather than be happy, they were horrified. Shedletsky was barely half the man he used to be. A lot of them, even Brighteyes, couldn't handle it and pushed him even farther away. They just couldn't see him as the same person anymore. Builderman and Dussekkar stayed, hoping he'd come around - but he was Forsaken before that could happen.

Dussekkar, himself, is definitely the group therapist and the voice of reason. His first instinct is always to protect. He was the one who came up with the concept of respawning (and likely, albeit unintentionally, established himself as the Spawn Two Time worships.) He spends so much time focused on both the mortal world and his fellow admins' well-being, in fact, that he probably lacks self-care.

So yeah... a group of deities that struggle with human nature. Fun.

I don't know any of the others enough to do them sorry.

.

[pandoa]

cheeky kiss!!

when you kiss them on the cheek as a thank you

~headcanons~ ~twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader~

requested by anon~✰

red. all you see is red. his cheeks are red, his ears are red, sevens, even his nose is red at the feeling of your lips pecking his cheek. you didn't think it was even physically possible to be that flushed in the face, but yet here he is doing just that. he stares blankly, unresponsive to anyone and anything as he appears as if a wire had been cut loose from head, malfunctioning like a computer’s blue screen of death. the only difference is that he is a deep shade of scarlet. the spot where you kissed feels like a spark on his skin and he’s simply too frozen to move. please give him a warning of sorts before doing that again. for his own safety. please.

deuce spade, epel felmier, IDIA SHROUD

he acts nonchalant but on the inside he's a muttering mess. there's simply no losing his cool around you, that he will ensure will never happen. he brushes off your kiss with a wave of his hand, acting as if your little action didn't faze him at all. it's no problem, prefect, he'd tell you with a charming smile. a smile you'd think would mean that he didn't mind your gesture. though, if you're observant enough, there's a slight chance you'll get to see the quickening of his heartrate, the fluttering of his stomach, as his heart seems to pump directly through his chest each minute he spent with you. all that is left is for your own blindness to finally see.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS, ace trappola, ruggie bucchi, AZUL ASHENGROTTO, JAMIL VIPER, MALLEUS DRACONIA

he kisses you back. did you really think you could do that without expecting one in return? silly prefect~ things like these should be shared (with only you of course)! the moment he feels your peck on his cheek and an adorable thank you coming from the lips that had just kissed him, he immediately draws close to your face and kisses you back. pulling away, he seems satisfied by the outcome of his actions. oh? (y/n), your cheeks are incredibly red! he laughs as he pokes your face. do you enjoy the tables being turned on you~?

cater diamond, FLOYD LEECH, jade leech, kalim al-asim, VIL SCHOENHEIT, ROOK HUNT, LILIA VANROUGE

he smiles at you. sweet and gentle like a lily of a valley, his smile alone sends waves of enchantment through your mind as the light from the sun causes the grinning eyes of the young man to shine along with the whites of his teeth, practically blinding you. you feel like you're staring at an angel. sevens, maybe even a prince. his reaction is just simply too pure for his own good; you didn't expect your actions to come with such beautiful consequences at all. he continues smiling at you, paying no mind to the way you seem to look up at him in awe, and nods his head with a swift the pleasure is mine to his lips. you can't even tell if he's doing it on purpose anymore. perhaps you'd be better not knowing at all. for your heart's sake, that is.

cater diamond, trey clover, jade leech, azul ashengrotto, KALIM AL-ASIM, VIL SCHOENHEIT, rook hunt, SILVER

he's fine. dandy. marvelous. magnificent. he's totally not blubbering and flailing his arms around like a fish out of water, oh no siree, not today. that's just what friends do to thank each other, right? RIGHT???? he continues to sputter nonsense into the air as you stare, amused, and loses touch of whatever self-awareness he has left. whether he's in denial or just plain dense, the young man wishes to do whatever it takes to not make a fool of himself. in front of you, at that. though, all seems to be for naught as he begins to cough and choke on his own breath attempting to do his best in waving a composed “goodbye” to you, the prefect. he also totally did not fall flat on his poor nose trying to walk away from you once the exchange was over. totally.

DEUCE SPADE, jack howl, EPEL FELMIER, IDIA SHROUD, SEBEK ZIGVOLT

he questions your sanity. bold move of you, prefect. bold move. he's genuinely surprised at your actions, especially when most would avoid being so close to him in that way if it was the last thing they'd do. it's not everyday that you get kissed by a certain prefect. your ability to do whatever your mind had set on causes him to look at you with an expression of both astoundment and amusement. it's refreshing to see someone like you in twisted wonderland, if he were to be honest. aside from that, however, he's completely fine. if you're plan was to fluster the young man, then he wishes you luck for next time.

leona kingscholar, JADE LEECH, MALLEUS DRACONIA

a/n: idk about u but i would need a literal STOOL to reach some of these boys 💀

[kiame-sama]

If the human were to harm someone who was royalty, like on purpose(**cough cough** prince erkir or whatever his name is), would she face any repercussions? Also, are humans seen as above royalty? Does it depend on the country?

Depends on the country and the situation. Many countries have rules and laws still in place to protect humans, several countries are adding laws because there is at least one Human in Twisted Wonderland. Like the Rat, if mistreatment or threats were made in the view of witnesses, even a prince can't get away with harming the Human and the Human will be justified in their retaliation. Basically, so long as the Human has witnesses or can publicly prove mistreatment from one of the monster men, the Human will be excused from facing repercussions as a result of causing harm to that monster. Basically it is like a Panda killing someone; can't hurt the protected species Panda without all hell breaking loose, and if that person started the fight with the Panda that is a them problem, not the Panda's fault.

Humans- for most countries- are basically the same as cats were to Ancient Egyptians. Protected by the law and the people to the point of violence for any sleight made against them.

In the Queendom of Roses, Humans are protected on par with royalty. In the Scalding Sands, Humans are considered defacto royalty by their protected status. In Briar Valley, Humans are mostly glorified pets but are still a protected species. Sunset Savana is in the process of passing laws made to protect Humans even through extreme acts of violence.

It is a dangerous game the poachers play by trying to seize or otherwise harm the Human, but some only see the potential money to be made and feel the risk is worth the reward. This may give insight into how desperate the Fae poachers are who just want their Human children back and want to love and adore the Human even by force. They know the risks and implications of their efforts, but they are heartbroken enough to still try despite it all. Many of these Fae are even from Briar Valley and know Malleus protects the Human. They are desperate enough to still try to face their own crowned prince for a chance to rekindle that love they had for their Human children.

[kedreeva]

I know you've raised several breeds of quail by now- which one has been your favorite? I'm looking into adding one or two quail tractors to my farm to help manage the insect population in the horse pastures as well as roaming them supervised in the barn for the same purpose. (With a hutch in the tack room for the winter and nighttime). I'm just not sure what species to choose! I have quite a few available around me, including button, bobwhite, coturnix, and celadon coturnix.

my "favorite" doesn't really apply to use; my favorite are the bobwhites, but keeping them was a nightmare. In the peafowl pens, the peafowl just ate their eggs. In an indoor pen, they hid their eggs and I was forever finding hidden stashes that were ??? age. In hutches, they seemed miserable and more aggressive. After a lot more reading on research done about it, wild-release captive-born birds pretty much never survive to reproduce, so it was wasted money and time (for the quail, I'm sure the predators in the area didn't mind, nor the outdoor cats).

But for what you want, bobwhites and buttons are not going to really be feasible. Bobwhites you can't really "roam" them even indoors, because you will have a hell of a time catching them if you can even find them- those little shits can squeeze into pinholes you would not BELIEVE if they are trying to hide after landing from a flush, and they're excellent at flying. I let the WHITE snowflake bobwhite I had into the peafowl pen and immediately lost her when she buried herself in a small patch of longer grass along the barn wall within 3 seconds (I did find her eventually but man she was HIDDEN). Buttons are even worse/smaller, and they're not even cold hardy, so you'd have to actually heat them in the winter, not just keep them in a room protected from draft. You'd kind of run into the same problem with other new world quail like valley/gambel's, or blue scale, or montezuma or whatever. They're all still naturally flighty, survival game birds.

The coturnix really aren't that much better, but at least they suck at flying and aren't as flighty to begin with, but you're still likely to be chasing them around the barn to get them back, rather than them returning to a hutch to sleep. The problem with them is they're fairly lazy, and they don't raise their own kids ever (it's just been bred out of them), so you WILL have to buy more or an incubator if you want to replace them, and they are Meat birds and don't tend to live as long as new world quail. But, of all the quail, that would probably be your best bet if your heart is set on quail. They're ravenous, they're meaty and lay eggs daily year round, and they're pretty tame for a game bird. If you like blue eggs, then you can go with the celadons, but they're a lot more work for selection (and I don't mean selection toward standard, I mean selection so their eggs don't go to shit and start breaking/getting malformed due to the ce gene messing with some health stuff if you're not careful about avoiding it- definitely do research before getting them) and more finicky on nutrition, so you may find they don't do as well ranged on pasture as the standard egg layers do.

HOWEVER. If you have the ability to do it, and you're specifically looking for insect population control, you could always go with some bantam chickens instead of quail. Unlike quail that were never bred for it, chickens DO have a "home base" instinct, which means they're unlikely to disappear into the wild, and there's no native wild chicken populations (assuming you aren't in the jungle where chickens originated, but I could be wrong) escapees could interbreed with (unlike with quail, who CAN hybridize with native quail and Cause Problems) if they happened to leave. They can be turned loose into pastures and get all over the place to eat bugs without you having to move a tractor (but can also be tractored if you prefer to place them). And there are some VERY small breeds out there - seramas, OEG, sebrights, d'uccles/booted bantams, d'anvers, etc - and there are some breeds that come in bantam and standard that are still pretty small (silkies, polish, cochins, etc). AND the smaller breeds can have small coops to be roosts overnight, so their housing similarly doesn't need to take up a ton of space.

Alternately alternately, you could have a look at guinea fowl. They're a "game bird" like quail, but they're able to free range like chickens, but they don't necessarily need or even want a coop; they prefer to roost in trees on most farms I've seen. But they're well known for a) readily declining insect populations where they are, particularly ticks and b) being a home alarm system because they WILL scream about anything weird they see, but they're more accurate about it than, say, peafowl, whose definition of "weird" includes things that are very normal. but they're not as small as quail or bantam chickens, and I don't know what the likelihood of absconding is, so you'd have to talk to someone that keeps them- I'm just mentioning them in case you've never heard of them and want to look into it.

So, yeah, Coturnix (any variety) if you're set on quail and you want to let them out of a cage in any capacity that involves returning them to your care, but I'd honestly advise looking into bantam chickens if you're looking for insect control specifically since they have better ranging ability. Or guinea fowl if you find they're your thing.

[classica-meretrix]

Strawberry Fields

pairing: percy jackson x reader genre: fluff content/warnings: use of nicknames, lil bit of joking apollo slander (how dare percy) summary: enjoying the summer sun with perce a/n: I love this one so much

I bit into the fresh strawberry, tossing the top into the grass.

"There was still red on that," Percy protested.

"You didn't even see it! Your eyes are closed."

"Yeah, but always waste them."

"Excuse you!" I exclaimed, removing my hand from his hair. Percy was between my legs, head resting against my stomach as we sat by the strawberry fields, soaking in the warm summer sun. His arms were wrapped around my waist, holding me in place.

He groaned at the loss of contact, nestling his face further into me. "Come back," he pleaded, despite the fact that he had me firmly locked in place.

"You shouldn't be such an asshole," I scolded, though my tone lacked any real anger. I picked up another strawberry, purposely leaving red around the stem. Percy had opened his eyes now, a pout fixed on his face as he stared up at me. I dangled the berry in front of him before tossing it back towards the fields.

He let out an overly dramatic gasp. "How dare you!"

"Maybe next time you'll keep your mouth shut," I teased, repeating my actions, but this time holding the top out to Percy. He bit off the remaining slice of red, humming in approval.

"Thank you, sweet girl."

I ran my hands through his hair again, rewarding him. "No problem."

We sat in silence for a while, absently listening to the excited cheers of campers, or the music of the satyrs. The sky was baby blue, not a cloud in sight. The grass was warm, the light beaming down to cover the valley. It was nice to be able to take it all in, sometimes camp life seemed overwhelming, making it difficult to focus on the little things.

A soft breeze hit my skin, rustling the grass. The shadow of a nearby tree fell on Percy's bare back, little spots of light dancing across his skin. I held out my hand to trace the patterns they left, watching them shrink back as the breeze died down.

I let my hand linger on his skin, feeling the warmth from the summer sun. His shoulder muscles moved at my touch, relaxing further into me. Percy let out a small, contented sigh, placing a kiss against my stomach.

"Praise Apollo," I sighed, closing my eyes as I turned my face to the sun.

"Don't," Percy warned drowsily. "He doesn't need a bigger ego."

I laughed, looking down at him. He looked so cozy, curled up between my legs, shirtless, clad in only his pajama pants. Neither of us had bothered changing this morning, too eager to enjoy our day off lazing around in the fields.

I bit into another strawberry, juice dribbling out of the corner of my mouth. I made a small noise, causing Percy to open his eyes again.

"I got it, sweet girl," he hummed, sitting up just enough to kiss the juice away from my face, before slowly kissing his way back down to my stomach, relaxing against my warm skin.

"If we're not careful I'm gonna have a Percy tan line."

"Good," he mumbled. "All mine."

I laughed, running my fingers through his hair again.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Here’s a crossover fic idea, Pokémon reader gets sent to stardew valley by Arceus for some strange reason, causing them to take a job as a farmer with their Pokémon. However, the reader has to hide their Pokémon from the townsfolk since they don’t know how they would react to their pocket monsters. Though eventually certain townsfolk (the male bachelors and Krobus to be exact) will eventually learn the truth depending on how close they are to the reader. The reader’s Pokemon team consists of Herdier, Gogoat, Mudsdale, Vespiquen, Blaziken and Oinkolonge (the female form).

"Does thou understand thy task?"

"I-I still don't know why I'm even doing this. What's my purpose in coming here? Pokémon don't even exist-"

"Once more I shall reiterate: Achieve Perfection, and come to the Summit. You will find me waiting."

"I..don't know what "perfection" even is! Why did you send me to this place?! Why did you choose-"

The sound of a rooster's loud caw made your eyes snap open, realizing that you were having yet another bizarre dream.

You sighed, waking up and rubbing your eyes, before checking the time.

6:00 AM.

"Oh well..time to make breakfast and get to work." You muttered to yourself, stretching out your limbs before getting out of bed and starting the day.

No time to muddle over your dream.

But you knew for certain that your encounter with the mythical Arceus--the God of all Pokémon itself--was no dream the first time around, as it decided to send you to this strange new land..

A land called Stardew Valley.

You didn't think there was any special reason it chose you. You've just finished schooling in Paldea and had plans to travel the world with your Pokémon. Although apparently god itself decided to fling you into an entirely different world..not one where Ultra Beasts nor Giratina existed.

But rather a world where you quickly realized Pokémon didn't even exist.

It was just you and your team: Herdier, Gogoat, Mudsdale, Vespiquen, Oinkolonge, and Blazkien--your start who's been by your side since your Pokémon journey began back in Hoenn.

You were thankful Arceus sent them along with you, or else you probably would've lost your mind at this point..

The moment you were dropped down into a dilapidated farmland, you quickly realized that you had to make a new home for yourself here...and as you've gotten acquainted with the locals in the nearby town, you also learned how to make some good profits.

Farming wasn't something you expected to do in your journey, but what other option did you have?

Besides, your team adjusted rather well to the roles you've assigned them: such as Oinkolonge sniffing out truffles, Vespiquen and Gogoat ensuring your crops were growing well, Herdier digging up bones and artifacts for you to sell, donate, or gift, Mudsdale helping you get around town on horseback, and Blaziken aiding you with the physical labor and being your bodyguard in the mines.

When you've heard rumors of monsters dwelling there, you assumed Pokémon and became eager to catch some....only to discover that they weren't even Pokémon at all--but rather hostile creatures that had no types or weaknesses you could exploit.

Your Pokedex and pokeballs were basically null and void.

So again, you had to adapt. This time you needed to sharpen up your combat skills, even though Blaziken was able to take them down pretty easily without you ever lifting your sword.

That was one problem taken care of.

The other...involved the villagers who don't know what a "poke-man" is, the majority thinking you were insane for going to the mines. You've become close friends with a lot of the guys over the past year or so, and while they've seen you, Mudsdale, and Herdier together, you never told them you were a Pokémon trainer.

For all they knew, you were just someone from Zuzu City who owned a "unique" dog and horse. They didn't know you came from a world entirely different from theirs.

They were wary of anything new--including yourself--and were especially terrified of the monsters, hearing nothing but rumors and horrible things happening to people in the mines.

What would they think if they discovered you owned "monsters" of your own who had special powers? You had no idea if they'd be scared of you..and everything you've done to build up friendships with them would come crashing down.

But a few hours later, while you and your companions were preoccupied with their outdoor tasks, you failed to notice one of the guys was approaching the farmland.

And you had little time to react to their presence before they spotted one of your Pokémon...

.......

Alex

He just wanted to see if you're up for playing gridball, and instead stumbles upon your Blaziken breaking apart a large stone with their kicks.

It was the most efficient way you could help them train, while at the same time gathering resources to store for later.

"Woah..what the heck are you?!"

Alex's shout scares you, and you throw down your watering can in a panic, running over to explain-

"Hey, hey..no need to freak out." He laughs. "Is this one of those "Pokémon" you were talking about? Why does it look like an oversized chicken?"

"Ziken?"

His face pales. "Did...it just talk to me??"

Seeing no other way to hide this, you eventually tell him more about Pokémon, trying your best to explain the concept of evolution to the jock.

At first it just...flies over his head, but once you draw it out for him, he gets the gist of it.

"So you're saying that..Blaziken started out as this weak and small Torchic, but got stronger through rigorous training?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"Hey, that sounds like me! I used to be a scrawny little kid, too, but look at me now! On the road to going pro!" Alex smiles at your starter. "Looks like you already achieved that yourself. Awesome job." He gives them a fist-bump, and is thrilled when they understand the gesture.

Learning how strong their kicks are inspires him to work on his own leg routine (which he admits to neglecting).

He absolutely wants to invite Blaziken to play gridball with him....as long as they don't get too excited and accidentally scorch the ball with their flames.

If you ever bring Herdier over to his grandparents', them and Dusty will become best buds real fast.

Sam

He randomly decided to stop by your farm to give you a gift--as a way of thanking you for helping him write a new song.

But at first, he doesn't notice anything wrong with your Oinkolonge playing with a truffle crab she dug up.

Until he sees you, pauses, looks back at her, and says "wait do pigs normally look like that?"

Shit.

You thought he wouldn't notice since his head was in the clouds 99% of the time.....but right now it wasn't.

And ofc she's kinda tired to hiding all the time and walks right up to him.

Sam isn't sure where that floral scent came from, although after it began making him sneeze, you had to politely recall Oinkolonge and apologize.

He just looks so bewildered, and stares at your other Pokemon...yet he didn't freak out like you expected.

Maybe Oinkolonge's ability still made him calm, so you took this moment to explain your team to him, reassuring him they're harmless.

"What? Scared? Nah, I was just...they remind me of this one game Vincent started playing."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Junimon. You basically collect these Junimos with different powers and fight other monsters, with some attacks being more effective than others! It's pretty rad."

"....that's literally how it is where I come from. But it's no video game. We coexist with them."

Sam's mind=blown.

He wants to tell Sebastian and Abigail about your Pokémon so SO badly...but your Vespiquen physically blocks him from running/skating away from your farm until he promises you he won't say a word.

He made sure to write it down, of course.

It's something he 100% doesn't wanna forget.

Shane

He overheard that Marnie recently sold you a blue baby chicken, and he wanted to come over and see how the little guy was doing in your coop.

However, upon arrival he stumbles across your chickens being surrounded by Blaziken, the blue one standing on their shoulder.

"Farmer where the fuck did you get a chicken like that?"

"Holy SHIT Shane I didn't know you were there!" You sprint over, seeing the wide-eyed look on his face.

"Please tell me I'm not hallucinating. I haven't even had a drink yet but-"

Before he could start going on a rant and/or leave, you encourage him to stay so you can explain everything about Blaziken and your Pokémon team.

Like Alex, he's not gonna understand a whole lot about it, but he gets the gist of it.

You debate on telling him that Pokémon eggs just "spawn" and walking is the only way to hatch them. No incubators needed.

He has some questions, obviously, but not the ones you expected.

"So Blaziken..just combines "blaze" and "chicken" together?"

"Uh yep. Pretty much."

"....are there other chicken-based Pokémon where you come from?"

Whenever he visits the farm thereon, he'd always check up on Blaziken and the chickens, impressed at how many they were able to raise.

During the winter, they're a personal heater for the babies--although sometimes Shane worries about them accidentally burning the barns/coops down.

He also might forget that your starter isn't 100% chicken, and the one time he tried feeding them hay instead of berries....they weren't impressed.

Your secret stays safe with him, even when he goes to drink.

Elliot

He's definitely written some short stories and poems about the monsters in the mines/skull caverns you talked about, even creating new characters inspired by them!

Oftentimes he silently envies the thrilling adventures you've had and wonders if his life will ever become that exciting (without all the danger and peril of mining, ofc)

While hanging at the saloon, you maaaaaay have let it slip that you owned Pokémon, but you don't remember how much you shared.

Fortunately, it didn't negatively affect your friendship with Elliot, as he comes to your farm to see these creatures for himself.

"Oh my...!"

The first one he meets is Vespiquen, and you SPRINT over to him in a panic, clothes dirty and your face sweaty.

"Elliot! Don't scream! She's just a..uh...ah....a-a really big bee-!"

"Farmer, why would I ever scream in the presence of royalty?"

"..huh...?"

You stand there, utterly dumbfounded as the writer greets your fearsome bug type, treating her like a princess and admiring her growing collecting of honey and flower garden.

Vespiquen, being the haughty and prideful lass she is, eats up his praise...and continues to every time he's visited your farm since.

Okay, so you might've told him too much about your Pokémon team, but you're grateful he didn't get too scared.

Or think you were crazy.

But it's gonna be a bit of a problem when you need Vespiquen to focus on her tasks.

Even if you're visiting his beach house or hanging out in the library together, you could feel her pokeball shaking within your bag, eager to be let out.

Elliot joked that she was simply "buzzing" with excitement, and you just groaned.

Krobus

The shadow monster always dreamed of the day humans and monsters could live in harmony, but fears that it'll only stay that way: as a mere dream.

Well...one winter night that changes when he visits your farm under the cover of darkness, and Blaziken instinctively comes out to protect your land.

The familiar screech of a Shadow Brute has you rushing out the door, sword drawn, only to instantly recognize Krobus--who was about to get Fire Punched into oblivion.

"Blaziken, stop! That's my friend!"

"...blaze?" They stare at you, still holding the poor little monster in their grasp.

"Please, trust me. Don't hurt him."

Krobus is bewildered and scared..yet amazed at the same time.

This human has tamed a monster and can speak to it??? Not to mention you have several of them once he visits your coop and barn.

After you've explained the concept of Pokémon, he grows to understand them better, and forgives Blaziken for attacking him.

Obviously you didn't wanna tell him you used them to fight his "friends" down in the mines.

Initially, he was horrified by the idea of pokeballs being used to "imprison" them, despite you reassuring him that they roam freely almost 24/7.

Although when you're down in the sewers one day, he proposes a rather humorous question.

"Is the inside of a pokeball comfortable for them?"

"It is. It's well-insulated but..wait, don't tell me..." You see the look on his face, the way his eyes went to the pokeballs on your belt. "Did you wanna try going inside one? Thought you despised the idea."

"I did, but..if they help your monsters get around town discreetly, maybe..they could help me. The crocus are blooming nicely this winter, and I've been wanting to pick them myself."

"Sorry Krobus, but they don't work."

"Why not?"

"...because you're not a Pokémon. It'll just bounce right off of you."

"But I am a monster, though???"

"That's...not really how it works-"

"Didn't you say they were discovering new ones all the time in your world?"

Eventually, you entertain the idea of catching Krobus--and he's disappointed when you're correct, as the pokeball bounces off his antenna and almost rolls into the sewer waters.

You get a good laugh out of it, and as embarrassed as he is..it was worth a try.

Sebastian

Another day, another argument with his family...another reason to get out of that house and be as far away from the mountains as possible.

There's no better place for Sebastian to retreat to than your farm.

You two have become close friends at this point, even though you have yet to actually tell him about your Pokémon.

While playing Solarian Chronicles with him, Sam, and Abigail, you'd play the role of a summoner (which was the closest thing to "trainer"), with some of your creatures being inspired by your main team.

Ngl Seb was impressed by your character sheet.

When he decides to come over one random day after that fight in his house, Gogoat is tilling the soil with their hooves--and you're too occupied planting seeds until he says something.

"Woah..I've never seen that kind of goat before."

You jump, rushing over to explain everything....only to see that he doesn't look freaked out by any means. Nor did he seem upset that you kept this a secret.

Then again, he regularly visited the mines and thinks the Skeletons are badass, so you weren't sure why you were freaking out.

In the end, he just has genuine questions about your Pokémon, and you answer them honestly.

In your pokedex, you show him some of the frog-based ones. And he immediately likes Politoed.

You introduce him to Blaziken, who tries gifting him a frozen tear you had stored in a chest, only to pout as it melts and evaporates instantly.

It makes Sebastian laugh a little--and you did a double take bc you've never heard this man laugh before in your life (and you don't deny that it made your heart skip a beat).

"I appreciate the gesture, Blaziken..thanks." He smiles, already feeling better.

As an apology, your starter lights his cigarette with a small flame, and he's stunned.

"Wow..what can't you do?"

Harvey

Like any good town doctor, he just wanted to visit your farm to give you a checkup, knowing how hard you must work to keep things running smoothly.

At your last appointment, you mentioned having "helpers", and he was certain that meant the animals you purchased from Marnie's ranch...

Not "animals" that don't look anything like animals he's seen in the valley or in Zuzu City.

He almost screams at the sight of Vespiquen staring menacingly at him while she's guarding the beehouses, and you rush out of your house before the poor bachelor faints.

"Calm down, Harvey! She's..uh..t-totally harmless!"

"..hh..harmless..? She--it...wh-what exactly is she, [y/n]? What am I looking at right now???" He looks to you with the widest and most terrified eyes, begging for an explanation. "Is she some monster from the mines??"

Try as you might to explain your Pokémon to him (even as you calmly introduce him to the rest of your team), that first impression left his nerves shot for the longest time.

No matter where he goes, Harvey couldn't stop wondering why you owned such bizarre creatures--and even at work, Maru begins to see that he seems extra nervous when around you.

But she assumes he has a crush on you, which is partially true.

As time goes on, though, he starts to understand your team better and acknowledges that despite their looks, they are kind, reliable, and protective partners.

He won't reveal your secret unless you're ready to. But he's impressed you've managed to keep them underwraps for so long.

When he learns Vespiquen's Heal Order is the reason you return from the mines/skull caverns with nary a scratch, he apologizes to her personally for screaming.

As long as you don't tell him you were sent to this world by the Pokémon equivalent of Yoba, you're golden.

[post-punk-revival]

People are often less surprised to find out I’m otherkin than they are to find out that specifically I’m bugkin. Who actually sees themself on any level as a centipede? Because it makes sense for people to identify as cats and wolves and dragons; those are cool, and more essentially, those are sympathetic. Bugs don’t have anything going on inside them. They don’t have interesting intraspecific behavior.

They’re like aliens; they’re practically just living computers; they’re the lurking uncanny monsters in a supernatural horror movie; oh by the way those are also things I see myself as. A cephalopod and a fish, too. This combination isn’t random. Being any these things occupies the same part of my life. Probably comes from the same thing. If it sounds like these are all things that have nothing to do with each other, sorry maybe I just think about this kind of thing disproportionately. I think about Lovecraft’s fiction and movie monsters and Independence Day how I have always, since before I was old enough to form memories, let alone articulate why, hated alien invasion stories, hated stories about the ugly monsters that all must die, hated the "evil other."

I always rooted for the scary aliens and eldritch horrors and uncanny valley shadow-people and city-levelling beasts. I’ve always pointed to the robot character in things for who I related to. I came away depressed from 2001: A Space Odyssey, because for some reason I felt like I’d been told that people like me must be discarded to achieve the next stage of humanity’s evolution. I haven’t always had the words, but I’ve always, somewhere in the back of my mind, known why.

There are movies where things like me dare to appear where we're not supposed to and cause destruction and harm with soft-spoken cold logical brutality. There are books about things like me, terrible in our inscrutability, challenging rational thought with our otherness.

You don't think I have emotions or feel pain, so it's okay to hurt me; yet you think everything I do accidentally is on purpose. You can’t see feelings in me, but you can read malice in my behavior when it suits you. Sometimes you don't give me any credit for intelligence I know I have, and sometimes you expect me to be smarter than I'm capable of and assign blame for simple mistakes that implies calculated evil. No conscience, inner self or intellect, so I’m nothing but intention.

You prefer to pretend I’m not there, but if you can't, then it's my fault for making you notice me.

I’m sensitive to unexpected things that you aren't, which you think it's okay to use to punish me. Or sometimes it’s just because you think the reactions are funny to watch, but if I dare get angry at you for it, the threat of my presence justifies the initial action. And yet at the same time not sensitive enough to things you are, which you think makes me less than you. There’s just something I’m lacking inside me if I can’t feel the same way as you.

You're uncomfortable with my appearance because I don't express things the same way as intelligibly. I can’t meet you where you’re at. I can’t understand or be understood like you can. I can’t keep up. Is it my voice or the way I’m using it, or something about my body that casts an impenetrable screen around me, or something about my mind that can’t find yours in the dark? My thought processes are unfamiliar, so they don't exist to you. If it takes effort to discern, it's not there. Don't ask yourself why there's a problem between you and me. You are not willing to put in the effort of learning how to communicate with me. You expect me to adapt to you instead, even when it’s impossible.

I'm not complex like you, but somehow, unlike you, I'm complicated.

Sometimes I can’t even really tell anymore whether I’m writing from the perspective of bugs, aliens, computers, monsters, or just a very tired autistic person.

[alieinthemorning]

Hello! May I send a request for Twisted Wonderland?

Leona and Malleus specifically, reacting to a Gender Neutral Reader with the power of a empathic healer, meaning they can heal people by taking their injuries and placing them on themselves? They used this power very often due to them hating to see people hurt when they can help?

Thank you!

For Thee, Not for Me [Leona Kingscholar || Malleus Draconia]

Content: Blood and Injury, Reader has a Unique Magic | Signature Spells, Strong Language, Inappropriate Use of Unique Magic | Signature Spells, Can Be Read as Platonic or Romantic, Angst 

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You liked Magishift. It was a fast-paced game that if you weren’t paying close attention to, you'd miss a play that would have the disc in the other team’s possession. You liked it so much that you usually sat in for the Magishift club’s practice. 

Well, that wasn’t the full truth. The reason why you sat in on so many practices, mainly the practice matches, was because you were their self-imposed medic. Most of the time you dealt with injuries that could be resolved with a med-kit, other times you needed to use healing magics.

Then there were days like these,

“Worry not, there’s nothing for you to abide by. Leave all your worries to me. For Me, Not Thee.”

You didn’t even flinch as the deep gash along Epel’s forehead (and other more minor injuries) transferred from him to you. Instead, you immediately placed a hand to your temple, the ever so familiar tingle thrumming against your skin.  

You turned to the student who had caused the injury. “I would say be more careful, but that was obviously on purpose.” Your tone was flat, and your eyes were somewhat narrowed. 

You weren’t really mad, mainly disappointed. You hated when they got like this, when one of them felt like another was doing better, so they needed to sabotage in order to feel better about themselves. 

His lips curled back, obviously surprised that you had the audacity to call him out on his shit. “What the fuck do you know—”

“More than you, obviously.” Leona cut him off as he approached. “If you can’t keep your shit together, then you can go. Don’t need no pussy-footed fuckers on the team.” Despite the vulgarity of his words, his look was something else entirely. Full authority, no room for negotiation. 

That student has lost his position on the team. 

You sighed internally, knowing that this would cause more problems for you in the long run. 

Then, after checking on you and Epel (and making sure Epel thanked you), Leona had practice continue as normal. While you just sat there healing your head wound. Once practice was over, you were escorted back to your dorm by Ruggie. You also found yourself in his company for the next two weeks.

You had to continuously bite your cheek to keep yourself from blurting out your appreciation, not only for him, but his Dorm Leader. 

On the days without Magshift practice, you found yourself under a large tree watching Sebek and Silver spar with their batons. You found their dedication to their Lord admirable, that even in a school of adolescents that held no worthy flame to the Prince of Briar Valley that they would so diligently practice the sword. 

However, yet again, you had another reason for watching them so closely.  

Because no matter how quick and calculated their strikes may be, accidents are always along the horizon. 

He didn’t make a sound, just dropped to one knee as he clutched his side. You were at his side in mere moments. 

“Worry not, there’s nothing for you to abide by. Leave all your worries to me. For Me, Not Thee.”

This time you did flinch as the injury transferred. You weren’t fully healed from Epel’s injury, alongside others, and taking a new, serious one so soon really affected you. You slammed your eyes shut and clapped a hand over your mouth, bile threatening its way up your throat. Thankfully, with a pair of hands to steady your swaying body and another to rub soothing circles along your back, you were able to weather that storm. 

However, even though you had begun the healing process, you had found yourself in a bit of a bind.

“Ah. I’ll have to ask a favor of the two of you.” You hated to do this, but you knew that you were in bad condition. “Could you help me back to my dorm?”

“Of course.” Silver said as he helped you to your feet, then slung your arm over his shoulders. 

Sebek was hovering at your other side, biting his lip harshly.

You smiled, “If you keep biting your lip like that, I’ll have to take that injury too, you know.” He stopped, but he was still frowning deeply. 

Ah. 

Out of all the people who hated when you used your Unique Magic like this, Sebek was one of your most vocal. So this blunder must really be hurting him. 

You frowned as well.

Oh, if only you could take away negative emotions as well. 

The return to your room was quiet and filled with plenty of quick glances. The long stares had died down after your second year. You had been dubbed “Healer” by your peers, and even the freshmen knew of you. Someone to go to if you were in danger. 

Once they had made sure you were fine and settled, they set to leave.

Or rather, Silver did. Sebek lingered at your bedside, working at his lower lip again. You sent Silver off, then waited for Sebek. 

He didn’t have much to say. “You cannot keep pushing yourself like this.” His voice was soft, yet firm. “When you fall, who attends to you?” 

You smiled, but didn’t respond. He had heard your answer before.

“As long as everyone else is safe” then I don’t matter.

You should have seen this coming. You knew that despite your new-found companionship, that there would always be someone lurking in the shadows. 

So when the sudden shove at your back forced you forward, you were only mildly surprised. 

Your brain had already begun listing all the injuries you could get from being pushed down the stairs, reacting immediately when one of many was obtained. 

You didn’t scream, just grunted as you tumbled to the landing, biting your lip as the splitting headache made its way between your eyes. 

The both of you were quiet. You focused on healing and him focused on your silent, unmoving body. Then there was a flash of green, a short shriek then nothing again because you had passed out at that point.

Although, one last thought you had before you relinquish your consciousness was: 

“I’m gonna punch the shit outta that fucker once I’m in the clear.”

World traveled fast at Night Raven College. Especially when he was hidden in what he would consider to be plain sight. And regardless of whispers, his ears were sharper than most. 

He didn’t even wait for them to leave before he emerged from his resting place and set out to find you. His pace quickened as more and more information slipped from loose lips. You had healed two major injuries within the past week, which meant you weren’t in the best shape. But what was worse, is that you were shoved down a flight of stairs.

By one of his own.

He was going to hold him, but not until after he checked on you.

“Why are you here.” He snarled upon arrival. 

Of all the people who could have been at your bedside, this was the one he was least expecting. 

The Horned-Bastard himself, Malleus fucking Draconia.

The lizard-fucker turned to face him, head slightly tilted to the side with a small grin. “Fixing another one of your messes, it seems.” 

Leona growled, taking a threatening step forward. Malleus’ grin grew wider. 

“If either of you start, I swear I will never heal you again.” You croaked from the bed, forcing yourself upright. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Leona groaned, wiping a hand down his face. He crossed the room, ignoring the horned-bastard. “Didn’t even lay hands on’em, and you’re already thinking about healing—you’re the one in bed, dumbass.” 

You sniffled. “It’s just a White Cold.” He rolled his eyes. Of course, you would get sick from over healing yourself. “I’ve already taken the medicine for it, so I should be fine in a day or two.” You smiled at him—the both of them. “Thanks for checking in on me, though.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, just turned his back on you. “Why do I even bother…”

“Oh, if you’re gonna go now, can I ask you to do me a favor, Leona?” His ears perked up at that, you rarely asked for anything. “Could you handle the one from before? The pussy-footed fucker?”

“Snrk!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the laugh. He was not expecting you to say that. Once he regained himself, he answered. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I was already headed that way.” As much as he disliked leaving you with Draconia, he had to make sure business was handled. 

And the business was handled well. 

A hand on the back of the neck. Magic cracking down the back.

“I am hunger. I am thirst. I am what robs you of tomorrow. King’s Roar.” 

“One wrong step, and I’ll put your remains in an hourglass.” Was the only thing he said to him before he let the pussy-footed fucker loose.

Someone removed themselves from the shadows with a sigh. “I’m sure you’re gonna ask me to keep an eye on him, right?”

“No. I want you to keep an eye on the Healer. Make friends.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ll make sure to compensate you.” 

“Oh? Shishishi…aye, aye, sir!” Ruggie gave him a two finger salute before making his exit. 

Leona sighed. “I’m tired…”

Request complete! Thank you for requesting!

This was actually really fun to write, especially since I pushed myself to write at least 1,000 words. Well I actually wrote 1.5K!

Also please note that I call Spell Drive "Magishift" and I literally refuse to call it anything else.

This also very quickly became a Leona-centric thing (and also Sebek??? he had his little moment) instead of Leona and Malleus, but hey he at least showed up lmao.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist[Leona] | Masterlist[Malleus]

[theskirmisher]

scaramouche headcanons. — ➴ "identity."

this is specifically for roleplay purposes. things are subject to change depending on who I interact with and what they want from me.

please read my account info & rp rules.

Kabukimono; mentally a child.

As stated within the canon, Kabukimono is a fledgling barely out of the nest. This is where his life begins and where he faces his first hardships. He is gentle and kind with a spark of hope for the future. He craves companionship and fears being left alone.

He is uncertain about himself and humanity. He has to learn how to mimic humans or else they will shun him. As a puppet, he gives off an uncanny valley feeling, for he resembles humans but is not one at all.

He wears a white and purple kariginu outfit and a lilac katsugi veil.

Kunikuzushi; mentally a teenager.

Kunikuzushi is the name he gave himself after he endures all three of his betrayals and begins to wander teyvat; more specifically, Inazuma. I don't remember the details, but he joins a gang and learns to fight. This is where his more harsh personality begins to surface.

This is where he begins to despise humanity. He remains just as insecure as before, but instead of seeking out connections to fill in for his empty chest, he turns to violence and cruelty. He specializes in using a katana and other types of swords. He does not have an elemental ability yet.

He wears a black and red kariginu outfit and a brown, wooden kasa hat.

The Balladeer; as a young adult.

This is the point where Dottore officially took him in after secretly instigating the betrayals he faced. The Balladeer is put through torturing experiments before finally given an Electro Delusion and joining the Fatui Harbingers.

He is void of joy and is consumed by anger towards the world. He wishes to become a blank slate for the Electro Gnosis and become a God in order to satiate his own need to be loved. He equates worship as love that can not be challenged or lost; one-sided and solely his own.

He wears a short outfit that resembles a hakama. Black, red, and purple in color. He wears an expensive looking kasa hat.

Wanderer; now as a later adult.

After being defeated as Shouki No Kami, Wanderer has reached a new height in his life and was given an Anemo Vision. He treats his Vision as a representation of his own (nonexistent) heart, proof that he exists in this world as a person.

Wanderer still has an attitude, but he has softened since his days of being a Fatui Harbinger. He prefers keeping to himself, yet is puzzled that despite his aloof nature, people follow him around like cockroaches. He attends the Akademiya and serves Nahida.

Similar outfit as Balladeer, but less extravagant and far more blues and whites with a hint of gold.

General Headcanons; for all.

His age ranges cannot be argued.

This is because I would feel uncomfortable "aging up" his character when this is how I personally view him. You are allowed to disagree with these interpretations, but please do not try to make me change it just to suit your needs.

He suffers from self-objectification.

As a puppet who compares himself to humans, there are many times when he feels less of a person and more as an object. He doesn't have human organs, after all, and his blood is solely meant to blend in with humanity. All stages of his life suffer from this, but he faces this problem the most as The Balladeer.

His hair and eyes are indigo.

I feel the need to clarify this since I know some people view his hair to either be blue or purple. Personally, I see him as indigo, and this is the color I will describe his hair and eyes as.

He has an attitude.

Even as Kabukimono, Scara has always been blunt in nature. He says what he thinks first since he does not fully understand social norms or "how to read the room" until later in life. Nevertheless, he eventually learns with time to abide by societal expectations in behavior. Especially to manipulate how people perceive him as Balladeer.

Dottore caused his puppet joints to fade.

It is canon that The Doctor is one of the only people who know how to fix or repair him. Kabukimono and Kunikuzushi both have their puppet joints, but after being "repaired" and experimented on by Dottore, the joints eventually smoothed out to appear more human. Remember, this is a headcanon and personal interpretation.

Other headcanons will be added in the future.

I dont know what else to add right now. Thank you for reading.

[owletstarlet]

patron saint of the lost causes (2/2)

“You can stop looking at him like that.” Taki’s voice is frank, but not unkind. Katsumi could not be less in the mood for whatever the hell kind of conversation this is about to be. “Like what,” he replies anyhow. “Like you broke his best friend."

ao3 link | part 1

Given every piece of information Katsumi knows or can infer about Tanuma Kaname, it is the most on-brand thing in the world right now for him to be looking both embarrassed and apologetic while also lying in a goddamned hospital bed. Still very much connected, he might add, to all the equipment necessary to prevent his own body from cooking up his brain and all his organs. Doesn’t mean it isn’t weird. And bad. Very weird and very bad.

They’re allowed in to see him in groups of no more than three at a time, and for no more than ten minutes each. He’d been awake and asking about them, but his fever’s still high if no longer imminently lethal, and he’s apparently still groggy from coming off the tail end of some sedative they’d pumped into him hours ago to keep him from shivering while they’d worked to combat said fever. He’s with Natsume, and they’re the first ones in, and that really, truly and honestly blows. Because Natsume’s silent and tense beside him, because Tanuma’s somehow managing to both look like a ghost and also like he really wouldn’t mind ghosthood all that much, eyes that he can’t even keep open all the way fixed on his lap. At least if Nishimura had come in before him, he’d have had a handful of stupid jokes up his sleeve.

Doesn’t help, obviously, that they’ve seemingly got him hooked up to the complete goddamn works here: the IV drip, the cords of the vitals monitors snaking out from the rumpled neck of the yukata-type gown they’ve got him in. The low beeping from the absolute behemoth of the monitor itself beside the bed that’s got to be 15 years old at least, blocky numbers and jagged lines, hills and valleys in neon colors scrolling the tiny black screen. The chunky wired clip on his finger that Katsumi vaguely recognizes from TV but cannot for the life of him remember its purpose. And to cap it all off, the oxygen tube thing—cannula?—under his nose (which, what the hell, can he not even breathe properly right now). Like it’s all been pulled from some film set for dramatic flair. Maybe less sleek, with more underfunded-isekai-emergency-room vibes, but if anything that just piles on the nightmare fuel.

And he looks embarrassed about it. The fuck.

For few vastly uncomfortable seconds, nobody says anything at all. He’d thought Natsume would take the reins on this, but he doesn’t even look to see what the holdup is, because Katsumi himself is still mucking through what there even is to say.  No matter that he’s had hours to prepare, even practiced it once or twice in the bathroom mirror like an absolute lunatic, but he’s also been roundly warned by the others that any variation of why the fuck didn’t you say anything was off limits.  

It’s Tanuma who eventually speaks first. “I—“

“Save it,” is the first thing out of Katsumi’s mouth, because of course it is. Tanuma winces, and Natsume promptly elbows Katsumi in the ribs. Off to a great start. “We already know,” he amends. “Your dad told us you probably didn’t realize.”

Tanuma looks up, then. And yes, his gaze is maybe still little drug-hazed, but Katsumi’s still not sure how to feel about the look on his face, like Katsumi’s a math problem he can’t quite work out. He nods, slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The room isn’t even a room, really, just one cramped, curtained-off corner of a space containing three other beds. There’s a single, worn chair wedged in beside the bed, and Natsume drops into it now, now at Tanuma’s eye level. He reaches out, and Katsumi doesn’t miss the split half-second where his hand falters midair before coming to rest carefully on Tanuma’s forearm, fingertips just skimming the IV tube taped there.

“Sensei checked around,” Natsume tells him, tone gentle but serious. Huh. Little abrupt, not the first thing Katsumi would’ve expected out of his mouth here. “He said there wasn’t anything he could find, but. You weren’t attacked, were you?”

Tanuma frowns, like he wasn’t immediately expecting the question either, but then something seems to click behind his eyes. “I don’t think so?” he starts, and purses his lips like he’s thinking. His words are lower and slower than normal, but otherwise he doesn’t actually seem all that out of it, just exhausted. “I don’t remember that much. But I think it’d feel…different, than this.”

Something in the set of Natsume’s shoulders loosens, just barely. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he says, after a moment of consideration. And Katsumi doesn’t mean to snort, it just sort of comes out, but he immediately feels like a dick when Tanuma’s mouth twists and he drops his gaze again. But before he can backpedal on that, Natsume shoots him a look that could strip paint right off a wall, and he figures that shutting the fuck up is the best course of action.

But to be perfectly fair to himself, the guy can’t even sit up on his own without the raised end of the bed, and his face is the same eggshell color as the cheap sheets tucked around him, wherever it isn’t blotched up from his fever of fucking 39.

“…I mean,” Tanuma starts again, “not great or anything, but. Headache’s mostly gone, and,” he turns his head a little to indicate the blue pillow-like object under his head that Katsumi is only just realizing is an extra large jelly ice pack thing. “These are really cold but they’re helping a lot. There’s some more under my arms and legs.” He raises his shoulder a bit, and Katsumi notices the slight lumpiness of the yukata on the sides of his chest that must be more ice packs tucked under his armpits.

Natsume lets out a breath. “That’s good,” he says, and his smile seems much less forced now, softer. “Before you’re discharged, we’ll make sure nothing was out there, so. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t,” Tanuma says, and he’s clearly picked up on the undercurrent of fear in Natsume’s questions. “Thank you.”

It’s not like it’s a bad thing to see Natsume willing to actually feel his goddamn feelings in front of other people, it’s a definite improvement over the vapid not-quite-smiles and the empty eyes he and his classmates called creepy when they were kids. But this, he can definitively say, also sucks. Nishimura had briefly mentioned something about Natsume having been pretty shaken up when Kitamoto had been hospitalized for some minor accident a few months back, but it seems to go deeper than that, here. As if he’d implicitly blame himself for any and all nasty youkai shit in this apparently nasty-youkai-shit-infested-town. When he wasn’t even there. And, granted, Natsume might not respond well to it coming from Katsumi, but it is dumb, and Natsume should know that he is in fact being dumb.

The thought of said nasty youkai shit makes Katsumi remember to fish the little wood talisman out of his pocket. Maybe it’s not the time to bring it up, when Natsume’s freaked out enough as it is, but they’re going to be kicked out of here in about seven minutes. Some ENT had pried it out of Tanuma’s fingers in the back of the ambulance when they were trying to get an IV into his arm, and had passed it over to Katsumi. He found out soon enough that Taki had made the thing, using some obscure old exorcism texts from her grandfather’s library, which he’d honestly found pretty impressive until Sensei had had to ruin it by noting that the flimsy thing would have about the same repellent power against an average youkai that a squirt gun might have on a bear. Which, at least, made it seem it less likely that he’d been clinging to it because he really thought something was going to attack them. But when Katsumi had tried to return it to Taki, she’d given him a maddeningly incomprehensible look and just said, “Give it to him yourself.”

So he is. Hope she’s happy, because he for one feels some heavy sort of way about it that he does not have the energy to parse out right now.

“You dropped something,” he says, because that’s simpler than the truth. There’s not really room to squeeze himself in near Natsume at the bedside, and the other side’s got that mammoth monitor machine taking up most of the narrow space, so he just sort of hovers behind Natsume somewhere beside Tanuma’s legs. He reaches over, drops the talisman lightly on his knee.

Tanuma blinks down at it, slowly raises his hand to place overtop of it. The movement is awkward and slow, between the clip on the finger of this hand and the gel pack wedged under his arm, but his remaining fingers close around it. He looks up at Katsumi, eyes wide. “You—“

“It’s whatever,” he says with a shrug, before Tanuma can even get the words out. He’s not in the mood to be thanked right now. “It, uh. Looked pretty important, though. You were squeezing it damn tight enough.”

That earns him a sharp over-the-shoulder look from Natsume, a don’t-you-fucking-tease-him-or-so-help-me-god face if ever Katsumi saw it.

Katsumi ignores him. That wasn’t the point. Because despite the fact that Sensei had patrolled the area, and that it made the most sense that he’d been clinging to the talisman out of some delirious attempt at self-soothing, if there was any chance he’d been desperate to grab for it because it was better than nothing at all if something was hanging around, that’d be pretty damn good information to have before any of them have to walk that road again. Maybe seeing it would jog his memory.

Apparently not, though. He manages, awkwardly, to flip the thing over so it rests in his palm, even though it jostles the clip just enough to elicit a few abrupt pi-pi-pis  from the machine beside him. “All I really remember,” he says, at length, “is leaving home, then Lawson, kind of, and then, ah.” His eyes flick upwards, for the barest second, not even making it up to Katsumi’s eyes before his gaze drops right back down like a stone.

“What?”

Tanuma’s fingers close tight as they’re able around the talisman, and he looks so thoroughly miserable that Katsumi’s starting to be sorry he asked.

“I remember throwing up on you,” he mutters.

And that startles a chuckle out of Katsumi. It’s a sharp, awkward sound in the hush of the room. But it feels good, like a crack forming some gigantic dam that barely fits in his chest anymore. Another follows.

Natsume glares. 

And okay, yes, it’s got to be a dick move to be laughing right now. The splotchy bits of Tanuma’s face have grown even splotchier as he stares down at his talisman, and the heart monitor’s tempo has kicked up a bit.

“Seriously?” Katsumi manages, catching his breath, before Natsume gets the chance to declare war here. “That’s the part you remember.” The guy’s subconscious must really have it out for him, because Tanuma legitimately looks like he’s about to faint.

And that’s no good, either.

“Look,” he starts, and drops down to perch awkwardly on the bedside edge somewhere near Tanuma’s shin, opposite Natsume. At least like this he’s not looming like a creep over the foot of the bed anymore. “For life-threatening situations? Free pass. And I got some new threads out of it anyways,” he says, plucking at the sleeve of his borrowed shirt. “Timeless classics.”

They actually look fine, some nondescript green button down and dark chinos belonging to Shigeru-san, though when he’d thrown them on this morning he’d barely even registered what he was wearing anyhow. Nishimura, Kitamoto and Taki are all wearing the same clothes they’d worn yesterday, still a little damp from being hastily laundered and hung to dry indoors overnight, but Katsumi’s things are currently still soaking in a bucket of oxygen cleaner on the Fujiwaras’ veranda, and Natsume’s clothes are all a size too small for him.

“It’s not your fault for getting sick,” Natsume tells him, gentle but direct, when Tanuma doesn’t immediately respond. Which is exactly what Katsumi just said. But whatever. Tanuma huffs out through his nose, a soft halting sound that makes an odd little whistle over the top of the cannula, and finally looks up at Katsumi. There’s something taut behind his eyes, but least he looks marginally less like wants to evaporate into the goddamn ether anymore.

“I, just.” He shifts in his seat a little, swallows, but keeps talking. “This all must’ve been…a lot, for you, so. I’m sorry. Thanks for getting help.”

“‘Course.” Katsumi shrugs, still not really sold on the idea of being thanked right now. “I’m not a total monster.”

That, at least, elicits some sorry little suggestion of a smile from him. He’ll take it.

“But, with your dad saying you didn’t realize, though,” he starts, before he can think better of the question. “Has this happened before?”

Natsume looks a little wary, as though he’s ready to shut this conversation right down if need be—which, fair enough—but is also watching Tanuma like he isn’t exactly not curious, either.

But Tanuma says, “Sort of?” and cocks his head like he’s trying to remember. “In third or fourth grade, maybe. There was this school clean-up event just before the summer break, and…I don’t exactly remember what happened, but I guess the teachers realized when they did a head count at lunch.” He shakes his head a little. “Anyways. That town was…we didn’t live there long.”

Katsumi’s not at all sure what to make of that last bit, though Natsume looks perturbed by it. But something’s not quite adding up regardless. “Wait,” he says, frowning, “if this was a school clean-up, wouldn’t you all have been working in pairs or groups or something?”

Tanuma shrugs. “I guess?”

“You got ditched,” Katsumi concludes, flatly. “That’s fucked up.”

“…I mean…” He’s starting to look uncomfortable again, his fingers picking at the edges of the talisman. “I couldn’t actually attend school there all that often, so. I didn’t really know many people’s names, or anything. It’s okay, really.”

No, it’s fucked up, he wants to say, only to remember the other person in the room right now. Natsume doesn’t look particularly happy to hear this story, but he doesn’t look surprised, either. Like he very much gets it. And Katsumi’s acutely aware that he himself the last person who should have anything to say about any of this at all.

And the kicker is, yeah, he knows how cruel and ugly kids can be to each other, because god knows Katsumi was, but this doesn’t even sound like that. Tanuma had recounted it as though he were as good as a stranger to his classmates, and vice versa.

Katsumi glances at the talisman again, at the marker ink that’s gone splotchy in the corners visible under pale fingertips. And, unwillingly, he thinks of some sickly nine-year-old, lying lost behind some tree or tool shed, nobody looking for him at all.

A long buzz from his pocket punctuates the silence. Then another. Katsumi doesn’t need to fish his phone out to know it’s Mom. Again.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, when two pairs of eyes flick towards him. “I’ll get it later.”

He’s been putting off actually speaking to her; he knows Touko-san called her sometime yesterday and since then he’s mostly just been sending her messages to check in and vaguely reassure her. He’ll have to talk to her soon, but he likes to think he’s got enough dignity left in him to not want that to happen anywhere remotely near any of these guys. The thought makes something itch in his throat.

“You know,” Tanuma starts, after a moment, voice quiet but clear. “It really is okay for you to go.”

“Nah.” Katsumi shrugs. “Like I said. Nothing better to do back home either. Except get nagged about holiday homework.”

Tanuma nods, once. He doesn’t necessarily look unhappy, but there’s a thread of unease in his voice. “You’re welcome to stay,” he says, “but…you’re here for, what, five more days? Six? And, ah.” He casts a glance at that giant beeping machine beside him, then around the cramped room that doesn’t even have a window or real walls. And he looks so tired. “I’ll be here. And then on bedrest when I’m out, they said, so…”

Katsumi frowns. “…so?” he echoes. “Is this about the cleaning? ‘Cause fuck the cleaning.”

Tanuma just blinks, nonplussed, and Natsume sighs and rubs vaguely at his temple like he’s got a headache coming on. “Shibata,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to it.

Katsumi rolls his eyes. “I meant, it’s not your problem right now.”

“But it shouldn’t just be yours, either,” Tanuma says, gaze drifting back to that damned machine again. “You’re here because I asked, and now there’ll be even more, with less time.”

This is starting to feel like a stupid conversation to Katsumi, because he has the suspicion that even Tanuma’s dad wouldn’t be all that bothered right now about offending someone’s dead great-great-aunt on Obon with a dusty altar or two. So it’s probably for the best that Natsume speaks up before Katsumi has the chance to.

“He is right that you don’t need to worry about it right now,” Natsume tells him. “But, there’s still plenty of time, too. And Sensei and I can try and find some extra hands, too.”

“Extra…” Tanuma frowns. “Would that work, though?”

Katsumi’s not a hundred percent on the specifics here, but he’d heard in passing from Sensei that most of the local youkai population weren’t too keen on hanging out around Yatsuhara Temple. Natsume’s finger drums lightly on the bedrail, like he’s considering, and then there’s a flash of…something…in his eyes, something steely enough to maybe just unnerve your run-of-the-mill forest-dwelling flesh-eating folkloric monster.

It’ll be fine.

“Either way, it’s just an extra day or so, right? We’ll get it done,” Natsume says, decisively.

“Yeah, we spent a lot of the first couple days just kind of fucking around, anyhow,” Katsumi adds. It’s not all that true—there had been a little downtime in the evenings, some idle rounds of shogi on the veranda, placing bets against each other on pocket change and cheap snacks, but they’d all more or less collapsed into the lumpy borrowed futons by 10PM each night. It still sounds like a helpful thing to say. Maybe. “We’ll just hustle a bit. It’s all good.”

Tanuma looks torn. “I…thank you. Really. But, I’m the one that actually lives there.” His expression settles on a rueful smile. “And I couldn’t even walk to the store, so. I’m sorry.”

Okay, yeah, no, this is stupid, actually.

Katsumi huffs. “Yeah, all according to your big evil master plan, huh. Luring us all here just to do all the heavy lifting.”

Natsume’s head snaps up sharply at that, and Tanuma just stares, but Katsumi plows on.

“Because that’s how chronic illness works, right? If you can’t just guess and pinpoint all its exact fucking whims day to day, which, by the way, are caused by invisible invisible monsters half the time anyways, then you’re just a super inconsiderate guy, huh. Oh, and dramatic. ‘Cause that’s totally what we’ve all been sitting out there thinking.”

He’s met with silence, from both of them. Which is, basically, the worst possible reaction to receive when you’ve just been on the verge of shouting at someone stuck in a hospital bed. Natsume had looked, at first, reflexively ready to bite right back, but instead he’s watching Tanuma, like he’s holding his breath. They both are.

It’s not a term he’s given much thought to before. Ever, really. Until earlier, hearing Tanuma’s father’s half of a hushed, somber call with some relative or another from the lobby (“…symptoms of heatstroke, but the chronic illness had exacerbated the situation, so at the moment, he’s…”).

Katsumi wonders, vaguely, how they’ve must’ve had him classified in his charts over the years. Generalized Youkai Shenanigan Disorder must be a real head-scratcher to the medical community at large.

But he looks normal, is the thing. A bit underslept, sure. And lugging heavy boxes around all day gets him winded a little faster than the others. And he takes more care than the rest of them to stop for water, but that’s just being responsible. It wasn’t like he hadn’t kept up, hadn’t been fine.

Katsumi had only got the most cursory of explanations, back when they’d first met. That he’d been sick as a kid a lot, moved around often because of it, that it had gotten a lot better when he’d moved here, met Natsume. And he looks so shockingly ordinary that Katsumi would’ve never known.

And Katsumi doesn’t know if anything really was out there in that dusty field with them. Doesn’t think it matters, ultimately.

Maybe it is better these days. And maybe it’s pointless to even speculate, if he hasn’t lived it. But it sure as hell sounds to Katsumi like living with a landmine buried in your skin. Doesn’t matter how deep down it’s sunk, how quiet it seems. Not like it’s not there.  

Nobody’s said anything, still. Natsume’s watching Tanuma. Tanuma’s watching his own lap.

“Am I kicked out?” Katsumi asks, arms folding.

“No.”

Katsumi barely hears him; his voice sounds half-stuck and dried-up. But then Tanuma looks up, fully, and his eyes are wet.

Shit.

“I mean.” He clears his throat. It doesn’t do much. “Soon? But. Not by me.” He seems to realize about the tears, then, and absently reaches up to scrub at his eyes.

Which, naturally, knocks the mysterious beeping finger clip right off, sending it flying right over the side of the bed.

The behemoth next to the bed immediately starts pi-pi-pi-ing, urgent and shrill, and Katsumi swears, swooping down to snag the little clip by the wire now dangling over the bedrail, and slides it back onto Tanuma’s finger. He doesn’t have a clue if it’s on backwards or not, and is only pretty sure that it had been on his index finger before, but at the very least the noise dies down. And he can’t hear anybody rushing in to check if they’ve killed someone, for the moment.

“Sorry,” Tanuma murmurs, while Natsume readjusts the cannula thing he’d knocked a little crooked. The tube’s kind of misty now, just under his nose, and Katsumi briefly wonders what happens if that thing gets too clogged up with snot to work properly.

Because Katsumi had to go and run his mouth.

Natsume fishes out the talisman from where it’s fallen into the sheets, and presses it back into Tanuma’s palm. “We came to help,” he tells him, snatching a corner of the bedsheet to help mop up his cheeks before he can forget again about the clip, or jostle the IV port or gel packs. “So let us. And rest, okay?”

“Yeah,” Katsumi mutters. “That.” He feels like he’s hovering, blunt and mean and too big for his own skin for this tiny-ass non-room. Glances at his watch, scuffs his heel on the floor. “It’s almost time. You know Nishimura’s probably gonna deck me for making you cry.”

Katsumi can’t immediately clock the sharp little hiccup as laughter. Sounds a little more like an injured corgi to him, but when he looks at Tanuma, there’s a little waver in the set of his mouth, and his shoulders have relaxed, just a bit.

Natsume’s expression is dry—you’d have brought it on yourself if he does—but he seems mollified, his hand having found its careful way back onto Tanuma’s arm like it was coming back home.

Tanuma looks up. His eyes are still red-rimmed, but that desolate look has receded somewhat. “You didn’t—“ he starts.

“I mean, I did,” Katsumi counters.

Tanuma smushes his lips together, tries again. “I’m okay.”

Katsumi raises an eyebrow, makes a vague sweep of the arm around the terrible little space, all the equipment crammed around and connected to him. “Yup. Clearly.” 

Tanuma sighs, just looks at him for a moment. And maybe it’s not an improvement, Katsumi thinks, if Tanuma’s circling back to just finding him exhausting to talk to, but then that’s no worse than yesterday before all this shit began.

“Thank you,” Tanuma tells him, finally. His voice is soft but sure.

Katsumi shrugs. Always down to bully a hospital patient. I’m your guy.

But the words dig in, stick in place like nettles. And it hurts, kind of, a nagging sort of prickle embedded in Katsumi’s chest.

It’s not so bad, though.

“Sure,” he offers.  “Now rest up, or else. This place is the worst.”

***

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday, Last Line/s & What's the Colour Palette of Your Name?

Tagged by @aceghosts @titiagls @imogenkol @raresvtm and @strafethesesinners

Tagging @inafieldofdaisies @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @softtidesworld @socially-awkward-skeleton @josephseedismyfather @voidika @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Late Music Monday for The UnTitledverse, specifically for the last three chapters of my A Blast In The Past WIP, and a Last Line for WIPs for The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters and a colour palette results for my username. Colour Palette can be found here. Anyway, you can find these below the cut:

Chapter 3 of my A Blast In The Past WIP, called "Absolutely Anything" continues with Calvin being denied his POV, and the Narrator continuing to slander his name, in spite of Calvin's actions. Also more introduction to allies and enemies, as well as Calvin being desperate to just... leave. Hence the chapter's title. Sure his actions are warped by the Narrator to seem more incompetent/selfish than he actually is, but yeah. Not only is Calvin's character twisted by the Narrator's words, it's also literally everyone else, but Calvin gets the Narrator's hate boner the most.

"I used to be so beautiful, now look at me My actions are undutiful, it's clear to see Come on and step out of that cage There's a new chapter, turn the page I'll take my place up on the stage All eyes on me!"

"I can hear you calling Calling up to me I'm falling down, I'm falling Won't you set me free?

I'll do anything, anything Anything that you need me to do Absolutely anything for you I will be aware of the ink, swim or sink Watching out for anything out of the blue But this nightmare's coming true What have I got myself into?"

"Have you ever wondered what heaven is like? I like to dream that it is quite beautiful A soft valley of green grass blanketed by a warm sun I don't think I'll ever get to see it Are you ready to ascend, my little errand boy? The heavens are waiting."

"You'll do anything, anything Anything that I ask you to do But you don't have a clue 'Cause I can guarantee, guarantee That demon's always after me and you But this nightmare is coming true Look what you've got yourself into."

Chapter 4's the darkest chapter, hence given the name "Art Of Darkness". Calvin's got his hands full with subtracting the number of foes he's got to deal with, meanwhile being psychologically tormented by the Narrator and the environment around that's sole purpose is to beat the shit out of him. Calvin gets closer to finding his exit... or at least, what the Narrator states is a lead.

"So sing along to the bouncing ball Wave your flag and renounce these halls You may have been sacked from this pantomime But a pal of mine wants you recalled

So march along to the count of four Astound at the scoundrel crowd you've drawn Left stranded and damned to this mangled form To abandon us here was an act of war."

"It's laughable to think you'll bring back the norm." "We've ink, but no malpractice forms." ""But Henry! You never gave a crap before?" 'Til we trapped you down 'neath the factory floor."

"Clap along to the rapturous score Three rounds down and back for more To find the keys in chapter four." "Remind me, where've you heard that before?"

"If you thought that demons were your problem right now Well, the angel's on the stage so pipe down If there are secrets that you want to find out Hop on the ink machine and ride those pipes down

So you're on the path of the starving artist But at the heart, well the art is heartless Ever seen a masterpiece get discarded? Start and depart for the art of darkness."

Chapter Five "Clearer" marks the finale of A Blast In The Past, the culmination of Calvin's journey and the mystery of his circumstances being revealed with the help of two intruders who the Narrator doesn't want anywhere near his playground. For Calvin, everything becomes... "clearer" in a way.

"Wake up in the wrong place at the wrong time Got to run away, no way out Thought I had new friends, new allies, but they won't let me escape

I pray that we make it out alive

I see the writing on the wall again Breaking out of here Everything's clearer We haven't even reached the end, but we make our own way And we are not gonna stay

Almost took all our blood, sweat, and tears to take down all our fears We're brave, but I pray that we make it out alive

I see the writing on the wall again Breaking out of here Everything's clearer We haven't even reached the end, but we make our own way

I have conquered demons of every kind But I wish that we could rewind all the years Power and justice, it was everything he wanted But despite it all, he could never find what he was looking for Now here we are at the end

I see the writing on the wall again Breaking out of here Everything's clearer We haven't even reached the end, but we make our own way And we are not gonna stay-ay-ay-ay

We'll never stay We will escape."

You can find the Last Line/s for The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters below.

Still got my Coroner!Silva AU WIP No Snake, Only A Boa In The Garden from The Silver Chronicles. Anyway, have some Faith Seed POV as she falls for Coroner!Silva and falls hard (not that she already wasn't in an earlier scene where Silva charmed her with her strange hyper-fixations on the science behind corpses):

Faith wasn't sure if her words were making any sense to Silva. Botany was vastly different from forensic science. It'd help to prepare the coroner for when she eventually joined their family, especially as "the Mother" like Joseph had proclaimed. As she continued to speak, she took a chance to glance at her bench mate.

The first thing Faith noticed was Silva's eyes. Usually they were a dulled grey, without a light of life in them. There seemed to be a glow in the rings of her irises; a burning intensity, like molten silver. She held a dedicated gaze, absorbing and absorbed by every word that spilled from Faith's mouth, even as she began to slow and falter in her observation. The acute stare was different from Joseph's; his held a power that felt like he was judging a person's soul. Silva's though held no judgemental scrutiny; only a warm admiration that passed over her soul like an embrace. It almost felt like Silva was actually hearing every word Faith blurted out of her lips.

Faith swears she's seen this look before, or something close to it. Yes, right, Nadi. This expression was a similar kind she noticed on Nadi whenever John was around or even mentioned, which was often. Faith had often shaken her head at the Sinclair women's transitioned from a "dutiful bodyguard" to a "lovesick puppy" the moment John entered the frame; something Faith would combat with a teasing smile and an eye roll at the silly display, always finding herself satisfied that such antics would never happen with her, that level of attention unnecessary compared to the Father's approval.

And yet, Faith found herself breathless and unfairly unprepared in the face of the level of attention Silva's given her. Though she recognized just how contrasting the coroner's was from Nadi's own. The sharpshooter's was rooted in a kind of inexperienced love; a childish crush really, an envisioned idolized image Nadi built around the few virtues John displays, ignoring the glaring flaws John has. But Silva's gaze was more grounded, a reserved devotion almost saved for Faith; a maturity and experience Faith often laments not being given a chance to have herself. Just as she listened to Faith, it felt as if Silva was seeing Faith as well. Not as the Siren. Not as a herald. Not even as Rachel. Just... her. Just as she is now.

By now, Faith had ceased talking, just entrapped in the eyes of the woman next to her. Heart pounding, a red flushing on her face as she managed to ask Silva with a wavering smile, "Why are you staring at me like that?"

The Sheriff's coroner leaned against the support of her arm, gloved knuckles against under her cheek. Faith noticed her lips were slightly ajar, glistened with a natural shine as Silva seemed to think of an answer. She observed as Silva's expression shifted, displaying a coy smirk that was almost sly of amorous. The ridiculous thought caused her heart to flutter as anticipation coiled in her innards. Silva shuffled and leaned a shy bit closer to Faith, the recipient trying to swallow her nerves at the change of atmosphere, awaiting Silva's answer.

And here's a Last Line Tag for my Sonya's Push WIP from my Life, Despair & Monsters series. Enjoy the little snippet of one of the most toxic w|w couples I've made thus far:

A steam of hot air blew pass the clenched jaw of the mechanical Beastie, its optic shining a red hue onto her flesh. Jennifer sucked in a breath and shuddered as the heat stung her exposed shoulders. The Apex, Sonya, whatever name Malvolio's Beastie crowned itself with, hadn't immediately given her an answer. She tried to struggle against the tail's curled hold around her legs, waist, and arms.

Just like last time, she only succeeded in causing the tail to coil tighter, effectively pinning her hands to her tattered and dirty golden dress. The fear of her body's circulation being cut off suddenly occurred, so she ceased the struggle, hoping to gain the Apex's favour as it inspected her from the ground, circling as the panic and fear rumbled in her stomach. Jennifer was unsure what fate awaited her. She hoped her words made an effort in appealing to whatever human desire remained in the Beastie, but if she were to die, she'd wish it to be quicker than what Dicko received.

Anyway here's the results for the colour palette name game:

Nice to see I got some blues and purples and even a bit of greys. I can live with the reds and the darker/paler colours I guess but what's that lone random greenish-blue doing there, poor sod.

[arosapphicfaemonarch]

Malluvika Draconia - マルヴィカ ○ドラコニア:

Age: 178

Pronouns: She/They/Fae

Gender: Demi girl

Grade: 3rd Year

Birthday: January 18th (Capricorn)

Height: 193cm/6'4"

Dominant hand: Left

Homeland: Briar Valley

Family: Malleus Draconia (twin brother)

Maleanor Draconia (mother)

Maleficia Draconia (maternal grandmother)

Raverne Draconia (father)

Lilia Vanrouge (guardian)

Likes: Collecting tiny objects

Dislikes: Being told what to do

Club: Art

Best Subject: Ancient Curses

Hobbies: Painting

Pet Peeves: Loud people

Favorite Food: Hot peppers

Least Favorite Food: Seafood

Talent: Causing problems on purpose

Casual outfit:

Appearance: Long straight black hair half up in space buns, half down. Unlike Malleus, she has scales on her cheeks resembling freckles. They share the same green eyes and dragon like features.

[tallclan]

TALLCLAN LORE: ORIGINS

In the early days of the clans, leaders would receive their nine lives from Stars’ Touch, which was located at the top of very tallest mountain of the valley. It was a treacherous journey and it wasn’t uncommon for many cats to die along the way or lose a life or two on their way back. At the time, this was seen as a trial of sorts. Anyone who survived the journey was clearly suitable to be clan leader and was blessed by StarClan.

It wouldn’t be long before issues associated with this would cause unrest in the clans, especially in the colder months when the weather was its deadliest in the mountain. Several heirs died before reaching the top and those that were fortunate enough to commune with StarClan, were never able to wake up again. Bodies began to pile up, marking the trail.

With so many heirs perishing, lineages were cut off and tension boiled as distant relatives fought to claim the title of clan leader. It wasn’t long before blood began to be shed within the clans. Blood spilling blood. A clan fighting with itself. StarClan was appalled by what was occurring and they knew if this continued, the clans would become their own undoings.

The Bog, the divide between the mountains and grassy, forested valley, had always been the meeting place for the clans’ healers. Now, though, it would serve a new purpose— the place where new leaders would earn their lives. There was only one problem, though. Well, two, but the most important one was how to send a cat to commune to StarClan. To do so, a cat must lose their life, in turn, leaving behind their old life. The conditions in Stars’ Touch were perfect for that, but here in The Bog, where they were the most farthest from StarClan’s reach, what could they do?

Of course, where there’s a will, there’s a way. From now on, a clan’s Lead Healer would accompany the heir during their leadership ceremony and deliver a killing blow to the throat, sending the cat to StarClan.

Now to the second problem, Stars’ Touch. This was an ancestral ground, which the clan cats weren’t willing to abandoned so easily. Plus, there were the more stubborn, traditionalist cats (specifically GlintClan) who wouldn’t budge to this change. StarClan needed someone to guard Stars’ Touch from not only outsiders, but from the other clans. That’s where TallClan came in! Cats from all four clans joined to form TallClan, willing to fulfill this task set by their ancestors.