#do you know how pretty the stripes could be on feathers

[transingthoseformers]

So i edited the photos to see what colors worked, and it's looking like blues and grays are currently my best bet!

Yes i went on a mild crusade to make him look at least a little feathery, i should've drawn him from scratch and just used a reference but eh🤷‍♂️

SG dinobot would have such an interesting character arc because theoretically, he could start out as one of the good guys (the sg predacons), demonstrate the same frustration with how Megatron runs things, and then join the maximals. But i feel like sg Dinobot would be farrrr less bold in his efforts, hell at all. Does he see it as a temporary arrangement now? Was he convinced it was for the greater good, or was it "i can fix them"-itus?

The possible divergences would be INSANE. I like to think he still has that sense of honor to him, it just gets twisted up as time goes on and the longer he spends as being a maximal. I like to think sg Dinobot is just a little awkward, too.

[roguesimagination]

Meddle About

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x F!human Reader

Synopsis: The Metkayina celebrate an important feast, to which the Sullys attend to. However, Neteyam discovers some feelings that he had for the reader and that had been hidden all this time...

Genre: mature and fluff

Content warnings: Neteyam and reader are 20, size kink (kinda), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), m/f ejaculation...

Notes: This is my first oneshot (and smut fic) ever so I accept criticism and I hope you enjoy it. Also, english is not my first language so if there's any mistake please tell me <3

Also, let's imagine that humans do not need oxygen masks just because I said so (and because I forgot)

Word Count: 2.7k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

One thing you always admired about the Na’Vis is how comfortable they felt by only wearing very loincloths, feathers or leaves. They perfectly covered them, but they would probably barely cover you. If you wore anything similar, you’d feel almost naked. However, one night the Metkayinas decided to have a feast.

Neytiri insisted on dressing you in a proper way for the festivity. She was tired of seeing you in your “human clothes”, as she said. So you decided to trust her. With Kiri’s help, she designed a beautiful shell top that, somehow, perfectly covered your nipples. They also made a loincloth that combined perfectly. Then, Kiri adorned your hair with even more shells and braided some strands. If it wasn’t enough, they covered your face with red stripes along your face; there were two on your forehead and two under every eyelid.

“Are you sure I look good?” you asked Kiri. “I mean, this is really beautiful, but I don’t know if it’s too much.”

What you actually thought was: Will Neteyam like this?

“Y/N, you look perfect.” she reassured you. “Trust me.”

“You look like a goddess!” Tuk exclaimed. “Like Eywa herself.”

“Thank you, Tuk.” you chuckled. “But I believe Eywa is far more beautiful.”

Neytiri, Kiri and Tuk were also dressed similarly to you, but you obviously felt weird. For you, it was like wearing a bikini, except for the fact that you never wear them, and that this covered even less than a bikini. However, they did a great job. All of your “intimate” parts were surely hidden.

When you arrived at the feast everyone was dancing around bonfires, singing and talking. Some of the Metkayinas stared at you. You weren’t sure if they were looking at you with disgust, anger, or confusion, but you wouldn’t let them let you down. You understood that it was still hard for them to accept you there since you were a “sky person”.

What you didn’t notice though was the way Neteyam was looking at you. He had known since the day he was born, so did you. You were pretty good friends, and nothing else. But seeing you like that made him wonder many things.

Has she always been this beautiful? How haven’t I noticed? God, do all humans look this good? Why does she never dress like this?

He had always had an innocent crush on you, but seeing you like this made him realise how much he really desired you. He was a gentleman and a respectful man, but he couldn’t stop eyeing you up and down. Your thighs, your shoulders, your collarbones, your breasts (especially your breasts)... If you only knew all the things he’d do to you if he could.

A slight smack on his arm woke him up from his daydreaming.

“Are you done staring at Y/N or are you actually going to talk to her?” Lo’ak smirked.

“Shut up.” Neteyam muttered with blushed cheeks.

“Oh, please.” he laughed. “You’re so obvious. At least go and talk to her.”

Lo’ak gave him another smack, this time in the back. Neteyam gave him a death stare on his way towards you. To be honest, he had no idea what he was going to tell you. You were standing next to a bonfire while talking to Kiri.

“Hey, ho-how a-are you?” he asked shyly. He bit his tongue embarrassed for his stuttering.

This was definitely not the Neteyam you knew.

“I’m fine.” you smiled. “Just enjoying the feast. You look really handsome, by the way.”

You said that with an innocent intention behind it; he did actually look handsome. He was wearing some sort of handmade crown and yellow paint in his face that suited him. What you didn’t know was the effect those words had on him.

“Thank you.” he smiled. “You look really hot, I mean, nice! You look nice!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He was fucking it up. You barely even noticed it. Kiri furrowed his brows in confusion. The always serious Neteyam was losing his composure. Before she was able to speak Neteyam decided to intervene:

“Would you like to go on a walk along the beach?” he asked quickly.

“Sure, I’d love to.” you replied.

On your way there you talked about the things you always talked about: human topics, something stupid Lo’ak had done or new things you had learnt with the Metkayinas. While you were walking your arms barely brushed against each other, which made Neteyam incredibly nervous, even if you didn’t notice it. But he wanted more.

At some moment Neteyam teased you about something stupid, so you hit him in the arm. He smacked you back, making you fall to the ground. Sometimes he forgot he was bigger and stronger than you.

“I’m so sorry.” he got on his knees, next to you. “Are you okay?”

You acted as if you were seriously hurt and took advantage of the situation and flipped him. Now you were on top of him.

“Ha! I won!” You laughed.

You were even more beautiful in that position. You truly looked like a goddess under the moonlight. He loved your smile, the way your eyes shone in the night, how your tiny hands were on his chest…

He wished to be irresponsible for once, to stop worrying about the consequences of everything and just enjoy the moment. He was tired of being the one who had to fix everyone else’s problems while they had fun. He wanted this night to only be about you and him, only if you felt the same way.

He couldn’t exactly remember the moment he had his hand on your waist, or when you had come so close to his face, but at that moment he wanted, no, he needed to kiss you.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” he licked his lips and put a strand of hair behind your ear.

You blushed intensely. Neteyam liked you. Your Neteyam… But you also knew you shouldn’t do it, even if you had secretly daydreamed about this a million times.

“Neteyam,” you looked at him. “I don’t think we should.”

“Why not?” he asked, fearing that you didn’t feel the same. “I mean, uhm, It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” you answered quickly.

“So you do want to kiss me.” he grinned cockily at you.

“Oh, shut up.” you covered your face with your hands.

He took the opportunity to buck his hips upwards, flipping you around. Now he was on top of you. You couldn’t help but moan when he bucked his hips and you felt some kind of pressure against your core. You hoped he didn’t notice.

He held both of your hands on the ground, each one one either side of your head and looked at you deeply in the eyes.

.”You have no idea how much I want you right now.” he said, admiring your body.

“Neteyam, we can’t do this.” you argued. “I’m just a human and you are a Na’Vi. And you’re the son of Toruk Makto. No one will accept this union.”

“My father was a human too and look at him now. He’s got the love of his life and a family.” he caressed your cheek with his right hand. “I don’t care if you’re human, or na’vi or even a worm.” you laughed at his words. “I don’t care what they think. Oel ngati kameie.” (I see you)

You didn’t even realize it but you became a crying mess. No one had ever touched your heart with their words, but Neteyam was right in front of you, opening up to you, being honest and giving you his heart.

“Shit, you made me cry.” you looked away.

“I can make you scream, if you want to.” Neteyam joked.

“Neteyam!” you smacked him in the arm.

“By tickling you!” he explained. “God, what is it with you all hitting me to-”

You interrupted him with a kiss. You put your hands around his neck and pressed your lips against his softly, waiting for a  reaction. When he processed what just happened he held you and put you on his lap while kissing you back. His lips were soft and warm; it felt like home.

Neteyam held your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, caressing your lower lip with his tongue waiting for you to let him explore your mouth, which you did. He kissed you again, and again. and again… You were like a drug to him.

“You are so beautiful.” he muttered between kisses. “So, so beautiful.”

Then his hands traveled to your back, stroking it gently and making patterns. You kissed his jawline and then his neck, making sure to leave a couple of hickeys. He groaned at the sensation of your tongue on his neck. Every movement you made took a reaction from him.

You decided to take off your top to be more comfortable. Also because you loved it when Neteyam touched any part of your body. When you tossed it aside he looked flustered. He was unsure. He didn’t know if he could touch you or if you were comfortable, but before he could ask you kissed him again, passionately, and put his hand over your breast.

He massaged your breast softly and played with your nipple. You moaned slightly leaving your mouth open and he bit your lower lip slightly. God, he made you see stars just like that.

Then he caressed your other breast and licked your nipple, waiting for a reaction. He saw that you liked it so he kept licking and biting over that area, leaving hickeys all over your chest.

Now he was caressing your thighs. Sometimes his fingers would get dangerously close to your core and the loincloth you were wearing didn’t do much to hide your arousal. He noticed it, of course, and he couldn’t help but wonder…

“Can I taste you?” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Uhm, I uh, yes.” You blushed intensely at his request. You wanted to, but you were nervous.

He laid you on the sand and gently took off your loincloth, never taking his eyes away from yours. For him this wasn’t just physical; he wanted to please you, to make you feel good, to show you how much he loved you.

He started by kissing and licking your thighs. Very slowly and gently.

“If you’re uncomfortable or want me to stop, just say it and I will.” he told you, looking at your eyes for reassurance. “I don't want you to do something you don’t want to.”

“I’m okay, Nete. I want to.” you answered him.

With your consent he kissed your cunt experimentally until he felt confident enough to do it properly. After all, this was the first time that he had ever done something like this. He licked a long stripe of your pussy, earning a high moan from you. He loved that, so he kept licking. He began slowly, but increased his pace as you moaned more and more.

“You taste so good.” Neteyam muttered, sending a vibration to your core.

You had certainly never felt something like this, but it was amazing. He licked your cunt like a starved man; up and down, making circles and even diving his tongue deeper and deeper… Then he found your clit, which he sucked carefully, increasing the pressure slowly.

“Oh fuck.” you moaned. “Neteyam…”

Hearing you moan his name had him over the edge, so he increased his pace even more. When he licked along your slit he would stimulate your clit with his thumb. Then, when he sucked your clit again he tried inserting one finger slowly into your cunt. It slid easily because of how wet you were. He curled his finger inside of you, increasing his rhythm slowly until you were a moaning mess.

You felt how your orgasm was approaching. You felt heat all over your belly and your face. You were going to cum anytime soon.

“Nete, I…” you couldn’t even talk at this point. “Oh, my god.”

Your moans were even louder now and then it happened; you came undone. Neteyam took out his finger slowly and decreased the rhythm of his licks until he stopped to take a look at your face. You were breathing heavily, your cunt was completely soaked and your legs were shaking, something that worried him.

“Hey, your legs are trembling.” he said. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” you said between shaky breaths. “That’s what happens when…”

His face lit up before you could finish your sentence. It didn’t take long for him to understand what you meant.

“Did I do it so well?” he smirked.

“Yes, you did.” you blushed. “Now come here and let me touch you.”

Neteyam laid on the sand and looked at you with confusion in his eyes, waiting for your next moves. You propped yourself on your knees even though you were a shaking mess and started kissing his abdomen all the way to his loincloth.

To him, it felt like heaven.

“May I?” you said, pointing at his loincloth.

“Y-yes.” he stuttered.

You took off his loincloth slowly while caressing his thigh to soothe him. Something you forgot in that moment is how big the Na’Vi’s are, in all ways. You had seen a few dicks, in movies, in anatomy books… But this was a whole new thing. It was so big that you didn’t even know if any of it would fit in your mouth. Neteyam realized the look of horror in your face.

“Hey, listen.” he took you by the arm gently. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I-I want to.” you smiled at him. “It’s just that it’s really big.”

Neteyam had to take a big breath after hearing you say those words. You could get him all worked up just like that.

“Just lay down and let me try.” you pecked him on the lips as he laid down.

You started by leaving soft kisses along his thighs. Then you got close to his member and licked the tip slowly. Neteyam closed his eyes and let out a breathy moan. You kept licking the tip while you stroke his length. It was even more difficult with your tiny hands so you had to used both of them. Even though you felt you weren’t giving him enough pleasure, Neteyam felt as if he was already in Heaven: every lick, every kiss, every caress… Everything felt amazing.

You took a bit of his length inside your mouth and started moving your head up and down, with your hands stroking the part that was left. Your mouth hurt because of how wide his dick was, but you didn’t care. Hearing the sounds Neteyam made was enough to make you keep going.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he exhaled while stroking your hair.

You went even deeper, almost to the point of gagging, but you remained calm. You were doing well so far. Neteyam gripped your hair tightly, but it didn’t hurt. You liked it, in fact. At this point he felt how he was about to cum.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “I’m… I’m going to c-cum.”

He expected you to take off your mouth but you kept going, even faster, until he came inside your mouth. The taste of his cum was a bit salty, but you liked it. You swallowed and took some breaths when you removed your mouth.

You laid next to Neteyam as he held your hand and both of you regained your breath. You looked at each other for a while without saying anything, unsure of what to say or do. One thing was clear, you had to return to the feast before anyone realized that both of you were gone.

You dressed each other and arranged your hair, trying to hide any evidence of the things you had done. He dressed you with care and gentleness, always smiling at you or peppering your face with kisses.

When both of you were done he held your face and put his forehead on yours.

“I see you.” he said, with loving eyes.

“I see you.” you replied before kissing him one last time.

[hugsandchaos]

Okay, I know I said that Danny + dark crystal = Eldritch Danny reflex transformation, but this is separate from that. Let’s take a quick step back for a quick second, because I thought this was a good idea.

Danny accidentally touches Twilight’s dark crystal, or maybe he does it on purpose not realizing that’s the thing turning him into a wolf, and becomes a giant space bird. He could either be a raven, crow, or magpie, and here’s the explanation!

Raven or Crow: Ravens and crows are known as symbols of death or something like that, so that would be a reference to his status as a halfa. His dark wings would be perfect for glowing spots or swirls of colors like stars and distant galaxies on a clear night, and they wouldn’t really affect his hair color once he’s back to normal since the feathers are dark. Unless you want to add a few small random spots of white that eventually fade back to black.

This form would also have a ghost form, which looks pretty ethereal. The “living” form has dark feathers, eyes glowing like you took the moon, duplicated it, and put it in his eye sockets with a hint of blue, and several glowing white spots on the under-view of his wings. The ghost form has white feathers, eyes so dark that it looks as if light itself can’t escape it and somehow with a hint of green, and the white spots have turned black.

Magpie: I just noticed that when Danny had bird features in a lot of fan AUs, they’re usually magpie features, which I think is pretty cool! I mean, you can just switch the colors of the feathers when you go from “living” to “ghost”, and you get the best of white and black feathers in both forms! With this one, Danny could have a few stripes of pure white in his hair when he changes back, but his entire hair color doesn’t change like Legend’s did because his feathers were both black and white.

Both ideas could have a few of the same things. Here’s a list of them!

•White spots and streaks in the black feathers to resemble stars and comets, the patterns switching colors depending on which form Danny’s in.

•Under-view of the wings reflects the night sky, even during the day. Looks really odd in ghost form, though.

• ⬆️ Both ideas are for two reasons; To symbolize Danny’s obsession of space and blending in during night flights.

•While in his living form, Danny flies just like a bird. A giant bird, but still a bird, which is a bit of trial and error given how he used to fly. While in ghost form, his core does most of the work, but he can still use his wings to push himself even further.

•Living form eyes glow like the moon, ghost form eyes are dark like black holes.

•Eyes stay the same color? Blue in living, green in ghost.

•Danny is able to mimic sounds and voices just like a crow/raven/magpie. He has fun with it.

•Giant space bird form is 25 feet tall.

Scenarios with Corvid Danny!

•Twilight tries to calm Danny down, but after looking over himself and moving around a little, Danny actually gets excited and starts showing Twilight his new space wings. Danny will want to go back to normal sooner or later, but for now, he wants to stay in this form for a bit. Still, he knows the crystal belongs to Twilight, so he asks him if he can stay in the form for “a bit” to enjoy being a giant space corvid. Twilight was a little confused by Danny’s enthusiasm, but he agreed.

•Explaining it to the group. Twilight explains that the giant space bird is Danny, and when Sky offers to turn him back, Danny refuses and explains again that he wants to see what this form can do first. And then he shows off his space wings, because that’s his favorite part about the whole situation. He has no idea why his form is a giant space bird, but he’s not complaining! Twilight says that he’s letting Danny borrow the crystal for a bit, but there’s obviously going to be a few rules.

•Danny’s not allowed to go near civilization, he’s to avoid travelers, no flying too far, no fighting until he gets used to this form to avoid mishaps, and no jumping off cliffs to practice flying! Get down from there, space nerd!

•Danny carries them and lets them mess with his feathers as long as they don’t pull. I think Sky is most likely to ride on Danny’s back for fun and anyone can climb up onto his head to get a vantage point of the area, but who’s the first to actually ask? Danny suggested it, actually! He wanted the others to see the view he did and lowered his head, then told them to climb on. Then his lifted his head back up, slowly so he wouldn’t drop them, and let them watch the view with him.

•It’s snowing. The group can’t find shelter to get the fire started and they’re tired. Corvid Danny uses his wings to make a tent for them! His wings are really big to support his weight and size, so it worked! Oh, and don’t worry! The temperature wasn’t actually bad for Danny. 1; He has feathers. 2; He’s used to these temperatures and lower. 3; His ghost half.

•Danny practicing flying whenever he gets the chance. He picks up on it pretty quickly! Half of it is from closely watching normal ravens/crows/magpies flying and copying them, and the other half is trial and error.

•Normal corvids flock to Space Corvid Danny and talk to him. They think the strange, giant bird with wings like the night sky needs investigation, and they ultimately decide that he’s friend material!

•Space Corvid Danny copying all sorts of sounds and even the group’s voices. He thinks it’s really funny, and he’s right! The group asks him to copy certain things, sometimes to make fun of each other, and it’s great.

•Space Corvid Danny VS Big Flying Monster!!!

•Space Corvid Danny talking with Twilight about how much he loves learning to see the world in this new perspective.

•The Links spotting or even making constellations in his wings. He gets really hyped up about it, and if they’re making up new constellations, they’re now obligated to make up stories based off it with him!

•The others got “animal habits” or something from their forms, and so does Danny! What are these habits? Let’s brainstorm! Definitely developing a fondness for shiny things, but his space obsession urges him to organize it into a constellation or some other space related art project… That’s all I can think of. 🙁

•Space Corvid Danny going ghost would be pretty interesting! The night sky patterns being inverted would be quite the otherworldly sight!

•He 100% gets Wild to take a few pictures with his phone.

•Danny either going to Twilight and Sky and says he’s had his fun and is ready to turn back, or he’s asked for it back and he agrees. Then he hugs Twilight and thanks him for letting him have such a fun opportunity. Twilight thought it was interesting that Danny didn’t freak out and immediately search for a way to change back, but rather want to explore this new perspective.

•As I’ve said, if it’s a magpie, Danny could have a few stripes of pure white in his hair when he changes back, but his entire hair color doesn’t change like Legend’s did because his feathers were both black and white.

•He might get the chance to be Space Corvid Danny again someday. Who knows?

Little bonus bit!

•Sam and Tucker think that Danny’s Space Corvid form is pretty neat and ask if he can still become a ghost, and he happily shows off! They climb on him, go for a flight, mess around with mimicking sounds, and overall have a great time together. Some of the Links think it’s sweet.

[pomegranateboy333]

I thought you wanted to dance

Sidedude!Mike x GN!Reader

Warnings: smut…, cheating, reader is not the greatest person, neither is mike, some fluff, it’s just kinda sad, mike is the other woman, Vanessa gets cucked

Based off sweet/i thought you wanted to dance by Tyler, the creator, possibly part 1 of a longer series but only if y’all like want it lemme kno

The two of you lay in his bed, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, and you swear you’ve never felt happier. You’d told her that you were going to your homegirl’s place for the weekend, told your homegirl to keep her mouth shut.

“You know,” Mike broke the tranquil silence, “I think that when God made you, he really took his time.”

You snorted at that, “you’re so corny.”

He smiled at you, “but he got one thing wrong.” You raised an eyebrow. “Your name,” he pulled you in closer, his lips hovering over yours, “shoulda called you Sugar, you’re so sweet.” He crashed his lips against yours as he finished speaking, taking your breath away. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. It was so nice, so new, so, so wrong.

Try as hard as you might, you couldn’t silence your conscience, but with his lips pressed against yours you came pretty damn close. So you pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss and pushing her image out of your mind. He shifted the two of you so that you were resting slightly on top of him, his thigh between your legs.

He steadily applied pressure, your breaths becoming small whines of pleasure as he began to move you against his thigh. You shifted again so that you were on top of him and began to grind down against him. You moaned at the feeling of him pressing against you, your lips twitching up into a coy smile as he began to whine beneath you. You loved having him like this, putty in your hands. It might’ve been your favorite way to see him.

Leaning down, you began to leave marks along his neck, obsessed with the way his scruff and soft skin felt under your lips. You began moving down his bare chest towards the waistband of his boxers, sucking hickeys into the skin and feathering kisses over the bruises. His hips bucked up as you kissed him over his boxers, his hand moving to tangle into your hair. You pulled him out of his boxers, licking a long stripe up his shaft before moving your mouth around him. You relaxed as you let him take control, fucking up into your warm mouth. The room soon filled with lewd, wet noises and his whines and moans as you took him down your throat.

You could tell when he was close, his dick twitching in your mouth as he repeatedly hit the back of your throat. You reached up one hand, massaging his balls as your pulled back to take in a deep breath. Then you took him back into your mouth, moving down until your nose was buried in the curly hairs at his base. He came shortly after, thrusting into your mouth as he let out a high pitched, almost girlish whine. You gently worked your mouth over him as he came, pulling off slowly and swallowing whatever hadn’t already dripped out of your mouth.

Moving up his body, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before he flipped you over, smiling down at you, “your turn.”

~~~~

“How was Stacy’s?”

You jumped slightly as you shut the door behind you, you hadn’t expected her to be home. When you turned to look at her, she had the widest, sweetest smile on her face. She was so happy that you were home. You felt your heart sink into your stomach. “It was a lot of fun, I, um,I had a great time.” You forced a smile onto your face, your eyes glued to your shoes. God, you were such a piece of shit.

“Oh, I saw Mike at the store yesterday, he says hi,” she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. You hoped that you didn’t smell like him.

She planted a gentle kiss on your lips before you responded, “oh. Well, when you get a chance tell him I say hello.”

“Will do. So, what did you and Stacy do all weekend?” She grabbed your overnight bag and began moving down the hall towards your bedroom.

You kicked your shoes off, trying your hardest to act casual, “oh, you know, stuff. We, uh, we saw the new Scream. It wasn’t as good as the other ones.” That wasn’t a total lie, you and Mike had risked a night out one town over to see Scream 3, and it really wasn’t as good as the others. You’d both agreed that the twist was pretty interesting, though, and it made you kind of sad to think that this was the end of the trilogy. You both loved the movies so much.

“Oh, really? You know, I don’t know what you like so much about those movies. Mike loves them too, I just don’t get it.” Her laughter carried to you as you walked into the room behind her, love filling your heart at the sound.

“He does? That’s cool,” you reply as you wrap your arms around her, pulling her back to your chest. “You have no idea how much I missed you,”n you mumble into her neck, breathing her in. You really could spend forever like this. God, what was wrong with you? You ignored the way that your stomach turned in self-disgust as you peppered kisses along her neck. You couldn’t help but notice the difference. Her skin was softer than his, no hairs tickling your lips around her chin. For a moment you found yourself wishing that it was him.

Pushing the image of him falling apart beneath you out of your mind, you led Vanessa to towards the bed.

~~~~

You sat in the living room, watching tv in his arms. Abby was at a friend’s for the night and the two of you were relishing in having the time alone. Without his sister there, you two could be as openly affectionate as you wanted without the risk of something accidentally getting back to Vanessa. It sounded fucked up and fake, but the last thing the two of you wanted was to hurt Vanessa. You didn’t want to break her heart or destroy her trust, but that seemed inevitable if you kept this up.

There was just something about Mike, you’d felt it since the moment Vanessa introduced you to him. It was hard to explain and hard to resist and eventually you just got tired of trying. So you let him kiss you, or maybe you kissed him, either way you ended up in his bed with his head between your legs and you felt something you couldn’t remember ever feeling before. It had just sort of… escalated from there and before you knew it you were carving out entire weekends, fabricating week long trips to visit extended family that just wouldn’t align with Vanessa’s work schedule.

You were both well aware that you were a shitty partner and he was a worse friend. You knew how much Vanessa loved you, you knew how much you loved her. But none of that seemed to matter in comparison to how much you wanted Mike. It made you feel pathetic and like a low life if you thought about it too much, so you tried not to think about it too much.

Mike was pressing gentle kisses along your jaw, his teeth occasionally nipping at your skin, making you grin. You pulled away and turned your head towards him, “what’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about you,” he hums, leaning back towards you, kissing down your neck, “how much I love you.”

You felt your blood stop pumping at his words. Pulling back again, you met his eyes. “L-love? What the fuck do you mean ‘love’?”

He looked into your eyes, taking your hands in his in a tight grip, “I love you.”

You began to shake your head slowly, “oh, Mike, no-“

“No, listen,” he cut you off, “I love you. I love you so much it drives me crazy, and I don’t care if you don’t feel the same. I just had to let you know.”

Your breath was caught in your throat, you had no idea what to say so you just stared at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Please say something, though. Otherwise I’m going to feel really fucking dumb for saying anything at all.”

You took a deep breath before speaking, your words coming out slowly as you struggled to formulate your thoughts. “No, Mike. You don’t love me. Love… it isn’t apart of this. That’s not what this is.”

He wouldn’t let go of your hands, “maybe not to you, not to me either at first, at least. But I swear I love you. I love you so fucking much and you can get up and leave right now and never talk to me again and I wouldn’t care. I’d still love you.”

You stood up, snatching your hands away from his far harsher than you intended, “Mike, please just listen to me. You don’t love me-“

“No Y/N, I do. What makes you think that I don’t? I wake up every morning and my first thought is you. I go to sleep at night and your face is all that I can see when I close my eyes. I’m always right there whenever you call, always. You think that I don’t love you?”

“Well, you can’t!”

“Who are you to tell me who I can and can’t love?”

“I don’t care who you love Mike. As long as it’s not me.”

He stood across from you like a wounded puppy, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Vanessa loves me, and I love Vanessa and you and I have fun sometimes but that’s all it is. That’s all it is ever going to be.”

“Fun? This is just fun to you?”

“I thought it didn’t matter to you if I felt the same. Besides, what am I even supposed to do with this information? I suppose you want me to leave my girlfriend for you now? Move all of my shit in here and play family?”

“I don’t expect you to leave her, I just- I just wanted you to know how I feel, do whatever you fucking want with the info.”

It was obvious you’d hurt him, something you’d never ever wanted to do. But that was how it had to end, wasn’t it? Someone always had to get hurt in things like this.

You grabbed your coat and bag and left without another word, regretting everything except for him. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to stay away.

[l3viat8an]

Omg, God/Goddess MC😖😩

Golden horns that grow just above the ears and stop about 3 inches above their head

A third eye on their forehead that glows white

A birthmark on their stomach with a person balancing the 3 realms

MC's pupils are a raindrop (but yellow, you'll see why)

A white and gold striped halo that floats right above the horns

4 Large White, feathery wings, with some gold feathers. (Sorta like Lucifer's when he was holy😭)

And last but not least! Wait for it... Wait for it... Still waiting... THEY CRY GOLDEN TEARS 🤩 (so when they hit the floor, it turns solid)

Maybe MC had a bad day, they're stressed and tired, their body hurts. They have a headache from the brothers shenanigans and so they release the horns and halo they've been hiding(along with opening their third eye. Their back hurts from being curled up in a corner all day, so they let out their wings. They move to the middle of their bed, They're balling their eyes out. And then somebody walks in. (Maybe they have on a see-through shirt or croptop to see the birthmark)

I literally just wanna know how you feel abt the concept of this🤭

How do you think they will react? Maybe shookith🙈

Inspired by Tears Of Gold by Faouzia✨

Omgomg- this sounds sooo cool!! ‘n MC sounds so pretty!!! The horns!!!! The wingssss!!!!!! 😩

No matter who walks in MC has to answer some questions jsksjsj- (tho it’s worse with Lucifer or Satan because they’d want practically interrogate MC (jokes jokes-))

Imagine Mammon walking in ‘n being torn between trying to comfort MC and frozen in place because, like, gold tears are staining their bed and think of all the grimm that could be- comforting MC wins out but he’ll be asking about selling their mattresses later helpshsj

Or Lucifer walking in to apologize for dragging MC into another drama filled day, but they’re wrapped up in their wings crying. Wings and horn…gold tears he probably already knew MC was a god(dess) even if they didn’t tell him but he’ll try to calm them down by asking questions. Simple things at first just to get their focus on something else.

Asmo sees MC crying gold and wants to help- but when he moves to sit on the edge of their bed to comfort them he starts gently running his fingertips over their feathers…then he’ll realize what he’s done and apologize, saying they’re just so pretty…

Levi is stuck in the doorway- like I’m not sure he’ll be able to help or even move for a bit- one of the other brothers has to come slap him out of his awestruck state-

Satan freezes too- but it’s because he knows what he’s seeing and he knows when his emotions get like this he wants to be left alone. But it’s MC…he wants to help them, asks what’s wrong and- well he’ll just have to wait.

Beel or Belphie walking in and the first thing they think of is how much MC’s wings resemble Lucifer’s old wings. Those same white, fluffy, wings he used to wrap around them when they were scared- then slowly taking in the rest of MC’s body. The little horns, the third eye….the tears.

Uhhh- anyways- I rambled too much I’ll have to come back to this again when I’m actually, fully, awake shkahaja but I love the idea sm!!!!!

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks to @writingsfromspace here and @leahnardo-da-veggie here!

My words: smile, flinch, frown, growl, feather, huntress, glory, nice

Your words: absorb, cute, overwhelm, symbol

Tagging @whatwewrotepodcast @sparrow-orion-writes @pluppsauthor @bookish-karina @ahordeofwasps

@sarahlizziewrites @oh-no-another-idea @space-writes @kingkendrick7 @dragonhordesfandoms

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy

Keep reading for:

Ash gets a headache

Lexi knocks on a door

Gwen does math homework

Maddie uses her powers for the first time

Planning for a training exercise

Maddie's shapeshifting research

An awkwardly written older draft of TSP

Lexi and Noelle talk Ash's birthday

Smile - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

Her smile wavered and she let out a small cry, placing her hand on her head. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Ash murmured, blinking a couple of times. “Just a headache.” “You need ibuprofen?” “Where are you gonna find ibuprofen here?” Ash asked. I shrugged. “They have granola bars, so why not?” “That’s fair.”

Flinch - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I looked up at the house, which was… big. The door itself was, like, ten feet tall. I wondered who’d possibly want a door this size beside a giant when it slid open, causing me to flinch since I wasn't expecting it to retract into the wall. Also unexpected: the person at the opening was not a giant, but a girl shorter than me. She wore a light blue dress with wide sleeves and a fringed skirt and on her feet looked like moccasins—I had a pair, but I rarely wore them. “Can I help you?” she asked.

Frown(ing) - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“Well, you’re here before Ash. That’s what matters,” Gwen pointed out, adjusting her gray sweater around the tank top that would otherwise be dress-coded. She returned to the math worksheet in front of her. “Isn’t that due next week?” I asked, being in the same class in third period. “Getting ahead,” Gwen answered, frowning as her pencil tapped her arm in what sounded like a complex time signature. “You never know what could happen.” I opened my planner to check the color-coded schedule. I’d scheduled Sunday for doing math homework. I didn’t see the need to do it during class.

Growl - from The Secret Portal Part One (Rose POV)

“We have no idea where Lexi and Ash are!” “Why do you care?” Maddie snarled, her teeth bared, almost sharp. “You only care about yourself!” That last word came out as a growl. Her eyes I now realized were glowing amber. Her teeth were growing into sharp fangs, and I flinched as the wire connected her braces snapped. Orange and white fur sprouted in patches along her body. She shoved me to the ground. I did something I hadn’t done in years: let my fear show. For it wasn't an eleven-year-old girl that now stood above me, but a great Siberian tiger.

Feather - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

Gills ignored me. “That leaves me, Tyler, and Rosalinda on offense. We’re gonna try and get that feather. Ideas?” “I can attempt photon teleportation.” “Not reliable. What else?” “I can ride light particles—” “Nakashima, something that won’t cause you to pass out.” Tyler sighed. “Fine. I’ll see if I can melt the casing.” “Better.”

Huntress Hunters - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

“How would a tiger be useful to shift into?” “Camoflauge,” I answered. “Their colors and stripes are almost an illusion to keep them hidden from their prey. But snow leopards are better hunters. And better jumpers, though Bengal tigers can jump pretty well.” “Which is more useful? A snow leopard or a tiger?” “If it was cold enough, easily a snow leopard. They’re more efficient and powerful. But I think tigers would be applicable to other situations. Snow leopards also have giant paws that work like snowshoes so they don’t leave deep indentations in the snow.”

He [George's dad] was captured in late 2010, near the beginning of the war itself. I was four-and-a-half. I barely remembered him. He was tortured with electricity, a metallic’s weakness, until he died. Maybe his son using his work in his wife’s lab to save his daughter would honor his legacy. I kept watching the time, my foot tapping impatiently. The number one problem with being a speedster was that time was always slow for you. My hand instinctively reached toward the ring around the chain that hung from my neck. Dad’s wedding ring. His body was returned to us after he was tortured. His ring was blackened, burnt, from the sudden conduction of electricity, and it certainly didn’t help his situation.

Glory Honor - from The Secret Portal Part Two (George POV) - OLD DRAFT

CW: mention of torture

Nice - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

Noelle sat on the floor, working on her art book. “Hey!” I said, perching on the railless stairs beside her. “Hey,” she responded, setting her stuff aside. “God, I hate that class.” “Sorry. Um, you get anything for Ash?” I asked, holding up the wrapped box I hoped looked nice. Noelle lifted a plastic bag beside her stuffed with paper. “Y’all gonna embarrass Ash in English?” Noelle asked, not being in the same class as the rest of us. I scoffed, setting the box down. “Of course.” Then I smirked. “Guess you’re glad your birthday’s in the summer. Saves you from that embarrassment.”

[winters-mistress]

Alone No Longer

Gods, Ciri is exhausted. Cold too, so cold that she can no longer feel her legs underneath Vereena's pretty dress. They've been spread wide astride Roach's saddle for hours, catching gust after gust of freezing cold wind, her hair decorated with snowflakes.

Where is she? All the forest looks the same, dark with glowing white trees with glowing white ground, the stars shining bright as she snowstorm ravages on and on.

Where's Geralt? He told her that people bound by destiny would always find each other, he promised her that he'd come to her after she left with his horse. What was in that house? A beeza? A brooksha? Whatever it was was dangerous enough to make his face to chalky white and his eyes black depths because of that potion, and surely that's a bad thing? It has to be, he'd killed things to feed her and never did that. Is that little vial just for monsters? She can't tell, all the girl can tell is that she's lost, cold, exhausted and really sad.

She's greatful that the horse didn't buck her off or hasn't bolted with one of the great roars of wind. Roach could be just as temperamental as her master, she's seen her headbutt him in the face for no reason, and in the next breath lick a long stripe of slobber from chin to hairline. It was very gross, but rather amusing.

"I'm sorry, girl." Ciri moved her leg to run her foot across the cold horse flesh. Her hands are frozen tight to the stirrups, she didn't think she could move them if she tried. "I don't know where to go, what to do?"

What the fuck did Geralt expect her to do? Roach is outside the gate, if anybody other than me leaves this place, ride for your life. Okay, that happened, Vereena was blasted out of the manor, she rode like hell down the hills and streams. But what now? Go somewhere? Go back? Wait for him standing in place? Or keep riding his poor, cold horse in circles until he managed to find them? How could he find them? Surely Roach's tracks were filled with snow now, so what did he want her to do?

Ciri wished now more than ever that he wasn't so grumpy and grouchy and so uncoval, she would really have appreciated another step to that plan of his. Because if he had, she wouldn't be here, cold, tired, lost, riding around in circles just wishing he was here.

Was it Geralt that she wanted? Or Calanthe? Mousack, Eist? Maybe even Dara or Adam. Just somebody to be there, so she didn't have to keep looking over her shoulder as she horse danced in the snow beneath her, waiting for a hunter or a monster or a feather hared Knight who haunted her dreams and made her scream.

"Come on, Geralt." she whispers, wiping the snow from her lips, urging Roach on. The horse continues slowly, she ducks her head down, shivering at the feeling of the snow against the back of her neck. It's cold and wet and she desperately wishes to wake up in Nivelen's lovely bathtub or comfy bed and none of this would have ever happened.

Finally, the girl reaches a hollowed out alcove of a clifface. How far has she ridden? What time is it, will Geralt come?

She can't get off the horse without help. It was only because Nivelen has stored a box near where Geralt situated his mare that Ciri could climb on, but now? No box, no tree stump, no grumpy witcher? She's stuck up here, so once she steers the horse so her side presses against the dry wall, and a pathetic rooftop covers Roach at least, Ciri leans down and rests her face in the damp, knotted mane.

"I'll tell him to brush you whenever he comes back. You deserve as much, don't you, girl? Stuck with me in the eye of the storm." she murmurs. Gods, what kind of crazy person talks to horses? Has her few hours of solitude been the thing that sends her around the twist?

Her face is numb from the cold, and she wishes that either her cloak or Geralt's was there with her. Give her some sort of protection against the elements, because now that she has to be awake the rest of the night, or until the witcher finds her, the last thing she'll do is fall asleep and possibly get her protectors beloved mare stollen or killed.

"Come back, Geralt." she whispers, tears being the only thing that burns her right now. Could Vereena have killed him? Could she have lost another so quickly after her family?

Her eyes want to close, and she fights hard to keep them open. She can do this, maybe he's got a tracker device somewhere, maybe he's been following her this entire time, maybe he's part dog and has caught her scent and is running to them.

She giggles, delirious. Geralt, a dog? She must be loosing it.

She wishes this happened after a full night's sleep, that Vereena didn't start trouble until dawn, half a night sleep after so much exhaustion isn't sufficient. Its hardly good for one's wits to be so tired.

"Geralt." she whispers his name, not sure why. Roach twists her head, winnying. Ciri rubs her leg against the horse again, hoping she won't bolt. Just a moment of rest, that's all she needs. Just a moment-

"Ciri!"

Thr girl wakes with a start, feeling her damp dress stick to her back, and her back pop loudly with how quickly she sits up. Her body tenses and she gasps, but soon sags in the saddle as she finally sees the white haired witcher trudging towards her.

It's light out now, an hour or so after dawn, the sky has a reddish hue. He is a stark contrast against the white of the snow, all black with his hood pulled up, hiding his hair. But his eyes are as bright as ever, and she exhales with relief.

"Thank the gods." she mutters, shaking the snow from her hair. She's not cold anymore, numb now. It's better than shivering, she thinks, and now Geralt can do his witchering stuff and build her a fire to relive her.

Geralt grumbles as he reaches her, he spares a moment to rub at Roach's neck before he stops at Ciri's feet.

"I didn't think you'd go that far." he grumbles, reaching up to grab her. His hands almost connect around her waist, and she's pulled down from the saddle, groaning as she begins to feel her limbs again.

"She wouldn't stop. And you didn't tell me how far to go." Ciri's knees buckle as soon as he puts her on her feet, so he helps her sit instead.

"Gods, you're like ice." He grunts, touching a large hand to her cheek. She closes her eyes, feeling his warmth. How is he so warm? Another witcher trick?

"What happened?" she questions, only now realising that he's got blood on his face. Vereena's blood, Nivillen's?

"Found the bruza, she was feeding on Nivillen." He winces as he says the name. "Tried to get her off, she blasted me away. And we fought for a bit, she tried to bite me. He stabbed her, I ended it. And he told me things that-" he trails off. "-things that changed my opinion of him. We're not going back there." He trails. Ciri doesn't remember hearing him speak so much. He looks at her, scanning and looking for something she's not quite sure of. "I'll get you to a cave somewhere secure-" he decides. "-hunt you down a couple of birds, build a fire to warm you two up." He probably speaks more to himself than her, listing things he needs to accomplish to give himself something else to think about.

"Okay." she whispers, swallowing back another noise as he helps her up. He looks at her again for a moment, unclasping his cloak and sliding it over her shoulders. It's warm, and she sighs with the relief.

"Come on-" but he doesn't let her speak as he picks her up and plops her back onto Roach. He swings up behind her, reaching over to grab the reins. Roach huffs, but begins to walk obediently. "-try and rest, girl. I'll get you to safety."

[snowlupinwoodstories]

Writing Practice #2

This writing prompt was supposed to be about two characters going to pride and one character covering the other in rainbows. It didn't quite go that route, but I enjoyed writing in none the less.

Liam adjusted his bowtie for the six-hundredth time, being sure to align the blue, purple and pink stripes so they were in the right orientation. He wore his button up rainbow striped vest without a shirt underneath, and rainbow checkered slacks with a blue, purple, and pink belt. He finished off his outfit with some glittery black combat boots with rainbow laces.

 Deciding he was finally good he tossed an inclusive pride flag on his back and clipped it like a cape with a safety pin. He stepped out of his car and made his way up the walk to his girlfriend’s house. They were going to walk to the parade and then down to the park where the Pride was occurring tonight. He knocked on the door and gave his head and neck a shake, helping all his dark feathers lay flat. 

With a click the door opened and Liam’s girlfriend, Jaami stepped out. She wore stylish khaki pants down to her black flat shoes. She also wore a white blouse with sleeves that stopped at her elbows, showing off the dark caramel feathers of her arms. She wore a beige shawl, draped around her shoulders and down her back, hiding her long olive colored tail with bright blue eyespots. 

“Is that what you’re wearing Jaami?” Liam asked, taken aback. 

“Do you like it? I took a long time finding neutrals that complemented the look and didn’t make me look too out of place,” She said, adjusting her shawl nervously. 

“Don’t get me wrong, it does look stunning. But this is pride! We need to do you up in rainbow and color! I want to show you off!” he honked, placing a wing on her shoulder and directing her back into the house. “Let’s see how we can spruce this up a bit!” He guided her to her bedroom.

“But Liam I really feel-” she began only to find a finger placed against her beak.

“Shh, darling, your outfit is fine for a lunch out, or a religious space. But pride is a cacophony of color! And you’re so pretty I don’t want you hidden,” He pulled off her shawl, exposing her long tail feathers, tucked tightly against themselves. “You know I have a lovely transflag sitting in the back seat of my car, we could have matching capes!

Jaami froze as she spotted herself in the full length mirror, her tail trying to tuck itself out of sight. “Now lets see, rainbows or soft pinks and blues would be good,” She could hear Liam say as he opened her closet and went through each piece, “Where is the color love? I know you enjoy your neutrals but all girls should have some color in their wardrobe.”

Liam fussed to himself as he looked through everything. Beige, white, tan, black, and gray filled the closet, with nary a splash of color in sight. With a sigh he turned to a basket that held light scarves, desperately searching for something to liven up his girlfriend's outfit. 

Becoming fed up with the also neutral colored scarves he huffed and dug deeper into the closet, opening a bin hidden towards the back. Here it seemed was where the rainbows had hidden. Jewel toned short scarves, some multi colored vests, and shirts had all been tucked away hidden. 

Liam grinned, and pulled out a neon blue vest with a dark green and purple peacock tail feather pattern. This would brighten up the white blouse Jaami was wearing nicely. And paired with a short amethyst colored shiny scarf would add a significant pop of color. The pants were a lost cause, but he was sure with his transflag turned cape and maybe another skirt to stand in for  a belt it wouldn’t be too drab. 

“Throw those on while I grab the flag from my car. Then we can see about doing some makeup or something. Really help you get into the spirit of Pride!” he told her as he stepped out of the room, dashing to his car.

Jaami stared at the vest and scarf, running her hands over the silky material. She remembered the somber feeling she felt packing them away when she decided to fully transition. Peahens were encouraged to dress in neutrals, to show the seriousness they took in life and raising the family. Peacocks, on the other hand, were encouraged to wear flashy clothes, in order to show their wealth and planning. They had to woo the women and impress her family. It was important to be well dressed, bright and energetic so as to show the resources you had to take care of your family. 

She’d never felt at home in the bright colors growing up, being loud and the center of attention wasn’t her forte. But she did look good in them. She remembered staring longingly at the mirror, wishing the vest would lengthen, become a dress, and let her feel beautiful. She remembered hammering down those feelings and pushing more and more into trying to be the person her parents wanted her to be. She felt tears bead up and begin to run down her beak, all the feelings from before overwhelming her. 

She pulled on the vest, feeling its weight sit on her shoulders.The straight cut reminded her of her more tapered frame, rather than the hourglass or curved body she tried so hard to emulate. She buttoned the first two buttons, not wanting to disappoint Liam. While the vest still fit there she realized that it no longer fit around her bust. Between the hormone treatments and the stuffing she used to help fill out her clothes just a bit more the vest could not contain the shape she now was. It was comforting to see that her old clothes couldn’t constrain who she really was anymore. 

She took another look in the mirror, seeing the rich jewel tones shine against the white and khaki she’d picked out. It was a good look, a bit feminine even. But it wasn’t what she had grown up seeing women wear. Her mother was a fan of dark neutrals. Black, grays, and some browns, sharply cut and easy to move around the house with. Her father wore bright blues and greens, and was determined that any boys in their family would stand out. She remembered the day he gifted her her first brightly colored outfit, a garnet shirt with long sleeves and dark violet pants.

He had an impassioned speech prepared about how she was a young boy and must do her best to represent the family. The clothes she would wear would speak to the family’s wealth. The state of her clothes, her ability to keep things nice, and her charm and boisterousness would attract attention, so that she might find a wife someday. How she’d loved that outfit, but hated the strings attached. The beauty wasn’t safe. How she learned to long for the drab neutrals her mother and sisters wore. How un-feminine she felt. 

She remembered the first time she realized women could wear rich toned fabrics as well, at a party for her father’s job. How she longed to twirl and dance in long jewel toned dresses, to do her makeup to seem feminine rather than fierce and attention seeking. But that wasn’t proper femininity for a peahen. She remembered her mother telling her that women like that were silly, and needed maids and stewards to keep their houses running well, that they were only figure heads. “Get yourself a good girl, who dresses well, plain and can actually run a house, rather than a flashy air-headed woman.”

She fingered the edge of the vest, mixed emotions writhing inside as she heard Liam shut the front door to her house. “Jaami, I got the flag! I don’t have another safety pin, but maybe you do? Or another way to attach the cape,” he paused, cocking his head to the side as he looked at her face through the mirror, “Jaami what’s wrong, you look like you’re about to cry.”

Jammi blinked hard, gathering the writhing mass of emotions she finally spoke. “I grew up not feeling like myself, and then when I finally start to feel myself I find I’m still missing a piece of myself. How can I be a peahen and not be able to dress like one? How can I find myself missing the bright colors I grew up with, knowing that to be more myself I have to give them up.”

Liam reached out, pulling her into his arms, letting his wings embrace and cover her, “I didn’t know you were dealing with this my love.” He spoke softly, bringing his neck to touch hers. “We can go back to your original outfit, it sounds like your expression is tightly tied to what you saw as feminine growing up.”

“It is, I was told that women didn’t wear bright clothes. Those beautiful clothes I saw on other people weren’t an option for my sisters. And I wasn’t allowed to wear anything similar to what they wore. Bright colors were masculine, I was expected to be flashy, attract attention, and do well in my studies. To stand out! But it was all an act, an act I put on as a boy. But I wasn’t.”

“I know, I know. You’re my lovely peahen, Jaami. And I should have considered that before I tried to get you to change your outfit,” Liam pulled back to look into her eyes, “You’re beautiful no matter how you dress, and you don’t have to change for anyone, or anything.” He unbuttoned the vest, letting it shift to her sides. She watched as he did so, stopping his arms from taking it off. 

“I think I want the vest. And the cape. Maybe, for today I don’t have to be a stereotypical peahen,” Jammi declared.

Liam offered her the flag. She took it and turned in in her hands, before walking over to her dresser and opening the first drawer. She pulled out a box that was shoved to the back and opened it. Bright pins made with semi-precious stones, glass and metal gleamed back at her. She picked up an old favorite pin of hers. It was styled like two peacock feathers crossing, with two purple amethyst’s for the eye spots and fine malachite flues and sterling silver quills. She tossed the flag around her shoulders ,and pinned it in place. 

“Let’s go to the parade,” she told her loving boyfriend.

@bloobluebloo

[homeofhousechickens]

Do you know if any new color morphs or mutations have developed in chickens comparatively recently? Like horses are constantly inventing new versions of the splash white gene every few years so I'm wondering if anything is happening similar in chickens?

There are a few things that come to mind, the problem with chickens is some color things are not very well studied and isolated yet so we cant really know for certain about some things intill more research is done but ill talk about the the things that are relatively new in the chicken sphere.

Dominant white is a pretty well studied color compared to other chicken colors likely because white leghorns are some of the most common lab chickens. In 2004 scientists discovered a new color on the dominant white locus called Dun!

It works exactly the same as the Blue gene meaning that heterozygous birds with one dose express the dun coloration but homozygous birds are much lighter and have more pigment striped which is called Khaki-just like how blue is blue with one dose and splash with two.

There is quite a few dun birds these days so it isnt like super new but 2004 is still very recent for it getting identified.

Another color was discovered on the dominant white locus called Smokey and was discovered in a non-inbred laboratory breeding line. This mutation was not caused by any retroviruses or the like and seems to have been spontaneous. This line of white leghorns was gathered from several different breeders so they also had leghorns who were not standard colors (such as blue and mottled) in the gene pool which is interesting to me.

Anyway Smokey produced a smokey color extremely similar to heterozygous Blue birds. Smokey only effects black pigment due to it being on the dominant white locus and it breeds true, birds need two copies of the gene to express it. This means you dont need to worry about splash colored birds when breeding blue. This also means that with smokey you could achieve perfect blue red colorlines who breed true, no need to have black and splash pens (so less culling) since smokeys can just produce more smokeys if you breed them together.

It is thought that Smokey exists out there in the chicken hobby but people likely mistake it for blue or a weird dun but who knows as the average chicken hobbist doesnt have lab to do molecular testing on their birds.

Dr. R. Okimoto one of the people who discovered the gene says it could take decades for the gene to be distribed throughout the chicken hobby to be a competitor to Blue and as far as i know right now this gene is only found in America. It will take a long time for this gene to establish a foot hold but im interested to see how it goes.

Another gene that has been identified by hobbyists is Dull Black, it has no symbol and is not found in scientific literature (yet). Its also known as Recessive Black. Basically it acts as an autosomal recessive and darkens and dulls the feather. Birds who are Dull Black typically do not show iridescence on any part of their feathers even the tail and hackles. Having seen some very dark but incredibly matte looking chickens before i do believe this gene exists and can be readily found. In theory this color would be the perfect color base for Dun and Khaki to act on and might produce some more even toned birds but who knows. Dull black only seems to appear on birds on the Extended Black, Birchen, and Brown bases. Some people argue that this color might actually be misidentified Smokey and others might think its a spontaneously very dark blue bird that popped on in their line one day. Unfortunately we will never really know intill it is replicated and isolated but its likely that Dull Black is some kind of melanizing gene or ever a group of genes that have a slightly different expression then what we typically see in black chickens.

Also whatever the hell Rob's super iridescent chickens got going on (The purple poultry project) i hope he is able to get his birds some testing in the future to see whats allowing the feathers to have such beautiful shine and color.

Hope you enjoyed my infodump

[bzedan]

Storytelling Collective does a yearly challenge for flash fic, with prompts and a nice community format. After completing 2022's run, I picked my ten favourites and collected them in a nice little volume you can pick up at Itch.io. As I'm (finally) editing the collection of my Flash Fiction February faves for 2023 I figured that I should share one or two from last year's bunch.

Belief

“Okay then, well, what do you see when you look at me?”

Sissy rested her chin on her fist and looked at Ribbon. Looked at her friend. The realization that Ribbon was her friend was startling and precious and she set it aside to examine later.

“You look like how naga were in the illustrations from my childhood world folktales book. Only, more real.”

“Yes, but how exactly?” Ribbon’s soft lisping voice had a lilt of amused curiosity.

“Well, you are mostly snake—and a very pretty one, thick bands of brown scales with skinnier stripes of ivory between them.” Sissy waved at the great length of Ribbon, coiled comfortably before her. “Then your head is a human head, only instead of long straight hair like in the illustrations you have a mane of feathers that go down your back a little bit.”

“Okay!” Ribbon’s coils tightened and released in a movement that Sissy had learned to interpret as ‘excited.’ “If you could identify what kind of snake my body was, what would it be?”

“Easy, California Kingsnake.” Sissy smiled. “Your face is even like a human version of theirs, a cute little oval.”

“Do you know a lot of snake breeds on sight?” Something in Ribbon’s dark eyes made Sissy think it was a trick question but she answered truthfully.

“Absolutely not. I only know California Kingsnakes because my daughter’s sixth-grade class had one and we ended up taking care of it over holidays since no other families would. I learned everything you could about kingsnakes.”

Ribbon coiled and uncoiled, then settled herself down so her face was even with Sissy’s. This close, and with the association in her mind, Ribbon really did look like a snake-become-girl, her snub nose and light and dark patches of skin mimicking a kingsnake’s blunt digging head. Sissy remembered her daughter at fifteen trying to explain furries and sparkledogs and was considering explaining the concept to Ribbon when the naga interrupted her train of thought.

“Just a few more questions. What colour are my feathers and what do they remind you of?”

“They’re jewel-toned, but like gems, not clothing colours. Red and blue and green, like in pictures of Quetzalcoatl.” Sissy sped quickly through the last word, knowing she was pronouncing the Nahuatl sloppily.

“And what is that?”

Sissy felt silly explaining a mythic creature to another mythic creature. “A feathered serpent. He’s a deity in Aztec culture but also the Quetzalcoatl is a type of creature in stories, not quite a dragon, I guess.”

“Okay, so.” More of Ribbon’s body moved under her so she sat primly upright, like a teacher who had reached an important part of a lesson. “To you, I look like: the general shape of a creature in a favourite childhood book, mixed with an animal you are fond of and a magical being you know about.”

“Yes?” Sissy felt confused. “You look like what a naga would look like if it were real—because you are real.”

“I look like what you think a naga would look like if it were real.”

“Wait—”

“Your mind shaped me into something you could recognize, Sissy. I look like what I do, to you, because that’s how you believe I should look.”

Sissy shook her head. “But you’d exist if I wasn’t here.”

“Yes, but not in this form. One of you called it the ‘observer effect,’ which was very tidy.”

“But what if two people were looking at you at the same time?”

“Oh, Sissy.” Ribbon moved to curl up closer to her, resting her head against Sissy’s. “No matter who is looking at me, I remain me.”

Ribbon’s sun-warmed body radiated heat against Sissy’s back. “Well, that’s good, it seems like it would be confusing otherwise.”

Ribbon laughed. “Very. Anyway, I think your perception of me is one of the best ones I’ve heard. You see me as pretty.”

“That’s because you are pretty.”

“Exactly.”

Crossposted to my blog

[frozenwolftemplar]

Writer's Month Day 26: Found

Fandom: Tangled: the Series (Cass-centric character study)

Rating: G

Word Count: 807 (more or less)

Summary: Cassandra was five when she learned a hard truth about life and found the dead butterfly.

Author's Note: I had *so* many ideas for this prompt, ideas that I still want to bring to life, but went with this one. Hope you enjoy!

+++

She was only five when she found it, but Cassandra still remembers the dead butterfly.

She...doesn’t have a lot of memories from back then, and those that she does possess are barely there: snatches of storybooks limned by firelight, blurry reflections of a birthday and a wooden sword just for her, echoes of her voice, high and desperate, calling after her dad as he rode over the mainland bridge because it reminded her too much of something she'd always been unable to recall. They are brittle, thin things, robbed by time of details and clarity so they feel more like remnants of dreams than anything, wanting little more than a thought to brush across them to shudder and crumbling into dust.

But the butterfly...the butterfly is as clear in her mind’s eye as if she were holding it once again in her palm.

It hardly weighed more than the air, and if it wasn’t for the faint feel of wings and spindly legs curled in rictus against her skin, she wouldn’t have truly believed she was holding it. She’d been fascinated, at first, running a finger along the fuzzy body, holding it so close to her face her eyes must have crossed as she examined its curling tongue-thing and antennas and all those other parts you never get to really *see* when they’re alive and fluttering among the dahlias instead of lying limp and still beneath them. Most of all, she stared at its wings.

It’s wings.

She’d touched them. How could she not? Butter yellow with bold, dauntless red stripes streaming down their length like banners of victory and running along the curve at the tops before joining them in tapering off into fine saber points. Her finger came away dusty, coated in a powder so fine she couldn’t feel it; however the blood-red tip of her index, along with the bare, translucent fingerprint-sized spot left behind on the wing, shouted something that she couldn’t hear, but meant something to her five-year-old self nonetheless.

Because seeing those gay, bright wings, the butterfly’s pride and joy and freedom in life, useless and slowly flaking away...made her feel wrong inside; cracked beyond what glue could fix.

She hadn’t liked it.

She remembered taking it to her dad. He was in the Captain’s office, poring over maps and pieces of paper so scribbled over with lines they were more inky black than beige. Busy, but he took pause to see what brought her into the office. She showed him the butterfly corpse and her finger and the bare spot on the wing and done what any self-respecting child would do: asked questions.

“Why’s it dead?” “I don’t know, sweetheart.” “Did a cat get it?” “Don’t think so; it’d be more beat up if one did.” “Was it sick?” “Uh...maybe?” “Why?” “Well...my guess is it came out too soon. It’s pretty early in the year for butterflies; last night may have just been too cold for it.” “Then why did it come out too early?” (it had come out a tad judgmental, but honestly, she was disappointed in it if that were true; she thought butterflies were smarter than that) “Don’t know. Not sure if the butterfly even would’ve had a say. Sometimes things like that just happen.” He stood as he said it, giving her hair a stroke as she continued to stare at the lifeless wings. “Guess it just wasn’t meant to fly.”

It wasn’t meant to fly.

His words stuck with her, after Murdock rushed in with an ‘urgent summons’ from the king and, because dead butterflies are of far, far lesser importance, Cass was left- “You sure, hun?” “Yes, Daddy.” -on her own; after she’d gently buried the butterfly (it hadn’t seemed right to toss it aside like an apple core or keep it in a box with her collection of Interesting Feathers and the lucky rabbit’s foot Peder the stableboy had given her); and long after she’d grown up and become outwardly inured to the hardships and injustices and unfairness of the world.

Because she’d found out a truth about life that day: not everyone was meant to fly. Some were fated from before they’d even opened their wings to the world to suffer, to struggle, to lay cold and alone and broken inside while the rest of the world laughed and smiled and soared.

But that was okay, because she'd always believed fate's hand could be moved and that she *could* soar, if she worked hard enough, tried hard enough, *proved* herself a thousand times over. But now-

“MAMA!!!”

Now, kneeling on the threshold of her- her home and numbly watching her world shatter around her like the shards of music box slipping through her phantom fingers, ears ringing with cries her throat and heart finally remember, the wails slotting like a key into that unreachable corner of her mind that’s been haunting her all her life and unleashing a storm of sadness and grief and loneliness and hurt that has her unleashing a lifetime of suppressed sobs, she knows: that was wishful thinking. A fool’s dream.

Because beneath the armor, on the charred remnants of her hand, she can feel butterfly dust on her fingers.

”But Cassandra, there is a way...”

[fankhx-invasion]

Strange Jendellians

Tommy Thayer/reader, alien, alien biology, messy blowjobs and handjobs, tentacles, absolute sin.

This was requested by someone on discord who does not have Tumblr. Please enjoy~

┍━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━┑

You and the absolute love of your life, Tommy, had been together for months now, and you were both taking things relatively slow. Not that you minded any of course; you preferred it that way, especially since this was your first incredible relationship with someone. For Tommy, you were the first partner he told his deepest secret to. Everything between the two of you was a field of new beginnings and broadened horizons. Especially now, after some of the best steak dinner you've ever been fed! Your boyfriend had a natural talent for cooking, but also, it appeared, a natural talent for kissing. He had you pulled closer to him on the loveseat, lips colliding with yours, strong hands resting on your waist. Your fingers worked each button on his shirt open. A smirk graced your lips before you pulled away, hands sliding up his sides to his chest, thumbs rolling around his nipples.

"Tommy, baby, let me see how pretty you are, you don't have to hide."

He bit his lower lip, letting the visual field disappear and instead reveal the gorgeous dark, blue eyes he had, accompanied by paler skin with a silvery sheen, ears that were pointed outwards, and longer canines poking out with each soft breath he let out. Tommy wasn't normal, at least not for a human. He was from some strange, far-off planet he called 'Jendell.' Supposedly, it was close enough that you could see it through a telescope, but could be easily mistaken for a star. Jendellians were very different from humans on Earth, they were more technically and biologically advanced, had managed to harness water for themselves, and were capable of creating food packed with nutrients and sugar to keep themselves easily energized and fed. Humans weren't allowed to know about their existence, in fact, it was against every Jendellian rule to make a human aware of them. But Tommy, sweet, lovable Tommy, he loved you more than anything, he trusted you with his life! The secret was out.

You weren't bothered one bit by it. In fact, you were infatuated with the idea. Tommy Thayer was an alien rebel, and out of every being in the cosmos, he was choosing you to cherish and love for as long as he possibly could. You practically purred at the thought, pressing feather-light kisses to the side of his neck, trailing down to his collar bone and chest, licking at one of his budded nipples to test the waters. The jendellian in front of you gasped, seemingly amazed by the sensations you were causing by doing something so simple. You grinned against his skin, sliding off the couch to the carpeted floor between Tommy's legs, reveling in the flushed expression on his face.

"Tommy, darling, look at me please." You cooed out, trying to grab his attention fully.

He licked his lower lip, eyes meeting yours.

"Good boy. Are you okay with me continuing? I don't want to rush you if you're not ready for that yet."

"It's uhm," he started, embarrassed, "It's different, down there I mean,,,"

"That's okay, I don't mind any, you know. I can take my time and be really gentle, okay?"

He gave a nervous smile and nodded.

"G-go ahead."

Your fingers worked swiftly, unzipping his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles alongside his boxers, letting out a breath of wonder and excitement. You weren't expecting the dripping wet slit to appear between his gorgeous thighs, but you were intrigued. You pulled him forward, kissing the area above, your left thumb pushing inside. Tommy let out a noise of content, moving his legs further apart for your ease of access. You leaned closer, licking a stripe up the opening, noting how the other shuddered in delight.

"Wow, you taste really sweet~" you mumbled, lapping up more of the slick that flowed through, letting your tongue explore inside.

Weirdly enough, something else touched the tip of your tongue, squirming around and growing in size. You were delighted, teasing it with lick after lick until it peeked out enough for you to suck on it, watching how your alien boyfriend squirmed in place. You were pleased with the breathy moans and whimpers coming from him just from something as simple as this. Pulling away, you could see two blueish, iridescent tentacles, covered in a thin layer of spit and Tommy's slick. You bit your bottom lip, eagerly taking both tips into your mouth again, noisy slurping filling the room, as well as Tommy's pretty moans. You would do this as long as you could if it meant you could listen to him begging and pleading for more. The tentacles continued to reveal themselves fully, wriggling around in your mouth, only calming down when you used your hand to stroke the rest of the lengths that you couldn't fit down your throat. When you pulled away the second time, a trail of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tentacles following behind, you let out a purr of satisfaction, noting the almost 13 inches that were erect under your fingers.

"You're a mighty big boy~" your eyes flickered up to Tommy's, darkened with lust, pumping his dicks faster.

"Has to- fuck,~ b-be long enough for, for," he paused, bucking his hips up into your hand, "to reach the womb and, and- I can't thiiiink~ Don't stop, please don't.. I can't-!"

You chuckled, running your thumb over the slit at the top of his cocks, quickening your pace more, licking your lips seductively.

"Somebody's gonna come, yeah? Well go ahead, baby, go and come for me, don't hold back.~"

Tommy gripped onto the couch, rocking his hips forward into your hand, soft breaths slipping past his lips before a guttural groan left his throat, and you watched strings of his release spurt out all over your hand and your face. It glowed a cool, neon green color, felt warm and sticky, and, as you licked some of it off your digits suggestively in front of the flustered alien, tasted sugary sweet. It was addictive. You cleaned up your face, taking swipes of his cum with your finger and cleaning it off, moaning at the flavor. The jendellian in front of you was too far gone, coming down from his high, eyes glazed over. You cooed out to him, reaching your hand over to tilt his chin to look at you.

"Tommy, baby~," you started, leaning forward, flattening your tongue against his dicks and cleaning them off.

"I think we need to have a round two."

┕━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━┙

[blorboclaw]

Thinking about how Stormfur was named Stormkit after his grandfather and got his warrior name after Stonefur, his mentor who died to save him... getting emotional...

And then thinking how Feathertail’s name has no signification whatsoever and yeah sure no one said every name had to be a family heirloom and not everyone who almost got racially-purged should get a name commemorating that, but here are a few ideas:

Prefixes:

- Silver, after her mother who died to give birth to her. They are noted to look almost exactly alike so it would make sense.

- Moon, because the full moon is the only moment her parents could meet without guilt.

- Willow, after her grandmother and her aunt, who died, and her other grandmother, ‘cause if both grandmothers are named Willowsomething you can afford to honor both sides of the family in one go you know?

- Breeze, after her maternal grandmother Willowbreeze and after her paternal great-grandmother Swiftbreeze

- Foam, because it’s the french name of Mosskit and because Foam is silver and associated with water.

Suffixes:

- Pool, because of great-aunt Graypool who fostered the OG river-thunder half clans, and because, again, water.

- Mist, for her mentor Mistyfoot

- Stream, after her mother

- Stripe, after her father

- Jaw, after her grandpa

- Moss, after her foster mother.

Which gives us:

[ID: screenshot of an excel table with the prefixes on the left and the suffixes on the highest line, every case is crossreferencing them, such as B2 being Silverpool, D5 being Breezestream etc). End ID]

So, Silverpool? I don’t like it, sounds like Liverpool. Silverstream obviously we can’t keep. Silverjaw feels weird. I like the three others tho.

Moonpool, obviously, can’t keep it. Moonmist feels weird, maybe for the double M. Moonstream makes no sense. Moonjaw sounds like a badly-transcribed corean name. Moonmoss same as Moonmist. Moonstripe tho? Kinda like it.

Willowpool, I don’t particularly like, but it sounds like something a warrior cat would be named. Willowmist sounds good. And so does Willowstripe. The others, tho... nah.

The Breezes and the Foams don’t work out for me. I’m gonna stop them here.

Which leaves us with:

[ID: same pic as before but the Jaw and Stream columns have been cut out, and so do the breeze and foam lines. The names already rebunked are blank too. End ID]

Now, we’re left with Silvermist, Silvermoss, Silverstripe, Moonstripe, Willowpool, Willowmist and Willowstripe.

I particularly like the Mist and the Stripe ones because the Mist ones are a reference to MIstyfoot the same way Stormfur’s suffix was a reference to Stonefur, and the Stripe ones are both reference to Graytsripe, and a pretty common warrior suffix.

But Willowpool and Silvermoss kinda work too, as far as “is it a plausible warrior name” go. However we’re not looking for plausible, we’re looking for meaningful.

So let’s crop those ones out too.

Now tho, since Storm had been picked out by Silverstream before the birth, I don’t think she would have chosen her own name as the female alternative. So let’s crop out the Silver ones.

We’re left with either Willow or Moon.

And who gave Storm and Feather their warrior names? Leopardstar. So would she have referenced their father, whom she hated? Not sure.

So I think the most probable, meaningful name for Feathertail would have been Willowmist.

[imbonewary]

Shifting Sans Chapter 2 "In Which, Sans is Very Confused"

~

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

~

I flinched hard at a knock on the door. I must've blacked out for a minute.

"We heard something fall," a hesitant voice called through the door. "Is everything alright in there?"

Ah, that must've been me that fell, seeing as I'm on the floor, curled up in a rattling ball.

"'m fine,” hopped out of my mouth before I'd decided to respond. I’m not sure I’ve ever been "fine" but whatever. If that really is my brother than I don't want him to worry, and if it's not... show no weakness or it'll be used against you. I decided to stay on the floor as I went over what I knew; no sense wasting precious energy sitting up. 

So. 

I really did absorb a piece of the human's soul. 

A piece of that thing is inside me now. 

I don't think there's any way to un-absorb a soul.

I'll never be free of it. 

...

Welp.

I'll just have to get used to that. 

What else do I know.

I guess I still have full control because I only absorbed a piece of the human’s soul, not the whole thing, so there’s that. Small blessings. Not sure what I’d do if I could hear that little demon in my head all the time. 

I moved one of the wings into my view to examine it more closely. 

While I'm not 100% certain, I'm pretty sure the wings are coming from that soul piece; they are the same color, after all, and seem to be more like conjured flesh than feathers. Human souls are powerful so it would make sense that a monster who absorbs one would have to accommodate for the influx of magic somehow. Did anything else change besides the wings? I didn't notice anything different while getting dressed, so maybe not. In that case, I guess I'm glad the only change was the addition of wings. Coulda been worse. 

And apparently I can fly now, but I’ll think about that later. 

Grabbing the soul piece must've interrupted the reset; that could be why everything is so weird, but resets only affect time, and they only go back to when the human first fell. At least, ever since they took the power from Flowey anyways, and even then, he technically only had it for a few months. There wouldn't have been enough time, let alone need, to convert the closet into a bathroom. Besides, it was clean but obviously used and definitely not a new feature. 

That skeleton out there... He hadn't corrected me when I called him "Papyrus" but he’s so different than my brother. He could speak softly, not only knew about Gaster Blasters but could summon his own, he was wearing jeans and a white shirt instead of his Battle Body, and he'd called me "buddy" instead of "brother" earlier... I hadn't caught it at the time but now that I think about it, that's even more weird than the rest of it!

I don't... I don't think that skeleton is my brother. Not unless a lot more has changed than just time can account for.

I need more information. I could spin my wheels for hours getting nowhere unless I ask my "hosts" some potentially awkward questions. I just hope they're willing to humor me. 

I sat up, taking a deep breath before standing, once again using the sink for support. As I reached for the door a sudden fear of the unknown washed over me. After such a long time dealing with predictability how well am I gonna handle not knowing what comes next? I wonder how rusty my people-reading skills have gotten...

I shook my head, no more stalling. Swallowing my trepidation, I opened the door a crack, as quietly as I could. "Alphys" was sitting on the far side of the sofa with her tail curled around  her; the white jacket she'd been wearing earlier was gone, leaving just the black dress, as she held the bundled up blanket I'd probably been using earlier. She had darker stripes on her forearms and markings around her eyes but no glasses. That didn't quite account for how much younger she looked. No sign of "Papyrus", though I could hear cooking sounds from the kitchen, solving that mystery. The door creaked and I instinctively pulled back as "Alphys" glanced at me, smiled, and turned her attention back to the low volume TV. I squared my shoulders; now or never time.

I was filled with DETERMI-

OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THIS FEELING?!

I retched, falling forward against the door, onto my knees, as waves of strength, power, and resolve coursed through my entire being. It wasn't painful, per se, but the phantom burning memory of molten magic lancing through my bones was plenty real to me. I hadn't felt anything like that since...

The Labs.

My mind was flooded with old memories I thought I'd buried long before the resets ever started. I saw the sadistic glee in his smile as he held a syringe filled with a sickly green substance; he said it was green healing magic mixed with the barest hint of red DT but the whole thing looked tainted as he injected it into the mana lines in my chest. As close to my soul as he dared get without actually piercing it. It wasn't the first time and sure as hell wasn't the last. 

I whimpered into my hands as I let the memories wash over me. 

It was a well practiced mental exercise I'd developed over the subjective years spent repeating the same goddamn days over and over. Let the mangled memories run their course, acknowledge their presence, send them on their way; and pray that I make it to the other side without losing the rest of my tattered sanity.

If you're goin' through Hell, don't stop.

Several torturous minutes later, the pain filled visions of needles, restraints, rough hands, and strange substances, faded. 

I stayed kneeling on the floor, breathing ragged as I let my fluttering soul calm back into a steady rhythm.

I struggled to my feet, leaning heavily against the wall, and didn't give myself time to think before opening the door, trudging over and plopping onto the couch opposite Alphys. I didn't look at her but I could practically feel her smile... Wait a sec, I could feel it, like a warmth radiating from her but not one I could feel on my bones; one I could feel on my actual soul. Flowing into me from behind, right where the wings were attached to my back. 

Put that on my growing list of weird things to think about later.

Something else I could feel with the wings was every fiber of the couch cushion I was leaning back against. That was an uncomfortable amount of sensory input, especially from new limbs I wasn't used to yet. Or maybe they were just hyper sensitive to touch. Or both, I didn’t conjure flesh often. Either way, that's really annoying. I tried to subtly find a more comfortable position but my fidgeting became less and less subtle the more frustrated I got with the over stimulation before giving up, flopping over the side of the arm rest with a groan of resignation. 

A throat cleared and I flinched hard.

I turned with an easy smile, pretending I hadn't just jumped out of my nonexistent skin, to find "Papyrus" with an amused grin and two bowls of food. Schooling his expression to carefully neutral, he handed one bowl to "Alphys" before offering the other to me. I could still feel his amusement, just like I could feel Alphys' smile earlier. I took the bowl with a quiet thanks, leaning forward to avoid letting the wings touch the couch again. It would be easier to avoid making a mess like this anyways.

A sob caught in my throat as I looked down at the bowl of spaghetti.

Maybe he was my brother after all. 

Swallowing the tears that pricked at the corners of my sockets, I shoved a forkful of noodles in my mouth and, as much as I love my brother, I could admit his spaghetti never tasted as good as this did. I ignored the confusing mix of emotions as I continued to shovel food in my face. It tasted good, sure, but I didn't realize how hungry I was until I... was out of food. I blinked at my suddenly empty bowl.

"Nyeh heh," Papyrus chuckled, holding out another bowl. "Would you like some more? I made plenty."

I grabbed it greedily, trading him for the empty one as he got up from his chair. I hadn't noticed him sit down next to Alphys; where did the chair even come from?

"Oh my g-god, that was adorable," Alphys snickered behind her hand. 

I blushed, looking away. My eyelights had definitely blown wide at the taste; I really hope they didn't turn into stars or, god forbid, hearts. I wiped off my sauce covered face with the back of my hand; guess I made a mess of myself anyways. I debated for a moment before licking it off; shouldn't let it go to waste. I started eating at a more reasonable pace and Papyrus soon sat down with another bowl. Alphys had barely started her own bowl. So where had the bowl he just gave me come from?

Papyrus gave me his own god damn bowl of food, didn't he? I am such a terrible house guest.

We ate in silence a bit longer.

"Thanks for making dinner," Alphys said. "I-it tastes great."

"As great as the skeleton who made it!" Papyrus preened at the praise, hand on his puffed out chest. 

Another lump caught in my throat. This is getting ridiculous, are you my brother or not? You're so like him in some ways but in others you're the complete opposite. It's giving me emotional whiplash! 

"I suppose we should introduce ourselves, now that everything has calmed down a bit," he continued. Now that I've calmed down, you mean. "My name is Papyrus, though you seemed to already know that."

He hid it well but I could feel the undercurrent of suspicion coming from him.

The fact he felt the need to introduce himself means he doesn't know who I am. Which means he can't be my brother. I tried not to wilt visibly. 

"And this is my sister, Alphys."

I choked on my spaghetti. 

SISTER?! The FUCK?!

"That seems to surprise you." His suspicion was leaking out from behind his carefully neutral mask.

"Yeah, it does surprise me," I finally spoke. "You're supposed to be my brother."

[needleclanclangen]

MOON 6 - JOKE

"What do... the other clans smell like?"

Daisyshadow glanced down to Graykit, who was staring up at her curiously. Her other kits were a bit behind him, just as curious, but they had seemingly put Graykit up to the task. Graykit glanced up at Daisyshadow, eyes wide.

Daisyshadow grinned, lowering her head to bump against his small one affectionately. She made sure to be extra light with it. Graykit paused, then reciprocated, purring as well.

"They stink." Daisyshadow meowed, and Larkkit gasped. Buzzardkit fidgeted in place. Bogkit leaned forward, still silent but invested. "Their different scent from ours is so strange! And they stick out." Daisyshadow scoffed. "Imagine smelling like rocks."

"I like the smell of the rocks." Bogkit meowed, head up. "The ones near the medicine den smell pretty."

Daisyshadow did not say what immediately came to her mind, though the cream-furred cat was very close to letting it slip out. No, she will not curse Speckleback. He can do whatever he liked, as long as he did it for the Clan. It was... somehow, becoming easier to just think that and drop her reaction.

"Not the ones of Downclan." Daisyshadow meowed, leaning forward. "Ours smell nice because of Speckleback's help." The thought briefly fluttered across her mind to badmouth him, but she didn't. "Their mountains are much more dirty, much like the dirty feathers of birds dragged through the mud."

"Ew!" Graykit stuck out his tongue. "How could they like that smell?"

"They're used to it. Just like you are used to us." Daisyshadow purred. "Our needle smell, however, is fresh, and is a pleasant addition, rather than a negative."

A scent. Daisyshadow had her mouth open, so she managed to scent it. She glanced to the entrance, and- there. Hollypaw. He had his claws out, practicing a few swiping moves in the middle of camp. Everyone else was likely out.

"Hollypaw, come in." She meowed, and Hollypaw jolted. He sheathed his claws, pushing past the nursery entrance to see the kits. They all huddled a little bit closer to their mom, and Hollypaw waved a tail in greeting.

"This is Hollypaw. He was training hard to be a warrior, like you all will someday." Daisyshadow glanced up to Hollypaw. "Your claws are excellent."

"... Um. Thanks." Hollypaw glanced down at the kits, a big cat compared to the small kits. He shifted. "Maybe I'll be named Hollyclaw."

"I'll let Finchstar know." Daisyshadow nodded. "Want to talk about the other clans smell with my kits?"

"I'm. I'm good." Hollypaw backed away. "Nice talking with you, bye!"

He turned and ran from the nursery. Daisyshadow noticed Buzzardkit release a breath, and her ears lifted. "Buzzardkit?"

"He... He's rude." Buzzardkit concluded, paws fidgeting beneath him. Daisyshadow frowned, and she drew the kit closer. The kit let out a complaining meow, but was unable to fight Daisyshadow as she licked his head, right on his darker orange stripe.

"He's just upset about not being a warrior right now. Don't worry." Daisyshadow grinned, stopping her licking for a moment. "If he's rude to you again, I'll claw him. My job as a mentor may be on pause, but I can unpause at any moment."

There was a gasp of admiration, and Daisyshadow grinned. She continued licking, much to Larkkit's amusement and Buzzardkit's dread.

Events Referenced: Daisyshadow jokes with Graykit about the smell of other clans. Daisyshadow compliments Hollypaw's claws.

[vanivenivici]

I wanted to do a little writing exercise, so here's a quick ficlet of post-canon Goro drinking wine alone on his birthday:

The wine cork is freed from its bottle with a squeak and a satisfying pop. Goro pours the wine into one of the two wine glasses he owns. It’s stemless and he hates it, but it’ll do.

He doesn’t bother putting the bottle in the fridge. It’ll be gone in an hour or two anyway. He takes it with him to the table and places it with the lukewarm bento he’d bought in the station mall. The food is perfectly passable. The wine is actually pretty good. It’s earthy and dark and fruity and just dry enough. It doesn’t pair well with the greasy yakisoba bento at all.

He wasn’t planning on buying the wine, really. He was just passing the time near Tachikawa station and wandered into a small import shop. The friendly shopkeeper made menial small talk about things Goro no longer remembers. But then: “Ah, it’s already June, isn’t it?” Goro stopped with the wine bottle in his hand. He’d been doing nothing but going through the motions for a while, so busy with work and survival that he didn’t even notice. It’s June 2nd. It’s his birthday.

This day has never been all that special to him—or anyone else, for that matter—but he suddenly felt a bit hollow. He never expected to make it much farther than 18, but now, with 22 suddenly curling over his shoulders like a lead weight, he doesn’t know how to feel. He never needed to worry about it.

So he bought the bottle of wine. After all, why not? He’s alive, isn’t he?

He sits in his empty apartment and sips the glass. The television drones on with a documentary about a failed mountain climbing expedition. An unfortunate misunderstanding leaves three men stranded at a high-altitude camp in the middle of a blizzard with frostbite and hypothermia closing in fast. One man volunteers to return to a lower camp and retrieve help. His body is never recovered.

The documentary ends halfway through the bottle. Goro throws out the empty bento and goes for the single slice of shortcake he purchased in the same station mall. It’s light and spongy and layered with thick stripes of custard and mango syrup. The dryness of the wine actually helps offset the sweetness, and the saccharine dessert helps the wine go down easier.

Another glass. Now for the background noise. It looks like the newest Featherman film is finally available online. That should be good enough. The opening scene shows the villain creating an evil clone of Feather Red and setting him loose on the city. Watching the main actor switch from one extreme to the other is surprisingly entertaining.

Then his phone pings with a new message. Strange, he’s sure he left it on silent. One look confirms this, but stranger still, the message is from an unknown number.

There’s an image attached, pushed through despite all of his account safeguards. There’s only one person who could manage such a thing, confirmed by the image itself: a lone cup of coffee on a saucer, emblazoned with the logo for Cafe Leblanc. Goro instantly recognizes the deep polished wood of the front counter, and the row of books across from the seat he would always take. Along with the image is a single sentence:

Joker doesn’t know I’m sending you this.

Goro stares at the message for a long time. He absently pours more wine into his glass and finds there’s only enough left for a single gulp. One cup of coffee at his old seat in a Cafe he hasn’t visited in at least five years. There’s no steam rising from the top, so it’s probably been sitting a while. And for some reason, Sakura has sent him this behind Kurusu’s back. But why?

Kurusu made the cup and put it there. It’s related to Goro in some way, as proven by Sakura’s message. It’s June 2nd. Kurusu doesn’t know that Sakura has passed this on to Goro, like it’s some kind of private ritual. A gift of sorts, that Kurusu either doesn’t expect Goro to want or thinks he can’t accept. This day isn’t particularly special—least of all to Kurusu. It’s been years, and yet Kurusu persists in his useless sentimentality. That damn weight is back on his shoulders. It's crushing his chest.

He doesn’t bother wondering how Sakura managed to track him down. He doesn’t put anything past her. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’s kept tabs on his every move for the past five years. But where that leaves Kurusu, Goro doesn’t know.

His glass is empty. He should’ve bought another bottle. Just what is he supposed to do about it?

. [I've got two endings in mind, so we'll see which one ends up panning out. If either of them are better than the open ending, anyway... Well. I wrote some words! That was the goal!]