#fun fact: my cat is named dust!

[skelecentral]

Bad Sansuary day 7 (hosted by @owl-bones!): Boxed in

Dust week begins!

[arolesbianism]

If I ever do get properly into dst character modding I like have to make an oni character mod at some point, but the issue is Id want it to be an Olivia mod so bad but also Nails is as far as I'm aware the only legal character name wise and as such it feels like it has to be them, y'know for the bit. But also I have already written too much Olivia dst dialogue and I need an excuse to use it damnit

[derangedanomaly]

Ok, I've decided, that since I've done Chaos' facts, I'll do the rest of the Sanses. Cause why not >:)

MASTERLIST

*MY* DUST SANS FACTS/HC

Dust also goes by "Ace", he likes this nickname much more, as it feels like it's not mocking his past :(

The only people who call him "Dust" are Nightmare, Killer (sometimes, just to mess with him) and Ink.

Nightmare is calling him by that name on purpose, just to get negative feelings out of him. Dust wants to tell him off, but is threatened that if he does, Nightmare will have his head.

Somehow almost always tired. He himself doesn't know why, but he just is 🤷‍♀️

Smokes cigarettes. Like- AWFUL lot. He has an obsession at this point...

Is a dog person :)

Allergic to cats. Almost beat up Killer once, because he showed up with a cat.

Is SUPER nerdy. He'll bash your head against the wall if you ask a stupid question. (Unless he takes a liking to you.)

Owns a journal, where he writes about all the interesting monsters he comes across, or Au's that are different.

You gotta know your enemy, to get the XP.

Has light-up sketchers.

His best friend is Horror, because he's the calmest out of all of them :)

Carries around candy in case Horror gets hungry. He doesn't want any more accidents happening.....

Sleeps a lot. Almost always dozing off.

A wannabe emo lmao. Killer keeps making fun of him for acting so edgy.

Doesn't like alcohol. Like- at all. BUT HE SURE LOVES TO SMOKE-

Sassy. (What else to add)

Has the most attitude towards Nightmare.

"DAMMIT, DUST!! DO YOUR JOB!!"

"Why don't you do my job, mf." Cue a fuming Nightmare.

*separate pictures*

[lucius-morningstar]

Lil Dapper Man (Husker Dust Child)

I did promise I had a Husker Dust child in the works. He was actually done today, about an hour ago almost. Was going to post him tomorrow but I know you little Husker Dust fans are going to love him. Fun fact about this boy I had the artist take some inspiration from my cat who I lost just before the start of this year in early December, so now he'll live on as Husker Dust baby. The art and design we're done by the artist BRUXISMEAT on Toyhouse or SadBeebzul on DeviantART.

He has no name yet unfortunately, but his minor inspiration was taken a little after my cat who I will share below.

He was my best friend and someone who helped me during all my hardships. I will never forget this boy and now he'll be remembered in more then one fandom. (I Have a AC version of him too xD) If you have any suggestions name wise I am open to it.

[dirtywrestling]

Night Out - Randy Orton (18+)

Pairing: Randy Orton x Female!Reader

Summary: Your mom wants you to come and meet her new boyfriend but you go out and parties instead and meets a handsome stranger.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Cream Pie, Semi Public sex, Sex in dark ally, Cussing, Reader is of age! Randy Orton being a dick. College Student!Female!Reader, Minors DNI

Word Count: 2,858

Follow My Backup Blog!: @dirtywresling102

“Mom, I told you I can’t tonight.” You told your mother over the phone while checking yourself out in the mirror, applying red lipstick. 

“Why can’t you, Y/N? I want you to meet him. What plans do you have on a Saturday night that makes you so busy?” You could hear the begging in your mothers voice laced in with disappointment.

 You rubbed your lips together, making sure the red gloss smeared perfectly. Your eyes darted towards the untouched books collecting dust on the desk in the corner of the bedroom. “Studying.” You spoke through the speaker. 

“Can’t you just take a night off from studying? Please?”

“Mom, I can’t. I promise myself that I’ll get better grades this semester.” You somewhat spoke truthfully. You’ve been studying more than last semester but the bars always called your name to come out and drink. 

Your mother let out a sigh in defeat. “I suppose your education is more important than my love life.”

“Mom-”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I wouldn’t expect you to drive so far just to meet some man I have feelings for.” 

A low groan escaped from your lips, facepalming yourself. “Okay, I’ll come down next Friday after classes, how would that sound?” 

A loud high pitched squeal screeched through the speakers, you had to pull the phone away from your ear before it burst your eardrums. “That sounds perfect!”

“Okay mom, I really have to go.” You eyed yourself in the mirror, wearing a tight red dress along with the same colored heels. 

“Of course, don’t study too hard! I’ll see you next week. I love you.” Your mother squeaked.

A grin appeared on your lips as you looked at the books behind you in the mirror. “Oh, I’ll try not to. I love you too, mom.” With that you ended the phone call. You didn’t like to lie to your mother but this is what college is all about, partying, drinking and having a ton of sex. 

Grabbing your keys and purse you headed towards the door, exiting out of your apartment. You’d rather get boocockied on by a hot guy than meeting your mother’s lover. Your parents divorced a few years ago because your dad cheated on her with a younger woman, she was a few years older than you. 

Twisting the key, you locked the door and made your way down the hallway and out of your apartment complex. The sun set in the distance and the stars started to peek into the night sky along with the moon. You waved at your elderly neighbor who was watering her flowers. 

“Hi Mrs. Kerrio.” You smiled. 

“Going out, I see.” 

“Just treating myself for studying so hard.” You gave her a grin before leaving. 

Arriving at the bar you did what you always do when it comes to getting a man in your bed. Scoping out the area of the place, seeing who are the couples aka the men that are off limits. Watching the group of people on the dance floor, grinding up against each other, you groan in disgust. It seems like nowadays the more ‘experimented’ gentlemen don’t come to the bars anymore. Sighing, you need to face the fact about dating someone your own age. The thought of that made you sick, just imagining dating a male that was basically a virgin and not knowing the female body made you not want to date.

Something caught your eye on the other side of the dance floor. A good looking man with a light tan, raised his glass in the air and wiggled his eyebrows. He looked fairly young, but looks are always deceiving. You acted as if you weren’t interested, a cat and mouse game was always fun.

Swiveling your chair back to face the bar you waited for the stranger to approach you. Stirring your fruity drink you waited and waited. 

“Don’t act like you’re not interested.” A gravelly voice spoke beside you. 

“Excuse you?” You arched your eyebrow at how he had so many other things he could say he chose to pick this. 

“You saw me show interest in you and you turned around, waiting for me.” His eyes darted to my drink. “You’re also having a fruity drink.”

“Which means?” You eyed his ink covered arm; his wrists were covered in black symbols from his elbow to his shoulder covered in skulls, looking back up to his crystal blue eyes, the man also had a salt and peppered beard.

He chuckled. “Which means you’re waiting for someone to ask if they can buy you a drink, a real drink. Something stronger, something to really get you buzzed.” The male raised two fingers towards the bartender. “Two shots of whiskey, please.” The bartender who was cleaning a glass nodded his head, stopped what he was doing and started to serve us. Pouring whisky into two shot glasses he slid them towards us. 

The man smirked, grabbing his glass and held it up. “To a new friendship?” He smirked, quickly tossing the shot back and swallowing it as if it was nothing. 

“Or something more?” You grabbed your glass and quickly shot it back, luckily college taught you one thing, how to handle liquor. 

“Randy.” He introduced himself. 

“Y/N.” You licked the remaining whiskey off of your lips. “How’d you know all about what I was doing?” 

“I can read women and what they want.” He shrugged. 

“What do I want now?” You bit your bottom lip, looking up at him. Hoping to hear what you wanted out of his mouth. 

“A nice, romantic date and wanting to get to know each other, dinner maybe and for me to meet your parents and see where it goes.” 

Your face fell. This man wanted something and you’re here craving for something else than intimacy. 

Randy laughed. “I’m joking, you obviously want to be pinned to a surface and have your pussy pounded.” He growled, his eyes becoming dark. “Lets face it, you don’t care about me and I don’t care about your family tree. I don’t care where you’re from or your past. All I care about is you giving me consent on fucking you.” 

You swallowed hard, not expecting that you raised your finger up. Another shot of whiskey slid towards you. Grabbing the shot you drank it quickly, swallowing the burning liquid, you nodded. “Let’s fucking go.” You breathed out. 

Randy slammed a twenty dollar bill on the counter, grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the bar. Not even caring about his change he was supposed to receive. 

Walking out into the cool night, Randy looked around for his or your car in the parking lot full of vehicles. “Fuck it.” He snarled, dragging you into a dark alley and pinned you up against the rough brick wall. 

You normally don’t fuck strangers in a dark alley passway but there was something about this man that made you want to do this. Randy spun you around, pushing your breasts against the brick surface and started to fumble with your dress, pushing it upwards. “Naughty girl, no panties.” He panted, his chest started to heave. His large hand smoothing over your bare cheeks, only to go downwards and cupped your already drenched pussy. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re soaking wet.” Randy laughed, the tip of his index finger dipping past your folds, entering you. 

A soft cry escaped from your lips, arching your back and pushing your hips towards the man for him to push more digits into you. “So needy.” He hummed, pulling his hand away from your heat you whined loudly at the lost contact. “I love it.”

You heard Randy’s belt buckle clank as he tugged his pants down. “Randy, hurry.” You needily whined out, swaying your ass. 

Randy slapped your ass roughly and gripped it. “Be patient.” He sternly said, his hot breath hitting your neck. Randy pushed down his boxers and stroked his throbbing cock. He kicked your ankles, spreading your legs further apart. 

“Randy please, I need you.” Randy shoved you roughly against the rigid wall. A soft whimper escaped your lips, a bit of terror ran down your spine from the roughness, but your pussy throbbed with excitement. You wouldn’t be surprised if bruises appeared on your breasts after being pinned so roughly against the wall.

“You want it so bad, then fine.” He hissed in your ear. Randy pinned your hips against the wall with his, grabbing the base of his cock he slid it in between your lips, pushing through your tightness. 

You both moaned loudly, Randy quickly covered your mouth with his hand. “Shh, shh.” He hushed you as a group of college students walked past the entrance way of the alley, heading towards the bar you and Randy were in. 

Once the group of young adults were out of sight, Randy started to pump his hips against you. His thick cock rammed in and out of your wet, aching pussy. “Oh my god, fuck- fuck yes.” Your cries were muffled by Randy’s hand. He let go of your mouth, turning your head towards him he placed his lips against yours. 

His free hand gripped your waist as your hands were against the brick wall, trying to steady yourself from Randy’s forceful thrusts. As you held yourself up against the wall it bit at the palm of your hands, leaving scuff marks. You bit Randy’s bottom lip and gave it a tug, letting go. 

“Such a whore.” He teased, a smirk on his lips. 

“Then fuck me like a whore.” You nearly screamed as his cock hit your pussy from a different angle. 

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight around my fucking cock. Nearly came when I entered you.” He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Fuck, just like that, don’t stop.” You wailed out, the coil in your stomach tightening. Randy’s cock twitched in your tight channel. “Is somebody about to come?” You teased, looking over your shoulder with a cocky smirk. 

“Yeah, you are.” He let go of your waist and grabbed your hair, giving it a rough tug and started to thrust faster. Your lower belly grew hotter and tighter, your cunt gripped Randy’s cock like a viper grip. The hand that Randy used upon your mouth now in between your thighs, circling and rubbing your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit!” You screamed, clawing at the bricks, trying to dig your nails into the hard clay. “Yes, yes, yes.” You gritted your teeth and shut your eyes tightly as you were at the peak of your orgasm. 

“Yeah come for me, fucking slut.” Randy’s grip grew tighter in your hair. You started to see dark spots as you reached your climax. 

“I’m- I’m coming, I’m fucking coming.” You sobbed, your come creaming all over Randy’s cock. 

“Fuck yes, come on be baby. Come on me.” Randy’s thick cock exploded in you, his hot come painting your walls white. “Fuck yes, take all of my come. Such a good girl.” He grunted, pumping his cock a few more times as he emptied himself in you. 

You stood there shocked, he was the first man ever to come in you. You forgot a condom and you didn’t realize he didn’t wrap himself, maybe that’s why it felt so fucking good. Randy slowly pulled out of your tight cunt, watching both of your come slipped down your inner thigh. He chuckled at the sight of the mess on you. Your pussy pulsing now that there was nothing stuffed inside of you.

“That was fun.” Randy breathed out, already pulling his boxers and pants up.

“Y- Yeah, it was. We should do it again sometime, yeah?” You suggested fixing your dress while Randy was already tucking his shirt into his pants. 

“Sorry sweetheart, one ticket per-person.” He winked. “Or should I say, one cream pie per-person.” 

You frowned, not only did you let this man come in you, he was also fucking women with no protection. “You’re disgusting.” You scoffed, walking away, exiting out of the alley.

The days rolled on and it was Friday night again. As you got ready to meet your mother’s new lover, you thought about the dark alley fuck you had last weekend. Wishing you stopped and tried to talk to the man instead of storming off, but then again what kind of man was he really after he said those things to you.

Sighing, you grabbed your purse and left your hotel room and made your way to your car. 

Appearing at the restaurant you looked around, trying to find some familiar faces. “Y/N! Over here!” Your mother waved, making your way to the table full of siblings you sat next to your older brother. 

“How’s college?” Your brother, Nic asked. “Fucked silly and sideways along with hangovers?” He snickered. 

“Shut up.” You hissed, not wanting your mother to hear what you’ve been up to at college. 

“Everyone, this is Randy.” Your head snapped towards your mother, at the other end of the table. The male with the familiar tattoos and cold blue eyes stared at you. Your jaw dropped at his appearance. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months and I wanted you all to meet him.” Your mother rubbed his shoulder to make him comfortable. “Randy, this is Nic, Adam and Y/N.” The two boys said ‘Hi’ but you didn’t say a word, just staring at the man that fucked you last week.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to say hi?” 

You swallowed, trying to collect saliva in your dry mouth. “H- Hi.” 

“Nice dress, Y/N.” 

Your face became bright red, it was the same dress he fucked you in last week.

“Let’s eat.” Adam said, looking at the menu. 

“Fancy mom’s boyfriend do ya?” Nic giggled next to you in a hush whisper. 

“I don’t.” You hissed. Quickly grabbing your menu to hide your face in. 

You didn’t even know what the fuck you ordered. Your mind was all over the place and your heart was racing. Everyone made small talk while you stayed silent.

“So, Y/N. Your mom says you’re in college. What’s your major?” Randy asked, taking a bite from his food. 

“Why do you care?” You grumbled, not wanting to give this man any information about your life.

“Y/N!” Your mother gasped. “Don’t be rude.”

“It’s fine, I understand.” Randy chuckled, licking his lips. “Do you drink, Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Your mother laughed. “Y/N doesn’t drink. She’s too busy with her nose in a book, studying.” Your mother dabbed her lips with a napkin. 

Your eyes darted towards Randy while he smirked at you. “Oh, I understand.” 

You placed your utensils down rather loudly and quickly pushed your chair out making a loud screeching sound. Everyone at your table and in the restaurant stared at you. “I need some air.” You made your way towards the exit. 

Taking a deep breath of fresh oxygen, you tried to collect yourself. “So, you’re not a good girl like your mother thinks you are.” Randy chuckled. 

“Did you know?” 

“Know what?” 

“That I was her daughter.”

“No.” 

“Then why’d you do it?” You spat. “Why’d you fuck me?” 

Randy looked away, swallowing. “I was once married too, okay? She helped me out with a drug addiction but once I got cleaned, I left her. I started to fuck other women, I went to bars to pick up girls your age.” His eyes looked at you, up and down, your stomach clenched. “Then I wanted something else, I wanted a woman a bit older. Well, your mother didn’t get the memo on what a one night stand was.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “So, I decided to stay… I thought I was ready to settle down again, but I craved for younger women. I didn’t want to break your mothers heart so I go out of town to fuck women, I went to the nearest town with a college.”

“Was I your first pick ever since you’ve been with my mother?”

“Yeah.” Randy scratched the back of his neck. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You placed your head in your hands, hopefully not smearing your makeup. 

Randy stalked towards you. “How about we just go back inside and try to enjoy dinner.” You were about to push him away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to him. “Be good or I’ll take you to the nearest alley and fuck you.” He growled. 

“Is that a promise?” You batted your eyes, your panties now getting wet. 

Randy smirked widely. “You’re a dirty little minx, aren’t you?”

Randy Orton's Masterlist

[aquamarine021109]

Introduction (because I actually haven't done one surprisingly)

Name: not sharing my real name, but you can call me aquamarine or aqua for short

Age: 15

Pronouns: I use any/all pronouns including neos but I usually prefer she/they

Sexuality: biromantic aegoromantic fictoromantic nebularomantic aegosexual

Gender: agender demigirl/paragirl with alot of xenogenders

Otherkin: crowdemonkin

my otherlinks that are characters: all versions of c!wilbur (from dsmp), toga (from MHA), angel dust (from hazbin hotel), inosuke (from demon slayer), bakugo (from MHA), denki (from MHA), shigaraki (from MHA), the TBH creature, leonardo (from TMNT 2012),

my otherlinks that are mythical/animals: dragon, siberian husky, black cat,

I experience phantom limbs and the ones I experience are: horns on my forehead and sometimes wings on my back.

Things I do support: LGBT+, furrys, therians/otherkins, wilbur, (you can put in the comments the stuff I forgot)

Things I DON'T support: homophobic/transphobic people, racist/xenophobic people, people that hate on disabled people/people that have disorders, pedophiles, zoophilia, abuse, animal abuse, people on Twitter that try to cancel people for no reason, shelby,

Fandoms im in: dsmp, qsmp(I actually haven't been watching qsmp lately so can someone tell me whats been happening because I stopped watching it around the time of the enderking showing up), MHA(literally my fav anime rn), ddlc, BATIM, cooking companions(I literally love that game), sims4, Helluva boss and hazbin hotel(I LOVE THOSE SHOWS), backrooms, marvel, the boys(love that show), AOT, fnaf, demon slayer, tokyo revengers, TMNT 2012,

Some fun facts about me: im autistic, my two Hyper fixations right now are dsmp and mha, I have a auditory disorder(which means I have a really hard time reading subtitles and focusing on the visuals/story at the same time), I prefer to watch anime in the eng dub than sub, I have arachnophobia(fear of spiders) and a little bit of thalassophobia(fear of the deep ocean), my fav mha characters are denki and amajiki, im a multishipper, my favorite dsmp characters are c!wilbur and c!jack, my fav colors are blue and purple, my favorite lovejoy songs are warsaw, portrait of a blank slate, and normal people things, I recently got into anime a few months ago with the first anime being my hero academia,

Unpopular opinions of mine: I liked thor love and thunder and thor the dark world, I liked she-hulk and s2 of Jessica jones, I liked avengers age of altron, I liked mha s5 more than s4, I liked ironfist s1 better than the entirety of luke cage, I like dub way better than sub in anime, I find anteaters cute(yes I know dont tell wilbur that iykyk), my least favorite lovejoy songs are perfume and taunt, my fav ycgma songs are losing face and your sister was right, my least fav ycgma song is im sorry boris,

[heartstringsduet]

a fun little game going around 💖

If you feel like it, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog

(pls ignore if you've done it already!)

Listen, I did this before but I also never shut up lol. And I have an excuse to send it to more people after my brain wandered elsewhere yesterday and I forgot to continue... 1. My family cat's name is Rambo. He is very very tame and chubby and lovely. 2. One of my best friends came over for brunch last week and I had this though of :"oh I wish she would surprise me with flowers." Guess who surprised me with flowers that day? Not gonna lie, I felt a little like a witch, making my wishes come true. In actuality she did ofc lol. 3. I own a kalimba (instrument) and I annoyed my neighbors with it for two months learning Ghibli songs and now it's collecting dust but I should get it out again and learn some new songs. 💓💓

[supernovaofthoughts]

WARRIORS FUN FACT

I read the Warrior Cats books in French and after being in the online community for a while, i noticed some fun name differences :

Did you know that in French, kittens in Warrior Cats are not named with the suffix -kit but with the prefix -little ? I put the original French names behind their literal english translation.

For instance, Firekit (if Rusty was born in Clan) would be named "Little Fire (Petit Feu), Jaykit "Little Jay"(Petit Geai), Yellowkit "Littlefang" (Petit Croc) etc.

On the other hand, apprentices are not named with the suffix -paw but -cloud.

For instance, Firepaw would be named "Firecloud" (Nuage de Feu), or Jaypaw "Jaycloud" (Nuage de Geai), Yellowpaw "Fangcloud" (Nuage de Croc) etc.

Fullgrown Cats with names like -cloud are completely renamed, like Cloudtail, who's name in French is Snowflake (Flocon de Neige). Fernclouds name is Heatherflower (Fleur de Bruyère).

Similarely, there are fullgrown warriors who get the suffix -paw. For instance, Raggedfur is called Greypaw (Patte Grise), Stonefur is called Flintpaw (Patte de Silex) etc.

Also, here are just some French names different from the english version I thought were worth mentionning :

Spottedleaf is called Smallleaf (Petite Feuille) which sounds so cute imo

Darkstripe is called Black Lightning (Eclair Noir) which sounds so edgy lol

Cinderpelt is called Cindermuzzle (Museau Cendré), which sounds so cute. As if her muzzle was covered in cinder dust

Jayfeather is called Jayeye (Oeil de Geai) which I find refers well to his blind, blueish eyes.

Leafpool is called Moonleaf (Feuille de Lune) which sounds nice as well

Hawkfrost is just called Hawkfeather (Plume de Faucon), way less cool than Hawkfrost imo

Brokentail is named Brokenfeather (Plume Brisée)

Anywaaays just had this stuck in my brain and wanted to get it out. ^^

[peter-must-die]

I think i should probably introduce myself

hi my name is peter

if u couldn’t tell

erm I’m emo and punk I suppose?????? idk I don’t really like to label what I identify with but I know that people want a label for it so that’s sort of there LOL I also don’t always talk in caps I’m just on my iPad

i fucking love my chemical romance (saw them in March‼️) I also love reading and writing and film

I PLAY GUITAR!! acoustic but I want to get an electric one so bad I also know silent night on guitar so that’s there

ok fun facts about me

I have a photo of Voldemort on my ceiling and it’s a screenshot of a really shitty like flash scene where he’s standing in front of a green screen and he’s screaming at the camera and it’s been on my ceiling since 2022

i have a deflated balloon that’s attached to my wall that is collecting so much dust (also been there since 2022)

I have 7 street signs

i have to listen to music on an mp4 player or a discman since school has banned phones now (shout out nats.)

I have I THINK 11 mcr shirts???.?

I have a custom made mcr blanket too hehehhee

I think my cat just brought in an animal hold on

ok update I think I’m just hearing things but I closed my door anyways

oh my cat is also named frank after frank iero

my other cat is named blackstar because I was 5 and my sister liked warrior cats but we can pretend it’s like the album by David Bowie or the song by radiohead

[wolflover2426]

To Cause Some Chaos, As A Treat

AN: Just wanted to write something silly and based on one of my prompts that I made a while ago, here’s the post

Shadybug groaned, kicking her feet as she sat atop a rooftop. It was nighttime so she was able to blend in for the most part. Hawk Moth was getting annoying and she wanted to let out some steam after the last battle by taking a stroll. A thump interrupted her from her thoughts.

She didn’t turn around, “You aren't as sneaky as you think you are, kitty.”

Claw Noir merely sneered as Shadybug playfully turned her head to give him a playful wink. He said nothing as he sat next to her. Shadybug merely pouted, her partner is probably in one of his ‘moods’ and by moods she meant, brooding.

She knew his powers were quite dangerous and always wondered what it would be like. An idea popped in her head as she smirked, leaning close towards him. His expression was shocked over the proximity but she could hear a faint hiss escaping his lips.

“Hey kitty, I have an idea!”

He motioned for her to continue, he had an odd look in his eyes which were mixed between intrigue and resignation.

“Wanna swap miraculous?” Shadybug grinned. “It would be an interesting practice.”

Claw Noir protectively wrapped a hand around his other where his ring sat. Despite the glare in his eyes, she could tell he was interested due to the fact his cat ears were pointed forward.

The duo moved in tandem by hiding behind a wall and detransforming. The exchange of miraculous went without a hitch.

Marinette grinned as she muttered, “Claws out!” And green light engulfed her and she looked down at her new costume. Her boots had spikes and were lined horizontally with a metal coat on the toe box to resemble a cat’s paw. She noticed that she now has a belt lined with tiny spikes hanging loosely around her waist and seems to sway with each movement she makes. She now wears a leather jacket and had two pockets with zippers, the sleeves had a ripped-like aesthetic which definitely made her feel quite like a punk.

“Hmm, not bad.” She smirked as she curled her fingers to see the razor sharp claws. “Guess that makes me Cruella Noire.”

Then, her partner emerges through the shadow. It was interesting to see him in her colors and see the way it fitted through his figure. He had pads around the shoulder, his hair had traces of red and was a bit more tame than usual, he had collar but mixed with spikes are flat circles that resemble ladybugs but the colors were inverted.

Cruella Noire merely send him a smirk, “Well, I think you should keep the look.”

He said nothing and his arms were crossed. Aaw, was he pouting? She couldn’t help but stifle her giggle at seeing him look like he’s a kid waiting for his mother to finish talking to her friend.

“Never knew you could act like a little child!” Cruella teased. “I think I’ll name you, Scarab!”

Scarab merely shrugged in response. He seemed unbothered but Cruella Noire could see the sparkle of interest in his eyes.

Cruella Noire was struck with an idea as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Hey Scarab! Wanna see something cool?”

Scarab tilted his head to the side and motioned for her to continue.

“This! Cataclysm!” She felt the dark energy pulsing at her fingertips as she slammed her hand into a nearby network pole and watched in awe as it crumbled to dust.

Cruella Noire smirked, looking over Paris and seeing the twinkling lights coming from buildings and poles and finally, the Eiffel Tower practically covered with lights. With that, she jumped into action and began destroying everything that seemed fun to destroy and causing screams of terror from Parisians that tried to flee from the crazy destructive cat villain.

Scarab watched the chaos unfold from the rooftop while drinking milk from his thermos.

[cdyssey]

Advocate

Prompt (@kalikoke​):

CW: Alcohol Mentions

AO3 Link

As they’re walking out to their cars, Barbara insists on going out to dinner that night to celebrate the reigning Read-a-Thon champ.

Her treat.

“Oh, so you’re takin’ me out on a date, huh?” Melissa grins widely, full of piss-and-vinegar. She loves to flirt with Barbara Howard—married woman, woman of God—thinks it’s fun to see her nearly bend over backwards trying not to accidentally flirt back. Meanwhile, the second-grade teacher has long made her peace with the fact that after nearly thirty years of friendship, the two of them talk like old lesbians who probably own a cat named Fred Astaire.

It’s just one of the occupational hazards of being work wives.

Somewhere along the way, they started to sound like actual wives too.

She likes that.

A lot.

Much more than she reasonably should.

They stop in front of Barbara’s car, a gray sedan that is meticulously washed every weekend. The windshield is completely white with recent sleet, and both of their breaths gather in pockets next to their faces.

“As a matter of fact,” Barbara only harrumphs, at once pompous and playful, a teasing glint in her eyes, “I am. Wear something befitting your winner status.”

“I got a new thong from Victoria's Secret the other day?” She immediately suggests, arching a positively lecherous brow. “Red. Matches my hair ‘n everything.”

Melissa tells herself that it doesn’t mean anything to her when Barbara visibly swallows at these words, when her dark pupils dilate, when the heavy binder in her arms abruptly slips from her grasp and onto her knee, causing her to cluck at Melissa like a mother hen.

“Lord Almighty! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” The other woman moans, rubbing her leg as Melissa bends down to retrieve the binder, snickering silently.

“Yeah, and everyone else too,” she replies in her most suggestive voice.

“Melissa!”

But the second-grade teacher just laughs and laughs—and she carefully ignores the way Barbara’s cheeks have flushed—and she laughs.

This is all she ever feels comfortable asking for, these infinitesimal moments with Barbara Howard, snatched from the relentless march of time. She cups the nanoseconds in her palms just to hold them, if even for a little bit—which is precisely how long that a moment lasts anyway.

There and then gone, lived and then a fragmentary relic of the past with all the rest.

But, Jesus, how they kiss her fingertips so gently—these moments, these relics, these precious nanoseconds—dusting them, like falling snow.

—

A few hours later, they’re sitting across from each other at a booth in Mamma Mia’s, a relatively new and upscale pizzeria that used to be a laundromat a couple of years ago until the feds finally figured out it was another front for the Philly Mob. (None of Melissa’s idiot cousins were involved this time, thank God. Even they weren’t stupid enough to launder money in a goddamn laundromat.)

All of the washers and dryers and probable bloodstains were removed a few years back, and a yuppie couple has since gutted the rather sizable space, remodeled it, and turned it into the talk of the town. Barbara, completely unaware of its history, has been begging to try it out for lunch sometime. 

She’s heard that their salads are excellent.

And Melissa, entirely aware of its history, has always entertained the proposition with a secretive chuckle at the thought of her very proper friend unwittingly stepping foot into a building where at least two men have definitely died.

Yeah, sure, Barb. Let’s go.

Which is how they end up here for dinner, blissfully sipping on their Merlots as they wait for their waitress to come back and take their order. Melissa is indeed wearing something befitting her victory over Janine—a short, green dress with sleeves that billows out around her wrists—but she thinks Barbara has her beat, so elegant in a teal blouse and black vest. Her fitted slacks—also black—accentuate the shapely curves of her hips.

Melissa appreciates the way her friend looks.

(Again, much more than she decently should.)

“You know,” Barbara begins without looking up. She’s been busy scanning the menu for the past few minutes, her readers delicately perched on the bridge of her nose. Melissa’s own menu is still on the table, unfolded and untouched. “I didn’t get to have one blessed slice of pizza today. My kindergarteners were simply voracious.”

“Mine too,” Melissa chortles, recalling how she’d had to tell at least five kids not to chew so fast. They were gonna get indigestion! “And I gave my leftovers to little Benji.”

Sweet kid, Benji Andrews—the youngest in a family of seven.

There sometimes isn’t enough food to go around at his place, so she and Barbara—(who’d had Benji in her class two years ago, and they'd both had several of Benji's siblings)—worked out an agreement with the lunch ladies to make sure that he gets sent home with extra meals a few times a week. 

“Ah, that’s my Melissa,” Barbara murmurs fondly, her gaze flicking upwards from the glossy foldout.

“Yeah, well, you would have done the same, ya schmaltzy gagootz,” she readily deflects—never one to accept unadulterated praise without a fight—but even still, she can’t help but smile at the quiet intimacy of being called Barbara's own.

Damn her and God bless her, she always knows how to tease the softness right out of Melissa.

“Oh!” The older teacher suddenly gasps, glasses slipping a little down her nose. “Shame on me—I almost forgot. Melissa, would you like me to call out some menu items for you? There’s a spinach-ricotta calzone that might have your name on it.”

And Barbara glances at her perfectly unopened menu then, apology flashing in her eyes, but Melissa only shakes her head. She’d taken one look at the front of the pamphlet, seen its kookily stylized typeface, and quickly placed it down before any of the letters started doin’ any funny business.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says firmly. “I looked at their menu online before we got here, and I'm fine if you just wanna share a pizza."

“Are you sure?” Barbara frets, conscientious about her reading struggles—always—from the very moment she found out about them some two decades ago when she was the first person to ever realize that Melissa only rarely peruses menus at restaurants.

And that’s only if the font is just right or if there are helpful pictures or if there’s not too damn much happening on the page at one time.

Before the Internet really took off, and Melissa didn’t have a reliable way of checking a menu before she went to a restaurant she was unfamiliar with, she’d just ask the waiter for the specials and choose one that sounded the most appetizing to her—far too humiliated to spend the necessary time trying to decipher a block of text that almost looked comprehensible to her. She didn’t have the luxury to chisel the individual words out, unit by unit, as she did at home with her books. The someone sitting across from her was unfailingly impatient. Her siblings. Some of her antsier friends. Her own ma. 

Joe.

He got so freaking annoyed when she took forever to order, even though he knew she had a hard time with menus.

He just swore up and down that she needed better glasses.

But Barbara, from the very moment she found out, approached the matter far differently than her ex-husband, which is to say with the same determination and kindness that governs most of her actions. She suggested that she could read some parts of the menu aloud for Melissa—so as to provide her with options—and for years upon years, she’s done so every time they’ve tried a new restaurant together.

Melissa hated that at first.

Hated that her weakness had been seen and so thoroughly identified by another.

Hated that someone would ever have the guts to call her out on it.

Hated that all of her dozens of coping techniques were stunningly powerless against a goddamn laminated piece of paper.

Hated that it was so obvious if anyone cared to notice.

Which the kindergarten teacher absolutely did.

But then again, Barbara notices a lot of things about Melissa, even the all-too-vulnerable details that she refuses to articulate aloud.

She notices baseball bats firmly taped under desks and irrational fears having to do with ever facing away from a door. She notices new scrapes on her knuckles from bar fights and dark shadows turning circles beneath her eyes after restless nights. She notices when Melissa is having trouble with dinner menus and eighty-paged curriculum updates and legalese from divorce papers that get served to her two days before her fifty-fifth birthday.

And yes, she once hated all of that—Barbara's keen eyes and Barbara's annoying inability not to intervene.

Barbara's hero complex.

And Barbara's pity.

Melissa hated the pity most of all.

But time and trust and her repeated exposure to her friend's particular way of being in the world have ultimately softened her initial understanding of this point, have made her come to terms with the fact that Barbara Howard doesn’t exactly pity her when she reads menus aloud to her, when she sends her emails in big, uncrowded fonts, when she helps her mark up stupid administrative packets with their stupid, tiny text.

She accommodates her.

And this is to say that she loves her.

“I’m positive,” she nods vigorously, well-aware that it takes a lot of verbal and physical gesturing for her friend to ever drop something. She doesn't necessarily want to talk about her insecurities right now—has had to think about them a lot these past few days with Maya, dredging up so many memories—but she damn well won't be responsible for Barbara feeling bad about herself because of them too. “I’m covered tonight.”

As to be expected, though, Barbara, still holding on to her guilt with a frown, sighs deeply.

“You shouldn’t have to be, though,” she insists, vaguely waving her menu around. “It’s absolutely absurd that no one considers how hellacious this font can be on the eyes.”

“Hah!” Melissa snorts, propping her chin up on her fist. “I know you’re angry when you start pullin’ polysyllabic words outta your ass.”

“I’m not angry,” Barbara sniffs (clearly angry). “I’m just disappointed in the lack of accessibility.”

“You should write an op-ed for the Times.”

“Melissa,” she pouts, now finally placing the menu down, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m being utterly serious.”

And Melissa readily softens, knows that every word is true. Barbara cares so much about making sure that the world is a just place—for her students, for her family, for Melissa herself.

There’s a wheelchair accessible ramp at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School not because some egghead at City Hall gave a rat’s ass.

But because Barbara Howard is a goddamn amazing teacher who fought for it.

There's a reason why she's the best of them all.

“Yeah, I know,” she smiles sadly, impulsively reaching over and offering her upturned palm, an olive branch. But she waits, with remarkable patience, for the inevitable moment when Barbara unbends her arms and takes it, interlinking their fingers together over the checkered tablecloth. She squeezes once and desperately wishes that they could stay like this forever, suspended in time, connected by touch, but the elegant ring on Barbara’s fourth finger shimmers in the light from the tabletop candle.

And so she lets go in the end.

She always does.

(Relics and nanoseconds.)

“I gotta say, I'm... disappointed too,” she goes on with a heavy sigh, pulling her now free hand through her hair. “Had a talk with one of my kiddos today whose parents won’t let her get tested for dyslexia."

“Oh, Melissa,” Barbara murmurs, understanding dawning in her eyes, gentle and profound care. Her best friend knows the very specific way that this situation hits close to home.

It’d been a matter of time for Melissa’s ma. 

Or, well, for the lack of it more accurately.

She had five children all under the age of ten to take care of, and she didn’t have the energy to wonder why her eldest daughter sucked at reading beyond thinking that she just wasn’t trying hard enough. 

How hard, after all, could it be to read Dr. Seuss?

“I taught her one of my tricks—y’know, highlighting the first parts of words,” she adds quickly, as though to blow past the sentimentality of everything, of it all, “but it made me sad for my kid t’think that she doesn’t have an advocate…”

Maya's parents had been afraid—afraid for their child to get a label, afraid for her to be different, afraid for her to be perceived as less than.

She'd kinda wanted to key their car after that disastrous conference, but she also gets it—she really fucking does.

“She has you,” Barbara immediately says, adamant, adoring and so perfectly convinced. “You were her advocate today. You were there for that baby girl in a way that she will never forget.”

Melissa blinks rapidly, unable to stop a lump from rising to her throat as she suddenly recalls Mrs. Myrick, the teacher who had given her that book about a sad child who was also different all those many years ago. 

She’d sat with Melissa in the hallway and taught her how to steady a highlighter against a page without messing things up.

But even if you do mess up, Melissa, the teacher had murmured, brushing a stray curl behind the then six-year old’s ear, that’s perfectly okay too.

You’re enough, Melissa, she finished, soft and so kind. You're always enough.

“I’m so proud of you,” Barbara intones in the exact same cadence some fifty-odd years later, eyes gleaming in the dim lighting of the restaurant, radiant with quiet affection.

Melissa falteringly opens her mouth to say something then, to tell Barbara thank you.

For reading menus aloud to me.

For making sure the school has a wheelchair ramp.

For not pitying me.

For loving me.

For always being in my corner.

For never once betting against me.

Other people have me?

Well, I have you.

You’re my advocate.

And I love you.

But their waitress comes up to them then, a slight, young thing who might be Kit or Kat according to the slightly distorted name tag pinned on her chest, and she’s asking if they know what they’d like to eat. So she closes her mouth again, the words dying away on her tongue.

“A pizza then?” Barbara asks, a smile rising to her plump lips. “To celebrate the fact that you’ve taken the prize home once again, Ms. Schemmenti?”

“Oh, hon,” she smirks, easily shifting back into utter asshole mode. “How can you say that when I haven’t even introduced you to my folks yet?”

“Girlfriend!” Comes another scandalized groan, Barbara pinching the bridge of her nose. “Now is not the time!”

And Melissa laughs with all her belly as Barbara hastily explains to the waitress that they're not dating, they're just very good friends—(which somehow sounds even gayer)—and Melissa is merely being facetious. And she doesn't do anything to refute her, just savors the moment, reveling in the blush that has delicately darkened the skin around Barbara's nose.

[derangedanomaly]

HERE IT IS!! My boy!!

Masterlist

*My* KILLER SANS FACTS

His other (much more used) nickname is Blade!

Owns a cat (secretly). The cat's name is Gummi.

Deals with his trauma by joking about it lmao.

Makes fun of everything and everyone.

A jokester

Likes to read 18+ magazines 💀

Flirting with anyone he finds attractive.

Shortest of the Bad Sanses lmao

Likes to talk.. a lot. He'll be literally yapping all the time.

Likes to tease people.

Enjoys cross dressing :D

Feels like an outcast in his team. Dust's best friend is Horror, and well...Nightmares not really the type to get buddy-buddy with someone 😭

Wants to use guns, actually, but cannot for the life of him use them right.

One time crashed a car in the living room. (Nightmare was furious)

An alcoholic. Likes all kinds of booze. (But mostly energetic drinks)

Has insomnia.

Unemployed 💀

*+separate pictures*

[salstray]

@killerspinal

jokes on you i cant be stopped

also please excuse all the dust and hair my cat sheds like a madman and honestly- so do i. and i've been v lazy lately with cleaning it all off. i have no excuse~

warning- this is long and i explain all their names also because i'm insane and its 2 am <3

FIRST OFF!!! This is my halloween store rat! His name is Bertrand - he is named after a dnd character from one of the first ever Dnd podcasts I ever listened to (Rusty Quill gaming my beloved) also shout out to lego Gandalf- i cannot for the life of me get that fucking HAT to click onto his head so it falls of constantly. (also if you look closely- his arm si also about to fall out of its socket. I'm doing my best over here-)

This is Smug!! (Baby Smaug, I love Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit) he is clipped to my dice jail for when I dm my own DnD games. He guards the naughty dice. I bought him at the local ren fair for like 5 bucks <3

Terrance! From the same halloween store as Bertrand! He was 25 cents <3

Graith!! My gargoyle <3. Also proof that it's almost 2 in the morning RIP (fun fact- he is named after a monster fucker story i read years ago where the MC banged a gargoyle in a cave somewhere. his name was Graith, so i stole it for my desk buddy)

three of the 4 skulls (wow my desk is SO GROSS. I gotta clean it tomorrow i'm so sorry) Sheila, Rodney, and Timothy! A raccoon, a turtle, and a... bat, I believe. (he's still in his plastic cause i was too damn scared of pulling him out of it without breaking him so he lives like that forever)

Fredrick~ (i used to be a big fan of My Drunk Kitchen and if you watch the very early episodes, Hanna Hart is always going Fredrick~? and that's what I call him and how I say his name. He is wearing a hair tie cause I'm always loosing them and he keeps them safe.)

The last of the skulls and of my lil friends! This is a rat skull, I'm p sure, and his name is Markus~ (don't think I had a reason for this one but I think of the name Markus and I think Detroit Become Human which I thgouth was a cool as fuck game so, probably after him!)

[nixylubouv]

Love Potion (2)

A continuation of this snippet, as requested! I should really name the characters by now.....

**********************************

Perched on a step stool, Witch wiped a glass clean with peace of mind. Her business had been going very well recently. The rich clientele she catered to liked to gossip at their lavish parties, and her reputation had spread. Deepest desires, impossible dreams. Anything for a price. 

Ah, that was not necessarily true. She did of course have a moral compass, albeit a shoddy and rusty one. But she did not assuage the dramatic rumors. Witch could admit it was rather fun having such a mysterious air about her. 

In the early mornings, the tavern was always empty and quiet. That was how the Witch liked it. Her mind wandered back to the client she had met some months ago now. Surely, he would have almost run out of the potion. She liked to call the concoction a Love Potion in her arrogance, but it was only a poor imitation. Real love was impossible to condense, mix up, and brew into a liquid. 

Just as she was reminiscing, the door flew open without warning. 

“Witch! I have come to make another exchange!” 

Witch, in a display of great eloquence, yelped and stumbled off her step stool straight onto the floor. 

Silence. After a moment, Villain’s face popped up over the bar and into view of the Witch who lay flat on her back. Speak of the devil. 

Trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, she scrambled up. Red colored her pale cheek in splotches. “Can I help you, my lord?” 

The Villain looked past her, searching for someone. “Where is the Witch, child?” 

Indignant, Witch blurted, “I am not a child!” Then realizing that yelling didn’t help her cause, she cleared her throat. She repeated her question in the raspy voice she normally used when wearing her hood. “Can I help you, my lord?” 

The Villain’s eyes widened in shock, and the look of confusion on his face was almost comical. She knew what he saw. An unkept skimp of a girl, with hair a mass of knots and curls. “You’re Witch?” 

Witch brushed at the dust on her tunic and straightened her shoulders, attempting to appear more sure than she was. “Yes. A large cloak and a deeper voice is often enough to convince people that I am…..more older than accurate.” 

“Witch is a child?” 

“Hardly! I have already seen fifteen summers! And if I am a child, at least I am a child that can perform magic.” 

The last line seemed to resonate with Villain, and he quickly accepted the legendary witch’s true appearance. “Very well, child- Witch, I need more of the potion.” 

They both knew what potion he was talking about. Witch didn’t comment on his rudeness or the fact he did not make a prior appointment and instead nodded. “A moment please.” She turned and entered the backroom by ducking through a heavy curtain. There was a large canopy of clanging sounds before she returned, the familiar pink bottle in hand. 

Now that Witch had a moment to think, she realized Villain had broken through the enchantment on the door earlier. There was a reason that she was not wearing her cloak, the same reason why not even a soul was present at the Tavern in the mornings save for the stray cats that liked to wander in before coming storms. 

She didn't know how he did it, or that he was even aware the enchantment didn’t hinder him. Regardless, it was sufficient enough for her to take care and not offend him. She did not know his identity and did not care to find out. Witch preferred to stay away from the royal court and its cutthroat politics, and tried to avoid questioning her clients in too much detail. 

Climbing up a chair, she plopped the potion in front of Villain. As he eagerly picked it up, she examined him. In the brighter light, he appeared more tamer. His hair was styled in a braid slung over his shoulder and his outfit was one of muted luxury. She enviously eyed his fitted jacket, the navy shade accented with gold just happening to be her favorite blend. 

Witch propped up her chin with her hand, returning her attention to Villain’s expression. He was quite good at hiding it but she could tell he was more anxious than last time, not as self assured. His fingers curled around the bottle almost desperately. Finally, he glanced back up at her. “I need more.” 

Witch raised an eyebrow skeptically. “More? That alone will last five months. And if I remember correctly, you should still have at least a couple weeks left of the last one.” 

Villain shifted his weight and she could tell he was trying to remain calm. He ignored her question. “I need more. No matter the price.” 

“How much more, my lord? Surely I can’t give you a lifetime’s worth,” she quipped. The Villain remained silent. 

Oh no. He was serious. 

The Witch straightened up. “You know you cannot simply keep giving someone a potion like this continuously? Surely, your revenge has been fulfilled by now!” 

The Villain didn’t get angry like she had thought he would, instead appearing defeated. 

“It’s not revenge. I do not want revenge anymore.” He closed his eyes. “I just want….things to remain as they are now.” 

“I see.” A spark of understanding flitted across her mind. Love potions were a tricky bunch, and Villain had clearly been caught up in its snare. Her inkling from the first exchange was right. The illusion of love was sometimes just as addicting as the real thing. But instead of water, it was like drinking poison to quench the thirst. 

She glanced at the door, where broken shards of invisible enhancement’s power fluttered in the air and shuddered. 

“I don’t have any more ready at the moment. This was my last one.” She tried for a smile, banking on her rarely used young age to lower his guard. She reached out and patted the back of his hand in consolation. “But I shall make as many as you need. You may return when this potion is running low.” 

The Villain was relieved to have a guarantee. “Yes. Yes, of course. You have my eternal gratitude.” He placed an ornate dagger in front of her. It took all the Witch had to keep from gasping. Even a single gem embedded in its hilt was worth ten times more than what he had paid before. 

This time, she waved and smiled at him as he left. And this time, he returned the smile. After Witch was sure he was long gone, she pulled out the bracelet she had swiped off of him earlier. A flimsy, ribbon of a thing. She recognized it for what it was for. A lover’s token. And a way to locate Villain’s intended target. 

She reentered the backroom, walking past a shelf filled to the brim with glittering pink bottles. Damn her stupid, shoddy, rusty moral compass.

[giggly-squiggily]

Hardened Criminals (Hell's Paradise)

Heyo! I'm back at it again writing Hell's Paradise jakeajrjekarjk

So! A little fun fact about this one- I actually started it WAY back before the anime was announced. This and a Ler!Chobe fic but we'll get there when we do. Anywho- I wanted to write Yuzuriha again because I love her and here we are! I hope you like it!

This takes place around Ep. 5 of the anime/Ch. 8 of the manga. Also I got Genji and Senta's placing mixed up when I first wrote this but I'm too far gone to fix it so we're just gonna roll with it ALRIGHT HERE WE GO! :D

Summary: Gabimaru and Yuzuriha are left alone for 10 minutes. Shenanigans ensue and Sagiri starts to wonder just what she got herself into.

Sagiri could barely remember where she was. Nor could she remember what she was doing.

One minute she was standing among the group, the next the ground was suddenly very close. The last thing she heard was Gabimaru calling out her name.

Wait…

“Gabimaru!” She sat up in a panic, instant regret settling in as the world spun. From his spot nearby, Senta startled, nearly dropping his book. “Oh! Sagiri, good morning! Well- I think it’s morning. For all we know it could be the afternoon!”

“Where…where are we? Where’s the prisoners?” She asked, Senta’s ramblings doing nothing to help her disorientation. She pressed a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. No fever- that was good. “What happened?”

“You were poisoned. Turns out those butterflies we fought off earlier carried a toxic dust that-” Her glare cut him off, and he sped up quickly. “Erm- you were knocked out. We took you here to rest and recover. The prisoners are outside-”

“You left them alone?” She started to stand, wavering before making her way towards the opening of the space. “Senta, with all due respect, that was a foolish move! We have to keep an eye on them!”

“Sagiri, please sit down. You look as if you’re going to pass out again.” Senta walked with her, not making any moves to touch her but keeping pace. “The criminals are fine- Sir Genji is with them.”

“Still, it’s my responsibility to watch my prisoner. What if-” The sound of voices cut her off, one in particular she recognized immediately.

Gabimaru.

He sounded…panicked.

“What’s going on?” She quickened her pace, running out to the voices. They got louder, Yuzuriha’s mixing in the shouts. In the distance, she found Genji standing by with his arms crossed. “Sir Genji. What’s happ-”

She followed his gaze.

And found herself stunned.

~~~

Ten minutes earlier

“Ugh, I’m bored!” Yuzuhira groaned from her hammock, stretching out like a cat as she stared off into the bright blue sky. “Entertain me!”

Gabimaru, who was currently at work making their meal for the day, shot her a glare. “If you're bored, find work. There’s plenty to do.” He replied, his hands carefully forming each round of ration. “Mend some clothes.”

“Eh. Senta’s better at that than me.”

“Find a water source?”

“Already did- two miles out from here.” She pointed halfheartedly towards a random direction.

“Help out with the meal?”

She rolled over to face him, making a face at the mush he grounded up. “Eh. I’ll lose my appetite.” Still, she climbed up and walked over, plopping down ceremoniously beside him as he carried on his task. “Really, I’m so bored! And Mr Stoic over there won’t talk to me at all!”

If Genji took any offense to her comment, he didn’t show.

“See? He’s like a statue!” She leaned in on her elbows and pouted, fluttering her eyelashes. “Why not take a break? Play with me for awhile, Gabi~”

“I’m married. Don’t make me twist your arm again.” He replied, unfazed. Yuzuriha huffed.

She tapped the ground around her. Tapped her legs. Tapped his legs. Picked up a stick. Drew random pictures in the dirt. Stood and sang a song so lewd it would make even the most serious of the Asaemon blush.

Not even a flinch from either man before her. They had perfected the art of pretending she wasn’t there.

“Ah, this is boring!” She sat back down, once again leaning on her elbows as she watched Gabimaru finish up the mixture. Curiously, she reached out and poked his arm.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, so that does get me a reaction?” She grinned, poking his arm again.

The shinobi eyed her, going back to ignoring her. She poked his arm repeatedly. Pretended to stab him. Took her dirty stick and tried to draw on him. “Man, you’re like a statue too!” She grinned, dropping the stick lower and jabbing him in the waist just to see.

The small ninja nearly dropped his ration.

There was silence.

“Yuzuriha…” He glared, putting the ration down just as she poked him again. Another jump, another yelp. “Stop that!”

“Are you ticklish?” She dropped the stick and aimed higher, poking his ribs. He practically volted at that. “Heh, you’re like a cat getting sprayed!”

“I’m not a cat- ah! Back up! Back up-gah!” Gabimaru scooted back on his hands as she followed, poking repeatedly. “Oo, you’re so jumpy! It does tickle that bad, huh? She boldly curled her hands against his sides, laughing in delight when he somersaulted away. “Aww, where’ya going?!”

“Away from you- Stahay back…!” He got into a fighting stance, glaring daggers at the kunoichi before him. “Don’t push me, Yuzuhira…”

“Oo, whatcha gonna do?” She cooed, getting into her own battle stance, eyes dancing. “Is the big bad hollow scared of a few tickles?”

~~~

“They’re…they’re having a tickle fight.” Sagiri blinked, staring ahead.

Sure enough, Yuzuhira was sitting on the small ninja, her fingers flying across his belly and ribs as he struggled beneath her. The panicked yelling she heard earlier turned out to be laughter; Gabimaru struggling to fight off her hands as he howled in mirth. “Gehehehehhehehet oohoohoohoohohoff! Aheahhahahahahaaha!”

“Aww? Is someone too ticklish for his own good? Hm?” Yuzuriha leaned in so she was nose to nose with the giggly boy, her hands making short work of his lower ribs and causing him to squeak. “I bet I can make you scream, Gabi~ I wanna hear you scream out for mercy.”

“Screhehehehehhhew yohohohoohohhou wihiihiihihihtch! Gehahahahhahaha!” The tiny shinobi cried out, trying to pull off her hands. Even in his vice grip however, he proved ineffective. “Gehehehheheheht ohohohoohohohff meehhehhehehe!”

“Oo, now you’re done for! Just who the hell are you calling a witch?” Yuzuriha shoved her hands into his armpits, making him spasm and cackle. “Oo, bad spot?”

“They’re…having a tickle fight?” Sagiri spoke slowly, as if she woke up in a dream. Maybe she was still asleep after all.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Genji shook his head before standing, turning to leave. “If you’re well enough to stand, you’re well enough to watch them. I’m going to scope out the area.”

“Wait- Sir Genji…and he’s gone.” Senta sighed, pushing up his glasses before turning back to the sight alongside Sagiri. “Should we…erm-stop them?”

Almost immediately, Sagiri’s chance to reply was cut off by Yuzuriha’s scream. The scene had changed; Gabimaru had flipped them over, his own hands flying over her waist, never straying away from the fabric. “This will teach you, you wicked woman!” He declared, a rare grin pulling at his lips as Yuzuriha screamed like a banshee, clawing at his arms as she laughed.

“YOHOOHOHOHU SUHUUHUHUCK! AHEHAHHAHA SAHAHHAHAGIHIIHIRIN SAHAHHAHVE MEHEHHEHEHE!” She cried, feet kicking in the dirt. Sagiri jumped at the sudden call for action, blinking. Should she…?

“No, help me! She’s wicked!” Gabimaru called over, reaching back and giving the Kunochi’s thigh a squeeze. Yuzuriha let out an honest to god pig snort. “Pfft- holy crap do that again!”

“I don’t think we need to worry about them killing each other, still...” Senta didn’t look like he was making any moves, meaning it was up to Sagiri to resolve this. Sighing, she walked forward, rolling up her sleeves.

“Very well. Hang on just a moment.”

“What? Oh you’re gonna help me-hehehehehehehehe!" Gabimaru shot up with a yelp as Sagiri pressed her fingers into his sides. That was all Yuzuriha needed. With a flip and a twist, she had Gabimaru- and by extension Sagiri, on the ground. Target abandoned, she attacked, hands flying everywhere.

“Ah! Noohohohohoho, not agahahhahahain!”

“Ah! Yuzuriha! Let me up!”

“Ahahaha! Got you two now!”

Senta smiled behind his book, laughing softly when Sagiri let out a shocked squeal- Yuzuriha had found her tickle spot along her shoulder blades. Taking a seat where Gabimaru abandoned his attempt at cooking, he picked up where he left off, watching fondly as Yuzuriha and Gabimaru made a temporary alliance in tickling the stoic swordswoman.

“I think- even in the gravest of settings- a little laughter is nice.” He spoke to no one, lost in thought as he carried on the camp chores.

Thanks for reading!

[solarpiggeh]

Introducing Team ORCT (Orchid)! I did a lineup for my RWBY OCs and their updated designs!! :D I also changed some of their names and details about some of their semblances, so if you're interested I'll include everything below!

Ophelia Rouge (she/her)

An overly confident ram faunus, leader of Team ORCT, and Rica’s girlfriend! Ophelia’s from Mantle, but moved to Vacuo to attend Shade academy. She loves strategizing/planning, as well as a good challenge, so the fact that her own semblance has a limit of uses before affecting herself only adds fuel to her brainstorming, which allows her to patiently observe her opponent while keeping her cards close to the chest before making a move.

Semblance: Contagious Yawn

Her yawns create a bubble that causes a target to fall asleep when popped near them. The amount of time the target sleeps depends on Ophelia’s aura. If her aura breaks while using her semblance, then she risks falling asleep instead!

Weapon: Dust projection worry ring

She has a ring on both hands embedded with ice, fire, rock, and electricity dust that projects a shepherd’s axe made out of whatever dust is being used!

Fairy Tale Inspiration: Little Bo Peep

Rica Venetus (she/her)

An eagle faunus from Mistral who moved to Vacuo to attend Shade Academy. She can give a mean punch and the best hugs, and also Ophelia’s girlfriend! She's a people person and is very observant and sensitive to other people’s feelings - could this be heightened due to her semblance? Either way, if you’re ever struggling, Rica is the best person to help.

Semblance: Shared Sight

Allows her to bond to at most 3 people at a time, no matter how far they may be, to let them see her POV or vice versa!

Weapon: Multi-Use Dual Blades

Dual blades combine to make a double bladed glaive by connecting the bottom of the handles with gravity dust. When in dual blade form, they can also bend resembling a boomerang

Fairy Tale Inspiration: 'The Griffon' fairy tale

There wasn’t really much for me to work with inspiration wise, but the griffin’s main purpose in the story is so the peasant’s youngest son can retrieve a feather from him. With that in mind, I decided to have a sort of feather motif to her faunus attribute and the shape of the blades to her weapon

Clementine Dandy (she/her)

A soft spoken transfem donkey faunus from Vacuo who doesn’t have the best luck with making new friends (mostly because she never knows what to say), but she seems the most outgoing while in combat. She doesn’t get hot easily despite bundling up for her semblance while living in such a hot region - much to her teammates' confusion. Contradictory to her tendency to overthink when confronted with conversation, she’s painfully oblivious whenever thinking about herself.

Semblance: Cloth & Dagger

Manipulation of any article of clothing on her person for offensive/defensive purposes

Weapon: Revolver with dust bullets

Fairy Tale Inspiration: Donkey Skin Girl

Thistle Cheshire (they/them)

A fun-loving cat faunus from Vacuo, Thistle is best known for their dexterity, flexibility & ability to make anyone chuckle. They also have a big crush on Clementine, and of course - even though Ophelia and Rica think it’s obvious - Clem is oblivious.

Semblance: Surprise Party!

Allows them to teleport while giving off the image of a ribbon vanishing, and when they reappear bits of ribbon/confetti pop out with them! Limitations of their semblance include:

More aura is used when teleporting anywhere further than 10 ft. (any distance less than 10 ft. requires very little aura)

Over-reliance of semblance = fatigue and dizziness

Teleporting w/ someone is possible, HOWEVER, the amount of aura utilized is multiplied per extra party member.

Weapon: Dust-Infused Yoyo

Various yoyo tricks utilize fire, electricity, gravity, and hard-light dust to enhance the impact of their attacks/defend themself

Fairy Tale Inspiration: Cheshire Cat

For their semblance, I was inspired by the 1951 Alice in Wonderland film's version of Cheshire Cat when he vanishes while sort of leaving a trail of stripes. So I wanted to do something similar!