#it never stops being wild to me (in a good way) that folks want to put my art on their bodies

[souperluminal]

Hello, how would you react if I got rock wizards suitable replacement as a small tattoo?

I would be delighted!

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leased Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 5 ✿:+ : Wild Fire

1-2-3-4-_-6

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: NSFW themes MDNI, afab reader, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of death, mention of arranged marriage, mention of infant and parent death, blood, war, threats of violence, violence. 

Word Count: 3767

Since the riot the city was restless. 

You felt like the walls closed in on you, and for good reason. You understood the small folks' anger. You understood why they rioted. You understood why they threw shit at Joffrey, why they swore at him and his mother. 

But the constant threat towards Joffrey’s safety only grew. Making it near impossible for you to steal a moment with Sandor. And the eyes of your ladies made it even more impossible.  He was just as much on your mind as the Vale was. Although you never touched yourself at the thought of the Vale. 

Little had you known that Sandor had done the same. Spent any moment he could walking underneath your window. Checking if the candle light was burning still. Walking by your room more often, even when you slept. 

He’d stopped looking for any whores whom resembled you in the slightest. Although Tyrion might have picked up that habit. For Sandor, it was of no use even if the women looked like you, even if they looked exactly like you, they weren’t you. They didn’t have your scent, your softness, your sounds, or your eyes. He couldn’t do it, and his hand had not done justice ever since he felt the softness of your thighs gripped around his cock. Being away from you was harder than battle, but it was even more necessary to be away now that a battle was approaching. 

Most of the days were filled with women asking you about your engagement and avoiding everyone at any cost. 

You had gotten good at finding ways to sneak out of the sight of your ladies. You’d gotten even better at completely losing them. So that afternoon you decided to sneak away from them and get far enough anyway from them it would take them a good while to find you. 

With you newly regained freedom, you’d wandered the garden. You thought it might be the last time you could before it was a war torn battlefield.  

However your temporary isolation was soon disturbed by the voice of a man. 

“My lady.” Baelish greeted you.

“What’re you doing here?”

“You’ve no greeting to your uncle?” The title he bestowed on himself made you want to vomit. It was not incorrect, you supposed but it was chilling.

“Hello, what are you doing here?”

“Came to offer my support.”

“Your support? I see so have you turned my titles to me?” You raised an eyebrow and he let out a small chuckle,

“Afraid not, My Lady. But support your betrothal. It would seem your aunt, and my Lady wife, are not quite fond of the union.” 

“It is not like I’d a choice.” 

“Of course not. But when you are wed to the man who killed your father, what can you expect?” He said with a stomach turning grin

“What did you say?” You looked at him as if you dared him to repeat such nonsense. The man you were betrothed to would never have done such a thing. 

“Lord Tyrion stood trial for the murder of your father. Did he not tell you?” He said in a manner far too calm.

“You lie.” You said, almost like a hiss

“Never to you,” He had the audacity to touch your cheek.

“You would. You’ve stolen from me, who’s to say you’d not lie to me.” You moved backwards away from his touch.

“I am no thief, My Lady. Our King bestowed me with those titles. In times of war, the realm needs to have some kind of stability. A lady becoming head of such a great house? Well the lords of the realm might not be so supportive. Besides, your father would have wanted a man of experience to look after the Vale.” You scoffed at his insulting response and smiled at him with a furrowed brow, in awe of his audacity. “If your father had married you to myself, you’d still have your power.” Your smile was wiped away by that remark. But he walked off as two men walked towards you, 

One was tall, with dark hair and a beard, he was older and seemed much more confident than the shorter man next to him. A pale, brown haired squire who flashed a dimwitted smile your way.

“Lady (Y/N)?” The shorter man asked, 

“Who’re you?” You asked, your gaze fitting your unwelcoming tone

The shorter man's smile was gone in an instant and he stood up straighter as if to try to better impress you, “Pod-”

“Lord Tyrion wishes to be graced with your presence, my Lady.” The taller one interrupted. 

You huffed, then motioned with your hand to have them lead you. The taller man let out a dry chuckle whilst the shorter one’s lips pressed into a line and nodded as they led you on wards. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆

As you followed them into a private room, Tyrion sat at a desk with lots of papers that were inscribed with meaningless knowledge of the Coin in the realm. 

“What is it now?” You said, now furious by the knowledge you’d just received. The only reason you didn’t leap over the desk and kill him then was because you did not trust Baelish enough to know he didn’t lie. And didn’t want to do it in front of his Sellsword and squire.

“Aye, you were right, as feisty as she is pretty.” The tall one said through a chuckle. Your head turned from Tyrion to the tall man, your face filled with disdain. 

“Shut up” Tyrion snapped at him, “I am sorry, please come in. And you two leave us!” As he commanded the men, the tall one was still chuckling and the small one shot you another quick smile. As soon as they left your attention shifted back to Tyrion.. 

“I wanted to tell you that there have been arrangements for you to be stowed away deep within the Red Keep when war comes. You’ll be there with other women and children.” You simply nodded though your face was harsh, and angry. “You’ll be safe there, I swear.” He attempted to reassure you thinking that was the problem. When you didn’t lighten up at all he asked “Have I done something to upset you, My Lady?”

“I spoke with Baelish.” Your voice is cold.

“And you’re upset with that experience? Seems natural.” He attempted to jest, which was not wise.

“Why did he tell me you were tried for the murder of my father?” You stepped closer to him, he looked guilty. “I am sick of being held blindfolded, Tyrion.” He looked down, as if he was disappointed with himself and angry at Baelish. “You know things, things I should know!” You said almost crying out.

“I was tried for it-” You let out a sharp exhale, feeling yourself about to burst into furious tears, to which he stopped himself and tried to clarify “But I was not found guilty was I? I am not lying dead at the bottom of the Eyrie.” He stopped himself again, calming himself to help calm you, “I didn't do it.” He sounded earnest, genuine. You were a good judge of it.

“Tyrion, if I am to be your wife, please. I beg of you this. Honest truth. What happened to my father?” You tried your best to hold your composure.

“Poison. Tears of Lys. It was speculated by a Maester.” He said his eyes filled with remorse for you.

“Who by?” Venom in your voice raised. 

“No one knows. Your aunt believed it was me, but it wasn’t.” He shook his head, “It was believed that I or another Lannister had it done due to your father investigating the very claims Ned Stark was. Claims of the legitimacy of my sister's children. A subject I strongly suggest you do not speak of. However, a beheading is not an easy solution to rumors, but it was one they happily took. So poisoning seems out of character.” 

“Who do you think it was?” You raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious of his opinion.

“I don't wish to put such things in your mind.” He said and you rolled your eyes. 

“Please.” You asserted,

“It would need to be someone with such access to such a poison, and potential to gain from the death. And that person, could only be one person.” 

“Petyr.” You said, finally realizing it. “I’ll kill him.” 

“Then they shall kill you, my lady.” He got up and walked towards you, “I have no doubt that is your wish, and I no doubt you have the courage to complete it. But you should know, if you’re caught they’ll cut that pretty head off. Doesn’t matter if you’re married to me or not.” He said but you were hardly listening as you paced the room, looking at the ground, piecing things together finally. 

“That’s why he said those things…” You said under your breath, unaware that he’d heard you.

“What things?” He asked you in a whisper but it sounded protective, and his hand reached for yours, his face was concerned. 

“I should have married him, I'd still have my birthright.” You summarized. 

“Well if he said that, he either wants to fuck you or kill you.” He said, you looked at him with a disgusted and confused look. “Think of it, he requested your hand long ago and was rejected. He wants your birthright so badly he killed the man who rejected him, so you’d be in line to inherit. As soon as you are betrothed to someone else he steals it from under you anyways by marrying your Aunt. Who’s to say he wouldn’t have married you just to kill you to have it all for himself.” He said with that natural confidence he always had.

“And which do you want with me, to fuck me or kill me? You’re father betrothed us together because of my birthright, that isn’t lost on me.”

“Well, I did promise I would never harm you.” He said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “You always were an observant girl. Just as smart as you are pretty.” He said softly. It made your stomach flip. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

“I don’t understand it.” You said, teary eyed peering into the fastness of the mountains surrounding your castle. 

“You will one day, long from now. When you are a woman grown, when you’ve a Lord husband and sons of your own.” Your father said with a smile. 

“I won’t. Not even then.” You said, your face remained stoic but your eyes teared, water falling out of them and off your cheeks with each blink you took. Your father sighed, it was always a fight with you. “I won’t ever have a child.” You said more sternly. 

“Now, you are speaking of nonsense.” He said growing more agitated. 

“How could you possibly even think I could, ever, after all I saw that day?” You said turning to face him. “The blood and screams. My mothers last breath was a scream, and my brother’s a cry!”

“She was my wife and he was my son, Y/N. Do you not think I grieve for them too?”

“No I do not. Not when you marry her sister.” 

“Your mother, and your brother have died. It is a tragedy- a nightmare I wish to wake us both from but cannot. My heart has broken, but our name cannot die with them.” 

“Is that all you care of? The name?” You raised your furrowed brows.

“Our history books do not tell a tale of blood but of names.” He said sternly.

“I wish I could’ve been a son.” You shook your head, 

“I’d not wish for you to be a son.” He tried to reach his hand out towards you. But you backed away from him.

“Not for you, but for my mother. She’d be alive if it wasn’t for your pride.” 

“You speak out of anger, daughter.”

“I speak out of disgust, father.” 

You turned away from him. You didn’t hear from your father until that very night. He let himself into your room as you laid in your bed just half asleep. He pet the side of your head softly. You opened your eyes softly.

“Before your birth. Your mother delivered three children. All were born without breathing. When You were still in your mothers womb, I prayed every night to old Gods and the new for you to be healthy, for you to be alive. When you were born, I thanked them everyday. I still do.” He said softly as if to not fully wake you from your sleep. “The vale, the east, the gates of the moon must rest in the hands of a leader capable of keeping it safe. Capable of asking hard questions, someone headstrong, and wise. Someone capable. And you my daughter you are capable.” He said, with such devotion and love you’d hardly ever heard from him before. “It is a heavy burden but you are my daughter. My heir. I shall not live forever. One day you shall be the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, Lady of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale, and Warden of the East. No son born shall challenge it.” He said in a lower voice. “You are my daughter.” He stated once more before rubbing his thumb on the temple of your head and leaving you to rest.

You’d not responded. You simply allowed your tears to fall down your cheek. You wouldn’t be able to forgive him, but you would still love him. You’d be eternally loyal to him, just as he was to you. 

That was when you woke up. You often dreamt of memories. Ones of your mother holding you as a young girl, singing sweet songs to you. Memories of the Knights of the Vale teaching you to ride Lika when she was still young, like you were. Even the memory of holding your brother as he took his last breath. 

But this memory made your heart ache harder after realizing the man who killed your father is now the head of his house. And now you know, you’d have to avenge him. First however, you’d need an army. 

That day however would not have been the day to plan it, as there was another army knocking on your cages door. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

That day you were taken deep within the keep. Tyrion’s men who you now knew were Bronn and Payne escorted you there personally. 

As you entered the deep underground chambers of the Keep, you were taken aback by how small it was. Crowded by women, children, and babies. 

“(Y/N)” Cersei called towards you, you obeyed her call and stood in front of her as she was being poured wine. “Pour some for Lady (Y/N).” She said to the maid behind her. You could smell the wine emanating off of her. 

You took the wine, and took a long sip. 

“Are you frightened, my dear?”

“Nervous.” You said taking a breath after your long sip. 

“Wine will help with that.” She said, “Come drink, sit.” She said, throwing a pillow down for you, “Whom do you fear more for yourself or my brother?” You were taken aback by such a question, but not surprised by how drunk she was.

“Your Grace, I-”

“You don’t have to act, anymore, I understand it. To be betrothed to a man you don’t love I understand that well enough.” 

“Your brother is a good man.” You earnestly,

“Is he?” She smiled condescendingly into her glass as she sipped from it. “My advice, if he survives this. Once you are wed, have his baby. It is the only happiness life will grant you.” She said looking over at a woman holding her fairly newly born child in her arms. You looked over at the same woman with her babe. You found yourself feeling strangely empty at the sight. 

“I think I could be a good mother.” You said, almost blurted out, as you looked at the woman and her babe.

“You’d be a fierce one. You’re already too fierce for your own good, if you’d a little falcon in your nest you’d be even worse.” She said with a drunken smile. 

The words rung in your head. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ 

Meanwhile, 

Sandor entered a small area, filled with knights, gold cloaks, city watch, kings guards, all the kinds of men he hated. Specifically one, Bronn, who had a naked woman in his lap.

“Welcome friends.” Bronn called out as if to gain good will. “This rounds on me,”

He ignored his greeting, only giving him a scowl. He sat as he got himself a cup of ale, he drank most of it down wishing that it was stronger, he chugged the rest of it. 

“I don’t think he likes me,” Bronn said to the naked woman on his lap.

Sandor placed his cup onto the table.

“It's warm in here, we've got beautiful women and good brown ale and all you want is to put one of us in the cold dark ground, with no women to keep us company.” Bronn jested, 

“There’s women in the ground. I’ve put some there, so have you.” Sandor said with annoyance.

“Aye, but you’ve saved some ‘aven’t ya? Like that little blue bird my lord loves so much. Aye?” 

Sandor felt a heat rising in his chest hearing those words, but he was unwilling to show it. “You saved that bird from the mobs didn’t ye’? What man would go against his own King's orders, and fight his way through an angry mob, just for a gal? Hm? That makes you a great hero.” Bronn said as he drank. 

He hadn’t thought anyone would have questioned what he did for you in such a way. Especially not in front of an entire room of men. It felt like a challenge. “You think you’re a hard man?” Sandor said back, 

“Oh I know I am,” Bronn jested as he patted the woman on his lap. The men in the room laughed, but soon were silenced by Sandor's scowl that spanned over the room like a flood of cold water. 

“You like fucking, drinking, and singing. But killing, killings’ what you love most. You're just like me.” Sandor stood and towered over Bronn, “Only smaller.”

“Is that what you love most?” He asked, no doubt drunk with confidence. 

“Your Lord Imp’s going to miss you.” Sandor said as his hand met the handle of his sword.

Bronn stood with a sigh, “Aye, I suppose he will some day.” He said as his hand met the handle of his dagger. 

Just before anything could happen, the bells of war rang. 

“One last drink?” Bronn offered, to which with a gruff sigh Sandor gave in and accepted. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ 

While war raged on, you were oblivious to the horrors happening outside the walls of the Keep. 

Loras barged in calling to the Queen,

“What is it!” She snapped, 

“The imp has set blackwater on fire. Stannis’s ships are burning, but-” Loras’s tone shifted “His fleets have breached city walls.”

“Bring Joffrey to his chambers, now!” She barked at him, as Loras stormed off, unhappy with such a cowardly choice.

Cersei sat back in her chair, “I lied to you. Ser Illyn is not here to protect us. You want to know the truth? Stannis might take the city but he will not take us alive.” She said into her cup. 

You placed your glass down, you glanced at Illyn Payne who scowled at you. You wouldn’t have that be the last face you’d see. 

As Ser Loras entered the room once more, you stood and rushed to him, your hand touched his briefly as you ran out of the room. You could hear Cersei yell out “Let her go.” As you ran down the halls towards your chambers. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ 

As you entered your chambers you were content to find a corner of it to hide in til the war was over. If Stannis took the city, maybe he’d help you if you pledged your loyalties to him.  That was until you were startled by a large man you saw in the corner of your eye. Your large man.

“I’m leaving, I can’t stay here.” He said as he drank from a wineskin in the corner of your room.

You were startled, but that feeling subsided soon as confusion set in. Why wasn’t he fighting?

“What’re you doing in here?”

“You always ask that.” He said as he took another swig. “The cities on fire. Men, burning.” You began to realize how truly frightened he was. He stood and walked towards you closer and closer til he towered over you. “Do you want to go home?” His tone, gentle

“I don’t have a home.” You looked up at him with big eyes, and furrowed brows.

“I’ll make one for ya.” He rasped. Your face heated up as you imagined it. A small cottage, a large farm, you and him in simple clothes, sleeping in one bed. Maybe, even a babe in your belly, maybe not. But, what of your duties? The promises you swore to keep.

“I can’t betray my name. I can’t leave my fathers death unjusted.”  Your eyes tearing up as you spoke, he could see the glimmer of water sparkle over your big eyes.

“Cant or wont?” He grabbed onto your arm and his voice was slightly harsher.

“Can’t” You almost cried out, but you being you, you were unwilling to cry. He let your arm go.

“I’ll keep you safe. Safer than the men here can, safer than the dwarf can. Anyone looks in your direction, I’ll hang them by their own guts.” It was as if he was pleading. 

“I made an oath, long time ago but I made it to someone I love. I can’t leave the Vale like this.” 

He sighed, “I’ll take you North. To the Starks. They’ll get you that army you want. I promise I’ll get you there.” He said softly, his hand now grabbing ahold of yours.

“You can’t promise such a thing-” 

“I can- I will.” He assured me. He knew he would do anything for you. Anything to be near you.

You looked into his blood covered face. How the light casted a frightening shadow over his horrific appearance. To anyone else this would have been one of the more terrifying sights they’d ever seen so close to them. But to you, you were face to face with an angel. 

“Alright then.” You whispered, 

You're an angel, I'm a dog

Or you're a dog and I'm your man

You believe me like a god

I'll destroy you like I am

I'm sorry I'm the one you love

No one will ever love me like you again

So when you leave me, I should die

I deserve it, don't I?

I can feel it gettin' near

Like flashlights comin' down the way

One day you'll figure me out

I'll meet judgment by the hounds

People always gave me love

Others were never to blame after all

You believe me like a god

I'll betray you like a man

NOTE: Now that was a whole lotta shit huh? The next one will be a lot better. This one is def gonna be a really good transition to the next stage in this story and believe you me - its gonna be nutty… k love ya bye.  OH also yeah I did add a mitksi song what about it? RIP Sandor Clegane you would have loved mitksi’s new album.

[hikarry]

Please please please write Crowley saving Aziraphale from the library of Alexandria like you mentioned in the Caesar post! Please!

Sometimes following Hell's orders wasn't so bad.

Win Julius Ceaser to our side.

Easy! The bloke was practically with a foot in Hell anyway so Crowley just had to nudge from time to time and pretend like the man's rotten personality was all his doing.

Crowley liked life in court. There was always something to drink, and he could mostly lazy around not doing much without being disturbed.

And, of course, he could always go down and mingle with the common folk - Read Aziraphale - whenever he pleased. Cause of course the angel would be where a gigantic library was. It was the type of thing that would be a perfect trap for Aziraphale anytime.

"You are not seeing the grand picture, dear boy. This is most of humanities knowledge! All in the same place! For eternity. Being shared through generations of brilliant minds."

"Bit of a bad idea, if you ask me." Aziraphale stopped stocking some scroll and looked up at him, upset expression on his face. "No, listen, it makes sense: imagine you have some...precious stones you really don't want to lose. If you are stupid you will hide them all in the same place, but if you actually think about it, it would be smarter to hide some of them in different places. That way if some of them were stolen, you still had the rest."

"No one is going to steal the Library of Alexandria, Crowley."

"That was not my point. Having all this knowledge in the same place like a sitting duck is my point."

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and went back to stocking the scrolls.

"Did you just come here to complain?"

"No." Crowley crossed his arms over his chest, pretending to be as nonchalant as possible. "Do you want to have dinner? Same place?"

The angel thought for a couple of moments and, for a second, it almost appeared like he was going to decline, when he smiled up at him.

"Of course. I'll meet you when the sun sets."

The Civil War did throw a rock on his plans. Not because the restaurant was closed or because his time was filled, but because Aziraphale refused to leave the library no matter what. No one was permitted in without a good reason and, apparently, being Crowley wasn't a good reason.

Suddenly life at court became boring.

War this. Soldiers that. Can't humans just behave for a century or so? There's always something happening. And almost never something good.

He was bored and he felt lonely. Caesar was doing just fine at crawling his way into the pits of Hell without his help so maybe it was time to end this assignment...and be sent somewhere else. Which he could. And he should. But Aziraphale was right here. Last time they had been together was in Rome. He wouldn't confess it to anyone, but the last thing he wanted was to leave the angel behind. Not while he still had, technically, an excuse to stay.

Being a demon has some perks. You can see slightly better in the dark. You can hear noises apparently Humans cant. Your sense of smell was excellent. So quite faint smell of smoke didn't surprise him. They were amidst a civil war. There was always something or someone on fire.

But the Demon Crowley had something else no other demon had. Creativity. Creativity that could quickly borderline paranoia if he allowed his thoughts to run wild. Which he learned a long time ago to never do. So, even if a bad feeling crawled up his spine every time the smoke crossed his nose, he ignored it.

As the days passed, Crowley's unease grew despite his efforts to dismiss it. The scent of smoke lingered in the air like a persistent whisper, taunting his senses with its ominous presence. His usual nonchalant demeanor began to crack under the weight of uncertainty, a nagging feeling gnawing at the back of his mind.

He found himself stealing glances towards the library, where Aziraphale remained cloistered amidst the scrolls and tomes, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil outside.

One evening, as dusk descended upon the city, Crowley's fears materialized into a stark reality. The distant echoes of chaos grew louder, punctuated by the unmistakable crackle of flames devouring everything in their path. Men ran throught the streets with buckets in hand, all towards the same direction. Amidst the yells and whispers, Crowley caught the last thing he wanted to hear. Panic seized his heart as he tossed the goblet of wine somewhere, racing throught the streets towards the library, pushing random people from his path maybe a tad more stronger than he should.

It wasn't necessary to reach the library, many meters behind he could already feel the heat. The once majestic edifice now stood engulfed in flames, the inferno raging uncontrollably as tendrils of smoke billowed into the night sky. For a moment, Crowley was frozen in shock, his mind struggling to comprehend the devastation unfolding before him. Some men with idiotic little buckets tried to kill the flames, but it was less than useful. A group of women stood to the side, kneeling around a group of six dirty and injured men. Some were being cleaned with wet cloths and others were already being fixed up the best the women could in such short notice.

"Mr. Crowley!" His brain was a bit too offline for him to notice one of the women getting up from the group and walking in fast pace towards him. His eyes met hers, tears still spilling down her perfectly rosy cheeks. "What are you doing here?" She held him by the arms, squeezing them. He knew the woman, even though that information took a while to connect. Maris was one of the female students Aziraphale insisted in maintaining and probably the only one Crowley didn't find annoying.

He held her by the forearms, feeling how her petite body was trembling of both exhaustion and fear.

"Aziraphale." He squeezed her arms slightly, forcing her to focus and look up at him. "Where is he?"

Maris' breath got stuck in her throat as her eyes looked over Crowley's shoulders to the inferno of a library, still being consumend like a raging forest. He let go of her arms and turned around, already walking towards it.

"Mr. Crowley! Don't! It's not worth it anymore! It has been too long!"

He had never heard such nonsense from such a little soul.

Crowley ignored Maris' pleas, his determination overriding any sense of self-preservation. With each step he took towards the blazing inferno, the heat intensified, licking at his skin with searing intensity. But he pressed on, driven by a singular purpose: find Aziraphale.

As he drew closer to the library, the flames roared like a beast unleashed, devouring everything in its path with insatiable hunger. It wasn't Hell Fire, thankfully. But even normal fire could do a considered amount of damage to an angelic corporation. The air was thick with smoke, stinging Crowley's eyes and choking his lungs with every breath, so he decided to stop breathing.

Through the billowing smoke and flickering flames, Crowley caught a glimpse of a figure laying amidst the wreckage. It could only be Aziraphale. Carefully, Crowley turned him around just to find 5 or 6 big scrolls Aziraphale appeared to be holding onto against his chest with the might of God herself.

"Aziraphale?"

Crowley's heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside him, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to gently shake the angel's shoulders. He opened his wings, trying to keep the heat away from both of them. "Angel, wake up," he urged, his voice strained with concern.

Slowly, Aziraphale's eyes fluttered open, clouded with confusion and pain. He blinked up at Crowley, his expression dazed as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings.

"Crowley...?" Aziraphale's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"We need to get you out of here," Crowley replied urgently, taking a quick look around, before looking down at the pale angel below him, his mind racing. "Can you stand?"

Aziraphale attempted to rise, but a sharp intake of breath betrayed the pain that coursed through his body. Crowley cursed under his breath, realizing that Aziraphale corporation's injuries were more severe than he had initially thought.

"We can't stay here," Crowley insisted, his voice firm despite the panic that threatened to consume him. "C'mon."

With great care, Crowley wrapped Aziraphale's arm around his shoulder, taking on the majority of his weight as they stumbled through the smoldering wreckage of the library. The flames danced around them, their heat searing against Crowley's skin as they fought their way towards safety.

Together, they stumbled through the library, each step a test of their endurance as the heat pressed in on all sides. Crowley could feel Aziraphale's weight bearing down on him, the strain of their escape taking its toll on both of them.

With each passing moment, the flames seemed to grow closer, their tendrils reaching out hungrily to consume everything in their path.

Finally, they emerged from the burning wreckage, gasping for breath as they collapsed onto the ground outside. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the suffocating heat of the fire, but their ordeal was far from over.

Aziraphale was limp once again and keeping conscious was a game of roulette. They couldn't just stay there on the ground hoping Aziraphale would come back to himself. There was only one place they could go where Crowley could actually look after him.

Carefully holding the angel on his arms, he looked quickly around before opening his wings. It was night and most people were either locked at home or too worried with the fire, so he had a chance to get home without being undetected if he was careful with his trajectory.

When he was mere meters away from the house, he snapped his fingers and opened the door, trying to lose as little time as he could. Inside it was supposed to be dark, if it wans't the reflection of the flames that invaded the whole city.

Crowley tucked his wings away before stepping through the threshold, quickly walking to near the window where the bed was. Aziraphale was running a bad fever, and just now he noticed the burns on his face and down his arms. He wasn't an angel. He couldn't just snap his fingers and fix Aziraphale, so the human way it had to be.

Crowley gently laid Aziraphale down on the bed, taking care not to aggravate his injuries any further. He fetched a damp cloth and began to gently clean the burns on Aziraphale's face and arms, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked to ease the angel's pain.

Despite his best efforts, Crowley couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him. If only he had acted sooner, if only he had listened to the warning signs instead of dismissing them, perhaps they wouldn't be in this situation now.

As he worked, Aziraphale kept falling in and out of consciousness. When Crowley leaned over him, trying to take off the cloth hiding his bleeding chest, Aziraphale's eyes opened, half-lided, but looking up at him.

"Sleep, angel."

Aziraphale didn't answer. Instead, just closed his eyes and a stray tear ran from the left one, which Crowley was quick to clean with the back of his finger.

He cleaned the angel's chest. The only thing he could think about to help with the burns was ointment, but that would burn like true Hell Fire and Aziraphale appeared to be in pain enough...but, maybe, he should take the chance the angel was unconscious and just do it?

Screw it!

Crowley miracled the ointment and sat on the side of the bed. As soon as his fingers toutched one of the burns on Aziraphale's chest, the angel's hand snapped up, grabbing Crowley's hand by the wrist and pulling it away from him.

Crowley froze, his heart skipping a beat as Aziraphale's hand closed around his wrist with surprising strength. He met the angel's gaze, seeing the pain etched into his features despite the half-lidded eyes.

"Aziraphale, it's me," Crowley said softly, trying to reassure him. "I'm just trying to help."

But Aziraphale's grip only tightened, his expression clouded with confusion and fear. Crowley could see the struggle within him, the battle between his instinctual reaction and his trust in Crowley warring behind his eyes.

"Please, let me help you," Crowley pleaded. He could feel the burn of Aziraphale's skin beneath his fingertips, the heat radiating from the wounds.

For a moment, Aziraphale remained tense, his grip unyielding. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, his hand began to loosen, his fingers trembling slightly as they released their hold on Crowley's wrist.

Crowley let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging with the weight of it. Carefully, he resumed his ministrations, applying the ointment to Aziraphale's burns with a gentleness born of both necessity and affection.

When he was finally finished, he got up to wash his hands and grab another cloth, wetting it before walking back towards the bed, depositing it on Aziraphal'e forehead.

The angel's breathing was still ragged, but at least he wasn't bleeding on the sheets anymore and his expression seemed more serene.

Crowley sat by Aziraphale's side, watching over him as he drifted into a fitful sleep.

As the hours passed, Crowley remained vigilant by Aziraphale's side, his senses attuned to any change in the angel's condition. The fever seemed to ebb and flow, leaving Aziraphale restless and agitated one moment, and then peaceful the next.

It was during one of these fleeting moments of calm that Crowley found himself studying Aziraphale's face, the soft curve of his lips, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. And in that moment, Crowley realized something he had been reluctant to admit to himself before.

He cared for Aziraphale. More than he cared to admit. More than it was smart.

The demon put a new cloth on the angel's forehead and brushed his curly blond hair back with his fingers, leaning over him much without noticing. Aziraphale was completely out of it so...maybe? Crowley took a deep breath and, before he could find more than one argument to how idiotic he was about to act, he laid his head carefuly on Aziraphale's chest while his left hand stayed on the curls. He just needed a second. To think. To process the nightmarish night they had just been through. If he had arrived any later Aziraphale would have suffocated or burned out of his corporation. All because of some ridiculous scrolls.

"Stupid." He murmured, sliding his face up Aziraphale's chest and hiding it on the curve of the angel's neck, much without thinking. Aziraphale was unconscious, he would never know anyway.

With his eyes closed and the constant breathing of the angel against his ear, Crowley allowed himself to finally relax, closing his eyes. That didn't last long though, because all his body tensed up when he felt a hand on his short curls. He didn't move. Didn't breath. His mind rushing to try and find an excuse. But no questions ever came. Instead, Aziraphale let his face lean more against Crowley's, visibly still unconscious.

Crowley's heart raced as Aziraphale's hand gently caressed his curls, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. Despite the tension that coiled within him, Crowley found himself leaning into the touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he allowed himself to bask in the moment of intimacy.

For a fleeting moment, Crowley allowed himself to entertain the possibility that Aziraphale was awake and aware of his actions. That he was reaching out to Crowley in his own way, seeking comfort and solace amidst the chaos that had engulfed them. But deep down, Crowley knew that it was nothing more than wishful thinking.

As the night stretched on, Crowley remained by Aziraphale's side, his head resting against the angel's chest as they both drifted into an uneasy sleep. In the quiet of the room, the flickering flames outside casting dancing shadows across the walls, Crowley found a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in centuries.

There ya go! Sorry it took me a tad longer than it should have. I had a lot of inspiration, but didn't know which path to choose. Alas, didn't want to make it too long either. Hope it satisfies you!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Okay, so this one has been eating at me for years and I FEEL like the asshole even though everyone involved has never expressed that they think I was an asshole. I’m terrified about what the consensus will be, and either way I should probably talk to a therapist about this now that I’ve typed it out. This one is mildly sexual but I won't include like, details of that or anything.

So basically, years ago I (20 F) was dating this guy (19 ftm) with a LOT of issues. When we first started dating, I mentioned that a lot of his issues really echoed a lot of what my mom went through when I was growing up, and that he should probably see a psychiatrist/therapist. Sure enough, turns out he’s bipolar too! We found out because the psychiatrist prescribed medication for depression that has a notoriously bad effect on bipolar folks. He started cycling rapidly and it was a lot of strain on a new relationship.

Here’s where the assholery begins. Basically, I went to visit him and his family for the first time, and we were up late that night. He was having a bit of a rollercoaster of a night. He’d been crying over something personal, and then we were laughing over a movie, and then things started to get heated. I was really kind of uncomfortable because of the wild swing of the night, and while I was into it, I knew he had a history of lying to sexual partners about his comfort with sex.

I told him over and over again over the previous months that if he didn’t want it I didn’t want to either. No one likes having sex with a partner that isn’t into it. This night though, I stopped him several times to ask him if he was sure. And at one point he asked me why I kept stopping things, and I told him because he’d had a lot of emotions that night and I didn’t want to take advantage of that.

He told me multiple times that he was fine and he was good. Fast forward several months and we’re at a party playing some question game or whatever. Someone asked me about the best sex I’d ever had, and I mentioned that night because it WAS good. That’s when my partner turns to me and says he has NO MEMORY OF THAT NIGHT AT ALL. Like he’d been so out of his mind that he’d disassociated the whole night and doesn’t remember even being there, let alone sleeping with me. I mean, it sucks bad enough that he said this in front of all of our friends. He made a joke about “your best sex was during your partners mental breakdown lol.” We were ALL super uncomfortable for the rest of the night. Now, years later I still think about how horrific it is in hindsight.

Safe, SANE, and consensual right? On one hand, I know I’m not a mind reader and had no idea he was so out of it that night. But also, I knew he has lied to partners about his own comfort with sex before and I should have stopped him there. We’re no contact now, and I’m really glad to be out of that relationship for a whole host of reasons, but I still feel like there should have been some sort of sign or something I should have picked up on that would have stopped that from happening. I feel a little violated? Like not just physically but also like he really violated my trust that he would express himself maturely and make responsible sexual decisions.

He’s never said anything to me about being upset with the way things turned out. He’s never expressed hurt or that he thinks I was in the wrong. But there’s just something about this whole situation that makes me feel like I did something irreversibly terrible to someone else. So I guess I have to ask. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[wavernot4love]

wanted 2 make a post about some positive things that happened at iDKHOW Buffalo last night, because there certainly was good in there, for everyone involved, and i want to highlight/talk about that stuff!

i make these posts a lot for shows, mostly for myself so i don't forget, but others seem 2 enjoy them too, and i don't think last night's show should be any exception.

- first of all, OPENING BAND in the crowd!!! something i have never heard of dallon doing for that one before, and all things considered, i fully see why he chose to do it here as it fit the clear vibe of just wanting to be close with and sort of revel in the connection with the crowd - and the ability of that to make everything better.

there were no flamboyant theatrics like with visitation, just all of us singing together (it was also just anthony playing onstage), and homie stayed out with us for a long time - most of the song. i was also right up there which was nice.

(i'm just gonna put a keep reading thingy here you can click so this doesn't clog tags/folks' dash due to being long)

was just super sentimental. dallon even brought the "gives me.... and ____ a purpose" thing back, mentioning/gesturing towards anthony, & also the thing where when we're all doing the last "band" he like, leans back and yells it with his hands around his mouth. just kinda got me & made me smile since he didn't do either of those things on saturday, and i always do them out of habit when singing the song because of past shows.

definitely the best moment of the night & the embodiment of everything i love about idkhow. he truly made the best out of everything.

i didn't film all of it, & also my camera angles are bad since i didn't want to shove my phone in dallon (or anyone's) face. this is the only video i really feel comfortable posting from last night since it just felt like everything was alright in that moment, 100%. not that i took many in the first place for that reason, but you get the idea.

- dallon strutting around with a pride flag from someone for half a song!! let me tell you, bro was showing that thing OFF. sadly i just had my film camera in hand in the moment so i just grabbed maybe five shots on that aka i don't have em yet, but i'll have em eventually, and it sure did happen, and it was great. did see a few posts in idkhow's tagged on instagram if ya wanna peep.

- back to what i said in regards to opening band about making a rough situation more positive, dallon brought up this exact point (even moreso than usual, including just on saturday in rochester) earlier in the show while talking about a letter - he went really in depth about turning negative stuff into something beautiful. and was talking about how when he wrote the song, he could only hear what we were doing now (you know the parts, in the chorus) in his head, and now he gets to actually experience it, and so he never stops playing this song even 20 years after he wrote it. i love dallon's love for a letter, man, and hope he never does stop.

- downside has truly become one of my favorite live songs. holy moly dude it had even the otherwise seemingly casual fans going wild, possibly even more than rochester actually. that is a song to freakin JUMP to if there ever was one!!!

- did mention this in my post from last night, but a while after the show (there were only maybe a dozen of us around at this point), on his way out to the bus, dallon kind of smiled & waved at us/said thank you, first to the larger group closer to the venue and then to the few of us a bit further down, too.

can't really word it right, but just the fact that despite seeming quite down, still, bro took care to make sure we all felt appreciated/not ignored was sweet. i think maybe he could tell we were concerned, i don't know, dude, all i do know is there's a lot of kindness in that dude's eyes.

had honestly never really interacted with dallon all these years prior to these shows (besides theatrical visitation crowd stuff), so i hadn't fully realized until these past few days - really given me a different perspective i hadn't fully caught onto before amidst the dramatic aspects of idkhow/dallon & their shows, i guess.

point is, dallon's a kind dude. be good to him. just wanted to say that.

- and finally, last night was my eighth (!) idkhow show, & what's crazy is i have never traveled more than an hour & a half for one all this time. i can't say that goes for any other band, and that fact doesn't go lost on me. western ny loves and shows up for idkhow, & idkhow loves and shows up for western ny always. <3

i just have so much love for all this, dude. i miss the shows already.

this project & dallon's music & the live shows have all been in my life for so long. both of these shows have been special in some way or another, last night being a reminder of how powerful everything idkhow has going is to the point of being able to make something good out of, well, whatever might be going on.

truly hope to catch another show back around here sometime soon. please get out 2 a gig if you can - chances are, like me and everyone i've encountered, really, at their shows, you'll never want to stop going, either, if you do. :p

[spacecowboyhotch]

summary: you’re a cowboy like me.

pairing: cowgirl!reader x cowboy!din djarin

contents: 18+ content, loneliness, alcohol mention, smoking mention, typical Wild West violence & values (light torture, murder, stealing), pining if you squint

word count: 2.6k

an: the urge to write real recognizes real as the summary was strong. just a heads up that these two are NOT GOOD PEOPLE. they aren’t honorable or heroic and some of this will be pretty fucked up. with that being said, here is the first chapter! honestly i’m so excited to share this with y’all, let me know what ya think!

series masterlist | writing masterlist

Being a nomad of sorts has its perks, or at least that’s how you’ve always framed it. You’re slippery as a snake, sliding in and out of rich folks' lives just when they start to thinking you’ll be sticking around. It gets you a hoard of benefits; weapons and supplies for the never-ending road, bonds to sell, and stacks of money to hold you over as you sneak into the quiet of the night. You do your best to leave on decent terms— especially if you can imagine returning to some of these places— but some just can’t understand the way you live. You’ve learned to live with their disappointment.

Your life has been days and days of being misunderstood, what’s another?

It’s not the easiest way to live by any means and at times when the night is too cold or the afternoons too hot you wish that you could settle down like others do. But you are wiser than that. If you were to settle down somewhere, that loneliness that only rears its head every blue moon would become a daily occurrence. Yes, this life can be lonely, but at least there is some semblance of connection you find in learning someone so well that you wiggle into their heart. Charm takes intimacy, and you’re only equipped to handle that on a one-way street. The bridge to your heart crumbled and collapsed with the loss of your family, what feels like eons ago. From that moment on, this wandering shell of a person is who you became.

You’re settled just on the outskirts of a quiet, quaint town named Strawberry. There’s a little rundown shack near a stretch of wood that’s perfect for your party of one. Your first stop after securing the shack and leaving a few things behind is getting a hot meal at the saloon. There’s only so much foraged produce and rice cakes a person can live on before the belly craves more.

It’ll also give you a chance to scope things out— more specifically the people that seem to be in need of lightening their pockets from the tricks up your sleeve. This saloon is tinier than the ones you have been to before, but the mouthwatering scent of garlic and various herbs is mixed with cigarette smoke and the rowdy sound of nightly celebrations and poker chips. There’s a variety of folks here, women and men of all kinds, helpful in making sure you don’t stick out as you survey the place.

From what you’ve seen so far of the town it’s aptly named, the folks are sweet and welcoming. The guilt that used to sit in your heart about conning people like this has faded. You’re surviving, do what you can and must. It’s nothing personal, just the way life goes. But you do go out of your way to go for assholes, and the rich of the rich. Sometimes you even give back. There’s some semblance of honor you live by, even if it’s not much.

It's just a week later that things change— life changes, your path unknowingly transforming in just a matter of seconds. Because the moment you meet him, you know he’s the one.

Not like in those cheesy, bullshit stories girls at every saloon fawn over. Not like the love your mother and father used to spew, the love that was so genuine but as you grew felt more and more unattainable. But like you’ve always wanted— like you’ve convinced yourself you can handle.

He can be your partner, he can make this life a little bit easier.

A partner would make this game easier for you. As a woman in the West, the target on your back was bigger than the noon sun. No level of mastery can make being a woman less dangerous. But, with a man on your side? That could open doors you hadn’t dared try to rattle.

And him? Well when he’d asked you to dance, you were sure he was the one. Mostly because he hadn’t truly asked, partially because of the bright mischievousness in his dark brown eyes. How could his eyes show you the future with a color so deep? Contradictory pulled you in. He could do the impossible and that was exactly what you needed.

He walks in and right up to you, tipping his hat before removing it and placing it on the bar. His head is a mop of messy black hair, his mouth full and soft despite what you can imagine is a rough lifestyle. His hands speak to it, calloused and dry and strong. With broad shoulders and an expansive chest, he’s attractive, it’s impossible to deny it. But that’s as far as you’ll let yourself go, you must think about his ability, about his skills and practicality.

You can tell he’s airish, smoother than the finest leather money could buy. He’s you, but better. You’re good at what you do, and you take pride in it, but there’s something about him that just says he’s better. His competence hangs in the air and the way he holds himself.

His voice is soft, but firm, full of confidence, “Dance with me, girl.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Depends on what sort of dancin’ you’re looking for, boy.”

His expression stays stiff besides his eyes that somehow glow even brighter at your quip. “The kind where you put one foot in front of the other. Sway a little.”

“That’s not something I’m lookin’ for.”

His mouth twitches ever so slightly, “Don’t I know it.”

“Then why’d you ask?” You question, brows knitting together.

“How else was I gonna catch your attention? Been here the entire week and you haven’t even given me a glance.”

“Seems you’ve caught me at a disadvantage then…”

“Folks call me Djarin. You can call me Din.”

You wince, shaking your head at him like he’s just committed some sin. In the world that you live in, he practically has.

“That your real name?”

“You think I’m lyin’?”

“I’m sure you have some idea what I think about you. But what makes me so special, Din?” You challenge, tilting your head at him.

He shrugs– as nonchalant as ever as he says, “Takes one to know one.”

Try as you might, you can’t hold back the laugh that rises in your throat, “You’re callin’ yourself special?”

He doesn’t bat an eyelash at your mockery— not only has he seen plenty in his day but he can see you down to your core, knowing you don’t mean it. Knowing you see him just the same. “Don’t you think so?”

You can’t argue with that. Instead of saying anything, you throw back the rest of your drink, nodding your head towards the bartender as if to ask Din if he wants a drink of his own.

You and Din don’t dance, and it’s he who ends up buying you a drink. Din clearly isn’t much of a talker but the space that settles between you feels surprisingly…comfortable. The two of you sip and watch the happenings of the saloon, no doubt searching for any possible targets to sink your claws into. There are a few that catch your eye, though there’s one man in particular, clearly drunk and full of himself by the way he won’t leave some of the women alone even after they say no. That coupled with the way he flashes his belt buckle one too many times makes him perfect. You know solid gold when you see it, and just like that he’s on your list.

When he finishes his drink he leans in, voice so quiet you have to lean in too to hear him. His voice is deep, smooth like honey in your ear, “Tomorrow mornin’, meet me on the outskirts of town. The west side near that little quarry. You know it?”

“Yeah, I know it. What’s there?” You ask curiously.

“You’ll see. Just before dawn,” Is all he says before placing a few bills on the bar and leaving.

Soon after you take your own leave, saddling up on your horse and heading back to your shack. Before you slip into slumber, you realize that he never asked you for your name. You’d lie to him even if he asks, a rule of the trade— one he’d broken for you, though you won’t let yourself look too much into that. But until then, you suppose you’ll both be satisfied with mystery.

Sleep is easy and peaceful, filled with dreams of two horses walking down a long winding path to a hidden lake amidst a lush garden. They drink and lounge there for what feels like a sweet eternity.

A summer morning can be many things but this one is damp and muggy– the heat oppressive. The sound of cicadas and early morning birds fill the air despite the sun’s slumber. When you wake you wash in the nearby river before dressing in a lightweight button-down and jeans, ditching the jacket that kept you warm at night. You head to the spot Din had told you about.

You would be lying if you weren’t wary— some random man telling you to meet in a location he’s chosen the night after meeting him is a risky game. But you’re fully armed, even your hunting rifle slung along your shoulders instead of stowed on your horse. Dutiful Augustine. She never disappoints.

The first thing that you notice when Din comes into view is that he’s not alone. There’s a man restrained on the ground and by the way he’s laid, you know he’s unconscious.

Is this what he called you here for?

Din takes one last drag of his cigarette as you approach, flicking it and snuffing the rest of its ember out with his boot.

“You showed,” His expression is tame as before but you can hear the warmth in his voice. It makes your tummy tingle.

“Did you doubt me?” You ask playfully, dismounting your horse.

“Not one bit.”

You bite away your smile, pointing at the man who’s lying on the ground, “Who’s this?”

“A present.” He says simply. At your raised brow, Din removes the cover from the man’s head. “You were eyeing him last night weren’t you?”

The smile that spreads across your face is brighter than the rising sun and Din’s heart flutters.

“I was. How’d you know?”

“We’re the same, ain’t we?”

There’s him reading your mind again. You’re playing it safe, not wanting to get your hopes up or let your guard down so you shrug, training your eyes on the man who’s knocked out and typed up in front of you.

“Wake him.”

Din takes his canteen from his horse and douses the man in water until he sputters awake.

The man takes in his surroundings quickly, panic in his eyes, “L-Look, I don’t want no trouble. Anything you two want you can have.”

You stoop down in front of the man, smoothing the wet hair in his face back, “Well, aren’t you a gentleman today. Last night, now that’s a different story.”

You see the moment the man recognizes you from the saloon. He shakes his head, glancing up at Din as if he’ll be some savior.

“No, no, look at her,” Din says firmly.

The grin on your face widens at his deferrence and your eyes meet his briefly before you look at the man again. “What’s your name?”

“Kurt.”

“Kurt?” Din repeats, disgusted. It almost makes you want to giggle, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Where do you live, Kurt?”

“In Strawberry,” The man says begrudgingly.

Your brows raise at the man’s sass given his current predicament,“Well, I imagined that since you were in the saloon last night.”

“You don’t live here and you were there.”

You reach out, gripping his chin with a firm grip that makes him struggle with the restraints, “Did I say you should speak on me and where I live?

“N-no.”

“Good, then we’re on the same page. Now— where do you live Kurt?”

“Listen, my brother lives there you can’t just—“

Before Kurt can finish his sentence you slap him across the face, hard enough that when he looks at you once more there’s blood in the corner of his mouth. You reach to your hip, hand resting on the hilt of the knife you have sheathed there and Kurt’s eyes go wide.

“You’re mouthy,” You say, displeasure obvious in your voice.

“T-three houses down from the saloon. To the left if you’re facing it.”

You look up at Din, raising a brow at him.

He shakes his head, kicking the man in the back, “Wasn’t the way you were walking last night.”

Through a cry of pain, Kurt tries to rationalize with the two of you, “I was drunk, why d’ya think it was so easy for you to get me?”

“Shit-talking my partner and a liar? You’ve got plenty of nerve for a man at my mercy.”

Din shifts on his feet, his heart fluttering in his chest again at the sound of you calling him his partner. The two of you haven’t discussed a lick of anything. He was right about you— he knew he would be. His eyes are glued to your face, drinking in every sadistic expression that graces your features, every harsh word that comes from your mouth. He’s enamored.

“No, I swear, that’s the house.”

“Kurt. It’s early. Do you see?” You grip his jaw, turning his head towards the light that peaks over the horizon. “The sun is just rising. It is early— I hate getting up early, don’t I, Djarin?”

“She does.”

“And now, you’re making this early mornin’ worse by lying to us. You think that’s wise?”

“I’m not lyin’!”

“I don’t like it when people force my hand, Kurt. I value making my own decisions but look at you, you’ve done it.” You slip the knife from the sheath, pressing it to the column of his throat. “Tell me which house, and we’ll make this fast.”

Kurt’s seen your faces, there’s no way that you could let him live, even if part of you wanted to. This’ll be the test. You know that Din won’t fail, you knew that moment you laid your eyes on him. But, if there’s nothing your daddy taught you, it’s to be thorough. Din is a man after all, and all men fall short at one time or another.

“Wait a minute now— wait just one minute—“

“Shhhh, everything’s just fine, yeah? The house, Kurt, focus,” Your voice is kind, sweet and smooth despite the force you use to press the knife against his skin.

Kurt’s shoulders drop in defeat as he murmurs, “It’s the one across from the general store.”

“See, s’all I wanted,” You take the knife away from his throat before looking up at Din who gives you a slow, understanding nod.

“Now all y’all need to do is untie me, I swear to God I won’t tell a soul. And I don’t swear on God, I don’t take the Lord's name in vain.”

“I believe you, Kurt. I really do.” You pat the man on the cheek before standing. “Din.”

As you back away, Din steps forward, sliding his gun out of his holster. Kurt begs and pleads, he pulls on his restraints and even tries to crawl away despite the way his legs are tied together. Din doesn’t let him get far, not wanting to give him any hope or waste anymore time on the man. Neither of your horses flinch or make a sound when the gun goes off. Neither do either of you.

He bends to take the shining belt buckle from the man’s hips, holding it out to you as he asks, “How ‘bout we go check out his homestead?”

You nod, take the buckle from his hand and slide it into the sack on your horse, “Lead the way forward.”

ch. 2: like it could be love

taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @lesbianhotch, @ivyheliotrope, @campingwiththecharmings, @frogers, @juneknight

[leoleolovesdc]

I would love to write a TTS essay explaining why Gothel isn’t Cassandra’s mother and Frederick and Arianna aren’t Rapunzel’s parents and the show’s insistence on pushing parent/child struggles into those characters is kind of really forced so that’s exactly what I’m gonna do:

(Disclaimer: this got really messy and is kind of a bunch of nonesense glued together, so read it with a bit of patiece lmao)

Rapunzel grew up for the first 18 years of her life with Gothel, when TTS starts she has been living with Fred and Ari for 6 months and it’s wild to me how Raps already calls them mom and dad, but I won’t judge this part, she wants to be their daughter and wants to be a family so it makes sense that she would call them that way regardless if it feels natural or not, but I think where the series really fails is when it starts (by the very first episode) to give Rapunzel and Frederick father-daughter struggles, which is complete bs if you ask me, those two don’t know each other. Rapunzel shouldn’t have a “oh, I can’t disobey my father” train of thought because she doesn’t even know him and therefore he isn’t her father, at least not yet. She shouldn’t be so trusting of his judgement of love for her because they don’t have intimacy and the fact that they are fighting and disagreeing so much after having just reconnected is wild. Arianna is not that important for the plot, but her relationship with Rapunzel being so unapologetically perfect also rubs me the wrong way. Rapunzel was ruined by her mother, she was abused her whole life and I don’t think she would just let anyone fulfill the role Gothel did without getting some therapy to unpack everything wrong that her mother, the one that actually raised her, did.

Rapunzel had a narcissistic mother, an awlful one who never loved her, but that doesn’t mean that she didn’t love Gothel. Raps lived her whole by that woman’s side, she loved her more than anything in the world and realizing the manipulation and abuse wouldn’t just immediately stop a person as kind and forgiving as Rapunzel to still love her like a mother, because like it or not Gothel raised her for 18 years. She wasn’t a good mother by any means but she was her mother nonetheless.

Another point is that at the end of season one Rapunzel goes away from Corona to explore, learn about the world and her own powers. I am not exactly sure how much time passes from the beginning to the end of s1 but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t more than 6 months, so Rapunzel lives with her bio parents for about a year and then goes straight into a one year long self discovery journey and you’re trying to tell me that she missed them? Not even just missed, but when she got hold of an artifact that showed what you waned the most what she saw were her biological parents and the people of Corona who in the first episode she claims to not remember the names of? That’s some real bs right there and I have no idea how the show runners thought this made any sort of sense. She doesn’t fucking know them, maybe she respects or care about her folks, but she couldn’t have possibly built this life long parent/child relationship that the show treats like she did.

Now, with Cassandra it’s a bit more complicated. She lived with Gothel for about four years of her life before being abandoned, but she very obviously didn’t remember any of this, either because she was too young or because she repressed those memories. Gothel didn’t seem to love Cass in the slightest, but because Cass grew up with only a emotionally distant father she longed for this reassurance that she was loved by a parent figure at some point in her life, she blames Rapunzel for everything that went wrong with her life, which can make sense but also is a bit awkward to sustain once you analyze the actual facts. Yes, Rapunzel and Eugene killed Gothel, but she didn’t mean to do that, it was Eugene’s plan and he only did it because Raps had literally agreed to be used and locked up from the real world for the rest of her life. Cass isn’t dumb, she would know better than lashing out at her friends for accidentally saving her from living with a narcissist who didn’t care about her. Gothel isn’t Cassandra’s mother, Cass doesn’t have a mother because she didn’t have anyone to actually raise her.

If I was to rewrite Tangled we’d have a very different approach to how bio parents are handled, especially Rapunzel’s. I don’t think she should be close to Arianna and Frederick at all, heck, I don’t even think she should call them mom and dad. Cause bear with me, if you randomly found ot you are adopted by the time you were 18 and actually went to live with your biological family for about a year do you think you’d even have this sort of intimacy and bond with them?

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

The Perfect Life

Deleted Ending

Summary- 1.7k Dark Steve Rogers x Reader x Dark Bucky Barnes. It's been over a year since Steve and Bucky abducted you to bring you to the remote farmhouse with fields of sunflowers. Finally, Steve and Bucky have the perfect woman, pregnant with their child.

Warnings- Noncon and violent death of a major character.

A/N- This is it folks, the very end of this series. For those of you who have stuck with me, I hope that this gives some satisfaction, although I'm anticipating some disbelief. I do hope you all enjoyed this dark series. Also, beware of those people with hero complexes.

Masterlist

Steve was a god among these people. 

He believed this as he stalked through Stark Towers to where Tony waited for there meeting. People stopped him in awe, giving him the rush to get through these moments till he could get home to his family. 

A sunflower room where you waited like the good girl they trained you to be. Waiting patiently for his all his desires, no matter how twisted they could get. After that day in the basement, you were finally the housewife he and Bucky deserved. 

It was a good feeling. After all these years, he and his best friend had what they needed. It was only a matter of time before you would be all swollen, months into your pregnancy. They just found out last night with a test, but now Steve needed actual confirmation. 

Excitement filled the super soldier as he recalled watching you piss on the stick. When it finally revealed that you were pregnant, he was so damn proud. He and Bucky both.  

Since you couldn’t leave the house, not yet anyways, Steve was going to have Tony send a trusted physician to the farmhouse. You might be broken, but Bucky pointed out that you had a wild streak for freedom in you. After the baby was born, they would see about taking you off the desolate property. Back to civilization for a while. 

After having his and Buckys child, you deserved a vacation somewhere, as a family. Steve smiled at the thought of being able to take you to the faraway places he remembered traveling to. He couldn’t wait to see your eyes light up at the wonders of the world, thanking him and Bucky over and over in that sweet way where you go to your knees, eyes shining adoringly up at them while you stuck out your tongue. 

Fuck he could feel himself getting hard just thinking about you. Punching the top floor button on the elevator, Steve leaned against the glass to watch the world below get smaller, lost in his thoughts of all the ways he was going to treat you for being simply perfect for them. 

When the door slipped open to the massive office, he strode off. Tony from behind his desk glanced at the clock, cocking an eyebrow. “I expected you sooner.” 

Honestly Steve did too, but he got preoccupied leaving that morning. 

“Come on Sweetheart, say my name.” He urged as he knelt behind you, your head tipped back to look up at him while your ass slapped back into him as hard as he was pounding you. 

“Steve.” You finally moaned out in that way that could make his balls tight with the need to spill again. 

“I was busy.” He informed Tony while taking a seat, one leg folding over the other and Tony gave him a knowing look. 

“And how is she doing? Adjusting?” 

“Y/N knows she is ours, accepted it.” Steve said happily. “It took some time, but we got through to her that this was really the best for her. She will never want for anything.” 

“Not even her freedom?” Tony raised a cool brow at this question and Steve felt some doubt simmer in him, enough to make him snap a bit. 

“Not even her freedom."

"Hmm, you know Cap, you and Bucky tried this with others. That field of sunflowers confirms that." Tony said darkly, making Steve tense. You certainly weren't the first. Others before you were tested, proved to not be able to withstand the life he and Bucky were willing to give you. But you didn't need to know about the scattered graves in the field of flowers, none of those women were good enough. You were perfect. "What makes her different?" Tony asked curiously.

"Because we showed her how good life with us can be," Steve said confidently. "In fact, I believe we are expecting so that will take up her time when we are not around.” 

Tony’s eyes brightened in surprise, giving a snap of his hand against his desk. “Well, congratulations Cap. I'm shocked you even dragged yourself away after that news.” 

“Thank you, it was a long time coming but worth the wait.” Steve got a faraway look as he thought about how long he had wanted to settle down, have his girl on his arm and a babe in hers. How Bucky would stare after him and Peggy longing for that family. Steve thought Peggy would be it, but then everything happened and dashed that dream away. 

When he rejoined the world, everything changed. He thought he was all alone. A lonely life longing for what was. 

Until Bucky showed up again, broken but still his best friend. That's when the idea took root for Steve, they couldn’t find a girl here to satisfy their needs, they would train one. Make her the perfect wife and mother. Steve had no issue sharing with Bucky, not when he wanted to see his best friend as happy as he was now.

With Tony’s help, that dream became a reality. It had taken over a year to get you to this point, but Steve wouldn’t change anything that had happened. You all were now so happy. 

“So what do you need then? You want to bring Y/N here to have her checked out?” 

Steve gave a shake of his head. “No, she isn’t ready for that yet. Can we fly someone out there?” 

“Of course, I got plenty eligible people on the payroll. Jarvis, pull up a list of pediatricians in the building.” 

While Tony searched for the doctor, Steve pulled out his phone to check on you. Would you be curled up in your seat, reading in the sunshine? Taking a walk with Bucky around the property? Maybe in the kitchen working on one of your wonderful apple pies for when he got home. 

It took seconds of him being able to find you. Apparently he wasn’t the only one needing to be with you because currently Bucky had you on the kitchen counter, thighs gripping his waist as he fucked you. Your head was tipped back, Steve could picture the soft moans escaping you. So sweet sounding. 

He was about to close the phone when he saw your hand reach behind you and panic rose in his chest. 

“Dont you do it Doll.” He growled out and Tony paused in surprise. 

“Everything okay Rogers?” 

“Fuck.” Steve snarled as he stared at the screen. “I need to get back, right now.” He leaped up from the chair, panic wild in his eyes.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Tighter Doll, thatta girl, good girl.” Bucky's hot breath was buried against your neck, your arm slung around him with nails gripping his muscled back. You squeezed your thighs more, wrapped around him while you jolted against the cool counter, panting in Bucky’s ear. 

“Make me cum Bucky, I need it so bad.” You whined as you nipped at his earlobe. “Put another baby in me.” 

It made him groan, grinding into you and you felt yourself building up to make it end. Your body shaking as your belly clenched, needing it now. “Keep me full, Bucky, please.” You whined out again, crying out in pleasure while scratching down his back. 

“I'm gonna Doll. You are so good. Fuck.” He grunted and you feathered kisses against his neck, pulling him closer against you, His forehead fell to your shoulder, his hands bruising your hips to hold you still for him to finish. 

He was distracted enough to not notice your subtle movements while your moans of his name got louder, keeping him pounding you.

Your hand stretched behind you, the knife block so close now and he was distracted with finishing. Trying to drive you to finish. You couldn’t cum, not yet as much as your body wanted to loose itself, making you feel disgust with yourself for even wanting to give in. 

Closer, closer, your fingers brushed the familiar wooden handle. And just as you started to quake, moments away from giving into the sensation, you pulled the knife loose. 

Bucky came just as you plunged the blade into his neck, making him roar in shock and pleasure while he crashed into you. 

You didn’t stop, you yanked that knife out again and went deeper with each plunge. Spurts of blood escaped him to cover you as he pushed you away with a bloody hiss while it squirted from his mouth. 

You tumbled against the floor, scrambling to your feet to lunge at Bucky again, grabbing at the knife protruding from his neck and yank it out. 

“Y/N, fuck, why? Fuck.” He tried smothering the grisly holes in his neck, blood running all over the place. You held the knife in front of you and scrambled further away from where he was laying on the floor, panting at the exertion of what just happened, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

It was a better feeling then any orgasm he had ever given you. 

“Y/N, Steve, call Steve.” Bucky’s voice was gutted sounding, still not having processed your betrayal. 

You laughed coldly while you worked your way to a stand and held onto the counter to keep from slipping in the blood on the floor. “You are delusional Bucky.” 

“Do it.” He hissed, his hand slippery against his neck while he started going pale. You savored the actual look of fear in Bucky’s eyes. You imagined that was how you must have looked so many times. Having the power to be able to stare him down gave another rush of adrenaline. “Because you need us. We love-” His tone started to fade, his eyes trying to stay open. 

“You love me?” You flipped the knife to aim into a downward plunge motion, this time aiming for his heart, grimacing slightly as you felt the blade push in. You loomed over him, watching his vibrant stormy eyes fade to nothing. “You were a monster, even if you loved me like you think you did.” 

Prying out the knife, you fell back, the whole kitchen floor streaked red with sticky blood and you were covered in warm blood. You felt the tingle of anticipation fill you and glancing up, your eyes fell on the houses camera system. 

It was like you could feel Steve’s rage and pain through the lens that was focused on you. You could just imagine his expression now, watching as you killed his best friend, the only friend you suspected. Pushing up, you made your way across the kitchen till you were standing just under it so the camera had a clear view of you, staring coldly up at it. Pulling off the dress you were wearing, you tossed it at the bloody mess that was once Barnes. With the knife still in your hand, you felt along your hip till you found the B scar Bucky gave you. 

“He doesn’t own me anymore Steve.” You said out loud, taking the knife tip and slicing it across the B till it was ruined. Tears streamed down your face, cutting through the blood smeared on your face, but your smile was cold, and predatory, showing your satisfaction. The lens seemed to zoom in on you while you mouthed silently. 

Come get me Steve, I’m ready for you. 

You were ready to burn down your sunflower prison to the ground when Steve came for you.

[multiplicity-positivity]

What are your thoughts on systems that also have ties to the unconscious? I have headmates and also beings residing in my unconscious. My whole system is esoteric in nature.

They make my muscles twitch and cry through my eyes but never fully front

I'm more focused on my wild intuition and building frameworks around it as I tread new psychic waters.

and they're all collectively more focused on love/hate, and how they feel about things and what they want to do about it.

Our differences often lead to conflict

They seem weary of my reckless creation and sigils I'm practically a fountain of sigils.

Different frequencies can come through the "channel" beyond just my headmates. I've had socialist Jesus tell me everything was going to turn out alright.

Headmates:

Amory - Used to have mad sensual tension between us. Just talking about it makes me feel flirty, romantic and frisky. This never turns out well for us though so and it weirds her out so I don't really cross that boundary with her anymore.

Vigila - weary of new things, worried about how they could go wrong

Luceal - believes I need to be punished, plays mind games, will use mind games to indirectly try to control me to get me to do what she wants, sometimes all she wants me is to stop talking about a subject. Other times she gets purely sadistic and has no empathy or remorse and wishes to drive me either off the deep end or to suicide.

Bun/BunBun - Comes to me in a vision as a bunny entity, sort of like a little sister to me.

Centipede - Comes to me to protect me from Luceal when things get bad in a vision of a smiling centipede

Greg - Male voice that condescends and backs up Luceal.

Writing about Amory got me a bit heated up due to to the tension goddamn but it is what is it is. I yearn for Amory's love and affection and holding each other and maybe getting frisky if we're both comfortable and in a good place for it.

hey, to answer your question at the top of your ask, we feel that almost every system out there has ties to the unconscious in some way or another. for most systems, headmates don’t just stop existing when they leave the front or aren’t taking up consciousness-bandwidth (if that makes sense). our system definitely has alters who hardly ever front, and some who have no ability to access our inner world/headspace. for them, much of their existence likely is in our unconscious mind.

also thanks for sharing a bit about your system, its members, and how your system functions. we also experience lots of conflict and physical/emotional bleedover where one part may experience the emotions or have the physical reactions of another part without directly interacting. your system sounds like a diverse group of folks, and we’re wishing y’all the best of luck with learning more about each other and growing closer together as a team :)

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 31: "You told your parents?" ~ Arthur Morgan/OC [1,105 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

Cora was having a downright glorious day. Although the days when she and Arthur broke off from the rest of the camp and roughed it alone for a week or two always were, but this was one of their best little solo trips yet. The weather was beautiful, they stopped off at the post office before they really delved into the wilderness so she had a letter from home, and they hadn’t run into even a shadow of trouble. Considering the way chaos had a habit of finding Arthur, that particular part was a true miracle.

At present, they’d made camp just a little ways away from a lake – close enough to easily take a dip, but not so close that they’d be exposed to any who drifted near the shore – and she sat with her back against a tree while the wild turkey, the one that had them affectionately bickering over who had been the one to actually shoot it, roasted on a spit over the fire. They were being treated to the sort of sunshine that promised a beautiful pink-red sunset, and it took all she had not to hum happily as she read her letter from her hometown.

“My ma says hi,” she called to him as she read.

Up ‘til that moment, he’d been firmly rooted in man-roasting-his-kill mode. Or her kill, as she kept insisting anyway. He always insisted on taking over the cooking for at least their first night out here – although it was usually more, unless she really fought him on the matter. She rarely did, though, because it was sweet. A man who was hell-bent on cooking her dinner personally. Who’d’ve ever thought one like that existed? It was a question she found herself asking a lot ever since she’d first fallen for Arthur Morgan.

Her words, however, jolted him out of that mode.

“Your mother?”

“Uh-huh.”

“…she said to tell me that?”

“No, Dutch. I was hoping you’d pass the word along,” she drawled.

He stilled, leaning back where he knelt on the ground, regarding her thoughtfully.

“You…told your folks about me?”

“The basics, sure.”

“The basics?”

“That I’m courting a man I’m crazy about – and that he’s kind, funny, good, and handsome to boot.”

“You lied to ‘em, then.”

“I fudged the details on the whole livin’ in sin aspect, but everything else I just said is true,” she frowned at him. “…Shouldn’t I have?”

After their first night together, they’d both agreed that this wasn’t a sneaking into each other’s bedroll for some stress relief kind of thing. That it was more than that. That they were making a real go of it, in their own way. But maybe he viewed their way as not being something that should be shared around. The camp was one thing, nothing stayed secret for long there, but she had a hell of a lot more control over whether or not her folks knew. She just…hadn’t thought it would bother him. Instead, he looked bothered.

Maybe she should’ve asked first.

“I’m not exactly the bring home to mom and dad sort, sweetheart,” he said finally.

Ouch.

“Well, they live so far away it’s a wonder their letters even arrive in one piece. You’ll never have to meet ‘em if you don’t want to.”

Cora tried to play it cool as she spoke, shrugging casually and lowering her head so that her long dark hair fell forward over her face, pretending to be fascinated by the letter in her hand. Of course he saw through it.

“Shit, Cora, that ain’t what I meant at all,” he stood, approached, and then knelt before her on the ground. “Just that…I’m not the sort that a respectable woman would want to bring home to mom and dad.”

Oh. This was around the time she knew he’d be breaking out words like ugly and haggard if she hadn’t entirely vetoed them some time ago. Folding the letter and setting it in the midst of her skirts, she regarded him softly.

“I’m not a very respectable woman, Arthur,” she snorted.

“I respect you,” he said simply.

“And that’s what matters. To me. To them, too – my folks aren’t the high and mighty sort. Do you think I’d be running with Dutch’s crew if they were? Ma’s just glad to have one less mouth to feed, and pa – god love him – is a drunk. If I brought home some, some heir to a fortune with a stick lodged up his ass, they’d think I lost my damn mind. They know whatever I’m up to out here isn’t squeaky clean, how could it be? But we all play dumb to avoid stressful conversations. I keep ‘em clued in on the good parts, and you’re the best part.”

He breathed a laugh, but when he met her gaze and found her dark eyes fixed on him almost sternly, so there could be no doubt as to whether she meant every word she said, the laughter disappeared and he leaned back to sit on his ass on the ground in front of her, leg bent so one arm could rest atop his knee.

“You don’t have to meet ‘em, ever, if you don’t want to,” she continued. “But you gotta know that if you did, I’d be much more concerned about what you were going to make of them, rather than what they’d think of you. Because that last part wouldn’t make a damn lick of difference to me. Ever.”

Shifting a little, she could see in his face that he was tempted not to believe her – whether he’d admit that fact or not.

“I mean it, Arthur. They’d love you if they met you, you’re just gonna have to take my word on that, but even if they didn’t, you’d still be stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me.”

He smiled slightly, scratching at the stubble at his jaw.

“That’ll be an awful long time, Cor.”

“Will it, now?”

“Forever, most like. If I have my way.”

As he said it, he looked almost tentative – because it was one thing to say they were making a serious go of this, and it was another to say that. Those words of his had implications. The type that involved gold rings and wedding bells.

Cora grinned, and those blue-green eyes of his that had been inspecting her face for any hint of a negative reaction lit up as she replied.

“That works just fine for me.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, hiding his own smile. “Good. Go ahead and tell ‘er I said hi back, then. Better make a good first impression, if she's to like me when I meet 'er.”

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[girlymatsu]

20? (First kiss)

WAAHH OK I had this partly written out a while ago and just decided to finish it for this prompt.. it’s a little bit of a downer in the beginning, hope it’s good!

“I mean… firsts aren’t too big of a deal! My first kiss wasn’t anything special at all!”

Erina waves her hand around, trying to casually comfort Osomatsu as he’s going through a childish drunken rant. They sit at a ramen bar and Erina is smiling at Osomatsu’s grumpy face leaning on his arms on the counter.

Silly Osomatsu waves his can of beer around lazily and in a bitter fashion, “Feh! Only popular socialites actually say that kinda stuff as a way to humble brag about all their experience— Have more pity on us little folk please!” Dramatically putting a hand on his chest as he laments.

“But it’s not like I’m popular or have that much experience really!” She really doesn’t, it’s really sad!

Osomatsu pouts. “You can’t say that when you’ve k-k-kissed before! Agh! Saying it is like damage inducing for virgins!” He leans so far back like he’s gonna fall over.

She playfully shoves him again for being so silly and dramatic.

“Noo really— It’s actually been so long, I don’t think it counts anymore!”

“Then who was your first kiss then huh Erina-Chan? An old boyfriend?” He squints at her with his brows furrowed leaning in close it makes her blush.

Erina gives a bit of an awkward smile as she’s fidgeting with her earring. Normally she wouldn’t talk about this to remain a little mysterious, but she wants to be honest with Osomatsu a little more. Let him in a little bit because she secretly does want him to be closer. “No! Nono haha— not at all, I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and we weren’t together for very long, and we never kissed on the lips either..”

“Haah? who could you have kissed other than your boyfriend huh? Your friends? Randos?! Guys for money?!”

Erina widens her eyes and gives him an exasperated look, “Nonono!! Do you think I’m such a wild bad girl Osomatsu?” She tries to smile like she can take a joke, playfully shoving him like it didn’t hurt her at all that he would think that.

She might’ve been lucky or unlucky that Osomatsu couldn’t see her true emotions, he laughs off her reaction but she feels her fragile heart rattle a little. Does Osomatsu think she gets around often? Would it matter if she did? Does he think she’s so wild and alien like his brothers do and feel uncomfortable around her?

Erina sips at her drink even though she dislikes the taste of this beer, but it’s the one Ochomachu likes. They go their seperate ways amicably afterwards. Once becoming alone the noise in her head starts to come back.

When she had her first kiss, she was too little and naive to know better. Then when she grew up, she became an attention starved little monster. Maybe people would like her more if she was truly more pure-hearted. She walks along the road not realizing where she was going until she suddenly ended up home, just repeating “I’m not a bad girl… I’m not a bad girl…”

—

“Teach me how to kiss.”

“H-huh?”

The next day Osomatsu dropped in at her apartment without a prior notice. Erina sheepishly let him in, but she was just in her pajamas and didn’t have any makeup on. He takes up a lot of space on her small loveseat couch, their knees touch.

Osomatsu clears his throat, and he puts on a comically serious face. Erina doesn’t feel like he’s actually trying to make the mood less tense with his funny intense eyes.

“I need to kiss. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it the last time we talked about it— I’m kind of embarrassed to not have that experience at my age— As the eldest I have to be the first to kiss and hold hands with a girl!“ Osomatsu’s straight face breaks into a whine and shakes her shoulders. “You’re the only one I can count on Erina-chan!”

Erina can feel her whole face get warm and she feels so small when he towers over her like this. Small in a way she can’t help but like as a small animal.

“Ah… okay..! I’ll help you Osomatsu-kun..!”

-

It feels so warm…

Erina doesn’t remember her lips be this sensitive and tingly before. It’s so awkward, puckering and smacking her lips against his for longer than intended. She was so lost in the sensation that she forgot it was probably her job as the teacher to pull away. She can feel Osomatsu’s face all tense, and nervously she slowly backs up from him, guilty for losing herself in it.

Osomatsu’s eyes were still open, staring hard back at her when she opened her own eyes. Her face flushed even harder, “Was that okay..?”

Osomatsu opened his mouth to take a breath, it seems he wasn’t breathing that whole time. His gaze was unnerving and his lips quivering. Erina almost asks if something was wrong before he blurts out, “Again.”

“Again?”

She could barely reply more before his lips chase after hers again. Then it turned again, and again. Osomatsu was going to make sure Erina teaches him everything.

[demonslayedher]

I feel like there’s always been a lot of “what-if” questions with KnY, but the biggest one for me is What if Muzan never became a demon? Either by the doctor having successfully curing his illness without demonifying him or if he died early as expected, how would that have changed the course of the character’s history?

HAPPY ENDS FOR EVERYONE BUT KIBUTSUJI MUZAN!!!

--His wives are free from his abuse, the doctor is sad he failed but he goes on to treat many good people, the Ubuyashiki mission-oriented branch of their noble clan doesn't even go on to exist because they just go along their normal merry noble way.

--Tamayo does wind up dying from her illness, but peacefully surrounded by her beloved family. Yushiro later dies, but more pissed off about it.

--Yoriichi and Uta live happily ever after. The Kamados move into an abandoned house down the road and their descendants are fruitful and forever happy neighbors. There was one time when Yoriichi was away looking for a midwife that Uta was almost killed by a wild animal, but a swordsman out there in the quiet of nature practicing his family's flame inspired sword techniques saves her, and he and his family also also become good friends of the Mt. Kumotori simple folk.

--Michikatsu goes on to have an illustrious samurai career and have illustrious descendents. Muichiro and Yuichiro therefore live in the city and go to a fancy private school where they are popular geniuses. It goes to their heads sometimes, though.

--Douma eventually dies an old cult leader without many complaints. Hakuji committed terrible acts, but he was then adopted by a new master, a swordman named Rengoku, who guided him in doing the work to amend his ways. Lots of very angry meditation before Hakuji ever finds enough peace with himself to enjoy gardening and tending koi ponds again.

--Gyutaro and Daki do indeed meet a sad end, but they meet a hypnotist who at least lets them see happy dreams as they die. They get reincarnated into kinder circumstances, albeit Gyutaro always feels a lot of jealousy for people who have things better than him and he'll probably bring about his own downfall again unless Ume steps in and stops him, because she knows he's kinder than that.

--Himejima has a happy family life with his orphans, and remains skin and bones. He eventually had to kick Kaigaku out for causing trouble, though. Himejima cried a lot over having the do that.

--Kaigaku is adopted by an old man who takes him in to train him in... say... electricity. Yes, Jiichan is now the Japanese Nicola Tesla and wants to make Kaigaku into a brilliant scientist. He recruits Zenitsu for the same task and Kaigaku is jealous. Zenitsu gets zapped in the lab.

--Urokodaki was a regular Edo ronin. After the Meiji Restoration, he started an orphanage. Makomo still lives there happily, Sabito has grown up and, uh, joined the military. Because Giyuu is so influenced by his childhood friend he winds up doing the same. Tsutako is happily married.

--Inosuke's out there doing his forest thing but eventually finds himself on the neighboring mountain making friends with the Tsugikuni and Kamado kids. This was after a brief stint being adopted by Himejima, but Himejima was too weak-willed in nicely asking Inosuke to behave, and he was heartbroken with worry when Inosuke wandered off. He saw Inosuke more like a stray cat than a human child.

--The Kochou girls attend a fancy school, Kanae has lots of offers for marriage but Shinobu is disinterested. They came across a girl on a bridge who was getting taken into slavery and brought her home. Aoi, having been sent away from her family home to do domestic work so as to earn money for her family (as was common in the day), works in the Kochou home. Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho happily grow up in their own families and are squeamish at the sight of blood, what with the lack of having to be exposed to it.

--Mitsuri's family takes a vacation out for an island holiday. Mitsuri was hoping for a romantic encounter but finds it odd that there are so many women. While starving herself and she gets dizzy and wanders off and gets hopelessly lost until she encounters a boy with a snake around his shoulders and two different eye colors, in a total separate part of the vacation mansion. He's alarmed that she's so faint and gives her the rich food he didn't have the stomach to touch, she comes back to life and cheerfully thanks him, and then they start chatting, and she's the best thing that's ever come into his sheltered rich boy world, and they have a whirlwind romance which involves her courageously using her strength to beat off his family and free him to join her on the mainland so that they can live happily ever after.

--Uzui and wives become vigilantes. Flamboyant vigilantes. Uzui leans into this personality and the newspaper are always filled with the latest exploits of that mysteriously flamboyant man, taking down corrupt officials and beating up criminals in back alleys. Nezuko is a huge fan and on a long awaited and saved-up for trip to try to meet him, she finds herself in trouble (it's easy to get disoriented in the big city, after all), and Zenitsu comes to her rescue and tazors the perps. It's love at first sight for both of them, and they start a long-distance letter writing relationship. Tanjiro is concerned that this boy Nezuko is writing to might be embellishing things.

--Life's been a lot better for the Shinazugawas since their pops got stabbed. The children have all started earning money once they're old enough, but Sanemi wants them to continue their educations, so he joins the military. He winds up getting in fights with Giyuu and Sabito but eventually they all become friends. Genya eventually tries to join too once the younger kids need less care and looking after, but Sanemi doesn't take kindly to that. Kanae becomes a volunteer nurse in the military and meets them all this way.

--In case it's not clear, the Rengoku family maintains the generations of bonds so Kyojuro and Senjuro and Shinjuro pay regular visit to Mt. Kumotori. Kyojuro teaches Tanjiro kendo.

--One day Tanjiro is strolling around the mountain and he sees mysterious blue spider lilies. "Those are nice," he says, and then no one ever pays a second thought to the flowers ever again.

[casinotrio1965]

Western Disney AU: At the Stables by friend Levi

Being in the Wild West only meant adventure, or that's what someone would assume. Gunslingers and all sorts, but not in this little town. The folk there were far too friendly, though that never stopped chaos from brewing.

The sun peeked in through the windows and onto Lampwick's drooling face, snoring away without worries. Suddenly, a little girl barged in with an irritated expression. He was supposed to get up earlier to help his sister with the chores while their mother was busy. Unfortunately, he had no plans of getting up any time soon.

"Hey! Lampwick!" she yelled.

He jolted awake and looked around in alarm.

"Huh..? Is there school today?" he'd yawn.

"No, you big oaf! You were meant to be getting the groceries by now!"

He'd scratch his head before snapping his fingers.

"My bad! I totally forgot!"

Rushing to get dressed, he ran around to get some bread for his breakfast and a basket to place all the shopping. Before anyone could complain, he was already out the door. On his way to town, he recognised some familiar faces that were already up and about. The townsfolk tended to their business in the distance, but he easily got sidetracked, changing course to stop by the horses at the stable nearby. He couldn’t resist the urge to bother them.

Waiting for him on his path was a pretty girl from the native tribe that they often did trades with. She glanced around as she kicked a pebble, huffing impatiently as if she was waiting for someone. He was surprised she was wandering about like this, but was pleased to see her.

"Tigerlily! Great day for mischief, right?" he called out with a snicker.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head with a giggle.

"You on your way to bother the horses again? One of these days they're gonna knock you out!" she exclaimed back.

He approached her, grinning as he usually does.

"What're you doing around here? Did ya miss me or something?"

Her cheeks turned slightly pink at the comment, rolling her eyes despite the fact he was right. But she wasn't going to admit that. He'd tease her for the rest of her life.

“In your dreams!” she’d scoff. “I’m only here to wait for Peter and then I’m going to pick up a few things for my dad. The usual checkup on our trades and stuff.”

He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms with a playful chuckle.

“How heartbreaking. Thought you actually wanted to see me.”

“If you keep saying that, I’ll assume that you’re the one who’s seeking me out.”

He’d raise his hands to surrender, running out of retorts to throw her way.

“Fine fine. I’ll stop teasing ya.”

The pair shared a familiar warm smile with each other. They had been friends for a while, when Lampwick’s mother, Carina, would visit the friends she had made as a saloon girl in the past. The two troublemakers would often mess around and crack jokes, often bothering the adults around them with their antics.

“Anyways, where is Peter? Doesn’t he come to look at the stables around this time?” Lampwick inquired.

“He asked me to get him a wooden practice gun, and I was hoping to see him to discuss more details about it. But I’m getting bored sticking around here”, Tigerlily would sigh before the auburn haired boy nudges her.

“Let’s go have some fun! We can put our duties on hold for a little bit. Nobody will know!”

“Hmmm… I don’t know… You said that last time and my dad ended up lecturing me for an entire hour once I got back home.”

“Come on! We can get groceries for me and do your trade stuff while we roam around. I’ve been itching to do something entertaining”, he grinned, which was enough to sway her into playing along with his plan.

“Alright, you’ve got me convinced. What type of shenanigans did you have in mind?”

He’d wrap his arm around Tigerlily, making her heart skip a beat from the sudden closeness. Of course, he was too oblivious to notice how flustered she was, and she was rather good at pretending she wasn’t.

He started dragging her to the stable of one of the most ferocious horses… Tinkerbell. She was infamous for her stubbornness, driving away any potential buyers. Despite that, it was said this Arabian mare could run so fast it was like she could fly, much like a fairy. Though she had often thrown her riders off her back whenever she was irritated, making her rather dangerous. Tigerlily’s eyes widened in disbelief and looked at him with a mix of concern and intrigue.

“Isn’t this that horse that Peter wanted to get for himself?” she asked.

“It is in fact that horse. I’ve no interest in getting one as you already know. But… We can have a bit of a bet while nobody is looking.”

“What sort of bet?”

He’d check the area and his surroundings, to ensure they won’t be caught. He knew he’d get grounded if his mother found out about this. In the corner was a block of hay to feed the horses, and he hastily took two handfuls of it before placing some in Tigerlily’s hand.

“I bet Tinkerbell will accept my hay!” he exclaimed.

She smirked at his cockiness and held her head high.

“I see how it is. Well, I bet she’ll accept mine first!”

“Oh really? Then how about this. Loser has to eat hay like a horse.”

“You’re on!”

The two fist bumped to solidify this deal before turning back to the uninterested mare. Lampwick fearlessly stepped forward with a confident beaming smile and shoved the clump of dried grass towards her snout. Tinkerbell snorted and sniffed him, but she didn’t dare take a bite. It’s as if she knew he was up to no good. She simply turned her back on him, swishing her tail around almost sassily.

“Doesn’t look like your smile charmed her at all”, Tigerlily teased.

That simple statement was enough to fuel his competitive behaviour. He stuck his hand into her stable, trying desperately to get her attention.

“Hello!? C’mon, Tinkerbell! Don’t be like this! I don’t wanna eat this straw!” he begged.

All the ruckus aggravated her, causing her to neigh loudly which alarmed them. She spun around and snapped at Lampwick, causing him to yelp and fall onto his behind. He groaned in pain as his companion howled with laughter.

“Haha very funny”, he scowled.

Feeling gratified, what worry Tigerlily had washed away. She calmly and carefully presented the hay to an upset Tinkerbell, awaiting what she’d do. At first, the mare was sceptical, glaring at the petite native girl. But she sensed her sincerity, and she was rather peckish. She slowly extended her neck and took a nibble of the hay, then she turned her back to them again. Lampwick’s mouth went agape, unable to process the fact he just lost.

“What!? How!?”

Tigerlily cackled and clapped in amusement. She dumped the hay onto his lap and crossed her arms.

“Eat up. You must be hungry.”

He grimaced, reluctantly picking up a strand and let it hover in front of his lips. He closed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, shoving it in his mouth and swallowing as fast as he could. The taste was ghastly, like the driest leaves in the world with a strong aftertaste of soil. It made him gag, and the regret had him wishing he just left for the groceries.

The End

[mega-punani]

ALRIGHT IVE GOT SOME IDEAS:

Celebrity vs Hitman au:

You are a rising star who stopped producing music because of your abusive manager/spouse. You hid away until you finally felt the urge to start making music again. You boom in popularity with your comeback as a strong independent foo who don't need nobody. But uh oh, your apartment is getting bulldozed, and you gotta go NEOW.

Here comes a conveniently placed ad for a mansion with cheap ass rent. Here's the catch: roommates. You move in with a bunch of really nice skeletons! And hey! Turns out they are fans of your music (but in a cool, nice sort of way). You get along with them, not knowing that they are all very dangerous hitmen. But they won't hurt you, no worries! They're your biggest fans!

This is given me allota fluff and cute stuff.

Wild West au:

You're a no bullshit sheriff of your small hometown, and your folks have recently been getting terrorized by some masked hooligans! You've heard they were a dangerous bunch, and they've been known to stage some robberies. Now they're here to bother the old rich man on the edge of town. Of course, you lowkey don't like him cause he's sexist, but it's your job, so here you go.

Right when you get to that coot's house, they would all just scamper off like they had never been there. Tired after a long day, you hop by the bar to visit your old pal Sans, the bartender. You guys talk about everything, and he's pretty transparent about his life. What he won't tell you about is the little gang he runs. That same gang that's been harassing your little town.

This is given me Romcom, like a villain flirting with a hero type beat.

Demons au:

Why is there a glowing red pentagon in the middle of your room? AND WHY IS IT GLOWING!?

Your good friend, a pursuer of science, decided that they wanted to test if demons were real or not. In order to do that, they needed to test out an old crusty book they found in the back of an antique store. And what better place to do it than your living room floor. You, being the nice friend you are, supervised them and gave them a drop of your blood (cause your friend is anemic 😔) and BAM. Skeleton demons in your fucking house.

They are insufferable at first, but they eventually grow on you. So much so that they start getting hella clingy...

This is given me slice of life. Keep it emotional though 👍

Mafia au:

Okay, so the problem w/ this is that I have way too many ideas for this one. But let me get this clear: in all of these ideas, the skellies are mobsters.

1: Y/N is a ring fighter that used to beat the living shit out of people for rich people entertained. They used to be the skelly gang's top fighter but stopped (moral reasons, a kid, injury, family, etc) and no longer affiliates w/ the family.

Hold up! There's another fight coming up, and Sans really needs to win this one, and who else to call but you?

This one's allota hurt, misunderstanding, bad communication. Angst and sad back stories galore.

2: You save this gloopy lookin skeleton man from getting hit by a bus, AND NOW HE WANTS YOU TO INHERIT HIS CRIME ORGANIZATION!? You politely refuse (cause you have no idea how to run one of those), and so he suggests you pick one of his many sons to pick up his legacy. Now you got hot skellies flirting, threatening, and bargaining with you to choose one of them. You might just snatch that title outa spite....

Romcom again. Flirty, fun, dramatic. All the jazz.

3: Alright this one hella self indulgent.

You're the only child of a nefarious crime lord, and they appoint their best men as your body guards. They body guards being hot skeleton men. Oh hey! They also like you romantically cause, who tf wouldn't??? You're so segsy and amazing 🥰. Thas all I got though, no plot.

This one's giving me elegant romance. HELLA ELEGENT 😡. Kinda the same vibe as my hotel au.

Reincarnation au:

This one is essentially a rip off of those "villianess reincarnates in a dating sim/romance novel" mangas/manhwas.

Y/N was just a regular person who got hit by a bus and given a second chance at life. Surprise, surprise! They got reincarnated into a novel where the skellies are royality and all fight for the affections of an MC. Unfortunately, Y/N got reincarnated as a villain instead of literally anyone else. Yah know what else? The villian dies in the end! Wahoo!

In order to prevent this terrible end, you pull a few strings to make sure you're alive at the end of the day. But hazzah, the main characters are inescapable, and now their affections are geared towards you!

This one is a lot of romcom stuff.

That's all I have got so far, but yeah. Just some ideas drabbled on to one post. You might see em again soon?

[yaboyhoney]

What do you think the twins would think about a transmasc s/o who does martial arts?

Submas x Transmasc Martial Artist Reader!

Emmet and Ingo are an interesting pair of twins, to say the least. They're strong trainers, with strength comparable to that of the Champion Iris, with a peculiar personality that draws them apart from one another.

But you already know about them. This time, they're knowing about you.

The two know about you, you're a famous martial artist. At first you were a spectacle due to your gender which is still prevalent in some tiresome and irrelevant media circles, but otherwise you're known for your strength in both your physique and pokemon team.

In Nimbasa City, there was a world wide event that called forth the attention of the world's best fighting-type trainers. This wasn't just limited to just pokemon battles! The trainers themselves would be fighting against each other as well. This was a massive charity event!

You were a celebrity at this point because you weren't a gym leader or an Elite Four member unlike those in the roster. You've traveled the world and amassed a number of skills and Pokemon to create the perfect team.

But when you arrived to Nimbasa City, you were trying to be inconspicuous. You don't like attracting attention unless you're on the battlefield because you get the attention of a bunch of weak trainers who don't give you a challenging fight.

But that day you were in the subway station, you were very lost...the Unovan subway system is regarded to be the best in the world but you grew very accustomed to Galar's flying taxi's.

So Ingo got to meet you first. Being the gentleman he is, he escorted you to your next stop while talking to you. Without giving away your name, you mention that you're taking part of the fighting tournament. Ingo expresses an interest in that and wishes you luck, not knowing who you are until later.

When the twins get together with Elesa and Skyla to watch in front row seats, Ingo SHOUTS when he realizes you walk on stage. He's quick to inform the others that he's actually met you! You lightly laugh when you see him in the crowd and give him a wink. The cameras go fucking wild at this as you saunter onto the stage to fight.

The Pokemon fight against Bea was intense, your Toxicroak defeated Bea's Grapploct by wearing it down with poisonous attacks.

But your actual physical fight with Bea was beyond comprehension due to how fast it was. You were relentless and overwhelming, the young teenager never stood a chance.

You're quickly vilified in the spotlight due to how harsh you were. The corner of the audience that is Galarian are shocked into silence. You two walk off stage and aren't seen for a while.

Emmet gets a bit envious so he decides he wanted to meet you too. Since they all paid good money to get backstage access, they meet up with you after the fight you had with Bea. But they quickly pause when they hear light sniffles.

"Whoa, hey, you're gonna be ok," they hear you say as you apply another bandaid to her cheek. "You did good out there. Almost had me a good couple of times too. You don't gotta cry, girl, you got all of Galar rooting for you. You made everyone proud, you hear? That intense footwork, the way you move, you had me sweating bullets!" they hear Bea gently laugh at that and ask if you meant it, you confirm this. You eventually leave her room and exit into the hallway, where you see the group. Though they wouldn't say that they heard you, they take note of your protective kindness as you immediately close the door behind you and say, "You folks better give my girl Bea some time," with a glare.

but they immediately clear up the situation that they merely wanted to meet you! Now you're a bit bashful if it weren't for the bruise you had on your cheek. "Gee thanks! Never knew I had fans out there actually. Just been chugging along on my own, on my little destiny train, seeing where the tracks will take me."

You are strong, handsome, caring, AND you use train puns? Oh it's over for the twins the moment you turn your back to them, Ingo and Emmet are immediately fighting over who asks you out first.

[evolutionsvoid]

It is always important when out in the wilds to be wary of your surroundings. This may sound like a stupidly obvious statement, but you would be surprised at how many people have numerous blind spots whenever they trudge around outside. If you are like me and are out looking for cool creatures to see and study, keeping an open eye is crucial for spotting your target. This is combined with the fact that you should always be observant because being out here also means watching out for predators or possible threats. Certainly not every forest and field is filled with bloodthirsty beasts hungering for your flesh, but blind wandering around can stick you in bad scenarios if you are unlucky. Most creatures prefer to live their lives in peace, and would most likely just walk the other way if they spotted you. But if you so happened to ignorantly walk between them and their cubs, now we have trouble. Or if you stumble across a slumbering manticore and rudely awaken it with your presence. Not a good place to be. So be mindful of where you are walking and what is around you, and this includes looking UP! That is one of the major blind spots most people have, not bothering to look upwards as they walk. Sure, you want to keep your eyes on your roots so you don't trip, but one should give the occasional glance to the sky to make sure all is clear. We busy ourselves with the worries of coming across wolves or bears, all ground level threats, that we don't think that danger could be lurking overhead. This is one of the reasons why the species in this entry is rarely spotted, despite its large size. You tell someone that a giant black and blue haired cat is out there in the woods, and they would think it would be impossible to miss it. But folks do remain blind to it, which causes a real problem for them...

The feline I speak of is the otoroshi, a rather grotesque looking creature compared to its sleeker brethren. There is little lithe grace to be found in this species, with frog-like maws, hunched backs, bloated stomachs and a whole lot of black hair. Many would be surprised to learn that this is a cat, but folks that live around cypress swamps should not be too startled by this news. Indeed, the otoroshi is actually a close relative to the wompogo, which you should easily see from their features. Both possess this huge toothy maw and extendable stomach, signs that these felines like swallowing their prey whole. They both have large hooked claws that aid in both climbing and taking down prey. And when it comes to the hunt, these two love nothing more than hiding up in the trees and dropping down on those who wander below. The difference here is that the otoroshi does not live in cypress swamps, but in deciduous or coniferous forests. Any place that has big trees with hefty branches for them to lay on and wait for clueless prey, but honestly any high place will do. Some have been spotted on tall rocky outcroppings, while many will tell you that a roof or gate also serves the otoroshi's needs (but we will get more into that later). Like their swampy cousins, otoroshi are ambush predators, preferring to take down their prey in one fell swoop. Like I mentioned, they climb up trees and tall structures then lay in wait amongst the branches. Otoroshi have short blue fur, which you would imagine would make it hard for them to hide, but such color is easily hidden by their ridiculous ebony mane. From the tops of their heads, running down their back and all they way to their stubby tails grows a waterfall of long black hair. It starts off as a short crest when they are kittens, but then it begins to grow and never stops. In a few years, this dark mane practically shrouds their entire body, hiding their blue under fur and allowing them to blend into the shadows. Up high and nestled in branches, one would have a hard time spotting them, that is if the victim even bothers to look up. Otoroshi remain perfectly still when they hunt, using their large eyes and flared nostrils to keep track of possible prey. When food finally walks beneath them, they drop down with all their weight and claws, easily knocking prey to the ground. The attacks are quick and decisive, with the fate of the victim being decided within the first few seconds. If they were able to dodge most of the assault and remain on their feet, then they can run away with ease. Due to the shape of the bodies and the nature of their limbs, otoroshi are not designed for the chase. They are slow and sluggish, never able to run after a fleeing meal. So instead they rely on knocking victims off their feet, or flattening them beneath their large bodies. When their food is downed, they can lash out with hooked claws and grab hold. Once this happens, prey is doomed. What comes next is its huge jaws, lined with bony spikes and curved teeth. Prey is shoved into this great maw, which can unhinge to accommodate even larger meals, and then slowly swallowed into its expanding stomach. There its smothering gut and potent stomach acid will deal with the hefty morsel, who will pass from asphyxiation in this foul melting pot. When its prey is consumed, the otoroshi will sluggishly make its way to a tree and crawl back up into the branches. There it will lounge and digest, living a lazy life until its great meal is reduced to nothing and its gut rumbles with hunger once again. Though otoroshi live for those big belly-filling meals, it seems they will settle for small snacks if need be. Their diet involves large animals like deer, boar, bear and even human, but studies have found that they do eat a whole lot of birds. Not even big ones, mind you, little things like sparrows and doves. For a cat this size, it seems almost comical for them to be eating such tiny morsels! These birds are not taken down like their usual prey, instead the birds seem to land on them! While lounging or hunting, otoroshi remain a silent unmoving lump of hair. They look like a tangle of vegetation or just another shadow amongst the forest. In such a still state, birds are seen coming down to perch on them or the nearby branches, seemingly oblivious to the cat's presence. Some birds have even been seen pulling and tugging at the long dark hairs, perhaps thinking it could be good nesting material. When they land near an otoroshi, it will wait until their guard is dropped, then a clawed paw will lash out. Birds are crushed in its grip and then tossed into its maw. Why the otoroshi even bothers eating them is a question that has not been satisfactorily answered yet. Some think it is to stave off hunger while waiting for larger prey, but well-fed otoroshi have been seen picking off birds. Others think it is them trying to keep these birds from blowing the cover on their hiding spots, as a singing or foraging bird may cause possible prey to look up towards the noise. One less serious thought is that the otoroshi is a cat and what do cats do? Part of me thinks that perhaps these felines don't enjoy having their hair yanked by inquisitive sparrows, or getting a coating of droppings on their long locks.

While their mouths are filled with tiny hooked spikes, one should easily notice the pronounced canines that jut from their lips. Such large teeth would seem to be weapons against their food, a way to stab and gut victims who struggle. However, there doesn't seem to be any evidence that these teeth are used for hunting. Rather, it appears to be more for other otoroshi than prey. Both male and female otoroshi possess these tusks, so it isn't just the guys using them to fight over mates. Instead, it is believed that these large teeth help show age and health of each individual, allowing these cats to be able to eyeball possible competition. Prime hunting spots are fought after, but not everyone wants to deal with sharp claws and energy-wasting brawls. So we think they get around this by having tusks determine who is the victor in these squabbles, where younger cats can see an experienced veteran and know not to even bother trying to fight them for their turf. Some claim that these tusks are used to fight off predators, as it has been seen where attackers get gouged by these sharp teeth. However, close examination of these fights doesn't really show the otoroshi specifically using them to attack. Their movements and efforts do not suggest them wielding these teeth like weapons. Rather, we think these wounds are purely accidental, as the cat is really using its claws and huge maw to fight off attackers. When you are tangling with the huge jaws of an angry otoroshi, there is a high chance your struggle will cause you to stab yourself on these larger teeth.       As a big cat and an ambush predator, one could easily see them being a menace to the locals. Going about your day in the forest, when suddenly this gluttonous feline drops on your head and then swallows you whole. Not a fun time, but unfortunately one that has occurred numerous times. Otoroshi out in the wild are not too picky, any big animal will do for their belly. Humans (and even dryads) who don't pay attention to what hides above may trigger a cat to attack, and if they succeed in pinning you then you are going in the gut! So this is why it is important to watch your surroundings and be wary about going under overhanging branches or rocks. Folks around these regions have also used the mask trick to fool some otoroshi, where they think this second face means the human can see them. With such a dangerous reputation, you would think this species is reviled by all! However, it seems like they are not all despised. I brought up before that otoroshi like any high places, and that could include roofs and gates. This is because otoroshi have been acclimating themselves to the encroaching civilization and have found new places to hunt. Forest shrines have nice gates for them to perch on, and the sprawling temples roofs have plenty of room. Even if prey isn't plentiful, it proves a wonderful place to stretch out in the sun and digest. One reason it is thought that otoroshi moved into these areas is because they found humans to be the perfect deterrent. Human towns do a good job at keeping out other creatures and large predators, and they also don't climb onto their roofs all that often. So a female otoroshi may find these places great for having her kittens, as all other threats are kept at bay by the human presence. Younger cats may have taken to the gates as new places to hunt, spots that haven't been claimed by elders. At first, it sounds like these invading felines were hated and driven away, but the problem is that they kept coming back. Shooing them off or even hunting them proved difficult, as they had the high ground and also caused a whole lot of structural damage if a fight broke out. Legend says that one shrine gave up on scaring off the haunting cat and instead offered a sacrificial deer to it. They knew that these cats gorged on a single meal and then lasted on it for days, even weeks. If they could give it a fully belly, then it would have no reason to harm them until it was hungry again. This trick worked, as the otoroshi ate the bait and then climbed back onto the gate for a snooze. Days went by without incident, as the cat merely watched those who passed by with lazy amusement. When it started to look like it was hungry again, another meal was presented and accepted. After a while, the keepers of this shrine found that the otoroshi was much calmer around humans and seemed to patiently wait for its next meal. Even when they were late with feedings, it didn't attack any visitors, rather it just grumble and yowled as a signal that it wanted food. Once a meal was given, it was happy once again. As a bonus, it even ate the birds that landed on the gate, keeping it free from their droppings. This story is said to be the start of otoroshi "domestication," where several shrines and temples actually have them lounging about on their grounds. Folks of these areas see them as guardians and watchers, keeping their shrines safe from any evil spirits. Some claim that they can sniff out evil hearts or wicked intentions, and they will devour those foul souls who enter these sacred grounds. My counter to that is that vandals tend to make themselves quite loud and obvious, perhaps to the point of agitating one of these cats. Though they are accustomed to humans, that doesn't mean they won't fight back if given a reason to. These shrine otoroshi are given regular meals and offerings, which in turn keeps them peaceful and protective of their shrine. They stop associating humans as food but instead start seeing them as bringers of food. This is a neat little system that they have figured out, and I found it incredible when I visited my first shrine and saw a full grown otoroshi sprawled atop the gate. It is wonderful that they came to a peaceful coexistence, but I can't fully shake a part of me that sees trouble in it. I guess it is because some folks use the word "domestication" like these are just big house cats. I do not agree with this. An agreement has been made, that is for sure and a system has been set, but never would I say they have been domesticated. There are still parts of them that are instinctive and tied to their bestial nature, and I feel that having this romantic idea that they are adorable friendly pets can cause some problems. How many folk have tested their luck by trying to treat these creatures like house cats? When does the noise and constant presence of people start to grind their nerves? What happens if the agreement is not kept up by the humans? I personally wonder about these stories of otoroshi eating "wicked" people. Of the tales of a great cat dropping onto a nameless visitor and gobbling them, protecting their shrine from an "evil heart." Do these "guardians" actually pick out the bad souls or do the keepers of these shrines just claim them to be, so that the people cheer on what was actually a horrible accident? It isn't my place to say, but I will continue to wonder...       Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian -------------------------------------------------------

“Otoroshi”

Now lets follow up the last one with a Japanese Fearsome Critter! Gosh, they have some many of them they should really make a name for them!