#nice and easy low-effort one today

[zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta]

MiqoMarch'24, Day #18: - snow -

If there's one thing D'nyr hates with a fervant passion, it's the cold-- he runs at a warmer-than-average body temperature (the kind of person who quite literally radiates warmth), so if he's feeling chilly, you know it's for real! He dislikes how sluggish it makes him feel and the numbness in his nose, but most of all the aching in his joints-- and especially knuckles-- upon years of wear-and-tear meeting frigid winds… he supposes that if there was ever a lifetime in which he did enjoy the cold, he would have probably taken up snowboarding (he loves moving fast and feeling the wind through his hair after all). He also wouldn't mind falling in the river when fishing quite as much if he could tolerate the cold water! Despite all of this, there are still a few things he can find enjoyment in about the cold; namely how the crisp air makes one feel more alert and awake, but also in the vistas that it creates! Boreal tundras rimed with glistening icicles, tall snow-capped peaks, powdery snowfields and of course the remnants of ages past encased in permafrost, hidden away in glaciers… while he hates being in them, he can still find ways to enjoy their inherent beauty-- at a distance!

[leqonsluv3r]

valentine’s day

—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol

leon wasn’t one to heal easy.

not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.

he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.

he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.

what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.

you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.

he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.

“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.

“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.

he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.

he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.

the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.

you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.

he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.

but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.

you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.

he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.

he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.

he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.

you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.

you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.

“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.

he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.

“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.

you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.

then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”

now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.

until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.

he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”

he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.

the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.

you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.

and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.

he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.

and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.

because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.

three months later, you and leon were dating.

you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.

the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.

he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.

you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.

you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.

he loved you.

and nothing was ever going to change that.

an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)

[kichiyosh1]

He takes advantage of your feelings for him

modern au!scaramouche x reader

Ain't it nice when your crush is aware you have a crush on him and instead of being a prick and outright rejecting you he leads you on instead☺

warnings: it's in the title, good ending

༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

It all started when he overheard one of your friends teasing you for taking a liking to him, which you were doing a horrible job at denying, with how quickly you stuttered out your words in protest. He might use this to his advantage, get you to do a couple of stuff for him and tease you a little bit in the process. Of course, he doesn't plan to return your feelings, pfft, no way in Celestia is that ever gonna happen. Totally no way would he actually start to appreciate you for something as minor as that.

How fortunate unfortunate of you to be his target out of the many others that also liked him, but why did he choose you? convenience? your naivety? who knows.

He wanted to test how far this crush of yours on him was, so the next morning he put his plan into action.

He never actually greets anyone he passes by, usually hanging around outside the school before the bell rings or just having his arms folded on his desk while he dozzes off, but today he put in the effort to say good morning to you before he rounded a corner.

Quickly doing a 180° turn right after to see your reaction, and low and behold you had your back to the wall, slowly sliding down, face in your hands.

Oh, so you really had it that bad for him, huh.

He was playing a dangerous game here, one that he was determined to win, and one he knew he would thoroughly enjoy.

Moves he'd make on you were subtle, but to you, from what he thinks, should be more than just subtle interactions, but meaningful ones.

He'd intentionally lean down right beside your ear, talking in a sweet voice as he pretends to ask questions while pointing at the notes he's seen you write down.

He knows the effect he has on you, can see how your hands struggle to hold your pen while your voice slowly becomes meeker as you explain the answer.

"Cute"

He didn't even realize what he said until he saw your hand stop moving. Luckily, everything still went into his favor when you abruptly stood up and quickly explained you had something to discuss with your friend, but he could clearly see how flustered you were.

He let's out a sigh of relief. 'It's alright, I meant to do that, just trying to butter up that idiot for the next step in my plan, yeah'

Something of uneasiness steers within him, but he ignores it.

These were just feelings of interest he's PRETENDING to have for you in order to gain your trust, nothing more and nothing less. It's all an act to get you to do stuff for him

But he has yet to realize the fast pace of his heart was the same as yours

Most of his assignments were already complete thanks to you, projects and reports he's forgotten to do, you are currently dealing with them.

It baffles him how easy and gullible you are

The guilt nips at his feet, but he strengthens his resolve saying you would have fallen for somebody else, and they would have done way worse things to you. (he gets a little agitated thinking about it, whether they'd use you for their own benefit or return your feelings, it makes him sick)

guilt tripping you didn't make it easier either

he wonders if you are aware of what he's doing, and even if you were then that's alright with him.

He'll keep this up, for as long as your heart continues to beat for him.

Its really short.

was gonna write a nsfw route but idk if i should since I'm really tired😪

[t-a-k-a-k-o]

Heyyy can I ask for weight loss tips ?

Yeah! I have a few but idk if they work, it's just a couple things I have done, so yeah (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

Log ur food BEFORE eating, it is easier to stick by that way

Walking is SO much better than running, it's low impact (so it's easier for injured ppl :D) and u can keep it up much longer than a run

A brisk walk can burn more than a run, my favorite (on a treadmill) is ~4.0 mph (~6.4 km/h), it is pretty easy to stick to, you work up a light sweat, and it burns abt 250 cal per hour

Take SMALL sips of water between each bite of food, like hold a cup with a straw, take a bite with one hand and sip with the other, if it's in ur hand (or at the edge of the table) it makes it easier, at first I would take like gulps but even just enough to wet ur tongue works

Portion ur snacks, if u have a big bag of like veggie chips portion it into the recommended serving size or whatever amount u want, otherwise u might eat more and it's harder to control urself, if it's in containers or little bags whatever, just portion

Eat ur healthy food first, if u have a balanced meal eat ur vegetables and fruit first, then move up for calories, so eat ur food lowest cal to highest bc u might get full from the lower cal stuff first, save some fruit for the end of ur meal tho so ur mouth feels clean and the reason why ppl eat dessert/crave sweetness after eating is because their body is craving fruit to aid digestion

Try little workout apps (yk the stupid ones like "lose weight in 30 days) it may not be much but it gets u to burn a few extra calories in a short time if ur busy, they are fairly easy and beginner friendly, and depending on which one u can actually feel them work if u want to burn more than just a bit, it also holds u accountable

Adjust ur calorie limit by weight, if u lose like 10 lbs (4.5 kg) u can't consume the same amount of calories bc ur maintenance amount is lower now and u will plateau

I recently started this, but have a weight tracker on ur body, I have a chain that I put on like permanent jewelry around my waist, it's like African waist beads or I think in Latin America they use like a string, it makes it so if u don't know when to stop eating it will tell u by the way ur stomach expands

DRINK DRINK DRINK WATER, I try to drink at LEAST a US gallon (~4 l) every day

OMAD is one of the BEST things if u live with family, skip ur insignificant meals and the one ur family most often sits together/finds "important" is the one u eat

If ur at home and ur craving food, take a shower, take a shower, take a couple hours for self care, pamper ur skin a bit, by the time ur done u will feel fresh and the craving will probably be gone

Try to not "give up" like if u have eaten like crap and u want a cookie try to not be like "oh well I'm doing bad enough today anyway" personally that just leads to more guilt and purg1ng

Ok this one may sound a bit weird, but gaslight urself, after eating some and the feeling in ur stomach changes be like "omg I'm so full" and keep saying it aloud, and if u eat more u will lowkey be shamed by others bc they will say stuff like "I thought u were full", gaslight urself into being like "I don't feel hungry" I do those two a lot but, gaslight urself into liking things, disliking things, putting in effort, etc.

This one rly made me work out, if I am laying in bed and I am a bit (even just a teeny TINY bit) restless I tell myself "if I'm just gonna scroll [Tumblr] I might as well walk while I do it" and then I consciously get up, walk into my basement, and on this treadmill we got (it was free from a friend and the middle is broken but it functions enough, and it's still snowing where I live), it doesn't matter what u wear, as long as u can make urself get up u and exercise it's a win (esp with depression lol), I have worked out in nice little workout clothes to rly give the vibes but I have also worked out in pajamas, my 16 km walk for my birthday I did on the treadmill in fluffy socks (I got rly bad blisters so I don't recommend it but it turned out fine, I was planning on a short little walk but it just extended a whole lot) just getting urself up is a win so whatever it takes, do it

If u have workout equipment at home, u don't have to raw dog it, listen to music, read a book, scroll on Tumblr, etc. no one says u can't

In my experience eating even a bit during a fast just leads into temptation, I do better when I don't eat at all than eating a bit bc after I eat a bit I see how hungry I am

That was a lot but those r the ones I can think of off the top of my head, if I remember more I can post more if u want, but yk what? Don't feel bad, ik it sounds stupid but it rly is the best thing u can do, if u binge move on, it's in the past, if u r not able to get up and exercise that's ok, just by being ur beautiful self u burn calories, if ur exhausted and u need something to run on eat a snack, it's better to be able to keep going than drown

I don't know if anyone will rly make it all the way down here but I just want u all to know u r loved by sooo many ppl no matter what u look like, every single one of u are art and art is in the eye of the beholder, I hope ur fast goes easy and u lose a kilo before u step on a scale again

Ily all and stay safe ♡♡♡

[petriquors]

POV: you gave your neighbor your spare key

a/n: gn!reader, post-timeskip, breakups, hurt/comfort, pining

You regret giving your spare key to your neighbor, Osamu.

It started with a business trip. You needed someone to water your plants, and he didn’t mind stopping at your place on his way to work. Then, you became friends, and it became an easy way to see each other. After all, it saves you the effort of getting up and opening the door when he comes over.

This time is different.

This time, your response to seeing Osamu walk through your door isn’t a smile with crinkled eyes. It’s a dejected “You should go.”

The door closes. You hear, “Like Hell I should.”

You're laying on your side, wrapped in your favorite blanket on your sofa. Your eyes sting, so you close them and will away another wave of tears. It’s been a long day: what should have been an easy day off for you started with getting dumped by the guy you’ve been seeing.

Over text.

At 5 A.M.

“Sit up,” Osamu pauses, and you hear the rustling of a plastic bag, “or you’ll choke on your own snot.”

“Aren’t you nice?” You mutter and wrinkle your nose but sit up anyway. It’s the first time you’ve moved in over an hour, so your shoulders ache in protest, and your head spins as it reacclimates to being right side up.

After just a few minutes, Osamu brings a cup of tea into your living room. It’s in your favorite mug, and from where you’re sitting, you can already smell that it’s your favorite variety. You watch him warily, unsure what he’s going to do or why he even bothered to come. You were perfectly ready to spend today crying alone, but now there’s someone else in your space.

And if the scowl he wears is anything to go by, he won't let you be alone.

He sets the teacup down on the coffee table. You watch steam slowly billow off the liquid’s surface, wafting through the air at a pace so gentle that you feel your lungs begin to relax for the first time all day.

In the corner of your eye, you see Osamu moving again, and then he fills your vision: broad shoulders, strong jaw, worried scowl. He’s kneeling right in front of you, hands on his thighs, brow deeply creased. He’s silent. Watching you. 

Suddenly nervous, you open your mouth and say, “I’m sorry—”

He puts a hand on the sofa cushion, next to your thigh. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“But—”

He scoffs as if the very notion of you apologizing to him is offensive. “Would you let me apologize to you for accepting your help when I need it?”

You grumble because he’s right, and also because it’s hard to accept the fact that being dumped is a lot easier to deal with when you’re not all alone.

And yet, you can’t help but wonder, “How’d you find out?”

“Group chat,” he says, and that makes you roll your eyes. You told one of your other friends, so of course she metaphorically ran off to the group chat to tell everyone else—probably in the name of ripping off the Band-Aid so you don’t have to.

You close your eyes for a second that feels like an hour. Maybe if you open them again, this will all be a nightmare, you’ll be in your bed, it’ll still be the middle of the night, and you’ll still be seeing the guy who dumped you.

But that would also mean Osamu wouldn’t be kneeling in front of you. Why does the lack of Osamu bother you more than the lack of your ex?

You look down at your hands as if their lines and creases hold all the answers in the universe. They don’t. “I just wanted to mean something to him.”

“You mean everything to people that matter a lot more than him.”

His voice is so uncharacteristically low that your eyes snap up to his. His eyes are a little wide as if he can’t believe he just said that, his lips are parted as if he wants to say something more, and he swallows hard as if gulping down a mountain of emotions.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Why?” you venture.

Osamu thinks that’s an unfair question to ask, and he wants to tell you just as much. But when you look at him with wide eyes that haven’t been free from tears for hours, he realizes that you—strong, vibrant, wonderful you—need a gentle touch whether you like it or not.

He reaches for the steaming cup of tea, now cool enough not to burn you, and places it in your hands. Your fingers touch; his breath catches. Your hands are colder than he expected, so he says, “Drink.”

When you take a long sip of tea, he tries to find a few seconds of peace to sort through his own mess of thoughts. He didn’t account for the fact that you were going to close your eyes, which makes your lashes dust over the tops of your cheeks, which makes him think about wiping away your tears with his own hands.

He shouldn’t touch you like that. Maybe you’d think it’s just a friendly gesture, but he would know that he really means to take care of you better than the jerk who dumped you ever did.

And that means protecting your heart, even at the expense of his own.

He swears to himself that he won’t be a rebound. It’d be wrong to take advantage of you in a moment as vulnerable as this one, and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt you like that. But he’ll be damned if he lets you suffer like this alone.

“Thank you for being here,” you murmur, and your words stab him right through the heart. You have no idea what saying things like that does to him, to the longing he’s been feeling for you. That feeling has become so familiar to him that it feels like it’s a part of him now.

“Of course I’d be here,” he chokes out, forcing his voice to be gentle, gentle. His heart trembles and quakes when he sees what this other guy did to you, but rather than find out where this guy works and ask him what his problem is, Osamu wants to be right here, comforting you.

“You should be smiling,” he continues, unable to stop the words on their rapid descent from brain to mouth. His voice is so soft and raspy that even he doesn’t recognize himself. “You shouldn’t be worrying about what he thinks of you.”

He only wants you to be happy. It really is that simple. It always has been.

So, he silently promises himself and you that he’s going to wait. He’s going to be here for you while you heal from this, and he’ll help you heal from this—and when you’re ready, if you’ll have him, he’ll be yours.

"I brought ice cream," he changes the subject, afraid of how desperate he is to see you smile again. "Want some?"

He already belongs to you, anyway. Who cares if it takes you a little more time to realize it?

[italianhomosexuality]

rant to me (i like the sound, i like your voice) on ao3

“Nico! You're finally here!”

The ever too-chipper voice took Nico out of his thoughts. He had plans that consisted of brooding and staring, but it seems like Will Solace didn't think that behavior is appropriate for a party.

If whatever it is that's happening can even be considered a party; the Apollo cabin and some other campers decided to get together near the lake, with some soda cans, Doritos bags, and sour gummy worms. There's some music playing and chatter going around, but Nico's foam earplugs do a great job at keeping the volume low enough so that it's not overwhelming. He plays with his fingers, practicing the alphabet in sign language. Tatiana, a daughter of Nemesis, was hard of hearing. Nico became close to her since both of them would usually sit in the shadows, a few feet away from the crowds. It was easy to be around her, and he was making an effort to learn sign.

Will's voice was a little muffled by the earplugs, but taking them out would be much worse. Nico just gestured towards him, pointing in a general direction that is a little further from the noise and confusion. Will understood, because of course he did. They walked a few steps in silence, and Nico didn't bother correcting Will that he'd been here for a few good minutes now, he just didn't want to interrupt Will's conversation with Connor.

He wasn't wearing his usual orange shirt; the blue fabric suits his eyes and looks nice under the moonlight. Nico knew he's clad in cargo shorts and flip-flops without even having to look down—that's what he wears all the time, even when Nico thinks about him before going to sleep, when he thinks of the two of them under the soft orange of a sunset, sharing McDonald's fries, maybe making jokes, hands just one or two millimeters away from each other, itching to touch, aching to be intertwined…

He couldn't afford to think about that right now.

As they reached a tree, Nico offered Will a sweet smile. They were far from the crowd, watching from a distance so that they could hold a conversation even with the earplugs. It's the little things Will does; the accommodations, the giving, the gifting, the understanding, the treating him as an equal that makes Nico have some thoughts that he'd rather keep to himself.

(“Nico, I've noticed you wince and flinch when it gets too loud. What do you think of trying some earplugs? They might help. I wear them sometimes.”)

(“Nico, can you come body double me? I need to clean the infirmary and I can't do it if I'm just there by myself.”)

(“Nico, I have bad days too.”)

(“Nico, would you mind hanging around for just a little longer? I had to treat a head injury today. I don't think I'll ever get over it.”)

“Have you been having fun?” Nico asked, feeling the deep rumble of his voice in his chest. He only now noticed how Will's eyelids and cheekbones seemed to sparkle and glimmer under the moonlight. Lou Ellen must have been experimenting with makeup again.

“Yes! It's been good.” Will raised his voice just enough so Nico could still hear him through the earplugs. It's the little things, Nico's brain supplied.

“How was your day?”

After a lot of practicing with other campers, Nico realized that he enjoyed asking questions. They were an easy way of navigating a conversation and he had a premade list of questions to use in any social setting. For the most part, he asked and listened, keeping only a few bits of information, glancing at the other person's forehead and nose bridge occasionally to mimic eye contact. With Will, however, he didn't have to overthink. He'd ask, but because he actually wanted to know. He'd look at the ground while paying the most attention he's ever paid. He'd fidget and fiddle with his necklace, humming and nodding, while storing every single bit of Will's stories, stitching guides, camp rules, and so much more.

“It wasn't that great, if I'm being honest,” Will said, picking at his fingernails, “but I've been managing. It was just… hard. At the infirmary. Being by myself.”

“You could have asked me for help,” Nico said, swinging back and forth on his ankles. “I didn't do much today. I could have at least been around. Make you feel less lonely.”

Ever since Will started opening up about his mental health and struggles with himself, Nico found it easier to do so, too. Some campers thought of the Head Counselor of the Apollo cabin as this perfect, do-no-wrong, ever-happy, feel-good Care Bear. Will played the part really well, having fooled Nico at the start, but then he understood. He saw the insecurities, the blood—Will's own—pooling and drying around his fingernails, the teeth marks on the bottom lip, the nervous ticks that would come out after an especially long day. Sometimes, though their wounds were far from equal, Nico felt as if he was looking into a mirror. Maybe not a mirror, but a murky reflection on a lake. A resemblance, something similar enough to his own, but with different shapes and jagged edges.

So, as Will listed his fears and how he wished so, so badly he could be someone else, Nico felt comfortable enough, for the first time in his life, to revisit his self-hatred and coax it out for a walk. Will took it and acknowledged it, but didn't yell at it or scare it away. It was almost as if he said, “Hey, I have that, too,” and Nico finally understood the many meanings of the word gratitude.

Nico never thought he'd be able to help someone feel less lonely. He'd also never thought he'd withstand a party—a get-together—just to catch a glimpse of blonde, defined curls and butterfly-blue eyes.

It's the little things.

“I know what you will say, but…” Will caught himself, stopping mid-sentence. “I didn't want to be a bother. A hypocrite, I know, but this happens sometimes. I'll try to not let it happen again.”

“Good.” Nico smiled, feeling the warmth from inside.

It was warm enough that he'd ditched the aviator jacket, but he still kept the jeans. The breeze coming from the lake was a nice touch to the night. He looked down, finding a spot dry enough for both of them to sit, and reached out to tug at Will's hand.

He couldn't pinpoint when he had gotten so… used to physical contact. When he had started to initiate it, even. But then again, he couldn't pinpoint when Will had become Will.

Will took the hint and sat down right beside Nico, scooting closer to him so that the skin on his calf touched the black denim. It was a common position to them. Comfortable. Nico's back didn't hurt as much and he didn't feel pressured to maintain eye contact. Will got to relax his posture and relax his legs from standing all day.

“Do you want to talk about what happened today?” Nico initiated, fingers tapping on his knee. “About what made you not have such a great day.”

No one had ever ranted to Nico. They were always afraid he wouldn't care or that they would be putting too much on him, as if he were a thin, fragile table, built to break at any point. Will didn't.

So Will said, “Yeah, I think that will help,” and started.

Nico listened.

He made sure to store every tidbit of information in his Will Solace-shaped mental drawer. He would remember, in the future, that the infirmary had a shortage of darker-colored band-aids, and he would point it out next time he and Will went supply shopping. He would remember, in the future, that Kayla had offered Will coffee with hazelnut creamer and he drank it all so as to not dismiss her, but he actually hated that flavor.

(Nico already knew that. If he wasn't having his coffee black, french vanilla was the go-to.)

He would remember how Will's fingers flexed as he told Nico how he had to patch up this new camper, almost as if he was going through the motions again. He would remember how Cecil's comment about his off-tune singing while washing his hands post-procedure made Will's heart sting, though he was used to the mockery, but it just hadn't been a good day. He would remember that Will hadn't slept well that day because the sheets had been recently washed and someone had used fabric softener on them, causing the texture to be plastic-like and that it made Will's skin itch. He would remember, and he would fight against every part of his brain that forced him to forget.

Once Will deemed his rant finished, Nico finally looked at him. He looked… pretty. The golden hue that came from the sun was perfect for Will's features, but the silver complimented him. It was the missing part. It hit his skin and bounced right back, catching on the glitter on his eyelids, cheekbones, and cupid's bow, making the chapstick on his lips shine a little more, exposing the chipped pink nail polish on his fingernails.

Nico didn't think boys were supposed to be considered pretty, but most common rules made no sense to him, anyway. Will was pretty. Accepting that fact had been complicated enough. He would not put up a fight against his thoughts.

“I like hearing you talk,” Nico confessed, straightforward as always. “The sound of your voice is very calming, like a stream of water. Constant.”

“That was a very sweet compliment, Nico,” Will replied, smiling wide. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

In the background, the party was still happening. Nico could hear laughter, cans being opened, fire crackling, stomping, soft tones and chords. But Will was next to him, seemingly not wanting to go back to the crowd, so he just settled into his makeshift seat a little more.

Maybe, in the future, Nico could ask Will if he liked him back. For now, he'd rather keep making a list of the little things. Little by little, he could have Will. He just needed some time to build up courage. Maybe, in the future, Will would slip out his ideal love confession or first date.

Nico would remember.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Making It Work ~ MYG

⤜WORD COUNT:  3.9K

⤜PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

GENRE: angst, angst with a soft and happy ending, divorce proceedings, breakups, love, cute, sweet

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I wanted to go with a way that wouldn’t be impossible for reader and Yoongi to get back together, so I hope this is okay for you my love.

Today was the day that you hadn’t exactly been looking forward to for the last two months and now that it was finally here you were dreading every second of it. Divorces were a messy situation for everyone in the world but you'd been in luck when Yoongi had asked for it not to go to a large court. The two of you were going to settle everything inside of a solicitor's office, in front of a judge and all of the right witnesses. That also meant you didn't have to deal with screaming fans nor did you have to deal with flashing cameras, everything that was happening within your divorce seemed to be kept on the down low which you respected Yoongi for doing which made this a little easier. Not that this was ever going to be easy to deal with but not having to deal with a huge court of people did make it easier to manage. 

“Miss Yln, do you have your witness?” The judge asked as she looked up from her file and in your direction, your eyes looked away from the door as you turned to stare at her. Janet - the judge - had been accommodating of your situation with Yoongi and was doing everything within her power to make sure you both could do this amicably. That was the thing, even though you and Yoongi were getting a divorce from one another, there was no bad blood, no fighting over who got to keep the house or who got some of the money or shared custody over your dog...everything had just been simple and nice which worried you a little. Did Yoongi care that little that he would rather have this over and done with? Or was it simply that he just wanted you to move on and give you whatever you wanted? It was so hard to read him when you didn't see him anymore. God, you hadn't even seen him since the day you'd walked out on him.

“Yes, my friend Chan.” You answered her, glancing over at your shoulder to see Chan sitting in his seat with a warm smile on his face. Ever since the breakup with Yoongi Chan had been the one person in your life you could turn to whenever you needed something. The man had been there from the moment you’d walked out of your shared home with Yoongi and decided to go through the divorce. You'd been staying with Chan and his roommates for a while until you felt comfortable going back home and it was nice to have a friend there that wasn't directly in contact with Yoongi.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Chan." She smiled a little turning her attention back to you as she directed the last question,

"Do you know where Mr Min is?” You glanced down at your phone to check the time, it was way past the time he was supposed to be here and you knew he was either caught up in work or traffic. It was always the thing he would blame whenever he was late for something important. Like your anniversary dinner, the whole reason this divorce was happening was because of Yoongi’s addiction to his work.

“You knew what this day meant to me Yoongi and yet you still didn’t bother to show up, not even a text to let me know where you were,” You stared at your boyfriend who was in his usual spot in his studio, hunched over the desk with his earphones on one ear and not the other. The same spot he'd been in two nights ago when you came to remind him about your family coming to visit you.

“I got busy,” Yoongi merely grumbled without saying anything else to you about it, his eyes never leaving the screen not even for a second to look in your direction. It was as if he had no idea what the day even was which broke you even more. There was a time in your relationship when Yoongi would drop everything to spend time with you and now it felt as though you were constantly putting in all of the effort only to meet resistance.

“Do you know what today was?” You quizzed, placing one hand on your hip and waiting for him to turn and look at you. One look would inform him that you were dressed in formal attire and that tonight was your anniversary, not only an anniversary but the day your family were all coming to your house to have a nice formal meal with the two of you. Yet, your husband hadn’t even bothered to show up to meet his family-in-law nor had he wished you a happy anniversary.

“Yeah. that meal with your family. But I’ve had other stuff on my mind-” Yoongi had spun on his chair a little to see you and he stopped speaking when he saw what you were wearing. You looked completely breathtaking and he smiled a little, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he took in the sight of you. There was no denying that you looked completely hot in what you were wearing and he let out a low growl at the sight of you.

“Our anniversary,” You told him plainly, ignoring the way your heart was racing at the way he was checking you out. You didn’t care that he found you hot right now, all you cared about was the fact that he had missed your anniversary and made you look like a fool in front of your family and the restaurant the meal had been at. 

“No, our anniversary is the 30th and-” Yoongi shook his head at you, he would know when his own anniversary was, he'd had it written down on the desk calendar.

“Yoongi, it is the 30th,” You mumbled, scoffing a little as you shook your head and looked up at the ceiling trying not to let the tears completely take over. If you cried in front of him you'd feel completely weak and that was the last thing you wanted. Right now, you wanted him to come home and let all of this go so you could at least spend the night of your anniversary together. But he didn't even move from his desk, he just shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. For a while now it felt as though Yoongi didn’t give a shit about you or anything that was going on in your life, every day felt like a losing battle and you were finally having enough. This had been the straw that broke the camel's back so to say.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’ve been so busy lately I didn’t even realise what date we were on,” He sighed, running his hands through his long unkempt hair. Normally you would have dragged him out for a haircut by now and made sure he was looking after himself but it was hard to even get to see him with how busy he was and how stubborn he was when it came to working. You knew things would be like this with Yoongi and you’d signed up for that when you’d agreed to marry him, you knew there were going to be good and bad days but right now it seemed there were bad then there ever was good. 

“But you’re not, if you were sorry you wouldn’t keep doing this.” You gestured around his studio as you drank in everything that was going on inside. There were blankets all over the sofa letting you know that he was sleeping there - which you knew already since you were waking up to an empty bed every morning. Then there were the takeout containers left over the spare sides, the stubble on your husband's face and the sloppy state of him. 

“I have to get this work done, you knew this when you agreed to marry me,” He grumbled, throwing his vows back at you. Part of his handwritten vows was about you accepting that his work was important to him. Something you'd agreed to and accepted for years now but it didn't make it any easier to see Yoongi harming his mental and physical health for a bit of music.

“Yes, I knew that. I also knew that you knew when to take a break and weren’t going to go into burnout all of the time,” You snapped angrily, you didn’t want to get so angry with him but it was difficult when your own husband couldn’t see what he was doing to himself and his marriage.

“You’re prioritising your work before yourself. When was the last time you showered?” You stared at his greasy hair and then down at his beard, it was as if he didn't care what he looked like as long as he got his work done. Something, that you'd come to notice over the years, was something he did right before having a burnout. The last thing Yoongi needed right now was to be burnt out at work, you needed him to come home where he could relax just a little.

“I can smell you from here. You need to shower, put yourself before your work for once-”

“I can do whatever I want, I need to get this finished.” He snarled, turning back to his computer and sliding the second headphone back onto his head without hitting play on anything. You stared at the screen as you realised he wasn't composing or even listening to anything and you shook your head.

“You need to look after yourself,” You breathed out, moving to stand closer to him as he shook his head at you. Yoongi didn't want to to fight right now, he was about an hour's work away from finishing the songs he needed to do and then he would go home.

“What I need is for my wife to leave me alone while I finish working on something that earns us both money,” He hissed out at you, your heart clenched inside of your chest. Yoongi had snapped at you about leaving him alone before but never like this,

“You used to love me taking care of you,” You laughed dryly, moving around the office as you began to put take-out containers into a bin, trying your best to clean up the place even a little so he could start the process looking after himself.

“You used to let me come and see you every day, bring you food and make sure you showered,” You stared at him as he continued to work on something, either playing ignorant to what you were saying or he really couldn’t hear you over the music. You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head as you moved closer to his desk and stretching your hand out to take the mug that was beside his keyboard, only he moved suddenly making you jump and knock the mug - and its contents - all over the pages that were on the desk.

“Shit,” you hissed out, watching as the coffee started to stain the pages, smudging the ink that was all over them.

“What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing?!” He yelled, jumping up from his desk and grabbing the sheets, shaking them and letting the coffee splatter everywhere inside of the room while you shook your head,

“It was an accident, I was just trying to clean up and help-”

“I don’t need your help,” He grumbled staring at the music sheets in his hands that were now completely unreadable and ruined thanks to you.

“You say that every time but you know you need me Yoongi. You just don’t-”

“I don’t need you anymore! I’m fine on my own!” He yelled out at you, staring you in the eyes as you felt the burn of every word scoring into your veins and making its way directly to your heart.

“Yeah? Then I guess you don’t need a wife anymore!” You quipped at him, hoping that maybe he would see the error in what he'd said to you.

“Maybe I don’t!” He screamed at you, and you were quick to leave the room, slamming the door behind you praying he would follow after you but he never did.

You thought - back then - that maybe things would blow over and that the two of you would kiss and makeup but it never happened. Yoongi stopped replying to you and the two of you gave up on everything you’d been building together for almost nine years and said to get a divorce.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon, your honour. I can call-” You didn’t have a chance to finish what you were saying when the door burst open and a very sweaty-looking Yoongi appeared to be standing there. While he was dressed smartly it didn’t match the rest of him, his hair was a mess and far too long for him, he had a beard growing and not to mention there were bags under his eyes letting you know he hadn’t been sleeping yet again. A pang of guilt took over you as you saw him, you knew you shouldn’t care that he was like this but you couldn’t help it. You still loved Yoongi with every part of your body and nothing was ever going to change that for you, even if you were getting a divorce.

“I’m sorry your honour, I was running late because of my alarm and then traffic was bad so I got out and ran here,” You stared at Yoongi as he spoke to the judge but only looked in your direction, his eyes never leaving you while your heart raced against your chest. It felt as though you’d just finished running here and not the other way around, Yoongi's mouth ran dry as soon as he saw you standing there. He'd been getting texts from Chan for the last two months with updates about you, he wanted to know how you were doing and if you were truly okay with this divorce and while Chan told him you seemed fine you never were. 

It was always going to be hard letting go of someone you'd loved for so long and if truth be told, you didn't even want to go through with all of this.

“Sit down and we will proceed.” The judge motioned for him to take a seat opposite you but Yoongi didn’t move an inch, he just stared at you and shook his head. If this was really going to be the last time he would get to see you he needed to get his feelings out onto the table and stop avoiding them.

“Can I have a moment with her?” He questioned, glancing in the direction of the judge and back to Yoongi. It was as though he was scared you would disappear if he looked away for too long.

“A moment?” The judge asked, arching an eyebrow at the two of you while you slowly looked away from Yoongi, trying not to let yourself get too caught up in him, Chan leant forward on his chair to check on you.

“You okay?” He whispered as Yoongi continued to ask for some time with you, his voice shaking a lot as you nodded your head at Chan. He knew you'd been wanting to avoid being alone with Yoongi for a while but now Yoongi was here and he wanted to be alone you wanted the exact same thing.

“Fine, you should go and let the boys know you’ll be late,” You whispered to him, letting him leave the room along with the judge and lawyers that had been waiting for Yoongi to arrive. Everyone had been on time for this except for him but Yoongi didn’t even care. It was all true about him being late and the reason. The alarm hadn’t woken him up because, for the first time in months, he’d finally gotten the sleep he had been desperately needing. 

“Yn,” He breathed out, sitting beside you and placing his hands on top of yours, enjoying the way a spark went through both of you. It might have been two months since he’d gotten to speak to you or even be in the same room as you but every feeling he had for you was still there.

“Yoongi, you show up late and you kick them out? What’s going on with you?” Your eyebrows knitted together as you drank him in, shaking your head as you got a closer look at him. The need to be closer to him was eating you up inside, the need to be near him and be held by him eating you away one bit at a time.

“I need you to come back, don’t sign the papers,” Your heart practically stopped beating inside of your chest. This whole thing had been his idea, the divorce was his idea to get and now he was asking you this.

“What?” Your voice cracked, barely able to hold up the question as you stared at him, your eyes scanning over his face for any sign that this was some kind of sick joke from him. Or maybe this was all a nightmare and you hadn't even woken up yet to get to the solicitor's office.

“Don’t sign the papers, don’t…please..please just don’t,” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, there was a pleading tone in his voice as he begged for you not to do this. For weeks now he'd been wondering how he was going to get you out of doing this, to come back to him after he'd been the one to push you away but all of this time apart confirmed one thing in his mind.

There was no way on this planet, or another...or even in another universe that he was ever going to be able to live without you.

“You don’t know what you’re saying Yoongi,” You murmured, sliding your hands out from him but he was quick to grab them and hold them against his chest, looking deep into your eyes as he searched for any sign that you still loved him.

“I do, I need you…Okay? I was an idiot to go through all of this and I realise that now,” He pleaded with you, his voice breaking with each word that he spoke.

“You don’t need me to remember, you said it yourself.” You tried to take your hands back but he wasn’t allowing them to budge no matter how hard you tried. 

“I was an idiot Yn, please.” You shook your head at him, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as you stated at him, this was all too little to late. Maybe if he'd come to you a few weeks ago this could have been different but you were about to sign the final papers, the final goodbye to one another.

“We’re about to sign the final papers,” You stared down at the papers on the table in front of you, everything had been agreed to between you and the lawyers. Janet had even said it was the easiest divorce she'd ever had to bare witness to.

“And I am begging you not to, I’ll do anything,” he whispered to you, your eyes staring back at him as you tried to sense if any of this was real if he even meant what he was saying. You couldn't go back to the way it was before, watching him ruin his body for the sake of work.

“Yoongi…” You trailed off, your hand slowly being released from his grasp as you ran it over his cheek, sighing when you watched him leaning into your touch and enjoying the way it felt to have you close. This was all yoongi had been thinking about for months, he’d done nothing but miss you from the moment he willingly let you walk out of his office.

“I should have chased after you that day,” He told you as you stared at him, your breathing getting caught in your throat as you watched him.

“You should have,” you laughed weakly, you’d wanted him to come after you and tell you he took everything he said back that day but he never did. He never showed up, not even back at the house when you were there.

“You never came back to tell me you didn’t mean it,” You whispered, your eyes screwed tightly shut as you shook your head.

“You didn’t come back either,” Yoongi shuffled closer to you, running his thumb under your eyes to stop the tears from falling but it only caused them to fall faster.

“Because I was exhausted and upset Yoongi. It was our anniversary,” your voice cracked and he nodded his head, he knew he'd done wrong and that it was going to take a lot more than a simple "I'm sorry" to fix everything that happened between you but he was going to give it his all.

“I fucked up badly, and I know there’s no coming back from it but I want to try and move on from it. I don’t want to lose you,” you stared at him as he pleaded with you, a small knock coming from the door.

“Not everything can be fixed with a simple apology” You moved away from him and shook your head, using the sleeve of your blazer to wipe under your eyes and shake your head at him.

“So then we work on things, every day. We go to counselling, we get help and we work through this together,” You stared at him again and swallowed the lump in your throat, the knocking on the door getting louder, you had no double that it was probably Chan wanting to know what was going on.

“Let's try it again…if you want to?” Yoongi suggested as he stared at you, you wanted to, you wanted to do everything to make it work with Yoongi again so you nodded your head.

“Let's do it,” You whispered as he smiled brightly, staring at you before wrapping you in a tight embrace, your shoulders relaxed completely as you started to cry into his shoulder. After all this time it still felt incredible to be with him.

“Shall I let the judge know?” chan chuckled from the doorway as you nodded and sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you let yourself relax in Yoongi's arms.

“You’re late, you’re late for a very important date,” Yoongi teased as you rushed into the room and panted heavily, traffic had been a nightmare getting here and your boss had managed to make you stay later than anticipated. 

“Makes a change, it’s normally you,” You smirked at him, dropping down onto the sofa beside him and laying your head down on his shoulder and trying to catch your breath.

“Shh,” He whines, tickling your sides and pulling you closer to him. The two of you were here for your monthly session with your couples therapist, who was discharging you from their service as of today. It had been a rough nine months that the two of you were going through but every single second had been worth it now that you were making your marriage work with one another,

“Love you,” You giggled, leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly before the door opened and you were both ready for your last session together.

Tagline: @millenniumspec @chiisaiblog @rjsmochii @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @army24--7 @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @ratherbfangirling @psychosupernatural​ @lyoongx​ @periandernyx​ @laylasbunbunny​ @royallyjjk​ @critssq​ @pearlygraysky​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @meowmeowisdaname​ @imafivestarkpopstan​

[giggly-squiggily]

Bunk Wars (Fire Force)

Heyo! It's my birthday (Nov.13)! *celebratory dance* I have a little tradition I do (mostly) every year here where I write something completely self indulgent to celebrate. This year...hasn't been fun, but today's gonna be a good day regardless! I hope y'all are having a good day today as well!

This year I bring you Fire Force! I've been rewatching it lately and just- I miss my blonde Knight King lols. Shinra and Arthur are a hoot, so I wanted to write for them again! I hope you like it :3

Summary: Shinra and Arthur fight over the top bunk every night cause OF COURSE they do.

Ever since Arthur came to Company 8; bedtime is no longer just that.

“I call top bunk!”

It’s war.

“The hell you are!” Shinra picked up his pace as he ran towards their room, neck and neck with the supposed knight king. If he were to be honest with himself; it really didn’t matter who got the top. Shinra slept in both; he didn’t have much of a preference.

But Arthur? Arthur always called top bunk- saying “A knight king needs a throne to look upon his people.” Shinra could have been nice and just let him have it, but that was too easy.

He liked to make Arthur work for it.

“GAH! Move over!” Shinra yelped when he was squished into the doorframe, Arthur trying to shoulder his way past. They were cheek to cheek, arm to arm, two thrashing bodies writhing to push through like two fish going upstream. “I got here first!”

“Says the devil himself! I got here first!” Arthur growled back, a centimeter closer. Shinra pushed forward and-

“Whoa!” Both boys yelped when they squeezed in, falling on their faces in the most unceremonious fashion. Shinra rubbed his face with a low groan as Arthur puffed his bangs up and away. “You good, knight king? No broken bones?”

“A devil worried for his opponent? A rare one you are.” Arthur sat up, rolling his neck. “I am unhurt- yourself?”

“I’ve been worse.” Shinra nodded. They sat like that for a second.

Then- “The top bunk is mine!” Arthur darted for the ladder, Shinra right beside him. “Back devil! I touched it first!”

“You son of a- that’s not how this works!” Shinra pulled at his shirt as Arthur tried to climb, keeping him within reach. “What kind of knight would you be if you didn’t duel for it properly?”

“Knight king! And….I suppose you’re right.” Arthur paused to consider. Shinra took his chance.

“Tricked ya!” Shinra pulled again, hoping the force of his yank would send Arthur flying off. But no- this son of a biscuit gripped tighter in preparation!

“Good try, Devil; but once a Knight King such as myself sees your tricks, he prepares!” Smug as ever, Arthur tsked as he reached for the next leg up the ladder, preparing to climb. “Good effort though.”

“Oh, so you think you seen all my tricks, huh?” Shinra kept one hand on his shirt while the other wormed towards his exposed ribs. “Did you forget about this one?”

“Please- what are you-EHEHE!” Arthur all but squeaked, ten fingers pressing into both sides of his ribcage at the same time. “Aehahhahahaha! No! Nohohoho faiahhahair! Dehehhevil!”

“That’s right- I AM a devil! And I’m gonna use all the dirty tricks in the book to reclaim MY throne!” Shinra snickered behind him as he carried on scribbling into his ribs, watching Athur crumble before him. “Come on, be a good knight and hand it over.”

“Knihihihihihight Kihihiihihing! Gehehehhet it rigihihih-Ehehehhahahhaha Shihihiihnra!” Those dastardly hands moved up to his upper ribs! One move more and he’d be getting the armpit ticking of a lifetime! “Stahhahap thahahaht! Doohohohohn’t tihiihhickle mehehehhehe!”

“Give me the top bunk then!” Shinra demanded. Arthur tried swatting him away with one hand, the other hanging on to the ladder. With another tug, he had the blonde on his feet once more. A second tug took him to the floor, Shinra straddling his waist as he carried on tickling that awful spot. “Make this easy for yourself, Arthur.”

“Nehehehehhehver! Aheahhahahhaha! This is nohoohohohohothing!” The blonde declared, shooting his hands out and grabbing Shinra’s sides. “Tahhahahke that!” He cried as Shinra spasmed and hooted.

“Oooohhoh no! You’re not doing tha-ahehahahhat! Stahahp NO!” Shinra tried to keep tickling, but Arthur was determined! With what little strength he had left, he pushed Shinra off of him with tickling fingers, pinching along his waist and lower ribs the way he knew would kill the other boy. “Ahahhhahahahrthuhuhuhuhur!”

“Oh, what’s wrong? What happened to your chanting, Devil? Don’t you WANT the top bunk?” Arthur teased, changing up his tickle style as he began kneading small circles into Shinra’s hips, making him kick and squeal. “Do you submit?”

“NEheehehehhehehhever! Aheahhhahahha I stihihihiihll gohohohot my oohohohohohoohown trihihihiihhicks!” Shinra reached out, going for the kill.

“EHEHE!” Arthur all but shrieked when his belly was jabbed, sending him falling back. Shinra quickly pounced, shoving Arthur’s shirt up with one hand. “NO! No don’t you dare, Devil! Don’t you dare-”

“I’m a devil-hero, thank you!” Shinra smirked before diving down, blowing a massive raspberry into Arthur’s belly. The blonde shrieked, arching beneath him before bursting into loud cackly laughter. “Do YOU submit, Knight king?”

“AHEHAHAHAHHAHA! NOHOHOHOOHO NOT THAHAHAHAHHT! AHEHHEHEHE DON’T BITE!” Arthur howled when Shinra mock-bit him, using the points of his teeth for maximum tickles. “AHEHAHAHHA OKAHAHAHKY OHHAHAKY TAKE THE BUNK! THAHHAKE THE BUNK!”

“Hm? You mean it?” Shinra smirked as he resurfaced, prodding along Arthur’s sides to keep him giggling. “Are you gonna give me the top bunk?”

“Yehahhahhahs! Yes, tahahhahake it! Ahehahahhahaa!” Arthur nodded frantically, easing as the tickles finally came to an end. “Yohohohou suck!”

“Not very chivalrous of you.” Shinra teased, laughing even harder when Arthur flicked him a rude gesture. “Man- I’m so glad we’re roommates!”

“You are?” Arthur seemed surprised by that, sitting up as Shinra got cozy in his reclaimed nest. “I thought you hated me?”

“When did I say I hated you?” Shinra blinked, equally surprised. “Sure, you can be a real pain in the ass, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I’m glad we’re bunk mates.”

Arthur sat there, really taking it in. Then he hid in his bangs, smile wobbly.

“Of course- it’s annoying how loud you snore.” Shinra added, earning a shocked laugh from the other. “And let’s not even get started on how bad you smell when you fa-”

“SHUT UP!” Arthur threw his pillow at him, smacking Shinra dead in the face. Their original battle carried on- pillows flying and laughs bouncing off walls until Hinawa yelled “SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP” from down the hall.

Later that night, Shinra dared a peek over the edge of the bed, finding Arthur awake and staring up at the bed above him. “Hey…do you want the top bunk? I don’t mind trading.”

“Hm…nah. I like it down here.” Arthur snuggled further in his sheets, comfy. “We’ll see about tomorrow though.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” Shinra nodded, disappearing in his bed once more- a smile in his voice. “Goodnight, Knight King.”

“Goodnight, Devil hero.”

Thanks for reading!

[cannibalisticskittles]

He’d had her pegged as an easy mark from the beginning, so quick to forgive a knife at the neck as she was. Quick to offer that neck for a bite, too, and to defend his continued presence to the rest of the group. 

True to form, it had only taken the suggestion of an evening to themselves and she was hooked – all wide eyes and hitched breaths, reduced to stumbling over her words as her face slowly but steadily flushed from its usual purple to a deep plum. Even through today, she’s had trouble looking him in the eye, flushing faintly each time he’s entered her line of sight.

But it still comes as a surprise when, the very moment that the first of the tent stakes breaks ground in camp, Amity stands up and declares, “I’ll scout the perimeter. And Astarion will go too.”

Eager.

He’s almost impressed – he didn’t think she had it in her to be quite so bold. A little annoyed, too, if he's honest. He isn’t as prepared as he'd like to be; so much for setting a scene. But he'll manage. Let it not be said that he isn't resourceful.

And she's already started scurrying to the treeline around camp, heedless of the eyes on her back, so – why not?

Astarion – far more aware of the presence of prying eyes, but uncaring – follows.

It takes some effort to catch up with her, though it isn’t exactly difficult; as far as she’s gotten, she is anything but subtle, and the sound of her movement is a beacon leading him straight to her. There won’t be a twig left unsnapped by the time she's done here.

She’s out of breath when he finally matches stride with her. Amity doesn’t even fully turn to look at him, just glances askance and returns to forging boldly – and loudly – ahead.

Where exactly does she intend to go? There’s nothing but dense trees in this direction for – miles, most likely. He hadn’t had the opportunity to find a nice, secluded spot like he had intended, but as far as he’s aware, she never had the opportunity to slip away from the group to find one, either. Unless she’s been sneaking away in the middle of the night, only to return before dawn and make a show of sleeping in later than any of them – but no, those snores of her always seem genuine. And consistent. 

They’re unlikely to just stumble upon a clearing, blundering through the underbrush as they are. All this accomplishes is taking them further and further from the relative safety of the camp. With this in mind, when she next reaches up to push aside a low-hanging tree branch, Astarion catches her wrist gently before she can duck underneath.

She looks back. Her eyes flick to his, briefly, and then away again. 

“Now, Amity, dear, don’t you think that’s far enough?”

“Is it?” She peers around, as though there’s anything to see but identical trees in every direction, then lets go of the branch. “You’re probably right. It’s been a while since I've done this. And I suppose distance is sort of arbitrary at a certain point anyway; covering enough ground is at odds with covering a manageable amount of ground, and it can be difficult to know how far is too far as opposed to not far enough, and–”

He can feel another outpouring of words beginning. She’ll go on at length like this for far too long, he knows. If he lets her. 

So he won’t. Luckily for him, he has recently discovered a way to still her speech. Still holding her wrist, he strokes a thumb over the delicate skin there, feeling the way her pulse flutters in response.

Whatever words she meant to say die unsaid. “...well. Um. As long as we stay alert, I’m sure it’s fine. Even a small perimeter is useful, once it’s been secured.”

“Hmm.” It’s almost a hum; a tuneless little noise. Is that really what’s on her mind now? Or – is she just putting on a polite front? Difficult to tell when she refuses to pull her eyes away from the greenery surrounding them. “I can’t make any promises about that, darling.” She angles her head, and he answers her unspoken question with a soft chuckle. “We’re finally alone, after all, and I would much rather focus on you.”

Immediately, a deep flush creeps up her cheeks. How easy it is to elicit a reaction from her. 

“Oh,” she says, “I–” Though she struggles for a moment to put voice to that particular thought, she seems unable to. “Oh,” she simply says again. “Well. I… see.”

There’s a slight pull against his hold as she leans back, and he releases his grasp on her wrist obligingly. She immediately sweeps that hand through her dark hair, pushing it away from her eyes – though she still does not meet his gaze directly. In fact, she locks her eyes somewhere off to the side. The motion reveals the remains of her gift from the other night – puncture marks, faded from that initial raw red to a fainter pink around the edges, though they do look just a touch raw even now.

Astarion takes a half-step closer. Amity tenses, her breath stuttering, but she does not move away – and, for the first time tonight, she looks at him and nowhere else. Her eyes are golden and wide – at first. Then her lids flutter as if in anticipation of his touch as he moves closer again, a mere hairsbreadth separating them.

“I think,” he murmurs, raising a hand to trace the column of her throat, feather-light, as she shivers, “you would prefer that, too. Wouldn’t you?”

“I…”

His fingers come to rest over the marks. He could freshen those up for her. Astarion knows she’s aching for that, if the way she squirmed beneath him that night is any indication – and of course it is. 

“I think,” he says softly, “you would. I think you want to be the center of attention tonight. You deserve it, after all. I think you want to be seen. To be known. To be tasted.”

She swallows hard. “I… want…” He angles his head ever so slightly closer, and for a moment, her eyes slide shut. “I want–” 

And then she shakes her head and seems to find the will to open those heavy eyelids again, though the act appears to take a great deal of effort on her part.

“–to… talk to you, actually. About that. I want – to clear things up.”  Amity straightens and ever-so-gingerly pushes his hand away, then quickly clutches her hand close to her chest. She draws in a deep, bracing breath. “Astarion, you don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me.”

…what? “Is that what you’re worried about?” He tilts his head as he regards her carefully. 

She frowns, then nods. “Before, you said… you said you wanted to repay me.”

“Darling, that was more of an excuse than anything. Think nothing of it.”

“I – I have to think of it,” she protests. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me. And I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do out of a sense of… obligation towards me.”

Astarion tsks his tongue. “Obligation? Perish the thought. No, darling, I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for far too long. If it makes you feel better, then fine, don’t think of this as repayment, think of it as… an indulgence.”

“An indulgence?” She repeats, looking fully befuddled. 

“In you, my dear. In each other.” Gods above, she cannot truly be this naive. 

“No, I – I gather that, yes,” she says. She pinches the bridge of her nose briefly before continuing. “What I mean to say is – why?”

“Why does anyone do this sort of thing?” he asks breezily. “For fun. Isn’t that what you want?”

He hadn’t thought it was possible for her to flush any darker, but she does now. “That’s – besides the point, and also, not what I meant. Why do you want… me?”

Now, what kind of a question is that? “Can’t you imagine why?”

She shakes her head firmly. “I cannot.”

Of course she can’t. He huffs, but is quick to paste a charming smile on his face once more.

“Well,” he says, “where to begin? After all, you're a vision. You really are something to behold.”

His mind kicks into overdrive. Now, what is she most likely to be receptive to? Bearing, general demeanor; something about finding that irritatingly persistent streak of charitability irresistible? Or… perhaps it’s better to single out something present from the very beginning. People do like feeling special after all, and to be seen immediately taps into that sense quite nicely. So, then, what? Complexion, eyes, hair – well, hair might be a difficult one; it looks like someone has haphazardly taken a knife to those curls. Assuming she recognizes that fact, she’s likely to see through that one. But the rest should be easy enough to inspire some honeyed words. 

Eyes are always a safe bet. The window to the soul, and all that. 

“…your lovely eyes, for one,” he says. “Such beauty could not be overlooked.” 

“My… eyes,” she repeats flatly.

He pivots smoothly to the next point. “And how could I ignore the temptation of that finely-crafted body of yours?”

“Hmm,” is all she says. 

It’s difficult to parse the expression on her face; her brow is slightly knit, as it was before, and her eyes, pupilless as they are, reveal nothing. But… it’s a far cry from the enraptured, doe-eyed look she’d given him the other night, so perhaps a change of tactics is required; a move away from specificity.

“But really, there’s just something about you – it’s difficult to put into words, but I knew from that first moment that you would ruin me.” The flush returns; her brow unknits. Good. He’s on the right track at last. “It should come as no surprise; I’m sure I’m not the first to be drawn in by your particular charms.” Though perhaps they, too, were driven off by the intensity of her questions, if she demands this level of reassurance from all her would-be lovers.

“The first–” And she frowns deeply. “…Astarion, what are you playing at here?”

He blinks. “What?” That’s… far from a warm reception. 

“Where is this coming from? The – want? And the, the flowery words?”

His pulse cools. “Coming from? Whatever do you mean? All I intend is to share a night of depraved carnal lust with you, is that so hard to believe?”

But the hard line of her brow does not soften. “Yes.”

A flicker of frustration. Why must she be so – obstinate? It’s not as though she’s been particularly discerning about the nonsense she accepts from anyone else throughout their travels. Why does she have to choose now to grow a sense of doubt?

“If words alone aren’t enough to prove my desire,” he says, as slowly and patiently as he can manage, “why don’t you allow me to show you?” 

“I – n-no. No, I don’t want that. And I – I – I don’t think you really want that either.” In an instance, all that hesitation turns to fury, as she turns now-accusatory eyes on him. “So what do you want? And don’t say it’s me.”

“What am I meant to say, then?” he snaps. And where on earth is this hostility coming from? “I don’t know what more I can say to convince you–”

“Oh, so you didn’t have more pretty words prepared?” Amity snorts. “What, weren’t you going to compliment my horns next? My fangs?” Her voice takes on a singsong, mocking tone he’s never heard her use before. She reaches for her tail, and lets the length of it slip through her fingers. “My tail? Come off it, Astarion, what do you really want?”

“You–” The word comes out in a hiss he hadn’t intended, but it’s too late to pull that back now – particularly when he sees how her lip curls into a smirk at the sound. “–are infuriating.”

She lets out a short, sharp laugh. “That feels honest, at least. Go on, then; tell me how you truly feel.”

“I think I’ve been quite clear about that already,” he snaps. “And yet here you are, demanding still more from me. What will it take to satisfy you? How much praise do you demand?”

“To satisfy–” She chokes on the words.

“Yes, dear, something I gather you have trouble with, hmm?”

“You–” She gapes at him. “You’ve done nothing but spout trite lines! What am I meant to think of that?”

“And you were hoping for something else then, is that it?” Irritation flares hotly in the pit of his stomach. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“And what did you mean, exactly? What more would you ask of me?”

“I don’t know, something other than – than–” She throws out her hands. “–than whatever in the hells this flattery is. Astarion, you can’t really expect me to believe that you knew from that first moment I would ruin you? That you really were lost in my eyes when you were sizing up the angle you needed to press your knife to my throat? That’s absurd. So – some honesty would be nice!”

He laughs, a sharp, bitter sound. “You want to talk about honesty? How about this for a start: what exactly were you expecting to happen, hmm?” Astarion waves a hand, gesturing broadly around them. “That we would come out here and… talk?” The word comes out sickly, stickily sweet. “Really?”

Her mouth opens, but no sound emerges. She blinks once, twice, a third time. When she finally speaks, her voice is reproachful. “…yes?”

This time, his laugh is drawn out – and markedly harsher. “And that merited coming all this way? Leaving the camp behind? Wandering into the woods to be alone with me, all so you could – divest me of the idea that I owed you?” He adopts a slight lilt for this last phrase, a tribute to her own way of speaking. She does not seem to appreciate the gesture, if the way her eyes narrow is any indication. “And then everything would be right as rain, and we’d… walk happily back to camp together? 

This time, her answer is a touch less reproachful and much more hesitant. “…yes.”

“No, no, no.” He points an accusatory finger at her. Amity’s gaze flickers to his hand as her mouth twists into a scowl. “You shook and shivered like a leaf in my arms and now here you are, acting as though you’re so above it all.” There’s a slight twinge of satisfaction in the way his words make her lips twist. “So unmoved by my trite lines. And yet…”

Astarion begins to lean closer. As before, she tenses but does not move away – but he can see her breath quicken, and can almost hear how her pulse stutters in response. 

The more he prods at this, the more she shrinks back. She has a certain naivité about her that suggests inexperience, so he… ventures a guess. 

“...and yet you’re here. Seems to me you weren’t just hoping to talk, were you? No, you wanted something more – you’re practically aching for it. But you're frightened.”

The baring of teeth this remark earns feels like it’s hit its mark, and spurs him on to continue. 

“You were looking for a reason to back out all this time, weren’t you? And now you blame me because it isn’t whatever grand romance you’d built up in your head and you can’t bear to admit that. How’s that for honesty?”

“I – you can't be serious,” she blanches. 

“Oh, but I very much am.”

“Astarion, that’s–” She frowns, but something softens in her expression as she shakes her head. “That is not what’s happening here.” Her words are gently delivered – unbearably, patronizingly comforting.

It's awful.

“Isn’t it?” Astarion tilts his head, watching her closely. “Maybe you’re right.” Something like relief crosses her face at his words. “Perhaps… you don’t even know what you’re after. Is that it, then?” The relief in her expression disappears. Good. “Has anyone ever measured up to your lofty expectations? Or have you been too uptight to let them get close? Too… needy for your would-be lovers?”

Her first attempt at a response only elicits a strangled, reedy squawk. “You really think that I – that I–”

The fact that she can’t even bring herself to finish that thought convinces him that yes, he’s got her figured out.

“Oh, yes, I very much do think ‘that.’” He pulls back and pretends to examine his nails. Though – ugh, there is some dried viscera there. “If you’d told me earlier, dear, I wouldn’t have bothered. I don’t often make a habit of defrosting frigid little ice queens; I do have better things to do with my time, you know.”

“You are such a–” She bites back whatever she was going to say next in lieu of a scowl, but he can’t help but to goad her on.

“Such a…?” he prompts, a hand cupped around one ear to better hear her answer.

“Bastard!” She bites out.

“Why must you be so – so–” She hisses out a breath through her teeth, drawing herself up to her full height – though this still isn’t nearly enough to raise her past his eye level. “Vexing!” And then she huffs, turns on her heel, and abruptly stomps off deeper into the woods.

He doesn’t bother to quiet his laugh at this rather uncharacteristic display of vulgarity from her.

“I was just trying to help, and you – you –” She hisses out a breath through her teeth, drawing herself up to her full height – though this still isn’t nearly enough to raise her past his eye level – and then she huffs, turns on her heel, and abruptly stomps off deeper into the woods.

He calls out after her as she goes, falsely cheery. “Ta-ta, darling; maybe you’ll find someone more to your liking out there!” He doesn't let his smile drop until he is sure she is well out of sight.

So much for that plan.

[threadsun]

Anonymous Asks: "can you write a tall!Y/N walking up behind Barry, lovingly putting their head on his shoulder, grabbing his wrist and grabbing an exact-o knife, and cutting kinky messages into his forearm??

-🚀 anon <3"

Content: knifeplay, bloodplay, body writing, degradation, thigh humping, cum in pants, unsafe/unplanned consensual kink, explicit lack of aftercare

It's simply a nice coincidence. You're clocking out for your lunch break at the same time as Barry is opening small boxes of toppings in the backroom prep area. No one else is around, Carol is swamped at the counter, and the two of you are guaranteed a little privacy. So it only makes sense to wrap your arms around him from behind and rest your chin on his shoulder, watching him work in silence for a moment.

He tenses at your touch, half melting into it and half shuddering in fear. It's cute, the way he never seems to know how to feel around you. Enamoured and scared, horny and terrified. Every time you touch him, he presses into it and flinches away from it at the same time. It's delightful.

"Are you being a good boy today?" Your voice is low and dangerous, hand slipping forward to cup his bulge.

He whines and presses into your hand, grip on his box knife shaky as he tries to keep working. "Yes..." The word is barely a mumble.

"Hmm..." Your lips press to his neck, eliciting a shudder from him. "Give me that."

Barry makes a sound somewhere between a squeak and a questioning hum, knuckles tightening slightly around the knife. He knows what you mean. And he's not sure whether to hope he's wrong or right. As much as he desperately wants you to do this to him, he can't help the way his heart pounds in fear at the thought of you...

"Now." You take on a harsher tone that makes him flinch, a trembling hand passing the knife to you. "Good."

Your hand wraps around his wrist tightly, pulling his arm straight so you can reach his forearm without effort. You take your time with it. You can feel him trembling against you, and you know his eyes are wide as they watch you slowly secure the blade. You tighten your grip on his wrist just a little more and enjoy the way his breath hitches.

His skin is so smooth, giving way to your knife with ease. It's a moment of delightful tension as his skin bends under the blade before it parts. There's another moment before blood begins to well up around it. There's a half-formed plan in your mind, and it's fuelled by the sight of red blood marring that perfect skin.

The knife drags through his skin. A line. And then, slowly, a curve. Some part of your brain seems to know what you're doing, but it's not the part you're thinking with. No, you're as surprised as he is, as the two of you watch you carve a word into his skin. The blood flows beautifully, and you can't help but press a kiss to his neck again, feeling his pulse pound against your lips.

Pervert.

The word is obscured somewhat by his blood. But you know it'll scar over into a lovely reminder of what he is. A pervert. He shivers again as he realises what you've carved into his skin. What word he'll be carrying with him forever. And he can't even argue, given how many times he's cum while watching you on the security cameras...

You bring his arm up to your face, licking up some of the blood so you can admire your writing. He tries to stifle his moan, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as your tongue dips into one of his wounds. Your cute little masochist.

It's easy to turn him around, pin him between your body and the counter. You grab his other wrist, knee pushing up between his legs to feel his hard cock through his slacks. It's cute, how turned on he's already gotten from you making your mark on him. Branding him forever as a pervert.

He willingly offers up his other arm, lips parted and eyes half-lidded as he follows the trail of your knife. You slide the flat against his skin, enjoying the soft shivers that run through him each time the blade catches on his skin. You try to think of something good to carve, but nothing comes to mind. It's easier to just let go and let your hand guide itself, see what it comes up with.

Cash Cow.

It's fitting, and a little funny. This time you make him lick the wound clean. Rubbing it against his mouth and admiring the way his blood smears across his face. You want desperately to sit him on the counter and ravage him. But you're enjoying decorating him far too much...

The blade catches on his shirt, and he shakes his head quickly. "Please..."

It's his uniform shirt, and you doubt he has a spare just laying around. But that's not your problem. No, your only concern is to keep leaving scars on Barry's skin, keep leaving these filthy words that'll surely remind him forever that he's yours. So you drag the blade through the fabric and push it off his shoulders.

His chest is flat and smooth, so perfect for...

Whore.

He stares intently at your knife as it carves the word into his skin. Your free hand pins one of his wrists to the counters. It hurts. It hurts so bad. The exposed wounds. Your knife carving into his chest. It hurts, and he can't help but grind on your thigh with a moan. He loves that you do this to him. That you push him around and use him for your every whim, not caring in the slightest about the lasting consequences he'll have to live with.

Your blade trails down to his abdomen, and for a long moment he thinks you might gut him. His cock twitches at the thought, and he humps against your thigh more insistently. But you only carve more lines and curves into his skin. This one he can't see. But you get a good view of the wounds opening, spelling out your final message for your sweet slut.

Free Use.

Your thumb traces the words through the blood, and you can see the last remnants of his thoughts trying to process what you've carved into his stomach. But he's so hard. So turned on. So needy. He can't think of much more than grinding against your thigh and pressing into the stinging touch of your fingers against his wounds.

You lean in, teeth tugging at his earlobe for a moment before you begin whispering in his ear. Each degrading word you've written on his body. After every one, he whimpers and gasps, hips bucking against your thigh. It's only when you get to the final one that he cums, clinging to you and trembling as he humps your leg and makes a mess in his slacks.

It's so easy to step away from him and watch him sink to the ground. His thighs press together, cum staining his nice uniform trousers. There's blood on the floor around him, from where it's dripped off his body. And his wounds continue to bleed at an almost concerning rate. But he looks up at you like you're nothing short of a god. And he makes no moves to stop you as you leave him slumped on the floor.

Soon, he'll get up and tend to his wounds. Find a change of clothes from one of the lockers. Spend plenty of time making sure the scars heal right and leave your words permanently etched into his skin. Spend even more time touching himself to the sight of them.

But for now... for now, he just wants to revel in everything you've done to him.

[cherryslife]

self care ideas!

Self-care is important to both a person’s physical and mental health. For many people, it works as a way to cope with a situation or to assist people in keeping a solid grip on their mental health. Overall, self-care is something that is a good thing to employ, and I’m sharing my favorite methods or things to do as “self-care”.

౨ৎ Working out: it’s one of my favorite methods of self-care! Not only does it help me by giving me an adrenaline rush, but it positively affects my physical health and helps me achieve the body that I want. There are also so many ways to be able to work out. Some workout methods like pilates, yoga, and walking are really low effort. On the other hand, there are also high-intensity workouts like cardio, weights, kickboxing, and running. I do all of them, but I can tailor it to how I feel at the time and how much effort I want to put into things. 

౨ৎ Journalling: this one is personal to me because it helped me overcome a tough time in my life. Journaling helps me to be able to put my feelings down on a page and process them. There’s something so therapeutic about having all your emotions on a page (or doc) in front of you. It helps to get your head around your emotions about a matter and come up with a solution. Also, decorating and doodling in a journal is so fun! I would recommend keeping a copy physically, so you have a physical result when you’re done.

౨ৎ Baking/Cooking: i like to bake or cook when I’m stressed. I feel like this might be a hit or miss for some people because not everyone has the privilege of being able to choose whether or not they want to cook or bake. But for me personally, listening to relaxing music while I bake or cook calms me down and it gives my hands something to do. It’s also not as physically taxing as working out but still gives you some movement. You also get a tasty treat at the end of it!

౨ৎ Reading: to me, reading is a relaxing thing to do because it allows you to follow a story without much personal strain (depending on the book you’re reading). Romance and slice-of-life novels are my current favorites to read because they’re easy to finish in a day and a lot of them are really wholesome. Not only does it give your brain something to do, it also can help improve your reading skills, comprehension, and vocabulary. 

౨ৎ A Nice Shower: this one is a pretty normal thing to do, but it makes a big difference. Showers might be a chore to do (depending on your mental state), but in the end, forcing yourself to do it might be worth it. A nice warm shower helps to relax your muscles, clean you off after a long day, and can be soothing. 

౨ৎ Naps: Sometimes when we’re tired, we get stressed out and that leads to us overthinking. It’s hard, and usually it’s because our bodies are just tired. Putting on some rain sounds or white noise (there are really good ones on YouTube), closing your blinds, and having a quick nap can help improve your mood and your concentration. Sometimes a quick nap is all you need!

I hope you find this useful, I can make a pt 2 of this is anyone finds this helpful. Remember to drink lots of water and thank yourself for being amazing today, lovelies!

[hisnowbie2]

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Summary:

¤ You adopted one furry, and one furry is enough, because eversince your history with furry wasn't nice, you still decided why not? Not all furries are the same. Even your friends whined you to have one, since you couldn't pull a boyfriend for youe last 24 years. And so you did adopt one furry, a golden retriever hybrid. Things might not have start out well, but at least it's going to be good in the end, right? ... Right? ¤

Furry You masterlist

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Note:

Third POV, hybrid's thoughts will in coloured in blue after a few described movements by them.

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FIFTEEN : 【 Stay by my side 】 (1.1k)

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"You are going to be fine, Jake" Jay's head twist on its own before staring at his phone, opposite caller being Jake who wears a suit. For it being Jake anxious is normal, and also asking Jay for fashion advice is also normal, but Jay couldn't understand what's there to be anxious. The fact that hybrids are well loved is nothing to be anxious about, so even if Jake falls into a mistake, the audience will still cooed by his actions.

"I don't know Jay, should I just bail out and tell yn noona that I'm not feeling well?" Jake whimpers and Jay's orbs went into a single line.

"Don't you dare said that after I made an effort for your current outfit."

"Fine fine," Jake barks. Arranging his attire, Jake looks back at Jay and tilts his head. "What should I do after I get there?"

"Listen to whatever yn noona tells you to do. It is her work party afterall, and you are just the one being invited." Jay twists his head once again. Before Jake responds to the reply, a knock sounded and the door opens, revealing Hyejin smiling brightly towards Jake.

"Looking handsome there, Jake. Unfortunately, yn is done so if you're done too you can head downstairs. All of us are waiting." With that, she closes the door and leave Jake alone back with Jay, this time Jay shooing off Jake.

The formal party is held in a ballroom, and so being escorted by waitresses and waiters isn't rare in a formal party, but it made Jake awe at the quality of the venue. Getting in even makes him feel low of his outfit.

The chandelier is place highly up on top at the center of the ceiling, covered in black and the design is definitely not easy to make. Long tables with white cloths are places in criss-cross style, followed by tables placed parallel and further away from the entrance. There is a second floor as so to look down at the stage, and the barriers are curved and being designed in a Roman Empire style. In the middle of the criss-cross tables and the nearest parallel table stood a beautiful glowing flower bouquet, poke in thousands of flowers of pink and white to create a big bouquet including the yellow light that shines. The whole lighting itself is in a mixture of pink and purple, white light shines around the room with its design. And lastly, the table decorations are red roses and golden mat, are placed neatly and satisfying. People who have arrived early are slowly filling up the space, all dressed up as if the outfits are screaming formal. It is just the start of the party.

Jake looks around the ballroom, you latch yourself to Jake, trying to make him move as he looks around.

"Do you think he's going to be okay?" Hyejin asks right beside you and you gaze over to Jake, since him smiling, yet you shrug, fearing that he might not get used to such a big crowd, yet might the biggest crowd you and him might be seeing today.

Yes, it is a formal party for all around the world CEOs to attend. As much as you would like to reject to offer because you are not one for this sort of event, the invitation letter sent to your letterbox screamed at you that you not attending one of the biggest formal party is a disgrace to your company, and the name might be dismissed away. You couldn't do that, and so for the sake of your company's name, you have to come.

"I don't know Hye. He is just a hybrid, he doesn't work at my company, so there is nothing for him to get used for." You unintentionally caress his arm, worrisome for Jake creeps you. You take a deep breath, and Jake got alerted by your thumb caressing on his sleeve. He watches you get anxious, and he wants to calm you down. But in this sort of event, he's not sure of what and what not to do, and so he have his other free hand placed on top of your latched hand, giving her something like a support.

The formal party is boring Jake to say the least, bunch of work talks and MC be talking work related subjects, while doing that the audience claps for whatever reason, Jake almost did any silly thing that came into his mind. He went fidget, but calmed himself down. He wanted to search for help from you, but you seemed too engrossed to the speech, and so he decided to stay sane for a little while until the speech ended. It was when finally, the speech ended, and it is time to get a break.

"Do you want to get some food?" You asks, yet you get a motion response before seeing Jake pulls you hand out to the outdoor of the building. You questioned his action, but then got reminded that he is a golden retriever hybrid, in which he has to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling inside him. You immediately felt guilty and pet his head, giving him a comfort feeling that he earns. "You are doing a good job, Jake. A good boy."

He smiles tiredly, yet grew fond of you petting him. "I sure am, yn noona."

A few while later, you drag him to sit down on a stone bench, and the two of you gaze up in the sky, watching dark blue colour colours the sky which faint stars hung up.

"I... am afraid of dogs." You confessed. "They bit me, and like it just seems that I don't have a close quick relationship with dogs. That's why I was skeptical when I got announced that I was going to have you. It's weird enough that I am okay with any pets but just dogs, but I am willing to face my fear starting from you. You know... because you're a hybrid."

"It's okay noona, I don't mind that you start with me." Jake whimpers and you giggles at his reply, though do not understand.

"Well, as you can tell, none of us have a hybrid before so you have to tell us, straightforwardly, our mistakes. I might be hard-headed a few times so, you can... I don't know, bark or growl at me if you're feeling angry and mad at me, or if you're feel like giving up and all."

"Of course! Anything for you noona!" Jake barks, and his head comes in contact with your shoulder as he snuggles a little, before leaning his head on top of your shoulder, enjoying the sky in silence.

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Taglist:

@dimplewonie @baevsxii

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[desultory-suggestions]

just asking for advice, you're not forced to answer ofc

i struggle a lot with motivation, when i force myself to do things, it just doesn't feel right, and i feel so guilty about it, things like going to school or even brushing my teeth, it's all pointless and physically exhausting

idk if i'm just lazy or smt

anyway, any tips for folks with low motivation?

Hello, love! Thank you for your patience. Motivation is such a common struggle. I use some unconventional study and motivation tactics personally, as someone with ADHD and Dyslexia I have to get through a lot of nonsense to do basic things. First, you are not lazy! The idea today of laziness is very frustrating to me, and I feel is built on capitalist (and white supremacist) ideals. See the NAP Ministry.

According to The (USA) National Library of Medicine, "Executive dysfunction is commonly seen in major depression. The types of executive deficits seen in depression include problems with planning, initiating, and completing goal-directed activities." Anyone struggling with depression, whether an episode or long-term can struggle with these basic tasks. So how can we deal with this?

Some different techniques that may help:

Talk through the tasks you need to do out loud. You can discuss them in linear order or not. Don't focus on making them perfect and detailed, just explain it like you would to a friend.

Explain what you are doing as if someone is watching you/you're teaching someone. This is how I motivate myself when studying/working out/etc. and shows you that you do know what you are doing.

Break tasks down into smaller pieces to help them be more manageable, or simplify the ones that seem too complicated. (For this I need to do x, then y, then z. I don't need to overthink brushing my teeth, it's okay to just go do it.

Ask someone to be your accountability buddy. Body doubling/parallel play can be very useful. I ask my partner to brush his teeth with me so I have someone else there.

Accept that you don't need to do 100% of everything. You can't brush, floss, and use mouthwash? Okay brush for even just thirty seconds, it's better than nothing!

Utilize tools, but don't try to make it fancy. Aesthetics can be helpful and motivating, they can also apply pressure to make everything look good. Google Calendar or a messy notebook is good enough.

Surrounds tasks with cushioning time to relax. Even for little tasks, you can promise yourself rest before and after. Likewise, do enjoyable things during arduous tasks. Watch a silly video, playa. song!

Consider what the biggest obstacle is. Does it feel pointless? Do you want to do it? If not, why not? How can you change what is making you avoidant? If you do want to, what feels like it's stopping you? A specific fear? Or an impenetrable wall? These questions help define the next steps.

Accept you cannot do everything, especially not when you are suffering. You deserve help and it's okay to ask for it. Professional help is important when conquering issues with motivation whether from depression, ADHD, etc. Medications, therapy, and more can improve your mood.

Some tools I use:

Brushout - An app to help you brush your teeth for the right amount of time. Simple, and makes a nice dinging sound. Can be added as a widget to your home screen on iPhones.

Google Calendar - Also simple. Easy to click and add events and get reminders for things creeping up on you.

Mnemosyne Notebook - Ok the brand doesn't matter but the paper in this is so smooth and it makes me want to use it. But yes a notebook to organize thoughts.

Little Treats - I like to keep little snacks and treats around for working on things I have been struggling with. You don't have to wait until after, let yourself fuse joy with your efforts.

You do not need to be ashamed for struggling. No matter the reason or the manner, we all go through difficult things. Reach out, and don't give up. Feel free to ask for more information or advice again.

Best,

Evan

[waterfallofspace]

Letting It In & Letting It Go (2/3)

The one in which K/azuki learns to let his feelings in, and R/ei learns to let his walls go down, at least a little. Feat. Sick R/ei, caretaker K/azuki, and heavy ship implications (cough outright statements cough), though, they aren’t in a relationship at this point.

Same description as the last one, welcome to Part Two!  (Link to part one is ~~here~~)

R/ei is still sick, but hopefully he’s feeling a bit better since the last time. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?!  (Again, welcome to ‘I have B/uddy D/addies brain rot so, to anyone who bothers to read this, thank you for your time, I hope it’s enjoyable!) (references to violence, swearing, smoking, trauma, bad coughing/wheezing, incase you don’t like any of that) ((ALSO: There are spoilers for B/uddy D/addies. Slight, but it’s still spoilers, so be warned!))  Characters: R/ei, K/azuki, Angst&Banter feat. Caretaking  Word Count: 5.9k (oh lord)

Kazuki’s eyes flutter open, and as he gets his bearings, he realizes he fell asleep at the table. Rei is still letting out congested snores from the couch, but the slight wheeze in his lungs is gone. ‘That’s a relief, at least for now’ he thinks, a yawn escaping. Stumbling to the door, Kazuki opens it to find, true to his word, Kyu had left a basket of supplies outside. The note pinned to it lists what’s in it, and what medications not to combine. ‘Thanks Kyu’. He makes another mental note to text him later with an actual thanks. He lays all the stuff out on the table, taking stock of what was brought. There are some tea bags, a few boxes of tissues, and a pharmacy worth of medications. Cough drops, cough syrups, nasal decongestants (in the form of sprays), pain relievers, and antihistamines, along with a few boxes of general cold meds. Each is unopened, and clearly listed on the note by name, type, and what not to take with it. Turning his attention back to Rei, Kazuki tries to figure out, without waking the man, what medications he should get ready. He can hear the congestion in his snores, so getting him to take the nasal spray when he wakes up would probably help. Kazuki sighs to himself, realizing that task may not be as simple as it sounds. Rei isn’t exactly someone who enjoys discomfort, so convincing him to use a spray that will help, but will feel awful at first… ‘yeah, not gonna be easy’.  Getting back to symptom management, he thinks back to yesterday. The fever was alarming, but it’s since broken, and Rei doesn’t look particularly warm anymore. He was also coughing and sneezing a lot, which he isn’t now, ‘but that’s most likely due to him, ya know, being unconscious’. After studying the list a bit more, and comparing medications and uses, Kazuki decides on a few main choices. Setting aside a nasal spray, general cold medication, an herbal brand of cough medicine, and a handful of cough drops, he packs the rest back into the basket. The tissues are set next to the medication, along with the tea, of which he picks out a nice vanilla chamomile, and gets up to start the kettle.  ~~~~~~~ Stirring on the couch knocks Kazuki out of his sleepy daze, and he looks up to see Rei raising a hand to swipe at his nose. He attempts to sit up, which apparently requires significant effort given the pace he’s going at. “Rise and shine Rei, you want some breakfast?” The low groan he gets in return is indistinguishable as an answer, and since he didn’t eat for most of yesterday, Kazuki decides Rei no longer gets a say in the matter. He starts cracking a few eggs, turning on the stovetop and fishing a frying pan out of the drawer.  “Hh’nggxt-! ehhH’NNgxt-! nnDGXXT-!uhhh”  “Bless you!” “hH’KNNGT-!hhuhh”  “And again. You want bacon with your eggs?” “Who said I want eggs?” Kazuki let out a soft sigh, flashing Rei his most charming smile with just a touch of pleading in his eyes. “You didn’t eat anything yesterday, or dinner the night before, so today you’re eating eggs. But the bacon is optional, because I’m not gonna waste perfectly good meat on you if you’re just gonna pick at it and leave it behind. It’s bacon after all.”  Rei gives a grunt in response, so Kazuki throws an extra piece of bacon on, just incase. He could always eat it himself if Rei’s uninterested. Taking note of the harsh quality of Rei’s voice, he also starts a pot of rice, something easier on the throat and stomach. While the food cooks, Kazuki takes a minute to take in Rei’s appearance. He’s normally dishevelled, but the redness around his nose and pale quality of his skin is making him look particularly rough. He looks almost bruised, the dark bags under his eyes deepening against the tired depth of them. At just the sight of him you’d think he hadn’t slept in months, but with this sickness he’d slept more in the past day than he had in weeks.  The way his teeth dig into his lip and the lines forming around his eyes read plainly of pain. His hands grip the controller a bit too tightly, the whites of his knuckles showing. His whole body is tense, like normal, but the slight trembling of his muscles suggest this stance is taking considerable effort. Kazuki picks up on these tells almost instantly, shuddering a little as he realizes just how deeply Rei must be hurting for him to be able to notice them so easily. “Hey-” Kazuki starts, not missing the way Rei flinches at the volume of his voice. He softens a little before continuing.  “-I have some medicine for you to take. Kyu dropped it off outside earlier, must have been when we were- uh, nevermind! The point is, I need you to take it, so do I need to make some airplane noises, or are you adult enough to do it yourself?”  Rei gives him a measured look, before shrugging, his eyes flashing back to the TV. ‘Not an outright no, so that’s progress!’ Kazuki thinks to himself, turning off the stove and plating the food he’s made. He piles himself a nice tall plate of eggs and bacon, with a small bowl of rice. However, he serves Rei just a single fried egg and a small pile of rice, setting the single strip of bacon next to it. Nothing too overwhelming, just something to give his system a bit of energy. “Come and get it while it’s fresh and hot!” Rei trudges over, and Kazuki doesn’t miss the wince he tries to hide when he first stands, or the way his hand flies almost on its own to his head, giving his temples a quick rub. ‘Headache then, and likely a bad one.’ Kazuki makes a mental note to add ‘pain relievers’ to the list of meds he has set out for Rei.  ~~~~~~~ They ate in relative silence, Rei picking at his food, but managing to get bits of it into his mouth. Sniffling and light coughs broke up the still air, but Kazuki just ignored them. It almost felt like feeding a stray cat. Every movement Rei made was calculated, and in return Kazuki was slow, careful not to scare him into retreating back to the couch.  “hH’KNGT-! hIH’DNNT-!uhhh”  “Bless you! ….Those sound like they hurt.” “It’s fihhhne. Hihh… hAH’GNXXT-!uhhh”  “And again.”  Kazuki can’t help but grimace at the weak groan that escapes Rei’s throat before he can suppress it. ‘Why stifle when it’s hurting your head so much, and not even stopping the tickle?’ He muses, watching as Rei ducks into his chest with another contained sneeze, this one barely even audible. The watery quality of Rei’s eyes as he slowly brings his head back up doesn’t go unnoticed, but Kazuki decides to put it on the backburner. Right now he needs to focus on getting Rei to take the medication. He reaches back into the basket, pulling out a bottle of painkillers, and adding a couple to the cup of meds he had already set out. Setting the nasal spray beside it, and pouring a spoonful of cough syrup, he meets Rei’s eyes. “Swallow these with water, then take this.” Seeing the hesitation on Rei’s face as he regards the nasal spray, Kazuki gives him a light chuckle. “You can save that one for later. You should do it eventually, but these pills will take the edge off the congestion anyways. Now hurry up before this falls off the spoon. Kyu paid for this, so I’ll make you lick it off the table if it spills.” Rei gave him a low growl, but swallowed the meds dry, ‘show off’, before taking the spoon, making a face as he put it in his mouth, but finishing it anyways. Satisfied with these results, Kazuki gestures for him to return to the couch, and Rei obliges eagerly.  Kazuki then went about clearing the table, and making a mental note to make rice again for lunch (as it was the only part of the meal Rei had actually finished). He then happened to glance back over at Rei just in time to see him crush his nose into his wrist with a harsh “hH’KNNGT-!” that left them both wincing. “Bless you. But christ Rei, just cut that out already, you’re gonna kill your head even more. It’s actually hurting me to hear you do this. I thought we went over this yesterday!” Rei shoots him a glance at that last section, as if desperately searching for any indication of the day prior that fever seems to have wiped clean. “I don’t remember much of yesterday. Just something about the tub…”  “Yeah well, not surprising. You were pretty out of it. Anyways, doesn’t matter, the point is, suppressing them like that is fine for jobs or whatever, but right now you’re just hurting yourself. Plus it’s… it’s gotta be annoying right..? It doesn’t exactly scratch the itch.” “It’s a habit.” Kazuki rolls his eyes, knowing just as well as Rei does that with this much sneezing, it’s a choice, not an instinct. And even though he does believe Rei that it’s a habit, he also knows that the sneezes aren’t gonna stop anytime soon. Keeping this up is just gonna make his headache even worse. Rei brings a hand up to crush his nose shut for another deeply unsatisfying “hH’NGXT-! heh’DXXGT-!” and when Kazuki sees the tear roll from his eyes at the pain of it, he can’t stand it anymore. He walks out of the kitchen, passing the living room and heading up to his bedroom to fetch something. The feather duster sits right where he left it in his closet.  ‘Sorry Rei, but I promise this is for the best’ he says to himself as he approaches the couch once back downstairs. Rei is giving him a measured look, obviously noticing the way he’s holding his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, but I cannot listen to you doing that anymore. You’re gonna break something, either in you, or me.” “What are you ta-” He cuts Rei off with the duster right to his face. “Kahhh! Kazuki what the fuhhhhh- hUH-! What are you doing?”  “You seem set on suppressing them out of existence, and I’m putting a stop to it.” Rei tries to bring his hands up to push the duster away, but doing so just sends more dust and feather bits right at his face. Kazuki continues brushing his face with it, only stopping when Rei’s hitching turns into a desperate shaky inhale. “hhHEHH-! hH’ZZSCHH’OO-! HH’RUSHH’OO-! ESHH’OO-! hehH- RSHH’OO-TSHH’OO-! Hihhh… heH’TSHH’OO-!  Hehh! MMPFSHH’OO-! Hehh… hahh…. Hhh-!” “It’s okay Rei, let it all go. I don’t mind. You’re safe here.”  “Ahh… hehh…. hehH’MPFSHH-! Hehh! MPFSHH-!uhhh TSHHH-TSHH’OO-! hEHH! Kaaahhhhzz- haAH’ZZSCHH’OO! I can’t s- stooohh… stop-” Without thinking, Kazuki reaches over, prying away Rei’s hands that he’s stapled to his face, and pinches his nose shut. Rei lets out a soft moan as the sneezing finally dies down enough to let him catch his breath. They sit like that for a minute, until Kazuki realizes he’s still holding Rei’s nose, blushes, and lets go. “Bless you! See, isn’t that better?” Now it’s Rei’s turn to blush, taking the last of the tissues from the box next to him, and letting himself fully blow his nose before responding. “....yeah, it does feel better.” “I knew it! You should really listen to me more often, I’m quite brilliant. You people, you and Kyu, never appreciating my intelligence. You think you’re all that because you’re a tough assassin, practically perfect at it, raised by famous killers, but I’m just as smart you know! If not more so! I had to do it without all the training!” “It was effective training, but it wasn’t all good.” Kazuki pauses his victory dance, finally realizing what he had said.  “Sorry… I didn’t mean-” Rei cuts him off with a shrug, wiping his nose once more with the tissues before tossing them and picking his controller back up. Eyes still on the screen, he spoke again. “I wasn’t allowed weakness. I learned how to hide any sign of humanity, any ‘flaws’.” His tone is balanced, almost like he was reading a grocery list. Just stating facts. But there’s a pain swimming through his eyes that makes Kazuki’s mouth run dry. It’s almost like he can feel all the emotions trembling below the surface of Rei’s calmly annoyed mask, pounding on him from the inside, waiting for a crack so they can seep out. Kazuki wants to give them a way out. Give Rei a space to break down some of the walls his ‘Boss’ had built up in him. Maybe let him figure out how to show his humanity again, something that was so cruelly stolen from him. That’s what he wants, but he knows that’s not what either of them needs.  ‘What Rei needs is a space where he can keep the mask on without effort. That’s what he needs. That’s what both of us need. In this job, we can’t form attachments. We can’t let our masks slip, not even for a second. We need to be cold, collected, and calculating.’ And then, even though he tries not to, he lets his mind wander back to that same old place it always seems to end up. An umbrella floating through the street, the smell of smoke, the ringing in his ears… ‘We don’t get to have people get close to us. That just puts them in danger, and us in danger of losing them.’ “hEH’KSSHH’OO!”  A sneeze breaks him out of his spiralling thoughts, and as Kazuki’s eyes refocus, he realizes Rei is staring at him. “Heh, sorry, got a bit lost in thought there. Bless you.” “It’s fine. Thought you were gonna fall asleep standing up. Didn’t want to worry about you splitting your head open.” Kazuki laughs, and Rei lets a smile slip across his features for just a second, before the grimace of annoyance resets itself, and he turns his eyes back to his game. Kazuki feels a yawn slip out, and Rei directs a raised eyebrow at him. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, I think I’m gonna take a quick catnap.” “Okay.” The answer is short, but he can see the slight flush on Rei’s cheeks as he thinks back to the reason Kazuki is so tired. “Nighty-night.” He shoots over his shoulder, heading upstairs to his room.  ~~~~~~~ The alarm goes off at twelve, just like he wanted it to, but Kazuki still fights the urge to throw the phone at the wall. Letting his head flop back against the pillow, he considers staying in bed all day, but these thoughts are quickly silenced when he hears a bout of harsh coughing from downstairs. Sighing a little, and letting a stray “hH’ISH’shiiew!” slip out as he pulls his jacket back on, Kazuki heads for the stairs, nearly falling down them at the sight waiting for him. Rei stands beside the door, putting on his shoes, holding a loose fist to his mouth as the coughs shake his whole frame.  “What in the ever-loving-fuck do you think you are doing?”  Rei jumps slightly, which is alarming in of itself since Kazuki wasn’t exactly being quiet as he came down the stairs. “Going out.” “Oh like hell you are! And just where are you planning to drag your sickly form to? Gotta go infect a supermarket? Why is it that the one time I actually want you to stay home all day, lazing around, you decide, ‘oh no, no, today is the first time in my life that I feel the unfightable urge to go outside!’ For the love of god Rei, the one time!” “I’m going to see Kyu. We dropped out of the job at the last minute because of me. He’s probably angry, and wehhh! hH’ZZCHH’OO-! we need to take a new one to make up for it.”  Kazuki blinks, staring at Rei, who for his part, is still putting his shoes on. “Bless you. I already took care of that.” “What?” “I told him that you were sick, and he brought the basket over. He said just not to let it happen again, he isn’t upset at us for bailing. Sickness isn’t exactly something you can help…”  Rei’s face was his normal calm annoyance, but something unreadable flashed in his eyes.  “Oh.” And then it hits Kazuki. This probably was new to him, the idea that being sick wasn’t a punishable offence. “Besides, with the state you’re in right now, I don’t want you in position and then blow it because you-” “heH’NNggxt-! hh’nnGT-! AH’KTNGTT-!uhhh” “-Took the words right out of my mouth. Bless you.” “I didn’t say anything.” “Shut up! You know what I mean- oh forget it. You just go lay down again, it’ll be time for more meds again soon. But for now, you should take some cough drops, that cough sounds pretty painful.”  “It’s nothing. My head is worse.” Kazuki feels his mouth drop open at the admission as Rei slowly bends down to take his shoes off again, leaving them in a pile on the floor ‘oh come on, really?’ before making his way back to the couch. Reaching over to pick up the shoes, Kazuki hears Rei sneeze again from behind him. “hH’NGT’ooo-! hEHK’TSHH’OO-!”  “Bless you!” He calls as he puts the shoes back next to the door, heading over to the basket of meds to get Rei’s next dose ready afterwards. “Snfff`- hehh.. hhH-! guhhh…”  Kazuki risks a glance over at Rei, noticing the way his hand is hovering slightly in front of his face, as if he’s waiting for one more. Reaching over into the basket, he grabs a box of tissues and tosses them onto the couch. “Blow your nose, it’ll help.” Rei obliges with an eye roll and sigh, rubbing his nose into the tissues for a moment before letting a harsh blow scrape out. Kazuki winces, making a mental note to buy more tissues next time he’s out. If- ‘okay fine, “when”’ he catches this, he’s gonna need them. “hH’ZSSCHH’OO-!” “Bless y-” “hAH’TSHH’OO-! RRSHH’OO-! heH’NNGXT-! Hehh… hH’MMTSHHH’OO-!uhhh… hhh… heHH-! Guhhh… hhH-! hhHDT-uhhhh…” “Christ, bless you again, and again. Are you al-” “HH’TSHH’OOO-! mmMPFFSHH’OO-! hEhH-uhhh…. Hhehh- hHH’ZZSCHH’OOO-!”  “Bless you! What the fuck Rei, why are you getting so much worse so fast?” Rei just gasps in response, ducking back into the tissues with a harsh triple that doesn’t even give him a breath in between. “hUH’ZSSHH-RSHHH-TSHH’OO-!” Kazuki doesn’t even give a blessing this time, his focus completely taken over by figuring out what’s going on. Even for Rei, this isn’t normal. Sneezing with a cold is one thing, sneezing with this level of viciousness for no reason is something completely different.  Racking his brain he tries to remember the last time, if ever, that he’s seen Rei this bad. Earlier he got a longer fit out of him with the duster, but even that wasn’t nearly as throat-scraping as this, and at least gave him time to collect his breath in between. “Kaahhhhzuki-! hUH’SCHHH’OO! RSHH-TSHHH-TSHHH-KSHHH’OO-! hEHH! hEH’ZZSCHH’OOO-!” Rei’s still desperately sneezing into the tissues, but the box fell off the couch during the commotion. Kazuki reaches to pick it up, and freezes at the sight staring back at him. ‘Lotion infused? Wait a second… Is Rei… Oh fuck-’  Kazuki throws the box on the floor, rushing to the bathroom and coming back with a toilet roll. Rei shoots him a frantic glance as he tears the tissues out of his hand, replacing them with a section of roll, which Rei quickly uses to blow his nose. Taking a desperate breath, letting another “hH’TSHH’OO-!” escape, and blowing his nose again, Rei finally manages to stop the fit. “You’re allergic to lotion!?” “What?” “The tissues dumbass, they’re lotion infused! Are you allergic to lotion?” “I guess so. I’m allergic to most perfumes, so I guess that would make sense.” “You’re what? You didn’t think to tell me this? That maybe I should know so, oh I don’t know, off the top of my head, so I don’t give you lotion infused tissues that nearly kill you? Maybe so that doesn’t happen!?” Rei just shrugs, burying his nose in the toilet roll again and letting another leftover sneeze scrape out of his throat. “HH’ZZSHH’OO-!uhhh” At the tired groan that follows, Kazuki manages to get a hold of himself. Taking a few deep breaths, he shoots Rei a dirty glare, before rubbing a hand down his face. “For future reference, telling me about things you’re allergic to is no longer optional.” “Okay.” Rei pauses for a minute, a harsh cough cutting him off before he can continue, and Kazuki hands him a water bottle from the coffee table. After taking a sip, and clearing his throat, Rei continues, voice noticeably softer, though not necessarily by choice. “Sorry. I didn’t think it was relevant.” The apology seems sincere, regret plainly painted across his face, so Kazuki offers him a gentle smile and playful punch to the arm. “I mean hey, it’s your nose that suffers after all.” Rei moans slightly at the reminder, lightly rubbing his nose against his palm, grumbling out, “It still itches.” Kazuki grabs the meds he was getting before, adding an antihistamine to the mix this time. “Yep. You’ll most likely be itchy for a while, but here, take these. I added an antihistamine, that should help kill the reaction a bit faster. The rest is for the cold.” A low groan is all he gets as an answer, but Rei swallows them, so he counts that as a win. “Maybe we’ll save the nasal spray for another time, I think right now it’ll just make you feel worse. They normally cause a few sneezes.” Rei’s eyes go wide as he nods, then immediately flinches at his head changing positions. “Still got a headache, hm?” This time Rei plays it safe with a verbal response. “Yeah. hAH’SHH’ooo-!”  “Bless you. At least they’re getting softer.” “Mm.”  Kazuki pauses, his mind drifting back to a time in his life that he simultaneously refuses to let himself think about, and can’t seem to ever stop. Back to holding her head in his lap, gently rubbing her neck and temples, back when she’d get migraines during pregnancy. “Do you get migraines?” “Yeah.” “I uh…” Kazuki raises a hand sheepishly to the back of his neck, turning his head slightly away from Rei’s eyes. “I might know something that could help.” He doesn’t get a response, but Rei is watching him intently, eyes studying his face. ‘Shit, he looks really cute like that- woah woah, no, what kinda thought is that?’ Quickly deciding that answering himself would be the easiest way to get Rei to stop giving him that look that seemed to set him on fire from the inside out, Kazuki heads to the kitchen. He fetches a washcloth from a drawer, running it under freezing water, ringing it out a bit, then letting himself drift down onto the couch. “It’s uh… It might be a bit awkward, but you lay your head in… uh…. In my lap, and then I just kinda-” Before he can finish, Rei has paused the game, and laid onto his back, his head resting on Kazuki’s legs. Both of them are stiff, the tension rising off of them enough to raise the heat in the room by several degrees. Without a word, Kazuki places the washcloth on the back of Rei’s neck, and lets his hands touch his hair, starting to run down towards Rei’s temples, pausing only when he flinches at the contact. “Alright?” “Yeah.” With that, he continued his gentle rub, a smile fighting through his control when Rei’s eyes snapped shut and a low moan escaped his lips. ‘His lips… they look so soft… I wonder what they taste like’ Before he knows it, Kazuki feels his own face start moving forward, longing to touch Rei’s lips with his own.  ‘Woah, okay, I’m definitely getting this illness, because I must have a fever. That’s the only explanation for why I just thought that!’ Kazuki rushes, heat starting to stain his face with a light pink tint, but thankfully for him, Rei remains none the wiser, his eyes still closed as he gently hums against the welcome touch. Slowly, he starts to drift off, until soon congested snoring fills the room once more. Kazuki lets his eyes linger on Rei’s lips just a moment longer than he should, before leaning back, and letting his own eyes flutter shut, their breathing quickly falling in sync.  ~~~~~~~ A harsh sound snaps Kazuki out of his sleep. Looking down at his lap he realizes Rei’s head isn’t there anymore, and when he turns his head he sees the man curled up on the edge of the couch, a harsh cough sputtering out of him. “Rei, are you okay?” A wheeze is all he gets in response, followed by deeper coughs that have him nearly falling off the couch. When his eyes find Rei’s, he feels the colour rush out of his face in response to the deep pale tint that Rei currently has. “Hey, okay, take it easy, shit- can you breathe?” Rei opens his mouth to reply, but the only sound that escapes is a faint whisper that seems to catch in his throat. His eyes are wide, panic practically seeping out of them, before he ducks back into his shoulder with another wet, rattling cough. The whistling sound when he tries to breathe answers the question for Kazuki. No, no he can’t. ‘Okay, fuck, don’t panic, think this through, what helps with coughing?’  Raising to his feet, Kazuki drapes Rei across his back, wincing at the way Rei tries with all the strength he has left to direct the onslaught of coughs away from him. Thanking god that the walk to the bathtub is short, Kazuki kicks the door closed behind them, setting Rei carefully on the ground. He then turns to the tub, turning the water as hot as it will go.  Rei gasps desperately, a harsh wheeze leaving tears in his eyes as he doubles over into himself with another round of harsh coughing. Kazuki can’t tell if the tears are from the rattling of the cough, or fear, and honestly he can’t decide which is worse. Finally, after a mere matter of minutes, but what felt like hours, the steam starts filling the bathroom. Rei is still coughing, but the whistling sound when he breathes is already starting to back down. ‘Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking’.  Kazuki lets the bathtub start to fill, walking over to where Rei is, and easing himself onto the ground next to him. He reaches out to rub Rei’s back, but pulls back when Rei flinches away, desperation overflowing in his eyes. They sit like that for a minute, both frozen, aside from the chesty cough still shaking Rei’s frail form, before slowly, Rei leans back into the touch, his watery eyes meeting Kazuki’s. Neither of them say anything, neither of them could if they wanted to. But they don’t need to. Kazuki looks into Rei’s eyes and knows what he means. ‘Your touch is allowed, just be gentle. I’m still learning how to feel safe with it.’ And in turn, Rei knows what the look he’s receiving means. ‘I know, I’ll be careful. Just let me help you.’  As the steam fills the room, Rei’s wheeze slowly starts to fade out, the cough loses some of its ferocity. Even so, Kazuki continues rubbing slow circles, and Rei doesn’t move away from the touch. Once the cough backs off enough for him to take a breath without any whistling, Kazuki stands, not missing the way Rei’s body trembles slightly when he removes his hand. “Come on, let's get you back to the couch, I’ll get you another dose of the cough syrup, and you should try to get some more rest. I have some work to do for a job Kyu asked me to finish up anyways, I’ll work on that while you sleep.” “Okay.” Rei’s voice is raw and harsh, and makes both of them grimace, so Kazuki reaches down and helps Rei stand, letting out a low hum as the other man winces at the movement. “Easy now, don’t go pulling anything. Carrying you is still a no from me, I’d like to keep my back intact.” There’s a faint hint of something that could be considered laughter from Rei, and given the state he’s in, and how expressive he normally is (ie. isn’t) it’s frankly impressive. Once they get back to the couch, Kazuki lets Rei lay down at his own pace, before getting him the cough syrup. Rei once again makes a face that reminds Kazuki of a child, but it’s better than not taking it. He stands and watches for a minute, making sure Rei’s able to drift off, before heading up to the office to finish the work he promised Kyu. Somewhere in his mind, a voice he shut in a box a long time ago starts screaming again, and he has to fight to ignore it. ‘This is love, you are in love!’  ~~~~~~~ “hH’SHH’UHH-!” A hoarse sneeze alerts Kazuki that his patient is awake again, pulling him out of the spiral his mind had chosen to wander down. Making his way downstairs, he’s relieved to see Rei sitting up, a lot more colour in his face. “How are you doing now? You gave me a bit of a scare. Ya know, for a smoker who seems to have remarkable tolerance to cigarettes, you sure have weak lungs!” Rei opens his mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a hoarse rush of air, followed by a deep, voiceless groan. A laugh escapes Kazuki’s lips before he can stop it, earning him a dark glare from the man sitting on the couch rubbing his throat. ‘This funny to you?’  Yet again, no words are needed for Kazuki to know exactly what Rei means. “Yes, in fact, it is pretty funny to me. You know that old saying, ‘your face will freeze that way’? Maybe this is the voice equivalent. You don’t use it enough, so it’s decided to just up and pack its bags!” Rei shoots him another glare, but this time there’s a hint of humour in it that he isn’t able to suppress. Kazuki winks at him, before checking the alarms he’d set on his phone for meds. “It’s gonna be another few hours before I can give you another dose of anything, so I think you’ll just have to put up with this for now.” “Well… at least… you’ll get… what you always… wanted… to talk without… interruption…”  The words are strained, and seem to scrape against his throat enough to make Kazuki audibly gasp. “Hey, woah, no no no. No more talking, not only is that extremely bad for you, but christ man, it sounds horrible. Don’t do that to yourself, you’re just gonna wreck something beyond repair.”  “Aren’t… you usually… on me… about not… talking enough…”  “Yeah but this is different! Seriously, it sounds painful. You should rest it, and drink some more water, try to give your throat a bit of a break.” Rei just nods this time, hand still lightly rubbing his throat, apparently done trying to fight his body on this particular matter. ‘Probably good, seeing as this is one fight he has no chance of winning. Only person skilled enough to take down Rei, is Rei’.  Kazuki sits down on the couch beside Rei, who had picked up the controller again, deciding to watch him play games for a while. Kazuki starts to feel a tickle form in his throat, and decides that denial is the best form of medication. ‘It’s probably just from hearing how bad Rei’s throat is, that’s all.’ He thinks, allowing himself to drift into the world of denial a little deeper. His thoughts are interrupted by… actually, he doesn’t know what by. There’s no actual noise, nothing has happened that should have brought him crashing back into the real world. Fully putting his gaze on Rei, Kazuki suddenly realizes what pulled him back in. “Bless you.” “heH’SHH’uhhh-!” Rei’s eyes meet his with a confused look. Kazuki just chuckles, letting himself indulge in a moment of pride for being able to read him that well. It started with a slight tremble around Rei’s eyes, followed by his nose twitching, and finally a slight gasp in his normal breathing. Patterns that Kazuki didn’t even realize he had memorized, and yet, it came so naturally to him.  While his gaze was already on Rei, he let himself look the man over. His shoulders were tight, like normal, but there was a slight shudder to them that made him reach over and drape a blanket over Rei’s legs. This time he got a low hum in response, reaffirming that he was correct on that assessment. Then there was his throat, which, while he wasn’t talking, was still slightly moving, almost as if he was swallowing constantly. Kazuki reaches over to his side of the couch where he had seen Rei place the water bottle earlier, and hands it to him, blushing a little at the look of pure confusion that met him once again. “You look like you need it… Am I wrong?” There’s no response, he didn’t expect one, but the way Rei’s hands loosen their grip on the controller after he drinks is all the answer Kazuki needs.  “Bless you.” “hH’SHH’uhhh-!”  “And again, and once more.” “hEH’SHH’uhhh-! Hehh-! hH’SHH’uhhh-!”  Rei gives him a withering look, but Kazuki just laughs it off, gently ruffling Rei’s hair, before pulling his hand back with a clearing of his throat. ‘Why did you do that?!” “So- uh- I have a bit more work to do upstairs. I’ll come back down when it-” Suddenly he pauses, a far away look glossing over his features, before snapping to the side with a-  “hih’ISHH’iew-! Tishh’iew-! hAH’ISHH’IEW-! Oh, bless me.”  Blushing slightly at the stare Rei points his direction, Kazuki gives a light shrug. “Don’t ask, I’m not sick, just a few sneezes, it can happen to anyone!” This time Rei definitely didn’t need words to convey his point, the eye roll said it all clearly.  ‘Whatever you say.’ Kazuki elects to ignore this one, settling instead for finishing his earlier sentence. “I’ll come back down when it’s time for you to take some more meds.” Rei nods, then gives Kazuki a look that nearly melts his entire being. The meaning of this one was also clear, and struck him right to his very core. ‘Thank you.’ “You’re welcome.” He whispers back, heading upstairs, and deciding he’ll attribute the fluttering in his chest to the cold. Better to admit that he’s catching an illness rather than the alternative… but the little voice inside him starts screaming once again: ‘You’re in love, you’re in love, you love him!’ 

[theskeletonprior]

This Tav Tale was commissioned by @trying-to-do-good about a player's OC that got deleted due a corrupted save file. Thanks so much for trusting me with such a special character. It was a pleasure to write. Interested in a Tav Tale of your own? Look here for details. After a final mission in Avernus, Sil and Karlach are able to return to Faerûn and catch up with some old friends.

When it comes to making the best out of a piss-poor situation, Karlach has earned her salt. Betrayed and sold into service to an archdevil in the Hells? No problem. Just get good at killing devils and demons. Heart removed to make way for an infernal engine that burns so hot you can see the light from inside? Easy. Use it to become a living wildfire. Escape the Hells just to be abducted by a mindflayer nautiloid? Bit of a jam, but she’d managed with the help of a few new friends. Sure, the love of her life had had to become an illithid to save the world, and sure, she had to go back to Avernus so her engine wouldn’t blow bits of her from one end of Baldur’s Gate to the other, but things are looking up. She hadn’t gone back alone, for one thing. She’s got the Blade of Avernus himself on her side, and she’s got Sil. Becoming an illithid has cooled things down a bit, but the woman she loves is there, still. She never left, never let someone else take the fall, never let up. Karlach knows she wouldn’t be where she is without her, without everything she’s sacrificed for what they have now. And today? Today is about to be the best day that Karlach has ever had in the Hells. Today’s the day she gets what she needs to tune her engine up for good. No more blow-outs. No more fucking Avernus.

Do you remember the plan? By now, Karlach has gotten used to feeling Sil’s voice more than hearing it. Certainly does wonders when they need to keep quiet like they do, now, hunkered down on a ridge, overlooking one of Zariel’s own prisons. Karlach risks taking her eyes off the place so she can grin at Sil, eyes dancing like the flames inside her. She nods. The short version’s nice and simple. Spring the mechanic, leg it away from the prison, get the last engine component installed... And then that’s it. Crawl the fuck out of the Abyss and never look back. There’s a brief glint from the road leading out of the prison; that’ll be Wyll, waiting for them to come out with their guy. Beside her, Sil begins to take her shape, a sleek black panther, and Karlach touches a pendant hanging around her neck, feeling for the spell that they’d laid inside it.

Just getting this thing had been an entire adventure and a half, but it’d been worth the effort to be able to store spells this way. Karlach has never really had a knack for magic; more Wyll’s department, even if things have been a bit different ever since they wriggled him out of Mizora’s contract. The magic comes oozing out, and she barely has to think of what she wants to make it so. Coming up with the disguise itself is another adventure behind them. When the gleam of the magic fades, Karlach looks down at her hands, the pale blue of an emissary of Mephistopheles. The sort of person to stroll up to the gates of Zariel’s super-hell-nightmare-jail with a panther in tow, the sort of person to refuse questioning, and to throat-punch anyone who pressed them. The sort of person who’d gotten their brain slurped out by Sil like it was the juicy insides of a watermelon while Karlach held back their arms. Hell of a day.

“Looks all right?” Karlach asks softly. Sil nudges her with her head, emitting a low, rumbling purr. The wildshape puts her back in touch with something, Karlach thinks, like these natural forms contain some echo of the soul Sil lost when she transformed. She strokes Sil’s soft fur, scratching gently under her chin.

I’d know you no matter what you looked like, Sil says, but I think it will fool the guards long enough. Let’s go do what we do best. Karlach grins in earnest, forgetting that she looks like a meal of yore.

If you spend enough time as an attack-dog, the scary person in the corner with a big fuck-off axe, you pick up how to carry yourself like the person who walks in front sort of by accident. Karlach gets them to the cell on pure attitude. It’s way up top, which isn’t great, but it’s better than the lower levels. Can’t signal out from the underground.

“We’ll be going inside,” Karlach says with the disdainful indifference to the rules and regulations. The cambion warden doesn’t love that, and she opens her mouth to argue right until Sil snarls and snaps her teeth. “Take it I won’t need to repeat myself. Open up.” They just don’t make ‘em like they used to; the warden undoes the lock, the arcane sigils around the door, too. Karlach scoffs, really hamming it up. “You may wait for us at your station.” This time, the warden has learned better than to argue. Karlach pads into the room with Sil in tow, silent, listening for retreating footsteps.

“Old Mephistopheles finally cut a deal that Zariel could stomach, did he? Never thought I’d see the day.” The smith is sitting in the windowsill, their figure shrouded by the light of the Hells. Very dramatic. “Or is this Mephistopheles making sure neither he nor Zariel get what they want?” Sil takes a seat on her haunches by the door. She’ll alert them if there are any eavesdroppers. Karlach doesn’t make it another step closer before the smith is on his feet. “Wait. That sound...” As he gets closer, she can make out his features; silvery veins in his pearly pale skin like someone had smashed him over the rocks, but hadn’t given up. An aasimar? She remembers the Nightsong, the radiant look of her, and it’s only because of this she knows that they’re not quite the same. There’s something missing from this man. “Oh, I knew this day would come.” He leans his head right against her chest, heedless to the risk. “My engine. No disguise could ever hide that from me.”

“Vulsus Hush, right?” Karlach lets him listen, his ear pressed to her chest. Seems like their information was good.

“I am.” He knocks gently on her chest in a few different places. “Forgive me. if only I had performed the initial installation... But Zariel, she did not want you to choose, and I refused her. I am sorry. My beautiful engine must have caused you no end of trouble... Are you here to kill me?”

“Nah...” It takes some of Karlach’s air away to hear him say such things. An apology, finally, one that felt right. She clears her throat. “I don’t want you dead. I need to leave the Hells.”

“As do I, as do I. I’ve fallen quite a long way.” Behind her, Karlach can feel Sil beginning to pace. “I knew the bearer of my engine would come for me. It’s the heat, isn’t it? More than the material plane can bear.���

“Tell you all about it on the other side,” Karlach says. “Can’t do anything about that from in here.” Vulsus withdraws at last, looking up at her with eyes all black.

“I’m listening.”

First, we kill you. Vulsus flinches at the voice, but Karlach can see the understanding in his eyes when he looks past her, to the panther. We’ll use a spell that spares your life, but makes you seem a corpse. I must return to my usual form in order to cast it upon you. Do not allow my appearance to disturb you. It’s as good a warning as any, though Karlach isn’t so sure that a smith that could make an engine like that needs one. Sil transforms swiftly and approaches. To his credit, Vulsus doesn’t scream, even when she extends her hands to cast the spell. After so long being imprisoned, perhaps this outcome just isn’t the worst thing. He collapses into Sil when the magic touches him, and Karlach hears the clattering of bones. Wings, once. So it takes the celestial and the infernal to make an engine like hers. That will alert the warden. Karlach—

“On it, baby.” She moves to the window, letting herself flare up. A walking signal fire. “Showtime, Wyll.”

“What in the everliving f—” Uh oh. Karlach turns around, and she knows they’ve been made. Uh oh. The warden spies them just as Sil steps away from Vulsus, who lies still, his ever-dark eyes burned out. It’s a masterful spell; the sockets even smoke. Sil smashes through the barred window with a thought, and then she is a raven, soaring out into the crimson sky. Karlach can’t help herself, she grabs ahold of the cambion the moment the cell door opens.

“Quick! After them!” And with a mighty heave, she throws them bodily through the window. She knows the cambion will likely recover, snap their wings out before they hit the ground, but it gives her time to haul ass out of there while Sil joins up with the good old Blade of Avernus. Karlach gives it a listen; seems like the alarm hasn’t gone up. They got a good enough drop on the warden, sent her running in like Zariel was already on her ass. Karlach takes a moment to change into a fresh disguise—this amulet is worth every struggle to get it. Now she looks like any old guard, disposing of a dead prisoner. Karlach hoists the smith up over her shoulder, closing up the cell behind her. “Next part’s going to be a little gross,” she mumbles. “Gotta get you on the dead record, and into the right disposal. Otherwise they’ll grind you up for hellhound chow, and we still need to talk.” We are safe, my love. Sil’s voice reaches Karlach even at this distance. See you soon.

It’s about as gross as Karlach has promised, getting out through the corpse disposal chute, but when they finally emerge, and she sees Sil waiting for her, her heart jumps. She can see that old gleam in her eyes; they’d kept their color, after the change. They’re so close, now. So close to having her engine fixed, so close to going home together, to seeing their friends again, to being safe. Vulsus Hush has been playing dead the whole while, perhaps to miss the gory chute where the prison’s deceased slide down to the pit, waiting to be burned, or put to other uses that most decent people wouldn’t think about given the choice. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel like walking. From there, it’s just a journey to their latest hideout. It’s not especially homey, but that’s the life. But not for much longer. It’s hard for Karlach not to dance the whole way there, and harder when Sil does not show her own excitement so outwardly anymore. She’s engrossed with the mechanic, discussing her schematics, proposed solutions... Between a fallen aasimar, an illithid, and an infernal smith... Surely they’ll get it down this time.

“I like the insulating chamber,” Vulsus is saying, “but I understand the problem. The installations need to happen down here, or they won’t modulate the temperature properly. How could it without infernal conditions? This must have been someone from Elturel, struggling to adapt to a return to Faerûn. I’d love to meet them, truly. I take it you found my schematics? One of my jailers took them.”

Yes. I consumed their brain matter.

“Serves him right,” Vulsus says, which makes Karlach giggle right out loud. Sil doesn’t laugh as much as she used to, but Karlach can still hear the faint ring of amusement in her tone, even though she says nothing at all of the smith’s snide remark. I have made adjustments for our lack of access to Zariel’s personal forge.

“Leave it to an illithid.”

Indeed. My mind is mighty. It’s things like this that lets Karlach know that even when things are different, some things are never lost completely. It soothes her nerves, some, as Sil and their fallen smith get to work. She should have thought about what she’d do, in the meantime. The wait’s making her crazy. Wyll’s busy leading the prison staff on a merry chase to make doubly sure no one tracks them down, so there’s really nothing at all to do. She fills her time with stretching, with swinging her axe around. Give the edge a good sharpening. Hum a little song. Do a little dance. Shadowbox. Gods, it makes sense it would take so long, but why is it taking so long?

She has a sit down outside of the cavern they’ve hidden away in, chomping a cigar between her teeth and lighting up with a snap of her fingers. It’s just long enough for her to start getting into her head. What if all their friends weren’t so attached? What if they crawl out of the Hells, and no one’s excited to see them? If they’re too busy, or too guilty for letting Sil become an illithid. What if more time’s gone by than they think? Or something’s happened that they’d been too far away to help out with? Gods, it’s not fair. It’s not fair! Karlach can feel herself flaring up; that would’ve been bad outside of Avernus, but here the very earth drinks the flames. She breathes out a long plume of grey smoke. It’s gonna be a long wait. Way too much time to think.

Karlach. Sil doesn’t make a sound as she approaches, drifting gently along. There’s the distant sound of a hammer clinking away, with that fun, infernal distortion to let everyone know that something a little bit evil is going down.

“Hey soldier.” She almost offers her cigar over before she remembers herself. Gods, it would be funny to watch Sil try to smoke one of these.

We have made good progress today. It will soon be time for installation. Sil’s touch always sizzles a bit, even with the adjustments. Illithids have a layer of cool, damp to them. Her touch is feather light on Karlach’s shoulder.

“Can’t wait!” She knows her voice sounds a little strained. Sil doesn’t mince words.

You are troubled, she points out.

“Well... Yeah, a bit. Aren’t you? We’re going home, but—”

But I am not myself.

“No, soldier, that isn’t it. I know you’re you. I’m just... Worried about all our old pals, that’s all.” Karlach pats the spot beside her, and Sil takes a seat gamely.

I understand. If you are concerned, our friends will not forget so easily. Wyll followed us into Avernus, and the others are... Competent. We will find them well. Karlach manages a peaky little smile.

“You think?”

I am confident. Just as I am confident that this new component will repair your engine once and for all. It will be ready for installation tomorrow. Karlach’s eyes go wide, and she almost drops her smoke right on the ground.

“That soon?” There’s a particular way that Sil’s tentacles curl that Karlach has come to learn is a smile.

Will you be ready? Karlach finds her grin again, her fire, which has always been big enough for the both of them.

“Born that way, baby.” She throws an arm around Sil’s narrow shoulders, pulling her in close. “You’re incredible, know that? The best that ever done it.” Sil leans into the touch.

I’m not the best until we know the engine works, she says.

“Well, I believe in you, soldier,” Karlach says. “Always have. Always will. Big day tomorrow. You should rest up that big brain of yours.” Sil nods, drifting gently up onto her feet. She always had that grace about her, and it’s only amplified since.

Join me. Karlach grins again.

“Big spoon or little?” she asks.

Dealer’s choice. Karlach ashes out her smoke, leaping up and sweeping Sil up over her shoulder, eliciting a soft, illithid squeak of surprise. She pats the small of her back. Turns out even mindflayers can be cute as fuck.

“You got it, soldier.”

The installation happens in less than an hour, and Karlach is awake the whole while, watching Sil manipulate the components psionically. It’s riveting, watching the fine infernal mechanisms falling into place. With Vulsus monitoring the engine, the work goes off without a hitch. And that’s when a gate spell opens before them, and a familiar, wizened figure passes through, shuffling casually into their hideaway on linen-wrapped feet.

“Holy shit, Withers!” Karlach tries to sit up from the workbench, but Sil puts a hand on her shoulder to remind her to be still. After the jailbreak, the mechanic hardly blinks at this intrusion, though he only sets his hammer aside when he sees that Karlach knows their visitor.

“Well met, well met.” He looks the same as ever. Awful, but he’s still a sight for sore eyes. “I am come to bear thee both good tidings.”

We may have some news, as well. Sil tells him. The procedure on Karlach’s engine has gone well. There’s nothing left to do but test it.

“I can bear thee away to the Material Plane once more,” says Withers. “’Tis time for old friends to gather, and receive their due for heroic deeds accomplished.”

“You’re kidding!” In her excitement, Karlach needs another gentle touch so she’ll stay down.

“Nay, I do not jest. All things in the appointed place, at the appointed time. I will leave this gateway for thee, and collect thy companions of old.”

“Wyll too?” Karlach can’t stand the thought of leaving the Hells with Wyll still out there. Withers smiles, which makes every crease of his ancient face deepen spectacularly.

“Yea, Wyll too. When thou’rt prepared, leave these sulfurous demesnes behind. We shall see each other anon.” As suddenly as he appeared, Withers turns, passing through the gateway, which remains open behind him. Karlach can’t help but wiggle, bouncing her legs against the bench.

“How much longer ‘til we go?”

Soon, by my reckoning, Sil says. When Vulsus chimes in, they both jump, having nearly forgotten the mechanic.

“I’ll not ask questions about whatever all of that was,” he says. “But it is my way out of Avernus as well, is that right?”

When we see your work is done well, Sil agrees. She’s protective, still, even if this is the man who’d built the engine in the first place. He seems the sort to have a craftsman’s pride, who wouldn’t sabotage the work to his own ends... But if he did, Karlach has no doubt in her mind that Sil would have his brains for breakfast. Vulsus seems unbothered enough by the suspicion, leaning over Karlach to give her heart a listen.

“It’s stabilizing now,” he says. “Sit up, and I’ll have another listen. I like what I hear, and we can go.” It’s all so close now. Karlach sits up slowly, trying her best to contain herself. She wants to burn absolutely blue; and she can feel already that she has a finer control of the flames.

How does it feel? Sil asks, a gentle hand on hers.

“Incredible. Incredible. I think... I’m trying not to get too excited.” She’s drumming out a rhythm with her fingers of her free hand. Vulsus sets his head against her chest once again, this time listening for what feels like forever. Then, at last, he straightens.

“Sounds as it should. Only one thing left to do.” Karlach looks to Sil.

“Are you ready?” Her brows knit. The beat of silence between them says enough. “Can we have a minute? Swear we won’t leave without you.” Vulsus gives a faint inclination of his head, retreating at least out of sight. Karlach keeps her attention on Sil, catching her eyes. Even in her wild shapes, those eyes stay the same. Karlach is sure she’d know them even if they met again in another life.

Is there something you need to discuss? Sil asks, completely serene, completely tranquil.

“I just... I wanted to make sure you’re feeling right about all this,” Karlach says. “About going back. It’s easy for me to be excited, but the way I move through the world’s same as ever, you know? Sometimes someone’s gonna be a prick about the ol’ horns.” She knocks on her good one. Depending on where you go, even that’s an understatement. “But it’ll be hard for us to travel in the open. The world won’t be so accepting, even if we don’t have to kill a dozen orthons every other tenday.”

We cannot stay here, Sil says. I am not afraid of the world. We will be together. But... I am changed. I cannot be who I was before we fought the Netherbrain. I wonder if it is possible to grieve for such a thing. If you feel such grief, or our friends. Sil’s posture curls somewhat inward, and she lowers her head. Karlach takes her by both hands.

“I miss that pretty face, sometimes,” she admits. “But you know what I think, soldier? I think the soul’s not the only place where all your feelings live. I believe it when you say you love me, and not just ‘cause that’s what I want. I think our friends will see what I see. And I’m not above fisticuffs in your honor.” Karlach watches for that telltale curl of the tentacles, and smiles when she sees it. “If you feel like you need a soul to run a little hotter for you, you can hold onto mine. Don’t you ever worry. C’mere.” Karlach gathers Sil up into her arms and holds her tight. “You ‘n’ me, no matter what, okay?”No matter what, Sil intones, her psionic presence softer then, almost warm. Her heart’s still in it. I am ready when you are. Let’s go home together.

Coming through the gateway feels like surfacing after a long time underwater. Under foul, sulfur-smelling water. Just the taste of the fresh air makes Karlach’s head swim. She inhales deep, dizzy with the simple desire to laugh. But then the other shoe comes down. The engine. Is it all right? Sil comes through behind her with Vulsus in tow. She drifts in a soundless circle around Karlach, focused, assessing.

Are you all right? she asks. What do you feel?

“I feel like I could breathe fire!” The excitement is too much. Before, this would have had her venting air hot enough to cook a kobold alive. “But... On purpose.”

“Let’s have one last listen. I’m going to put your beautiful engine through her paces... And with your leave, we can meet again after we’ve enjoyed our freedom. You might need a tune-up, after some time outside of the Hells.” Vulsus approaches, listens, and the whole while Karlach is vibrating. She can barely hold still. At last, the mechanic draws back, pressing a soul coin into her hand. “Do the honors?” Karlach looks to Sil, and beckons.

“Would you?” Sil takes the coin, squeezing Karlach’s hand gently.

Ready?

“Since day one,” Karlach says with a fearless grin. She can’t be nervous even for a second; not with Sil here. The coin drops in, and Sil backs away quickly to avoid the heat, the fire, but Karlach is in control. Perfectly in control, in a way that she’s never been before. She can feel the rumbling deep inside her, but it doesn’t take her too far. It’s working. It’s working! Even the excitement isn’t enough to push her into dangerous territory; the burning of the Hells is contained. Hers. She catches Sil up by the waist, spinning around, whooping and hollering. “We did it, soldier! We did it! We’re never going back!” She can’t count how many times she turns them around before she settles at last. “You’re a fuck of a mechanic, Vulsus Hush.”

“Please. I doubt I could have solved this particular quirk of your engine without a little help from your friend.” He gives a stately bow. “I’ll be off, now, if it’s all the same to you. Come find me for that tune up. Waterdeep, about this time next month. There’s a rough little inn called The Ship’s Prow.” Karlach nods, fishing for her coinpurse. She tosses the whole thing to Vulsus Hush who catches it nimbly.

“For the road,” she says. After all, she remembers how it felt to come out of the Hells with nothing but what she could carry. “Be safe, yeah?” Vulsus nods, gives a little wave, and just like that, it’s done. She’s free. Really free. She turns to Sil, teary-eyed with relief. “You know, I could kiss you,” she says. “You really saved me, Sil. My whole life from now on... You gave that to me.” Sil is still pretty hard to read, but her actions aren’t. Her touch doesn’t sizzle now that Karlach’s got her flame under control.

You could have managed it without me, she says, and Karlach scoffs at the idea.

“Wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun, though.” It’s only then that she’s clear enough to look around. Where had Withers sent them? “I know this road,” Karlach realizes aloud. “I think... This is the way to the Emerald Grove. Looks like we’re going on a victory tour.”

We will need some supplies to travel, Sil points out. I cannot show myself.

“Got it, baby. Let’s get a move on. Get you safe.”

It’s shockingly smooth sailing compared to the first time they’d come this way, tadpole-brained and thrust into the thick of it. A long overdue and peaceful stroll down memory lane. Withers had done his work well, setting them down here, though it’s hard to say when and where they’ll be meeting with everyone else. Even with an illithid in tow, the welcome at the grove is a warm one. Francesca’s a breath of fresh air after Kagha, and she sends them on with good tidings for Halsin, and almost more provisions than they can carry. A good cloak with an illusion or two cast upon it is all it takes to help Sil travel without risk of a misunderstanding, and without the need for constant wildshaping. Just for giggles, they pass by the place where they met, along the Risen Road.

“S’funny,” Karlach muses, watching the river below. “You tried to put me out right away, and look at us now. Operating at a reasonable temperature.”

At the time, I did not realize the fire was you, Sil admits. I wanted to help.

“You did!” Karlach says with a grin. “You helped all of us. You’ll see. Just you wait ‘til we get the old crew back together. Everywhere we’ve been... Things are a little better than they were when we got there. I’ll show you.”

It’s even easier than Karlach thinks it’s going to be, to show Sil her good work. The shadowlands are clear of the curse, flourishing and beautiful again, and the people displaced by the dark magic are rebuilding their homes. They meet Halsin there, shaped into a big old bear, with an army of children riding on his back. By happy chance, Shadowheart meets them on the road, resplendent in the attire of a cleric of Selûne and they camp the night just outside of Rivington. It’s so much like old times that Karlach finds it hard to call it a night until Sil joins her, shaped into a panther for no reason other than a good snuggle. That’s another sign, for Karlach, that not even an illithid transformation can keep Sil from being who she is. She purrs, long and loud and deep, and Karlach knows it isn’t just for show, some kind of appeasement. They can still be happy.

“We’ll get to see everyone else tomorrow,” Karlach says, stroking her fingers through Sil’s thick fur. “Withers took care of making sure we’d all find our way in on time. Even Lae’zel!”

I am glad, Sil says. She must have much to attend to in the Astral Plane.

“Yeah. We’ll hear all about it, I’m sure. Unstoppable, that woman.” Karlach sighs. They’re all so incredible, and they’ve come so far. “Back to the Gate tomorrow, can you believe it?”

It will be difficult to sleep, Sil admits with a flick of her tail. But we should try. Karlach nuzzles her face into Sil’s side, sighing out a contented breath. Her flames burn a low, brilliant blue. “Just one more sleep, and we’ll be together with our friends. Finally.”

It’s damned good to be back in the Gate. Sure it stinks to high heaven, but it’s nothing compared to the Hells. They still get free room and board at the Elfsong, thanks to Sil’s clever negotiating. That’s for life, now that they’ve saved the city and everyone in it. They can take it slow in the city, even if some of the things they’d hoped to do before were not quite so illithid-friendly. They still find time to take in some of the local culture as they wrangle their old friends. Wyll catches up to them by the afternoon, having spent breakfast with his father, and then joins them to stop in on Rolan at the new Sorcerous Sundries. Sil spends some time there, engrossed in new research, happily bumping into Omeluum, to trade tips on brain matter alternatives. Just after dusk, they meet up with Astarion, who brings them to a bawdy show that makes Karlach laugh until her ribs ache and then laugh some more, outdone only by Minsc, who seems only to understand half of the jokes but still has a grand old time. Maybe it’s because he has Jaheira quietly explaining the jokes into his ear. Or maybe it’s the hamster. Who can say?

It’s a perfect day, made better when they steal into the Emperor’s old hideaway, where Sil can really join the fun without any subterfuge. It’s done up beautifully, with a crackling fire and twinkling lights, like they’d never had to fight for deal life in this very room. When Gale arrives, looking smart and with his beloved tressym on his heels, he cooks for the whole damned camp, and there’s not a doubt in anyone’s mind that they’ll have to leave their meal to fend off an attack. It’s even better than old times. Everyone has a fond embrace for Sil, even Lae’zel, who’s had to have her image projected all the way from another plane just to be here. She clasps the druid in a quick, brusque squeeze that obliterates any chance of hesitance from anyone about Sil’s new form. There’s not a soul amongst them that doesn’t have a tale to tell, a fond memory to share with Sil. Karlach thinks it’s funny that she’d thought for a second that she would be anything less than the center of attention when they all owe her so much. It’s not even about the myriad life debts, really. She’s just loved. She’s so loved. Karlach can see it in the way that Shadowheart edges in a little closer, to be next to her. The unabashed way that Astarion laughs when he talks with her. Karlach can see it plain as day just in the way that Halsin looks at Sil, the earnest way he recalls the time they’d rescued Thaniel, how brave Sil had been then. She can see it when Wyll dances for them. In the sound of their laughter. It’s been a wild ride, and none of them are the same, but it’s all okay. They’re all okay. Gods, how she wishes they could spend more than just a night like this. Together, and safe, and happy. When Withers gathers them round, promising that the threat is ended, but that there may be more adventures to come, Karlach’s heart leaps. She holds Sil’s hand in hers and raises her goblet and does her best to fight back happy tears. They’re home.

At the end of the night, Karlach still can’t sleep, even full of wine and good cooking as she is. She’d even missed the sound of their ragtag group at camp, all the snoring, the sleep-talk. She prods at the fire with a poker, her feelings so big she’s almost worried she’ll wake someone up. Sil glides to Karlach’s side, sitting down beside her, and leaning her head against her shoulder. They sit like that quietly, for awhile, just listening to their old friends breathing all around them.

Where should we go from here? Sil asks. Karlach blinks at the question, pausing in her prodding of the fire.

“Y’know, I never really thought past the moment we got out of the Hells,” she admits. “I figured I’d hug you up about it, and congratulate you for being so smart and so skilled and we’d waltz off into the sunset. So... Guess we’re heading west.” She laughs. “I am sure about one thing, though. It won’t ever be just us, alone. Our friends will still be there if we need ‘em. And that’s grand, isn’t it?”

Truly. I am as grateful for all of you, Sil says. I can no longer doubt what I have become. You have shown me this. West, then, and I will stay beside you. No matter what. Karlach leans over, pressing a kiss to Sil’s temple.

“No matter what, baby.”

[2d-dreams]

Hi, happy WBW! (As usual, I am @writeblr-of-my-own, this is my main and apparently I can't switch them).

I am hungry and it's almost lunchtime for me, so for today's question let's talk food! If someone were to come in your world, what would be the best places to eat food there? What does a typical dish look like? Are there differences between cities?

I wanted to follow this with art and lots of details, but my body isn't allowing that, so I'll just answer with what I got.

Flatlanders' diets are mostly made up by vegetables and legumes. They might add fruit and insects – insects are any living being that can fit in their mouth entirely.

Any typical Flatlander dish, from their view, doesn't really look like anything, even to the most intellectual and well-practiced sighted Circles. From above, many different dishes may look near identical.

Flatlanders mostly tell them apart by texture, telling apart different vegetables by the angles or number of bumps in their perimeters. [cooking is too low for any self-respecting Polygon to do, only Isosceles and Women do it, so Feeling the ingredients is fine.] There is also the more delicate recognition by smell [and by extension and quite obviously, taste]

Leafy vegetables, their flowers and their seeds are a staple of Flatlander cuisine because they don't make much of a mess. Some fruit and all animals become a mess when killed, as instead of flesh they only have juices inside, which spill and are a hassle to deal with. Small animals make less of a/no mess or can be eaten in one bite. Big animals aren't worth the time and effort, and are dangerous to keep, so beyond beasts of burden they don't see much use.

The favorite animals for Flatland consumption are bees! They're small enough, and soft enough thanks to their nearly circular bodies. They also keep a unique taste related to the plants they fed on, usually being sweet. They also produce other foods like eggs, honey, larvae, and pollinize crops. They're awesome.

[Fun fact, some of the queens of the species of bees that are commonly kept by 2D beekeepers feed off of the body juices of other animals instead of nectar/etc like their workers. Many Irregulars are fed to the bees...]

They likely have a domesticated cow-like animal exclusively for milk and related products. [And food for the b e e s. and bones. Maybe scrap off the little amount of skin on their perimeters for food.]

Seasoning is usually done through sauces/salsas - you mix whatever specific stuff you want, and add in a special ingredient. You can either wrap the food inside of a string of solidified sesson-sauce like a weird taco or drop it in liquid form into the dish, coating it with the sauce that will quickly semi-solidify on the food. Yes they can be sweet too!

Some of the most common dishes include..

A mix of several different vegetables, flower petals, seeds and legumes. Usually the seeds/etc will be wrapped in a leaf of the vegetable. A dry version is just this, but a juicy version may add dead bees or small fruit. Like a salad. The name translated might be "flowerbed". Like tacos, eggs or toast, a basic nice meal.

Two different types of bread. Flat bread [known as dimbread] and fluffy bread [brightbread].

Flat bread is simple, easy, straightforward. It does not rise like our bread, but its relatively soft.

Fluffy bread is more like ours, filled with little pockets of air that give it the fluff. To make it this way, they put the liquid batter in a closed box at high heat, where it will turn to gas, expanding to all the space inside. When it is gas it must be cooled down extremely quickly.

Theres prob more but its 432 am