#oh and this comes to mind because I’ve been writing MM stuff again (kinda) and reploids get mentioned a bit

[no1ryomafan]

I said I was gonna talk more about MM on this blog again and I will probably eventually do analysis stuff I just need to prep this shit cause those post take time for the ones that are more coherent and not just my usual word vomits, BUT I do need to word vomit for a second about one thing that plagued my mind again today.

One of my biggest peeves with the series lore is how reploids and humans hardly have interactions, more so in the X series as Zero makes a bit more effort in this regard, given it’s a huge deal how reploids are seen lower then humans for the longest time- but what has dawned on me more of another factor that really sucks about this is how reploid society itself is ALSO unexplored.

We hardly have any idea of what makes them different from humans, we can only grasp basic details from what the games provide us but it’s unclear if there society is either “very much identical to humans but still has changes to make it different given their machines” or “completely different down to how they live and are treated”. I can’t speak for every robot media ever as I haven’t consumed them all-that’s a impossible task as some are bound to not interest me lol-but I feel like ones that are primarily having sentient robots and multiple of them rather then stuff like mechas where they don’t have much of a personality (usually) or the cases like Aigis in P3 where she is a robot in a mostly human society and therefore learns to become more human, they usually try to give the robots some kind of established society but MM only gives us breadcrumbs.

Like I know transformers is a bigger series so it got more chances to be incredibly fleshed out but I think about how my friends had told me about it and it’s society from just the comics is incredibly detailed that you even know they have religions n shit. And I’m not saying MM has to go to that extent even if it’s had metaphors of that in the later series, but more context to what reploid society has and doesn’t would be nice.

If they actually do need to eat and we aren’t supposed to guess that the energy tanks n stuff are there equivalent, if they ever got to have hobbies or jobs besides serving under humans especially when they have free will, etc. More of how they operate would be really nice to know but alas much like many things in this series lore it’s never going to be deeply elaborated on so I have to throw darts at a board.

[idy-ll-ique]

baby names

pairing: loki x pregnant!f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none, it's very cute 😩

requested: nope

word count: ~1.6k

summary: y/n is pregnant and loki can't stay away from her

author's note: hiya peeps! a loki fic after such a long time, kinda got tired of writing bucky fics all the time,,,, (though next week there's gonna be a bucky x f!reader 👀) enjoy!

masterlist

---

"Loki."

"Don't call me that."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at her husband and he grumbled angrily, pulling her closer to him. "Sweetheart," Y/N began, "You should go." Loki whined childishly, burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere," he firmly mumbled Y/N sighed, running her hand through his silky soft hair. "6th time. Yet they always invite you. Why aren't you leaving the house?"

"Because you're pregnant! I'm not going anywhere until the baby is safely out of you and you both are well taken care of." Y/N smiled softly at his concern but pulled away from Loki. "Well I think you need some sun, you should go. And no is not an option. You know what? I'm calling Tony right now and telling him you are going with all of them." Before Loki could object, Y/N picked up her phone and called Tony.

Loki had been invited by Thor and the other male Avengers on a weekend trip to the beach, sponsored by Tony Stark. Everyone was going; Tony, Steve, Thor, Bruce, Clint, Scott, Sam, Bucky, Vision… they'd also invited Loki, since he had now permanently settled on Midgard with his lovely wife Y/N, but he'd initially refused because he didn't want to leave Y/N alone.

She was 8½ months pregnant. Though there was still a week or two of estimated time remaining for the birth, Loki didn't want to leave because what if the baby came early? Tony, Clint and Scott, who were also fathers, had assured him several times since Y/N's pregnancy announcement that the baby would be okay, Y/N would be okay but he still worried himself sick everyday.

"Do I absolutely have to go?" Loki groaned, lying flat on his back on the bed as Y/N sat back down after her chat with Tony. "Yes. I need some time alone— you need some time alone. You're gonna give yourself a heart attack one day by how much you worry over this baby of ours. A nice trip to the beach with clear skies and golden sand and the blue sea will do you much good."

Loki sulked. Y/N, getting a teasing smirk on her face, nudged his shoulder. "Hey, there are gonna be girls in skimpy bikinis on the beach, you know," she suggested and Loki made a face, pulling Y/N down to give her a deep kiss. "I love you," he glared at her, "I don't care about those scantily dressed women. Fine, if it makes you feel better, I'll go."

"Yay! Now I can call Wanda and Nat and Sharon and Pepper and Maria and Darcy over so we can have our own day out! It's gonna be awesome," Y/N squealed, already busy texting as Loki sputtered.

Is that why she wants me out of the house that bad?

He couldn't blame her, though, the pregnancy had taken a toll on both the parents. Y/N used to be in pain all the time, had severe nausea and couldn't go out with all her friends like she used to. Now that the symptoms had started wearing off, he really couldn't blame her for wanting to have a nice day out with friends. "Have fun, darling," he smiled, giving her another kiss.

---

"Yo, Lokes, you ready to go?" Clint called out cheerfully as Loki walked towards the group of men, a scowl on his face. Yes, at home he'd agreed to accompany them on the trip but now that the day was actually here… "Not really but I don't have a choice," he grumbled and Steve smiled amusedly. "Y/N kick you out?" Loki rolled his eyes. "Yes, how did you know? She wants to have a girl's day out with the other ladies."

"I overheard Wanda and Natasha talking. Anyway, come on, let's hit the road!"

All of them got into two cars: Steve, Sam, Bucky, Thor and Loki in one while Clint, Scott, Tony, Bruce and Vision got into the other. Sam was driving, Steve was in the passenger seat, Bucky was in the middle seat and Thor and Loki were in the extreme back. "So, how's Y/N doing?" Bucky asked Loki, leaning back on his seat.

"She's doing well, the nausea and pain has stopped," Loki answered, following Bucky's lead. "I'm glad to hear it. Have you decided on a name? Because I assure you, Bucky is a really good contender," he grinned cheekily and even Loki laughed, shaking his head. "We haven't thought of any names as of yet."

"Are you looking for a Midgardian name or an Asgardian one?" Sam piped up. Loki blinked. "You know, that is a really good question," he muttered. "How about a Midgardian first name and an Asgardian middle name?" Steve suggested. "Why not the other way around?" Thor frowned. "Well, yeah, that works too," Steve shrugged. "Hm, that's a good suggestion. I will talk to Y/N."

"So is Bucky on the table—"

"No."

"Aw, man."

---

"Hey girl, after a long time!" Natasha grinned, giving Y/N a familial hug. "Hi, gals! Yes, I even got Loki to leave, took a lot of begging but he finally agreed," she sighed. "Could've just given him head or something," Pepper muttered and Y/N burst out laughing as the other ladies gasped. "Pepper!" Sharon exclaimed, shocked.

"What? It usually works on Tony," Pepper defended herself as everyone joined Y/N in her laughter. "So, ready to shop?" All the ladies got into a 7-seater car, with Maria in the driver's seat. "Can't wait! This Avenging stuff doesn't give me time for self-care, I swear. Haven't shopped in ages!" Wanda sighed. All the women agreed with her, muttering their yesses.

"By the way, Y/N, I've wanted to ask you this for so long now, have you decided on baby names yet?" Darcy questioned with a grin. "Oh! No we haven't as of yet, I have lots of good names but I haven't talked to Loki…" Sharon looked up from her phone. "Do you have Asgardian names or like, normal, Earth names? I have a feeling that Loki would want Asgardian names," she suggested.

Y/N frowned in thought. Sharon was right; both the brothers, Loki and Thor, took great pride in their homeland. She didn't mind, to be honest, Asgardian names were wonderful. "I like Asgardian names too, though, I'm open to it," she chuckled.

"Great! So if it's a girl, Darcy—"

"Darcy!"

"What? I'm just saying…"

---

"Brother?" Loki startled out of his thoughts, turning to Thor. "Sorry, I was… thinking," he cleared his throat and Thor smiled, sitting next to him. Around 6 hours had passed since they'd arrived at the resort and Loki couldn't get Y/N out of his mind. What is she doing? Is she okay? Should I go check on her? What if the baby is coming? Surely she'd call me if that happens…

"About Y/N?" Loki went red and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah." Thor clapped him on the back once, guffawing good-naturedly. "Don't you fret, brother, the ladies she is with are extremely competent! She will be okay, and plus, the baby isn't going to be here for another week or so," Thor assured him but worry gnawed Loki. Nope, I can't do it. He abruptly stood up, startling Thor.

"I'm going home."

"Loki—"

Just a second later, Loki disappeared.

---

"Mm," Y/N moaned, a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, "Isn't it delicious? What do ya say… Rosie?" The baby kicked once. "No? Okay, well… Sarah? Petunia?" The baby kicked more. "Oh, you want masculine names, huh… Uh, Alex?" One kick. "I know, Chris!" Another kick. "Tom?" More kicks. "So you don't want Midgardian names? Well, I don't know very many Asgardian names…"

"I do."

Y/N shrieked loudly, dropping her tub of ice cream as she turned to see Loki standing near the bedroom door. "Loki?" She picked a book off the nightstand and threw it at him. He caught it easily, sitting down next to her while keeping the book where it was. She instantly cuddled into his side, tearing up. Sure, she was the one who was too eager to send him away but she was also the one who couldn't stay away from him.

"Aw, hey, I'm here, my love," Loki whispered comfortingly, rubbing her back as she sobbed into his arms. "Don't go again. I missed you," she sniffled and Loki pressed a soft kiss to her head. "That is also why I came home early, darling, I missed you too," he laughed and she snuggled even closer to him.

"Little baby Axelia missed you too— ow! No? So… what about Lucinda? Ow, ooh… Priscilla? No?" Loki watched with an infatuated smile as she tried out different names on the baby. "What if our baby wants a more masculine name, love?" he asked and she turned to him.

"Hm, have you got any names in mind?"

"Well, Barnes was suggesting we name our child Bucky—"

"Ow! Nope, they don't like it."

"Oh well. He's going to be disappointed but what the baby says goes," Loki teased and Y/N burst out laughing. She stopped all of a sudden, giving Loki a small smile. "Please don't go anywhere again," she whispered and Loki shook his head, gathering her in his arms. "I missed you just as much as you did me, Y/N, I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, min kjæreste."

"...That's Norwegian, isn't it?"

"Beautiful, though, isn't it?

"Yes, very."

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[carpsurprise]

sam stans i come.. bearing a gift.. sooo..

plot: the farmer teaches sam how to plant flowers, despite his clumsy nature

word count: 1.9k

notes: once again, gn!farmer. this is.. way more than i usually write but i felt particularly inspired... and we all know i love sam, put under a read more bc it is a little long. i’m also posting this on ao3! don’t be surprised if another sam writing comes up soon... 

A quiet sigh left the farmer’s mouth, their eyes focusing on Sam’s clumsy, gloved hands handling the delicate flowers. He tipped the young flowers from their nursery containers with care, mindful of the placement of his fingers against the dirt and the positions of the leaves. The empty nursery container was thrown haphazardly on the ground, making the farmer’s eyebrow quirk for just a moment before returning their attention back to Sam. With the young flower held in both of his hands, he shot the farmer a nervous glance.

“Heh,” he chuckled, heat starting to creep up the back of his neck, “thought you bought seeds from Pierre? I didn’t think you’d plant already blooming flowers.”

The farmer shrugged. “They’re still nice. Besides, those are more for decoration than anything— and you asked me to teach you to plant flowers, didn’t you? Teaching you to plant a seed would take a moment.”

“I guess so,” he muttered, still nervously holding the formed potting soil. “Now what do I do, stick it in the ground?”

“You could, or,” the farmer held Sam’s hands gently, allowing him to hear his own heartbeat in his head. The farmer helped support the stem of the plant, gently kneading their thumb and the inside of their pointer finger along the potting soil. The roots of the plant had finally appeared in a jumbled mess. “See, you want to spread out the roots a little so it can get water easier.”

Sam nodded with a dry swallow, watching the farmer’s eyes focus intently on the roots of the flower. They continued, “You want to be super careful, though, they’re very delicate. Just a gentle little touch will be good to separate them out.” 

A few clumps of dirt had fallen from the plant, landing on Sam’s lap and rolling off his thighs back to the earth. The farmer didn’t seem to mind the dirt that covered their legs. He directed his focus back to the flowers in front of him, and off of the farmer’s legs. Sam mirrored the farmer’s actions with his own gloved thumb, trying to smooth out the roots as gently as his clumsy hands would allow. It was funny, he thought, that he could master guitar strings flawlessly, but at a moment of tender precision he seemed to become nervous.

“Mm, that’s good!” The farmer exclaimed, slowly retracting their hands from Sam’s. “Now gently place the flower into the hole we made,” they directed, holding the sides of the parted dirt as Sam lowered the new flower into its forever home. He let go of it with slow hands, helping the farmer pat the parted dirt into the open sides with one hand. Sam let out a breath, retracting himself from the planter box.

The farmer let out a breathy chuckle, moving their trowel to their side. “This is usually relaxing for people.”

“I know.”

“You said you wanted to learn how to plant stuff because of your mom, right?”

Sam groaned, feeling himself get caught up in his own lie. “Yeah. I think it’d make her happy to know I learned, for some reason. I’m afraid she doesn’t think what I do for myself is very… useful.”

“But you’re a wonderful guitar player,” the farmer cried, turning their body to him, “and a wonderful song writer. You’ve got more talent than most in the valley, especially when it comes to music,” they smiled, making Sam’s heart skip a beat.

This is why he came to the farmer in a full sweat, red face, and nervous hands asking them to teach him how to garden. 

He grinned, instinctively moving his hand to scratch at the base of his neck. “Thanks, it means a lot—,” he interrupted himself with a startled gasp, feeling the remains of dirt on his gardening glove slip down his spine. He quickly pulled his hand from his neck, looking accusingly at the dirty, green and yellow gardening glove he had forgotten he was still wearing.

The farmer laughed at his mistake innocently, their shoulders shaking with them. It was charming for Sam, yet felt himself still chilled by the quick surprise of things running down his back. “I’ve forgotten I was wearing my gloves many, many times,” they laughed, “It sorta just feels like normal after a while.

Lifting their hands, also still gloved, they flipped them from the palm to the back of the hand. Sam admired the size of their hands, and the obvious wear and tear of the daily work they do written all over the gloves. 

“Need to get a new pair,” they muttered.

Sam had lit up, splaying his dirty gloves across his jeans without thought. “Oh! Let me buy you a new pair then, you know,” he began to fluster again. He stuttered out his response, weary of making his affections known too soon, “to thank you for teaching me how to do this.”

“Sam, you don’t have to do that. I had a lot of fun! Besides, I needed to do this anyway.”

Sam shook his head, grabbing one of their gloved hands. “No, no, please let me, and then I can get a pair that matches!”

The farmer was silent.

“... If that’s alright with you?”

The farmer snapped out of their little daze from his words, nodding and then reassuring him. Accepting his offer of new gloves, they promised to stick with the pair they have now until Sam came to the farmhouse with his gift. “Oh, Sam, before you leave can you bring home a potted plant for your mother? I’d like to thank her for the fertilizers she’s been sending me.”

He nodded. “Yeah, totally. She’d love that.”

Jumping up from their position, the farmer ran over to the side of their house, sifting through gardening tools and empty containers. They pulled out a weathered, but nice small pot. Sam watched as they dragged their hose out, rinsing the dust and dirt off of it before bringing it back over. “Here! I have no clue where this came from, but it’s nice and pretty.”

Sam agreed, immediately taking the trowel and shoveling dirt into it. “Ah, remember, Sam! Not too much dirt yet, we don’t want the roots exposed,” they instructed, causing him to quickly shovel out a little bit of dirt. He pushed the dirt to the sides of the pot, looking at the farmer expectedly. The grin on their face had made him nervous.

“You do it, Sam. I need to make sure you know how to do this, and I think Jodi will like it a lot more if you potted it. It can be a gift from the both of us.”

His fear of failure had returned to the center of his chest. Without another word he began to focus on the steadiness of his hands, removing the next flower from the container and carefully holding it with one hand. The plant  had seemed bigger when next to the others, but in his large hand it was evident it was still growing. His thumb and forefinger gently massaged the end of the dirt, staying mindful of the few roots poking out.

Feeling the farmer’s eyes upon his hands had made his heart pick up once again. He had always loved their eyes, especially when the sun hit them just right to show the beautiful color of— a slight crunch was heard. His right hand had immediately left the plant’s roots. 

The farmer laughed gently, placing a hand onto Sam’s arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just try to be more gentle. It doesn’t look like you’ve pulled any roots out… completely. Just focus on the roots and your hands, don’t think about anything else.”

Easy for the farmer, he thought. Trying to keep his mind from racing back to them (who had seemed to scoot a little closer to him when he was focused on the roots, now that he was thinking about it), he continued to softly spread the delicate roots of the azaleas, looking to the farmer to see if that was sufficient. The farmer nodded silently, a kind smile on their face to encourage Sam. He placed the small flowers into the pot, still holding the stems gently with his left hand and using his right to pack in enough dirt to keep it steady.

He sat back on his heels, admiring the bright pink of the flowers and the white flower pot with baby pink swirls just around the rim. He had, once again, unknowingly placed his dirty gloves onto his jeans. He was expecting Jodi to be upset with him as soon as he enters the front door, but hopefully, with this flower pot in hand, she’ll excuse his messy day out.

“See? You did amazing!” The farmer praised, fluffing out the flowers by the stems. 

Their praise had made Sam’s fleeting worries of his mother dissipate, causing him to turn to them with a teasing look. “Yeah, except for the part where I nearly destroyed the roots of the poor thing.”

Shrugging, the farmer got back to their feet and lifted the pot with a grunt. “It’s fine, you did great anyway. Like everything else, it takes practice.” 

They grabbed another bag, along with their watering can and returned to Sam’s side. They watered the flowers immediately, then cut open the bag of mulch and placed a thin layer over the wet dirt. Sam watched without question, watching their hands work around the plant and dirt effortlessly. The farmer’s moves seemed calculated, the only way Sam could relate or keep up was by comparing it to the movement of hands on guitar strings, knowing when to use gentle touch or a moment of pressure.

They pulled back, swiping the palms of their hands together to brush off any loose dirt from their gloves. Sam should’ve been doing that the whole time. “Finishing touches are done! She’s already to head to your house, Sam,” they stood up once more, hoisting the pot up into their arms and ready to hand off to Sam. 

“Make sure it’s watered when the soil feels dry; and it can’t be in the sun all of the time, it likes some shade sometimes. The pot is sorta big so it’ll grow a little, but once it kinda grows out some of the leaves and flowers may start dying. Just pluck or cut those off and it’ll grow back.”

Sam nodded slowly, trying to repeat the farmer’s instructions back to himself in an attempt to not forget them. He knew the attempt was futile, but found that with every gray cloud there is a silver lining: he can always come back to see the farmer, just to ask for it again. He gave a nervous giggle, awkwardly trying to hold the gift for his mother.

“Please tell Jodi I said thank you, it means a lot to have help from the community.”

“Well, uh, if you ever need any help don’t hesitate to ask. I’m always here for you,” Sam said sheepishly, almost immediately regretting not omitting his last sentence.

The farmer grinned, waving goodbye to him. “I know you are, and thank you, too.”

He smiled back at them, saying his goodbye and heading back down the dirt path to town, praying that no one would see him struggling with the giant pot of azaleas, potted by him, for his mother. 

[shyneanon]

Heyyyy so y’all know how I usually like to write HT!Sans but today I kinda wanted to write him creepy the way some people like to write him. I thought it’d be kind of fun to do that. Yandere, mwahaha. So I guess this is sort of an x reader fic but the feeling is not mutual.

That said, before reading: We know yandere-type characters are preeeeetty out of touch with reality and are obviously supposed to be unsettling. Meaning in this, Sans isn’t exactly paying attention to MC when she says “no.” It doesn’t get really sexual, but still, it’s non-con. So if that bothers you, maaaaybe don’t read this. Just felt it was fair to warn you guys, I don’t want to upset anyone.

---

How long had you been down here?

You weren’t sure anymore.

As of late you had been engaged in an inner debate regarding whether you would rather be dead. You weren’t sure. At least if you were alive there was… a chance?... you could get home and eventually die there, happy.

But that was seeming farther and farther away. The memories of home were already fading. Amazing how the human mind becomes accustomed to its current surroundings, yeah? How quickly things become “normal.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it was just you and Papyrus in this house, where you were currently chained up in the living room. He wasn’t so bad. Scary to look at, sure, but friendly, and relatively normal when it came to holding conversation.

It was Sans who made things so unpleasant.

He hadn’t done anything to you, it wasn’t like he hurt you. He was just… creepy. The way that his one red eye would just lock onto you and just… stare, unblinking…. It scared you. The look was intense. Too intense. You just wished you knew what he was thinking. At first, you’d told yourself he probably didn’t mean to be creepy. He had a big injury in his head, maybe it had screwed up his understanding of social norms. Stuff like not staring. And it only freaked you out so much because of the way he looked and how he didn’t need to blink.

But he freaked you out for other reasons too.

A couple of times he had approached you, and you’d thought that maybe he was going to strike up a conversation. You’d witnessed him have conversations with Paps before. That was when he seemed the least creepy. When he was just acting normal around his brother. He made some pretty messed up jokes but that didn’t really bother you too much. It just seemed like whenever he took notice of you he got really really weird. He’d sat down next to you, and you’d been a little nervous, but you had decided to try and start a conversation. Which had… kind of worked. Sans seemed fine with, uh… indulging you? Like he thought you just wanted to talk and was happy to listen. He made some comments, but mostly just listened. That wasn’t weird.

It was the touching that had been weird.

Again, he didn’t do anything to you, as far as you were aware he wasn’t some sort of sick pervert. But he’d just… started touching your hair, and even your face, the whole time his eye just locked on whatever it was his fingers were preoccupied with. He’d only seemed to be half paying attention to what you were saying.

You were pretty sure he’d even sniffed you a couple of times.

So from then on you’d just tried to pretend like he wasn’t there. He’d sat next to you a couple of times, probably expecting a conversation, but you’d just smiled politely at him and he’d gotten up and left, looking disappointed and even a little annoyed. He didn’t seem to mind when you spoke to his brother, though, so you didn’t think he was like… yandere, for lack of a more succinct term. So that was at least a relief.

Still, you did your best to ignore the sounds coming from the kitchen, of cooking. The times when you least wanted to talk to Sans were when Papyrus was out. Times like now. Sans was making a meal, and you could smell it, but you refused to say anything. He could take it as an invitation for more hair-sniffing.

Eventually the sounds of cooking stopped and you could hear him eating. Your own stomach felt kind of empty. But usually Papyrus was the one to cook meals for you. Thank God.

When Sans left the kitchen with a plate in his hand, you tried to ignore him… until he stopped in front of you.

“Hey,” he said.

Um.

“Hi,” you said.

He held up the plate. “I have food for you.”

“Oh, OK. Cool.”

He sat down next to you. Dude, take a hint. You could see that on the plate were medium-sized pieces of cooked meat. Instead of handing you the plate, though, he grabbed a singular piece of meat and then held it out to you. When you reached out to try to take it he pulled back.

What the… Is he mocking me?

You almost had to hold back a wounded response, but he then held the piece up to your lips and moved closer to you.

… O… oh.

“Um,” you said. “This is really nice but you can just hand me the plate—“

“Just eat.”

… OK. You opened your mouth and he slipped the food into it; once he withdrew you started chewing, not looking at him. But you could feel his red eye locked onto you.

Then you felt his fingers running along your neck, and you flinched.

“It’s OK,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”

You said nothing, just turned when you were done with your first piece of meat. As you did he leaned in, breaching your personal bubble.

“I would never hurt you,” he said.

“Thanks, Sans,” was your only reply, and he smiled.

“Y… You’re welcome.”

He fed you the next piece of meat, sliding it in farther this time. Your lips closed around it, and… was his breathing picking up?

“You’re… pretty when you eat.”

The hell does that mean? Still, you smiled, albeit awkwardly. “Thanks.”

He got closer to you. Dude did not know how to read the room. You did not like him touching you and stuff. Still, one of his fingers started to twirl itself in your hair, like a fork twirling around in spaghetti to get it to wrap around itself.

Another piece of food. Yep… his breathing was heavier, fanning against your cheek. As if you didn’t feel uncomfortable enough, he leaned close to your ear.

“I like being alone with you.”

You didn’t like where this was going. “That’s nice,” you replied, doing your best to keep your responses curt.

Still oblivious to the fact that you didn’t like what was happening (or did he just not care?) he fed you more. You looked at the plate. There were only two pieces left. Once he was finished he’d probably get up and go. Hopefully.

He kept talking: “You make me think of a deer.”

You looked at him, despite your better judgment. Was… he talking food-wise? Did… did he want to eat you?

“So graceful, and gentle, and shy....”

One of his hands cupped your cheek.

“Like a little doe.”

His teeth a hair’s width away from your ear, he hummed.

“Can I call you that?”

You said nothing, not sure what to—

“My little doe?”

After forcing yourself to swallow your meat, you said, “Your little doe?”

That seemed to excite him. His pupil dilated. “Yes…. You’re my little doe.”

You leaned away, debating on whether to talk back. Sans carried a giant axe with him everywhere. Would he get violent if you protested?

He set the plate of food aside. Shit.

“Sans,” you began, and his pupil dilated more. His breathing got heavy.

“Yes… Say my name….”

Before you could say anything his arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You started to shake. His brother wasn’t here to stop him. How far would he go without supervision? He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t go… that far, right?

Deciding you didn’t want to take your chances, you started to squirm, but it did no good. His grip was like that of a bear trap.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. “I would never hurt you. Never.”

He leaned in closer and you kept struggling. It wasn’t helping but you wanted him to know you were not on board.

Either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care, because his teeth pressed against your lips. He immediately started to pant, his pupil so big his whole eye almost looked black. He just stared at you as his teeth moved against your lips. When his eyes lidded in an expression that looked like he was getting high, you weren’t sure if this was better or worse.

“Mm-mmh,” he murmured, leaning into you more. “Mmh….”

OK, this was it. You were done. You started to push back. “Sans, st—“

“My little doe,” he breathed. “(Y/n)... my little doe….”

“Stop touching me, Sans.”

“I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you.”

He kept saying that like it was going to make you feel better. “I don’t care. I don’t like it when you touch me. I said stop.”

“It’s OK,” he said, although it sounded almost like it was to himself more than you. “It’s OK. You’ll like it soon. Just let me keep going.”

He pressed his teeth to your lips again. You started to worry. Again, he wouldn’t… go all the way, right? You began to realize that if he did, you didn’t have an ounce of the strength needed to stop him. Not to mention that you were chained to the wall. You kept pushing but he didn’t stop. He really seemed to think that if he just kept at it you’d suddenly decide you were fine with it.

“Mmh… Mine…. Just think about me….”

You tried to pull away but it didn’t work. Well, you certainly weren’t paying attention to anything but him, but not in the way he wanted.

“I love you… my doe….”

His teeth moved to your neck. You whimpered, but despite the obvious fear in it he seemed encouraged.

“I’ve been in love with you… since we met…. I’ve wanted this for so long….”

A purr.

“Isn’t that romantic…?”

A tongue you hadn’t known he had ran up your neck, and you swallowed, not sure if he was trying to turn you on or if this was a taste test.

“So good,” he muttered. Oh fuck, it was the latter.

He gave you another taste, moaning.

“I said I would control myself…”

You could see his large eye locked onto you again, wide.

“But I can’t control myself around you. Not now… that I have you all to myself. Not anymore.”

With that he bit down and you yelled. The bite was so hard it drew blood, and his tongue ran over the wound. Another moan escaped him.

He’s going to eat me. He’s going to eat me alive and he’s going to be getting off to it the whole time.

Now concerned for your life, you started to push his face away. “Get off!” you managed.

“It’s OK, my doe… I won’t eat you…. Not you….”

He moved your arms aside like it was nothing and nibbled your ear.

“I love you too much to eat you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I would die.” He leaned in, his red eye staring hard. “See how much I love you? I would die without you. I love you. I love you so much.”

He kissed your cheek, and you grimaced.

“If anyone tried to take you away… I would tear them apart.”

You realized just how much you were trembling. His words didn’t make you feel safe at all.

“Isn’t that so romantic, my little doe? That I’m so devoted? That I would kill for you?”

Getting sick of this, you hissed, “I’m not your little doe. I’m not your anything. Fuck you.”

He flushed blue, his eyes lidding again. “So… feisty….”

He kissed you again, his teeth gently trying to pry your lips apart. When you resisted he bit down, and took advantage of your small cry of pain to slide his tongue into your mouth. He groaned, his eye looking up and his movements slowing as he explored your mouth.

“Nngh….” He sighed, flushing blue and closing his eyes. His tongue found yours and he moaned again. “Mmh…~”

You remembered the large, jagged hole in his skull, and you reached up with one hand and hooked your fingers into it, tugging hard to the side. You weren’t sure if it would hurt but apparently it did, because he released your lips with a hiss of pain. You squirmed to get out of his grip but it wasn’t any looser.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Because I want you to stop!” you yelled.

“But I love you. Can’t you see that?”

“I don’t fucking care! I don’t love you back!”

He didn’t take much notice. “Little doe... we’re all alone. It’s so quiet. It’s just us. Paps is busy and won’t be back for a while.” He leaned in. “This is the romantic moment that I’ve been waiting for. To confess to you. To tell you how I feel.”

He breathed against your lips.

“While Paps is gone, we can do anything. Anything you want. Let me prove how much I love you…. Let me make you moan for me. You don’t even have to love me back, I don’t care, just enjoy what I do to you. Just enjoy the feeling of me deep insi--”

You screamed.

This seemed to finally snap him out of it, because his look grew panicked and he clamped his hand over your mouth. “What the hell are you doing?! Don’t scream! If anyone finds you they’ll kill you!”

You pried his hand away from your mouth. “Stop touching me or I’ll keep screaming until someone finds me and kills me!”

He immediately put you back down, moving away from you. You made a point of wiping your lips and neck of all the unwanted affection, and you glared at him, moving as far away as you could. At least he seemed to want you alive. That was an advantage— perhaps your only advantage— against him.

“If you touch me ever again I’ll scream,” you told him.

He looked hurt, though that meant nothing to you after what he’d just done. He seemed to remember the pieces of meat that were left and, thankfully, slid the plate over to you.

“I understand,” he said, standing up. “You’re not in the mood right now. You’ve had a bad day. That’s OK. That’s OK. It’s OK. We can do this another time, when you’re feeling better. When you’re not upset. You’ll like it then.”

After one last glance at you, he left, muttering “She’ll like it then” to himself over and over. Once he was finally out of sight you curled up into yourself, resisting the urge to vomit. Creep! Sick creep!

All those times he had stared at you or touched your hair… Had he been planning this all that time?

You would tell Papyrus about this when he came back. You had the bite mark as proof.

At least you had Papyrus. But your inner debate was over.

You would rather be dead than here.

[fairestwriting]

title: half doomed and semi-sweet

word count: 5308

summary: Idia's bad luck comes back to haunt him again, being dragged into physically showing up to class and being assigned a group project involving a student from a different year, courtesy of Mr. Trein. His... "best friend", Kero Tricarenia, sees his distress in the situation, and swoops in to save him, though that might be what actually ends him instead of the project...

commissioned by @chibichibisha  , available on ao3 here ! tysm for the commission, i hope you like it! you have no idea how excited i was to write kero asjkdfsf-

my guidelines for commissions are here, in case anyone else is interested !

Of course that in the day Idia is made to actually show up to class, something like this happens.

The fact that it’s Trein’s class just makes it somehow worse. Of course, it’s not all bad, he gets to see Lucius napping on the teacher’s desk—! ...but, he also gets to be pestered by Cater the second he’s walking in, and then the second he’s walking out, plus, just the presence of all these people… Idia shudders just thinking about it.

He pulls his hoodie closer to his face, trying to shield it in vain. He just wanted to go back to his room. Trein was the worst for making him actually show up. He’d been attending classes through the tablet for so long, what was the issue with today specifically? Why couldn’t he just do it the way he always does? He just doesn’t get it—

“Before class is dismissed,” Trein starts in that voice of his, commanding yet with a hint of a drawl that makes Idia want to delve into eternal slumber. “I have an announcement to make. Due to recent events, the headmaster has assigned the teachers the task of building… teamwork, and solidarity, between students, even the ones in different years, and I’ve been chosen to apply that, so your monthly History assignment will work somewhat differently this time.”

Great. Awesome. These were his favorite words in the whole world. As if today couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll need you to gather a pair or trio with students from different years, to build a mockup representing a historical event of your choosing. You’re supposed to inform me of your groups until tomorrow's class, and the deadline will be held two weeks from now, on February 13th. You’ll be presenting your works the day after.”

Idia feels the clammy hands of dread on both his ankles, threatening to pull him under. Of course this would get worse somehow. He exhales a deep sigh, burying his face on his hands… he’d have to email Mr. Trein about doing the assignment by himself later. And it’d be such an unpleasant conversation, with how he insisted on having students follow all these traditional learning methods.

Really, why the hell were they getting group projects now, out of all things? They had one foot out of school, basically. Fourth year barely had any classes, most of the students’ times filled up with internships and research so what did they get out of trying to “develop teamwork skills” within their students? None of these people would be talking to each other by the time they graduate, anyways… they were wasting resources to max out a stat that didn’t matter.

He tugs the hood of his jacket over his face again as he walks out of the classroom, sneaking outside like he’s avoiding to get scolded — The blue glow of his hair insisting on sticking out, Idia feels his heart race and squeeze while he makes his way across the crowded hallways. He swears he hears Cater’s voice calling for him as he leaves, too… but maybe he’s just making it up, because of how especially cursed he feels today.

What an awful morning, really. At least locking himself up with that MMO he’s gotten hooked on recently would feel even more cathartic.

After the nerve-wracking walk, Trein’s words poking at him like imps with their tridents — Him trying to figure out how to convince that teacher to let him do everything by himself, no presentation included, without having to actually face the guy — Idia finally gets back to his dorm. Finally.

He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding — Just like in the fanfics, geez — when he steps into the lounge, though even the mostly vacant blue and white space felt a little oppressive now. Sure, he cared about his dormmates, they were fine people, but they were still people, and what he really needed now, was…

“IDIA!”

...within one second of the click of his door being unlocked, Idia is reminded once again that he never will know peace.

“K-Kero!” He yelps, suddenly overwhelmed by a hug, arms around his entire body squeezing him tight, maybe too tight— It’s a second before he remembers this is in fact supposed to be his room. “W-Wait, what are you doing here? That’s my room!”

Unleashed from the mighty grip, red eyes meet Idia’s as Kero’s head tilts, a smile on his face flashing his sharp teeth.

“I know that! I was looking for you.” He just announces, following right behind with that skip on his step as Idia enters and locks the door behind them. He hadn’t seen Kero in… how long, now? It’d been a while, that much he knew. Idia had been busy lately, with… “You finished that tournament yesterday night, right? How did you do? I got you that cake from the cafeteria you like to celebrate!” His questions are rapid-fire, tail wagging as he rushes towards Idia’s unmade bed to pick up the little packaged treat he’d gotten.

“You don’t even know how it went yet, but you’re already getting your hopes up.” Idia grumbles, but the second the package is placed on his hands, he does gracefully accept it. “Well, my team did win, so…”

“Yes! I knew you would!” Kero cheers, grinning again as he sits on his bed. He’s… so full of energy it’s hard to watch, Idia would say.

But, well, that would kind of be a huge lie.

“Yeah, thanks for leaving me be for a bit so I could practice.” He mutters, moving to sit on his desk chair. The package makes a crinkling plastic noise while he messes with it, opening it to reveal a slice of strawberry shortcake — That has him glancing at Kero for a second, a fuzzy feeling taking over.

...because that’s just what his emotions do now.

It was stupid, Idia’s sighing tiredly just thinking about it — When it started was beyond him, but for some reason or another, something keeps pulling him towards Kero. It’s not exactly a big deal, some sort of soul-binding string of fate or something like that, but even when he’s not there physically, Kero lingers, flashes of sharp teeth and boisterous laughing in Idia’s mind. It’s not a big deal! But it’s like Kero had hanged around him so much he left a mark.

And Idia doesn’t really hate that. He stares at the cake in his hands, and thinks of Kero smiling as he got it for him, without any sort of request, just because he saw the cake and remembered that he liked it, and his mind stresses just how much he doesn’t hate that.

(...well, it was a sort of doomed thing, they would never move on from this strange affectionate friendship, because Idia isn’t going to… tell Kero he’s crushing on him, or anything like that. That’d just screw everything up. And what he has now isn’t actually bad at all. Really, it’s fine if Kero never understands. It’s fine. )

“Are you… good, though? Do you need anything?” Kero asks, snapping him out of the messy daydreams with another good natured tilt of his head — He’s a dog alright. “You… just look kinda gloomy and stuff.”

Idia snickers, shaking his head. “Yeah, like I ever look different.” He mumbles, and takes a bite of cake. It’s sweet, he thinks, making a surprised noise as he wonders when the last time he had it was… he licks some whipped cream off his fingers. “Mm, this time is different though. Something with a group project from Mr. Trein… tires me out just to think about it.” He sighs. But Kero’s ears perk up, pointing straight upwards.

“Oh! That, yeah. He told 2-D about it today too.”

“Yeah. This sucks. I’m just gonna… find a way to work by myself.” Idia shakes his head, sinking on his chair a little further. He bites into the cake again. “You think Mr. Trein knows how to read emails?” He snickers, but the thought of having to meet him face-to-face makes his skin crawl. “...ugh, I d-don’t wanna have to talk to him during office hours…”

Kero hums in slightly concerned acknowledgement, plopping down on his bed with attentive eyes. Idia finds himself in a weird wondering of how it felt like to sit down when you were a beastman. Did it hurt his tail or something? It’s wagging against the mattress, though. His ears point to opposite sides while he looks up vaguely. Idia muses about what he might be thinking about.

“Well, you could always do it with me! They said to get one of your underclassmen, right.” Kero suggests, and… Idia swears he sees his tail wag a little harder, but that could very well just be a trick of the light. “I can do the presentation too, and I’m good with building things, so…” He grins. “Plus, you won’t have to… talk to Mr. Trein.”

Idia hums through a mouthful of cake. Well, doing the project with Kero would certainly be better than with someone he didn’t know. However, it’s…

His eyes linger on Kero’s expectant form on his bed, smiling so cheerfully. He’s very aware of the couple feet of distance between them right now, and even like this, Kero’s presence does things to his heart… that’s bad, so bad, he thinks, it’s hard to ignore how his heartbeat is just a tad faster now, summed with this different flavor of nervousness that just seemed to simmer in his blood now… yeah, it’s no good.

“I m-mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind that.” Is what he stutters out. Kero beams.

Stupid cute Kero. This isn’t helping Idia convince himself none of this is a big deal.

“Yeah! If you’re doin’ a project you might as well do it with your best friend, right?” He says. Here he is again with the best friend talk… oh, if only he knew. “We can have fun with it too. Actually, I can have fun with everything as long as I’m with you, heh.”

Idia feels heat creeping up his neck. Stupid cute Kero! “Ugh, you d-don’t gotta be embarrassing about it.” He mumbles, eyes averted. The cake finished with one last bite, Idia places the empty package on his desk, licking leftover cream off his fingers again. “We’re just putting some annoying mockup together. It’s not a big deal. If we add some simple machines to it to make it cooler it’ll already be higher-res than everyone else’s, it’s just an easy A. Everyone else’s just gonna use magic, I bet.”

“Yeah, obviously. I mean it doesn’t have to be annoying, though.” Kero comments. “We’ve gotta choose a historical event, right? Do you have any ideas?”

“Uhhh. The industrial revolution of the Isle of Lamentation? That’s… pretty much all I paid attention to this year, anyways.” He shrugs. Trein’s classes were boring, naturally. And they were so early in the morning, too… his tablet may have been there most of the time, but Idia himself was passed out on his bed.

“I think that works! We’ll have to make a bunch of stuff for the machines. But that’ll be fun.”

Idia hums. He’s thinking about these machines, actually, the miniature factories they could put together. The blueprints begin to write themselves up rather quickly. “We’d blow their little minds if we just had some… smoke coming out of the chimneys, some gears spinning around. Fuhihi, our mockup might be the best.” With his head in the clouds — Or the laboratory, rather — he finds himself grinning, waving a finger in the air. “Hey, Kero, what do you th… huh?”

And Kero isn’t on his bed anymore. He’s right there, in front of him.

Before Idia can say anything about this (Kero right in front of him, leaning in closer, he feels so cornered, his heart might stop!) Kero leans in even further, a big hand coming up to his face and (He’s going to die, definitely, he’ll die right here.) and he wipes off some whipped cream from near Idia’s lips.

“You had some on your face! Heheh.” He chuckles, licking it off his thumb. Idia feels like his blood pressure has just plummeted, or… or maybe it just did the opposite, how is he supposed to tell? His face feels so hot there’s no way his brain is getting the proper oxygen at all, he can barely think—!

“G-Give me a warning before you do something like this!” Idia wheezes, high pitched like a squeaky toy, and Kero just laughs again, grinning with this hint of mischief. “I didn’t even see you move!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you were distracted? I’m happy you’re excited about the project, though. I think it’s cute.” He says outright, and Idia… Idia just puts his hands on his face, averting his eyes with intent. Why does Kero have to be... so... much? “C’mon, you can sit with me on the bed. We can talk better like this.” A strong hand grabs at his wrist, easily looping around it as he pulls at Idia, making him squeak again as he’s dragged towards the bed.

“This doesn’t even make any sense!” Idia complains, but Kero tugs him towards the bed with no effort at all, and he just accepts his fate, huffing like it’d ease the warmth crawling all over his face. “Ugh, a-anyway, I was talking about the factories we’d put on the mockup… I thought of having some machines with exposed insides, with the spinning gears would be good, and conveyor belts that function…”

As he launches into explanation, Kero nods, making this unbreakable eye contact. Idia has to stop and take a deep breath every couple minutes, the situation somehow overwhelming. It feels like his condition just got a little worse every day, huh.

(Well, it’s fine. He could just avoid him if things got bad. Though… he doesn’t like thinking about this, recalling the week before the game tournament even. It’s kind of stupid, if he’s just making Idia nervous why does he have this need to keep him around? As expected, emotions make little to no sense...)

“...so, basically that’s what I thought.” Idia ends the explanation. Kero still has his attentive look on his face, almost like it froze there. “Did you pay attention?”

“Nah. I was just looking at you while you talked, ‘cause you looked so pretty.” Kero leans in with a smirk (Can he please stop trying to kill Idia, he’s just gotten down to a normal-ish heart rate again!) that then turns into one of his usual friendly smiles. “Kidding! I did, yeah. Do you wanna start it tomorrow?”

“You…! Uh, um, I don’t know. I wanna play my new game.” He stumbles with speaking, but it still comes out. At least. “We could probably finish that in, what, two days at most? If you don’t mind going to the lab late at night.”

“Roger that. For Idia, I’ll go to the ends of Twisted Wonderland!” He declares, fist thumping against his chest with a proud grin. “I’ll get us your snacks too. Can’t have you going hungry. But now I gotta go to track.”

Idia blinks. Already? He remembers that club meetings do in fact exist. He’d been skipping on his lately so he ended up kind of… forgetting them. Seeing Kero go, though, it’s…

“R-Right, I hope you, uh… enjoy yourself.” He stutters. Then he wants to hit himself on the face, really, what kind of stupid farewell was that? Just say bye and go back to your games, idiot. Luckily, Kero doesn’t seem to mind it.

“Yeah, yeah, I will!” He chimes, getting up from the bed — Leaning down a little, he puts a hand over Idia’s flaming hair, ruffling it to his surprise. “I’ll see you, okay? Literally. I’m coming over again later, ‘cause after all this time I’m not leaving my best friend alone!”

Idia feels frozen in place while Kero pets him, eyes zeroed in on that grin — Before he leaves, and he exhales. Again. That breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

He doesn’t play the game yet. Instead, he lays face down on the bed and screams into the pillow, whatever feelings had been simmering while Kero was around just exploding the second he leaves. Great Seven, he was so stupid. Both of them, actually.

Kero was stupid for not seeing how much this crush was clearly consuming him, and Idia… Idia was stupid for getting involved in any of this at all, in so many ways and for so many reasons, but he just can’t bring himself to stop now.

He swears it’s not that big of a deal. But it’s a lie, obviously. Clearly.

. . .

Once he’s back into his room after practice, Kero shuts his door behind him, and he laughs.

He feels the strain on his body from the running, sure, but every bit of it is somehow also filled with so much energy — With his hands on his face like how Idia does when he’s shy, he grins so much his cheeks hurt with the pulling. His heart won’t stop racing.

Who let him be so adorable!

He knew they’d end up doing this project together, of course. When Trein mentioned it’d involve students from different years, Idia was the first person Kero thought of! But the reality still makes him so giddy. To think he’d have a chance to do a project with him! He’s really been too lucky these days. Trein was… something else, to him, but with something like this, he might be willing to overlook the fact that the guy was absolutely terrifying.

Well, what matters is that he gets some more time with Idia — Even better, they’d be alone together! — The tournament week sucked, straight up. Kero ran some errands for him but it just wasn’t the same! Though he didn’t mind this sort of caretaking either, Idia barely took breaks. He didn’t even tell him much about the game he was playing, actually. Kero was basically crawling up the walls with how bored he’d gotten.

But that’s irrelevant now.

Still grinning and laughing to himself with all that burst of energy running through his skin, Kero hops over to his desk — With how he was, Idia would probably have some blueprints for the machines ready soon, but this was a nice chance to impress. He gathers some parts and tools, and gets to work.

...work that takes longer to complete than it usually does for him, but as expected, through the following days, Idia texts him vague guidelines on what their mockup should be like, ideas and half-baked blueprints that they discuss both through the phone and when he shows up at Idia’s place, and when the fated day of getting together at Ignihyde’s laboratory arrives, he has all those trinkets on his desk. He’s so ready.

ill see you there at 2, Idia’s text reads, bring the stuff i told u to make

Yes, yes, right away! Kero smiles bright as he gathers the miniature machines into a shoe box he’d gotten for them. He can feel his tail wag with excitement even as he carries it through the gloomy late-night corridors.

The door opened with a bang — Oops, he definitely handled it too roughly — Kero chimes as soon as he sets foot into the lab. “Idia!” He calls when he arrives. “I’m here!”

“Eek!” Idia, who was already leaned over the table, spreading scratchy blueprints and machine parts on it, is startled in a jolt. “D-Don’t sneak up on me like this! Geez…”

“Heheh, sorry, sorry.” Kero laughs, setting the box near the other items on the table, which Idia eagerly turns to inspect, complaints or not. Well, if that was the case, he’d inspect Idia for a bit too. He was looking unusual today, after all! Without that heavy jacket of his, wearing his lab wear and striped shirt. Kero’s heart leaps. “You’re looking good today, huh! ‘s unusual to see you looking like this, like… one of these R cards from your gacha games, or something.”

Kero feels proud of himself for the comment — Hey, Idia, look at me, I pay attention to your rambling! But Idia makes an offended noise instead.

“T...The R cards are the common ones, stupid.” He scoffs, giving him a narrow eyed look, but there’s still a soft flush of pink over his cheeks. “Ugh, I can’t believe I let you spend time with me when you don’t know that.”

Well. Kero tried, all he can do is laugh about it. At least he didn’t miss the compliment entirely! “Ehh, you do it ‘cause we’re best friends and you love me!” He says. “C’mon, we should get started on this already.”

“...y-yeah, yeah, whatever.” Idia shakes his head, but when he turns his face towards the table to look at their work in progress, there’s a slight smile on his blue lips that Kero couldn’t possibly miss. “Did you make the conveyor belts? I think I forgot to send you anything on these, couldn’t decide what material would be better for them…”

Moments like these are just so… so everything. Kero can’t find the words to describe how happy he is to be around Idia and be able to say things like that! Though, he feels it’s not exactly enough… even if all of this does feel nice, and he’s grateful for it.

(Well, he has a crush on Idia, that much he knows, so he guesses that’s something to be expected, in a way? He’s heard his classmates talking about the being unable to get enough related to someone so it was just part of it, probably. What they have now is good, straight out of his dreams even! Just… feelings are weird, aren’t they? He keeps wanting more, though he doesn’t know exactly what would sate this hunger.)

“Oh, I did rubber on the top and some of that light metal for the parts. I thought it’d be better if we don’t make it too heavy!” Kero replies, digging around for his own lab gear he’d brought. They might have to do some welding today, so it was always good to be careful.

(Plus, they got to match outftits!)

Idia nods, focused gaze on a miniature engine. “Ohh… huh. That’s good, actually. I think this might be easier than I thought.” He mutters. “We have all the parts to build the interior of the factory… I guess we could put that together tonight, and tomorrow we can get the rest? For the outside, I guess. If we just focus on the factory instead of the, uh, social repercussions or something like that, Trein might deduct points.”

He feels his ears deflate just a little at the teacher’s mention. “Tell me about it.” Idia passes him the engine, a silent command for him to get to work linking it with the other right parts. “Do you want me to get the stuff for the scenery from the store?”

“Yeah, sure. Would be helpful.”

Kero smiles at him, and for a single silent moment they’re putting the machine parts together. Engines and gears and a seemingly endless stretch of conveyor belts, wires and such hidden on the inferior part of the styrofoam slab the mockup was being built on.

“...hey, is that the battery?”

“Yup! Just gotta charge with magic whenever you wanna see it working.”

Idia turns it around on his hands, looking at it from every angle, making a humming noise to himself…

Huh, Kero is suddenly very aware that they’re all alone in that laboratory.

Maybe it’s because of how Idia looks at the small object, or how he touches it with this utmost care one wouldn’t think he has. It’s weirdly easy for other people to assume Idia was lazy, Kero recalls, and it was something he never really understood. He was such a diligent person, actually, but people couldn’t see it right because he didn’t put effort into things people commonly worked hard in. That makes him feel sort of bitter inside, he thinks, but also proud in a way.

He’s the only one who knows Idia this closely, it comes into Kero’s mind, and a smile sprawls across his face.

“...w-what? Why are you looking at me like that?” Of course, Idia notices. The pinkish glow on his face before turns into something more like strawberry red, and… agh, what the hell, Kero’s smile gets bigger.

“It’s ‘cause you’re so cute, of course!” He says without missing a beat. How many times has he called Idia cute now? Far too many to count. But he can’t stop, and it never feels like enough to show just how god damn adorable Idia was to him. It was such a crazy feeling, really.

“Gh… and you’re e-embarrassing, as always.” Idia responds as he averts his eyes. “We’ve gotta finish this as soon as possible, y’know, now’s not the time for...t-this.”

“What do you mean with this?” Kero asks amidst a laugh. Idia looks at him with this cranky sort of expression and his heart feels like it’s about to take off and fly, wow. “You asked me a question and I answered it!”

“Yeah, you answered it while being a jerk.” Idia mumbles, getting back to unscrewing something. Kero doesn’t get what he mean with it exactly but, well, he always says stuff like this.

“I mean it, though! I think you’re really cute.” He says, it’s so easy to say things like that, they end up just coming out on their own, even when he’s trying to put his brain cells back into work like Idia wants him to. “I tell you that all the time! D’you not think you’re cute?”

Idia glances at him with wide eyes. “I...n-no? What in the Lord of the Underworld makes you think I’m c-cute?” He asks, voice almost an octave higher.

Something about this strucks Kero differently. Is that a rhetorical question? It doesn’t matter. He wants to answer.

“Well, do you want me to tell you?” He suggests, and his heart is racing. It takes just a little bit of effort to ask something like this, it’s not quite having to hype himself up for it, but… well. What’s with this mood anyways? Idia’s hands are on his flushed cheeks, gloved fingers ready to cover up his eyes, like he usually does when he’s flustered — And here’s something to add to the list already, wow.

“I-I, um.”

“If you don’t say no I’m gonna tell you.” He looks straight into Idia’s eyes… such a nice shade of yellow, an amber-gold. Kero doesn’t always mean to tease, but now he does. He has a strong impulse to do it, a determination like he’s rushing towards the finish line in track — What sort of face would Idia show him if he told him everything? “Three, two, one…you lost your chance to say no! I’m gonna tell you.”

Idia squeaks like he got jumpscared, but he doesn’t object to any of it. Kero’s excited — He takes a step closer, and takes it upon himself to touch Idia’s hair again, because he absolutely couldn’t get enough of how it didn’t burn him.

“First of all, I know you hate it since it sticks out so much, but your hair is really cute.” He says, tucking a lock of hair behind Idia’s ear, feeling him shrink and tense under the light touch — Would he do that if Kero touched him more? If he wrapped his arms around Idia’s waist and held him close? “It’s so bright and pretty, and the bangs look so nice on you, they’re kinda messy and long but in a way that’s adorable.”

Indulging himself a little further, he lets his hand ghost over Idia’s bangs, brushing them to the side and watching them fall back into place. Idia’s face is fully red now. The hair doesn’t feel like much to the touch since it’s fire, actually, but, something about it…

“Second! You have a cute smile!” Kero chimes. He’s supposed to retract his hand now, but — It just stays on Idia’s cheek. And he finds that he really doesn’t want to take it off there. “When you talk about the things you like, and you get all excited about them and start grinning… it’s really cute, actually. I like it when I see you all full of energy.”

Idia’s eyes dart around. Are his hands shaking? Kero eyes at them briefly, before taking one into his — Unable to stop himself again — and the latex of his glove meets Idia’s, watched by wide amber eyes as he laces their fingers together. Shaking, indeed, but he was able to steady them.

“Third… related to that, how your hands move when you’re rambling. I stare at them a lot. That’s how much I love to see you all excited about stuff.”

His voice had fallen softer. The coldness of the laboratory seems to just fade. Kero’s heart feels…

“Fourth...” He starts, but no words come to him. He just stares at Idia’s face, his eyes, the blue tint of his lips. There’s more to say, obviously, but he can’t think of it, and he— “...can I kiss you?”

Somehow there’s no recoil time, no surprised noise on Idia’s part, and though he loves his shyness and how it shows through, he finds that he loves it even more when he’s expecting something like this, when he wants it. The shaky, uncertain nod is all he needs to give a name to that hunger he’d been feeling.

Ah, he was in love, everything be damned.

Kero doesn’t hesitate. One hand on his cheek and the other holding his, his lips meet Idia’s, his heart now soaring completely. If he looked back on it now he’d probably find it sort of awkward, Idia’s lips are chapped and the sharp teeth felt strange against each other, but none of this matters when he feels so euphoric, when Idia just melts into his kiss, eyes fluttering shut.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts. The brief pauses to breathe aren’t enough to actually do so, but neither of them seem to mind. The held hands unlace, Idia’s coming up to Kero’s neck to urge him closer, Kero’s on Idia’s waist like he’s dreamed.

When they pull away, both breathless, Kero is grinning, and Idia looks dazed, his eyes glossy, at least for a moment before he seems to realize what they’ve just done.

“O-Oh my...we.” He squeaks, freezing in Kero’s embrace. “W-We, we just…”

“Hey, it’s cool!” Kero assures, and he pulls him a bit closer, now causing a small shriek. “I love you, you know.”

“Y-You…” Idia stutters. How long would it be until he was able to string sentences together again? Kero doesn’t have an exact estimate, but, well, this was fine too. Especially as his tension drops, and he hides his warm face on Kero’s shoulder. “...you’re the worst? You’re so embarrassing I could die.”

“That’s a quick recovery, huh.”

“S-Shut up!” Idia whines, but he stays. He stays, and Kero holds him so close that his happiness feels like it’s overflowing, and the cravings from before are just slowly satisfied. “I… I, um.”

“Tell me.” A hand on the side of Idia’s face, he pulls his face upwards, making him look into his eyes again — Would he ever get enough of this, though? They’re so close. “Do you love me too, Idia?”

Idia hesitates, an embarrassed noise leaving him.

“I… I do.” He mutters — And he smiles. “You idiot.”

Kero smiles, his feelings actually overflowing in how he hugs Idia even tighter, and he laughs.

The project could be finished tomorrow, anyways.

[ofmythsandmadness]

midnight | b.h

 FROM MY PROMPT LIST: #6. ‘just five more minutes.’  WARNINGS: probably nothing.  NOTES: gender neutral. ben’s alive here. it’s an au, not sparrow academy ben bc i don’t know if this would work for his character. also, this is messy. i’m trying to force myself to write so i can work on proper pieces, and this drabble’s what i came up with. kinda hate it. rolling anyways.

There was something so exhilarating about life, when the rest of the world wasn’t around to witness you living it.

It’s why you live almost entirely nocturnally. Maybe it’s why Ben does the same -- that, or he’s so head over heels with you that he would sacrifice a thousand good nights to be by your side. You embrace the cold wind blowing in your hair and sending shivers down your spine, regardless of how many layers pressed tight to your skin. It’s a relief; a moment to breathe, after a long day of suffocation and bare survival.

“This is nice.”

“Mm.” Your arm presses against his. In the dark, his black hoodie is barely visible; only the slightest form of fabric can be seen as it wrinkles against your own florescent clothing. “It is.”

“When do you want to go back?”

You laugh a little, leaning closer. “How about never? That work?”

“Yeah, sure. We can become forest beings-”

“-forest beings?!” You glare up at him. “You mean we’d be fairies.”

“Or like, nymphs, or some sort of guardian of the woods, or-”

“-give me fairies or give me death, Bentacles.”

He tries to scowl, but it fails miserably; his lips only remain downturned for half a second before he’s stifling the softest giggles behind his hand. You smile, too. It’s hard not to when it’s him -- Ben Hargreeves’ smile is a plague, and you’re defenseless against it. Might as well give in before it gets bad.

“We should go back soon.”

“Mm...” you mumble, trying to ignore his suggestion. Your body presses even nearer, chin tilted up so you could see every halflit detail of the man beside you. “You’re pretty, you know that? You’d be an awfully pretty fairy.”

The darkness hides his flush, but it can’t hide the way his eyes dart away, eager to escape the trap laid in front of him. Damn tension nearly gets him; he has to concentrate on the ground below him and try not to consider how big your eyes look in the moonlight.

“We can’t become fairies tonight. We’ve got work in the morning.”

You emit a gentle groan. Your chin hits his shoulder. “Five more minutes, Bentacles?”

“You’re going to-”

-he stops short as your fingers find his. In the darkness they look like phantom limbs creeping towards his own - but it’s almost comforting, watching your hands interlace with nothing but midnight shadows to cradle them. You tug a little and pull his hands to sit under your chin.

“Please?” You ask again, lips pouting and eyes as wide as they could get. You slide your chin from the interlaced hands and dip to press the softest of kisses to his knuckles. 

He shivers at the touch; you smile, doing it again.

“Just five more minutes, Ben?”

You look back up to him, only to find him leaning closer than before, turning to face you with a serious expression.

“What is it?” You pull your hands from his, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Was that - I didn’t mean to over-”

“-you can’t do that,” he says, and his voice is a far cry from what it was mere moments before. It’s low and a little hoarse. His hands fall down to your lap, curling and uncurling as he considers his next words, “you’re gonna make me want to kiss you.”

“Wh - oh.”

He barely nods, his expression a little sadder then.

“Well...what if I want you to kiss me?”

Ben’s eyes dart up to catch yours, still imploring and wide. The moonlight drips like honey around the both of you, drenching you in its cold white rays; but the air around you both is suddenly warmer than it should ever be on a January night.

“What?”

You don’t answer him then. Not with words, anyways. But your legs scrabble, pushing you further down the wall and closer to him and you catch his hands again, tugging them to your chest. The wild beating of your heart thuds against your intertwined fingers. You smile, leaning up and into his face, nose just barely nudging against his.

“Y/N...” his voice comes out a strained whisper as he subconsciously leans in too, pulling you in. He pulls a hand away and lifts it to you cradle your jaw. His thumb swipes against the cold skin delicately, tentatively like he’s wondering if you’ll disappear right in his hold. “Are you sure?”

You don’t give me anything more than a wider smile before closing your eyes and pushing into his lips. His hand tightens around your jaw and you’re both pressing as close as you can, desperate for more and more touch from the other person -- more than you can even physically offer. You’re smiling into the kiss like two lovesick teens behind the bleachers, and your teeth clash once or twice, but you just laugh and lean in again.

“Maybe we can stay out a little longer,” Ben huffs, pulling away to press his forehead against yours. “A couple minutes. Yeah?”

You grin, hands coming in around his shoulders. You dare another quick peck, eyes flashing more mischief than he’d expect. Somehow, it’s even more alluring than before, and he’s eager to pull you in again. 

“Maybe a little longer...”

NOTES: that gif really has no place here but I’m using it anyways bc there’s so few ben gifs. and most of them are sad and i don’t want that vibe attached, so.

I have no idea how to end this drabble. I like -- this is so messy. My mind is just ‘???’ trying to write anything more. But here it is nonetheless and I’ll leave it before it gets too long and whack. I miss Ben and writing for him. I have so much Ben content, really -- I just don’t know how to write and I’ve been struggling with even any cent of creativity. So here we are.

I haven’t been writing stuff this pg in a while (in wips i mean) but I’m trying to get better at writing the build up because I find my mind is just like, blank when it comes to leading up. Bro, I live for sexual or romantic tension, and yet I can never imitate that in my own works.

As always, if you liked this, feel free to like/reblog/do all that stuff. It means a lot. And if you feel generous, my kofi is in my bio. :)

[mshomestyle]

Request: Gang Orca x Reader:

Anonymous asked: Oh um... Is nsfw okay?? Because I've read so many sfw fics and the nsfw department for Gang Orca is seriously lacking. Breeding kink if you're comfortable writing that. That kink kinda came out of nowhere lol. I guess you just gotta read the right fic to make your mind change on something haha. If you're not comfortable with nsfw, then some happy dad stuff for Orca? Haven't seen any dad stuff for him yet

Thank you so much!! I'm super excited for the request to be finished! I know its going to be so great 😄 do you think you might be able to combine the breeding kink and dad stuff somehow? Like trying for another baby or something?? 2 birds 1 stone y'know? Either way, I'm so pumped to read what you come up with 😆😆

Warnings: Sex, breeding kink

[Mature Content under the break]

It was always nice to see your husband with your cute little toddler. He was currently reading him a story as the tiny one and a half year old was snuggled up nice in his crib. You son was holding onto his stuffed animal with a tight grip as he tried his hardest to fight off sleep.

“The end,” Kugo, or widely known as his hero name, Gang Orca, finished up the story. “It’s time for bed.” Your little toddler shook his head.

“Pway...,” he said. You couldn’t help but to giggle from your current position of leaning against the door frame.

“You need to sleep,” Kugo gently told your son. He rubbed his head before giving it a kiss, “You look like you are about to anyway.”

“I not daddy...” But contrary to his words, your son let out a yawn before cuddling closer to his stuffed animal, “Not gonna...sleep...” Before you knew it, your son had his eyes closed, and his soft breathing could be heard. Your husband chuckled softly before standing up and closing the story book he used. You watched as he put the book in your son’s bookcase before leaving the room.

You quietly closed the room door, before following after him to your own room. “He sure likes to try to stay up,” you pointed out, “Hard to believe that we want another one.” Once in the room, you closed the door after yourself. Your husband turned to you, smiling in amusement.

“You can really never have too many~,” he spoke, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. You felt your cheeks getting warm as you knew what was about to happen. You and your husband had been trying for another child for a few days now, so any chance you got to have sex, you usually took it. You could already feel Kugo’s hands sliding up and down your body.

“Well, they are really cute,” you admitted, before leaning up and kissing your husband lovingly. You pulled away with a smirk, “Are you ready to knock me up again?”

“Trust me, I will definitely fill you up to the brim~.” That you knew to be true as your husband usually filled you up and then some with his come. Not wanting to waste any time, Kugo picked you up before bringing you to the bed. Expertly, he removed your clothing before making quick work of his own.

You stared at his body lustfully, and the second he joined you on the bed, you pulled him down and on top of you. You couldn’t wait to be pregnant again for him, so you certainly were going to make this time count.

Kugo kissed at your neck lovingly as one of his hands slid down your body and to your clit. He rubbed at it with his thumb, effectively getting moans and purrs to leave your mouth. He was always able to get you so wet so easily, and soon enough you knew he’d have you begging for more.

As two of Kugo’s fingers slipped inside of you, moving in and out to prepare you to take him fully, you felt yourself becoming more and more antsy. “Mm, Kugo~,” you purred out his name, “Come on, I need you~.”

“My, you’re very impatient,” he chuckled, fingers started to jam themselves against this one spot that was about to make your eyes roll to the back of your head, “Are you ready to take me?”

“Yes, please!” you begged him, hips started to move against his thrusting fingers in need.

“Alright, then, as you wish~.” Once Kugo pulled his fingers from you, you let out an involuntary whine. Sure, you knew that better things were to come, but that didn’t mean the loss of pleasure was welcome. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smirking a bit, “Come on, you need to get me pregnant~.” Kugo not in approval before grabbing onto your hips. Then, giving you exactly what you wanted, he slipped his hard cock inside of you. Since you had already received some immense pleasure during the foreplay, you definitely saw a few stars at his entrance.

Holding onto your hips with both hands now, Kugo started to thrust in and out of you at an even pace, delighting in the pleasure-filled expression you had and the loud moans you gave out. He loved to see you underneath him like this. “Mm, I’m gonna fill you up so much you’ll probably have twins.” He gave a hard thrust, which caused you grab onto him tightly, mind starting to turn into mush from this intense pleasure.

“Oh, please fill me up!” you nearly begged, “I want your come so deep inside of me.” Your legs were starting to shake at the intense pleasure, and you knew that you were almost near your end. Kugo wasn’t letting up one bit either. In fact, he was going much harder and deeper than before. With the way he was fucking you, you knew that in no time you would be carrying his baby again.

“That’s it,” Kugo groaned out once you started to squeeze around his length, “I know you’re about to come~.” And he was right as with a few more thrusts, you found yourself calling out his name. Your inner walls started to throb and milk at his cock, and in no time Kugo let out a deep groan before spilling his seed deep inside of you, the muscles inside of you pulling it in much deeper as you continued to pulsate.

Finally, you both started to come down from your highs. You were panting hard, and Kugo slowly but surely pulled out of you. He leaned down and kissed your lips, hand going to your stomach to gently rub at it. “I hope you aren’t too tired,” he said, “Because that was just the first round. We have to get your pregnant, after all.” Even though you felt pretty spent at this moment, you couldn’t help but to smile, nodding in agreement.

“Oh, of course~.”

[hermannsthumb]

Would you please be willing to write 54 from the winter prompt list? About having a rough day?

54. we don’t really know each other but you look like you’re having a rough day so i got you my favourite hot drink from the cafe

from winter writing prompts here

sometimes it’s fun to write things where they were never penpals and they’re just kind of bastards to each other. this is a WELL needed break from working on finals and zine stuff

-------------------

Newt’s not really sure what he did to be stuck with this utter bastard of a lab partner—what sort of, like, karmic punishment he’s facing, and for what, or who high in command he pissed off in his job interview—but in terms of utter bastards, Hermann Gottlieb pretty much takes the cake. He snaps at Newt over everything. He tears down Newt’s theories in front of their superiors whenever he gets the chance. The dude even took a fucking roll of tape and divided the lab in half just so he wouldn’t have to look at Newt’s face—totally nuts behavior. Like, right? Who does that? He’s not even sure why they have to share a lab in the first place. It’s not like Hermann’s jumping at the chance to stick his arms in a kaiju chest cavity with Newt, or Newt can make head or tails of Hermann’s bizarre equation chains. Half of him is convinced they’re all just bullshit, anyway. But whatever.

At least Hermann’s being significantly less of a bastard today. Newt hasn’t heard one peep out of him—not even when Newt started playing music without his headphones, or knocked a whole chunk of kaiju intestine over onto the floor and it rolled (with a series of admittedly nasty splats) an inch across the dreaded tape line. He’s just been standing, motionless, at his chalkboard. All day. Not even writing anything. Occasionally, Newt’s heard him sigh.

It’s a drastic departure from the routine Newt’s used to. Newt doesn’t care about Hermann—he really doesn’t—but if he did, he might be…a little worried about the guy.

Hermann sighs again. This time, he wipes a hand down his face.

Oh, good grief.

Newt pulls off his work gloves with two snaps, switches his headlamp off, and clears his throat. “Hey, uh,” he says, timidly, and cringes at himself even as he does. Newt would say his odds are 50-50 that Hermann’s just gonna yell at him to mind his own business and get back to work. “Gottlieb? Hermann?”

Hermann turns from his chalkboard with a low “Mm?”

He has dark circles under his eyes; his collar, Newt notices, is tucked into his shirt, and one shirttail hangs out from his sweatervest, like he was distracted when he got dressed this morning. It’s the most disheveled Newt has ever seen him. Instantly, he feels a strange surge of pity for his weird, prickly lab partner. “You all good over there, dude?” Newt says.

“Yes,” Hermann says.

Then he sighs, and sits down heavily on the metal stool he keeps next to his ladder. It looks like the most uncomfortable thing in the world. “Frankly, no, Dr. Geiszler,” he says. “I’ve not had—the best of days.”

“Oh,” Newt says. He scuffs his boot against the floor. “…Do you want to, like…talk about it or something?”

Hermann works his weird, angular jaw furiously. For a second time, Newt’s sure the rebuke is coming—the stay out of my private affairs, Dr. Geiszler, an invitation for Newt to fire back at him with a nasty jab of his own, and then they can both be on their merry way like it never happened—but none does. “I am sure you have noticed I am not making as much headway in the updated jaeger coding as I would’ve liked,” Hermann says.

Newt didn’t notice. He doesn’t make a habit of paying attention to Hermann if he can help it. “Uh, sure,” he says.

“To put it lightly,” Hermann says, “I am stumped. And on top of this, my father—well.” He rubs his hands over his face again and doesn’t elaborate.

The amount Newt knows about Hermann can be counted on one hand. He knows that Hermann was like him—a child prodigy. He knows that Hermann cuts his own hair, because there’s no way something that bad could’ve been paid for, and Newt found dark brown hair clippings in the k-sci bathroom sink the same day Hermann’s bowlcut looked just a bit more severe than usual. He knows Hermann walks with a cane, but he doesn’t know why. He knows Hermann’s father founded the jaeger program, stuck his son at the head of it, and then suddenly and inexplicably publicly called for defunding it in favor of allocating resources to some stupid coastal wall instead. Newt can’t even imagine the pressure Hermann’s dad is putting him under to follow in his footsteps. Or how much harder it is for Hermann to complete even menial work tasks with that weighing over him. “Dude,” he says, sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

Hermann snorts.

“No, really,” Newt says, and he’s surprised to find he means it. Hermann is a bastard, but Newt kinda thinks he’s growing on him like…well, like a frumpy, bitchy old tumor. Or something like that. “I am. That really sucks. Can I help you with anything?”

“Not unless you can write this damn code for me,” Hermann says, scowling and banging the end of his cane against his chalkboard viciously. “Oh, never mind. I’m going to get a tea from the commissary before I tear my bloody hair out.”

He makes to stand, but Newt shakes his head, and says quickly, “No, dude, let me! Just stay here and chill. I was going to run out for a sandwich anyway.”

It’s a misstep, maybe—Hermann’s scowl darkens. But Newt presses on anyway. “Seriously, I’ll get it. I want to help you. Do you want a sandwich or anything too? Or noodles? I think the mess is serving noodles today. Or I could run out to get you takeout, whatever you want.”

“Newton,” Hermann says. Not Dr. Geiszler. Newt’s heart skips a beat for reasons he doesn’t quite understand. “I don’t want a sandwich or anything like that. I just want some tea.” His jaw moves back and forth again. “But—if you are so inclined to fetch it for me—I would…appreciate the gesture. I take it with milk and two sugars. Just a tea. That is all.”

“Okay!” Newt says, grinning goofily, and jogs from the lab.

He slams a bio-degradable cardboard coffee cup and a small box of pastries down onto Hermann’s desk thirty minutes later. Hermann, who was poring over a bewildering jumble of code on his computer screen, startles so badly his glasses slip off the end of his nose and bounce against his chest. He crooks his eyebrow at the cup and pastries. “Those are not from the commissary,” he says.

“They’re not,” Newt says. “Come on, the comm stuff is crap, you know they water everything down. There’s a café I go to just off base and they’ve actually got the good stuff.” It costs him a fucking fortune these days with rationing, especially on the tiny salary the PPDC is able to scrape together for him, but Newt firmly believes it’s worth it. Spending that much on Hermann is worth it too, he thinks, if it means Hermann can go back to their usual sparring faster. Sad, mopey Hermann unsettles Newt. He slides Hermann’s drink closer to him. “Come on, come onnn, try some.”

Hermann sniffs it suspiciously. He pries off the plastic lid, revealing a mountain of whipped cream and chocolate drizzle beneath. “This does not look like tea, either,” he says, and stares at Newt—unimpressed—over his glasses.

“It’s not,” Newt says. “It’s called the Geiszler—it’s my custom order at the shop. Well, I call it the Geiszler, anyway. I think they just call it ‘that one fucking guy is back again’.” Hermann cracks the world’s smallest smile, and Newt feels like he’s just scaled Mount Everest. He also feels like his stomach might twist itself up in knots, because it’s kinda a cute smile. Is that weird to think about Hermann like that? It’s totally weird. Whatever. “Go on, try it, for real. I promise it’s good.”

Hermann delicately snaps the lid back on and takes a long sip; he swallows, and hums thoughtfully. Newt has never cared about Hermann’s opinion this much before. “Well, it’s not tea,” Hermann finally says, “but I will admit it could be worse. Thank you.” He gives Newt another funny little sour smile—like it can’t decide if it wants to be a frown or not. “And thank you for the pastries, as well. Though I don’t know how on earth I’m meant to finish them all.”

“Dude, they’re totally not all for you,” Newt laughs. He digs one out of the box, takes a bite, and waves it at Hermann. Crumbs rain down on Hermann’s desk. “As if. We’re sharing.”

Hermann wrinkles his nose and sweeps off a layer of crumbs from some paperwork. “Hm,” he says. “Please do refrain from eating over my work station, Newton. I know you are far laxer with your sanitary habits, but…”

There it is again—Newton. Not Dr. Geiszler, and not Newt. No one’s called Newt Newton in years. It’s for the Newton that Newt forgoes the fight and just backs off with his pastry and a smile. “Sorry,” he says. “You’re right, that was rude of me. Enjoy the coffee.”

They’re back at each other’s throats in a day, but Hermann doesn’t stop calling him Newton, so Newt figures that’s gotta mean something.

[sebthesnipe]

Morality, Magic, and Chocolate Cows

Hi @logicalyfun!!

Storytime! I wasn’t apart of the @sanderssidesgiftxchange at all. So, the fact that you got me as a pinch hitter is kinda a miracle in its own right ;3 But I’m super glad you did! I’m so sorry you didn’t get your gift on time but now you get to chill with me! And I can be pretty awesome sometimes… Occasionally… Rarely but hey! Who keeps track of that kind of stuff anyways? 

So, how did I become your pinch hitter? Well, you see. I’ve got this amazing best friend and beta reader @gilby-the-geek-girl. She actually /did/ participate in the exchange and because she’s just so amazing she offered to be a pinch hitter for it as well. 

Anyways, You’re prompt got sent to her. This one right here:

“Your giftee: Fabi

Tumblr: Logicalyfun

Media to receive: Fan fiction, Fan art

Wish 1: Puppiesss

Wish 2:  Fantasy world

Wish 3:  Starry sky night

Topics to avoid: Remrom, no NSFW”

And it gave her pause. You see, I wrote this awesome fic called My Dearest Procyon (also on AO3) that checks almost all of these boxes (minus the puppiesss, but there is a REALLY awesome cat and dragons too!). So, she thought we’d be perfect for each other! So she sent your prompt to me and here we are!

Now for the bad news… I had every intention of checking off every one of your wishes, but the story got away from me and I’m pretty sure I struck out. However, I really think you’ll like it! Please forgive me for not sticking strictly with the prompts but I do mention each, and I highly recommend MDP if you really like those things.

I’ll also make you a deal! If you don’t like this ficlet, let me know and I’ll write you a new one that adheres to your prompts exactly! ;3

(Also... posting this on Patton’s B-day so it’s like double meant to be!)

So, without further adieu, I present Morality, Magic, and Chocolate Cows:

“Have at you!” Roman cried, his tiny form bounding off the small hill to swing at his brother, his cardboard sword bending at an odd angle.

“Actually,” Logan commented, hurrying along behind him, flowing blue cape flapping in the wind. “It would’ve been ‘ye’.”

Roman  ignored him, adjusting the oversized ‘shining armor’ every time he took a step. The costume was far too large for Roman’s three foot, seven-and-a-half-inch tall body, though it was adorable to watch.

Remus, to his credit, laughed menacingly, the Sharpie mustache on his upper lip thinning from the effort as he parried his brother’s flopping cardboard blade with a small stick. His own costume consisted of a sheet, stained green, with what Patton hoped was paint (though he had never bothered to ask), wrapped around him like a toga.

“That's totally fair! Two against one!” Janus called from the safety of a tree branch; the yellow fabric of his shirt just visible through the leaves.

“I’m not fighting! I’m observing!” Logan called in his high-pitched voice, adjusting his glasses before the pointed wizard’s hat on his brow dipped forward, knocking them astray once more. His adorably pudgy form was wrapped in a shimmer fabric that reminded Patton of the stars Logan always seemed to want to tell him about.

“If you and V would help, your prince wouldn’t need an watcher-outer!” Roman whined, pausing in his attack to peer over at the older child and his companion, sitting in the shade below.

Remus took the opportunity to smack his twin across his butt with his stick, knocking Roman to the ground with a grunt.

A shrill cry filled the air, causing the other children to glance at Patton, who had been sitting on a blanket a few feet away.

Patton pushed to his feet, smiling softly as he approached the three boys, Janus and Virgil hurrying up to the crying child as well.

“It’s broken isn’t it!” Virgil rushed, his own tears threatening to fall. “Remus broke Roman’s leg! We’re all going to the hosp’al! I don’t want to go to the hosp’al! I don’t like doc’ors!” His words turned into a wail as he plopped on the grown next to Roman, waterworks in full force.

Patton examined the small scratch peaking through a tear in Roman’s jeans.

“Hm,” he sighed as if considering whether or not the wound was fatal. “We may have to amputate.”

“What?!” Remus gasped excitedly.

Janus moved over to Logan, attempting to whisper in his ear and failing. “What does ‘amputate’ mean?”

“Ample ate,” Logan attempted to repeat. “It means to eat a lot.”

“We’re going to eat him!” Remus gasped with a grin.

Patton couldn’t help but give a small chuckle at the exchange before sinking down on the lush grass and scooping Roman into his arms.

The pretend prince curled into the embrace, hiding his face in Patton’s chest as his wailing turned to sniffle.

“I don’t wanna be eaten,” he grumbled sullenly.

Patton felt Virgil curling into his side, tears soaking into his shirt. Patton glanced down, offering another small smile as he pulled him close as well.

“No one is getting eaten,” Patton chuckled softly. “Are they Remus?”

“Pft, no fair!” the mustached boy pouted, folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at his mismatched shoes.

“Why don’t we all come up with ways to make Roman’s boo-boo feel better?” Patton offered, motioning for everyone to move closer.

“I rather not,” Janus sighed softly. Still, the young boy scooted closer and sank down on the grass next to them.

Remus gave another ‘hmph’ before doing the same, though he made sure to sit far closer to Janus than anyone else.

“I can help!” Logan chirped excitedly, digging into his pockets with purpose.

Patton couldn’t help but allow his soft smile to turn even more fond. Logan was always the best helper.

Whatever Logan had in mind, it certainly got Roman’s attention. The sandy blond boy turned his head just enough that his cheek rested against Patton’s chest, eyes glued to the wizard.

A moment later, Logan produced a plastic wand. The pink shaft was a little too large for his tiny hands and the star at its end seemed to flash with tiny lights (no doubt running off of a few double A’s).

“I can cast a spell on him!” Logan offered confidently.

“But yes’rday you said magi’ wasn’t real,” Virgil whispered, still clinging to Patton’s shirt.

“Turn him into a frog!” Remus demanded eagerly; his pouting forgotten.

“Yeah, but I read it in one of my books today, so it has to be real! Right, Patton?” Logan asked, looking up at him expectantly, the others following his lead.

“Oh of course!” Patton reassured with a large grin. “Magic is very real.”

“It is?” Janus asked, suddenly invested in the conversation.

Virgil reacted in a very different manner, burying his face deeper into Patton’s side and giving a small cry. “Magi’ is scary! I dun wanna be turned into a frowg!”

“Oh sweetie,” Patton cooed, messing with the youngest child’s hair. “It’s not that type of magic,” he reassured.

“What other type of magic is there?!” Remus demanded, inching closer as he bounced with elation. “The type that can turn him into a giant squid?! Or make toilets talk?!”

“Ew!” Roman whined in response, once again earning a chuckle from Patton.

“I’m afraid not,” Patton admitted with no little amusement. “No, this kind of magic isn’t just reserved for very smart wizards.”

“It’s not?” Logan asked, moving closer and sinking down as well.

“Oh no. We all have magic of our very own that we can use whenever we want.”

“Nuh uh…” Janus breathed though he didn’t sound too convinced.

Patton nodded continuing. “Sure, we do.”

“What’s my power?!” Remus asked impatiently, “Can I make lasers come out my eyes?! Or maybe… maybe… um… summon a giant octopuspus to devour my enemies?!” He bounced to his feet roaring loudly as he stomped about.

“Your magic is something far greater,” Patton laughed.

“No way!” Remus breathed in awe; antics forgotten.

“Him?!” Roman gasped in disbelief.

Patton nodded. “Remus has the ability to see into other worlds!”

“Lame!” The boy in question huffed, falling back onto the grass.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked curiously.

“Well, Remus makes such a great villain because he sees things differently then we do,” Patton explained.

“So, he’s evil! I knew it!” Roman declared, shifting in Patton’s arms to simply sit in his lap, wound forgotten.

“Not at all,” Patton countered, acting as if he didn’t see the way Remus blew a raspberry at his brother. “Just because someone is different doesn’t make them evil.Though it can be scary, differences are what gives us our power. Take Logan for example.”

“Me?” Logan blinked in surprise, clinging to his wand a bit more self-consciously.

“Mm hmm,” Patton nodded. “Logan understands Remus better than anyone. He can understand how Remus sees the world.”

“So, he’s evil too?” Janus asked.

“I am not!” Logan cried.

“No one here is evil,” Patton laughed. “No, Logan’s magic power is that he can understand anything if given enough time.”

“So, you can figure out where chocolate milk comes from?!” Roman asked, pointedly staring at Logan who now sat a bit straighter.

“Well, if regular milk comes from a regular cow… and Patton says cows are just like oversized dogs… and there are a lot of different kinds of dogs… Then chocolate milk has to come from chocolate cows.” Logan explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Whoa! There are chocolate cows?! That’s so cool!” Roman gasped.

Patton was about to speak when his attention was pulled to the small hands tugging on his shirt in a patient persistence.

“Yes, Virgil?” Patton asked softly.

“Wha’s my magi’?” The youngest boy asked in a hushed whisper as the rest talked among themselves.

“You, my dear sweet shadowling,” Patton whispered, booping his nose. “have one of the strongest powers among us.”

“I do?” Virgil’s eyes grew wide, his hand lifting to his mouth to suck on his two fingers. It would be a few more years before Patton could manage to break him of the habit but it was cute nonetheless.

“Oh, yes. You have the power to protect. You tell us when something could hurt us or do damage in a way we haven’t noticed. In a way… You can see the future.” Patton’s allowed his voice to turn a bit wispy as if humbled by Virgil’s power.

“Sounds like a bunch of lies to me,” Janus interrupted, obviously eavesdropping.

“No one asked you!” Roman spat. “You didn’t even help protect your prince and now I’ve got a boo-boo! It’s not like you have any magic! ” He pointed at his knee, lifting it to put the scratch on display.

“Well, neither do you!” Janus argued.

“Oh, I think you both are pretty powerful when it comes to magic,” Patton offered.

“Well of course I am… I’m a prince!” Roman announced.

“Janus does too, Roman.” Patton mitigated.

“Like what?” Remus butted in, more curious that malicious.

“Well, Janus can work magic on people’s feelings,”

“I can?” Janus blinked in surprise.

“Well, of course Kiddo. You’re the best at it! You always know just what to say to make Remus feel better after he loses against the Prince’s armies,” Patton explained, “And you always know how to answer Roman’s questions about his costumes.” Naturally, Patton left out the fact that Janus used little white lies to work his magic and that he didn’t quite agree with the method, but the results were noteworthy.

“Boring!” Roman whined. “What about me?” Roman looked up at Patton expectantly.

“You, dear prince,” Patton replied, nuzzling him affectionately. “have the ability to change the world as we know it. You can push us to follow every passion our heart desires. You give us the very drive that will sustain us throughout our lives. ”

“What? That’s not fair! Why didn’t I get a cool power like that?” Remus huffed, sulking once more.

“’Cause I’m the Prince and I say so!” Roman answered, squirming in Patton’s arms. “Now, be quiet, Patton is talking about me!”

“Mneh!” Remus stuck out his tongue once more, but his brother ignored him.

“Now, now. I think all of your powers are cool,” Patton attempted.

“But Patton…” Logan mumbled, softly, as he stared up at the seemingly grown man. “What’s your power?”

Patton’s chest tightened at the question. Leave it to Logan to pull at the one string Patton wasn’t prepared for. What was Patton’s power? He manifested just as they all did, only he was the first. He grew faster than the rest of them, unable to keep up with Thomas growth, unable to keep up with his insecurity.

He was just Patton…. He had no magic… He wasn’t special. Not like the others.

He forced his smile to remain in place, trying not to let his voice crack as he answered. “Why would I ever need to be more than just happy pappy Patton when I get to spend time with all of you amazing magicians?”

“Patton?” Logan called, his voice distant and far too baritone to be coming from the pudgy boy before him. “Patton are you in here?” Logan called again causing the man to glance over his shoulder.

The memory he had immersed himself in froze, the boys still staring up at him.

He wiped a tear from his eye quickly and waved his hand, the children disappearing, leaving him alone in the small field behind their childhood home.

“I’m over here!” Patton called, standing and dusting off his pants, trying not to feel the loss. They had needed him so thoroughly. Everything was so different now. The boys were all grown. They all faced Thomas’ problems with a maturity Patton never could seem to muster. No doubt they thought him the child now.

 Logan strode up the small hill in his usual dark polo and striped tie adorning his broad shoulders.

“There you are,” Logan greeted with the same half smile he always did.

“Sorry, did you need something?” Patton asked softly, forcing his smile to turn warm.

“Yes, actually,” Logan admitted. “It seems Remus and Roman are fighting again, and Virgil and Janus are placing bets on who can make the most constructs in the imagination. It is truly a disaster. There are puppies and octopoda everywhere. No one will see reason. I could really use your help.”

Patton softened a bit at the words. Maybe they still needed him… just a tiny bit. He supposed he could live with that.

“Puppies?!” Patton squealed in excitement.

Logan’s gaze moved about the scene taking it in, obviously having expected Morality’s reaction. “Isn’t this…” he hesitated, turning on his heel. “Wasn’t this the field behind our home back in Orlando?”

“Oh…” Patton breathed, flushing slightly. “Is it?”

“It is! Thomas used to play out here all the time! We all did!” Logan mused, with a small huff of laughter. “Wow, it has been quite some time.”

Patton offered a melancholy smile as he glanced around. He missed it all. It was nice to have the memories though. At least he could relive it when ever he wanted. Though he doubted Logan would even bother to try to remember-

“You know 7% of Americans really do believe chocolate milk comes from chocolate cows,” Logan informed him, “And Roman is still one of them.” He laughed.

Patton’s heart fluttered at the fact that Logan remembered such a minute detail. He really was magic.

The sound of Logan’s deep chuckle had Patton joining him. “Best not spoil it for him,” Patton teased lightly as Logan offered out an arm for him to take as they headed out of the memory.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Logan reassured.

 La Fin.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

(was originally an ask, then i rambled a crapload, so if u wanna skip through, just go to the bolded questions)

i am new to the fandom & just found your blog, just wanted to say DAMN its so detailed and everything, i cant wait to read it all! also i was so relieved to find that the fandom is still alive <3

side note im just rambling here, i binged sherlock all really quick and everything is like a blur (idk if im in a state of shock or something, but i do know i was super invested at s1 ep 2, then i finished s4 at 4am one day and i had to read me some johnlock fics to comfort myself and i really dont know how i feel about anything yet just that well, johnlock and i cried during sherlocks fake death even tho i already accidentally read spoilers, and i also cried when they just went to hang out at bars together and hhh and during sherlocks best man speech and sherlocks goodbye to john (…maybe goodbye should be plural)…also i was v mad at eurus and s4 was a hell of a rollercoaster gd), so just wondering, how many times have you watched sherlock? how was the experience each time? (can be about any season or eps or anything, also any snacks u liked to eat while watching or anything of that sort? just curious and thought that might be fun to answer)(apologies if you answered this already i tried to look for it but i got a bit overwhelmed)

btw u are amazing ^^ (also nice timer even tho it makes me sad) and MAD RESPECT for answering so many asks and like SO DETAILED-LY? (i cant grammar) and god ur metas and stuff?? absolutely fantabulous. im legit crying im so glad i found your blog. i know how much work asks take (and like i procrastinate on them for so long…mm months old esp for fic rec lists bc i know those take WORK) so like again, SO MUCH RESPECT thank you for all your hard work!! you are absolutely fantastic and awesome :D please make sure you take care of yourself too <3

ALSO you have a great profile picture + background pic (forgive me i have half a braincell (actually lets make it .7437 gave myself a tiny upgrade even tho i didnt do anything) i forgot what its called…background thing?? idk) i love them!!

if u read through all that tysm, if not thank u anyways for being so amazing, i have a habit of rambling so pls bear with me ^^

(also would it be possible to make this anon? if not feel free to delete this line ^^)

(Submitted by Anonymous)

--------

Hi Lovely!!

Always can make something Anon if y’all ask <3

First of all, SORRY for how long it took me to get back to you with this one. I’m a giant heap of trash and I’m surprised people still come here LOL

Secondly, WELCOME TO THE FANDOM! We love having y’all here, and I’m honoured that you enjoy my blog and content! Also will comment on your praise on my meta here: THANK YOU. I’m very proud of my meta, and especially the SHEER AMOUNT of it I have produced still boggles me mind. Y’all remember when I was creative and thoughtful??? LOL S4 dragged me hard hahah. I still try to write S4 meta, just not as much as I used to. I like speculating, I truly do, but I have so little free time these days because of the nature of my full time job, so I tend to just... do nothing LOL. I find Fic Reccing really relaxing when you have nearly 800 bookmarks. I’m worried I’m becoming stale though. Oh well. I’m just trying to leave my mark here. <3

Thirdly, HAHHAH Thank you for your compliment about my replies to my asks; I genuinely wish I could get more asks finished every day, but I tend to ramble, as you can see, and I just... don’t finish them in a timely manner. Honestly, it’s a relief when I don’t know something because I can then get the community involved to help me out AND I also get new fic recs that way too LOL. I also draft a TONNE of asks and when I do that, I tend to just keep adding MORE and MORE and MORE so I have to post them, LOL. 

And finally: My fave episode is TAB; it was the episode I studied the closest and my analysis of the trailer is my “claim to fame”. I just love it to bits. It’s the episode I’ve watched the most. S3 is my fave season, and it’s the SEASON I’ve watched the most, no less than 30 or 40 times. Season 2, then 1. I have only seen S4 like 5 times in full total, and horribly enough, TFP is the most-watched episode: I watched the Leak, the airdate, and I went and saw it in the theatres because I already bought the ticket before it aired so I just... didn’t care. And then at least 3 more times in Watchalongs. So yeah :| I still haven’t watched the BluRay I bought, but I hated having an incomplete set so I bought it when it went on sale fore 10 bucks LOL.

But yeah, S1 and 2 I watched together, and I LOVED the show. I joined fandom the summer before S3 aired, and S3 is when I REALLY got into the fandom. I’ve been pretty much here since then, about 7 years I think now. When I saw S4, it was incredulity and disappointment with it. That’s really it. I’m still a fence sitter these days about the series as a whole, but I’m leaning more and more to “no S5 for at least 3 more years” kinda thing. Just... everyone involved seems so disinterested in the show these days, minus Mofftiss to keep pushing the Sherlock™ Brand to make money.

ANYWAY. Thanks for writing to me!! This was such a joy to read when I first got it, and I just... have been really overwhelmed the past few weeks that I just have only been sticking to shorter asks. But I had some free time tonight when I’m answering this, so THANK YOU. 

I hope you’re still around, and I hope you still enjoy your time here! Don’t hesitate to ask me anything else!! <3 <3

[impracticaldemon]

The Price of Fame

Fairy Tail fanfiction by impracticaldemon for Gray Day (September 1, 2020)

Author’s Note: I wanted to write something fun for Gray Day 2020, since Gray is my favourite Fairy Tail guy, and he needs more appreciation. This short fic takes place “some time” after the GMG, after the guild is back in Magnolia. Just go with it... One disclaimer: the image is kind of relevant, but mostly I just think it’s cool XD ~ Imp

The Price of Fame

Gray let his companion’s chatter wash over him, keeping his impatience in check and—hopefully—hidden.  The bar was dim, even on a sunny afternoon in late summer, and mercifully cool.  It was a traditional kind of place, with well-worn plank floorboards, and lots of scuffed dark wood and tarnished brass.  Gray liked it here, and could only hope that the man sitting beside him was telling the truth about only being in town for a short time.  He’d hate to have to start avoiding the place.

“So, now that your guild is famous—and you’re famous!—do you have any plans to, you know, do something with it?”

“Do something?”  Gray forced himself to focus.  Idle conversation with an old acquaintance wasn’t his thing.  He’d agreed to share a drink or two for politeness’ sake—Erza had been nearby when the man had come up to him—but he hadn’t been enthused about it, and he was regretting the decision.

“Well, yeah!  You know, get into the advertising game, make some money off it while people still know who you are!”

“…People know who I am.”  That sounded self-important, so Gray added, “I mean, those who need to know, know.”

His companion took a large swig of foamy beer, coughed, and shook his head.  “See, that’s a mistake right there, Gray!  That’s how come you’ll always be second best to that Natsu guy!”

Gray finished his beer—without choking on it—and leaned forward a little.  The temperature in the immediate area dropped a couple of degrees.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, I mean, look… I’m not trying to say you’re actually second best”—the man’s tone wasn’t convincing—“I’m just saying that Dragneel’s more showy, you know?  He knows how to get attention and keep it.  I’ll bet he’s a huge draw for promoting stuff.”

Gray forced himself to shrug.  It had taken time, effort, and a ton of practice, but he did better these days about not deep-freezing people who compared him negatively to Natsu.  …But it was annoying how many opportunities he’d had to practice his self-restraint.

“You’re right, Boritt—”

“Biritt.”

“—Yeah, Biritt. Anyway, you’re right that Natsu draws a lot of attention.  Not always good attention, though.” More like Magic Council Mad at Fairy Tail Again attention. Or Yet Another Town Bans Fairy Tail’s Team Natsu attention.

“Ehn, you know what they say about ‘any publicity is good publicity.’ The point is, the Grand Magic Games are still news, which mean that you are news.  Time for the spotlight and a good sponsorship deal, right?  I mean, come on, stop trying to be modest—”

Uh-huh, thought Gray, draining half the new beer the barkeep had just dropped off.  What’s your angle Biritt? We barely knew each other four years ago, let alone now.

Biritt sensed that he’d lost his audience somehow, and turned up the brightness on his smile.  He tried to punch Gray playfully on the shoulder, but Gray leaned forward at the last moment, and he didn’t connect.  Both men pretended that nothing had happened.

“So…” Biritt wasn’t giving up. “How about letting me help you make it big?  I’d hate to see you, you know, get overlooked.  I’ve been in the biz for a couple of years, and I’m sure I could hook you up with a couple of juicy contracts!  You should—”

“Oy—Popsicle Breath!”  A pink-haired man stood in the doorway, squinting into the gloom.

“Got a problem, Flamebrain?”  Gray could feel his quiet afternoon slipping away, but he was glad for the interruption.

“Yeah, I want to try out a coupla new moves, but Erza’s busy, and Laxus isn’t around, and Lucy says she’s busy washing her hair—again—and Happy went out somewhere, and Mira kinda banned me from the hall this morning, and Gramps said—oh hey, you know this guy too? Boritt, right?”

“It’s actually Biritt, Mr. Dragneel!  Like ‘beer!’”

“And ‘it’,” Gray added helpfully, his expression bland.

“Sure, yeah, okay.” Natsu smiled breezily.  Most people would have assumed he was unaware of Gray’s understated snark, but Gray suspected otherwise.

“So—sparring!” Biritt hopped off his barstool and advanced on Natsu, his expression covetous.  “I mean wow! A chance to see the kingdom’s top dragon slayer in action! Hope you don’t mind if I write up a little something for my travel blog?  My readers will be thrilled!  And I have a pretty big readership, Mr. Dragneel—trust me, you’d get only the best exposure.  Better yet, you might want to consider that agency agreement I mentioned earlier!”

“Uh, yeah…  I mean—I don’t think I—”

Gray was surprised.  It was unlike Natsu to sound so indecisive.  He might ignore something outright, or respond with something outrageous, but hesitation wasn’t his style.  Gray frowned internally.  It struck him again, more forcibly, that agreeing to drinks at his favourite bar with a bare acquaintance had been an odd thing for him to do.  Natsu wasn’t the only one out of character.

“Another drink, sir?”  Gray turned to the barkeep, and saw the twitchy look establishment owners got when their sixth sense told them that something was going on with a member of Fairy Tail.  He couldn’t blame them.

“No, I’m good.”  Gray paid for both sets of drinks and headed for the door.

“Whoa—Gray!”  That was Natsu, but he could also hear Biritt calling out to him in confusion.

As soon as all three of them were outside, Gray turned to Biritt.

“It’s been interesting, but I think I’ve got other things to do now.”

“Huh? Gray—wait—if it was something I said earlier…” The would-be publicity agent to Team Natsu sounded squeaky with anxiety.

“You mean trying to get to me about Natsu being more famous?  Or do you mean that you might have overreached yourself by trying to string both of us along at the same time?”

When the man started to protest, Gray’s patience snapped, and he conjured up an ice gag.  Natsu was staring at him.

“Um, Gray… I don’t think Erza’s going to be keen on this…”

“Maybe not, but I’ll bet she’ll be even less keen on Biritt here when she finds out that he tried to use magic to charm us into some kind of weird agency thing.”

“Mm-mm-mmmmmph!” Biritt sounded shrill, even through the ice. He could’ve been complaining about the cold, but Gray suspected it was more than that.

“Look, Biritt.  I’m sure you’re a master of the con game, and I seemed like the perfect patsy to you.  And I can’t blame you for thinking Natsu is totally oblivious to being manipulated, ‘cause he can be pretty dense.”

“Hey!”

Gray ignored Natsu.

“But seriously, guy…” He poked Biritt in the chest. “Just because we’re good at wrecking things doesn’t mean we aren’t good mages, you know?  Eventually I was going to realize you were messing with me by magic, and I wasn’t going to like it.  Seeing you with Natsu just let me figure you out sooner.”  

Gray wasn’t surprised when the man finally gave up and tried to run.  It was child’s play to snap on a set of ice manacles and drag him back.

“So now what?”  There was no trace of friendliness in Natsu’s expression as he studied Biritt.

“Now we hand him over to Erza, or Makarov, and go for a beer.”  Gray’s eyebrows rose a little.  “Or if you ask nicely, I’ll spar with you.”

“Give me a break, Ice Princess!”

“If you insist.”  Gray was suddenly looking forward to a good fight.

They ignored the muffled shrieks from their captive as they headed off to the guildhall to hand the whole problem over to somebody else. Gray just hoped that Erza didn’t get distracted by Biritt’s spiel once they let him speak again.  She had a weakness for cute merchandise…

[END]

Closing Note: Gray Fullbuster for the win! I hope you enjoyed the story. And if you can, help out a poor, beleaguered author (aka me) by adding a note, comment, or maybe something kind in the tags! Thank you for reading ♥

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-19

Figured an upd8 was coming, it’s felt like enough time has passed for one.

Huh, looking at my last post I’d completely forgotten I was supposed to play through Pesterquest sometime... work is busy and stressing me out a bit, I’m not sure when I’ll have the energy on the side to do that.  (Maybe I’ll livetweet it like I did Undertale a while ago, but this time not looking at my twitter replies so I don’t get spoiled by One Guy™?)

Also, including bonus commentary on A Threat Sensed.

Okay, going in completely blind.  I’d guessed from context that we’re hopping over to Meat side to get a chapter there before we can come back to actually see Yiffy?

Yep.  Okay, what is this about exactly?

(Agh, dammit, I’ve been copying and pasting so much at work remoting into Windows lately that now I’m automatically trying to hit control-C instead of command-C to copy.)

> CHAPTER 9. How Goes The Eulogizing, Dear?

CONTENT NOTE: This chapter contains Child Abuse.

Which one???

Wait

JANE: (Where is he?) JANE: (It's a question I've found myself asking many times in recent days.)

Holy SHIT we get two Candy chapters in a row???  So we might see her right away??  No, it’s gotta just be another tiny glimpse.

(Has two Candy chapters in a row happened before?  Future Boots, scroll back up and put this here. FUTURE BOOTS: “I forgot to scroll back up and put that here.” EDIT: Also, not the first time with two in a row, but it IS the first time with THREE in a row, huh.)

So Jane has to be talking about either Tavros or Dave.  --Oh, if this was a Candy Side chapter title, I guess Rose or Jade is eulogizing Dave for John?

> (==>)

JANE: (Where now is our merry savior?) JANE: (Where is the horn that was honking?) JANE: (Where is the cape and the codpiece, and the...) JANE: (The...) JANE: (Oh, fiddlesticks.)

What?  Is she reading a childrens’ book?  --Oh.  She’s eulogizing Gamzee.  So that gives us a third option, where the rebellion crashes the funeral somehow, probably audiovisually rather than in person.  (Which would make sense, given Candy practically began with Gamzee crashing Dirk’s funeral.)

> (==>)

Ah never mind, she’s still writing it.

That sure is a single button drama-remote that’s going to be pressed at some point.  Oh, and who the fuck keeps a spork in a pen cup???  --No no, don’t say it’s one of those pens with a spork at the eraser end, either ready-made or rubber-banded to the side.  That would make sense.  You totally know it isn’t that and is just a spork.

JANE: (Okay, poetry is out.) JANE: (What else?) JANE: (Hrm...) JANE: (I've always been pretty good at crying on cue.) JANE: (Could I try staging an emotional breakdown?) JANE: (That could work; playing to people's humanity.)

Why were you crying in Jake’s arms about his death if you didn’t care that much?  Did you just want him to hold you and kinda make him feel in on things again?  Or did you just cry yourself out about him?

JANE: (Or whatever is the more inclusive term.)

I bet the rest of Earth C figured out a more inclusive term millenia ago FUCK I accidentally added millennia to my dictionary misspelled instead of correcting it hold on--

...There, killed the entry for it.  ...Huh.  Take a look at my Chrome dictionary’s custom-added words over the years, apparently:

Caliborn Eridan Kanaya Matriorb Meenah Tavros alchemiter dichotomic nephilim reblogged uncaptchalogues uncaptchaloguing

That’s fun.

Okay back to reading. Millennia.  Phew!  Where was I.

JANE: (One really good and calculated weep could do it, I think.) JANE: (But then there's the danger that I might get carried away and do it for real.) JANE: (And I can't risk that.)

So still feeling something, just too used to calculating over the past years.

JANE: (What can I say about him that will stir up their emotions?) JANE: (Do I mention the stuff about the milk?) JANE: (Think Crocker, think.)

WHY would you-- how much did Gamzee normalize adult breastfeeding?!

JAKE: Ahoy over there!

Not the best time.

(The thing with the divorce papers from the Epilogue and John implying he was planning with Jake to execute something that sounds like a divorce... is that going to be sprung here?  Did her lawyers send the divorce papers way back when she was in a fit of pique, and he just had them available to sign now at the tactical moment? Or... let me pull the exact text...)

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along. JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being. JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later. JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today.

(So is John going to submit the papers? Or did they already go through a while ago and default custody to John or something who’s going to adopt him too or some nonsense?  And did he plan this out with Jake NOW, or a while ago, and if only a while ago, is Jake going to KNOW whatever John’s about to pull in that respect is about to happen??)

> (==>)

Butte

Janepalme

> (==>)

JAKE: Er... how goes the eulogizing, dear?

Gah.  I completely forgot again that capitalized-first-letter chapter names don’t mean KANAYA is saying them.  That probably makes a lot more sense out of my wondering about the chapter title earlier to those of you who didn’t realize I was making that mistake.

JANE: It turns out that it's mighty difficult to find touching things to say about a person, the relationship with whom was predicated on deep-seated mutual loathing.

Hah!

--A loathing you regarded as largely more important to you than Jake ever was, by the way.  You asshole.

JANE: I imagine this is one of the reasons no funerary tradition was ever established on Alternia, besides the barbarism of their culture. DIRK: Jesus christ. JANE: Not only did a significant proportion of their interpersonality depend on romance in the form of hatred, but it was a society based on cruelty and violence. JANE: What reason could they have had to provide for the dead? JANE: What kind of last rites could they have even imagined?

I wondered for a moment why (bg!)Dirk of all people would react to a single line of her starting to bring up prejudices, but then I realized that (1) Brain Ghost Dirk is a little more Jakey, and (2) Dirk knew that more ranting would follow the first line.

JANE: I can't think of anything good to write about him because deep down, I hated his guts. JANE: But he was and is beloved of the multitude, so I have to think of something regardless. JAKE: Im not sure i understand. JANE: Don't worry your pretty little head about it. JANE: This is politics, Jakey. JANE: Lying through your two front teeth about people you hate is about as good a definition as it's possible to get. JANE: But, by gum, is it tiring work.

Mm.  It’s a position Jane put herself in, but it’s still a legitimate position once you’re there.

JANE: The funeral is tomorrow, after all.

Got it.

DIRK: Dude, the bowl. JAKE: Hm? JAKE: Oh, right. JANE: What is it now, Jake. JAKE: I brought something for our guest as well. JANE: You mean the prisoner. JAKE: Y...es.

Wait, bowl?

Oh god damnit which of you had the idea to feed her with a DOG BOWL.  Either of you could have thought of it, and either of you would be horrible for it.

> (==>)

Huh, that outfit on Yiffy looks familiar, like a reference to something.  And a black tail?  This definitely isn’t quite the look I was expecting from Jade Plus Rose, but I suppose the snazzy tie is a Roseish vibe.  Also reminiscent of Jade’s old Dead Shuffle dress.  Formal wear and soccer cleats??

JANE: She's over in the corner. JANE: Don't worry, she won't bite. JANE: I've seen to that already.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN.  I don’t see anything over her mouth!  Did she stick something in it, or drug her?  File her fucking teeth???

I mean I did forget the Child Abuse trigger warning to be fair.  Hoping whatever would be on her mouth is just not shown in-panel yet for stylistic reasons.

> (==>)

JAKE: Its only mac and cheese, sorry. JAKE: Its all I know how to make, haha. JAKE: ... JAKE: I um... hope you can safely partake of cheese? JAKE: ... JAKE: Well, JAKE: Bon appetit.

How the fuck did Jake eat on his island then?  --Oh right, preserved food cans that Grandma Jade stored up, I think I remember.  Why would cheese not be a thing for them, if it’s fine for Jade?  I know he’s probably not just worried about lactose intolerance.

Either way, if she’s drugged here, that’ll mean we won’t get a good idea of her for a while, so which is it...

> (==>)

DIRK: Bon appetit. DIRK: Seriously dude? JAKE: (What? Did i pronounce it wrong?) DIRK: Jake. DIRK: You put the food in a fucking dog bowl. JAKE: (It was all there was, ok???) JAKE: (I feel awful enough as it is without you getting on my case about it.)

Ah, missed the bone pun.  AND, yeah, Jake, you’re a fucking idiot, you could have put it in a cup or something.

JAKE: (So far ive yet to see anything come of that brilliant plan of yours.) JAKE: (Are you sure sending that message to the others was enough?)

Okay, so he IS coordinating this slightly.

> (==>)

Horrifying image to contemplate, eh Jane?

Or anger-inducing?

> (==>)

Seems about right!

> (==>)

Oh that’s a GREAT exasperated Jane face.

JANE: I hope you're not expecting dessert, young lady.

I like how Jane didn’t notice, comment on, or care about the bowl.  How can you hate a kid so much??

> (==>)

Oh I know why I felt like I recognized the outfit style, it’s because it’s ANIME AS FUCK.  Feels like some Persona 4 Arena nonsense, and I say that not having played any of those games or even remembering what they looked like.  Also, white hair, black fur’d dog parts?  Nice change of pace.

YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR... JANE: Oh no you don't.

Red text?  What color exactly... “#D00009”?  Huh.  That’s nowhere near Alt-Callie’s #FF0000, and darker than Dave’s #E00707.  In fact, let me go back and check those spilled color pins the commentary pointed out from an update or two ago...  no, the red pin is #E63225, closer to Dave’s color.  (Also, is Yiffy blocking the doorway out?  That’s a pretty slack chain then.)

Did Jane see to it that she wouldn’t bite with like, a water spray bottle?

(EDIT: Oh my FUCKING GOD, THAT's why it's #D00009...)

> (==>)

FUCK I didn’t notice the shock collar in the Yiffy image!  FUCK YOU, Jane.

> (==>)

Keeping someone in line with collars, especially ones that punish whenever one strays out of line, has always been a decent way for her to mix in some Doomy control of others to show how she’s “grown” to balance her main role and her Tiara-controlled-like inverse for more power.  Doom in part represents boundaries that you can’t cross without getting hurt or punished.

> (==>)

FUCK, those little buck teeth!?  D’:

JANE: That's more like it.

She HAS to have more of a reason for hating her than hating her parents, right?  Like, more than that and general racism applying to partdogfolk?

> (==>)

Hey fuck off with that!

> (==>)

This is a pretty cool ima-- are those piercings on her dog ear?  I didn’t notice that in the first shot, neat.

JANE: You've been a thorn in my side ever since I agreed to enroll you at the academy, little madam. JANE: Back then, I was doing a favor for two old friends who made a disgusting mistake. JANE: I'm no longer going to play nice with you just because of your parents, however. JANE: That truce is over. JANE: Do I make myself understood?

What the fuck?  WHY would you do that?  Why does Jane run "Ms. Paint’s Home for Inconvenient Girls”?  What did Yiffy do to piss her off so much there, how much trouble could she have caused?

I don’t know if she’s referring to the behind-Kanaya’s-back part as disgusting or she’s just being MORE racist.

> (==>)

JANE: We don't want you passing out during the ceremony, do we?

Oh, just showing the hostage off during the clown funeral, huh?  Classy much?

> (==>)

JANE: Now, be a good hostage and get some rest, Yiffany dear. JANE: We've got a big day tomorrow.

For a politician, Jane’s not good at looking at herself in a mirror.

> (==>)

JANE: Night night. JANE: Hoo hoo.

> (Yiffy: Lights out.)

Huh, dream stuff is gonna be relevant out in Candy then? *click*

Okay, dark background all of a sudden.  Properly dramatic?  You even have to highlight the non-link “>” part of the Next link to see it.

> (==>)

-- thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG] --

Well, I don’t know WHY it’s happening, but the white-backed pesterlog suddenly on the dark site framing is certainly evocative.  Of like, a mood, or something.

TG: i thought he was pretty quiet down there. TG: we'll make a rebel of him yet! AG: Lol. AG: I think it's more that he can't sleep. AG: I know how he feels. TG: yeah. TG: today was a lot. AG: ... TG: do you wanna talk about it? AG: Ugh, not you as well.

It’s really jarring to transition between Homestuck’s “kids jarringly mentally resistant to freaking out about the end of the world” to HS^2′s more realistic “kids traumatized by their first firefight even though it was an overwhelming victory-escape”.

TG: but seriously, do you? AG: Not really. TG: not even about... you know? TG: her? AG: No. TG: ... are you sure? AG: A8solutely. AG: What are you, my moirail? AG: Just leave it, Harry. TG: ok.

Are they about to have an “I wonder what Yiffy’s like” talk?

> (==>)

Very similar Tav/Vrissy convo to the previous one.

GG: I havent ever shared a bedroom before,,, GG: Not even for a slumber party,,, AG: Tavvy, you are just a8out the saddest person I've ever met.

Well, we have an even better idea how horrible Jane can be with kids, now.  From Nanna to THIS is quite jarring.  I wonder how the double Nannasprites that must still be around here somewhere feel?

> (==>)

TG: nothing about my dad is cute. TG: what are you even saying. AG: Lmao. TG: seriously! TG: i think he has something against that word, even. he gets super weird about it. AG: He's a strange and funny m8n. TG: yeah. TG: ... TG: i think something bad must have happened.

...um.  What?  Why would John have some sort of trauma about the word cute or being called it?

Did John dress up as a hint of his buried June ambitions as a kid and Dad lavish him with “SO CUTE” praise in an epic supportiveness backfire that caused him to shelve the idea of wearing non-masc clothes and being happier on the flipside of gender ever again???  Because if that’s how June gets canonized as promised, it’s a little harsher than the back of my mind was hoping.  I guess it kind of had to be though from the premise of how it was read into his childhood for the original idea, though.  Fuck, I hope this Cute business is about something different from that (like a Terezi reference or such) just to get less John Sads.  (But still June.  Definitely still want to get June.)

> (==>)

Oh, and now Vrissy is doing nothing but talking about what she said she didn’t want to talk about, of course.  (Also I like how JANE’s now being called the Batterwitch.)

AG: And the worst part was they didn't even fight a8out it! AG: That made me madder than 8nything else. AG: It felt like I was the only person who even W8S mad! GG: I dont think thats true,,, AG: What would you know a8out it?! GG: Maybe nothing,,, GG: Sorry,,, GG: Its just,,, GG: To me,,, all the way through the conversation,,, aunt kanaya looked even angrier than you,,, AG: ... AG: Adults are so fucking weird.

Guh, I don’t want to be reminded how hurt a good chunk of the fanbase is by Kanaya getting hurt this badly.

Original Tavros was always SLIGHTLY perceptive of others sometimes, but maybe perceptiveness is being hinted at as a Tavros specialty?  We still don’t know his classpect/hero-title or have any firm guesses based on purely him evidence.  (Also, frightened kids of abusive households tend to learn to get perceptive pretty fucking quickly I hear.)

> (==>)

TG: dad was sitting in the cafeteria with aunt jade and your moms. TG: it looked like they were discussing something important... they were whispering and stuff.

[etc etc] Alright, the what-happened-to-Dave bit.  And I imagine they’re kind of helping John grieve there, since Rose and Jade have talked that out already.

TG: aunt kanaya's was the only face i could see. TG: she was standing next to them, but she wasn't looking at what was going on. TG: almost like she couldn't bear to. AG: I doubt it. Kanaya's got a8out as much Emotivity as a very reclusive stone. TG: ok, i think that is bullshit but whatever. TG: she saw me standing there, but didn't say anything. she just shook her head slightly, and pointed back out into the hallway i came down.

Yep, giving them some space to grieve.  Also-- gosh, shouldn’t Vrissy have the same emotive senses that Aranea implied Vriska shared with her?  Kanaya isn’t that EXPRESSIVE but she’s certainly full of emotion.  Also, I hope part of her not bearing to watch wasn’t lingering anger toward Jade and Rose mixing with that, but there probably was a bit of that too, though Dave being gone is so much harsher than that. --I just realized they might not have broken the news to Karkat yet, either.

AG: I guesadxcxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz TG: vrissy?

Put to sleep by someone slumping down on your phone keypad, or surprised by something about the other conversation?

Oh shit, “other conversation” reminded me I didn’t look at Tavros’s chumhandle:

glutinousGymnast [GG]

HHHHHhhhhuh.  Hm... huh? hhhh.  huh?  what, but.  Why would.  ?????

I really don’t understand what that chumhandle or any of its entendres should signify in this context.

Also, this means for our new four kids we have TG, GG, AG, and ??.

> (==>)

GG: I think she might have succumbed to sleep quite suddenly,,, GG: It would explain the,,,,,, interesting messages I've been getting for a while,,, TG: hehe. TG: i guess that tracks. TG: she does that from time to time.

That’s... strange.  Homestuck’s taught us to be suspicious of that.

TG: ... TG: tav? GG: Yes,,, harry anderson,,,? TG: what does it feel like to know someone who's died?

Who is Harry referring to? (EDIT: Yes I know Gamzee for Tavros, but I meant Harry talks like he's worried he'll have to feel that way soon?)  Is he just kind of inferring that something bad might have happened to Uncle Dave?  Got that perceptive “parents are about to tell me about a death in the family” vibe?  Or did he overhear more than he let on to Vrissy?

...alright, that’s the last page of this update.  Looks like this chapter is going to continue to have a good bunch of grieving, or talk around it.

---

Now for Bonus Commentary for A Threat, Sensed.  For some reason I have a dim memory of like... reading this myself without commenting on it?  Or skimming it?  But I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that.  Weird.  Must have imagined doing it.

Ah, I think I saw the opening paragraph scrolling Patreon, and my mind kinda filled in the blanks, this is still looking new to me.

Okay, mostly banter and japes in the commentary here.  About Dirk “throwing a huge tantrum in his philosophy cave”.

We’ve had quite a bit of speculation on whether this is “really” Andrew. To that, I think we’d say that it doesn’t “really” matter.

Really?  That was speculated about?  :/

Here we discover that Dirk has not, as some people have speculated, been directly intervening into the Candy timeline, or influencing it in any way. In fact, he has a very hard time seeing anything going on there at all.

Mhmm, and that was a pretty important thing to learn.

A couple of years ago I might have agreed with the take that everything happening in Candy is simply too outlandish to ever happen naturally, without direct, villainous interference, but that was before literally every fucking batshit insane thing that has happened on Real Life Earth started going down, and now I will believe literally anything. 

This is a nice bit of distraction from the idea that at least the opening parts of the Candy story were written/narrated by Original, Alive Calliope over on meat side.  To refresh your memory of what was pointed out to me:

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls TEREZI: WH4T? ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise ROXY: some of it is like ROXY: weird and violent?? ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um ROXY: nudity???? TEREZI: >:? ROXY: yeah yikes ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

Which tracks with the initial out-of-character-seemingness of almost everyone at the start of Candy, and how they kind of tried to railroad things back onto the “Happy??” track after Dirk derailed it with his weird self-accumulation suicide, along with some of the flowery-idyllic descriptions of characters seeing each other bathed in a halo of light and such.

Of course, they’re not going to out-and-out STATE that Calliope was at fault for that narration, helping the Candy story not necessarily fall out the way it did “naturally”, until we finally get a glimpse of her on the heroes’ ship in Meat probably still painting the continuing Candy events, inspiring them into the void of the singularity with her latent powers.  Til then, it’s a bit of misdirection whenever the topic is to be brought up.  Along with a mix of Roxy’s late-Candy point to John of more or less “why COULDN’T we have done this naturally? you don’t know”.

He might even think that he has more direct power over the narrative than Hussie does himself. Surprise, motherfucker, you are a fictional character. 

:p

I’ll quote this next part in full:

There’s been talk of whether or not this bonus was written in the two days between its release and the Yiffy reveal chapter. The answer is--no. It was written over a month ago. But I think the things it addresses were not difficult to suss out. Obviously, Dirk is highlighting the issues that the readership are having with Yiffy, in his typical Dirk fashion. If it seems a little defensive, well...I suppose it is. Yiffy is one of the two hard lines drawn in the sand, and all of us love her, and we’re hoping that everyone else will love her too. But more than that, it focuses on the fact that update culture has a rhythm to it--shock, revulsion, acceptance (or not), and then excitement (or not). Will it follow that pattern this time? Who knows. I guess we’ll find out. 

Yeah, given what was going to be dropped on us I expected they would have had exactly this lined up, especially because Andrew specifically mandated Yiffy.  --I wonder why they aren’t mentioning that somewhere in the commentary and only on one of their Twitters?

Also quoting this:

There’s something both incredibly “cringe” and self-indulgent, as well as philosophically intriguing, about the author arguing with his villain, especially since he’s writing both halves of the conversation himself. You are, for all intents and purposes, trying to solve a problem that you have created for yourself. You are looking an aspect of your personality in the eye and asking, hey, what the fuck, man?

But in the end, isn’t that what every story is? Trying to untie knots that you put in the rope yourself?

Since it’s part of the central struggle of this story, and kind of the question Andrew’s tried to imply with every Homestuck work about what right we have to keep these characters trapped in a story, and if they’d be better off escaping it.

I’m really trying to avoid quoting so much of this, since the commentary is paid...  but I think we can make an exception here?  I’ll have only quoted about half of it; just, the really plot-important half.  Plus, I left out a LOOOT of japes.

Dirk has a certain idea of how stories are supposed to go. That’s pretty much what the Epilogues is about. The audience also has a certain expectation of how a story is supposed to go. In a way, the Epilogues were also about that. They were taking a story that had reached the traditionally “acceptable” happily ever after, and saying, wait, no. What happens next? Thinking past happily ever after in any story is a terrifying prospect. Once Cinderella marries the prince, what then? Sure, she got what she wanted, but who knows that it will be everything she dreamt it would? What if she changes her mind, if not today, what about ten years from now? What if the prince dies of malaria? 

And I’m...

Yeah I don’t have anything else to add here, I’m kind of out of brain juice to think about this tonight.  BUSY day I had.  Y’all take care!

[chaos-monkeyy]

State of Chaos

Hi folks! Been awhile since I did this (and I meant to do it yesterday, whoops.. *pretends it’s still Wednesday* 😅). 

So as usual, I’ve wound up working on a lot of random stuff instead of getting all the languishing WIPs done 😂 But I have wrapped up a few things! Also, it’s almost November and I have something I’ve picked to try doing for NaNoWriMo… It’s already making me nervous because 1,667 words a day is rather a lot AND my idea has way more plot than I usually write (still porn too though, fear not). Anyway, I have no idea how well it’s gonna go but I can at least give it a shot! So if it actually goes well, I’m unlikely to be posting as much fic for the next little while. 

Oh! There are a couple new fandoms in the mix now too. Namely, the Thrawn Ascendancy novel as well as Stargate Atlantis, thanks to an exceptionally fun rewatch with Leif and DD 😁 I’m just horribly fixated lately on John Sheppard and his should-be-illegal pants… and now Ronon is there too, I may not survive 🤤 Backstory, I adore stargate SG1 and Atlantis, grew up watching it, but this is the first time I’m watching any of it since learning about fandom sooo… I’m having fun lol

(p.s. In case anyone was wondering, my little dumbass cat successfully learned how to use her fancy feeder. It’s adorable watching her nose it open, and Unauthorized Greedy Pet is extremely put out any time he tries to go steal her food now 😆)

Assassin’s Creed 

Diletto 

Shelved for now— not abandoned, just haven’t been feeling the het smut lately.

The skills of Assassins 

I’ve gotten a bit stuck on chapter 4 of the Ezio/Mario fic for some reason, but I did make some progress on it! So that fic update is still coming, just… slowly. 

Other 

I started some Shaun/Desmond AC3 cavern sex but got stuck and haven’t finished it 🙈 Also vague outlines written out for potential sequels to both Not Here (Desmond wetting himself in the Animus) and Demands and Desires (AC3 HaythCon filth). And I have been poking at the Witcher crossover fic too! 

Posted 

Demands and Desires - HaythCon smut; contains incest and ManipulativeAsshole!Haytham. Explicit.

Ache - Drabble smut about Ezio jerkin’ it; 100 words for my 100th fic 🎉. Explicit.

Midsomer Murders 

MM x Wallace and Gromit crossover

I’ve been thinking about this one recently, I’m gonna try and get access to s14 and 15 of Midsomer and maybe start working at it again! It’s the most long-running WIP I have… Actual Story is HARD 😭🥺

Star Wars

The self-indulgent Chiss-human orgy fic 

It’s very close to being done! I’m hoping to get it finished up with Jewell before too much longer 😊😏 

[Title redacted] 

Still working on this filth fest with Rev. It’ll be done some day, we just have too much we want to put into it where is the brain-to-fic machine already dammit 😭

Other

Someday I intend to get that part 3 of the Pinned (Thranto) and the Stripped (Thrawn/Thrass) series written. I also have a plan for another Thrakif fic, too damn many plans to continue the Inappropriate Places pissfic series, and a delicious kinky little Thranto prompt still in my askbox here that I am definitely going to fill sooner or later 😏

Posted 

A Moment in Private - Thrakif smut; Cadet Thrawn getting off while fantasizing about General Ba’kif. Explicit.

A rare thing - Thrawn/Ziara fluff and cuddles ficlet. Teen and up. 

Breathless - Thrakif breathplay; prompt fill with lots of desk sex and light Dom/sub. Explicit. 

(Come) Ride With Me - Thrawn/Eli/Thrass smut. I finally finished the chisscest-y Biker AU!! Explicit. 

Discoveries - Part 1 of Eli peeing in inappropriate places and Thrawn getting turned on by it (well, so does Eli). Explicit. 

Zombie / what’s in your head - A rare angst-tacular Thranto fic. MCD and heavy subject matter. Mature. 

Stargate Atlantis

Nothing specific in progress; it’ll be whatever I get inspired to write as I keep watching through the show! My personal rule for these is that I can write whatever grabs my interest so long as I don’t take too long working on it 🙈 

Posted 

Of rituals and birthday presents - Sheppard / Keras implied-smut. Light-hearted stuff featuring aural voyeurism and a very flustered Rodney McKay. Teen and up. 

The smart thing - dark!Sheppard / Kolya, includes fear-wetting and noncon facefucking. Mind the tags. Explicit. 

The Witcher 

I don’t have much Witcher fic on the burner at the moment. Kinda waiting for s2 at this point, really, and someday I’ll play TW3 and probably get some more inspiration from there! I have been picking at the Witcher x AC Gerezkier (Geralt/Ezio/Jaskier) crossover with Levs, though! I’m slowly getting more comfortable with the smut-to-story balance as we work out where it’s going 😁. Other than that, I have a few things still kicking around my ideas list that I might pick up at some point when brain decides it wants to randomly start something new instead of working on WIPs. 

Posted 

Flagrant Indecency - I did manage to get the final chapter of this finished and posted for the Finish Your Fic deadline! 🥳💦. Explicit. 

Don’t Stop - Geraskier somnomo prompt fill. Juiced-up Geralt, somnophilia, and watersports; some consent issues. Explicit. 

[haikyuuscreaming]

omg hi! you started off your blog greatly, im so proud of you! do you think you can write an angsty scenario for akaashi? where his crush likes this guy and wants help from him and he feels all sad :( but she ends up confessing to him! i love your writing so far, keep it up!

UMM so i accidentally got really invested in this so it’s WAYY longer than a drabble and i often write long stuff bc of ao3 so this might sound a little more like that kinda fanfic style instead of a tumblr scenario? mainly cos im really a sucker for this stuff hehehe love you anon

also ! the request made it sound sort of akaashi-centric so i hope you dont mind? there will still be a lot of reader-chan here though! please dont leave yet and i hope u enjoy

again ALSO i wrote this half on my laptop half on my phone so please dont mind if it seems a lil clunky in some areas 

3092 words jesus ok here you go

-

Crushes weren’t necessarily a new sensation for Akaashi. Just an uncommon one. In fact, the last time he remembers even being attracted to someone was in first grade when everyone had a crush on this popular girl. He’s not even sure if he really liked her, or just found the idea of it interesting.

Now, second year of high school, Akaashi finds himself in trouble. Because for once, he really, really, really likes this girl. You. 

He can’t even fake himself out of this, because every damn time he looks at you, he feels all warm and tingly and his stomach feels less calm and he can hear his heart bump against his ribcage and god, his face even flushes a little bit.

(A little bit inconvenient when he accidentally finds himself staring at you and daydreaming.)

Akaashi doesn’t like this feeling.

I mean, yeah, Akaashi has somewhat of a sense of confidence in his looks, manners, and ability to make friends. He’s not exactly the top in each subject he thinks, but it lets him pass through high school without too much of a depressingly lonely life. He could easily befriend you and steal your heart, his inner ego-brat says.

But.. but what if you reject him?

He should become closer to you.

(For the record, he doesn’t not like the feeling. He kind of likes the serotonin boost you give him. But he definitely, more than kind of likes you.

A lot more.)

And one day, in the spring, he finds himself paired up with a special biology partner. With familiar, sparkling eyes and the cutest, most gorgeous voice he’s ever heard that always makes his heart fucking backflip.

Akaashi doesn’t think he can survive this.

His teacher blares, “Start brainstorming ideas for your science fair project! It’s due in a month, you know!”, but Akaashi blocks out the noise because all he can focus on is you, goddamn it. He can only focus on the way you push your hair out of your face, the way your lips upturn into the most stunning smile he’s ever had the fate of encountering, and he really hopes he doesn’t get h-

“Akaashi-kun?”

(Fuck you and your completely gorgeous voice that drives him up the wall and makes him want to kiss you.)

“Oh– sorry, yeah?” He kind of hates himself for how his voice lilted a pitch higher.

You laugh, sounding like a goddess. He hopes that it means you don’t hate him. “Ahaha, I was just wondering if you have any ideas for the science fair? It’s a pretty big chunk of our grade, and I am… not the smartest when it comes to AP Bio..”

Akaashi thinks quite the opposite, but he isn’t currently in the position to contradict you.

“Um…” He pauses and thinks furiously. He comes up with some borderline generic idea that has enough room for a unique twist. And your eyes brighten.

“Waaaoo, Akaashi-kun’s a genius, hm?”

(God, he thinks he might have a little more than a crush on that teasing grin and glittering pair of eyes.)

He musters the courage to smile without looking stupid. “Of course.”

Two weeks later, he wants to sink into a hole.

Yes, it might have been his request that you two meet up to work on the project, but that was because he knew you were a procrastinator! You would start the project the night before if he’d let you!

But it was not his idea to do it at his house.

Now he has to live with the fact that you’re lying on HIS bed, spread-eagled in your sweater and shorts, complaining about how lazy you are.

(He wonders how you’re so comfortable about wearing shorts to a male classmate’s house. You two aren’t even that close, although you claim otherwise.)

“Come on, get up,” he rolls his eyes. “We have work to do.”

“But I’m so tiiiiiredddd… and lazyyyy…. wouldn’t it be such a gentlemanly act of Akaashi-kun to do the project for me?” You flash him a sweet smile while stretching out even more on the bed.

Snorting, he watches you sink into his mattress and roll around idly. “Hey, don’t you need the grade? You can’t pass if you make me do your work.”

Sighing, you hum in defeated content. “Well, it was worth a try.” You reach out your hand and tousle his wavy hair, and he almost flinches at the touch. He hates to say it but he loves it so much that you’re so affection with him, and Akaashi knows he would give anything to keep you teasing him with all this attention.

“Yeah.. yeah, it was,” he murmurs to himself before letting himself sit down next to you. He notices how you scrunch your body from a spread-eagle to a cute, curled up position to make room for him.

“Mm, so how are we gonna do this?” you ask, with a subtle mixture of bored and curious seeping into your tone. Then, he watches your features melt into a warm, mischievous smile as you hum, “Unless you just wanna nap and cuddle or something.”

(Holy fuck.)

Akaashi forces himself to scowl playfully and he shakes his head, sighing loudly in mock disappointment. “I don’t know what to do with you.” And equally as teasing, he adds, “I should just kick you out and not treat you to lunch if you’re going to be like this.”

“Noooooo!!!” you whine in this adorably frustrated and threatening voice. “Don’t you dare starve me or I’m feeding you to the rats.”

He chuckles. “See, that’s what I thought.”

But of course, your face wraps into a devilish grin as you say in a singsong voice and throw your arms around him (which makes him flush and makes his heart go WABAM), “It doesn’t matter though, ‘cause I got this whole-ass meal right here~”

“Shut up.”

(But you both know he never means it.)

Thanks to Akaashi (and your obliging albeit lazy participation), you two blow the science fair out of the way and get an A. He’s never seen you so delighted about a grade.

“I’m so happy~” you never shut up about how grateful you are for him, not that he’s complaining. “This is probably the highest mark I’ve ever gotten in this class.”

“Don’t over exaggerate. You’re not too bad at Bio,” Akaashi remarks. “You just need a tutor, probably, if you’re struggling.”

(By the way, he is ecstatic that you two are ACTUALLY FRIENDS!!! He’s even met your dog!!)

“Hmmmm…” You eye him warily before shrugging. “Whatever you say, Akaashi-kun.” Your eyes flit around before returning on him, and you start rambling about the newest anime you’ve gotten into and how it’s practically on-par with the manga, and how hot one of their characters are-

(For some reason Akaashi really zeroes in on that part.)

He really feels like he has to contribute something to the conversation, so he puts in, “Wow, [Name]-san, you’re such a fangirl.”

You snort loudly and put two peace-signs to your face like some kawaii anime girl, doing this mock-sweet smile. “Waaaooo, you’re rightttt. I’m Akaashi-kun’s number one fan!! He’s so cute when he’s yelling at me to do my work and super hot when he helps me with homew-”

He swears to god his face is radiating an inhuman amount of heat and he rolls his eyes before shaking his head and jabbing your side lightly. “Didn’t I tell you not to say that?”

“Ummm, maybe.” Your ‘innocent’ grin tells him otherwise. “But you know, you’re right, Akaashi-kun,” you cross your arms and give your cute little smirk again. “I am a genius, and I’m suuuper good at Bio. I just need someone to channel it.” And you lean forward until both your noses are touching, and Akaashi thinks he’s about to explode. “So maybe you could help me out?”

The subtle pleading undercurrent in your voice compels Akaashi to straighten up a little bit without flushing even redder. Keep cool, keep cool.

(He prays that his skill of keeping a poker face will hide the blood rushing around in his dick.)

“Well, what time?”

This time around, he finds himself at your house instead. You both are sitting at your desk, ‘working’ on your math and Bio homework. In other words, just talking.

He’s confident now in that the two of you are close friends. He’s learned that from afar, you were a sweet and confident yet perfectly kind girl. That was the girl he based his feelings off of. During your Bio project, he found the cheeky, sly and vibrant yet chill girl who always teased him but was still nonetheless sweet.

And now, under that facade, you were an anxious mess with a shit-ton of insecurities.

(He thinks it’s funny how you boast that you’re just like Shrek. You have layers.)

Akaashi glances at you, groaning with your head down onto the table. “I hate math..” he hears you grumble.

“Hey, you’re not too bad. You just have to be careful when plugging in your equations,” he counters.

“But what if I can’t remember my equations??”

“We both know you’re fine at remembering them.”

“I’m gonna fail.”

“Have faith in yourself, because I do.” And Akaashi is being completely honest. His confidence in you being just fine and being able to pass all your classes is strong because he’s seen you work (after procrastinating). “You just have to work on not putting things off until the last minute.”

You make a frustrated noise before resting your chin on your propped hand. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just.. destined to be set back, y’know? Like, everything I do is gonna somehow backfire on me.”

He knows the feeling, especially late at night in bed, stressing over what tomorrow might bring him.

“And like… I have this whole thing set up for me. When people know me as a classmate, I’m an average student, right? Then when we’re like… ‘friends’, I’m all weird and tease-y.” You let out a loud sigh. “And to the unlucky people who get to this stage, I’m a mess.”

“Stop.” Akaashi’s surprised at how firm he is. “I’m grateful to have met you and to have become your friend, [Name]. You’re going to be fine, you need to trust yourself more. Because I trust you more than anything.”

(Yes, he is on first-name basis with you!! Yes, he trusts you even more than he might even trust Bokuto!!)

Your lips twitch into a small smile, one that he’s grown to love and adore. He’s confident that he’s so fucking deep in love and he doesn’t know how to move on. “You really think so?”

“Of course I do.” He flicks some crumpled-up post-it at you. “Since we’re not doing any homework anytime soon, what else do you want to talk about?”

Your gaze becomes a little more shy and nervous. “Umm… Weeell, I need help.”

“I mean, why else would I be here?”

“No, seriously, Keiji-kun. Seriously!!” You throw mock-fit, despite obviously looking anxious.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening. Sorry.”

“Uh. Um, so…” You blink and pretend to look focused on doodling on the corner of your math paper. “There’s this dude I like. Like, I reaaally like him, which is surprising even for me.” You laugh a little bit, and as Akaashi feels his heart start to tear in half, he forces out a chuckle to match. “He’s suuuper pretty– I think that’s the word for it? Pretty. And he’s kinda funny in his own way, and he’s really sweet and listens to me all the time even when I don’t deserve his time. And I dunno, I think he might like me back? Also, I really really really like him. But I don’t really know how to confess…

“Because you know, I’m kinda wack like that, haha. I’ll probably screw up the confession and make things worse, and, well, I need help.” You finish your ramble with a loud breath and you collapse your head onto the table, groaning.

“Uh–” Fuck, oh fuck him, fuck his life. “I mean… I think just a heartfelt confession would do? Something simple and sweet that says you really like him, in case somehow your words don’t work.” Akaashi feels like he’s sweating, a lot, and he feels even more frustrated than ever. His heart is crashing against his ribcage, and his mind is a fucking mess.

You frown a little bit, and suddenly a gush of words fly out of your mouth like a stream bursting from a dam. “Oh my god, what if I’m reading the signs all wrong and he doesn’t at all like me back? I mean, I wouldn’t blame him because I’m kinda ugly and have this weird personality thing going on and I’m shit at math and Bio-”

“Stop.” Akaashi forces himself to intervene, mainly because 1) you’re literally the light of his life and 2) he feels like he has to leave really soon after dealing with the news. “Shut up, [Name]. You aren’t ugly at all, and I, for one, enjoy your weird personality. And I already told you, you’re fine with academics.” He makes himself make eye contact with you, peering up from your arm covering your face, and says, “If he rejects you, he isn’t worth your time at all and you should move on.”

(Preferably with me.)

He watches you exhale, like he just unwound a tight spring from inside of you, and your shoulders relax and you melt from your anxious state, just a little bit. “You’re right. If.. if he doesn’t feel the same, I’ll just forget about him.”

“Because you’re a genius.” Akaashi tries to hype you up, but he still feels like crumbling. Falsely checking his phone, he stretches and stands up. “I have to go now, sorry. My mom asked me to pick up my little sister from tutoring.”

“Huh, already?” Confusion flits across your face, and it hurts him even more to just leave you after you confided in him, but he knows he has to leave before he says something he might regret. “Oh, okaayy.. see you tomorrow then. Thanks for helping me out.” You yawn before standing up to hug him goodbye.

“No problem.” He says it casually, but Akaashi feels his mood drop faster and lower than ever. He hugs you back, but he breaks away fast.

After leaving your house and collapsing onto his bed in his locked bedroom (with his 11-year-old sister knocking on the door and curiously asking what’s wrong), he can’t help but feel hurt that you couldn’t even tell him who your mystery crush’s name was.

A week passes by, and neither of you mention the conversation at your house. It doesn’t matter either way, since you two are still so casually best friends. At the same time, he desperately wants to push the matter just to find out who it is.

Otherwise, Akaashi has noticeably been more quiet and moody to the point that he doesn’t know how to control it. Sure, he keeps up the same as he would before your conversation, but he can’t help but feel his heart sink everytime he sees you. His mind is ecstatic every time he talks to you, while simultaneously wanting to tear itself apart.

He’s tried getting rid of feelings for you, in literally every way possible. From avoiding thinking about you (which backfired horribly because he ended up thinking more about you) to focusing on other girls (ew, none of them were even capable of creating the same effect on him as you do), he’s tried it all and it’s all failed.

Akaashi realizes his silent slump has gotten so bad to the point that Bokuto made him sit out a few practice matches in the gym just because Akaashi was nowhere near the spot that any of the team expected him to be at.

After school, he meets with you near the vending machine as always. You buy two cans of coffee, one for you and one for him.

As soon as he takes the can gratefully, you clear your throat.

“Yeah, [Name]?”

Glancing around before staring him in the eye, you start, “Keiji-kun, before you run away, I just…. I just wanted to let you know I really really really like you. Like, a lot.” You start speaking kind of fast, so Akaashi can’t process what you’re saying.

“And I mean it. Ever since the Bio project, you’ve been so nice to me and you’ve been such a great friend even though I made it hard sometimes, and along the way I just caught feelings. You honestly mean everything to me, and I appreciate you so much for everything we’ve been through. I- I think, I love you, Keiji. And I hope you accept my feelings.” You smile, almost nervously but nonetheless sincere, and Akaashi thinks he’s about to explode.

“I- I,” Fuck, oh my fucking god, he thinks to himself. He’s shaking a little bit– that’s how happy he is. “[Name], I..” God fucking damn it, he can’t even express how happy he is. He feels his cheeks blossom and he feels his lips quirk into this goofy smile.

But then he watches you shy away a little bit as you hurriedly say, “I- I mean, sorry. It’s okay if you just wanna be friends-”

“No.” Finally, Akaashi can use his mouth and then he gently takes your cheeks in his hands and closes the gap between you two, lips connecting in a display of pining and affection.

He practically melts into the kiss, he’s never been so happy. He thinks he’s actually about to implode; he’s been dreaming about kissing you like this, against your soft, plush lips. And finally he’s able to call you his, to call you the one. When the two of you finally break away for air, he’s breathing hard and his mind is a mess, which is rare considering his usual stoic state.

Akaashi has also never seen you so flustered and blushy. He murmurs into your ear as he takes your hand, “Feelings are 100% reciprocated.”

“I can tell,” you laugh breathily, and he’s so happy to hear that some of your anxiety has dissolved in that sweet kiss. He’s absolutely infatuated with you in every aspect. He leans in for a soft, quicker kiss on the lips and savors the feeling of warmth he gets. “Dork.”, he whispers.

“Only for you.”

[imgoingtohellsofuckit]

Cocky Hero pt 5

Hawks x Reader

Warnings - none read the previous parts tho

Summary - Time for the date with Hawks

part one   part two   part three  part four 

After your normal Thursday cooking class you went home. Heading to bed without spare anything a second thought. Your life felt like it was normal for a second there. You woke up to a couple texts from your coworkers but not Hawks. And it didn't even cross your mind until you got to work and realized he had been silent since last night.

"He's probably still asleep," You day softly, "I'm sure he's fine."

"Who's fine?" Impression asks.

"Oh just talking to myself," You say.

"Right," he says, "so a bunch of us are going out tonight. Wanna join us?"

"I'm actually going on a date tonight," You tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Who?"

"Uh just a friend," you tell him, "it's nothing serious. Honestly I think it's just to get me in their bed."

"Right," He says, "okay well then. That's exciting for you I guess."

"Only a little bit," You chuckle, "hey listen I've got a bunch of reports to work on. So if we can continue this later."

"Of course," he says, "okay well I'll let you get back to it."

He moves off to his desk. You sit down and pull your phone from your purse only to see Hawks still hasn't texted you back.

"Weird," You say. You decide it's best to leave it alone. Maybe he's busy. No need to make it into a big deal. So you decide to get to work.

Hawks was busy. But not with any hero work like he should be. Instead his focus was on the date. Planning a dinner to butter you up, then a nice park stroll, then finish it off with a kiss- nothing more. Just to keep you holding on. He was going to win. And this date was a key part of taking back his lead.

He might be amused with the preparations but the poor assistants at his agency were not as amused with the situation.

"Hawks you can't work your assistants to death for something that isn't agency related," Mirko says slightly amused to see her friend working so hard for a date.

"I'm about to lose," Hawks says, "and you know what I never do. Lose."

"You never lose?" She asks, "I beat you at chess a week ago-"

"I never lose when it matters," He corrects, "and this game matters."

"Are you talking about that stupid thing with Y/n?" She asks, "is this what this is all about?"

"She has to fall in love with me," Hawks says, "or I lose."

"Why do you care so much?" She asks him, "it's a girl. Not Like it's anything important."

"Winning is important," Hawks says simply.

"Whatever," Mirko says, "honestly I'm just surprised you haven't gotten bored of her yet."

"Bored? Of her?" He asks, "you don't know her then. Seriously she's one of the most interesting people I know. I mean she isn't as interesting as me but- she's up there."

"Oh?" Mirko says.

"Yeah she's really cool she takes cooking classes and did you know she used to write about how the negatives in hero society so she's not just some fangirl," He says, "she's calm and she doesn't treat me like a god because I'm number 2."

"Oh so you're in love with her?" Mirko teases.

"No no I'm not in love with her," Hawks says at once, "she and I are friends. Simple as that."

"Friends who hook up all the time?" She says smirking, "admit it you're love sick." Hawks rolls his eyes at once. Not wanting to feed into the idea. He simple turns back to set everything up. She picks up the flowers. "Daisies?"

"Yeah," Hawks says.

"Aren't roses a little more romantic?" Mirko asks.

"Yeah but trust me daisies are better," Hawks says, "don't you have something better to do then bother me at my own agency?"

"Yeah okay whatever."

So she leaves and he returns to preparations. He can't remember the last time he tried this hard for a date or if he's ever tried this hard for a date.

Hawks- You better be ready for tonight                A date with Hawks is guaranteed to get you to fall for me

Y/n - yeah?           I highly doubt it           I'm excited for the free food

Hawks -    -_-

Y/n - I'm kidding           Kinda

Hawks - Wanna meet there?              Or I can pick you up

Y/n - I'll meet you there

           Can't have the public knowing

Hawks - true

Y/n - ive got to get back and finish this stuff so I can leave on time. I'll see you later. xx

Hawks - I'll see you then beautiful

He smiles down at his phone. She's going to love this date. She's going to totally fall for him and he's going to win the game.

As your work day ends you rush home to get ready. You go through the works. The long shower, shaving everything. The classic pre date routine. Once out of the shower you dig in your closet. Yanking through all of your date outfits. Nothing looks good. Nothing is good enough for this.

"It's just Hawks," You say as you toss your 5th dress onto your bed, "it's not like I'm going with someone who matters." You chuckle lightly. Then you move pulling up another dress. "Okay this is it." Next you work on your hair and your makeup. Moving through the movements. You go on dates all the time. Sure none of them have ever been in a situation exactly like this but it's not like it'll be that different. You chuckle lightly. Now all you have you have to do is show up. With one last look over your outfit you decide you are ready to go.

You grab your purse then press your hand against the wall. Once at the restaurant you see like any other Friday night it's pretty packed. All of the people also on their dates. You wonder lightly if he's going to meet you out here with all the other people waiting or if you should ask the hosts. Then again you thinking telling the host that you have a reservation that might be under the name Hawks then well you'll look ridiculous. Your phone buzzes. You look down at it to see it's Hawks.

Hawks - Tell the hostess that you are with Tamaki Raven

Y/n - your fake name?

Hawks - yep

               she'll take you back to the table

Y/n - Mkay

You slide your phone back in your purse and move walking to the stand where the hostess looks through her book.

"Reservation?" She says not even looking up at you. You smile lightly.

"Tamaki Raven," You say softly, "I'm meeting him here." She looks you up and down. Knowing that Hawks is Tamaki Raven and knowing you're going to be with him. The look just tells you that she doesn't think you deserve it or at least she doesn't believe it.

"We've been asked to ID his guest," She says. You hand over her ID. Again she doesn't seem convinced. However she can't exactly stop you since everything matches.

"Can I go to my table now?" You ask her.

"Right," She says, "follow me."

She moves leading me through the restaurant. The private room is all the way in the back and has a door blocking everyone from looking in. They made them for situations like this. Heroes going on dates or visiting. Safety for not only the heroes and their partners, but also for the citizens.

Finally she pulls open the door. I move past her to see the sandy blond locks and cocky smile.

"Hey Hawks," You say brightly.

"Hey beautiful," Hawks says standing to pull your chair out for you. You take your seat and he moves sitting back down at the table. The hostess shuts the door behind her as she leaves, giving Hawks and I the room alone.  "You look nice."

"Thanks," You tell him, "I did the works."

"Just for me?"

"Well I need to keep your expectations of me high," You tell him smirking lightly, "I can't exactly win your heart not looking my best." He chuckles. I smirk lightly as I look over him. "Speaking of looking someone's best- you look amazing." It's true. He's cleaned up. Not wearing his hero costume or some random tee and jeans. Instead he's got a nice suit on.

"Why thank you," He says, "only for you."

"Mm I like the sound of that," You tell him. The door opens and two wine glasses are set before us and the waiter pours the red whine for each of us.

"I ordered us some wine," He says, "I figured we'd both enjoy that." He smirks as I grab my glass. "Hard day at work?"

"No not really," You admit, "for once it was actually calm... it's terrifying like some calm before the storm bullshit."

"Calm doesn't have to mean bad," He offers.

"No in my agency it does," You sigh, "I'm waiting for Mimic to text me and tell me he accidently committed arson- yes before you ask yes that did happen- and then I'll have to spend all weekend doing damage control." He chuckles.

"Busy life," He tells me, "I get that. I mean I'm a hero thats as hectic as you can get."

"All parts of it," You sigh, "but I can't sit and wait for it to explode. Ya know."  He nods. "I'm sorry I'm complaining I know that doesn't make for a good date."

"No it's fine," He says, "I asked and I want to know."

"You are really sweet sometimes," You say smiling at him, "you know that?"

"I think I'm always sweet," He says, "but thank you." You both chuckle lightly.

"How was your day Hawks?" You ask him.

"Oh same old same old," He says, "hero business. Spent the day working with my bird buddy."

"Bird buddy?" You ask.

"My intern from UA," He explains, "have you guys got yours yet?"

"Shit no we invited ours to start Monday," You grown, "I remember because I had to send a 100 emails yesterday about office edict while we have children here."

"Woah what happens at Impressions agency?" He asks, "sex stuff? Drugs? Hookers? Strippers?"

"No none of that," You say shutting him down. He looks slightly disappointed that none of it was right. "our agency has a lot of people with transformation quirks so they move around fucking around with each other and well a lot of the time it gets a little x rated. And well Kami always makes a point of that." He chuckles. "So you have an intern. He keeping up with you?"

"As much as he can," Hawks says, "I am very fast."

"Oh yeah?" You ask.

"Yeah I might just be the fastest man on earth," He says obviously trying to show off.

"I think I might just be faster," You say.

"Oh come on I am so much faster than you," He says.

"You are not faster than me!" You exclaim, "I got her in a second what about you huh?"

"Okay your quirk is cheating," He says.

"No it's not!"

He starts to argue back but as the waiter comes over to take our order he drops it. We both order our meals and then turn back to our conversation.

"So your cooking class- I thought it was random but then I remembered that I've never seen you cook," Hawks says, "whats that about?"

"You're acting like you've known me for years," You chuckle, "you haven't really been around enough to see if I cook or not."

"Well do you?" He asks.

"Not really- I'm terrible at it hence the class," You explain, "I'm queen of takeout with a bottle of wine. Do you cook?"

"Don't really know how," He admits, "ya know the whole 23 year old guy who can only kinda take of himself thing." You chuckle.

"Right right," You say, "you can't cook anything though?"

"Instant ramen," He offers. You start to laugh lightly.

"Maybe I should bring you to my class," You tease, "all though you'd have to not sit with me wouldn't want the cute guys in the class to get the wrong idea."

"What? I'm the number two hero your street cred would go way up," He says, "come on I'm the coolest."

"The fact you just said 'street cred' unironically proves you aren't," You tell him, "besides you'd totally love the babes in the cooking class and you don't want them thinking we are together."

"I mean I don't know it would make them jealous and a jealous girl in bed is always entertaining," He says smirking lightly. You nod along lightly. "Plus if it made you jealous- it would be so hot."

"Oh would it?" You ask chuckling lightly, "wow I'm glad you are a perv."

"Oh baby you know it."

You both laugh lightly as the waiter places your entrees down before you. You thank the waiter before he moves off. Hawks looks at you curiously.

"You've thanked him like 6 times now," Hawks says.

"The service industry is hard," You tell him, "I worked as a waiter throughout high school and college and it literally sucks ass. So I thank servers and hostess a hundred times and leave nice tips. You should thank them more."

"I should," He admits.

"Didn't you have some job growing up?" You ask him. He tenses lightly.

"Uh no," He says, "didn't have much time to work with school."

"Yeah I guess that makes sense not many hero students actually have jobs do they?" You ask him, "well at least they didn't at UA."

"No they have us focus on the future," He says hoping that what he's saying makes sense, "with all the internships and stuff like that we didn't really have the time."

"Well you missed out on a rite of passage for most people," You tell him, "pretty much everyone has that terrible teen job that makes them realize the customer service industry deserves the entire world."

"Where did you work?" He asks me.

"Oh at a Udon place by the UA college campus," You share, "it was small but always packed with college and high school kids. I was one of the best of course."

"Always the best."

"You catch on fast," You say smiling bright, "it was a annoying Job but I actually really liked it. But I enjoy my current job a whole lot more."

"That's good," He says. You move stabbing into your meal.

"You know we talk about me a lot," You say, "when do we get to talk about you?"

"What do you wanna know?" He asks.

"What do you do when you aren't doing all of this?" You ask him, "your hobbies? Something that isn't breaking hearts or hero work."

"Oh well I like to sit relax," He says, "ya know I go so fast so on the rare times I get time for myself I just stop. Take a moment to relax."

"Rare times? You never seem busy anymore," You chuckle.

"This free time isn't really normal for me," He admits, "I've kinda been pushing most of my free time to hang out with you."

"What really?" You ask him. He nods.

"I like hanging out with you," He says honestly, "it's been really fun and I mean I haven't had fun like this in a while. Even if it's just for the game." He moves rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Not very play boy of me huh."

"No it's not but it's nice to see you being honest," You tell him, "not everything we do has to be all flirty ya know. At this point I think we can call ourselves friends."

"I don't know if I can be friends with someone who's sleeping with me," He says. I roll my eyes lightly.

"What a shame," You shrug, "I guess we will just have to stop sleeping together."

"No no," He says, "perfectly fine." You smirk lightly. Moving back to your food. Slightly amused with the fact that Hawks enjoys hanging around you. If you're being honest you love hanging out with him. He's fun. And what would you even be doing on a normal Friday? At a nightclub until you find you entertainment for the night. Some sleezy guy who you won't remember the next day.  "Okay you didn't tell me your hobbies," He points out, "what do you do for fun?"

"My cooking class, yoga," You tell him, "but most of the time it's a bottle of wine and some overrated movie."

"My kinda girl," He says, "that should be our next date-"

A wave of panic runs through his body. Next date? Why is he talking about next date? This isn't even a real date.

"Next hangout," He tries to correct.

"Next date?" You ask him. A wide smirk across your face.

If he could dive out the window he would. His face is bright red and all he wants to do is scream.

"You thinking that far ahead?"

For the first time he doesn't appreciate your cocky attitude.

"Well I just-"

"For our next date we can totally hang at mine and watch terrible movies," You say, "I'd love that."

He sighs in relief. Suddenly a lot less nervous. However his face is still red. You notice it deciding to move and place your hand on his.

"Relax I was just messing with you," You say attempting to calm him down. He smiles softly.

"So it's a plan?" He asks. You pull your hand away.

"If you don't fall in love with me before hand," You say.

"Oh trust me I won't fall in love- you should be worried about yourself tho," He says. You roll your eyes as you pull your hand back. Moving to your dish. The conversations continue through you both finishing your meals.  

"So your place or mine?" You ask him.

"No no no the park," He tells me, "I have a plan trust me."

"Okay," You say as he moves collecting the check. You watch as he writes a generous tip.

"Okay so can you make a portal to the park down the street?" He asks me. You nod pressing your hand to make the portal. You both step through it into the park.

You look around noticing its empty. If Hawks was anyone else you'd be pretty freaked out about being in a park alone with him.

"Okay so I need you to trust me," He tells me, "alright?"

"I don't know," You say, "I might have to just ready my taser."

"You have a taser?"

"I'm a woman who lives alone yes I have a taser," You tell him, "don't make me use it on you."

"Kinky," He says with a smirk. You scoff lightly. "Come on just walk with me." He links his arm with yours and leads you through the park. Finally we get to the gazebo it's decorated with  Christmas lights. You chuckle lightly.

"You steal this from Pinterest?" You tease him.

"Yes," He says he smirk drops, "was that a bad idea?"

"No it's cute," You say to him, "a little cheesy but I like it." He smiles.

"Good because I was really scared you wouldn't like it," He admits, "I'm not the most- romantic apparently." He moves away from my side to step under the gazebo. He moves pulling flowers from underneath one of the chairs then offers it to me. It's a bouquet of daisies. "Here you go."

"Daisies?" You ask him, "you remembered."

"I'm pulling out all the stops for tonight," He says brightly, "just like this." He moves grabbing another thing from under the chair. You move forward to see its a speaker. He messes with if for a second then a slow song starts to play. He sets it down then turns to me with a big smile. "Wanna dance?"

"Of course," You say. He offers a hand to you then leads you under the gazebo. You move placing your hands on his shoulders as he gently places his hands on your waist. He leads. He's actually not bad. In fact he's kinda great at this. You wonder if in school he danced with girls at dances like this. If he did the fact he's been mostly single his whole life is mind blowing. You move resting your head on his shoulder. You are enjoying the moment. He's so gentle. So caring.

Hawks couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Something kept drawing him back to look at you. His mind amplifying every small touch and gesture.

As the song ends and you start to pull away his mind shuts off and his body takes over. Tilting your head up moving into a kiss. You were shocked at first but slowly melt into it. Holding onto him tightly. Both of your minds melting to nothing but the other.

You break the kiss. Pulling away biting your lip at the loss of sensation.

"Hawks...."

He stays silent. His eyes looking past you.

"Hey Hawks," You say softly.

"I have to go," He says at once. Before you can say anything he's flying off leaving you in the gazebo alone.

"Hawks?!"

It's too late. He's gone.  You scoff grabbing your flowers and open the portal from below your feet to disappear.

"Mm I knew he was lying," A low voice says as a smirk widens across their face. "Oh poor little Keigo Takami. You're little girl is going to get hurt because you can't be careful.

[typewriterghcst]

Title: Leave Us Your Stardust Rating: G like all my other fics l m ao Characters: Natoru, babby Lune, Natori. Mentions of other characters. Words: 2730-ish Summary: The World can be quite an intimidating, tough place for a seven-year-old, particularly after the sun goes down for the first time. Written for the 2020 TCR Birthday Bash, in particular the ‘Ghosts’ prompt. Notes: This is chock full of headcanons regarding these three, particularly during Lune’s childhood, so uh. Hopefully someone else finds this interesting or amusing like I do orz I will admit I’m hesitant on Natoru’s portrayal here because I’m not sure how most people interpret her (or him, if you prefer the dub, aha). I haven’t gotten the chance to write her that often on my RP blog, so this kinda feels to me like jumping headfirst into a shallow pool

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Natoru plays a lot of roles. She is at once first-line defense and confidante, exorcist and companion. She weaves wild stories and tall tales while battling and eradicating the monsters that manage to sneak out of their imaginary environments to threaten her little ward’s security. She takes care of spiders and hornets. Checks the closet for less rational pests. Peers under the bed each night to shoo out the monsters, too.

It’s because of this, she thinks to herself later once her wits finally arrive, that she ends up being very gently nudged awake by a visibly shaken charcoal-colored kitten in the middle of the night during an extended visit to a neighboring but distant kingdom (the queen’s original home, in fact, a detail that still brings Natoru no small amount of confusion).

“...Natoru..?” Lune sounds hopeful but timid.

“Ehhh.” It’s vaguely questioning, she rationalizes, if a little muffled. She hasn’t quite found the motivation to lift her face from her sleepy haze just yet.

“Can I… can I sleep in here?”

“Why do y’ wanna sleep in ‘ere..?”

Lune fidgets, plays with the edges of his sleeves. “...be… because there’s a ghost in my room.”

Oh. It takes at least a solid minute for that childish (albeit straightforward, she’ll give him that) reasoning to sink in, but once it does, Natoru realizes she’s not getting off the hook that easily. Finally resigning herself to being awake and active again, she hauls herself up from her face-down, torpid position and searches for Lune in the darkness, rubbing at her eyes sleepily.

“Should I go throw him out?”

It takes Lune some time to answer, and when he does, he stares down at his feet as he speaks. “...N-No. I’d rather just stay in here.”

“Eh? How come?”

“...b-because… um. What if… what if the ghosts here are stronger than the ones at home?”

“There are no ghosts stronger than me,” Natoru brags. What a more sweet-natured, maternal cat might have claimed only in the interest of reassuring Lune, she seems to wholly believe, and not for the first time it becomes obvious just why the kitten has taken such a shine to her.

“Really..? How do you know?”

Natoru doesn’t falter, patting her chest with one paw and planting the other on her hip.

"Because I'm the strongest," she answers matter-of-factly.

Lune, still standing at the edge of the bed she'd chosen (though now noticeably with a straighter posture than before), seems to spend some time thinking that over. Finally, hesitantly, he says, “But this isn’t home. What if the ghosts here are stronger than the ones you know? What if the dark makes them stronger?”

Natoru pauses thoughtfully, but ultimately shakes her head. “Nah. I’ve been all over, Lune. And I was born in the human world-- it gets dark there, too. Still no match for me~” She gives him a sunny smile, patently cute as it always is because of her soft, chubby face, but the undercurrent of chaos can not be denied.

What had been a gradual and noticeable decrease in his fear appears to reach a plateau; Lune is convinced, his tail and ears perking back up.

“I’m so grateful! You’re super cool, Natoru!”

“Yep,” Natoru agrees as she hops off her bed to join him on their trek back to his room.

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Lune begins to trail behind her the closer to his guest room they approach, but she neglects to comment on it. Instead, she tosses the beaded curtain in the doorway aside like a particularly bothersome obstacle, and strolls inside. In stark contrast, Lune tiptoes in behind her, looking furtively from one corner of the room to the next as if he expects to be ambushed. (Well, perhaps he does.)

“Okay, Ghost, you had your fun!” Natoru starts as boldly as she can, paws on her hips. “How’s that one song go? You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here! It’s bedtime for Lune.” Then, a little quieter but just as determined, and in a smug tone that shows she absolutely relishes saying it, “And if you don’t listen, then I’m gonna kick you in the head.”

To Lune, she adds, “That’s another great song. Recommend it.”

“It’s about kicking monsters in the head..?”

“Yeah,” Natoru says with a cheerful, heedless shrug.

The two of them are met with a stifling silence afterwards, as Natoru expected, but still she waits for Lune to give his approval. Creeping out from behind her, he pads softly further into the room, one, two steps at a time, again scrutinizing the corners. In the end, he doesn’t turn directly to face her, most likely mindful of the darkened void beneath the bed behind him, but he does look back to her.

“...will you check the bed and closet too..?”

“Of course.”

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It’s after he’s tucked back into his own bed that Lune asks, “It gets dark in the human world?”

“Every night.”

“How long does a night last?”

Natoru pauses there. 

“...I don’t remember.” She does remember it feeling quite long sometimes, though. It doesn’t seem pertinent to tell Lune. “Time feels different in the human world.”

“How so?”

Again, she pauses, this time in thought more so than in uncharacteristic caution.

The truth is, she thinks, maybe it’s not that time feels different in the human world, but simply that she had once been different. A long time ago, before she came to the Cat Kingdom. Those memories are odd— they don’t fit like they should. She thinks sometimes it may be akin to trying to play one of Natori’s beloved records in a CD player. 

“It’s different because you can tell time has passed just by looking around at the sky and the ground, but it doesn’t actually feel like time has passed. It’s disorienting.”

“The ground changes, too?”

“Yeah!” She chirps. “Sometimes it snows, or it rains. Then you get mud. That stuff’s tons of fun.”

“I’ve seen pictures of it,” Lune starts thoughtfully. “It looks messy.”

“Mm. Natori would have a fit if you discovered how fun it is, too.”

“Maybe I’ll get to play with it, too, then. Someday.”

“Probably! You’ll have your own adventures in the human world, eventually.”

“I hope so,” Lune starts. “It sounds like such a funny place.”

Whatever Natoru might have planned to say to that, no doubt to agree, to tell him of the other oddities abound in the human world, it’s lost in obscurity, as, of all cats, Natori seems to see fit to enter at that time, peeking in through the beaded doorway with a look of subdued disapproval. In some distant part of her brain, the part that’s always faintly amused at her coworker’s finicky quirks, Natoru briefly entertains the idea that perhaps he’d been supernaturally summoned by the talk of mud.

“What on earth are the two of you doing awake at this hour..?”

Natoru answers easily enough, tone blithe as ever. “Don’t look at me, Lune’s the one who dragged me out of bed ‘cause of a ghost.”

Judging from Lune’s offended expression in return, he’s not at all appreciative of his idol throwing him under the bus. Natori, also, regards her with a disapproving frown, paws settling at his hips. To herself, Natoru thinks his current countenance lines up pretty solidly with that of the quintessential, matronly governess.

“Natoru, don’t go blaming your foible on the child.”

“But he did wake me up because of a ghost,” Natoru protests.

It’s at this exchange that Lune’s indignation seems to fade, so that he appears relatively chastened, shamed. “...I’m sorry, Natori, I did wake her up for that.”

Natori seems to… deflate, almost, padding to Lune’s bedside with a sigh. “It’s nothing that warrants an apology, my prince. You’re in no trouble.” Then, while busily straightening the crocheted blanket atop the comforter, “...another ghost, then..?”

Lune’s embarrassed silence says it all, he supposes. So it appears then that Natori decides to move past it without comment in response. A phase, he tells himself, brought about by recent stressors, and one that will fade as they do.

“Well. It is quite late, and there’s an early morning ahead of us all. We should all be more rested, you know. This isn’t the night for tall tales.”

“Hey, speaking of, how come you’re awake, Natori?” Natoru starts shrewdly.

An inquiry the grey cat was clearly not prepared for, as his first response to it is to open his mouth to voice his answer… only to close it again with a light snap once he realizes either he has no suitable excuse or that that suitable excuse is tremendously weak in theory.

“...It’s not important,” he eventually settles on, formal, demure. Leaving precious little room for followup clarifications, though he must know by now that such a thing will not stop Natoru.

“Natori, have you ever been to the human world?” Lune asks.

“Yes, occasionally,” Natori replies, head canted just slightly in curiosity at where Lune’s evident investigation is going.

“Do you have a favorite thing about it?”

“A favorite thing? Well, let me think…”

After a moment, all too aware of Lune’s expectant gaze on him and doing his best to ignore Natoru’s amused, knowing stare (yes, Natoru, he realizes he’s being massively hypocritical right now), Natori seems to decide on, “I suppose I’d say it’s probably the scenery— er, the variety in it, in particular.”

Lune nods excitedly. “The variety! That intrigues me so much, Natori. I’ve seen the pictures of the  forests and mountains and the oceans— they’re all so huge, Natori, aren’t they? I can’t imagine how big the human world must be to have multiple oceans in it..!”

“I do imagine it must be hard for you,” Natori agrees indulgently with a laugh. Then, a touch diffidently, “...having seen but a fraction of it myself, I must admit it’s rather difficult for me, as well, at times.” His attention wanders to Natoru, who is still lounging propped up on her paws on the end of Lune’s bed like a proper house cat. She wears a thoughtful, somewhat faraway expression, and he wonders what it is she’s thinking of. But, unobtrusive and respectful as ever, Natori doesn’t pry. Instead, he asks, “Did you shoo out the ghost, then?”

Natoru snaps out of her apparent reverie, nodding a time or two and waving her paw in disregard. “Oh, yeah, he’s toast.” And to Lune, “I scared him off, didn’t I?”

“Yup! You said you’d kick him in the head if he came back.”

Ah, that earns her another long-suffering look from Natori, though he doesn’t voice his disapproval this time. Natoru just gives him another of her patented sunny smiles.

“...Well,” Natori starts readily. “If that’s the case, I think that’s enough ill-timed chatter to last us the night. Morning will arrive before you know it, and I’ll not oblige any requests to sleep in.” Spoken while gently tugging the comforter up over Lune’s shoulders, now that the crocheted blanket has been righted.

“Can I ask one last question, Natori?”

“Yes,” Natori answers primly, somewhat absently, if his concentration on Lune’s already straightened bedcovers is anything to go by.

“It’s about the human world again.” And there Lune hesitates, at least until Natori gives another acknowledging noise. “I keep reading about... how big the human world is, and you and Natoru say it is, too. And— and all the stuff that’s in it, things you can’t see here. Do you think… I mean, because it’s so… There’s so much in it, so do you think… someone could go there, but eventually run out of things to see?”

His voice has lowered to be so soft his two companions nearly miss his question in its entirety, and it along with his insistence on keeping his gaze glued to some indeterminate spot to his side tells them both this line of questioning is not just a child’s rambling, all-encompassing curiosity. Because of this, it seems the two of them struggle for an answer for some time— one that must be reassuring and optimistic, but also can not conclusively discuss the issue. It hasn’t been named yet; it has yet to be spoken aloud to Lune, and it is not the place of the royal advisor nor their vaguely-defined assistant to do so.

Paws lingering over the plush comforter where he’s folded it over Lune’s shoulders, Natori finally replies, timidly, “...Anything is possible.” 

“Sure, there’s a lot to see. But nothing beats good old home,” is Natoru’s helpful addition. “A cat’s bound to get homesick at some point.”

Lune doesn’t respond for a few long minutes, but neither Natori nor Natoru move to prompt or hurry him, even when the silence begins to feel acutely oppressive, and Natoru almost wishes a real ghost would break the tension. Eventually, however, Lune gives a very small sigh, and his attention wanders from his earlier inconsequential spot to Natori’s face. It’s not quite his more usual bright and inquisitive demeanor, but it’s at least a step away from the nervous reserve he’d been exhibiting just moments before.

“...I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Yes. It’s certainly a fascinating place, but it’s no Cat Kingdom. The comforts of familiarity compel all of us to look homeward at least occasionally.”

Lune seems to think that over for a moment, glancing down to the hem of the blanket covering him once (Natoru thinks he must be imagining his own bed back at home, and his colorful bedroom, eternally bathed in sunlight). This time, when he looks to the two of them, it’s with a decidedly more self-assured air. 

“Okay! So I’ll stay as familiar as I possibly can!”

Natoru laughs— she can’t help it. It’s such an endearingly straightforward conclusion to come to. Natori, however… she notices the way his expression tenses, the conflicted, nervous debate he must be waging on the inside. Lune has taken away the wrong message from all this, and it should be addressed and amended, but... it’s only getting later, and Natori had entered the conversation with a chiding lecture about the late hour. He looks tired, too, Natoru notes to herself, probably a crucial trigger for his indecisiveness.

“You got it, Lune,” she decides to chime in, pushing herself up onto her haunches now. “But I think it’s time to stick a fork in this one, because I’m ready to go back to dreamland.”

Lune’s eyes light up further. “Oh! Maybe I’ll dream of the human world.”

“Maybe!”

Natori seems to just accept this abrupt left turn in the conversation in his usual yielding way, but he does see fit to add, in a soft tone that comes perhaps dangerously close to pleading, “...Lune… it’s all well and good to desire to remain... recognizable, but…”

There he dithers for some time, at a loss for what he wants to say or how to say it, most likely, as he utters numerous false starts before finally appearing to give up. Instead, lips straightening to a thin line, he fixes the kitten with a sort of wistfully helpless smile, and gives a comically uncharacteristic shrug.

“...Well. It’s late, as we’ve all pointed out. Goodnight, my prince. Now that your room has been cleared of its phantoms, please don’t dawdle on your way back to the Land of Nod. The sun will rise before you know it.”

“I won’t, Natori.”

Natori inclines his head once in wordless approval as he turns to leave, gaze also lingering meaningfully on Natoru (one she again only returns a blithe smile to), before he leaves in much the same natural way he’d first arrived. Natoru takes the opportunity to hop off Lune’s bed and dust herself off, though even her own reasoning for doing so escapes her. Lune, meanwhile, appears somewhat thoughtful, if distantly uncertain.

“Is it really so close to morning? I’m sorry for waking you, a-and for keeping you up all this time.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll let you in on a secret, actually—” Here she glances behind her to confirm that Natori has, indeed, left, before continuing in a hushed but shrewdly amused manner, “I know Natori said he wouldn’t let us sleep in, but just keep in mind that what your dad says goes, and he hasn’t seen a morning in years.”

And so it was that Natoru gained another point from the child prince to set in her ‘cool’ pile.