#or at least a decent cushion space

[clonehub]

"why does the fandom complain so much!!" do you see what we've been getting

[curiousquirks]

Late Nights on Concrete (+18)

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Non-Penetrative Sex, Grinding, AFAB Reader, AFAB Dialogue Used, Fingering, (Slight Non-Con Exhibistism) but normal Exhibistism too, Pet Names Used (Princess), Dabi’s an ASS, Unsafe Sex, Humiliation, Non-Consenting Unknowing Sleeping People in the Room 

Word Count: 2,831

Summary:

“Better be quiet.” He whispered, taunting you. “Since you didn’t want it, I’ll just help myself.” | Dabi decides your ass pressing against him while trying to sleep in this rundown building the League decided to camp out in was driving him crazy. Might as well use you to get himself off, but don’t worry he’ll handle it himself since he’s such a gentleman.

Your feet stumbled into a dusty run down building, almost tripping on debris as you moved to bring your shirt up to cover your face. Echoed complainants can be heard as the rest of the League members follow behind you. You quickly move over to the window on the opposite side of the room, using your other hand to open it. You begin uselessly waving the dusty and gross air towards the window, cringing as you scrunch up your face in disgust.

“This place is awful!” Toga whined, pulling her sleeve to cover her hand before trying to wipe off the chair she found in the corner. “Why can’t we ever find decent places to stay in.”

“Shame we can’t stay in hotels, on account of how suspicious we all look.” Sako mused, moving around the shack as he inspected everything. “And the lack of funds too, of course.”

“I don’t see contributing anything to help.” Shigaraki countered Sako's rambling, dragging himself over to the couch no one wanted to go near before throwing himself onto it. “Stop bitching.” He mumbled into the couch cushion beneath him.

“At least this place has a roof.” You joked, nearly coughing as you moved to open more windows. “Last one didn’t.”

Toga pouted as she tried settling into the chair, crossing her arms not intending to get up to help at all. “I’m still upset that I didn't get to go into town this time. How come Spinner got to go?” She whined, using her foot to push a board nearby away from her. 

“It was our dear leader’s idea.” Sako answered, perching himself onto the counters nearby. 

“You’re just upset because you finally got told to stay behind for once.” You taunted before you started kicking the debris near the walls to give everyone more space. 

“I am not.” He defended immediately, implying that he was upset. “I just think that my quirk is quite beneficial in getting supplies for the whole League.” He lifted his hand up, rolling marbles between his fingers to show his point. 

“And I see staying behind doesn’t prevent you from still finding ways to get out of helping.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. 

“Toga isn’t helping you.” Sako shot back, removing his mask. “Neither is Shigaraki.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You said shooting a glare towards the couch. “Dabi wouldn’t help if he was here either!” 

“Wouldn’t help with what?” Dabi’s voice was heard from the open front door. “Nevermind, I see why you need it. This place looks like shit.”

“That’s what I said!” Toga added, still pouting in the corner.

“Great more useless bodies in my way.” You complained, continuing your thankless work of moving shit out of the way.

Dabi moved closer to you when your back was turned. “Maybe if you asked instead of bitching and assuming you’d get it, people would actually help.” Dabi's voice was loud as he spoke next to your ear, nearly causing you to jump. “Not that it’d do too much for this dump.”

Shigaraki flipped himself over on the couch, now laying on his back. He threw his arm over his face. “Surprised you decided to show up for once.” He mumbled, mostly to himself. 

“Only listened to your updates because you guys ended up in an area near me.” Dabi responded, leaning himself against the wall. “Didn’t want to deal with any of the shit in town nearby.”

“I thought it was because you missed us!” Toga shouted from across the room, grinning. “Come oooon, admit it!”

“Definitely not the case.” Dabi responded, keeping his eyes glued to you the whole time. “Your crazy asses are too much to handle.”

“Yeah right.” You laughed, tossing a piece of concrete near him. “You get lonely, just admit it.”

“Really making me want to stay.” Dabi said, pushing himself off the wall. “I’ll hang outside until you get done cleaning up.”

“You could help, fucker!” You shouted, throwing another piece of concrete towards him. You watched as it collided against the door frame, breaking apart. You sighed, glaring towards Sako before pulling out your best customer service voice and innocent face. “Can you please help me, Mister?”

He immediately fell into character, placing his hand against his chest. “Well, of course my dear. Why didn’t you ask sooner?” He responded before hopping off the counter.  

You eventually convinced Toga to help you as well, which allowed all three of you to get the building more suitable before the Spinner and Twice came back. They didn’t get much, just enough to allow you guys to get some food for at least a day or two, and some random supplies to make it more comfortable. That night you all made do with what few supplies you could scrounge up. A few blankets, coats or layers of clothing was the best anyone could get aside from the couch that Shigaraki seemed determined to keep to himself. No one wanted to fight him for it anyways.

You stuck close to Dabi for the night, especially since he greedily took one of the better and biggest blankets. He wasn’t going to complain about having you pressed against him either; the floor wasn’t that comfortable and that meant that your tits squeezed against his side as you cuddled closer. Using him as a temporary body pillow was definitely better than that hard concrete floor. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but you had it better than Spinner who was forced to be a pillow for Twice not 5 feet from you. 

Dabi couldn’t stay asleep though, not with the various mixture of snoring and outside ambience making him regret not just passing out in some shady back corner in town. He immediately felt your body move from him, your half-asleep self turning around so your back faced him. He glanced over towards you, the moon light shining through the windows giving plenty of annoying illumination to the room. You placed your head against your curled arm, making a make-shift pillow. You murmured something to yourself, pressing yourself against Dabi’s side. His interest peaked, probably only because nothing else was happening right now since he couldn’t sleep. 

He flipped onto his side, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you closer so you were fully against him. You gave a noise of content as you wiggled your ass against his crotch. He pressed a kiss against your neck as he pressed his quickly hardening cock against your ass. You grinded back against him, letting out a soft moan as he pressed more kisses against your neck. His hand reached down, slipping under the waistband of your pants as he pressed two fingers against your clothed cunt. The friction of his fingers barely brushing against your clit, nearly getting you to moan. A wet kiss placed near your ear had you biting your tongue as a shiver went up your spine. 

You cracked your eyes open, trying to turn your head back to look at him. His hot breath was against your ear, making you feel even hotter. 

“What are you do–” You began asking before he cut you off.

“Shhhh…” He whispered harshly, moving his fingers to pay more attention to your clothed clit. He made rough circles against your sensitive bud, moving his hips against your ass making his cock even more apparent. 

“Not now…” You harshly whispered, not really putting a lot of effort into removing his hand from your pants. 

“You like it though, don’t you?” He whispered against your ear. You could practically feel the grin he was giving you. He could read you like a book.

He removed his hand, and you had to bite back the whine that nearly left your throat. He moved back away from you and you almost thought he was actually going to leave you alone. Before you could even decide if that’s what you actually wanted, you heard a zipper being undone. Your eyes widened and you moved to turn your head around, because you knew exactly where that sound came from. Dabi’s hand was quick to push your head back down to the floor though, his hot breath on your ear again.

“Better be quiet.” He whispered, taunting you. “Since you didn’t want it, I’ll just help myself.”

“Wha–” You started questioning before you felt your pants being yanked down roughly. You clasped a hand over your mouth to catch yourself before you made any loud noise, your eyes darting to the various figures sleeping in the room. Everyone seemed clocked out from what you can tell.

You felt his slender fingers rubbing gently against your slit before your underwear was slid to the side, giving him access to your dripping cunt. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to fuck you senseless, just not in the room with everyone sleeping. You squeezed your eyes close as you felt his cock slide against your wet folds, his tip rubbing against your aching clit. You pressed against him, trying to meet his rocking hips. His warm hand slid its way under your shirt, instantly digging his fingers into your breast. 

His hot breath hit against your neck, as you heard his breathing pick up behind you. The friction against you was intoxicated, feeling a spark of excitement like you two were in your own little bubble. His hips moved quicker into yours, the muffled noises of his cock sliding effortlessly against your lips from how wet you were made your face burn. His hand massaged the skin of your breast as he angled his hips slightly, making you bite your bottom lip to contain any noise. 

Your eyes were wide open now, darting towards the various people in the room making sure they were all still asleep. Your face was burning, all the way to the tips of your ears. You begged no one to wake up, and thankfully Twice’s loud snoring was covering up any sinful noises coming from under your blanket. 

“You feel fucking good.” He whispered against your neck. “Doesn’t beat your pussy though.”

You reached your hand up to grip the arm under your shirt, digging your nails in. “Shh…” You harshly whispered back. “Please…”

“Don’t act shy.” He whispered, his hot breath right against your ear. His fingers started pinching your perk nipple, twisting it as his tongue ran along the shell of your ear. “Not when you’re this wet.” 

He grunted when you pressed down against his greedy cock, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. It was louder than you thought he’d make and your eyes darted around the room again, but once again thankfully no one seemed awake. Your eyes fluttered close as that coil tightened, curling your toes as your nails dug into his arm more.  If you were in a more sane mind you might’ve thought about how dangerously close you were to biting your tongue.

Dabi’s composure was more ragged; his panting and uneasy breath fanning hotly against your ear. His fingers were digging roughly into your breast, warmth uncomfortably spreading against your skin. The friction was sharp but perfect. You were close. Nothing else existed, not right now. You wished he just got over himself and shoved his cock into you instead of driving you crazy with this intoxicating game of his. You didn’t even remember there were people in the room.

You noticed his sputtering hip movement before you felt the hot spurts of cum coat your aching cunt. His sigh and body collapsing behind you felt like a slap to your face, his hand lazily leaving your body. Your clit twitched painfully, the coil sinking in your gut as you laid there feeling violated and unfulfilled. The snoring sounded louder suddenly, your ears burning as you felt movement behind you as Dabi adjusted himself back into his pants. The aching feeling left you with immense irritation, which allowed you to awkwardly flip around to face Dabi.

He pretended not to notice, laying his head against his arm. You shoved him roughly before hitting his abdomen. “What the fuck was that?” You harshly whispered. 

“I said–” He replied slowly, acting like this was a casual conversation before you interrupted him.

“Shhh…” You harshly responded, but quietly. 

You didn’t see him roll his eyes. “I said I’d help myself.” He responded, quietly. 

“That’s it?” You responded before you could stop yourself. You rubbed your legs together. You really wanted his smug ass face underneath your pulsing and twitching cunt right now. He could clean you off too.

He turned on his side, his face suddenly really close to yours. “Thought you didn’t want it.” He said, making sure to move his lips inches from yours. “Change your mind, princess?”

“Beg.”

You stared intently into his eyes; his striking and annoyingly beautiful eyes. Fucking asshole. Without breaking eye contact, and slightly awkwardly, you shimmied out of your pants and underwear. He stayed completely still, even when you bumped into him a few times, a smirk growing on his face the entire time. A small rambling comment from Spinner had you pausing only briefly before you realized he started snoring too. 

You propped your bent knee on top of his hip before guiding his hand in between your legs. Your eyes glanced down towards his lips as your fingers dug into his arm. His fingers were hovering barely above your slit and your hips instinctively moved themselves towards him. They barely brushed against your clit as you let out a small gasp. 

He pulled his hand back slightly. “I said, beg.” 

“Please…” You whispered, barely brushing your lips against his. “Touch me…”

“Why? Use your words.” He taunted.

“Wanna come…” You whispered, your face burning again. It felt humiliating. “Come on, Dabi, please.” 

His fingers finally touched you and you felt like you could collapse into a puddle on the floor. He smeared his cum over your slit and swollen clit. “Can’t even tell what’s mine.” He commented softly, grinning at you. “You’re practically dripping onto the floor.”

 

“Stop it.” You hushed him before he continued making more lewd comments. “Shh!” 

His fingers dipped inside your entrance causing you to press your lips against his to mask the moan. He wasted no time pumping his curled fingers inside of your cunt, your body practically pulling him. You pulled back from his lips, your soft pants just inches from his face. 

He moved his head so he could whisper into your ear. “Listen to how fucking loud your pussy is, huh?” He teased, purposefully making his fingers force those dirty squelching sounds from you. “Be quiet, princess, someone might hear.”

Your hand moved up to grip his head, forcing his head back down away from your ear. You smashed your lips together, gripping onto a fistful of his hair tightly. He was infuriating but you’ll be damned if he’ll get you caught by not shutting the fuck up. A muffled squeak was swallowed when he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You bit back a moan as he pressed against that sensitive spot, his hand creating friction against your clit.

You rocked your hips against his hand, that coil tightening again. You pulled back from him slightly, his teeth catching your lip as you pulled back. He bit down but you roughly tugged his hair. He let go right as he pushed you so close to the edge. He saw it on your face too, your mouth was slightly open, a trail of saliva connecting you two, as your fingers started letting go of his hair. You pressed your face into his shoulder suddenly as your orgasm slammed into you. 

  

“Fuck.” You harshly muffled into his shoulder, staying there for a moment before you collapsed against the floor. 

Your heavy panting was your main focus as Dabi shoved your leg off. He flipped back onto his back, letting his head fall to the side so he could look at you. You weren’t paying attention, but you didn’t have to. You just knew he looked completely fucking pleased with himself. Smug bastard. You took the chance to take a glance over at him. You were right. You rolled your eyes as you started the awkward process of putting your underwear back on, the cool feeling of the damp fabric pressed against your still warm cunt caused a shiver down your spine. You half-assed putting your pants back on, having them barely over your hips before you heard Dabi make a comment next to you.

“You’re welcome.” He whispered before moving his head back, placing an arm under his head.

You rolled your eyes again and turned roughly onto your side so your back was to him. You moved your arm underneath your head and adjusted the large blanket before shutting your eyes. This was good enough, you wanted nothing more than to attempt to sleep now and ignore his arrogant ass behind you.

[sulumuns-dootah]

26.12. Leviathan - Banquet for two (18+)

    ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

    ༺☆༻

The halls of the Hades castle are so eerie during the night while everyone is away. Or at least somewhere else in the castle. More precisely in the grand hall where the annual holiday banquet is thrown. Everyone who means something is there. Guests from Hades as well as all the other countries in Hell. Everyone except for the king of Hades, Leviathan himself.

You were excited for the banquet. You've even had a dress made specifically for this occasion. But instead of everyone talking about how gorgeous it is, everyone is discussing the absence of Leviathan. Not to sound dramatic, but it's like you're almost invisible since someone who is not there is more important. As if the guests didn't know how much Leviathan hates being around other people.

With a slight irritation you decide to leave under the guise of bringing Levi some food. If someone's absence is more interesting, then why not be absent too? Leaning to your side to Glasyalabolas, you let him know that you'll go check up on the missing king. He hands you the plate which was meant to be eaten from by Leviathan after putting a portion of the king's favorite fish steaks on it.

So now you're walking through the halls to Leviathan's quarters. Originally you thought about just going to your room and eating the steaks yourself, but you kinda feel bad for the king. The heavy expectations laying on him to be social despite having a severe agoraphobia. No wonder he spends most of the time hiding away in his rooms.

When you finally reach the door to his room, the air suddenly turns cold. The knocks on the massive doors resound in the empty hall. After a short while a voice beckons you to come in.

The room is colder than in the hall and quickly looking for Leviathan, you find out why. One of the windows is open and he's sitting in the windowsill, looking out on the city covered in snow. It's already dark, but the street lamp light bounces off all the white and creates a glow on its own.

“I've brought you some food, your majesty. Your absence is the main topic of discussions.” you say with a hint of bitterness.

“Then why aren't you out there gossiping too?” Leviathan answers without even looking your way.

“I was bored. No matter how important those devils are, they can't uphold an interesting conversation if their life depended on it.” you sigh and set the plate on the windowsill right by Levi's legs. This seem to finally break him from the trance of the glowing white cityscape and he looks at you.

“That's a lovely dress. I want a shirt made out of that fabric.” he says plainly and moves to sit with his back turned to the outside, burning you with his gaze.

“Sure, I'll let the seamstress know.” you say, happy that finally someone noticed.

“Say, you were bored at the celebration, would you maybe keep me company here then? I'm certain I can uphold a decent conversation much more than those fools.” Leviathan jumps off the windowsill, taking the plate with him to the bathroom. You follow him, uncertain what will happen, but as it turns out, he's decided to enjoy his fish steaks in the comfort of his thankfully empty bathtub. You wouldn't want to get your dress wet if he invited you along into the bathtub too.

But it seems just that happens. Leviathan sits down on one end of the marble tub with plenty enough space left for you and the volume of your dress. The many layers of tulle help cushion the hard surface. Levi places the plate down between the two of you and starts eating. The steaks look good, but you know your manners and don't take any unless he offers you one.

None of you speak up until the plate is empty. Leviathan then sets the plate outside of the bathtub and reaches out to feel the material of your chiffon shawl, ”Such a soft material. It must feel even better constricting around my neck. Would you do that for me?”

“Uhm... Excuse me?” you blink, startled that he would request something so intimate from you.

“I believe I made myself clear. But I understand if that's too straight forward of me.” he sounds a bit disappointed. As if shrinking back he rest his back on the bathtub edge and leans his head on the rim with closed eyes, “If that's all, then you can go.”

“N-no, you majesty I would feel honoured.” you're quick to take off the shawl and scrunch it up into something resembling rope. Hopefully it's strong enough.

“Good, then get to it.” Leviathan opens his eyes and lifts his head back up. With slightly shaky hands you wrap the delicate fabric around his swan neck. At first you're unsure if you should really be doing this, but if his majesty wishes to be choked, then who are you to question him.

Remembering the stories from demons who were punished for choking him lightly, you try to choke him with all your strength. Hopefully the fabric can withstand such abuse. It seems that Leviathan's pleased with the amount of air he's depraved of, as evident by his eyes rolled back and growing erection.

“T-tou...ch... me...” he demands in a gasp for oxygen when you allow him to take at least some air in so he doesn't suffocate for real. His demand makes your heart race even more. Is he even thinking straight at this point? Before you have any more questions, he grabs your free hand and places it on his now painful boner. Or so you assume, with how much heat it radiates.

You're quick to free him of his constraints to uncover his throbbing and already leaking dick. It makes your mouth water, but just like the fish steaks before, you weren't invited to taste it. Only to touch.

Almost instinctively your hands starts to glide along his shaft, making him gasp for air more franticly. Playing with his tip, collecting more of his precum has him thrusting into your hand, desperate for more friction.

It feels kinda weird to have this much power over the king of a whole kingdom. Have him fully at your mercy. Normally in this situation you'd be also aching for release, but something about this scenario has you feeling like you've already come multiple times.

Slightly distracted, you don't notice your hand loosen up the tension on the shawl around Levi's neck. “T-tighter... s-so... close..!”

Realising your mistake you tug the fabric more tighter than before and that seems to be enough to push Leviathan over the edge. Spurting ropes of milky cum all over his belly and getting some on your dress. If it were any demon you'd be furious, but since it's His Majesty Leviathan, of course you forgive him.

“Not bad, but I still suppose I should teach you how to properly choke someone as there are some mistakes you've made.”

    ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"I suppose I should gift you with a noose, just like all of my other subordinates. Yet I feel like a necklace would suit your neck much more. "

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total $hit$how: Punching Bags

in which Benji realizes he's in over his head.

cw: violence, abusive training methods, threats, adult/crude language

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×~×~×

Wandering the base hadn't been nearly as fun as Benji had hoped.

It was mostly just empty government-style hallways and locked doors. So many locked doors. Made even more frustrating by the fact that the locks all looked easy as shit, and if he tried, Benji could have any of them open in a matter of seconds. Maybe all of them. He wondered how long it would take him to open every door in the facility if he was really trying. Ten minutes? Fifteen? There was always the chance that a locked door would just lead to more locked doors, but that wasn't really fair to count against him.

But… he wasn't going to do that. No matter how bored he got here. Normally he didn't care too much for following rules, you couldn't make a living as a thief if you did, but Sahota's all-but-outright-stated threat made him think better of it.

If he messed up here, he would go to jail.

He'd already been there briefly, while waiting on a trial, and that had been… significantly less than fun. Benji imagined a state prison would be worse, especially if he was in for literal decades. So, fine. He'd be a good boy and do what he was told, even if their mission sounded made up.

There were a few doors that weren't locked. A decent-sized kitchen and adjacent dining hall. A computer lab that doubled as a small library. A huge, open room with cushioned floors that Benji assumed was the training area.

Eventually, Vic found them and showed them to their rooms. They were down a hall, behind yet another locked door, but Vic gave them keys for this one. 

There was a room for each of them, thank God. Benji would lose his mind if he had to room with one of these doofuses. Joy and Jericho seemed alright, but he never trusted a first impression. Kaius was a classic arrogant rich boy, probably turned into an asshole by parents and teachers who constantly praised his intellect. And Harbor seemed more than a little unstable. The kind of guy who'd snap and stab you in your sleep if you looked at him wrong.

Sure, he'd learn to get along with them; he got along with everyone given enough time, but sharing a living space was a different story.

The rooms were small and impersonal. A little bland for Benji’s tastes, and if he weren't fresh out of a jail cell he might've complained more. It was late, and he was tired from all the new information that had been chucked at him throughout the day, so he fell onto the bed before doing too much poking around.

The next morning, at seven sharp, they all filed into the training bay as instructed. Everyone else was wearing a set of dark gray workout attire.

Shit, did he not get the memo? He hadn't bothered to dig through the drawers the night before, and had just changed into the same clothes he'd worn yesterday, minus the fishnet undershirt. Now he was standing there in a crop top, looking ridiculous.

When Harbor stumbled in, ten minutes late and wearing the same rumpled shirt and oversized jacket he'd had on at the briefing, Benji didn't know if he felt better or worse.

On the one hand, at least he wasn't the only one who'd goofed. On the other, he didn't want everyone else to start grouping him with Harbor.

“I see most of you found the training uniforms.”

Benji turned around. Sahota was walking into the room, his face impassive as ever though his tone was full of irritation.

“Right, sorry,” Benji said. “Maybe give us better instruction next time instead of running off? Even just a note could work. Oh, or those little instruction pamphlets that come inside board games, that would've been a huge help—”

“Is this just a game to you, Ruebin?”

Benji gave him an exaggerated wince. “No," he said "I can honestly say that me staying out of prison is a very serious matter. I'm just saying—”

“Then shut up and pay attention.” He sauntered to the center of the group, leaving Benji to throw an exasperated look in Joy’s direction, which she answered with a small grin.

In his experience, the quickest way to bond with someone was by complaining about someone else.

Sahota unzipped his jacket and cast it aside, then turned to face them. He was… actually kind of hot, even if Benji was reluctant to admit it. Warm brown skin and lean muscle. Scars running up and down his arms that served to add an edge to his look, and a tattoo of something—a hawk? Some kind of bird—curling along the side of his neck. His dark hair was cut short at the sides and allowed just enough length to curl at the top, and his eyes were framed by thick lashes. If the guy wasn't such a prick, he might’ve tried to chat him up.

“Today we'll be doing some sparring," Sahota said. "I assume most of you already have some combatives experience, but I'll need a firsthand look to see if your skills are adequate.”

Joy raised her hand. Benji found it adorable how she kept doing that, like a kindergartner excited to learn. 

“So you're going to watch us fight each other?”

“No,” Sahota said. “You're going to fight me.”

Shit. Benji raised his hand. “Ah… exactly how important are these combatives?”

He was more flight than fight. Hell, not even that. As long as his jaw was working, Benji was a talker. He'd avoided countless black eyes and broken bones through simple verbal de-escalation. The few times he had been dragged into a scuffle hadn't gone very well for him.

“It's a matter of life and death.” From anybody else, that would've sounded like a joke, but Sahota was dead serious. “Each potential target will be swarming with guards. If you end up cornered, really cornered, it'll be a fight to survive. Understood?”

Benji swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Shoes off. Vic doesn't like the mats getting scuffed.”

Benji crouched, unlacing his boots with a heavy sigh. This was gonna suck, wasn't it? Maybe he should just volunteer to go first and get this over with—

“I'll go first if that's okay,” Jericho piped up. “Might as well get it over with.”

Oh, son of a… well. Great minds think alike and all that. Benji scooted away from the mat, eyes on his brand new teammate as the man stepped up and came face-to-face with Sahota. Their handler smirked—if you could call it that. It was a half-smirk. Quarter smirk. Barely noticeable at all.

Jericho was nearly a head taller than him and twice as wide, all nervous smiles and beefy arms as Sahota sized him up.

“Alright Davis. Come at me.”

“What, right away?”

Sahota hit him.

Nothing devastating, just a little pop on the jaw, but Benji physically cringed at the blow, and Jericho staggered back in surprise.

“If you're caught in a fight, you can't hesitate,” Sahota said. Jericho gave a sharp nod and swung on him, but the smaller man dodged the blow effortlessly. 

“If you don't have skill, you'll need to make up for it with speed. If you know you're cornered, be the first to strike.”

He sidestepped another blow from Jericho as he spoke, sending a sharp kick into his opponent’s ribs.

“You're strong, Davis, but too slow.”

Jericho lunged at Sahota, making to grab him, but their handler dodged that too.

“And you're holding back.”

“I… I don't want to hurt you,” Jericho said, sounding a little winded.

“Your enemy won't feel the same.”

Sahota dropped to the floor, moving quicker than Benji thought possible as he took Jericho’s legs out from under him with a sweeping kick, then pouncing on the bigger man when he hit the ground, wrestling him into a chokehold before he could react.

Jericho tapped out, and Sahota let him up. The whole thing was over in under two minutes, and their handler wasn't even breathing heavily.

Maybe it was a better strategy to go last, when Sahota was the slightest bit tired out. If he got tired at all. Even then, Benji really didn't like his odds.

“I'll go next,” Joy said, stepping up to the mat as Jericho trudged back to his spot on the floor, one hand on his ribs. Benji threw a sympathetic look his way, or rather, a can you believe this guy look.

“Begin.”

Having apparently learned from Jericho’s match, Joy lunged right away, dropping a knee between Sahota’s legs and thrusting her body forward, driving them both to the ground. The move seemed to have taken the man by surprise, but he didn't stay that way for long, engaging with Joy before she could throw an arm around his neck. The two grappled for a moment, but Sahota came out on top. Benji wasn't overly shocked as he released the defeated Joy.

“Not terrible,” he said. “But against a larger opponent you wouldn't stand a chance.”

“That's what guns are for,” Joy panted.

Kaius went next. Small as he was, he was surprisingly good at kicking, and actually almost landed a blow. Benji felt a little vindicated when he didn't, even more so when he was swiftly put into a chokehold. If Kaius was the first one to match Sahota, Benji had the feeling he'd only get smugger.

With Kaius beaten that marked three fights won, and Sahota didn't look the slightest bit tired.

“Are you ready, Harbor?”

“If it means I get to punch you.” Harbor shuffled over to the mat, hands stuffed into the pockets of his oversized jacket. His multicolored hair, buzzed on one side and long on the other, gave the appearance of a parrot sitting on his shoulder. A feral parrot. Who'd been caught in a particularly bad storm. His height matched Jericho's, but he was scrawny, with a build like the kid from the chocolate factory movie after he'd been stretched by the taffy puller.

“Begin.”

Harbor darted forward, closed fist shooting out and… and actually catching Sahota across the chin.

Their handler seemed just as surprised as Benji was. Of all the people to land a blow, Harbor had got it first?

Sahota recovered quickly, dancing around the next few jabs. Harbor moved like a drunk monkey, slouchy and swaying, but he was fast.

What had he said at the briefing? He had some kind of biotech implant that made him quicker? In that case, completely unfair. Benji hoped he wouldn't have to fight him.

On the other hand, having Harbor on his side in a fight would be a plus. Even after Sahota had landed a few hits of his own, the taller man hadn't slowed down, the half-crazed smile on his face spreading with every blow. 

Which was more than a little bit unsettling. Benji once again found himself glad he didn't have to share a room with the guy.

After what seemed like forever, Sahota managed to get him on the ground, wrapping an arm around his throat and squeezing, the finishing move that had ended every other match.

Only Harbor didn't tap.

His face was contorted into a snarl, blood dribbling down his chin as his hands clawed at the arm around his neck. His upper lip was starting to go purple.

“Sahota…” Jericho said. “I think he's done.”

Their handler didn't move.

“Sahota.”

Harbor's jaw worked soundlessly, his feet scraping at the ground. A sick fear settled in Benji’s stomach. He wasn't… he wasn't about to watch this guy die, was he? Sahota wouldn't go that far, would he?

His mouth fell open, to reason with the other man, to shout for him to stop, but words didn't come. Beside him, Joy jumped to her feet, striding forward. Jericho was already standing, looking like he was about to charge in as well.

“Hey!”

Harbor's arms fell slack at his sides, and Sahota at last let go, letting the other man fall limp onto the mat as he stood.

Joy bent over Harbor's body. “What the fuck was that?”

“He'll be fine,” Sahota muttered. He was more winded than he'd been after his fight with Kaius, but his expression remained impassive. Not angry, or regretful, just… just a whole lot of nothingness. Like he didn't care at all. He was just doing his job, and he had no room for showing mercy at it.

And Benji was up next.

“Are you supposed to be training us or hurting us?” Benji said, finding words at last. “Is this really what Vic wants from you?”

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

Behind him, Harbor's eyes fluttered open with a groan. Joy offered him a hand, but he swatted it aside, staggering to his feet with difficulty. Sahota watched him limp away.

“You're quick, Harbor, but you're a sloppy fighter,” he said. “However, you're also the only one who didn't tap. Good work.”

“Good?” Joy scowled. “You're a shitty trainer if you think that's a good thing."

Sahota ignored her. “Get on the mat, Ruebin. You're up.”

Oh, fuck me.

Benji chewed the inside of his cheek as he pushed himself to his feet. Everyone here was a better brawler than him, and everyone here was already sporting bruises from their go with Sahota. No way would he escape unscathed.

“Go easy on me,” he said, trying to make it sound like a joke. “I don't even know how to throw a punch.”

“Begin.”

He knew he should follow the handler's suggestion and strike first, but Benji couldn't bring himself to move closer to his opponent. Sahota took a step forward, and he took a step back, hands half-up as if he'd actually be fast enough to protect his face.

“Maybe we should just—”

Sahota swung on him, and Benji jumped back with a yelp, barely evading the blow. Shit!

“Dodging won't always save you. What will you do when the door is barricaded? When you're trapped?”

That was where words came in. “Can't I just offer to go down on him?” he snipped.

Sahota answered with a jab to the jaw that sent Benji’s head snapping to the side, and he staggered backwards, losing his balance and landing hard on his ass. He scrambled to his feet as Sahota stalked towards him, holding his hands up in awkward fists, cheek throbbing.

His opponent spun on his heel, sending a kick directly into Benji’s side, which he accepted with a cry and a stumble, arms instinctively rising to protect his head, body panicking and not moving in the right direction quick enough.

“If all you're going to do is cower, you're never going to win.”

Benji grit his teeth, getting his hands back up. He flung a blind punch at Sahota, and was unsurprised when it didn't make contact. The other man took advantage of the opening, planting a heavy kick in Benji's stomach.

He crumpled, retching as the boot sent a spike of pain and nausea through his torso, up his spine. Sahota was towering over him, moving to pin him down—

“Wait!” Benji threw up a hand to shield himself. “Wait, wait, I surrender. Okay? You win.”

Sahota stopped. “You surrender?” he echoed, his voice low. An edge had entered his tone, and Benji didn't like it one bit.

“Your mission is to destroy top-secret equipment owned by a company with enough money to own you a thousand times over. Do you know what happens if you surrender?”

Benji searched for something witty, something he could throw out to defuse the situation, and came up empty handed. “N-no, I—”

He cried out as Sahota seized a fistful of his hair and hauled him to his feet, scalp set on fire by the sudden force, only half-aware of the shouts of alarm from the others.

“If you surrender, they'll want information. Who sent you. Why. They'll do anything to get it. And when you give it up, when you sell us out, Vic and I will do worse. Understood?”

Benji squeezed his eyes shut, nodding as much as the hand in his hair would allow.

“Good. Now stand up and fight—”

“I think that's enough.” Jericho was behind Benji. He hadn't heard him walking up. “Sahota, let him go.”

When he dared to open his eyes, their handler was glaring up at Jericho. But the grip in his hair loosened, and the big guy caught Benji as he fell backwards.

Sahota turned his back on them, silent for a moment. Benji imagined he was contemplating lunging for Jericho, then coming back to beat him up when the bigger man was unconscious. 

“That's enough sparring for one day,” Sahota said at last. “Take the next few hours to train as you see fit. Vic will be around to brief you on individual skill use later.”

Benji clung to Jericho as they left the mat behind. His ribs and stomach felt bruised, and his hands were trembling. Fuck, Sahota was good at making threats that shook him to his core.

“You okay?” Jericho asked, and Benji could only nod. Had anyone else caught what Sahota had growled at him? Did they know how fucked they were if they failed? It was probably better for the overall mood if he didn't tell them. Sure would do wonders for his if he could unhear it.

Sahota started to leave the room, but stopped just short of the door.

“I'm sure you all think I'm a monster,” he said, not turning around. “But when all this is over, when you survive it, you'll thank me.”

Benji watched him go with a barely-suppressed shudder. After today, prison wasn't sounding too bad after all.

[jordaninthevalley]

Stardew Valley Age Headcanons [Marriage Candidates]

I tend to put my farmer character at about 23/24 years old, so this is based off of that!

Alex: 21 His obsession with how he looks, him being unsure of himself, as well as his cockiness just leads me to believe that he is younger.

Elliott: 38 He is an older Bachelor alongside Shane and Harvey. He, clearly, had enough money to not only uproot his life completely to move to a small town to focus on his book, but to also had enough money do so without getting a job in town, leading me to believe that he has worked a long time to be able to afford this.

Harvey: 42 Another older bachelor. With the idea that he went into college right at 18 to be a doctor and spent eight years in school, making him 26 when he graduated. However, alongside the secret notes, him talking about getting older during one of his cut scenes, and just his general way of carrying himself while in a relationship with the player it does lead me to believe that he is older. That and the idea that he might be going through a midlife crisis.

Sam: 20 A relatively immature resident of the village, this is shown with the whole egg incident and the skateboarding incident. Instead of just automatically owning up to it or apologizing he tries to get us to take the blame or laughs it off. He hasn't learned to cook, instead of learning to do farmwork he just says if he knew more he would help, he is okay with being a sloppy, all of this just leads me to think he is younger.

Sebastian: 22 He is in a band with Sam and Abigail, which leads me to believe that he is around their age as well, but with his career in programming it does make me think he is at least a bit older.

Shane: 32 The last bachelor mentioned in Secret Note 7. Jas being his goddaughter leads me to believe he was at least a young adult when she was born.

Abigail: 19 The third member of the band, Abigail is a drummer. However, it's her relationship with her parents and the way that she fights with them is what leads me to believe she is one of the youngest villagers. That as well as the joke she makes if you win the game during her two heart event.

Emily: 23 A seamstress and a bartender, I feel like Emily is the older one of the two when it comes to her and Haley, and I feel like it is a decent age due to differences in maturity, how they treat others, how they treat their living space. I also believe this since it seems that she has been practicing her spirituality for a decent length of time.

Haley: 19 I feel like Haley is a somewhat fresh highschool graduate, still able to get away with her self-centered attitude and how she treats others because her age allows more people to give her some grace. The way she talks to the player is dismissive, rude, and insulting at times. The way she handles the whole "cleaning under the couch cushions" issue as well just leads me to believe shes younger and a bit immature.

Leah: 27 I place Leah as the oldest bachelorette due to similar things as Elliott. She moved from the city to the country to pursue her art dream while not having to work a regular job within the village. She has worked hard over the years to save up enough money to do this. Though we do have to help her when it comes to selling her art, and she does mention that it's hard to make it by as an artisit, she did used to live in the city as well as have a previous, serious relationship which just leads me to believe she has more life experience than most of the other marriage candidates.

Maru: 20 While she does work at the clinic, she is a front desk person. She is, however, very smart and dedicated to robotics and science as a whole. This leads me to believe that she's younger and possibly even in an online college of some kind even if that isn't mentioned in game. She is also younger than Sebastian, as she is Robins daughter and his Half-Sister, and Sebastian was from Robins previous relationship.

Penny: 20 Having Pam as her mother has made Penny mature faster than most people her age, which is why even though I do headcannon her as younger she can come off as older and more mature in her dialogue. Especailly since she is the teacher for the town. I do, however, think that she is either in the process of becoming a teacher or is looking to start it due to her love of children and wanting to help others.

I also have age headcanons for the other villagers, I might make a seperate post about that at a later date.

[pokemon-card-of-the-day]

Pokemon Card of the Day #3163: Alolan Muk (Team Up)

Alolan Muk continued the Muk tradition of being really annoying to deal with. This version wasn't quite as scary as some others as it was a one-time coming into play Pokemon Power doing it, but it could still have a decent impact if it hit the right cards with its effect. With stall tending to find uses for some really unlikely cards at times, Alolan Muk did seem to have some hope.

120 HP was actually solid for the standards of a Stage 1, though it was still low enough that you'd be relying on the deck's disruption more than the bulk to stick around. Alolan Muk was not a major target due to it just taking up Bench space once its Ability went off, so it didn't mean a whole lot. The Fighting Weakness wasn't too big of a deal unless you were using this in the SUM-On format, where Lycanroc-GX could get a KO due to that. The Psychic Resistance was at least a cushion against a reasonably good type even if said type tended to have no problem finding ways to break through. The Retreat Cost was 3, so Alolan Muk could be used as a way to force something to get stuck as the Active Pokemon to deny use of attacks on other Pokemon. It was also hard to fit a lot of switch into the types of decks that would use this card, so it was best in that stretch where there was no Guzma or Boss's Order available.

The Ability to use here was Adventurous Appetite. It worked when playing Alolan Muk from your hand to evolve 1 of your Pokemon. You could look at the top 6 cards of your opponent's deck then discard as many Item cards as you wanted to from those. The rest of the cards were shuffled back into the deck. This wasn't always going to be as useful as, say, the modern Miss Fortune Sisters hitting a Rare candy is today, but decks tended to run a ton of Items back then too. You'd usually discard a couple of cards, which could get you toward that win condition and something knock out something useful like a Custom Catcher are a way to accelerate Energy.

Poison Jab was pretty weak, and 80 damage plus Poison wasn't enough for 3 Energy.

Alolan Muk got a little use in UPR-On stall decks, most notably in a few lists with Cinccino. It was likely to at least hit some Item card, so it was rarely totally useless. The effect generally wasn't a main priority and there was only so much room for various forms of disruption, so a lot of people skipped the one-time shot at discarding some Items. It was still useful enough for some, so if this effect seemed interesting, you could make a good argument for making room for this card instead of something else.

[multi-lefaiye]

the birth of a son - short story

oh my god i forgot to post this here. anyway this is the short story i wrote recently about my boy eden <3 this is a lil thing all about the first time he summons/creates his homunculus, eddie!

eddie is a physical manifestation of part of eden's soul, in the form of a little imp with sharp lil teeth. he's cute <3

this is based in the original campaign eden was created for and specifically mentions the other players towards the end!

anyway. uh. i feel a bit awkward tagging the whole art taglist for this one oops, so i'm just gonna tag some folks i think would be interested :'> (no pressure to any of you to read this <3) (if you'd rather i not tag you in stuff like this, pls let me know!)

@skitzo-kero @anexor @moonflowerrss @paradoxspir1t @albatris @invaderskoodge @vacantgodling @jezifster @kk7-rbs @corvus-rose

--

After slipping away from the rest of his ragtag little group at breakfast, it takes Eden around twenty minutes of searching before he finds a spot in the fairgrounds to practice his magic.

He’d thought it would be easier, but it seems that everywhere he turns, someone on the staff is there, taking up valuable space while they mingle and chatter. They all seem nice enough, sure, but the consistent lack of privacy has Eden’s skin prickling with unease.

Of course, in the back of Eden’s mind, he knows he hasn’t had true privacy in some time now. Perhaps he never will again.

(He absently flexes the fingers of his right hand at the thought, feeling white-hot sparks of energy crackle between them.)

But now is not the time to dwell on that.

Soon enough, Eden finds a place to hide, a small nook behind one of the larger tents. Separated from the outside by a thin, beaded curtain, it’s hardly much at first glance: just a low bench with red cushions, a single table, and a lantern bathing the space in a warm, flickering light.

This must be a place for performers to wait for their turn to go onstage. It’s decently comfortable-looking, after all, and just out of sight. Or perhaps it’s somewhere for crew members to take a break, sipping a drink away from the hot sun. Maybe it’s-

He’s getting off-track. Who fucking cares what it’s normally used for? It’ll do for his purposes, and that’s what matters.

Eden lets the curtain fall closed behind him and takes a seat on the bench, ignoring the twinge of pain in his knees as he sinks down. The cushion is thick and comfortable, sinking only slightly under his weight as he gets settled. It almost makes him uneasy for reasons he doesn’t know how to articulate, but he chooses to put that out of his mind. That’s not important.

What’s important is the gem hidden in his pocket, a glimmering black opal. It’s small, only a little bigger than a marble, but it’s worth more than its weight in gold. If he were so inclined, he could sell this marble and, presumably, live comfortably for decades to come.

(At least, that was what that ringmaster fuck had told him when Eden had explained what he needs for this spell. He isn’t sure how much he trusts that fucking freak’s assurances on anything, but that’s not the point. Like the room and the strangely disquieting bench, the marble will work for what Eden needs.)

Eden takes the marble out, staring down at it as he rubs it lightly with one clawed finger. At first glance, the gem’s surface is smooth and inky black, but as he stares closer he sees flecks of other colors hidden in the darkness. Shining yellows, vibrant greens, burning reds, icy blues, and dozens more all swirling together. It’s beautiful, Eden supposes, but he’s never been a particularly good judge of that sort of thing. It almost reminds him of-

The thought dies a swift death before it can finish forming. He needs to stop stalling and letting his mind wander. He has work to do.

With that in mind, Eden holds up the opal, allowing it to catch the light from the lantern, and closes his eyes. Then, in a low voice, he begins to speak, the long-forgotten words falling off his tongue with practiced ease.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule.”

As he speaks, he feels the gem grow warm between his fingers, vibrating as each word washes over it. All at once, the air in the alcove seems to warm by several degrees, the air around Eden’s head swirling and churning with potential. Eden’s breath slows, and he opens his hand, allowing the opal to float slowly upward. He says the words again.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule.”

There’s a loud crackle in the air, deafening in the otherwise silent space, and something deep inside Eden’s chest aches. His heart is pounding behind his ribs, a trapped bird desperately trying to escape its cage, and for one brief, hysterical moment, he fears it’s going to burst. But rather than frighten him, the knowledge only sends a thrill through him. And he says the words again, one more time.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule!”

As he says the words one final time, his eyes fly open, glowing white, and watches as the gem pops. He feels a burst of agonizing, searing pain in his gut, strong enough to make him double over and bite back a shout, as the opal shatters in a shower of white and gold sparks. The flame in the lantern snuffs itself out, plunging the little nook in darkness, and all at once the air is still, silent, and cold.

Eden lets out a shaky breath. The pain is beginning to fade, but he rubs his abdomen for a moment nonetheless. It’s never hurt that much to perform this spell before, but he chalks that up to how long it’s been. After all, he last summoned the creature when he was still in university, finishing his doctorate.

“Doc?”

Eden lifts his head, eyes wide as he stares at the little creature sitting on the table before him. It’s small, just enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and looking up at him with its head tilted to the side. He can’t discern its features in the darkness, though, and that just won’t do. Almost unconsciously, Eden lifts a hand and snaps his fingers at the lantern, willing it to light again as he casts produce flame. It does so with a flash of gold, and once again the room is bathed in low, warm light. Despite that, it feels strangely cold.

He hardly notices, though, instead turning his attention to fully regard the creature looking up at him--his homunculus.

The homunculus looks different from how he remembers him, but at first it takes a moment for Eden to figure out what’s wrong. He looks mostly the same. Small, bipedal, with hind legs like a rat. Two nubby horns. Pointed ears. Mop of curly golden hair, hanging just past his tiny shoulders. Bat-like wings, connected to his forelimbs the same way. Sharp claws. Round, humanoid facial features. Short tail. Fluffy-

It’s then that it strikes Eden what’s wrong. The homunculus is covered in a fine layer of lavender fur, only broken up by patches of scales on his face and legs. That’s new.

The homunculus blinks at him, then smirks wryly as he tilts his head to the other side, like a puppy. “What’s wrong, Doc?” he asks, his voice just as high-pitched as Eden remembers. “You forget how to talk?”

He’s just as rude as Eden remembers, at least, and the realization is such a relief that he laughs, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“No,” he says, “I was just making sure you didn’t come out dangerously deformed this time. You’re no use to me if you die after five minutes.” The homunculus scoffs, offended.

“I’ll have you know, any problems in my physical form are your fault, as the alchemist in this situation,” he says matter-of-factly. “You should know that, Doc. That’s the first thing they teach you at that stupid magic college. Or did you lose your fuckin’ brain cells when you graduated?”

“I can send you right back,” Eden reminds him, reaching out to flick the little creature. “Don’t sass me, brat.” It’s an empty threat, and it seems they both know it, if the way the homunculus’ eyes light up are any indication.

“Yes, yes, go ahead!” he squeaks, flapping his wings as he swats at Eden’s hand. He seems to be balancing well, not swaying even slightly as he bats at Eden. “Waste the precious resources you used to summon me!” Eden reaches around to poke at the homunculus’ back, grinning at the indignant squeal he receives in response.

“Motor skills look good so far,” Eden hums thoughtfully. “And, clearly, not existing for 634 years hasn’t done anything to your cognitive ability.”

“Why would it have?” the homunculus drawls. “You look like you’re doing fine.” If he’s surprised to hear how long it’s been since he was last summoned, it doesn’t show on his face.

“Fair point,” Eden agrees. He knows the homunculus is created from the essence of his very soul, so perhaps it isn’t too surprising that the little freak is doing just fine. After all, occasional aches and pains aside, Eden’s been remarkably unaffected by his own resurrection. Though… if the creature came from his soul, is that why it’s covered in fur this time?

Perhaps the curse has more of a grip on me than I thought.

It’s a disquieting realization, but Eden puts it to the side for now. He has more pressing concerns, like catching up with the homunculus.

“Things have changed since you were last here,” he begins, reaching out one hand. The homunculus has the audacity to look offended, rolling his eyes as he climbs onto Eden’s outstretched palm.

“No shit,” he says. “For one thing, you look--and smell--a lot more like a corpse than usual. When’s the last time you took a shower?” Despite his grumbling, the homunculus gladly clambers up Eden’s arm, digging in his tiny claws to keep his balance, before settling on the tiefling’s shoulder. “And when’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

“Fuck you, I’m perfectly fine.” Eden flicks the creature’s nose, smiling as the homunculus nips his fingers in response. The creature’s teeth are sharp, but far too small to cause any more pain than a slight prickling sensation. It reminds Eden of a teething puppy.

“Anyway,” Eden continues, “that’s not the point. I’ve been… traveling, let’s say, so you’re gonna have to get used to that while you’re sticking around.” He can’t imagine that’s going to be a problem--the homunculus is a notoriously adaptable creature. Really, all the creature needs is food to eat, a place to sleep, the chance to relieve himself on occasion, and the presence of his creator.

“Eh,” the homunculus says, “that’s okay. Didn’t think you were the adventuring type, but whatever.” He’s making himself comfortable on Eden’s shoulder, curling his tail around himself. “That why you smell bad?”

“I don’t smell bad,” Eden says. He moves on before the creature can protest, shifting his stature automatically to account for the additional weight on his shoulder. His joints ache at the movement, but he ignores them. “Anyway, I’ve also been doing a lot of fighting. There’s a lot of things that want me dead, turns out, and we both know that you aren’t built to handle a situation like that.”

“I could be,” the homunculus offers. “I could bite the shit out of someone. I could kill them. I could disembowel them with my powerful fangs-”

“You couldn’t bite through the skin of an apple without help,” Eden tells him. “Stop lying.” In response, the homunculus bites his neck, only serving to prove Eden’s point as the action prompts nothing more than a snort. “You’re not helping your case here.”

“I hate you,” the homunculus grumbles. “You’re the meanest alchemist alive, Doc.” He settles down on Eden’s shoulder, curling up like a little kitten. “You’re so mean to me, your only son.”

“That I am,” Eden agrees, ignoring the way something in his chest flutters at the homunculus referring to himself as Eden’s son. He’ll have to remind him not to do that. “Anyway, we’ll have to figure out a plan to keep you out of the fray the next time a fight happens, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” The homunculus hums in agreement. It seems the creature’s initial burst of energy is waning, and now it seems to be growing tired.

“Anything else, Doc?” the homunculus asks. “Or can I take a nap? Being born is very tiring, you know.” Eden hesitates briefly before he answers.

“Well,” he says, “I’m traveling with some new… friends. I should give you a primer on them before you meet them, so you don’t embarrass both of us.” The homunculus lifts his head to shoot Eden a dirty glare. Before the creature can protest, though, Eden continues. “Look, I can already tell some of them are going to adore you, you annoying shithead, but the other ones would probably gladly swat you like a fly if you get too close.” At that, the homunculus’ eyes widen in unease.

“You have bad taste in friends, if they’d kill a piece of you that quickly,” the homunculus tells him gravely. It’s Eden’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Stop being dramatic,” he warns the creature. “I just mean that you’re an annoying little gnat. If any of them wanted to smack you for it, I probably wouldn’t be able to stop them.” That doesn’t seem to offer the creature any comfort, but he nods.

“Okay,” the homunculus says. “Alright. Tell me about them. I need to know which ones to avoid.”

And so he does. He starts from the beginning, telling the homunculus about each new ally in order of meeting them.

Pevier, the gentle aasimar. Naive at times, sometimes frustratingly so, but full of a genuine desire to help and do good that Eden can’t help but admire. At times, Eden believes Pevier doesn’t deserve to be here, but he supposes that just speaks to the cruelty of the world they’re in. It may be impossible to do forever, considering the threats they face, but Eden wants to protect that naivete, if he can.

Hyndrol, the sharp-witted elf. Clever and quick on her feet and with her words, trading barbs with Eden with an ease that makes him feel remarkably at home just as much as it drives him up the wall. He can tell she has her secrets, but he can’t exactly begrudge her that, all things considered (after all, they’re all hiding one thing or another). She’s loyal to the end when it matters, for better or for worse, and he respects that.

Barley, the cursed tabaxi. Unlike anything Eden has ever seen in his life, with a charming smile and a ferocity boiling just beneath the surface that has him deeply curious. Eden genuinely cares about what Barley thinks of him, much more than he has with anyone in a long time, and the realization makes him deeply uncomfortable. He can’t quite escape the feeling that he’s not measuring up, no matter how hard he tries.

Strata, the powerful dragonborn. Tall and brutal, overwhelming in her strength and awe-inspiring to see in action, and remarkably intimidating even when relaxed. Eden normally wouldn’t put much thought into the feelings of someone he’s known for such a short amount of time, but he can only imagine how strange this all is for her, a literal fish out of water in a world that thinks her kind is extinct. He admires her strength, physically and otherwise, but he’s sure the feeling isn’t mutual. No matter. As long as Strata stays with the group, Eden can accept her disdain.

And, finally, James, the mysterious elf, the newcomer. Dark and intriguing, cloaked in shadow despite his generally friendly demeanor. Eden still isn’t completely sure what possessed him to approach the stranger with the offer of joining them at the circus, aside from sheer impulsiveness and a need for someone to want him around, but here he is nonetheless. He seems decent enough, but… well. Time will tell how poor that decision turns out to be, Eden supposes, but if nothing else, he seems like a good ally for now.

Predictably, most of the nuances of Eden’s relationships with his new friends go over the homunculus’ head. All the creature cares about, of course, is how easily he’ll be able to convince each of them to pat his head and give him apple slices.

“You’ll get to meet them soon enough,” Eden sighs. Absently, he lifts one hand to stroke the creature’s back, smiling despite himself at the ragged little purr he receives in response. “And you can get started on your diabolical scheming to kill me in my sleep and take my place.”

“Sounds like a plan!” the homunculus chirps, nuzzling his hand. “Give it a week! They’ll like me better in no time.” He then yawns. “But… wanna sleep right now. We can meet ‘em later.” He closes his eyes, making himself cozy, and then reconsiders after a moment, opening one eye to look at Eden curiously. “... No. Sleep now. Then food. Then friends. I haven’t eaten in 600 years.”

“You haven’t existed in 600 years,” Eden points out. “You haven’t had a stomach to feed.” The only response he receives is a quiet little snore, and he huffs a sigh, rolling his eyes fondly. Still, he settles back into the bench, letting the creature snooze on his shoulder.

He can find everyone again later. For now, he can just enjoy some peace and quiet with his creation.

[puppyguppy]

You stare at the box.

You bite your lip, fidget your weight between your feet, and blink at the box. You had put the box on the table, but you’re not sure if that’s right – if that’s where it should go. If that’s where you want to do this. The bed would make much more sense; it’d save carrying all the unboxed contents then to the bed. But, as much sense as that makes, something about it just feels way too soon. Because what if – there was a chance you wouldn’t even like what was in the box. And then, dumping all that onto the bed, into your nest, with pre-heat simmering low in your belly – well. The whole reason you even had the box was to help with your heat.

The very real possibility of starting off the week with a bad nest kept the box right on the table. Unopened. Still taped up. Discreet, but addressed to you.

There was no mistake.

The box was yours.

Which, of course it was, you’d ordered the damn thing. Clicked on some ad on some website during a moment of weakness, of morbid curiosity. And then, as a joke (you’d told yourself, anyway), gone ahead and filled out the little questionnaire. Some were multiple choice, such as designated second sex, or what your preferred mate would be (which shouldn’t have been as hard as it was to fill out, but you’ve never really given it a whole lot of thought). Were someone ever actually interested in you, like seriously so, you wouldn’t let something like their second sex get in the way of a potential relationship. As it was, you’d selected Alpha, because that was just…natural. Easiest. And then there were the fill-in-the-blanks. Questions about what scents you enjoyed, and which you despised. In the end, it asked about your own scent, which felt a bit weird, considering such a thing shouldn’t matter.

You were on a website for a company that supplied care packages to help alleviate the effects of going through a heat or rut alone. 

It wasn’t a dating site.

You’d triple-checked.

Right before saying fuck it, and jumping off the deep-end with a single, damning right-click. 

“Maybe the couch…?” You mutter to yourself, one arm curled almost protectively around your middle, propping up the elbow of your other arm, so that you can run a thumb along your bottom lip. In thought, in hesitation, in…anticipation.

Whether you liked it or not, you were opening that box.

There was no reason not to.

Either it would achieve its intended purpose and provide some much deserved relief, considering the last few heats you’ve suffered through, or it’d all just end up in the trash. No big deal. You’ve survived all your other heats with minimal help, surrounded by nothing but your own scent, and maybe a t-shirt or two from those you could consider friends. So…maybe it was just that you kind of, really, wanted it to work.

Would be a waste of money, otherwise.

“Okay. Okay,” you drop your arms and nod to yourself, determined and courageous. The way your toes wiggle in your socks give away the nerves, though. “Couch it is.” Before you can sike yourself back out, you pick the box up and quickly shuffle on over to the sofa in the space you’d designated as your living room.

Technically, it is also the dining room. And the office.

And some extra storage space.

The bedroom, at least, is only a bedroom. One of the few little luxuries you manage to afford. 

You settle on the middle cushion, criss-cross applesauce, with the box a decent weight in your lap. You give the perimeter a tentative, cursory sniff, but only come back a little surprised at how well sealed the contents are. The only scent coming through thus far is the dull, familiar one of cardboard and packaging tape. And the slight tingle of neutralizer.

Slowly, carefully, you start to pick and peel away at the tape. You could have, should have, grabbed a knife, or a pair of scissors, at the very least, but – if you got up to get them now, you might chicken out. So, bitten and blunt fingernails it is, until your fingertips are tacky and the top of the box is free. You don’t mean to, but you hold your breath. Your fingers curl around the lip of the lid, and while they work their way up and under, you sink the point of a fang down into your lip. A vein in your mouth pulses with the quickened beat of your heart. It’s so stupid, to get so worked up over something like this, but then –

The lid is off of the box, and dropped down onto the cushion beside you.

You still don’t breathe, but you do peer down into the package’s innards. You weren’t exactly sure what to expect other than fabric, so the sight of a striped sock with a kitty paw on it is…surprising, to say the least. Adorable, amusing, and – ah. It’s kind of hard to laugh without breathing, without inhaling, and the scent that smacks you right between the eyes does so with the force of a freight train. It sends a hard shiver from your head all the way down to your toes, and collects saliva on the center of your tongue.

Fuck, fuck, holy fuck it’s good.

It’s so good.

It’s something floral and dark, with a smoothness to it; invigorating, yet all the while relaxing. Enticing in its coziness. You don’t realize you’ve closed your eyes until you’re blinking them back open. The base of your spine itches, and your thighs clench, and - and that sock is bunched up right beneath your nose. That should be gross, and it is, it is, but it could also be worse, because the sock seems clean, just heavily scented. And, it’s not like it doesn’t make sense for a sock to be in there. After all, ankle glands are a thing, and they work just as well as all the other glands. Still, it takes an embarrassing amount of effort to drop the sock, and start to sift through the rest of the contents.

There’s a couple of shirts; a dark gray tank top and a low-cut black tee with long sleeves. Then there’s a pair of what could either be sweat pants or pajama pants, covered in…spiders. Itsy, bitsy, black spiders, with yellow eyes, and again, you can’t help but chuckle. Digging a little deeper, you find the other sock, a light gray scarf, and last, but definitely not least, a throw blanket. It keeps with the whole monochrome theme (excluding the socks), a soft gingham slashed through with a bright, baby blue. All in all, not bad.

Not bad at all. 

The exact opposite of bad, actually.

You’re only regret is having not been brave enough to just upturn the entire box onto your bed, because now you have to gather each and every item up in your arms, and make a happy, hasty retreat to your bedroom, which just seems way too far away with the way your body is now thrumming, blood silently screaming to nest, nest, nest! You manage though, because of course you do, and realistically, it’s not a far or hard walk at all.

Though, it is a little bit wet. Slimy and sticky and warm, and only getting warmer, down between your legs. You’re still in pre-heat, so nothing hurts – yet. You have plenty of time to build a nest and enjoy it, before you lose your mind to it all. To the desire, the hunger, the need, the ache; the loneliness, and now…the fantasy.

“Thank you, kind, smelly stranger,” you whisper with a little laugh, just as your knees meet the mattress of your bed. There’s a fleeting flicker of guilt; it almost feels wrong to be doing this, using a stranger’s scent to get off for a whole week. But then, you realize, it’s really no different than watching porn. Whatever Alpha stuffed that box full of their belongings had done so willingly. Consentingly. Caringly. So, you let that feeling go as you set about pushing and shoving, folding and tucking, wrinkling and kneading everything into place, items both old and new. In the end, you make a haphazard circle, but the shape doesn’t matter nearly as much as the feel does. The smell.

And it’s only then you realize why that website might ask for your own scent. 

You’d left it blank. But, as you slowly sink down into all your hard work with a purr, you can’t deny it. You smell good together. You and this Alpha. So much so that you find yourself nosing even deeper into it, into your own pillow and a stranger’s shirt, nuzzling nose, cheek, neck. Your toes are wiggling again, stretching and flexing, curling in utter delight. When your hands start to move, it’s with minds of their own; one to smooth up under your shirt and along your chest, thumbing around a nipple, while the other slips straight down between slick thighs.

Your scent is a bit of an…acquired taste. You don’t smell bad or anything, but depending on who you asked, opinions ranged from ‘household cleaner’ to ‘fancy dessert’. Personally, you always thought you drifted somewhere in the middle, like a lemon drop or something. But here and now? Together, you smell like lemon and vanilla, lavender and coffee – like tiramisu and a latte. You want to bite down on it, lap it up, ‘it’ being the stranger’s neck, an Alpha’s scent gland, your Alpha – at least, the Alpha that had anonymously decided to take care of you for the week. 

Alas, your pillow will have to suffice. As will your fingers, until too soaked and too frustrated, you will have to trade for a shirt and a toy. There’s no neck, and there’s no knot, but still, still. While picturing a hundred different hot, beautiful ways this Alpha could look, could sound, could touch – call you ‘mine’...

It’s, admittedly, the best heat you’ve ever had.

[webslingerx]

Continued here part 1 with @the-stars-in-our-destiny

Yes! At least know he’ll have a few more moments with him to get to know him and hopefully learn a thing or two about him. As Starry seemly speed walks through the door Spider-Man has to pick up his pace to keep up with him now.

Once inside he sees Starry talking with one of the nurses now he couldn’t hear what they were saying but watching Starry’s body language… didn’t seem like a good thing. The hospital smelt like rubber gloves, rubbing alcohol and medications of some sort. His nose wiggles under his red, webbed mask as he looked around the hospital grounds.

As soon as Starry leaves the nurse’s side, he subconsciously tilts his head to the side thinking about this. What was going on? Even though he wanted to be with Starry while he got checked up he wanted to give him some privacy from him but this seemed urgent. Something was wrong. Once more the spider walks over to Starry but unlike earlier he leaves a small gap between them for space and cellphone privacy.

“Sorry to bother you… but I see you’re having some trouble. I’ll talk with the nurse and see if they’ll just ring us up as a guest for now okay? They can’t refuse to treat such wound alright? I got this.”

He softly pats his shoulder before turning around to leave Starry’s presence. He finds the same nurse that Starry was talking with previously. Of course once the nurse saw he, they shook his hand and was hyped up about her being there. Once he started talking to them, they listened nodding along with what he was saying about the situation. He expressed the wound was more severe than he thought and he needed to be seen immediately. He even offered to pay for the visit. After a few minutes of them talking Spider-Man heads back to Starry’s side.

“Alright I got us a room!.. for you’re head of course.”

He chuckles awkwardly for a moment while walking away but keeping his pace actually slow this time for Starry to follow him.

“They said it’s room 334… and the doctor will be there ASAP.”

They went past a few rooms before he finally found theirs room. The room was already opened for them. He walks in sitting down on one of the extra chairs provided. There were three chairs, two with green cushions and one with a red cushion and of course the table chair thing the patient sits on.

“Starry? I’m so sorry your day isn’t going well… first you’re head injury and now this crap? Sheesh… you need a rest and a deserved break after this is over. I don’t know what going on with your phone but do you want me to look at it? I’m pretty decent with technology.”

That was an understatement. He was great with technology but he wasn’t gonna let Starry know that. He had to hide who he was a good as possible. He must remain anonymous as possible. For him and for the rest of New York. But he wanted to try to help his new friend out as much as possible. He did find it odd that there were no records of him here… as there were records on everyone including him, as Peter and as Spider-Man. This wasn’t the time though to barrage him with a surplus of questions, no he needed sometime to think and sometime to remain calm and at ease. He pats the empty chair beside him softly.

“Wanna sit a spell with me?… the doctor will hopefully be here soonish.”

[soniabigcheese]

Been doing a bit of back yard clearance.

The small cheap plastic greenhouse has gone, it is serving no use at all. And two* of the garden chairs will be going, as the legs have rusted at the bottom so as soon as you sit on them they'll collapse.

*we have two more in the shed, which have been protected a lot more, they were part of a gorgeous patio set but the parasol and table went a while back - blame hubby for that decision not me.

Plus, they're too low down for hubby to sit. We will have to get some booster cups for the legs or a thick booster cushion for his bum

The plant pots are looking wonderful and slightly overgrown but I don't care, they're thriving and adding some much needed splashes of colour when they start blooming

Next stage?

Clearing and sorting out the coal shed because there's a LOT of decent stuff in there that can be sold or donated.

After that?

A bit more sorting around indoors and hopefully do some painting here and there to spruce the place up (cover the bare plaster from the rewiring from 6 years ago)

We're still on the shelf about moving/getting a kitchen renovation, but at least these clear outs will help with more space or make that decision to move for us

I have spotted a GORGEOUS bungalow, not that far away and it is absolutely delightful

But

It is waaaaaaay out of our pockets, even after merging the sale of our house, the inherited house, the garages and father in laws estate ... once it has been equally divided

I just want a nice juicy lottery win, and that bungalow will be ours

But hey, we can dream.

Another one could come along in the meantime

[kissagii]

𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 - 𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕪𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

summary: for some unfathomable reason, osamu decided that he'd rather spend his time at the national volleyball teams' party catering instead of celebrating. so as the two of you spend hours together in the kitchen, he can't help but think you're the closest he has to a plus-one.

reader is gender neutral so anyone can enjoy (they/them used once)

warnings: a decent bit of cursing, food & eating

You considered yourself decently strong, so you grabbed two chafing dish trays from the back of the Miya family's minivan and carried them into the party venue's kitchen. Carrying them one at a time would have been smarter, but time was tight and you could handle two of them. You set them down quickly, escaping the heat that began to seep through the fabric cushions on your hand.

Back at the van, your classmate and cooking partner was hefting up a precariously tall stack of trays, leaning them against his chest as he began to make his way to the doorway. You held it open for him, watching in amazement as his large arms held up the stack with ease. Four trays. Four damn trays. He's gotta be insane.

"Showoff. You'd better not drop those," You said as he walked away, feigning a lack of awe. Though really, you wouldn't mind if he did it again, allowing you to catch another glimpse of his corded arms. It wasn't fair, you thought, that he could be so good at cooking and athletic at the same time. Not to mention that he had a nice face.

Oh god, [name], now's not the time to be ogling the pretty volleyball boys. Save it for later, there are plenty of others and you won't be stuck in a room with them all night. You chastised yourself for letting your thoughts wander from the task at hand. It was silly, you admitted, to be crushing on your undeniably attractive classmate and cooking partner, but it wasn't your fault he happened to be the exact definition of your type.

You grabbed another pair of trays, the last two in the van, and made the short trip back to the kitchen. You took a better look at it this time - the ample space with minimal appliances clearly made for catering. The left counter had already become cramped with your supplies, but the other two were blissfully empty. At the very least you'd have enough space to work.

"Let's get started then," He said tersely. "I'll take the shiozake, can you start with the negi miso?"

It wasn't long before you could hear the clamor building outside the kitchen, with only a metal screen between you and the growing party. When you first arrived only the setup crew had been there, but the variety of voices you could now hear told you that at least one team had arrived.

The kitchen, however, remained mostly silent. Every once in a while you'd ask one another for an ingredient or supply, but that was the extent of it.

"Y'know what, fuck it, this silence is awkward. Mind if I play some music?" Osamu asked, moving towards the sink to wash the sticky rice off of his hands.

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll listen to anything," You said. Though, in all honesty, you had your particular music tastes, part of you wanted to know what sort of music Osamu liked.

"Oh, great, I'll just... put on my usual playlist then," Osamu took his phone out of his backpack, fumbling with the screen for a moment before his music app started working. He hadn't brought a speaker, so he put the phone on an empty patch of counter.

The first sound that came out of it was an advertisement. More specifically, the exact same advertisement that had followed you around spotify for the past week or so.

"Broke bitch," you said jokingly as you continued work on the rice balls, forming some while others grilled.

"It's a responsible financial decision," Osamu replied with a sharp sarcasm, a breathy laugh escaping his lungs.

"Yeah, ok, sure. But I swear if I hear that ad one more time I'm just going to cave and deal with paying it."

The loathed advertisement came to an end, and the first song began. You'd recognize that slightly muffled drumbeat anywhere.

"Osamu... is that... Wildest Dreams?" You asked hesitantly.

"Shit- uh- that's uh...." Osamu moved to skip the song, but he had already begun work on the onigiri and the rice coated his fingers. Instead he settled for a disgruntled (and slightly embarrassed) huff.

"Oh my god, you're a swiftie," You said between laughs.

"I- hhhhhhh. I know it's weird. Laugh all you want," He grumbled, cheeks pinkened.

"No no, it's not that, it's so unexpected but it makes so much sense- Not gonna lie, it's adorable," The laughs continued to rack your body, the cheesy romantic song in the background such a precious contrast to your co-chef's moody exterior.

"Shut yer trap," Osamu mumbled, turning away from you with a childish pout.

While the rest of his music was more of what you had expected for a guy like him, you didn't pay much attention to it. The two of you talked too much for the music to matter.

When it came time to serve dinner, you were more disappointed than you should have been. I'm here to share food with people, I love sharing food with people, so why am I so bothered?

The volleyball boys were... interesting. To say the least. Some of them far too energetic for your tastes, others looked as if they were about to fall asleep any moment. Most were far taller than you, and nearly all of them did a double-take when they noticed you serving food. After all, very few of them would have seen you before, and those that did were unlikely to have remembered you.

The onigiri trays emptied surprisingly fast. With the few other foods set up on tables outside, you began pulling the empty metal sheets back into the kitchen for cleanup.

"So, 'Samu, this is yer plus-one, eh?" The cocky voice was one you knew well enough - Atsumu, the popular and, frankly quite annoying, twin brother of the boy you'd spent the entire afternoon cooking with.

"I think they'd prefer assistant chef," Osamu replied blandly with just a hint of sharp distaste for his brother.

"Well I think since you've locked yerself in the kitchen all day it might as well be a date," Atsumu teased, "It's like you'd rather spend time with your assistant chef than with the rest of us."

"Shut it, 'Tsumu. Unlike you, [name] is actually a decent person," Osamu spat, dramatically pulling down the metal screen between the kitchen and hall. It hit the blonde atop the head (not too hard, you hoped) and he recoiled backward with an offended face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Atsumu's voice was muffled by the metal but still clearly audible, "Enjoy your date~"

Osamu shot a glare in his brother's general direction before turning back to his work washing the rice-coated utensils.

"So I'm just a 'decent person,' huh?" You asked, leaning leisurely against the sink, mindlessly fiddling with the dish towel.

"Well, I'd've been nicer, but that woulda given 'Tsumu the wrong idea," Osamu said quietly, scrubbing with a determined fervor.

"The wrong idea... how?"

"First off he'd've taken anything short of insulting as an ego boost, he always does. Or he might've thought... that we were together."

"Oh."

You cursed yourself for such a simplistic response, but your thoughts were racing too fast to put together anything more coherent. Atsumu thinking we're together is bad... does he actually not like me? No, he probably just sees me as a friend. Damn.

"Well, for the record, I think you're pretty great," After a moment you fumbled the words out of your mouth. 'Pretty great' was a terrible understatement - you thought he was amazing, wonderful, so funny and talented and handsome.

"Yeah, you too," He murmured. How strange it was to hear Osamu, usually so outspoken, being quiet. Almost... shy.

"And, well, while assistant chef is a nice title and all... I wouldn't mind being your plus-one either." Your words were nearly drowned out by the running water, hesitant but entirely sure of what you meant. The whole evening had made you realize how much you were into Osamu, his immaculate sarcasm and love of food, the dry but entertaining banter over stupid things. Maybe he had been flirting. Maybe he hadn't. There was no way to know.

"I think I'd like that too." Osamu looked over at you with a shy smile, cheeks tinged with red, dropping the dishes in his hands.

"You're so fucking adorable," You said with a little laugh, the warm flush building in your own face. Holy shit. This is actually going well.

Osamu snatched the towel from your hands, drying off his hands and forearms. "Can I like... hug you? Is that okay?"

You skipped over a verbal response, choosing to throw yourself at him instead, wrapping your arms around his broad torso. He was warm, comforting, and the perfect height for hugs. Gently, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, placing his chin on top of your head in an a silly, condescending way.

"You're such a dork, Osamu."

"And you like it."

©nesswritesnonsense 2022

[thehylianidiot]

TheHylianIdiot's Assortment of Brain Worms

Was tagged by both @bumblebeehug and @kiliinstinct for this one, so let's do this.

rules: share the first line (or two or more!) of every current wip you have (that you feel comfortable sharing) and tag some writer friends! feel free to add the titles of your documents if you see fit

Oops We Kidnapped the Emperor (Title WIP) (Fairy Tail)

The mission to rescue Makarov had a few hiccups.

The first of which being despite traveling across the ocean to the heart of the Alvarez Empire, storming its castle ready to get back their captive guildmaster, the designated High-Collateral Rescue Squad did not bring back their Sixth-But-Soon-To-Be-Eighth-Guildmaster. 

And as for the second well…

Erza explained it to the rest of the guild best. “We kidnapped the emperor.” 

The Other Four Idiots, Plus A Cat (Chapter 22) (Fairy Tail)

“How many people have you interacted with in your life?”

“Umm… well… I don’t have a lot of practice with people. Most are either dead or fled in the first twenty four hours.” Mavis chuckled a bit, because keeping bright and cheerful normally made things happier and not a constant reminder that the majority of her prior interactions involved the other party trying to… well… increase their kill count by one. 

Given the lady slapping her palms to her face, maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it. 

“Oh gods he befriended a psychopath,” Ultear not-so-quietly muttered into her hands.

Lost My Cap (I swear I will write this someday) (Legend of Zelda: Minish Cap)

"I thought I heard something" 

Yes. It was a frog. How that buffoon of a guard could mistake a frog for him, Vaati wasn't sure. And of course the dimwit just had to pitter patter up above like some lost pet. 

On and on he heard the aimless clank of too heavy boots. Surely the guards could find something more interesting. There were monsters flooding every inch of their precious kingdom! Didn't they have something better to do than hunt the one who opened that damned box? Like perhaps stepping away from the sewage gate? 

He breathed in a quarter second too long and nearly gagged at the overwhelming stench. Don't you dare, he told himself. No way was he embarrassing himself further today by getting caught. 

To Slay A Demon (Part 2) (Fairy Tail)

Maybe some naively optimistic part of Gray hoped Zeref was a glass canon. That after cult after cult of worshippers and thousands of demons at his command, their ringleader would be too dependent on them. 

That optimism was crushed between a fraction of a second.

And death magic flowed around like a tidal wave of sand, flinging haphazardly in a nonexistent hurricane, crashing against ice-made shield. One trickle past Gray’s defenses, and he’d lose everything.

The Little Raindrop of Magnologia (Fairy Tail)

Drip drip drop. 

Little Juvia stood alone in the pouring rain. 

Drip drip drop. 

Everyone else had long since fled indoors. After all, it was the easiest way to escape the rain creating waterfalls from roofs and rivers from sidewalks. 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t afford that luxury. 

These Are Not the Reincarnated Immortals You're Looking For (Title WIP) (Fairy Tail)

Alios would say the evening was going surprisingly normal until the chloroform. 

But no matter how many preparations he made so he could have a decent time (for once) at his favorite author's award ceremony—working overtime that week to make enough space in his schedule and spending the better part of an hour beforehand figuring out how to wear a modern suit along with how a gods-forsaken tie worked—Alios couldn't stop his weekly kidnapping from literally any random cult in Fiore falling on that exact date.

So as the last shreds of haziness finally faded away and Alios found himself tied to a chair in a pitch black cell, his first thought was, at least they gave it a cushion this time. 

Death Swap (Title WIP) (Fairy Tail)

It started with a passing rumor. 

A local tale shrouding its details with pottery gilded in mysticism and silken rarities tailored to lure passing travelers with enough coin in their pockets and a passing interest with the morbid to pay for a souvenir. Yuri knew he shouldn’t keep his hopes up. 

Knew it was going on two years already. Knew he should be getting back home, call it a night after making sure Warrod had kept a good eye on Makarov this time and the guildhall wasn’t turned into an artistic rendering of spinach inside a blender. 

As Precht said, they were never going to find her. 

Then again, Precht spent most of his time nowadays wallowing in the never-ending stream of newfound council regulations that kept multiplying like rabbits every few weeks until he couldn’t look at a stack of paper without sweating, so what did he know? 

Tagging @classysassy9791, @xfangheartx, @pencilofawesomeness

Feel free to ignore me, nobody is under any pressure to share if they don't want to.

[hijinxensues]

The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma - Part 12

RotTMNT Donatello x OC!AFAB

Synopsis: Donatello considered himself, nay, deemed himself the greatest mind of his generation. He was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer and was a technological genius. Dare he throw in that he was a damn good brother and held the title of being ¼th ‘Protector of New York City’.

He could barely fathom that he didn’t piece together that the pretty barista he was falling for was simultaneously his gaming buddy (might I add, for the last eight years) and was working for Big Mama.

At this very moment, Donatello was sure of two things in his life. One of them being his life was a joke and the second being that he was fraternizing with the enemy.

All because he decided to run errands whilst donning his cloaking brooch.

Warnings: Aged-Up turtles, fluff, Half-Yokai OC, AFAB OC (does use she/her/they pronouns in writing), swearing

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Ch 12 – Boysenberry

Your eyes scan the conversation on your phone as you lay in bed, still brewing over the disaster date from Hell that happened a few days prior. Huffing annoyedly, you roll over on your back and adjust your shirt roughly, so it doesn’t ride up your back uncomfortably. There’s a wall of text from Donatello before leading into a very brief conversation between the two of you.

Between the ‘I understand’s and online apologies from Donatello and the ‘I need space’ from you, you weren’t quite sure how to move forward with things. The text thread and Discord chats were dead, and while you’re relieved and thankful Donatello has always been nothing but respectful and took things literally to a fault, you’re almost…sad he doesn’t try to reach out.

It felt like a breakup. It hurt and it made you angry. Not only did you have to come to terms with him not having romantic feelings, but you also needed to grieve that you didn’t really have a friend in him either anymore, atleast for the time being. It was still up in the air with next steps, but you were still so hurt and confused.

Trudging through your apartment, the mess had gotten away from you. Between yourself, Usagi and the occasional Leo coming through couch cushions lived on the floor, blankets strewn across any surface and not to mention any type of snack or fast-food container littered your counter tops and coffee table. The dish washer was still broken and it was now not going to get fixed just because you were not on speaking terms with Donatello so you’d have to dip into a paycheque to buy a new one.

Washing dishes were your least favorite chore and thus it was done the least. You made a mental note to ask Leo to do them next time he was over, it was the least he could do for invading your tiny one bedroom apartment. It cost a ton to feed both a big Rabbit-Yokai and an even bigger ‘Mutant Turtle’.

Fluffing out a garbage bag you start to sort out your garbage and compost, your nose wrinkling at the smell of leftover food. You’d spent the last few days vegging out by yourself, crying, watching shitty rom-coms (where the guy does in fact, get the girl, as always) and doing bad karaoke with your blue boys.

Exhaling heavily, you set the garbage bag down in a corner and start doing a half ass clean around your apartment. It looks half decent after an hour, with anything plush in a bin set aside in the bedroom and the dirty dishes stacked in the sink instead of all over the apartment. You light a few candles, a liberty you try to indulge in now given Donatello won’t be coming by for a... very long while, before popping into the bathroom to take a well-deserved shower.

You wipe away the condensation off the mirror and encase your ears and hair in towel atop your head. Fingers itch to pick up your phone and you do, only to be welcomed with no notifications. Rolling your eyes, you ignore the sinking feeling in your gut, “Stupid.” You mutter under your breath as you dry off and place your phone on the counter rougher than you mean to.

Pulling the spare blankets from the closet you give them a quick sniff and cringe, how long had those been sitting in here? They smelt old, but with everything else waiting to be washed you’d have to make do. You pile a few fluffier blankets onto the couch and push it around with your hands to make it into a burrow before submerging into it. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of the blankets and you try your best to squash down the urge to pick out an unkempt blanket from the laundry bin that smelled like Donatello. Everything that smelled like Usagi, smelled slightly like Leo and while it wasn’t unwelcome, it was a change that you weren’t used to yet.

Getting comfortable was not a luxury that was awarded to you as you thrashed inside the blanket burrow. Pulling up the couch cushions, you kneaded at them roughly in a poor attempt to fluff them up and in a flash your eyes light up as your nose catches a whiff of…something. It smelt good, and it was comforting. Through unfocused vision you shift your head as your nose twitches and tries to catch the scent in the air again.

Stuffed between the crevices of the couch was Donatello’s signature purple hoodie.

Mentally you scold yourself at how much you wanted to drown in the scent and grab at it with force pulling it from its confines. Balling it up you fully intend on throwing it across the apartment and while your arm does the motion, your hand does not let go.

Eyes flit to the balcony and then to the rest of your tiny abode as if someone was going to catch you doing something wrong. Your nose is pressed to the soft fabric before you can comprehend what you’re doing, and you inhale so deeply it makes you lightheaded. Fingers clenching into the hoodie, the fabric is gently rubbed against your cheeks. Donatello was very cognizant of the texture of clothing he owned, even all the causal clothing he wore around your apartment was in pristine condition and almost always the softest article of clothing you touched at any given time.

In a moment of weakness, the hoodie makes its way onto your body, sleeves pooling around your wrists and the collar is pulled up to cover half your face above your nose. The satin lining of the hoodie does little to soothe the cacophony of emotions that run between your chest and stomach. Donnie said his clothes were up for grabs and you had explicit permission to wear them, but you felt almost guilty for wearing his clothes and knowing he didn’t like you in the way you liked him. The Donnie that materializes in your thoughts drowns you in his scent clothes, top to bottom, because he likes you. Because he wanted you and the thought shoots straight down.

You jump up at the sound of your phone pinging and you wrestle your way out of the burrow you’ve made. The phone screen lights up and you groan looking at the calendar reminder about a friends birthday party you were meant to go to tonight. You push down the disappointment that it isn’t Donnie. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes out of frustration and you press your palms hard into your eyes to quell the tears, Donatello was meant to help you pick out and tailor an outfit for you for tonight.

You tap the ‘confirm’ button to send to your friend and lay back down going through your mental checklist of what you needed to do if you were going to attend the event. Glancing at the clock it tells you that you had roughly two hours to freshen up, find an outfit in your closet, probably tailor it (you didn’t know how to tailor) and then hop in an Uber.

Begrudgingly your legs kick out and off the couch, paw pads sinking into the plush carpet. A coffee was in order.

--

Braving the winter weather, you make your way over to Rendezvous. The coffee shop was so close you decided Donnie’s hoodie and a pair of fleece lined leggings with boots would be sufficient for your trek, you just hoped to any and all deities you wouldn’t run into him.

A blast of warm air hits you as you enter in the coffee shop and you upnod your coworkers’ working the till and coffee station. You busy yourself by picking around your cuticles as you wait in line, your phone essentially useless to you and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to not text Donnie given the stress you were under to make it to the event tonight.

Your heart jumps as a green tridactyl hand comes to cover yours to curb your picking, “Fancy seeing you here.” His eyes flit over to your hoodie and his pupils dilate; you supposed purple was his color too.

You snort and face him with a crooked smile and a shrug. “It’s not like I work here or anything, Fearless.”

He looks tired, bags under his eyes, his brows drawn on with not as much care as usual.

He quirks a brow with a small grimace, “Fearless?”                            

Chuckling you nod, “Yeah, my ‘fearless hero’ who escorted me home. Or do you prefer ‘Hero-Boy’ instead? ‘Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle’ is a mouthful and I refuse to call you that while we protect your identity.” Thinking back to your encounter with him in front of the bank, you couldn’t for the life of you what Leo called him. Donathon? No, that’s not even a real name. Was it Jonathon? That seemed more plausible.  

The terrapin in purple takes a solid few seconds musing over his options thoughtfully before nodding, “A bit odd as my brother is often also referred to as ‘Fearless’ as a silly nickname, but it’ll do for now.” You make a mental check in your brain as he confirms he has a brother. Perhaps him and Leo were brothers? You couldn’t assume any Terrapin Yokai was related, you wouldn’t be any better than the people who insisted that you and Usagi were cousins.

The both of you reach the front of the line and you hold a hand up and slap down your card and mischievous glint in your eye, “I got it, you look a little worse for wear.”

“Oh hoh, you’re one to talk.” He eyes you up casually with a playful grin and you’re suddenly self conscious of the messy damp hair tied up on your head along with the too-big hoodie and mis matched socks. Knocking your arm into his roughly you shush him and order what you need to as your co-worker glances between the two of you suggestively. Rolling your eyes, you do a tiny shake of your head to your co-worker to get them to bite their tongue over the dynamic between the two of you.

“This is a weird question,” the coffee shop was busier than it usually was and the ambient sounds of customers was comforting, “do you know how to tailor?”

Fearless nods, slowly. “I do, mutant turtles do not often fit into human clothes and thus a lot of tailoring does need to happen.” He nods his thanks to your co-worker before picking up both latte’s and handing you one. A blush creeps up your neck as you linger a little longer at his hands than you mean to, the paper cup looked so tiny in comparison.

“Second weird question, I have an event tonight and I probably don’t have anything that’s ready to wear. But I might be able to put something together, the catch is-“

“You’d need someone to tailor so it’d fit.”

“That big brain of yours is working hard, Fearless.”

He laughs allowing you a peak at his pointed canines you’ve never noticed before, “Inviting me into your home and you haven’t even taken me out to dinner.”

Scowling, your cheeks are painted pink. The smile he tosses you reaches his eyes, and he doesn’t look ragged anymore. You don’t recall him ever being this brazen with you before, and this version of him was much more tolerable than the version you had run into with your rabbit ears equipped. You have you avert your gaze, so you don’t combust and head to the front door, “I asked you for help, not for your hand in marriage.” He snorts and follows close behind you, “I had a friend who was meant to swing by but…” your free hand waves absentmindedly, “it fell through. They uh, left me hanging, so to speak.”

Fearless hums and opens the door allowing you to pass through first and you shiver at the temperature change, “Sounds like they’re an idiot. I’d be happy to assist you. This is exactly what your Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle does.”

--

“You’ll have to excuse the mess, I half-way cleaned earlier but uh, I’m going through it right now.” Sheepishly you shrug and open the door and kick your boots off. Quickly you make your way to the balcony and open the door to allow some circulation into the tiny apartment, then haphazard clean anything out of place and kick the garbage bag you were using farther off to the side and tie it closed. “Sorry, Fearless. I’m usually better than this.”

He waves his hand casually, “Worry not, Violet! We all ‘go through it’ as you say.” He makes air quotes with a single digit on both hands. If he’s disgusted by your dinky little apartment, he doesn’t show it.

“Right, well, shoes off,” a pause, “Nevermind. Make yourself at home was where I was going with that.”

Fearless moves through your space like he owns it. He picks a coaster off the top o your fridge and pops a coffee pod into the Keurig before refilling the water and pressing start. He opens the cabinet under your sink to dispose of the old coffee pod and washes his hands, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“How’d you know where the coasters were? No one has ever successfully guessed where I keep them.”

There’s the most miniscule pause before he shrugs casually, “I’m a ninja, Violet. Always expect the unexpected.”

You give him an incredulous look and make your way to the bedroom, “Sure? I don’t really know how that answers my question?” You catalogue this dialogue and make sure to bring it up at Girls Night tomorrow.

Fearless claps his hands twice, “Chop, chop, s’il vous plait! Off to the bedroom with you.” He allows you to enter first and presses a hand to the small of your back, his hand almost fully encompassing your waist due to its size, as he makes his way around you.

You pray he doesn’t catch your shiver as his fingertips leave you, “Okay, so uh, I had a few options for tonight. The event is like, semi-formal? I have a few dresses, but I think they might be a bit too small. I’m not sure if there’s enough fabric to really let them out and re-do the seams? I also have a skirt and a top option.” You pull out various clothes and toss them onto your unmade bed, “Yeah, sorry the bedroom is usually in better shape too but yenno.”

“Let’s see. May I also have a look in your closet?”

Nodding you step aside, “I’ve got all my kinda formal stuff in here, go crazy.”

Fearless is meticulous in looking through your wardrobe. He pinches and rolls fabric in between his fingers and holds articles of clothing in front of him to fully examine in silence before placing them back thoughtfully. You watch him from your perch on the bed and catch his nostrils flare for a moment then stop. Weird, maybe you needed to toss some mothballs in there if your wardrobe smelled like mildew or something.

He turns and looks at the selection you haphazardly put together on the bed, “This red one seems adequate. The color would be appropriate for an evening cocktail type of event. What’s wrong with this one?” It’s a tight fitting, midi length dress with full length sleeves and a collar that would rest right under your neck. The top fabric is sheer and the under fabric stopped just a few inches before the sheer fabric did to give the dress a bit more depth.

He pulls at the fabric to test its stretchiness and holds it out in front of you pinching where the shoulders would be. “Nothing, it’s too tight.”

“Where?”

“Er, in the hip area.”

The rabbit DNA was a blessing and a curse.

There’s a very light blush across his snout you think is adorable as he clears his throat, “Right,” he moves and sits on the edge of the bed stiffly, “Give me a moment.” He straightens out the dress and drapes it over his lap delicately, then starting from the collar of his hoodie, he pulls up and over. You barely register that his goggles get jostled and that he slightly rearranges his wrappings in the tussle with his hoodie as his plastron being revealed inch by inch is much prettier view. He still had his black wrappings and grey sweats equipped so he wasn’t naked by definition but it sure as hell felt like he was. His hand is on his own shoulder, and he rotates his arm from the shoulder to relax it, his bicep flexing as he wiggles his fingers and takes hold of the dress again.

God, what is wrong with you? One minute you’re crying over Donnie and the next you’re thirsting over a Yokai that’s conveniently in your bedroom.

Mechanical arms pop out of his tech shell and procure a small sewing kit and he gets to work. The bed dips behind him and you give him adequate space to work as you hover over his shoulder to watch. You’d never been this close before and you take full advantage of unabashedly staring as his focus is pulled elsewhere, his tongue poking out as he does the task at hand.

Freckles peppered the pebbled skin on his shoulders, his elbows also a slightly darker shade of green.  Rectangle purple markings grace his biceps, they match the ones on his thighs you’ve seen before. His mask covered most of them, but you just barely get a peak at the light smattering of freckles that went over his snout, you bet he was gorgeous in the sun. Three thin stripes grow downwards and over the expanse of his throat, and with you this close you can tell they taper off with only a light online leading to the edge of the top of his plastron.  

“Your stripes still growing in?” you whisper not to disturb him, your chin dangerously close to resting on the shoulder plate of his battle shell as you watch his fingers deftly seam rip the dress.

The feeling of pride surges through you as he tries to hide his shiver by clearing his throat. “Yes, as I get older, my stripes being more prominent. It seems they develop and elongate downwards, the ones on here,” he points to this throat and your eyes follow the curve of it, “are still coming in.”

The silence is easy and your hip hurts from sitting so still on it as to not disturb Fearless’ work. You watch him tie off the final knot and he brings the excess thread to his mouth and cuts it with his canine. The act causes a flutter down below and you stand up to cover up squeezing your thighs together. You were drowning in very potent Donnie musk from the hoodie you wore and had a cute boy in your bed. This was natural. Your brain and body were getting mixed signals from all the stimuli. That was all! It wasn’t like you wanted to rip his wrappings off and lick up his stripes, no sir. You did not want that.

“Here you are, try it on. I’ll put together something as a back up as you go change.”

Nodding, you pass in front of him and head the bathroom rather quickly trying to still your racing heart. You get dressed easy enough and do a few squats and jumping jacks in the privacy of your own bathroom to test the strength of his work, you didn’t need a wardrobe malfunction while out tonight and with no one to call to help. You use one hand to run through your hair and the other to scour the inside of the side bathroom drawer, “Found it.” Usagi had gifted you a micro cloaking brooch disguised as a hair pin, the gem in the middle was clear and resembled an opal. You slick back one side of your hair and use the pin to keep it there, then fasten it with a few other pins to ensure no disasters would come of tonight.

There’s a few soft knocks at the door, “I’m merely checking in on you, it’s taking a minute. Does it not fit?”

“Er, no! I mean, yes, it does fit. It fits perfectly! Give me a sec.”

“Alright, I’ll head back to your room. I have a back up outfit in case you deem this one not appropriate for the event.”

The dress fit too well; it looked like you were poured into it. It was so form fitting you forego the underwear, you’re lucky the fabric was thick enough to hide the shape of your bra under it. The silky fabric hugged your soft, round curves and didn’t pile or rouche around your torso or hips anymore leaving a clean curve the eye could follow. You had a bit of pudge on your stomach and your “hip dips” were prominent, but you couldn’t be bothered, you spent years feeling bad for having a body and tonight was not the time for self doubt in such a pretty red dress.

“Hoh boy.” Looking at yourself one more time in the mirror you gave yourself a tiny pep talk and exited the bathroom. The bedroom door was closed and you very quietly paced back and forth as you talked yourself up and enter.

His eyes are down cast looking at the clothing options on the bed, “I’m thinking this midi skirt, with this top, if you’re not a fan of the dress. I also took the liberty on sewing up a hole on this pair of jeans I found, it was just above your tail bone, how did you manage that by the way? It’s a very odd place to need repairs. I also noticed your dish washer is broken, the main indicator being many dishes in the sink. It was an easy repair; I hope you don’t mind but why buy a new one when I could just fix the one you have? I added a bit of ‘Fearless-Flair’ to it, I haven’t tested it out but I’m sure it’ll work. I’ve programmed it to load itself so you don’t have to. One less thing for you to worry about, the modern age of technology is convenience! Forgive me, I’m rambling, anyways-“

The way he stares at you makes you think he wants to take a bite, or possibly just devour you whole. You catch his eyeline following up the curve of your hips and then back down doing a onceover. Heat raced up your thighs and behind it chased the feeling of guilt as your foggy brain latches onto the thought of Donnie. Were you a bad person for feeling like this about Fearless as your heart still belonged to someone else? ‘Someone else that didn’t like you,’ your mind chastised.

It's barely a mumble but your ears pick it up anyway, “You look pretty.” The statement is so soft in comparison to the intensity his eyes held.

“Pretty?” you repeat after him curling into yourself slightly, your fingers clasped in front of you. You hope the pink that is affixed to your cheeks looked pretty against the red dress.

He must mistake your shyness for being uncomfortable and he spring into action waving his arms out in front of him, “P-pretty!? Did I say that?”, he trips over his own feet as he takes a step forward and catches himself on your dresser effectively knocking over everything on the top of it, “What I meant to say,” he rights himself and tumbles next to you slamming himself against the wall next to you with an overly nervous laugh, “was that you looked pretty shitty!”

It starts off slow with a few snickers and before you know it you’re doubled over, hands over your midsection guffawing. Taking a few deep inhales to steady your breathing, you wipe at the corners of your eyes, “Oh god, Fearless, you’re something else!” a few more giggles sputter out as you catch your breath.

Fearless’ shoulders relax and a relaxed grin takes over his features that you return in earnest.

He opens his mouth to say something but you both jump as you hear the front door click, “Oh shit, that’s probably my friend! Oh my god, he can’t see you or I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“Letty? Babes, are you home?”

Pressing your ear to the door you hear his foot steps quickly approaching, “Fuck, okay he’s coming in here, just- ugh, don’t say anything!”

“Who!? Why are they coming in here!?” he’s crouched at your eye level.

“I don’t fucking know! Just- just, shhh!” Fearless tenses as you put your hand over his mouth effectively silencing him. There is an attempt to move your hand from his mouth, his brows furrowed annoyed with the course of action, but with your free hand you press on his plastron keeping him in place, “Don’t move and stay quiet.” There’s a pointed eye roll but a single nod in confirmation he was going to play along, “Good boy.”

That garners a reaction you weren’t ready for as you feel a brief but deep rumble from his chest under your hand. His eyes are wide, and the rumble stops as the doorknob twists.

“Hey, oh my gosh! You look amazing, it’s Yoru’s event tonight, right? Also, do you know where my phone charger is?” Usagi tries to enter, and you stop him with your foot, “Uh, living room!”

Usagi pauses and looks you up and down, “What’s going on? You okay?” his arms are quickly crossed over his chest suspiciously and you catch his ears swivel to pick up any sound.

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I’m just uh, super nervous for tonight! You know what I’m like and you’re not even coming to hang out with me! Phew, my social anxiety is through the roof!”

This seems to satisfy him as he stops trying to enter your bedroom, “Oh, well, I’m sorry, did you want me to cancel on-?”

“No, no! You’re all good, I’ll be totally fine.”

There’s a pause and you continue on, “So, the phone charger, it’s plugged in by the TV, if you wanted to grab it. I still need to finish up my makeup before heading out, so… you can let yourself out.”

If Usagi knows you’re lying, which he probably does, he takes mercy on you and strolls to grab the charger as you stand in your doorway, unmoving.

“So, any news on the Donnie situation?” Usagi roots around and unplugs his charger.

Your fingers twitch and you scowl, of course he’d bring this up right now, “Uh, nope! Radio silence, er, which is exactly what I asked for.”

“You still miss him?”

Head in your free hand you wince and flounder for words as the tightness in your chest hits you full force and Usagi continues, “It’s okay if you do, I think it’d be weird if you didn’t. I think it’ll work itself out eventually, but yenno, I think you’ll be okay.” Usagi is kind enough to tidy your couch fixating his eyes everywhere but at you, knowing eye contact made things more difficult.

The dress suddenly feels too restricting and you’re breathing heavy now, out of your nose, finding words is more difficult as the seconds pass and if you wait any longer to answer Usagi would for sure know that you’re hiding something.

Get it together, get it together, breathe, breathe, breathe.

The terrapins hand encompasses your own and moves it to his chest, placing your palm to his plastron and he holds firmly, applying gentle pressure. Your hand is entirely hidden by his resting one and his thumb rubs over the skin on the back of your hand. His plastron vibrates, soft and reassuring. It was the rumble again, did turtles purr? Didn’t Usagi say something about Leo purring? It was called churring, you recall.

Your breathing steadies and your eyes find his and smile sheepishly, “I think I’ll be okay, too.” There’s something familiar about the way his lips curve upwards and the adorable tilt of his head, but you can’t place it. He does another firm squeeze to your hand as he stops churring.

Usagi claps and you almost give yourself whiplash looking towards him, “I’ll be going then, got what I need.” He holds up the charger and plug in attachment. Usagi squints in your direction but does head over to the door, “Text when you get there safe tonight, I’ll be at my place tonight.”

Deeming it safe you take back your hand and walk forward to tail behind the rabbit and close the door behind him, “Will do, love you!”

Your back rests against the front door, “They’re gone, Fearless. You can come out.”

He pops out with his sweater equipped while you pull a cold round citrus fruit out of the fridge. “Any allergies?”

He shakes his head and leans on the counter, chin in his hand as he watches your fingers peel the fruit expertly.

Palm up, you out stretch your hand and wiggle your fingers. He thankfully catches what you’re saying and places his hand out, palm up as well. “Thanks for tonight. Like, for everything.” The fruit is peeled fully, even taking care to remove the white membrane. It’s gently pressed into his hand, your free hand cups the back of his and you squeeze before letting go.

“It’s a-“

“Clementine.” He finishes off for you.

Nodding you toss the peel in the compost bin, “Yeah! Fun fact, did you know it’s a hybrid between a willowleaf mandarin orange and a sweet orange? Hopefully the one I gave you is sweet.”

He cradles the tiny orange fruit in both hands and turns so you can only see his side profile as he stares down at his hands, his eyes shimmering. Is he about to cry?

Fearless conceals a sniffle poorly with a cough and turns his back to you while wiping at his eyes before popping a segment in his mouth and sliding over half the fruit to you, back still turned. “It’s sweet, have some.”

The segment bursts in your mouth and you hum appreciatively at the flavor. He’s oddly neutral and you think he needs some time to himself, for whatever reason. Glancing at the clock you make your way to the bathroom again, “I’ve gotta keep getting ready, but seriously, thank you again. If you’re comfortable, you can leave through the front door. Or alternatively the patio.”

He says nothing as you pass him by and shut the door behind you.

A few minutes pass and you don’t hear him moving about the space. You exit once your makeup is done and your apartment is empty again, the patio door closed with no sign of Fearless.

Huh, you really didn’t know what to think of that guy, however you do decide to keep Fearless your little secret. For now, atleast.

--

TIME SKIP, Next day, evening

The sound of the vacuum mixed with the tunes in the background from your Spotify playlist is enough stimuli for your brain to keep you going as you prepare snack bowls for you and your friends. Usagi was ever so graciously manning the vacuum around the tiny space, lifting one end of the couch up with one hand, vacuuming underneath it then placing the couch back in its’ place.

Your counter tops were full of food ranging with popcorn, candys, chocolate and chips on one side and the other side consisting of sprinkles, any type of confectionary type toppings and a waffle machine. Both pancake and waffle batter was at the ready in the fridge along with home made whip cream. Breakfast for dinner was always a favorite of yours and the fluttering, giddy feeling in your chest shone brightly at being able to indulge in this with your friends.

“I think I’m all done on my end.” Usagi coils the cord around the machine and stows it away before hooking up the Nintendo Switch to your television and also plug in numerous phone chargers on an outlet near him. “Perfect, now no one needs to fight over a phone charge.”

You giggle and flap your hands in front of you, “I’m dizzy, I’m so excited!” You take another peak at your phone and watch the time change before reaching for your brooch on instinct. A furry hand catches your wrist, “You’re good, you don’t need it with them.” Stowing it away in your junk drawer you unlock your front door in preparation then jog over to the balcony door to unlock that as well, just in case Leo were to pop in unannounced as he usually does.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them.” Usagi feet does a few excited thumps on the carpet before prancing out of the suite and down the stairs to grab them.

Absentmindedly, you push around the bowls and rearrange them in the time it takes for Usagi to come back up with Sunita.

April squeals with her arms outstretched and makes a grabby hand motion at you, “C’mere you! How’re you doing, girl!”

You wrap your arms around her and hold on tightly as you both sway side to side, “Good, good! Well, yenno, been better but good now!” April gives good hugs, you decide. They’re firm and she digs here fingers slightly into your shoulder before rubbing your back.

Sunita is close behind April and wraps her arms around the two of you and holds tight, “I can’t believe the plans made it out of the group chat!”

The click of the door signals Usagi’s in and he pats each of you on the head before rubbing his furry hands together, “Let’s get situated with food and someone pick something to put on the tv to ignore. So something mildly entertaining but maybe something we’ve all seen?”

Sunita does a two-finger salute and pops a handful of candies in her mouth before making her way over to your living room to scroll through your streaming services.

Between the three of you in your very tiny kitchen, you get the waffle iron and toasty pan going on your stovetop and you begin to ladle in the batter.

“Got some tunes going! Couldn’t pick anything on a streaming service.” Sunita grooves her way to the kitchen and leans on the counter, “How’s Cass, Apes?”

“Who’s Cass?” the buttery pancake melts in your mouth, “Oh shit, this is really good!” Usagi flicks his wrist and tucks a pretend strand of hair behind his ear, “Pfft, thanks,” a goofy grin graces his features.

“My girlfriend!”

“Oh, Apes, why didn’t y’all say anything? We should’ve invited them!” you explain and pull a waffle off the iron and let it fall onto a plate to save your fingertips.

April shakes her head casually and polishes off the marshmallow bowl, “She’s busy at work tonight!” she flicks her wrist at you to signal an ‘it’s all good’, “next time. She’s a bit intense, so consider yourself ready for next time.”

“I don’t know what that means but fair enough, thank you.”

Usagi polishes off a pancake and sprays whip cream in his mouth straight from the can, “Yeah, that’s definitely the truth. She is intense.” He shrugs and smiles playfully at April, “Like, in a good way.”

April rolls her eyes at him casually and pushes her red frames up higher on her nose, “First things first, I love your digs, babe!” April saunters around your cozy apartment, walls covered in sage green. An accent wall with abstract shapes and paint strokes in a soft lavender that could almost be a grey. There were a few floating shelves that were sporadically placed filling the emptiness of the walls that had various trinkets, baubles, and photo frames.

April rubs the bottoms of her feet on the plush rug encompassing most of the square footage in the main area in the living room, “Ooo, this is nice! No offense or anything, but aren’t you just a barista?”

You guffaw and make your way over to her and drape yourself over the back of the sofa, “I work a second job that pays way too much, and this apartment is technically a ‘hand me down’ from my late-dad, so I pay the strata fee but the suite itself is paid off.”

“Lucky rabbit!” Sunita exclaims from her position in the kitchen.

You giggle and nod, “You got that right.”

“Is it just you then?” April prompts. You shake your head and draw shapes on the couch cushion, “Nah, I’ve got my mom. She lives out of town, but I do see her occasionally.”

Sunita picks up a face down photo frame hidden behind another propped up frame, “Awee, you two are too cute!” she holds the frame as if to show a classroom of kids something and the three of you peak over at it. April coos and takes the frame delicately from Sunita.

You snort, only mildly embarrassed as you recall the photo. It’s a photo of a much younger version of you and Usagi, your faces both round and youthful, the tufts of fur on his cheeks and his fringe much longer it needs to be swept backwards. Your stark white hair is messily piled on the top of your head, your rabbit ears lazily positioned downwards to showcase the carefree nature of the photo. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and both your cheeks are squished against each others making the photo-you wink. Your free hand closest to him finds Usagi’s cheek and cups it aiding in his cheek squishing yours and your other hand is posed in a peace sign. Your tongue pokes out of your boyish grin and Usagi matches the energy with a wolfish grin.

“It’s the first photo I took with my bunny ears out, yenno after my mutation. We look like twins, if you can get past the fact that I guess I’m mostly human.” You chuckle and stare fondly at the photo. You didn’t know where you’d be without him.

“I’m so cute!” Usagi grins, “I remember when my bangs were that long, gee. Why didn’t you tell me to cut them, dude? I thought we were friends!”

“You’re literally so dramatic, shut up! You’re just like Leo. That was a look back in the day, that was the trend!”

“Leo?” April quirks a brow and places the photo frame back up.

There’s an awkward pause as you search Usagi’s eyes, feeling the tense air around you. You didn’t mean to out him having a boyfriend.

“Oh, he’s just someone I’m seeing! I’m keeping it on the down low, he has a big family and we’re trying to enjoy each others time before we inevitably become the talk of the town. We’re still really in the beginning stages, if you get me.”

You nod quickly and mouth ‘sorry’ at him while you’ve got his gaze on you. Usagi does a small shrug and a smile to let you know you’re off the hook and only then is when you relax.

April nods understandingly, “I gotcha, happy to hear about him when you’re ready.” She winks and puts the frame face down where it was, “Why was this face down anyways?”

You clap and jump into action, “Perfect segue, April! To answer your question and to finally address what has been going on with that mystery guy, let me get into it because I have a physical portion of this presentation in the form of an investigation cork board.”

Sunita stares blankly, “An investigation…cork board?”

“I haven’t seen this magical cork board you’ve put together-“ Usagi starts and then is interrupted, “Yes, because I did it in the dead of night after Yoru’s party.”

Usagi starts up again, “Okay, thank you. I think she means like in that meme? With the guy in front of a cork board with clues pinned in it and the red string tying together evidence?”

“The one where the guy looks entirely manic?” April asks deadpan, her hand already making its way to her forehead to rub at her temples.

You shoo April and Sunita on the couch like you’re corralling sheep until they flop onto the couch, “Exactly! I have prepared tirelessly to have this done for you today.” You push the bridge of your glasses farther up your nose and April catches a mischievous glint in your lenses before pulling a cat laser pointer off a shelf and hold your hands behind your back ready to start your lecture.

“Do you have a cat?” Sunita squints and you shake your head, “No, I just like to have things. Anyways-“

You recount the events over the last half a year, dipping into the necessary details of the alias’ of Othello Von Ryan and Bootyyyshaker9000 (earning a very wide eyed stare from April and Sunita which you equated to the nature of the odd username, Bootyyyshaker9000 really did it for people), going into the semi-reveal, filling in tiny details here and there in terms of nuance and things you didn’t deem as important but wanted to share, your feelings you weren’t sure what to do with, the bank incident (omitting Leo, to give Usagi a privacy shield), the infamous ‘Albearto Date from Hell’ and you spilled a bit about Fearless but didn’t include what happened the night before.

“And so that’s why that photo frame is face down, Donnie doesn’t know I’m part Yokai. Now that I’m thinking of it, not many people do and that’s also why I have the frame down, not just because of him. I do have a life outside of thinking of him.” You ramble on and hold a hand up, “I know we’ve got questions but you gotta give me two seconds to pull out my presentation!”

Scrambling to the bedroom, you slam the door open, and wheel out a large cork board with pinned with various photos of Donnie and Fearless (both taken from the security camera at Rendezvous then printed out at the library), post it notes with haphazard writing and red strings connecting the various theories you had connecting the two of them.

“Oh wow, Sunita! Look at this!” April nudges her elbow hard into her friends’ ribs and Sunita coughs and catches herself from doubling over, “Oh, I am looking! I am looking with my eyes. I am seeing exactly what you’re seeing!”

“Right! So, we’re all seeing it!” you exclaim happily paired with excited flappy hands.

“Oh, okay, so you both also think he’s the same bitch? I mean, they both wear like the exact same shade of purple.” Usagi tags into the conversation, licking the whip cream off his milkshake.

The exclamation of ‘no!’ and ‘it can’t be!’ is so loud it makes you jump and almost makes you a tad suspicious. April scrambles to her feet and slams face first into the cork board and you flail to catch her and board from falling over completely. “Wuh- April!”

“They can’t be the same person,” she fumbles over her words while looking over the photos, “Because, because!”

“Because well, there isn’t any solid proof right? This is all speculation!” Sunita fans her hands out to create an imaginary rainbow in front of her. April nods and looks over the post it notes, “Okay… uh, “Donatello” has four brothers okay… that’s confirmed.” she points to some green writing beside an obnoxious check mark. Her eyes follow the red string to a blurry photo clearly taken off of a Reddit post about the infamous Yokais who saved NYC, “Okay and there’s….four of those vigilante Yokai. These don’t even go together! Trust me, I’m going to school for journalism.”

“Wait, so the only reason I out those two together is because I think the color-coded vigilante are like, a team! There’s four of them and….Donnie’s one of four brothers. Okay, I guess that one is a reach, but still!” You shrug sheepishly and change queue up the next playlist on the television. “Side note, if you’re in school for journalism, you’d be eating this up! Not to like, expose them but to crack the case! You’re supposed to live for this.”

“And the four of them order take out from Tios’! So, I guess if they were the same person, this would check out. It’s also not unheard of Yokai’s using cloaking brooches, literally Letty is one of them.” Usagi points out and comes up next to the board. You nod along in agreeance, “On top of that, Donnie does know what ‘Run of the Mill’ is, they’ve done take out there before! The Yokai vigilantes and Donnie and his brothers both frequent this spot.”

“That’s not much of a clue though, Huesos’ is one of the most, if not, the most popular Hidden City restaurant there is, aside from anything Grand Nexus franchise related. Statistically, it’s reasonable for them to be different people and both frequent the same joint.” April points out nonchalantly, eyes fixated on the board combing through the photos and writing.

“You think his name is Jonathon?” Sunita points to another post-it note swinging the conversation in a different way.

The post it in question had the word ‘Donathon?’, then underneath it ‘Jonathon? MORE LIKELY’, and then underneath that ‘Fearless’.

“I overheard one of them call him ‘Donathon’, maybe? It’s barely popularized, I checked Google. So, ‘Jonathon’ is probably much more likely. He,” pointing to the turtle Yokai, “did refuse to give me his name when he walked me home one night, under the guise of keeping his secret identity. I just call him ‘Fearless’, it’s a play on words for like, ‘fearless hero’- anyways, it’s tacky. I need everyone to keep their thoughts to themselves, okay.” Muttering under your breath you fight the urge to cross out the silly nickname yourself to avoid the laughs. You consider yourself lucky no one bats an eye at your embarrassment while you busy yourself in the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

“It totally makes sense if Donnie and Fearless are the same person that ‘Fearless’ wouldn’t want to give you his actual name since then he’d out himself as Donnie!” Usagi points out.

“Okay, well why would he lie about being a mutant? That doesn’t make sense.” April prods.  

Groaning you run your palms over your face, “How would I know!? I wouldn’t put it past him at this point because he was super against us ever meeting in person, which is a point in the direction of ‘he’s a Yokai in disguise’.”

“The purple thing isn’t a clue either, have you guys ever heard of The Purple Dragons? They also wear this shade of purple exactly. It could just be a really popular color. Maybe it’s this years Pantone color? I’d probably dispute this clue too.” Sunita rubs her chin thoughtfully and squints at the board.

Usagi makes his way towards you and with his back facing your friends and he lifts his hand in front of his chest and does a thumbs up. Your eye flicker over to April and Sunita and ensure they’re still preoccupied, and you give him one back and it cues him to start signing.

‘A bit sus, they think every clue is wrong’

‘Agree, maybe she knows them? Keeping their identities secret.’

Usagi is beside you and quirks his brow at you, “So, do either of you think any of the clues on there point to them being the same person? Or are you going to keep protecting him?” Your eyes widen and you nudge him with your elbow, and you thought you were the spicy one.

“We’re not ‘protecting’ anyone, if we’re going to accuse someone two people of being the same person, the evidence needs to be rock solid.” April retorts back earnestly and shares a glance with Sunita that you can’t quite place the intention behind.

“Fearless was here the other night because I needed alterations for an outfit since I was going out,”

“I knew someone was here!” Usagi shoves you hard and gently smacks the back of your head.

“Yeah, okay! Anyways, he was here. And he walked around my apartment like he’d already been here. He picked a coaster off the top of my fridge, the most ridiculous place to keep them, and mind you, no one has ever come close to guessing where they are coming in here the first time. Explain that?” crossing your arms over your chest you make your way over to the fridge, then pick up your stack of coasters.

“He looks pretty tall from these photos, I think? If he’s as tall as Usagi, he probably was able to see it. And he’s a ninja!” Sunita points out stubbornly.

“He fixed my dishwasher and I didn’t even mention to him that it was broken. But I did mention it to Donnie a few weeks back. He did mention he noticed there were dishes everywhere so he took it upon himself to fix it but, seriously! That’s still weird, right!?” you felt like you were grasping at straws, you look to Usagi, “The night of the date, he kept disappearing then reappearing, and his clothes we’re always messed up. Like he kept getting undressed and re-dressed or something. That’s some Superman-type shit, don’t you think!?”

“Yeah! I mean, if he is a hero, it would make sense that maybe he was ‘on duty’ or something?” Usagi points out heatedly, his ears twitched as he narrowed his eyes at the pair across the room. The tension in the air had gone stale and the sugary sweet food you’d been eating sat heavy in your gut. Maybe this was a bad idea? You’d already hallucinated that Donnie liked you, it was entirely possible you had also made up this whole thing about the two of them being the same person.

“He might’ve been meeting with someone else?” Sunita suggested with a weary shrug as she looked over at April who opened her mouth a few times and closed it, “Uh yeah! M-maybe another girl or?” her expression is wide eyed, and she grimaces next before continuing, “No, wait! Uh, like in a friendly way! Not like sexy-friendly, like, just regular friendly!”

The statement knocks the wind out of you, and you’re unprepared for how hard your lungs grasp for oxygen. You never considered it. He wouldn’t do that to you. Would he?

“Ah, okay, time-out, this completely derailed itself.” Usagi pressed his fingers firmly into your back and rubs to ground you but it does little to your reeling mind as memories flood behind your eyes as you try and replay any and all of them, and Donnie’s been consistently inconsistent, with many things. The option of him being there for someone else was now on the table.

Doubt sowed itself deep within your bones, you were now extremely uncertain of Donnie and if your theory was even plausible that Fearless and him were the same person. Should you award Fearless with kindness at this point if you were to run into him again? You couldn’t shake the familiarity of Fearless but you supposed there wasn’t much basis to your ‘evidence’ aside from coincidences thus far.

You don’t know when April crosses into the kitchen and a feather light touch finds your shoulder, “I’m sure Donnie is a great guy, and he wouldn’t do something like that to you. I just got ahead of myself, I’m sorry. I’m a skeptic at heart… journalism and everything.” She finished lamely but you can hear the remorse in her voice, every word laced with guilt and concern.

Usagi pulls you closer to him and that is effective in having April let up on your shoulder. She reads the social cue and takes a step back. Before she can retreat too far, you link arms with her, “Thanks April, I know you’re just looking out for me. And you’re right, we need more solid evidence before we accuse them of being the same person. I feel like there’s a lot to comb over… we can rehash another night?” Usagi’s grip is still tight, and you can tell by the flex of his fingers he wants to pull you away from April and you give him a few light taps on his person and he relaxes slightly.

“Let’s rehash next time.” Sunita says encouragingly. You don’t know when she’s made it over to you but she rests her chin on your shoulder so it’s nestle between yours and Aprils. Nodding you untangle your limbs and take a sip of cold tea, it was unsatisfying and bitter.

“Well!”, April claps her hands once with finality, “saw you have a Switch, are we playing Smash or what?”

There’s more chatter and Usagi gives your side a squeeze before heading over to the television. The pit in your stomach hadn’t gone away, and the person you wanted comfort from was also the reason the pit exist in the first place.

Feet carry you to the living room and you plop yourself behind Usagi, your legs circling his and you rest your cheek against him. The view is mostly obscured but you can make out the tiny characters fighting over his shoulder and you feel a gentle purr reverberate through your chest, warmth flooding your senses.

“Up for a round?” Sunita holds out the controller for you with a tentative smile. Snorting you snatch it from her with a playful glare, “I’m going to beat your ass, babe.”

Usagi laughs and it’s familiar and soothing and he smells a bit like Leo, but he’s still him and you suppose that’s all the comfort you could wish for right now.

--

TBC

A/N : sorry for the long awaited update! i needed to sort out how this fic was going to end with its reveal etc and so it took me a bit longer just so i could TRY and avoid plot holes with the upcoming next few chapters (: i do have the next one ready and i’ll be putting it in queue to upload in about 1-2 weeks! <3 please enjoy!!

taglist:  @maribatshipper @goldenpanda16 @moonlightmarauder​ @samilucas67

[myjustice]

It was that time of the year when Fontaine was covered in white. Festive decorations were on every house and corner, carolers singing their hearts out door-to-door as snow fluttered from the sky. The Duke of Fontaine made time to deliver a special gift for his favorite director, actress, and fashion icon. The gift was roughly wrapped in green and red paper with at least ten pieces of tape struggling to keep its contents hidden.

A few minutes passed, and he knocked at the door of her apartment. His attire was the same except for a newly knitted scarf featuring smiling melusines on the pattern, kindly gifted to him by the head nurse. When she revealed herself, he spoke softly and held out the gift. “Happy holidays, Furina.” Wriothesley was sure to keep things casual, as she suggested. “I got you this. It’s something Jurieu, Lourvine, and I had been working on for a few months.” Under the paper was a gear-driven footrest, its inner workings concealed by a glossy aluminum cover, with soft cushioning for the feet that would get a massage once switched on.

“Something to give yourself a rest after all the performing and work you do each day.” He paused a bit as he showed her how to operate, raising a hand to scratch his head and offering a mischievous grin. “Though I guess it’s technically from Neuvillette, too, since it runs on that new Indemnitium.” Just as the gift seemed over, he had yet another surprise. “This one is from Sigewinne, and I thought.” Turning around, he showed her they had a sizeable brick-like present for her. “We made you a fruitcake!” Thirty pounds of fruitcake, to be precise.

the weather outside was absolutely perfect for staying indoors & furina was going to undoubtedly take advantage of it. she was hardly in a bad mood today or having a hard time, it was simply that winter weather sometimes required one to stay warm & cozy in the comfort of their own living space so that's what she was doing with her salon solitaire. she had gone out of her way to apply festive decor upon her apartment. ribbons, lights, a tree, even out at her balcony which was adorned with lights & some festive ornaments. she felt like she had done a decent job with that. much to her good fortunes she had a small fireplace in this apartment which she took full advantage of this festive season. the fire burned brightly from the other side of her apartment as she laid cozily & warmly upon her fluffy bedding, her pillows hugged to her person as she contently sighed. though loneliness loomed over her like a guillotine, she ignored the shadow of its blade over her neck, this mood was too perfect ... & there was nothing that would be able to ruin it- knock, knock, knock.

furina's eyes snapped open then. who dared interrupt her attempted moment of self-indulgent peace?! furina stared towards her door almost completely insulted by the darn thing & blew at the hair that overshadowed her eyesight with clear distaste. if she acted like nobody was here that would be so unbecoming of her even though it was tempting. she was hardly dressed to receive visitors, she hadn't expected them after all, in a mere nightgown. ' ugh. ' she relented, curse her good manners! this person best feel like the most blessed soul in teyvat at the moment.

furina practically forced her body to sit up & took hold of the matching robe to her nightgown, tightening it around her form to go greet this unknown guest of hers. ' coming! ' she announced & then yawned before she opened the door to see who it was & to her surprise, surprise as to who this was.

' ah, your grace! ' she beamed, opening the door in its entirety in a silent display of his presence being welcomed here - her upset from before completely silenced at the sight of him. his mere presence evoked within her much joy, he was easily someone who had grown on furina & she was glad that he did. ' what a pleasant surprise. happy holidays to you as well. ' she nodded her head at him & then her attention turned to what he had in his possession, realizing that it was a gift, a gift apparently for her. ' oh, thank you. ' what a rather thoughtful gift this was, she already had in mind putting it to good use later.

she also had a gift for him though she thought she would be able to give it to him at a later date. she knew that even with the free time he had now, most of his time was taken by the fortress so she was only going to wait until the next time he made an appearance ... it seemed like her lucky stars were shining down upon her then. she should probably give him his gift now, who knows when's the next time she'll come to see him again. she would announce it if only he had not mentioned the darn fruit cake because her attention was now fully taken by the treat. ' ah! ' those ocean clear droplets for eyes replaced by twinkling shining stars. oh, how she must have a piece of it now! ' you must come inside & indulge in this magnificent treat with me then-! ' she paused where she was, clearly so swept away by the thought of indulging on the food & wanting to share it with him that she forgot about her state of dress, evident by how she blushed. ' a-ahem! ' she cleared her throat, recomposing herself. ' let me dress first & then you may come inside. ' yes that was better. ' i too have a present for you, so you must in order to accept it. ' she huffed, expecting that he would agree.

... who knew when the next time would be she'll get to spend time with him. she would like to have this moment with him if possible.

@vaultingfist

[wildfire317s-oc-box]

At some point around Mid-day Tsuki is out wandering the massive forest growing on her mountain home trying to find a way to occupy herself until the vast majority of her friends and family wake up after the sun goes down. She had woken up from a day-mare and couldn't go back to sleep so she decided that she may as well go outside though she was still sleepy. As she wandered through the massive trees, she wondered what adventures the night would bring and hoped something atleast somewhat interesting would happen. After a while of wandering she came across the meadow which was surrounded by an assortment of fruit bearing trees that she and her little cousins often played in. The clearing itself was in a way set up for her and her cousins to play in and be occupied for at least a full twelve hours as most of the plants that her mother had planted there were safe to eat and the stream had a natural filtration system because of the water grasses and stones in it. She walked to her favorite spot to sit by the clearings edge beside a stream that ran through the middle of the clearing from the top of the mountain. It was a nice shady spot at the base of a sakura tree that was surrounded by a soft bed of clovers, next to a honeysuckle bush and the base and roots of the tree were covered by a thick cushion of moss. She carefully perched herself against the tree, resting her head on the moss and started spacing out while braiding herself a honeysuckle-flower crown, listening to the soft trickling of the stream and occasionally nibbling on the flowers that sprouted from the clovers. It didn't take long for her to start feeling drowsy and eventually dose off.

This is where you find her:

Demon slayers and humans: You were, to put it bluntly; very lost. There were no paths in this forest, so your map was not exactly very helpful and you decided to follow a stream that you guessed or rather hoped would lead you to the top of the mountain so you could try to gather your bearings. After a while of following the stream you happen across a decently sized clearing, on the other side of the clearing right next to the opposite side of the stream you spot what looks like a small, pale, figure curled up against a tree. You can't tell if they are asleep, injured or even dead and you find yourself growing concerned.

Demons: not long after the sun has set you find yourself wandering the forest you made camp in the previous evening and you decided to explore your surroundings before deciding if you should stay in this forest or move along. You can tell that a lot of other demons have come to call this forest home but you have yet to see any. You eventually come across a decently sized clearing after following a stream and on the other side of the stream you spot a small, pale, young girl resting against a tree with her eyes closed and a flower crown in her hair, the scent of hundreds of other demons coming off her small form. You can tell that she is human but for some strange reason you find yourself wanting to sit and rest with her more than anything else. She looks so peaceful resting there and for some reason some part of you feels that disturbing her with the intent to cause her harm would be a most unforgivable crime.

[joi-in-the-tardis]

Firstly, can I just say that now that I have a cushion for the money end of moving out I have more emotional space to be excited about moving? I'm not saying I wasn't excited before, but it was kinda tainted with stress. I'm excited to not miss my girlfriend all the time. I'm excited to try something new.

Secondly, at this point, I'm pretty open about the fact that I'm leaving in March. But, my supervisor saw the boxes I set aside to take home yesterday (and forgot again, oops) and asked me if I was moving to a new apartment. I just told her no with a smile.

I'm gathering the size of box I want over time from work. I really like the donut boxes. I've learned from my previous moves that if I have boxes that are large I will over-fill them and they wind up being too heavy. The donut boxes are a good size because they still fit a decent amount of stuff, but they aren't so big that they'll be too heavy. Which is great, if I remember to take them with me when I leave. I just... get very excited to leave that place and I forget. Literally from one minute to the next...

I've also decided I need to take in books to work a little at a time. We have a basket in the breakroom to share them. I think I would rather do that than give them to goodwill. I'm not giving away all of my books. But I think I would like to pare it down by at least 25%.