#he's absentmindedly tugging her tail

[eegasleega-will-change-this-l8r]

So I assume most fans who've gone down the MOTHER rabbithole have read the M3 interview thing (lots of cool and fun stuff if you haven't read it before!!)

Fassad gets brought up a couple times, but not toooo much

But as you can guess, I'm totally obsessed with what there is about him

So first off to set the tone, here's a song that apparently inspired part of his character :3

So this song is about (at least as far as I understand, only the first two lines are translated and I don't know Japanese XP) a woman whose cruel, I assume abusive lover has been sent to jail, and how she can only see him as kind and good

I could no longer see you, and for the first time, I knew love deeper than the ocean. Everyone says he's bad, but to me he was always a good person

These lines are what Itoi specifically says he had in mind when he came up with Fassad and the mouse and I just think that's a really interesting tone to imagine his character with Like how well did Fassad really treat the mouse? Like, the way I'm reading the song (the two lines of it that i know) is that she's remembering her lover as better than he really was - she can't see him anymore, and now she loves him better than she ever did before I think it's pretty easy to imagine that Fassad kept some of his crueler tendencies with the mouse (not nearly to the point of his treatment of, say, Salsa, but), but she remembers him for the nicer things he did for her (the mouse isn't gendered in the game or the interview but with the context of the song it just feels right to me, yknow?)

Gotta bring up Fassad and Salsa, too I've heard someone else bring this up and Itoi actually talks about it in the interview, but like The way you, the player, get to perceive Fassad through Salsa is really interesting Right off the bat, you probably hate him He's cruel and tortures a pair of monkeys for his own amusement But Salsa is too weak to really stand a chance against the enemies you face on his own To survive, you basically HAVE to rely on Fassad choosing to step in and help you So you have this abusive, awful guy that hurts you whenever you're around him, but you're also completely dependent on him Which is a really interestingly complicated relationship to have with him

Okay here's the big thing from the interview that informs so much of my view of Fassad's character

Fassad doesn't really understand the pain of others, you know?

That's it That single line is just So interesting to me It's not that he doesn't care He doesn't even UNDERSTAND There's no purposeful suppression of any feelings of empathy or compassion. He straight up lacks it in its entirety. To me, Fassad's worldview revolves entirely around its relation to himself. He sees everything through a very simple lens: "This will help me" "This will not help me" The first group he will throttle as much use he possibly can until it falls into the second group, which is useless and something that can be thrown away or ignored. He likes bananas. He will eat a banana to satisfy his craving for one. After that, he just tosses the peel on the ground and thinks no more about it. Whether something is helping him willingly, through being compelled, or being forced to against their will is something Fassad lends no thought whatsoever to. The Pigmasks do what they're told when he screams at them. Salsa does what Fassad says because rebelling brings physical pain. Claus has had his control over his own autonomy completely removed. The fact that all these people hate him is something that Fassad never bothered to consider.

And this egocentric selfishness is what leads to his downfall. I talked about how I like to think that Fassad's "death" in the fall of the Thunder Tower was Claus's doing in another post. The idea that his torture of Claus could bring potential consequences is something that Fassad never realized. After his reconstruction and repeated failures, he ends up tossed away, alone and pathetic, because he's lost his status and everyone that was previously obedient has no need to listen to him anymore.

On the other hand, you have someone Fassad was obsessed with: his best friend, the only person who gave him the praise and power he desired, King Porky Minch himself. Porky was absolutely terrible for Fassad. Enabling all his worst traits, pulling him further down the path to evil. I think Fassad and Porky are very similar in a lot of ways. In the interview, Itoi talks about how there's a distinction between good and evil, justice and injustice, heaven and hell, etc. People fall around the middle, where there's fun and games that aren't super orderly in the good sense, but nobody gets hurt. But the line's very blurry, and Itoi talks about how it was hard to know what exactly was too far over the line as a kid. (sidenote, it's really really interesting how often Itoi connects himself with Porky)

When I was young, there were a lot of times when I would be scolded for doing things that I'd done just for fun, because the teacher had seen it as naughty. And I thought, "Huh? The line is drawn…there?"

I think this is important for understanding both Porky and Fassad (and hoo boy am i gonna talk about it a LOT whenever i talk about Porky). Porky was in a terrible environment to learn about right and wrong. His parents were terrible examples, and anything he did that seemed totally harmless would be "bad" that he'd have to be punished for. His perspective would be totally skewed, and he wouldn't learn about how what really matters is how his actions affect others. If he lived a normal, un-Giygas-influenced life, and without Ness to be there for him and ground him with an alternate perspective, I think Fassad is what he'd grow up into. Resentful, selfish, unable to understand the pain of others. However. Fassad doesn't meet Porky when he's comparable to himself, he meets Porky at the end of a ?????-year long spiral into absolute, inhuman evil. Porky acts like a mentor and a seemingly benevolent friend, but really... it's just Fassad with a banana. Once Porky's squeezed all the use he can out of him, Fassad learns what it's like to be discarded.

So Fassad really ends up in a miserable place. He hates himself, realizing finally that he's driven away everyone. He's alone, pathetic, broken, left to die in the sewers. It's a very harsh lesson, even if he probably deserved it. I do feel kinda bad for him.

But to end off with, there's one more relationship he had that I need to talk about.

The Magi

His "sisters" you could say.

The game doesn't give us much on their relationship with Locria, but goddd it's so interesting to speculate about. They're the people he would've been closest to, and we KNOW they cared about him, since they mention him repeatedly and are concerned about what might've happened to him (it's so sad to me that they all disappear without ever finding out). I think it was complicated. I've talked about how I see Fassad as someone who resented his place in the world, and I think his selfishness plays into that. He wanted the respect and attention of everyone and everything around him, and their love didn't live up to that. He felt isolated and uncared for, so he dropped them and went to live on his own with his mouse.

But I'm sure he also missed them at the end. They're the only people - aside from the mouse, who I'm sure he also misses - who never hated him. Even though he hasn't thought about them for the last few years, I think he'd know that they never stopped caring about him. He'd finally realize what he had, and that he'd just thrown it all away in his greed and selfishness.

Hm...

You know what'd fit really well for this, actually?

I could no longer see you, and for the first time, I knew love deeper than the ocean.

#earthbound #mother 3 #mother series #fassad #locria #emilyart #emilyramblings #i originally drew BOTH of his hands backward in that pic and had to fix them ugh #he's absentmindedly tugging her tail #even to her he's not considerate of how she feels

[cherubfae]

Red String of Fate || Alastor

Alastor never put much faith in things like fate, no matter how much the red string tied around his left ring finger seemed to say otherwise. It hadn't glowed for him like it had for many others. Would it ever start? Perhaps his soulmate died long ago, that would be just his luck.

tags: fem!fallen angel!reader, human to demon Alastor, blood/gore, mentions of death/killing, soulmate au, one shot

Alastor loathed the idea of soulmates. Someone perfectly aligned for every being on earth. A silly little thing to give one false hope. There were many out there who drove themselves mad, staring at the red rope tied in a neat little bow around their left ring finger, the invisible end of it somewhere in the ether. Hoping and praying that it would emit a bright glow one day and tug them towards their person.

For thirty years, Alastor's string never glowed a single time. He wished it didn't dishearten him at times, absentmindedly stroking at the soft cord. His invisible leash tying him to someone else. Perhaps his person was dead. A depressing thought. But his cord remained red, not the ugly monochrome grey that widows often bore. No, his person was still out there somewhere. Some place he'd never been.

Tracking was a skill Alastor took pride in. It went hand-in-hand with hunting. He was skilled and knowledgeable in almost every aspect of hunting, including miserable human prey. The filthy degenerate he was attempting to bury was one of Earth's worst. The kind of man who preyed on the kindness of women and manipulated them into more depraved acts. Alastor would stand for none of it.

Bang!

A harsh popping sound reverberated loudly in Alastor's ears. His eyelids drooped closed for a second. Opening them again, he realized he was kneeling in pitch black. Blood soaked his hands and pooled the dark ground surrounding him. It was hard for him to focus. Was this his blood?

In a split second, the ground opened up beneath him. A fiery red opened to swallow him whole, and down he fell into the pits of Hell, straight into the Ring of Pride. Where all Sinners go.

Alastor was quick to make a name for himself, as the Radio Demon, one of Hell's fiercest sinners. He took great joy in broadcasting lesser demon's worthless screams all across his radio signal. It reminded him of the finer days of his life as a human. He truly enjoyed being a radio host.

And the most peculiar thing? His string would glow on occasion, yet every time he tried to find its source, the red light would dim and then extinguish entirely. It renewed in him a hope he didn't realize he had. His soulmate was alive--well, undead, perhaps, and here in Hell. He must find them.

Centuries passed, Alastor had stopped chasing the glow. A part of him feels hopeless like a dog trying to capture his own tail. Running in circles and always just out of reach. This petulant curiosity and, ugh, longing were not suited to his taste. He'd given up entirely. Maybe you wouldn't want to see him. Have you heard of him? Were you already terrified of him despite never having met yet?

Today, the buzzing static in his brain wouldn't cease. Creating an ever-growing migraine that not even his moderately chilled whiskey could provide relief. Still, the liquor provided a nice burn as it slid down his throat. He downed it in one gulp, sighing at the now empty crystal glass. Empty. Just like him.

A strange buzz tingled in his chest, a tugging. A rippling sensation that electrifies his body to surge forward. Snapping a glance down at his hand to find that the string itself now extended to the floor, leading out beneath the hatch of his radio tower-- and it's glowing a bright fuschia red.

Molting into shadow, Alastor follows it like a wolf scenting blood. Trailing it all the way to the hotel's lobby where he stops dead in his tracks. A woman with great wings folded at her back he had never met before stands before him chatting gently with Charlie. Thankfully, Lucifer was nowhere in sight, but he had a feeling you two were well-acquainted. The string pulled taught and Alastor's no longer beating heart soars at the squeak you emit. The lobby goes silent.

You turn to him with wide, almost owlish eyes. A deep flush coating your cheeks as you rather comically look from your hand to him and back to your hand. The fated rope has considerably shortened, encouraging Alastor to take an experimental step towards you; delighted when you do the same.

Alastor lifts his hand up, a motion you mirror. Your palms meet, fingers lining up against his sharp red claws. His hand greatly shadows yours. The smile you beam up at him is infectious, a soft crease in his eyelids as he returns the gesture with a relaxed gaze. No wonder he couldn't find you. You were angelic-born.

"Hello." You breathe softly. A gentle whisper that makes his mind hum a low tune, gentle static echoing the room, and his smile increased.

Alastor links your fingers together. "Hello, my dear. It's lovely to finally meet you."

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

#hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin imagine #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor x reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Green | Part 2

"I don't jump around like that!"

Tags/Warnings: Bunny hybrid! Single dad!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, major fluff, crayons and frogs

Length: 2.5k Words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“Is it bad timing?” You ask over the phone, whine Jungkook can be heard fighting a fierce battle against his little toddler, who’s clearly currently winning.

“No- Minji-“ he starts, before he addresses you. “Not- not No towards you, you never call during a bad time, I promise, I always want to talk to yo- Minji come on now!” He sighs, little girl having escaped his lap again- refusing to bend to her father’s only wish. “I promise I want to talk to you. Minji is just..”

“Having one of those days?” You giggle, and he smiles to himself.

“I guess so.” He admits. “She wants to go out and play, but I can’t get her into her outdoor clothes.” He sighs, before he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, you called because you wanted to chat and all I do is complain-“

“no, no no its fine, really.” You dismiss, truly not offended at all. “I uh.. I’ll let you battle your daughter for now. You can.. uhm, we can.. I don’t know. Talk later maybe.” You offer, and he looks at the phone a bit upset.

“I..” Well, there’s nothing there to apologize for. He’s not sorry he’s in his situation, neither is he sorry who he is or what his daughter is- it’s just an unfortunate situation you’re both in. “..yeah. let’s talk later.” He agrees, and you quietly say your goodbyes, making his heart hurt quite a bit.

Just because he’s not sorry, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel guilty.

Minji seems to notice his shift in emotions quite quickly, quietly reaching for her outdoor pants again that he’s been trying to put on her these past twenty minutes or so- now obediently trying to put them on herself, though she does reach for his hands to get him to help her quite quickly. And even while dressing her, jungkook can’t help but think.

Will you ever be able to accompany him and his daughter out like that? Push the swing she sits on, hold her hand when he’s got his full? Maybe.

Maybe not.

All he knows is that once he’s at the playground, sitting on the bench alone again to watch the little toddler play in the sand with another prey hybrid kid, he feels as if he could be the one to throw a tantrum any second now.

Crying out, begging for the world to just let him have you.

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Minji is happily walking through the mall with her dad, holding his hand tightly as to not get lost, when suddenly, as Jungkook has stopped to look at an interesting discounted product in the shelf, he can feel her tug a little as she seems interested in something as well now. “Hm?” Jungkook wonders without taking his eyes off the value pack of baby wipes, before he looks down at his daughter, who’s staring somewhere, one hand prodding at her mouth absentmindedly. “What’re you looking at, hm?” He wonders, looking into the direction she does, when he spots it.

Or rather, you.

You’re wearing simple clothes, clearly not out to impress anyone but just to get what you need, but he can’t deny that you’re still appealing like this, even though you’re not even wearing makeup from what he can see. Your fluffy tail is slightly swaying from side to side as you put something into your shopping cart, unaware of being watched.

Jungkook is curious. It seems like you must’ve made an impression on his daughter- because she appears to recognize you, most likely by your striking features. And while she’s still clinging to him, her interest in you is obvious.

As if you can feel eyes on you, you turn a little to lock eyes with Jungkook- who waves a little, before urging Minji to do the same- but at the obvious sign of being spotted, she instead hides behind his legs, as if that would protect her from the danger of you- even though there is nothing to fear. You wave back, and Jungkook can see that you’re masking your disappointment over the little girl still clearly feeling some form of natural fear.

“Come, let’s go say hi.” Jungkook tells his daughter, who looks visibly troubled by that proposal, torn between natural fearful instincts, and her inner curiosity. Suddenly however, it seems that her decision has been made- as she makes a sound of protest, slipping around his legs to attempt to walk off, if it wasn’t for Jungkook grabbing the back of her wintercoat in the last second. But she’s eager, whining in complaint- and only now does he realize, you’ve walked off, probably thinking that would be for the best.

But not for Minji.

Remembering the dinner, Jungkook has an idea on how to maybe solve this clearly frustrating issue for his daughter- picking her up easily, to walk after you as you’re now standing in front of a large collection of different tubs of ice cream. “One might think you’re the prey trying to escape.” Jungkook jokes, and the second you look at him, clearly worried, he feels his heart jump.

Because his plan is working.

The fact that Minji is now in close contact with her father gives her an intense boost of confidence- hands reaching out for you now, curious eyes fixated on your actual face now, no longer avoiding eye contact. It makes you both a bit intimidated but also hopeful that maybe, this is a sign that with a bit more work at familiarizing yourself with her, there might be a chance.

“Hello.” You greet, careful not to move too quickly, though the little hybrid girl is clearly not that jumpy anymore, giggling happily when she notices your tail wag behind you, hitting the metal shopping cart- pointing to it to show her father, who’s smiling just as much about it. “I didn’t mean to run off- just.. Thought, I don’t know.” You stumble over your words a little, but Jungkook reassures you.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t wanna.. Stall your shopping trip either. Just.. We both wanted to just.. See you, I guess.” He says, while his daughter becomes a bit fidgety, wanting to get down again. “Minji baby if I put you down you gotta stay close though.” He gently scolds her, simply receiving a sound of protest.

You’ve noticed this as well- the fact that she pretty much doesn’t talk, whenever she’s aware that people are watching. She only ever babbles with her father, but that’s to be expected. Most prey hybrids are very withdrawn and shy, so its already surprising she appears to be very much okay with you so close already. And the second he puts her down, she’s already running off-

Though not very far, as she instead happily holds onto your tail, even laughing when you look at her with eyes wide open, completely surprised.

“I’m so sorry-” Jungkook starts, but you shake your head, smiling, and waving him off.

“No, no-” You reassure. “I’m.. Happy.” You nod, carefully looking at Minji who’s running her hands through the fur of your tail, shyly grinning up at you before she lifts your tail to hide herself, making both you and Jungkook laugh.

Maybe she’s just not that scared of predators?

But that suspicion is instantly debunked as two wolf hybrids casually walk past you both to get to pay for their things, making the little bunny hybrid instantly jump back to her father, clinging to the fabric of his pants.

So why is she alright with you?

“Would you.. Like to come over sometime?” You ask Jungkook, fidgeting with your hands a little nervously. “I.. You know. Just for some.. Casual chatting. Maybe cake? I can bake pretty well.” You rant, and Jungkook looks at Minji.

“You wanna visit Dad’s friend with him?” He asks her, and she looks at you, thinking- before she nods, reaching for something in Jungkook’s shopping basket, before she drops it in your cart- and on closer inspection, it’s a small pack of frog-themed hairclips. “Oh? You don’t want them anymore?” He wonders, but his daughter shakes her head.

“..for me?” You ask, and she nods, smiling before she runs behind her father again, curiously poking her head around his body as if to play hide and seek with you. “Well.. Not what I’d usually go for, but they might look nice. What do you think?” You ask Jungkook, who’s caught off guard for a second, having to look away a bit bashful, nodding.

“Y-yeah! I mean, anything would suit you, since you’re really pretty..” He rants, nervously licking his lips before his tongue plays with the piercings of his bottom lip, unsure how to act. This isn’t exactly what he expected- but it’s also a surprising turn of events that makes him happy.

“..thank you..” You respond, before you wave at the little girl, moving to do the same towards her father-

But Jungkook instead hugs you goodbye, unable to help himself in that moment.

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When you open the door to your apartment, Minji is very wary.

It’s to be expected- it's not just a new environment, but it also smells entirely of you- a predator hybrid, her natural enemy of sorts, at least in instinct. So it doesn’t shock him, and neither you, that she’s clinging to her father, stuffed animal in her arm while the other one clings to her father’s pantleg. But one look at you does seem to make her perk up- ears suddenly standing tall and turned towards you, shy smile on her lips while she grins into her dark green frog-plushy. “Hey. We’re a bit late-” Jungkook apologizes, but you just wave him off, letting them both inside with a smile.

“No bother, you texted me after all, so I was prepared.” You tell him, inviting them both into your living space that’s fairly small, but clearly yours. It’s vibrant, a bit chaotic, but overall a home, and not just a place you exist in. The little girl looks around already, most likely having her attention caught by all the decoration, pictures on the walls and colorful interior design you have. Jungkook also notices two awards hung up on the wall near the TV in the living room- and he’s reminded of your profession again, giving him an idea on how to coax his little girl out of her shell again.

“Hey, do you wanna know something cool?” Jungkook asks, squatting down in front of his daughter who looks at him, ears pointing towards him in curiosity. “Dad’s friend can draw really well. Maybe if you ask her nicely, she can show you?” He proposes, and at that, Minji looks over at you, who seems caught off guard- but you instantly walk to open a small room- an office that looks pretty chaotic, obviously the place where you work.

The shelves are full of books of all sizes and colors, but what seems to catch Minji’s attention the most, is a familiar bookcover- the same she has had for quite a while now, green frog family something she remembers very easily.

“Wait- you’re the author?” Jungkook wonders, holding one of the multiple little picture-books in his hands, the specific one Minji is looking at a new one she’s not seen before.

You nod. “I didn’t know she read that one.” You giggle. “This uh.. It's the new one that’ll be published next month. You can look at it if you like.” you tell her, well aware that she most likely can’t read it yet, but probably enjoys looking at the pictures anyways.

“Well, she doesn’t read, really..” jungkook chuckles, watching his daughter carefully stare you down while she picks up the book, something brewing in her brain with the way her ears move so distinctively. “she mostly looks at the pictures, and makes up her own story.” He explains.

“it trains her creativity.” You tell him, as you walk out the room with her hot on your heels, eyes still burning Luke little lasers on the back of your head. “which is important, you know? Many parents.. just leave their kids with the TV or something and call it a day.” You sigh, closing the door behind you before you watch Minji jump on your couch, eager to look at the little book.

“minji, don’t jump like that!” Jungkook scolds, and you can’t help but smile to yourself at the almost challenging glimmer in his daughter’s eyes, as if she’s quietly sending a message- one that’s so obvious, even you receive the signal clear as day.

“But Dad does it!” she suddenly chirps at you. “All’the time!” she mumbles into the backrest of the couch. Jungkook gasps at both the sheer audacity of his daughter airing out his bad habits like this- and the fact that she actually spoke directly towards you.

“Well, I’d love for you both to feel right at home.” You say gently. “So I don’t mind if you jump a little, bunny.” You tell her- and at the nickname she grows shy, hiding away to instead bury her head into her book.

Jungkook smiles at the interaction, and follows you into your kitchen to make some tea, enjoying the moment with you to its fullest. “…I really don’t jump around like that, by the way.” He suddenly tells you with such a serious tone that you can’t help but laugh at him. “Hey, I’m serious!”

“serious? Maybe, but not honest!” You giggle, making him smile as well, unable to really do anything else but. This whole situation feels like a dream really, with you at his side and his daughter warming up to you. He’s sure there will be hurdles, it won’t be a smooth ride just because right now things are looking up- but he also has found a new unique feeling.

A feeling that this might actually work.

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Back home, Jungkook has busied his daughter with her coloring book and favorite crayons, while he himself prepares some dinner in the kitchen. And all is calm and well, until his daughter calls out to him from her room, a whine in her tone signaling that she needs his help urgently.

“What’s up?” He wonders towards her, before she holds out two crayons she’s never used- one red, and one orange. “What’s with them?” He asks, while she pouts to herself, thinking seriously about something.

“which is dad’s friend?” she asks, and Jungkook laughs.

“I don’t know? Maybe both of them, hm?” He wonders, and she nods- suddenly determined as she runs back to her coloring book, occupying herself again while he smiles and shakes his head, directing his attention back to the pan on the stove.

It’s only later, when he cleans up the table and finishes putting away the dishes, that she stands in front of him again, this time with a neatly ripped out page of her coloring book. “Wanna put that on the fridge?” He asks, and his daughter nods.

The picture showing three frogs, two green and one thats colored in orange and red.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic

[seelestars]

➴ ✫ * ✧ WITH A FOXIAN READER (HSR characters)

a/n : i tried to make them all relatively the same length, i swear i don’t have favorites !

JING YUAN :

• thinks your tail and ears are very fluffy and soft to the touch, would constantly touch them if you let him

• gets sad sometimes cuz your foxian features remind him of baiheng occasionally ! it’s okay tho he has you by his side to comfort him ♡

• would help you groom + trim your ears and tail if you asked ! very gentle w it, always going “am i being too rough?” he’s so careful to not make u uncomfy :(

• he has groomed + trimmed mimis fur before so he knows what he’s doing btw

• teases you occasionally when he sees your tail wag etc

“i don’t want a kiss at all!” you pout, crossing your arms as you continued to felt jealous after he smiled when a girl flirted with him. deep down, you wanted more of his affection and attention. and unfortunately for you, your tail gave it away when it started wagging uncontrollably at the mention of his touch. “hm, your body betrays you dearest. c’mon now, we know you’re the only one i love.” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace you found yourself inevitably melting into.

LUOCHA :

• would also offer to help you groom your fur etc

• since he’s a merchant, he def has his hands on some the best products for these things out there ! he even got it specifically for you (๑>◡<๑)

• also probs have a rlly nice comb / wtv idk to help you untangle your fur .. it feels so nice against your tail and ears you find yourself dozing off at times

• gets you beautiful accessories to adorn your ears and tail, he thinks since they’re a very special part to you, why not emphasize it with some jewelry ?

• he likes to absentmindedly stroke your fur as you lay on his lap ♡

“mmh.. keep going..” you mumbled softly as he gently brushed your tail with a delicate comb. you found it hard to keep your tail still, the urge to wag it in contentment quite strong, but you wanted to make his task of brushing it easier so you resist. “enjoying it, my love?” he hums with a pretty smile on his face as he continues to brush through the fur, undoing the small tangles. after a few seconds of no response from you, he looked up to take a look at your face, only to (not so surprisingly) find you asleep.

KAFKA :

• probs asks you a lot of questions regarding your foxian features, “do they cause discomfort while sleeping?” “how do they feel?” “are they soft?” “let me touch them, please?~”

• makes you beg a little before pretending to reluctantly agree to helping you groom your tail. she just likes how you sound when you say “please” ♡

• gives you pet names like “my cute little fox”

• also teases you sometimes by blowing onto your ears , catching you off guard ! but she presses a kiss to them afterwards as a slight apology ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

• tugs on your tail / ears gently occasionally to grab your attention, it always works as she intends (with your cheeks heating up and a flustered expression on your face)

after spotting you absorbed in a book, she decides to sneak up behind you. once she was close enough, she lightly blows at your sensitive ears, causing you to jolt and your body to tense up. “..kafka! how many times do i have to tell you to not do that?!” you turn around, glaring at her with a flustered face as you pout. “sorry my cute little fox~ i can’t help it when your reactions are so cute.” she smiles sweetly, pressing a kiss to both of your ears as her way of saying sorry. it always works, as you find yourself forgiving her and even seeking more of her kisses.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #luocha x reader #kafka x reader

[evansbby]

since we're missing ari and his bunny, you mentioned in sweet devotion that ari didn't know where bunny picked up on swearing. Can we please get a small blurb/drabble on how and where Bunny learnt how to swear? I think it'll be really funny cause bunny probably learned it from her daddy without Ari realizing 😭

Warnings: dark!Ari, daddy kink, dd/lg, bunny hybrid reader, 18+ minors dni.

“FUCK!”

Ari’s eyes narrow as he looks up from his laptop at the sound of your yell. He’d been working on his laptop in your little girl bedroom while you played with your toys. And it had been quite peaceful up until now.

“Bunny. Get over here.”

You freeze and your eyes widen before you sheepishly walk over to your daddy. You already know you’re in trouble because daddy’s put on his “serious” voice. Last time he did that, your ass was sore for days.

“Yes, daddy?” You lisp cutely, hoping to appease him.

Ari frowns, “Don’t try and act cute, bunny. I heard what you said.”

You pout, “Stepped on my charger and it hurt! Couldn’t help it.”

Ari had bought you an iPhone recently, complete with a glittery pink case and matching pink AirPods. He’d bought it because you’d been good, and it was cute to see you with your little phone that only had his number saved under “Daddy💕🥰😚✨”. But now he was seriously reconsidering.

“You shouldn’t leave your charger lying around on the floor, baby. Maybe I need to take your phone away.”

“NO!”

Your eyes widen at the word that’s just come out of your mouth. Oh no. You’re not allowed to say no to daddy — not ever! Last time you said no to him, you’d gotten the belt…

Ari raises an eyebrow before coolly tapping his leg, and you waste no time in shuffling over to him and letting him pull you onto his lap.

“No, huh?” Ari says quietly, “First you swear, and then you say no to me. I’ll be honest, it’s not looking too good for you right now, bunny.”

Tears prickle in your eyes, “Sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to — honest! Just… please don’t take my phone away! Use it to watch cooking videos ‘cause I wanna learn how to cook for you!”

Ari can’t help but feel his heart swell as he looks down at you. You’re batting your lashes at him and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. But fuck, you look way too cute — it should be illegal. With your fluffy little ears covering your face bashfully and your tail twitching against his leg as you cuddle into him. Goddamit, why did you have to be so cuddly and cute??

Lloyd would probably say that Ari was completely wrapped around your pinkie finger but the truth is that Ari can’t help but find you so adorable. And it’s not like you misbehave on purpose—you can’t help it that you’re so dumb and can’t understand right from wrong most of the time.

“Where did you learn that bad word, honey?” Ari asks you after gently prying your ears away from your face so he can see your eyes.

You shrug, “I dunno.”

“Bunny, tell me right now or else I’ll take your phone away. And I’ll put you in your cage for the rest of the day.”

You shake your head desperately, grabbing his shirt. Not the cage! You hate that dumb thing.

“Okay, okay! Heard you say it once. More than once, actually. When you were all mad and scary. But won’t say it now! Promise!”

How can Ari stay mad at you? When you look so cute and innocent? He can’t help but rain kisses all over your face till you’re giggling once more, your tears drying in your cheeks as you promise never to say the bad word ever again.

“You’re lucky daddy’s in a good mood, bunny baby.” Ari says, absentmindedly playing with your tail and smirking when your breath hitches. “But I’m afraid I still have to punish you. No phone for the rest of the day.”

Your lower lip wobbles but you nod — this punishment isn’t too bad. It’s certainly better than a spanking or a belting or the cage.

“You should consider yourself lucky, honey. Uncle Lloyd’s kitten isn’t even allowed to have a phone.” Ari says as he tugs your ear playfully before kissing your tears off your cheek.

Your eyes widen, you can’t imagine not having a phone (even though you’ve only had it for about a week. But still! You love watching YouTube videos and sending silly snapchats to daddy.)

You dutifully hand over your sparkly pink iPhone to Ari anyways, already itching to get it back at the end of the day.

Ari smiles, “Good bunny. Now, why don’t you play with your stuffies instead? Who’s this guy?” He picks up a toy at random, and it happens to be a golden stuffed monkey.

“That’s Mr Cheeseburger.”

“Okay, well, play with Mr Cheeseburger, honey. While daddy does his work.” Ari settled you down on the floor by his feet before going back to his laptop. “And bunny?”

“Yeah, daddy?”

“Next time you say a big girl word like that, I’ll make sure you can’t sit down right for a month. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

#totally self indulgent hehe #anon #ari x bunny #Ari levinson #dark ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #Chris evans #ari drabble

[serenailith]

I'm baaaaaaack(ish)

first fic in almost a year, and it's a birthday gift fic!

In his defense—

No, there is no defense. What he plans is absolutely pathetic, and he should feel shame proactively for his future actions.

But Dream doesn’t feel shame.

in which dream needs touch more than he thinks.

In his defense—

No, there is no defense. What he plans is absolutely pathetic, and he should feel shame proactively for his future actions.

But Dream doesn’t feel shame. He merely sits on the garden wall and watches the man absentmindedly petting the cat in his lap as he reads a book in the warm sunshine. Dream’s scrutiny goes unnoticed by the man but not the cat. The smoky-gray feline stares through narrowed eyes at Dream, ears twitching and a smug gleam in her orange eyes with each stroke of the hand against her back. Dream lifts his head, pointedly turns away, and steps off the wall to land with boots on concrete. Brushing a bit of black fur from his shoulder, he strides into the New Inn with a facade of far more confidence than he truly feels.

Seeing the easy affection Hob Gadling showed the stray cat has triggered something unknowable in Dream, drowning in the depths of his existence. He cannot parse what exactly it is, but it sits heavily, unsettling and discommoding, on his consciousness. He shoves aside the sensation and stops at the bar to order two drinks—one for himself, the other for the man he’s come to see. Janine smiles slightly and points him toward the door to the patio. Dream takes a step away from the bar then turns back, belatedly thanking the woman. She waves him off, but he sees the newfound looseness of her grin.

Hob looks up from the pages as Dream approaches; a small smile tugs at the immortal man’s lips while he sets his book aside. The cat’s ears flatten for a second, then she slinks off of Hob’s lap and disappears into the bushes lining the garden. Dream watches the bottlebrush tail vanish in the bramble before he turns his attention to the man.

“Hello, Hob.”

“Sit, sit,” Hob says with a gesture to the place beside him on the bench. “What brings you by?”

Dream hesitates. He can no longer remember the exact reason for coming to the New Inn, though Hob’s company is usually reason enough. Since his escape and the rekindling of their rendezvous, albeit at a much more reasonable rate than once a century, Dream has slowly settled into the prospect of friendship with Hob. It shouldn’t feel like such an impossibility, but Dream knows his other… ‘friendships’ pale in comparison to the one he now holds with Hob Gadling. This one is true, steadfast, and not built upon what Dream can do for the other.

Hob accepts Dream’s silence easily, shrugging it off as if it is normal to have innocuous questions go unanswered. He does as he has for centuries: He takes control of the conversation effortlessly. Hob tells Dream of the goings-on in his life, the students he teaches and the employees he’s hired for the New Inn. He speaks of new menu items and hobbies he’s picked up for this iteration of life as Gil Hadlen and the stray cat he’s come to love.

Something sharp bristles inside of Dream at the mention of the cat. He forces the stiffness to leave his muscles, leaning against the back of the bench as nonchalantly as possible, and stares at the expanse of brilliant white-blue overhead. Hob doesn’t seem to notice Dream’s reaction; he merely continues chattering on.

Dream lets the heat of the day seep into his skin, ground him to this moment. The bright sunshine and warmth remind him he is free. He will never be held captive again. No one will ever subject him to shortsighted, selfish demands or the cruelty of being on display as a specimen in a zoo. Dream now chooses who sees him and how, and he breathes in fresh air that tastes of an eternity of self-autonomy.

Hob falls silent beside him. Dream blinks at the sudden quiet, turning his head. Hob stares back with soft brown eyes. There is a tiny divot between his brows, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His lips are pulled ever so slightly downwards.

“Are you alright?”

“I am,” Dream answers with a nod.

Hob doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it drop. Rising to his feet, he extends an invitation of lunch and heads inside without waiting for Dream to reply. Dream smiles. He appreciates the easy manner in which Hob treats him now, four months into their friendship. The first two months were filled with awkwardness and hesitance, as if Hob was afraid of somehow upsetting or offending Dream. Which is… a rather fair worry, Dream can admit. He had, after all, stormed away in 1889 because of something so trivial as a proclamation of friendship.

But Hob no longer acts as if the relationship is built of spun sugar. Dream finds this quite enjoyable, even if it means hearing Hob boast of superficial achievements on occasion. Humans do as humans are wont to do, Dream supposes.

Dream deigns to eat a meal with Hob then takes his leave. There are situations to handle in the Dreaming; his realm is still not quite what it was before 1916 happened. There is the Corinthian to remake and more Dreams and Nightmares to craft.

He makes his way to the Shores of Creation and stands, staring at the sands before him. His hands rise, curve into shape in preparation, and hang unmoving in the air. Water crashes onto the shore, but it goes unheard. Shaking his head, Dream forces himself to focus, to create as he has for billions of years.

Time passes with the ease of the warm ocean tide, ebbing and flowing. Seconds stretch to minutes to hours, rich threads connecting every moment that slips by. The edges of the Dreaming ripple with each dreamer that enters their dreamscapes.

A tuft of black fur hits the sand and rocks.

The cat is back in the garden of the New Inn. Dream barely spares a glance as the night air fills with a low rumble. She rises to her feet and trots away, tail twitching in agitation until she vanishes from view. He turns back toward the bench where Hob sat just this morning. The man is nowhere in sight, but Dream knows Hob enjoys watching stars appear in the expanse of deepening blue-black overhead. So Dream leaps up onto the wooden seat and waits.

True to his prediction, Hob appears moments later. A glass gleams in the dim glow of the street lamps in front of the building. A few drops of beer slosh over the rim and drip down the sides of the glass. Hob lets out a low chuckle then, whistling cheerfully, settles in on the bench. Dream waits a beat before slinking forward out of the shadows.

“Well, you’re a new one.”

Hob’s voice is soft, pleasant, warm. Dream doesn’t make a sound as he inches forward. Hob holds out a steady hand; his expression softens at Dream’s hesitance. He murmurs encouragement and wears a smile that grows when Dream presses the top of his head to Hob’s palm. The touch is tender, careful, and Dream struggles to maintain composure.

Life-rough fingers scratch gently behind Dream’s ear, massage at a particular tense area behind his front shoulder. A low grumble escapes him; Hob’s face brightens at the eruption of purrs. Dream feels no shame as he presses closer.

His world narrows to this. This touch. This comfort. This affection given freely. He closes his eyes and curls up beside Hob’s thigh. Warmth rushes through his fur to soak into his skin, and Dream feels something loosen inside of him.

Hob yawns suddenly, and Dream snaps to awareness. The sun has set, leaving nothing but stars amongst the wisps scattered across the sky. The city is closing its eyes, settling in to enter his realm. Lucienne can handle it, he thinks only to let out a small grumble when Hob stretches. Dream freezes at the sound then darts away.

Hob’s voice fades as Dream steps into the Dreaming.

Dream listens with half an ear as Lucienne tells of the needs, the desires, of Dreamers and denizens alike. Matthew perches on the tall back of the throne, surprisingly quiet as the Librarian speaks. As much as Dream cares for his realm, his mind is elsewhere.

It’s been nearly a week since he sat with Hob. Since he felt a touch that branded itself into his skin. Since he let himself sink into the reality of his need—

Need.

Dream shifts in his seat. Need. A need for touch. As if he’s a child held at their mother’s breast, seeking comfort in her arms.

“Sire?”

He blinks once, twice, Lucienne swimming into focus. Her dark eyes are narrowed behind her glasses, and her lips press tightly together. Matthew ruffles his wings before fluttering down to rest on Dream’s knee. Dream frowns at the unmitigated concern etched in every facet of Lucienne’s face, in the way Matthew says “Boss?”

Dream rises to his feet, ignores his raven’s indignant squawk, and vanishes.

Thick, humid air presses in on all sides. It smells of ozone and wet. Sticky grass clings, scratching, bowing beneath the weight. A bottlebrush tail vanishes with a sharp flicker. Leaves rustle in the gusts of heavy wind, and something thwucks. Dream looks around, sees nothing but half a body striding along the sidewalk, torso and above hidden by their umbrella.

Dream leaps on silent feet to pad across the bench seat. Hob’s hand lands between Dream’s ears before the man looks down. An easy smile flickers on his lips, and his brown eyes sparkle. Dream gazes up at his friend—friend. What a novel concept, still, this friendship. No want of his gifts, only his company. A camaraderie so freely given. A companionship once claimed to be built on twin loneliness but has grown to be so much more.

A soft “mrew?” escapes when Dream finds himself suddenly scooped up into arms that speak of past work but a softer present, held to a breastbone beneath which a six-hundred-year-old heart beats. Dream hesitates then relaxes; it seems to be what Hob was waiting for. He chuckles, runs a hand over Dream’s back, and carries him inside.

For a full pub on a Friday night, it’s relatively quiet inside. Voices fill the air but none so loud as to be startling. Disarming. Hob speaks to nearly everyone he passes, but he doesn’t stop. His boots land on the stairs with easy, steady thumps, then a lock squeals as it moves out of place. Dream swallows against the tightness rising in his chest. His ears flick, tail swishing side to side in staccato movements. But then Hob steps over the threshold, and Dream’s apprehension fades.

“Silly one,” Hob croons softly, lowering Dream to the floor with ease. “You’ve chosen the wrong time for some scratches, haven’t you? About to be the storm of the year, they say. We can’t very well sit out in that, can we? Are you hungry?”

Hungry.

Hunger.

Dream is an anthropomorphic personification of a concept. Needs are nothing beyond his need for his realm. Hunger is nothing. But—

Dream is hungry. His stomach yearns not for sustenance, but he is. Starving. Needing. Craving.

For what, he knows not, but accepting the tin of tuna that Hob sets out is well enough.

The storm arrives with a rattle of windows and a thunderous crash through the heavens above. Dream sits with Hob on the sofa while the man watches the news then a gameshow. The hours wind away until Hob is stumbling down the short hall to his bedroom.

Dream waits until he hears snoring, until he feels the added presence in his realm, before he rises to his feet. Being within the walls of Hob’s flat had never once been an option for Dream. He would never impose like that. Even Hob, in all his affability and generosity, has limits. He deserves his own space on which no one encroaches.

Yet here stands Dream, hands folded together behind his back, as he examines the bookshelves lining one wall. The books are organized by no discernible pattern—Dream can make no sense of the sorting. Aged and newly-printed editions mingle amongst each other. He turns away at the gilded lettering on the spine of one book in particular: Metamorphoses. Acid dies, sharp, in the space between his ribs.

Innumerable plants sit on brightly-painted racks in front of the windows. Dream lets his finger run over the silken petals. Hob has done well, taken such care of these beauties. The love is shown in the flourishing. Frowning, Dream reaches out. Pale fingers pinch a misshapen yellowed leaf. It comes off easily, crumbles into nothingness on his palm. He brushes his hand on his jeans and moves on.

The living room is otherwise undecorated. It seems so unlike Hob to not show evidence of life, of his desire to greet each day and bid each night hello. There is nothing to prove that the man who resides here wishes to live. That he made a deal with Death in 1389 and both have abided by it since.

Dream’s feet carry him along the same path Hob took only an hour before. The immortal man lies, sprawled and snoring, across his bed. There is no moonlight here, only the occasional flicker of lightning to illuminate, but Dream doesn’t need it. He can see clearly enough what he hadn’t seen in the other room.

What Dream had been shown so long ago now sits, larger and in a delicate wood frame, on the nightstand. Eleanor and little Robyn stare back from the painting. It is within reach; all Hob has to do is stretch out one arm, not even to its fullest, and his fingers will grasp the frame. Dream pauses at the thought then discards it. And with it, goes the jealousy.

The roll of thunder morphs into the crash of waves, and Dream closes his eyes as he settles into the Dreaming. His hands rise, he inhales, and the grains of sand move into place.

A woman smiles back at him. He sees the familiar softness of the face, the gentle light in her eyes. He feels the home in her hand as she cups his cheek tenderly. The Dream, not quite but so very close to Eleanor, turns on her heel and walks away. She leaves the ghosts of forever love in her wake.

Dream watches her go, until she enters the Dreamscapes beyond the Shores.

“Sire?” Lucienne moves closer, her steps sure even on the rocks. “Is everything alright?”

“Quite.”

Hob can’t hide his alarm when Dream tells him, only days later, that the Corinthian has been remade. That the Nightmare—the mirror of humanity’s darkest—exists once again. Hob asks if Dream is certain he made the right decision.

To his surprise, Dream doesn’t walk away from the offense. He merely assures Hob that he knows what he is doing—now. He’s taken counsel from those closest to him, those whose wisdom he trusts. Lucienne, Merv, Matthew, even Rose Walker have given him plenty to think about. They’ve taught him more than he thought he needed to learn. Hob may not look totally convinced by the time Dream takes his leave, but he at least no longer argues against the decision.

So it goes. Dream divides his time as equally as possible, between the Dreaming where he creates but never unmakes, walking amongst the dreamscapes of his Dreamers—because they are his, aren’t they, after all?—and in Hob’s arms with a gentle hand stroking over his fur. It’s an easy way to exist, Dream has to admit.

The need grows ever larger despite Dream’s best attempts of allaying it. His existence is calm; his realm is operating smoothly. He has learned to listen and heed advice. He has friendships beyond the ones forced to be within his presence.

Dream has changed, become better in his flaws.

He still craves.

Dream glares at the man who has his elbows on the bar, an effortlessly charming smile on his handsome face. Yes, this is a face many would dream of, would wish to see more often. Many, but not Dream. The man ducks his head, laughing at something Hob has said.

Dream cares for Hob, there is no denying that. But funny, Hob is not. Not in the “guffaw until your lungs ache” sense of the word. A small smile, maybe a huff of laughter, a Good one, Hobsie.

And Hob…

Dream hasn’t seen this sort of expression on Hob’s face since 1789, when Hob asked if they should take their chat to another location after Lady Joanna interrupted—this interested, hopeful thing, a baby bird at the edge of its nest, wings lifted and fragile body poised.

The skin splits beneath the sharp tips of his teeth. The man yanks his hand back with a shout, and Hob lunges for napkins. Dream clings to Hob’s thighs with his claws, with everything in him.

“I’m so sorry,” Hob says, dabbing at the blood on the man’s hand. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s never bitten anyone before, that I know of.”

Dream purrs—perhaps a bit smugly—when Hob refuses to toss him outside like the man suggests. The man scoffs and shoves his way to the door. Hob watches him go then lets out a heavy sigh. His finger scratches behind Dream’s ear even as he swallows a mouthful of ale with his free hand.

Once Hob has slipped off to sleep, to his own dreamscape, Dream settles in on his throne. He rests his chin against his knuckles and inhales shakily. The touch lingers on his skin, muted but warm, Hob’s hand just this side of felt through the thick fur. Dream suppresses a shudder, a shiver, the electricity that threatens to run down his spine.

He still craves.

The craving, the unadulterated need, swells. It rushes ever closer. And Dream can fight it all he wants, but he will drown in the weight crashing over him. He will suffocate in the desire to be touched—really touched.

“Boss? Mind, uh, shutting off the waterworks?”

Dream’s eyes snap open at the first droplets of water splattering against his cheeks. Matthew shakes his feathers once more, though it does no good: Rain still falls from the thundering black cloud overhead. Dream scowls, and the rain doesn’t stop.

Fingers, ghostly and nonexistent, brush across the back of his hands. Down his back. Along the shell of his ear. He swallows.

“I have made a grievous error,” he admits hoarsely.

Matthew hops closer, flutters upward to rest on Dream’s knee. The rain seems to not bother him now; he’s too intrigued by the confession. “How so?”

Dream hesitates—will this vulnerability prove disastrous? A mistake? But no, Matthew has had his chances to double-cross Dream. He could have allowed Lucifer to win the Oldest Game by not fomenting Dream into his last play. He could have led Dream astray at any point. Instead, Matthew has been as much a confidant and guidance as Lucienne and Merv.

So Dream tells the raven about the last month and three weeks, of slipping into the Waking to lie as a cat on Hob’s lap. Of the need threatening to overwhelm him.

“Sounds like you’re touch-starved,” Matthew supplies helpfully, and Dream pauses. Matthew cocks his head. “When’s the last time you’ve been touched like that as yourself, not a cat?”

Only one moment stands out—Lucienne clutching his hand upon his initial return to the Dreaming, when he was weak and grateful for escape. He’d clung back just as hard, desperate for the touch, near tears at the relief of contact.

“What should I do?”

Matthew shrugs as much as a raven can. “Talk to Hob, I’d say.”

Matthew flaps his wings, launching off of Dream’s knee, in time for Dream to rise and disappear in a swirl of fine sand.

Water drips from his clothes as he stands outside of Hob’s flat. His hair is plastered against his forehead, and he allows himself a slight shiver at the chill. Accepting the humanity in himself has had wondrous if unfamiliar effects. Dream watches his hand rise as if of its own volition. The knock echoes in the silence of the upstairs.

Thunder cracks outside, but Dream is more focused on the face that appears when the door swings open. Hob blinks a couple of times, gaze sweeping over Dream’s drenched form, then he steps back. Dream crosses the threshold; memories assault him as he looks around.

A book sits on the coffee table. Metamorphoses. Dream swallows thickly then averts his gaze. The flat smells of roasted meat and potatoes, and rain patters against the windows. Hob clears his throat.

“You’re soaked through. Let’s see if I can find some dry clothes for you.”

Dream makes to protest, but the words die on his tongue. He waits while Hob enters the bedroom, waits for the man to return. Return he does with a bundle of fabric in his hands. He shows Dream to the bathroom then closes the door.

The outfit is too large for Dream, but Dream doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds he enjoys how the shirt hangs on his frame—and how it smells of Hob. He breathes in the scent clinging to the fabric before emerging.

“So what brings you by?” Hob asks as Dream steps into the kitchen. Two teacups are on the table. Steam rises from the liquid inside in delicate swirls.

“I…” Dream closes his eyes, draws in a breath that trembles. He has never been so nervous as to struggle this way. He is the crafter of Dreams and stories. He has always known words. “I have not been touched in over a century.”

“Touched?”

Exhaling slowly, Dream closes his eyes. The expression on Hob’s face is too much. “Touched. As you would a cat. With gentleness and kindness. I have not known such things since before my capture. I felt myself above them. After all, how would a ruler benefit from vulnerability?”

“Oh, love.”

“I was wrong.”

The admission hovers in the air, almost palpable in its weight and sincerity. Hob blinks owlishly, and it is only through immense willpower that Dream doesn’t squirm. How odd, this so human urge to show discomfort. How strange to feel discomfort.

“Is this why you came to me as a cat?”

This time, it’s Dream’s turn to blink. “You knew?”

Hob chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Of course I did. Cats don’t have stars in their eyes.”

“Why did you never say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Hob counters before shrugging. “To be fair, it took me three visits to realize. Couldn’t believe it for another couple times you came.” He pauses. “May I… May I touch you?”

Dream nods.

He squeezes his eyes closed as strong arms come up to wrap around his shoulders. Hob carefully, so gingerly, pulls Dream closer. The wet in his eyes surprises Dream—another human reaction. But one so expected after such a desperate wish come true.

“Come, love,” Hob murmurs, and Dream follows where he leads. The bedroom.

The mattress dips, molds around his body, as he lies down at Hob’s gesture. There is no hesitation before Hob stretches out beside him. A rough hand brushes a tear from Dream’s cheek; warm lips press to his forehead.

Dream breaks into a million galaxies.

This is everything he never before dared ask for.

“Rest. I’ve got you.”

Dream trusts Hob.

Dream needs no sleep, but it is easy to pretend he does. Here in Hob’s arms, tucked against his chest, no longer an ancient concept but something made mortal in action. Hob cards fingers through Dream’s hair, whispers gentle nothings, and just holds him.

“Thank you,” Dream murmurs, voice soft and small.

“Always.” There’s a beat of silence, then: “Did you really have to bite that man?”

#my writing #the sandman #dream of the endless & hob gadling #dream is a sad wet cat

[ddejavvu]

hi!! happy monday! so i was wondering if you could write something with hybrid au with hotch 👀 the reader is a cat hybrid and she lives with him and she’s really comforting to him and when he comes home he can’t wait to cuddle with her and kiss her and play with her and it’s just all so softtttt <3 thank you!

The jingle of Aaron's keys in the door is enough to rouse you from your catnap, the sun warming your skin as you sprawl in a patch of it. You scramble to your feet, eager to greet your charge. Penelope, the sweet blonde glitter bomb, had recruited you in hopes of helping her boss with his emotions. She told you that he tended to shut himself down instead of feeling, and that she was absolutely certain a 'cute thing like yourself' would help. You'd say you're doing a pretty good job. Aaron walks in the door with a smile on his face now, a stark contrast to the grumpiness he used to radiate the first few weeks of living with you. Now, when your fingers pry at the collar of his suit jacket he grins, setting down his briefcase as quickly as possible so that he can catch you when you scale him like a ladder.

"Hi sweetheart," He hums, fingers already reaching for the spot behind your ears that makes your chest rev with a purr, "Did you have a good day?"

"Mhm," You nod, "I birdwatched."

"Oh?" He glances over at the birdfeeder he'd set up outside the window, a perfect spot for you to laze around and observe, "Did you see any cool ones?"

"One of them had yellow feathers on its chest," You muse, sharpened nails making quick work of untying his tie, "But other than that, just the regular ones."

"Maybe you'll see that pretty red one again soon," He recalls the bird you'd dragged him out of his home office to see, excitedly yowling about its stunning colors, "He likes the birdseed we put out."

You nod along absentmindedly, tail curling around his wrist as he supports you from below. A quick trek into his bedroom reveals that you're more than ready for the cuddle session you know is coming, a pair of pajamas already laid out for him. The clothes you wear are exclusively comfortable, a sweet pink nightgown already adorning your frame.

"These are your favorites," Aaron observes, plucking a speck of lint off of the black fabric of the shirt, "Are they softer than the rest?"

"No," You hum, already curling up near his pillow, blanket tucked to your chest, "They're the ones you wore the first time you let me sleep in here."

He stills from where he's shaking out the shirt, glancing up at you with his dress attire unbuttoned.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," You pick at one of your nails, tail curled around your waist, "I remember you were worried about it, you were all stiff and freaked out. But I just rammed my head into your chest and started purring, and you relaxed."

He doesn't realize he's smiling until he's trying to talk through the expression. He ducks his face so you can't see it, "Yeah. I remember that."

"Hurry up," You clearly don't realize what a sentimental moment he's having, or you just don't care, but it doesn't ruin the mood. Your whining only makes him go faster, and he gets a knee up on the mattress in no time.

"You're impatient," He chides, but there's no negativity behind the tease. He wraps his arms around you from where you're bundled up in the blanket, his smile soft and sweet as his hair flops over his forehead. You've spent many a night combing your nails through it to get him to sleep, and if your arms weren't just as tightly tucked in as the rest of you, you might try it now.

"I missed you," You whine, and it does the trick. He stops poking fun at you and tugs you closer, eyes slipping shut as his nose butts against yours. When he speaks the murmur of his voice flows through you, warmer than any sunspot you've ever had the privilege of lounging in.

"I missed you too, honey. Tell me more about your day," He pleads, a hand stroking smoothly and soothingly over your back, "Is that dog next door still taunting you?"

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner au #hybrid au #aaron hotchner x cat hybrid!reader #cat hybrid!reader

[august-anon]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served With a Smile

For Tickletober Day 4: Weak Spot

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Fandom: Critical Role

Ship(s): Widomauk (though more implied than explicit)

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Mollymauk/Ler!Caleb

Word Count: 1446 words

Summary: Mollymauk was getting a little too bold, thinking he could always get away with his tickle attacks. Wizards may not be known for their strength, but no one has ever said that Caleb isn't resourceful.

[ao3 link]

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Caleb knew he was an easy target. Wizards weren’t exactly known for their strength or agility, after all. The thing was, he never expected to become a target in his own party.

Ultimately, it had been Jester’s fault – with her particular brands of mischief and physical affection, it had only been a matter of time until weaknesses were revealed. But despite her position as their resident trickster, Jester wasn’t the one Caleb needed to keep an eye on. No, that was Mollymauk, taking advantage of Caleb’s sensitivities in every spare moment he could.

Internally, Caleb could just barely admit to himself that he didn’t necessarily mind it. Maybe, sometimes, when he was particularly tired (or blissed out post-tickle attack), he could even admit to himself that he liked it. Just a little. But that didn’t erase the fact that Molly was getting a little too bold, a little too sure of himself when it came to his attacks. Caleb knew he wasn’t untouchable, he’d watched Yasha and Jester take down Molly when he got a bit too cocky, but therein came the problem. Jester and Yasha were strong and quick – they knew exactly how to take Molly down in order to shut him up or exact their revenge.

But wizards weren’t exactly known for their strength or agility. 

Still, weeks of tickle attacks could not continue to go unpunished.

As it turned out, Caleb’s opportunity for revenge came packaged nicely in one such attempt. He had sequestered himself in his tavern room for the night, studying some new scrolls they had found on their latest adventure, when Molly found him. He sighed and allowed his eyes to flick up towards Molly for just a moment before returning to his scrolls, and Molly seemed to take that as his invitation into the room. The bed dipped next to him as Molly settled himself down, and he could feel the tiefling heat radiating off him as Molly leaned into his space.

“No merry-making for you tonight, dear?”

Caleb sighed again. “I do not make merry, Mollymauk. And in any case, I am busy with far more important things.”

Molly reclined on the bed behind him, curling a sly fingernail into the folds of his shirt, tugging slightly. “It’s just as well, I suppose. Beau and Yasha are trashed already, and frankly, it’s more than a little painful to watch.”

Against his better judgement, Caleb snorted. Mollymauk’s finger plucked at the loose edges of his shirt with more intent.

“Fjord’s well on his way there, as well. By the time I left, he looked half a drink away from slamming Beau and Yasha’s faces together himself.”

“Perhaps he should,” Caleb said absentmindedly, bringing the scroll closer to his face to squint at a specific rune.

He heard Molly let out a dramatic sigh as the bed shifted with his restless squirming. Then, he jumped as he felt a thin band begin to wrap around his waist. Glancing down, he saw Molly’s tail wrapped around his body, the spade of it hovering threateningly near his bottom rib. Molly’s fingernail had also found a new home, having managed to untuck Caleb’s shirt and slip underneath it to trace the curve of Caleb’s side just above his hip.

“Molly,” Caleb admonished, shifting his weight toward the nightstand in case he needed to swiftly get his scrolls out of harm's way.

“Yes, dear?” Molly purred.

“I believe it would be wise to quit while you are ahead. You’re distracting me.”

Molly chuckled behind him and sat up, pressing his chest to Caleb’s back. “Was that a threat, Mr. Widogast?”

“Perhaps it was.”

Molly chuckled, and Caleb flinched as Molly’s tail tightened around his waist, the spade of it beginning to wiggle into the space between his two lowest ribs. “Such confidence from a man in your predicament. Tell me, how exactly do you plan on wriggling your way out of this one?”

That was an excellent question, in Caleb’s opinion, because currently he had no plan. He didn’t even know if he wanted a plan yet, or if this was yet another instance Mollymauk would have his mirthful way with Caleb without consequence. But in either case, Molly’s tail’s ministrations were becoming ticklish enough to make him squirm. He couldn’t help the instinct to reach up and grab the thing. Molly let out a startled sound (much like a cat, Caleb thought fondly) and tried to wrench the limb away, but Caleb tightened his grip, smoothing his thumb over the spade of the tail to try and stop it’s squirming. Instead, the squirming (both from the tail and Molly himself) increased tenfold and Molly let out another startled noise – this one pitched far higher than the last.

“Alright,” Molly said, his voice high and wavering, “you’ve made your point. I can leave you to your boring old books, if that’s what you really want.”

Caleb hesitated, smoothing his thumb over the skin once more and gaining himself another frantic tug. “I apologize, am I making you uncomfor–”

“No!”

Caleb finally looked over his shoulder, finding Molly’s too-wide eyes already locked on his. His lavender skin had tinged a darker purple across his face and ears and all the way down his neck. As Caleb continued to analyze him, Molly swallowed heavily. Caleb narrowed his eyes. He knew this wasn’t an inappropriate situation – Molly and Jester had never expressed discomfort with their tails being handled before – but even if it was illicit, Molly wasn’t the sort to blush and squirm from those sorts of things anyway. He’d be more likely to flirt and tease and try to make Caleb blush instead – not that that was a particularly difficult feat.

Carefully, gently, Caleb brushed his thumb back and forth across the flat of the tail’s spade. Molly lurched forward, practically squealing as he curled up against Caleb’s back. A slow smile spread across Caleb’s lips.

“I see.”

“Caleb, don’t tease.”

Caleb let out an incredulous laugh. “And why should I not? You’re quite fond of teasing others in this position, are you not?”

Molly’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “I still have my pride,” he ground out.

“Well, let me relieve you of that, then.”

Caleb brought his free hand up, spidering his blunt nails on the flat of the spade. Molly broke down into gasping giggles and went limp against Caleb, fingers clutching onto his shirt. His tail tugged for freedom, wiggled in Caleb’s grip, but seemed altogether too weak to be able to break free. Caleb chuckled and tickled his way down the length of Molly’s tail, watching as he arched his back the closer Caleb got to the base of it. He wondered what would happen if he tickled there and the spade of the tail at the same time, but he didn’t think it was possible with only two hands and the strength of a wizard. At least, not without some maneuvering, and he didn’t know if attempting to adjust them would trigger Molly’s revenge.

“I see why you do this so often,” Caleb said. “It is quite amusing to watch.”

Molly simply made a wordless whine, curling further into Caleb’s back and side until his face was buried in Caleb’s hip. He’d all but melted otherwise, aside from his shaking laughter and the twitching of his tail. Caleb’s smile turned fond.

“I’d almost say you like this. It’s quite cute actually.”

Molly grumbled something unintelligible into the skin of his hip, and Caleb flinched at the ticklish feeling, his own tickling faltering for a moment. Caleb sighed and paused his revenge, weaving his hand into Molly’s hair instead to scratch at his scalp. If possible, Molly melted even further into Caleb and the bed, practically purring.

“Perhaps the rest of us should get revenge more often, ja?”

Molly tilted his head up just enough to be heard and said, “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.”

“I’ll remember this for next time.”

Molly grinned at the promise, and Caleb couldn’t help but smile back. Absentmindedly, he lifted Molly’s tail to his face and pressed a quick kiss to the spade of it, forgetting the prickliness of his scruff. Molly’s eyes blew wide again as he squealed, high-pitched and near-deafening, and launched himself backwards on the bed, ripping his tail out of Caleb’s hand in the process.

A dangerous grin that felt very much like it belonged more on Molly or Jester spread across Caleb’s face. “Or perhaps I’ll make use of it right now. What do you think?”

Molly’s tail twisted into excited little curlicues between them. “I’d say you’re rather foolish for expecting me to go down without a fight twice.

#tickle fic #my writing #critickle role #lee!mollymauk #ler!caleb #ticklish!mollymauk #critical role #cr #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #widomauk #tickletober #tickletober 2023 #augtickletober2023

[personne-writes]

Rise August Art Challenge

I stumbled upon @sariphantom's Rise August Art Challenge and it really hyped me up! Sooo, here's a one-shot covering two prompts: "April O'Neil" and "Sleepover". YES, I am on time for the second prompt 😎 Enjoy!

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Weird

1600 words, no particular warning needed

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"Pass me the screwdriver, will you?"

Donnie lets his hand open in the air for a couple of seconds, then another, before wiggling his fingers. When, still, nothing comes, he increases the volume a notch. 

"Screwdriver?"

No answer. 

Not bothering to pull his goggles off, Donnie tears his eyes away from the Turtle Tank radio system to look at the figure standing beside him. 

Leaning against the desk, April has her eyes locked on her phone, expression bored. 

Shrugging, he makes a few steps to get the tool and gets back to the matter at hand. He is deep into focus again when she suddenly decides to talk, distracting him. 

"Do you think I'm weird?"

The question is simple enough, and April’s voice is nothing but neutral. In reaction, Donnie's chuckle is immediate and genuine. 

"Oh, that's a good one," he grins, amused, putting his welder down on the table. 

"It is?" April asks. 

"I don't know, April, you tell me!” he says as he tugs at a few wires to test them. “You're the one attracting extraordinary situations like a magnet." 

"Right," she says, and something sounds off. 

Lifting his goggles over his forehead this time, Donnie turns to her and notices the slightest frown on her face. The social behavior studies he despises must have gotten something right, because surely enough, Donnie feels himself frown in return. 

"Oh snap," April jerks when her phone pings, "is it Wednesday already?!"

"Wednesday, August 16th," he provides absentmindedly. 

"CRAP!" she shouts, straightening up and walking away in a rush. "My English assignment! Gottagobye-"

"See you later," Donnie calls after her, and stares at the empty doorway for a second or two. 

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Later that day, the atrium of the lair is the theater of an impromptu brainstorming session. 

"We wanted to go for another Sewer Tire Ride. Why not bring her along?" Raph cheerfully suggests. "Those are always fun times!"

"Except when some of us get separated from the group," Leo mumbles as he fiddles with his skateboard's wheels. 

Mikey shakes his head with energy. "Guys, there's no way April will want to swim in the sewers." 

"Plus," Donnie adds, "it's not exactly an activity I'd call normal."

"But she ain't exactly normal either," Raph remarks. 

"Sheesh, Raph, you can't say to a girl she's weird," Mikey jokes, and misses the way Donnie flinches. 

"Well, it's not the first time she frets about this stuff," Leo points out, holding his chin. "She could probably use something classic, for once."

"Aaand we're back at the beginning of the conversation," Donnie sighs in defeat. 

"Let's focus for a second," Mikey says, holding one hand up in front of him, rubbing between his eyes with the other. "What's a thing we do that's both enjoyable and normal?" 

The silence that follows is so dense they can almost see it with naked eyes. 

"Okay then," Raph pushes, "what's a thing humans do that's both enjoyable and doable for us?"

"That eliminates everything sewers related," Donnie thinks aloud. 

"And Turtle Tank related," Mikey adds. 

"And heroes related," Raph pouts. 

Leo snaps his fingers. "Ooh ho ho, I think I know just the thing!" he says in his best I'm-awesome-and-I-know-it voice, which makes everybody subconsciously tense. He flips his mask tails before making finger guns at his self proclaimed twin brother. "Donnie, you're loaded, right?"

Donnie cringes. 

He doesn't like this. 

He doesn't like this one bit. 

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April’s conception of normality might be a bit skewed. 

“I found Mayhem in the streets,” she’d told her parents when she’d first brought her new pet home. It’s a mutant dog thingie I picked in a mad goatman’s lab, she hadn’t said. And it also teleports, she most certainly hadn’t added. 

“I’m going for a sleepover at my friends’!” she tells her parents now as she leaves with her backpack. You know, the giant turtles living in the sewers, she doesn’t say. Whose father is a rat formerly known as an action star movie, she definitely doesn’t add. 

On her way to the nearest manhole, she tries to take a guess at whatever the plan might be, knowing full well it’s a lost battle. The boys have been rather vague with their invitation, like they often are. Hey, you should come over for pizza night, they say before dragging her in a maze of death. Yo April, wanna come see Leo make a fool of himself as a basketball mascot? they ask and then end up playing against a full team of mystic monsters. Not that she minds, really; she’d die before admitting it, but that maze pizza might’ve been the best she’s ever had, and she finds herself having fun all the way with whatever situation they get themselves into. 

The thing is, there’s nothing in there that she can bring up in casual conversations with her classmates, which leads to her barely sharing any of her personal life at school. Which leads to her feeling like an outcast, at times. 

April’s nature being what it is, she doesn’t mull over it. Right now, she’s quick to shake the blues away, and she’s excited as ever when she reaches the lair. The boys greet her with a glee she’s delighted to see, and they start speaking all at the same time, explaining they’re actually going out for the week-end. That’s hardly the first time something like that happens, April thinks, not reading too much into it - okay, maybe she’s getting a little suspicious over the Hamato family’s growing agitation. Raph’s hands are stimming, Leo and Mikey keep on interrupting each other, Donnie has his sacred board shorts on and Splinter is carrying an honest-to-God suitcase. With wheels. 

She can’t help but squint skeptically when they leave the Turtle Tank in the garage and get in an old-school van instead - probably a rental car. Raph makes himself as small as he can to fit at the back of the van, and Donnie hits the road as soon as everyone’s settled. April’s wariness is short lived, though, with how easy it is to vibe with the pop music blasting on speakers; how funny it is to take sides when Raph and Leo fight over which song to put up next, how good it feels to join Mikey and Donnie as they sing their lungs out, or how amazed she is at the way Splinter recognizes the landscapes around them as they get out of New York. 

April half expects their destination to be some kind of yokai residence, or maybe something along the lines of a mystic cave. She’s actually surprised when they pull up in front of a cute, cozy, perfectly typical little cottage next to a pond, lost in the middle of nowhere. 

The boys jump out of the van like the seats have been burning their butts; April reminds herself they’ve probably never been driving for this long before. She’s glad to stretch her legs, too, and the excitement takes over her once more as they go exploring their house for the night, bickering over who gets to take which room, making “whoops” of victory with every new discovery in the closets and whistling in appreciation at the size of the bathroom, which looks like it can handle even Raph. 

If April wasn’t so thrilled, she would marvel at how casually the whole week-end flows, at how domestic and relatable this sleepover is. She’s too busy hosting a cannonball competition in the pond to think about how different it feels from their clandestine dives into New York rooftops’ pools. Too busy decorating her homemade pizza to realize how common the ingredients are. She’s so focused on her Monopoly strategies to try and remember when was the last time she played board games with anyone, and she’s too captivated by the local frogs’ loud singing at night to bother with any kind of late evening existential questioning. 

Her sleep is so sound that the rays of the sun aren’t enough to wake her up the next morning; she gives a silent nod to her past self for putting up an alarm and sneaks her way downstairs, fully intending on making breakfast for everyone. She revels in the way the smell of eggs and bacon wakes the whole house up, laughs at Leo’s repetitive yawns, puffs up at Mikey’s praises on her cooking. She smiles as Donnie instinctively checks his phone, forbids Splinter to wash the dishes - that’s the least she can do to express her gratitude - and joins Raph for a little morning jog around the pond. When they pack up again, each of them seems lighter than they had before the trip. 

It’s only on their ride back to the city that it dawns on her. There are a lot of things they could’ve done differently this week-end. They could’ve gone to a mutants-friendly place, or gotten some fancy Hidden City pizza. They could’ve traveled with the help of Leo’s portals, or stayed in the lair for a movie night like they usually do. She knows how sincerely she would’ve enjoyed each of these options.   

But the truth is that she’s glad for the road trip. She’s charmed with the cottage, and baffled with the simplicity of it all. 

This is definitely something she could tell her classmates all about, if she wanted. And maybe she will, when the opportunity presents itself. 

Right now, though, she’s just content to lay her head against Mikey’s shoulder and to drift off, lulled by the sound of Leo’s bragging about some imaginary victory at RISK and by the smoothness of Donnie’s driving. 

From then on, they pick a new place to spend the week-end at least once a year, and they all look forward to those moments just as much as the Lair Games. 

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #april o'neil #sleepover #rise august art challenge #sariphantom #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #writing

[crimson-calligraphyx]

We sat in silence for what seemed like forever after I dropped that bomb on Noah. He looked at me in disbelief, his brows scrunched as he shook his head at me, but didn't say a word. I felt sick to my stomach, the anxiety bubbling within me as I waited for any sort of response from him—whether it be anger or denial, I just needed him to say something.

"That's impossible," he finally says. "She's only three; it's been five years since we've seen each other, Amelia." "I lied," I whispered, turning my attention to my trembling hands and began picking at my nails. "She's turning five in February." "Are you serious?" his tone was sharp, angry.

I nodded and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for what was to come out of his mouth next. "How could you keep something like that from me?" he shouts, and I flinch from the hostility. I deserved it, though. "Why didn't Nick ever tell me?"

I swallowed the lump that was growing in my throat and looked over at him while still picking at my nails absentmindedly. He was scowling at me, his jaw clenched and his eye grew dark with betrayal. "You never contacted me, I just assumed...you wouldn't care," I whispered the tail end of my sentence. "That's bullshit, Amelia, and you know it!" He stands up and distances himself, hastily scrubbing a hand down his face in aggravation. He winces, but continues, "I respected your wishes when you said goodbye and left you alone, but I did ask Nick how you were doing. I cared about you, and a part of me always will. I absolutely would have cared if you had told me you were pregnant with my child."

My eyes began to fill with tears as the guilt festered inside of me. All I could do was tell him that I was sorry, as if that would smooth things over, but I knew that it wouldn't. There were no words left to be exchanged—he was right. I should have told him from the very beginning.

I wanted to hug my knees to my chest for comfort, but I couldn't with my leg mangled the way that it was. Instead, I played with the dirt beside me, digging my nails in and scooping out small piles. I smiled sadly to myself as I reminisced, once again, the memory of helping Leora pick worms out of the soil. How I wished I were with her right now, placing worm after worm inside Tupperware with dirt and grass to 'keep as pets', followed by chasing after her to rinse her hands off with the garden hose before going back inside.

I missed the way her pig tails would bounce as she ran, the sound of her laugh, the sparkle of joy in her eyes when I finally caught her and held her to me, peppering kisses on her face. I hoped to God that I'd be able to experience that again.

"How are you holding up?" Noah asks out of the blue. I looked over at him; he was slumped against the wall adjacent to me with his arms folded over his chest, just staring up at the ceiling. I shrugged, "Fine, I guess. You?" "I meant with your leg," he answers flatly. "Oh," I mumbled, glancing down at my bloodied jeans. I didn't have the courage to look at the damage, afraid of what I'd see. "I'm trying my best to ignore it, honestly, but it hurts like a bitch."

He nods shallowly, then unfolds his arms and pushes himself up with a sigh. "Let's take a look at it," he mumbles, making his way over to me and crouching by my leg. "No, Noah, that's okay," I say in a panic, putting my arms out to stop him. I really didn't want to see it, knowing it would overwhelm me and I'd probably pass out or at minimum vomit from the sight. He sighs with a roll of his eye. "Don't look then if you're gonna be squeamish," he grumbles, reaching for my pant leg.

He starts to pull it up, and I immediately take in a sharp breath, looking away. I hiss as he peels the denim from my leg, having to tug it some as it got stuck to the blood from my wounds, surely reopening them—if any had began to close, that is. I cursed, gritting my teeth while tears pricked my eyes from the pain. He mutters a quick 'sorry', still working away at pulling the pant leg up.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I suddenly yell, sitting up straight when he moves my ankle, sending a flare of pain up my leg. I grit my teeth and panted, the shock going straight to my head and leaving me lightheaded. "Shit, I'm sorry," he apologizes, and continues to hold my foot in place, supporting the weight with his other hand under my calf. "It's uh...definitely broken," he informs me. "We gotta figure out a way to set it in place." "There's literally nothing here to do that," I whimper. "This is fucking hopeless." "No. We're getting the fuck outta here once we brace your leg," he says sternly.

I looked at him through teary eyes; he had that look of determination set in stone. "I'm gonna lower your leg now, okay?" I took a deep breath and nodded, bracing myself as he placed my leg back down as delicately as he could. I chomped down on my lip and groaned as he did, him shooting me an apologetic expression before making his way to the now boarded up window.

He tried to remove one of the flanks, clawing and pulling at them aggressively, but to no avail. He sighs, giving up and making his way to the door where he starts to bang on it profusely, hollering for Charles to come down here and help me—like I had when Noah was ill. He was persistent though, and kept beating on the door, screaming profanities, trying to egg Charles on to get him down here. I sighed and leaned against the wall, rolling my head back and forth and accepted the fact that no matter how hard Noah tried, our captor would come down only when he felt like it.

“Noah, just give it a rest already. You’re going to exhaust yourself, and we haven’t eaten in at least a week,” I tell him. He groans with frustration before moving away from the door, returning to his original spot on the ground. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs, closing his eye and resting his head against the wall. “Maybe he’ll feed us soon.” “I hope so,” I mumbled as I resumed burrowing my fingers in the dirt.

I kept digging until my nails bent backwards unexpectedly, connecting with something solid. I hissed, shaking my hand out from the uncomfortable sensation, and peered into the hole. I saw what I originally thought was a rock, but it was too broad, too smooth, having no impurities that a rock would have. I furrowed my brows at the item and resumed digging around it, hoping I could pull whatever it was out of the ground.

“What is it?” Noah asks, causing me to look over at him. He stared back at me in curiosity, head slightly tilted with his brows pulled together. I bring my attention back to the dirt, “I’m…not sure,” I mumbled, trying my best to brush more dirt away. “It’s not a rock, I can tell you that much.”

He shuffles against the ground, making his way over to me and places a hand on mine, having me halt the excavation with my fingers. I bring my hand into my lap as he takes a look at what was in the ground. The crease in his brows only deepens, uncertainty painting his features as he tries to dig around the object. “It’s some sort of tool, or something,” he mutters as he begins to unearth more of it, revealing a prominent, flattened edge. “That makes sense,” I nodded slowly, remembering the scenery from when I momentarily escaped. “Looked like we were on an old farming compound from what I saw while I was out there. What kind of tool, you think?”

He shakes his head back and forth with a shrug, still working at loosening the dirt around it. He eventually exposes a part of it that was hollowed out and wedges his finger through it, trying to wiggle it free from the earth. It wasn’t moving much, but Noah was determined to get this thing into our possession for one reason or another. He only stops when the sound of heavy footsteps start to descend the stairs, quickly positioning himself so that his leg is covering up the hole.

I shoot him a quizzical look but didn’t have time to ask him why he was hiding it as Charles barges in, causing me to jump out of my skin. I reached for my ankle with a cry, the slightest movement sending pain right up my leg.

“Oh, dear,” Charles mutters as he crouches by me and drops the water and crackers he had in his hand, “what have you done to yourself, Alice?” “You did this,” I snapped, glaring daggers at him. “Me?” He puts a hand on his chest, genuinely seeming offended that I blamed him for my injuries. “Now, now Alice, you know that isn’t true. This was caused by your foolish actions,” he chuckles, shaking his head in dismissal. “I did not cause this, you sick fuck,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You set out a fucking bear trap in hopes of—” Charles’ hand was now clamped over my mouth as he scowled at me, bringing his face unbearably close to mine.

“Listen here, you little bitch. You escaped again, you got yourself hurt because of it,” he digs his fingernails into my flesh, bringing tears to my eyes as I panted through my nose from the panic settling in. “You can figure out a way to fix your leg yourself,” he spits, throwing my head away from him, my body folding into Noah.

“You fucker!” Noah tries to stand, but I tug on his shirt to stop him. “Amelia, let go of me—” “No, Noah. It’s not worth it,” I begged, letting out my cries. “Just…just let me deal with him myself, okay?” He remains silent, his chin trembling from how hard his teeth were clenched as he searched my eyes for an explanation. I couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason, I just knew that I couldn’t let him get hurt because of me again, when it’s me Charles wants, not him.

I can see the pain, the fear, the rage in Noah’s eye—the same eyes he shared with Leora—and in this very moment, I knew what I had to do if I ever wanted a chance to be reunited with her. I had been so reluctant towards Noah's suggestion originally, but I accepted that this was the only option we had left.

I loosened my hold on his shirt, my eyes lingering on his face for a moment longer before I turned towards Charles, who had since begun walking back towards the door. I took a deep breath to compose myself. “Charles…Charles, my love,” I called out to our captor, swallowing harshly as I waited for him him turn back around. “I’m so sorry for running from you, but please,” I gesture to my leg and let out a feigned sob, “I’m in so much pain; I need you to take care of me. I-I promise I won't try to run again.”

I held my breath as I waited for his reaction, praying that this tactic would work. When he finally turned around, I saw that it was like someone had wiped the scowl clean off his face and replaced it with genuine concern as he made his way back over to me. “Oh, dear Alice,” he says gently, crouching by me once again, sorrow bleeding from his eyes. “Yes, of course, you need my help.”

He runs the back of his hand down my cheek, and my skin crawls regardless of how tender his touch was. I close my eyes and take an unsteady breath, trying to calm my rampant heart while he snakes an arm behind my back and the other behind my knees. He picks me up bridal style, leaving me no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up, and I holler in pain from the lack of support my ankle now has. “Shh, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your leg, like the good husband that I am, dear,” he coos while bringing us towards the door.

Through blurry eyes, I caught the look of unease on Noah’s face as I’m brought through the doorway, the door shutting and locking shortly thereafter.

|Chapter 9|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #fanfic writing #romance #second chance romance #enemies to lovers

[fics-n-stuff-n-stuff]

Natsu Dragneel/Lucy Heartfilia Gray Fullbuster/Juvia Lockser Levy McGarden/Gajeel Redfox

all fairy tail characters basically -

Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic Follows Fairy tail but with my own twists set in modern day Fluff and Angst Romance Friendship developing feelings Lucy has new spirits I checked constellations and gave her ones I thought were cool

Out of Character probably because it is an AU

Summary

Lucy is thrown into a world she didn’t know existed. Join her as she unravels this new world full of magic that brings adventure, romance and destruction along with it.

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Just a modern re-telling of Fairy tail following its arcs with a few twists and turns along the way💞

You can also read it here

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Chapter 18

The key, as it turns out, wanted them to go back to the forest.

It seemed to be leading Natsu and Lucy deeper into the woods compared to their light walk earlier that day.

The greenwood surrounding the East side of Sakuramori Village was vast and spread out for several kilometers. It was known for being tricky to navigate, due to the density of the tree line even in the harshest winters.

The earth was covered in snow as they trekked through the fields, and everything around them was covered in a white blanket, with a slight peeking of greenery from some of the trees.

Looking around Lucy wondered just how far into the forest they were going.

They'd been walking for a couple of hours at least by this point and she was about 50% sure that they were lost. Though Natsu would probably be able to sniff out the town, so she wasn't too worried.

Their walk was quiet for the most part.

Natsu's heat was still helping to keep her warm from the biting January air and the sound of snow crunching and sloshing followed them as they in turn followed the broken key piece to an unknown location.

"It's warming up again, I think we're close to wherever the hell it's leading us." Lucy muttered to Natsu, who was walking a few steps behind her.

He was insistent on keeping watch of their backs in case unexpected creatures were lurking in the forest.

"Well, we're a long way from the Village, that's for sure. And I can hear running water coming up ahead, a river maybe? What do you think's out here anyway?" She could hear him ask from behind her as they continued their way through the woods.

"I have no idea, maybe there are ruins of a temple or some kind of hidden cave." Lucy speculated as she continued following the tugging object.

"I remember reading that my ancestors built shrines and temples dedicated to the stars." She told him as she automatically went to look up at the night sky.

It was a clear winter's night and this far out into the woods you could usually see them, but the tree lines were preventing her from catching a glimpse of the various constellations painted in the sky.

Looking at the stars always reminded Lucy of her mom, and how they would camp out in their garden during the summer months and spend hours naming and counting the constellations.

"That was a long time ago, but there are remains of both found in a couple of places around Fiore. I was actually thinking about, maybe, visiting one of them." She trailed off absentmindedly as they continued walking.

It was one of those moments where Lucy wished her mother were here with her, and they could go see the ruins together.

And not for the first time since her death and finding out about her magic, Lucy wished that Layla would have shared more of their history with her.

Not for the first time, Lucy wished that her mother never left to begin with, and sometimes when she was younger, she wished it was her father who died instead.

Was that selfish of her?

To wish for such things?

Or was it childish naivety?

Her train of thought was cut off when the trees suddenly parted and they found themselves entering a large clearing.

It was a vast space, currently covered in snow and with a ledge overlooking a beautiful waterfall.

How far into the forest were they, to end up in such a place, Lucy wondered as she looked around.

As a child, Lucy liked studying and memorizing maps.

She wasn't allowed to travel anywhere or leave her estate, so she found her escape in books, charting the stars and pouring over various maps.

And though her memory was somewhat muddled over the years, she was sure they were closer to Mountain Village than Sakuramori if they were near a waterfall.

And just as she'd suspected earlier, the stars were lighting up the sky beautifully and she could see several of her spirits gracing the heavens.

On a closer look, Lucy could see that they were almost unnaturally bright.

Her spirits' constellations, that is.

The rest of the stars seemed to be shining, for lack of a better term, normally.

Lucy could see Aquarius, Virgo, Cancer, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Libra, and Taurus glimmering extraordinarily back at her.

It almost looked like the stars themselves were dancing.

Which made her wonder if it was because she was led to this snowy meadow by the broken spirit key of their supposed leader, or if this was their way of apologizing for burning her and refusing to come out earlier.

"I think this is it." Lucy voiced her thoughts as she slowly started walking closer to the ledge, wanting to take in the beauty of the Waterfall.

The broken piece of Leo's key was still simmering in her hand, but no longer tugging.

'What is it about this place?' She thought as she looked around.

Sure it was a beautiful sight of nature, but why would a broken spirit key lead them here?

But then again, what was it doing in the museum? Why was the key broken in the first place? And who sent the fake job request to Fairy Tail?

There were too many questions jumbling around in her head that Lucy didn't know where to start.

"Okay, what do we do now?" Natsu's voice pulled her from her thoughts and brought her back to the clearing.

She turned from the waterfall to look back at him.

He was standing casually in the middle of the clearing, hands in his pockets as he surveyed the surrounding area.

As if sensing her gaze, he turned back to look at her.

"I- I'm not sure. The key is still hot to the touch, but the tugging stopped." She said as she looked down at the hand holding half of Leo. "So we're in the right place, but I have no idea wh- " Lucy's sentence was cut off when another sharp tug pulled her to a large stone at the ledge, overlooking the waterfall.

Not expecting the sudden pull made her stumble several steps before she fell to her knees next to the rock.

"Fuck."

"Luce, you good?" Natsu was at her side in an instant at her sudden topple, one of his hands on her back with the other gripping her arm to help steady her. "I'm okay, it just startled me."

Lucy explained as she moved her gaze to inspect the rock, expecting to find a clue as to what was going on.

Only to see it was just a plain slab, there was nothing engraved, and there were no markings on it.

Nothing that would indicate any importance to a Spirit Summoner.

"There must be something, the key literally dragged us here." Lucy said with a hint of humor in her voice. "I can't find anything written on the stone though."

There was a moment of silence between them as they both started at the rock, not knowing what to do next.

"What do you think it could be?" Lucy turned to look back at him over her shoulder.

She was stumped as to what they should do, and she had a feeling that Natsu would have thought of something she wouldn't have.

He stared back at her for a few seconds, looking properly stunned that she asked for his thoughts on the matter.

"Maybe the other half is buried under the rock, or something?" He said with a scratch to his head.

"Hm, that's not a bad idea." Lucy said as she looked back at the rock and then at Natsu. "Wanna help me dig? I don't think Virgo will come out to help with this one." She asked with a smile and he nodded as he crouched down next to her.

"I just want to know why my spirits are so insistent on withholding the truth." Lucy huffed out suddenly as she watched Natsu melt the snow surrounding the rock and warm the earth so it would be easier for them to dig.

"They obviously know what happened to Leo! And none of them were willing to come out and tell me the truth." She continued ranting, feeling the need to vent suddenly.

"They must have their reasons, I mean Virgo seemed like she wanted to tell you, maybe they're following orders or something." Natsu answered her ramblings with his line of thinking as he started digging through the earth.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, but whose orders would they be following?" Lucy wondered out loud as she moved to help him.

"Grampa Crux said that Leo is the leader of the Zodiacs. Is it his orders that they're following? I swear every time I find out something new about my magic, it only leads to more questions than answers." Lucy huffed as she dug through the earth.

Now that she thinks about it, she doesn't know anything about the inner workings of the Spirit Realm.

Was it a Democracy? Monarchy?

Did they have any type of established government official or was it something completely different to how people here live?

"I have no doubt that you will get your answers, Luce." Natsu reassured her with a smile.

She smiled back at him and looked back to their hands in the dirt.

Lucy wanted to tell him that she believed he'd find Igneel someday, but she didn't want to stir up any unwanted memories, so she focused on their task.

The earth was cold beneath her fingers as they dug through it, and she knew that it would be hell getting the dirt out of her nails.

But it would all be worth it if they found some answers.

Natsu, it would seem, had no problem getting dirty. It didn't surprise Lucy per se, it was just a shock to see every time.

He shoveled his way through the earth at a quicker pace, taking out more of the dirt than her, and within a few minutes of digging, there was a glimpse of something gold underneath the layers.

It looked bigger than a key, but it was something.

"There, I see gold." Lucy called as she moved to shovel as much dirt as she could with her hands.

Natsu moved at her words, and with his help, they managed to dig out a golden box.

"It's kinda heavy." Natsu said as he weighed it in his hand before offering it to her. "Do you wanna open it here?"

Lucy looked between him and the box once, and then once more before taking a deep breath and grabbing it out of his hand.

"I can do this." She said under her breath as a form of reassurance, not caring that Natsu would be able to hear her talking to herself.

The box was heavy, and she suspected it was because it was made of solid gold.

With almost trembling fingers, Lucy worked the box open and was only half surprised to find the second half of Leo's key inside.

"You were right." She said as she turned the open container to Natsu. "That was good thinking."

His response to her words was peculiar, at least from what she'd seen of him so far.

His spine straightened, shoulders back and he beamed back at her, a slight blush on his cheeks.

He seemed bashful to a point at her praise, and she found it adorable.

"But how did this get here? I mean someone must have purposefully buried it here." Lucy asked not expecting Natsu to answer, more so resorting to asking the questions out loud.

If only to see if that would help her think of an explanation for all of this.

"It makes no sense."

"Well, if someone buried it, that means they didn't want it found by just anyone. That's gotta be a good thing, right?" Natsu asked and Lucy had to agree.

But who would do such a thing? Was it her mother? Or someone else entirely?

Feeling a headache coming on from everything that's happened in one day, Lucy suddenly felt exhausted and ready to get out for the snow.

"Well, we should get going, no use in staying here in the cold. We can take the train to Magnolia in the afternoon and investigate more of this when we get back to Fairy Tail." Lucy finally said as she stood up and dusted the snow off her pants.

"Ugh, do we have to take a train?" Natsu whined as he got to his feet.

"We could take the bus, or rent a car. Although I don't have a license, and you obviously can't drive, so bus or train?"  She gave him the options and suppressed a laugh at how his face turned multiple shades of green as he pondered his fate.

"Bwah, fine! Train it i-" He didn't finish his sentence, and in a split second Natsu's demeanor shifted from partly nauseous and hunched over, clutching his stomach to on guard. Standing tall and sniffing the air.

"Natsu, what-" He cut her off with a hand gesture and continued tracking whatever it was he smelt.

"Someone is approaching the clearing, it's two people." He said suddenly and Lucy felt her heart start beating faster in her chest.

"They're not together, I think, and one is closer than the other. I don't know how I didn't catch it earlier." He muttered as he turned his head to the path they came from and took another deep breath. "It's cheap perfume and something sinister on the first person. The second one-"  Natsu stopped for a moment.

"The second one smells like death."

Now that freaked her out.

"So what I'm hearing is we're in for a fight and none of my offensive spirits want to come out? Fan-fucking-tastic." Lucy mumbled the last part under her breath as her hand went to her belt.

She took Scutum out of the loop and readied herself for whatever was coming their way.

"Should we move to intercept them, or stay put and wait for them to come to us?" She asked him as she gripped Scutum.

Natsu turned to look at her and pondered over the question for a second. "Stay put, no reason in leavin' when they're the ones after us. They'll probably just follow us back to town. It's safer this way."

Lucy nodded, agreeing with his logic.

This far out in the woods, only the animals would be witness to whatever showdown was coming.

As they waited, Lucy, for what felt like the hundredth time that day was irritated with her spirits.

She saw them as her friends and her partners and trusted them with her life. But they obviously didn't have the same kind of trust in her.

What other explanation was there for their actions, why were they not letting her summon them still?

Even when it was for her protection.

"The perfume smells familiar, I can't remember from where though." Natsu brought her out for thoughts and she turned to look at him.

"Well, a lot of women use similar perfumes, I'm sure you caught a whiff of it somewhere." Lucy tried to reason as they waited for their enemies to approach.

"How far away?" She asked after a few minutes of waiting, she was getting antsy with anticipation and anxiety.

"Getting closer by the second. But one of them is lagging behind a bit." He told her and she nodded in return.

It was no more than five minutes later when they saw a figure emerging from the trees.

It was a woman, not surprising, considering the perfume Natsu smelled.

What was surprising was the fact that it was the same woman they'd talked to in the museum that morning.

What did she say her name was?

Helga?

No, Helena! The head curator.

What the hell was going on?

"What are you doing here?" Lucy decided to ask when the woman stopped a few meters from them.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Heartfilia." A disembodied voice rang through the air when the woman opened her mouth, and Lucy felt a shiver run down her spine.

Natsu was in front of her in an instant, as if sensing a threat in the greeting and Lucy gripped Scutum tighter in her hand as she looked over his shoulder back to Helena.

Only it wasn't her.

The woman that they spoke to this morning was not the being standing in front of them now.

Was she possessed? Is that a thing?

Lucy honestly had no idea.

"Now, now little guard dog, or should say Drakon, there is no need for that. I am not here to hurt the precious summoner, I am only here for the key." She was taunting Natsu with her words as she moved a step closer to them.

The tone in her voice seemed to be almost implying that while she wasn't here for Lucy yet, the day was coming.

A shiver ran down Lucy's spine as a name she had seen so many times while reading about her family and magic echoed around her head.

Zeref.

"Like hell I'm gonna let you touch Lucy or any of her keys!" Natsu yelled back at the woman, who in turn only offered a smirk.

But it looked more like a snarl on her face.

"Well it's a good thing Leo isn't one of her keys then. That is all I want, the pieces. What use is a broken key to spirit summoner?" It seems the taunting was turned onto her this time, as Helena directed the question towards Lucy.

And she could tell that Natsu was getting rilled up with her words.

Lucy could almost see the smoke coming from him as he stayed on guard in front of her.

"I am the last of the spirit summoners, it is my duty to protect the keys. That includes broken ones." Lucy shot back, not letting this thing parading around in this poor woman's body intimidate her.

"Have it your way then, I'm sure it will be no problem getting rid of you, I would be doing you a mercy and our Lord a favor at the same time." The threat was clear this time and Lucy did not wait another second before moving her right hand through the air.

"Open, gate of the shield, Scutum!" She called and the shield appeared in a flash of golden light. "It is my pleasure to guard you, Lady Heartifilia." He greeted her upon arrival.

"Thank you, Scutum." Lucy said as she grabbed ahold of him and took a step back, letting her partner take point in this fight.

Natsu, following her strategy, moved before the woman could attack and went to take her down.

"Natsu! I think she's possessed, that's a thing that can happen, right?" She called out after him, hoping that he would listen to her and answer.

Lucy learned the hard way that just because he can hear you, doesn't mean he'll listen.

"It is very much ' a thing ' Lady Heartfilia, and I am afraid you are right. The woman is possessed poor thing." Scutum informed her and Lucy's heart dropped as turned back to the battle and saw Natsu clock Helena in the face with his fire fists, and send her flying back.

'Idiot.'

"Natsu! You can't hurt her, she's human! Just knock her out without using magic, so no fire! She's being possessed!" She yelled at him again, knowing that he would listen this time.

Natsu looked at Lucy and then back at Helena, and they both saw the split second where her eyes turned a yellowish red before flashing back to their normal brown, a smirk on her face as she sneered back at them.

"Smart little summoner you are." Helena said with a laugh.

Lucy heard him let out a curse as he realized what was happening and quickly changed his tactics.

As soon as Natsu stopped coming after her with fire, Helena seemed to be dodging his attacks with ease and trying to advance towards Lucy.

But there were no attempts at attacking on her part.

"Why isn't she attacking?" Lucy wondered out loud as she watched Natsu lunge at her again, only for the brunette to swerve the punch and fall back.

"I suspect it is because of the form it chose to possess. As you said, she is human, and while the creature that is possessing her is a powerful one, the human body has its limitations." Scutum once again explained, and Lucy was grateful to have at least one spirit that would answer her questions without any riddles.

"Thank you for explaining that, I don't really know that much about how magic works and what the limitations are." Lucy said to the shield.

"Hell, I barely know anything about my own magic." She mumbled with an almost bitter chuckle as she watched Natsu finally wrestle the brunette to the ground, pin her face forward, and knock her unconscious.

"Gatcha ya slippery bastard." She heard him say before he turned to her. "Ya got any rope, Luce?"

"Yeah, give me a second." She said back and let go of the shield. "Thank you Scutum, you can go back now." She told him with a smile.

"The pleasure was mine Lady Heartfilia." He said with a tilt as he disappeared in the same golden light he came from.

Lucy rustled through her bag for a moment before finding a rope and those anti-magic cuffs.

"Here." She tossed the rope to Natsu as she walked towards them.

She watched as Natsu tied the rope around her torso, with her arms behind her back, and once he was done, Lucy decided to put the cuffs on for good measure.

"Maybe they'll keep whatever's possessing her at bay until we can find a way to help her." She said when Natsu gave her a weird look.

"Well that wasn't fun at all, I couldn't even fight properly." He pouted as he went to stretch out.

"I'm sorry that the fight wasn't up to your standards, I'm just glad that you managed to knock her out without too much damage." Lucy said as she looked down at the unconscious woman.

'Was she possessed when we talked to her this morning as well?' She wondered.

Was Helena the one who sent the job request to Fairy Tail?

That was the most likely answer. It was probably in hopes of luring Lucy out and having her find the second half of the key.

Whoever was possessing Helena is working for, or worships Zeref. The dark mage that is responsible for the death of seemingly every spirit summoner.

'What could they possibly want with a broken spirit key?' A shiver ran down Lucy's spine at the thought.

Nothing good.

Gods, when did her life become a fantasy drama?

"Do you know who we can get to help her? I mean we can't just leave the woman possessed." Lucy decided to focus on what she could do now, instead of pondering over uncertain things.

Now was not the time for that.

Speaking of time.

"It's almost 4 am, I can't call Mira now. We'll have to wait till morning." She started rambling as she paced back and forth through the snow.

"Do you think we should try and get some answers from the thing that's possessing her? Or would that be a bad idea?" Lucy continued pacing as her thoughts ran wild.

"Why are they coming after spirit keys if only summoners can use them?" The questions poured out of her mouth and she could feel herself starting to panic.

Feeling dizzy all of a sudden, her knees buckled under her and Lucy found herself falling on the snowy ground.

"Hey, hey, Luce, what happened?" Natsu, who up until that point had been watching her pace with a worried expression, asked as he crouched by her side. "Are you okay?" She looked up at him and saw the wide-eyed panic in his gaze.

"Sorry." Lucy replied automatically "I got dizzy for a moment and lost balance." She said as she went to slowly sit up. "It's been a long day, I probably used up more magic than I realized. I think that Leo's half was draining a bit of it while it was leading us here."

Natsu's shoulders dropped at her words and he puffed smoke in her face. "Don't scare me like that." He mumbled as he helped her stand up.

Lucy coughed slightly as she stood and shot him a glare.

"So what are we going to do with her?" She asked him and he looked back at the unconscious woman.

"Well, we can take her to town, and call the Council, they'll send someone to expel whatever is possessing her and deal with everything." Natsu answered with a shrug of his shoulder and turned back to face her.

"We have one more to go." He reminded her and glanced back at the tree line surrounding them.

Lucy turned to look around, not seeing anything.

She had completely forgotten that he said two people were approaching.

The threats from the being possessing Helena shook her enough to temporarily forget.

"Are they near?" She found her asking as she watched him concentrate on his hearing and smell.

What was it like to have such enhanced senses? Being able to hear, and smell everything around you. 

Lucy wrinkled her nose at the thought of smelling everything and everyone around her.

'No wonder he gets sick on trains, with his senses.' She thought as she watched him try to determine how far away the second threat was.

"Almost here, they seem to be moving slowly." Natsu finally answered with a scrunch to his nose before adding. "They smell like death and decay."

He turned from the forest back to her and took several steps in her direction.

"So they're dying?" Lucy asked, finding it fascinating that he could smell something like that. "What does death smell like?" She asked before her brain could filter it.

Natsu looked at her with a tilt of his head as he pondered her words. "No one's ever asked me to describe what something like that smells like." He told her as he looked for the right words.

"Rotting, but not like fruit, it's much worse. With hints of spoiled fish and sulfur. This one has a distinct magic scent as well, so I don't know what we're dealing with." He answered and Lucy was torn between being amazed by his abilities and regretting asking him.

What else can his senses tell him?

From what she's been able to observe and learn in her time in Fairy Tail, it was obvious that everyone thought Natsu was just a one-track mind.

She heard Levy and Mira call him dense on several occasions, and Gray is constantly calling him stupid.

His reaction to her asking for his input earlier only solidified that he assumed she thought the same.

But Lucy felt like she could see more of him than the others. That he lets her see more of him, even if he doesn't realize it.

It was in the way he would randomly tense up while they were in public out of nowhere.

How he would sometimes pick fights with people at random and for seemingly no reason.

How he knew exactly when during the month not to piss her (and all the women of Fairy Tail) off, and treat her to chocolate raspberry cakes.

It's in the way he fights.

Going head first is the usual ammo, yes. But he is a master strategist, she's seen it firsthand.

No, Natsu Dragneel is anything but dumb, or dim-witted. It was just something he let other people assume of him.

Why was that?

"Whoever they are, how much of a threat could they be if they're dying?" Lucy said hopefully, and Natsu shrugged back.

The sound of crunching snow made them both turn to look at the left side of the trees, where a figure could be seen hobbling slowly toward them.

Natsu moved in front of Lucy as they both waited for the figure to emerge.

It seemed to be a man.

Unnaturally pale and skinny, cheeks hobbled out, with shaggy orange hair.

He was dressed in a fancy, well-tailored suit. Only it was tattered and stained in several places.

The look on his face as he saw Natsu and Lucy standing in the clearing was unreadable.

There was a tense moment of silence where no one moved, and they started at each other.

"You found it." The man said with a hint of relief in his voice.

#fairy tail #fanfic #nalu #fairy tail nalu #lucy heartifilla #natsu x lucy #fairy tail fanfic #fairy tail fic #ft nalu #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #nalu ff #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction #nalu fairytail #nalu headcanons #nalu fluff #fairy tail ff #fairy tail fanfiction #natsu x lucy fic #natsu / lucy #natsu/lucy #natsu dragneel #natsu dragon slayer #lucy heartfilia

[moral-terpitude]

Misadventures - Part 3

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,688

A/N: i went for a portfolio review for an apprenticeship the other day, and got to watch a tattoo get done while I was there! I had this wrote first, but the part about forehead wrinkles is no joke! I wasn’t even doing anything and I was tired by the time I left! This took me so long to write and it is so short 😭

so what's left to do · what’s left to say · stop making friends, just us · I'll decompose with you

By the time 7 hours had passed, Quinn was satisfied with the progress they had made. All the outlining was done, and with the wrinkle between her brows now permanently etched there from the face she made when she focused, amongst all the other ways her body was protesting, despite them taking a break every hour or so, the color would have to wait for another day.

“Okay,” she wiped down the irritated skin as gently as she could, which unfortunately was far from gentle, “the saniderm needs to stay on for three days. Any fluid pooling underneath is normal, but if the seal breaks it needs to be removed. Instead of removing it like a bandaid,” she continued giving the memorized speech as she applied the clear film carefully, “stretch the film to break the adhesive so it doesn’t remove any of the ink. Everything else is carefully articulated on those papers, because anything I seem to tell people that goes beyond three days of aftercare, they seem to forget, so, it’s on the paper.”

She heard him chuckle as she finished pressing all the air out of the clear film. Quinn hadn’t noticed until then as he stood there with his head hung, letting her go about her business as she absentmindedly let her eyes wander along the curve of his neck, that he smelled so good. Something warm, woodsy, a hint of vanilla maybe, too.

The music had stopped long ago, which meant the disgruntled grumble her stomach let out, was heard by them both.

Discarding the gloves and all the other tainted supplies into the hazmat bin, Quinn sprayed down and wiped all the surfaces that could possibly be sanitized, before turning off the big light over her workstation.

She stretched, checking her phone before heading back to the closet to retrieve the sweater.

“Here, I should probably return this to its owner.”

“Thanks.” Now with clothes readjusted and redressed, the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth could have knocked the wind out of her.

Tommy followed her to the front of the shop, settling the last thing hanging over their heads for the day: money. Quinn counted the bills, nails clacking against the counter before tucking it away in the safe under the counter.

“So, technically, we could have started on color and shading today, but, that would have been a lot,” she tapped through her phone calendar, not wanting to boot the computer back up to go into the shop planner, “healing time, is about two to three weeks, but I think a little longer would be better,” Quinn looked up to see him nodding intently, “I think six to eight weeks would probably be best.”

“Can we go nine? I know I’m not going to be available at the tail end of that timeframe.”

“Hmm,” she scrolled further through the calendar and the haunting reminder of her sisters upcoming marriage stared at her, nine weeks away, “I’ll have to push it out to ten. Or we can go seven.”

“Ten is good.” Tommy agreed, trying to focus and ignore the way her hips were pressed into the lower part of the counter in a familiar fashion, as they deliberated a date and time before coming to a decision they could agree upon.

“Listen,” she stretched, arms above her head, shirt lifting as she did so for just a moment, “do you want to go get food? Cooking for one person sucks, and I’m starving. My treat. I’ve just got to clean a few things up yet.”

Her eyes were wide with something akin to innocence, maybe just obliviousness, but Tommy wasn’t going to turn her down.

“Sure. I’ve different clothes in the car. I’ll change while you clean, yeah?”

***

They walked in silence for the last of the block as Quinn tried her best to stay two steps ahead of him, leading the way.

She couldn’t have been too much taller than Charlie, Tommy wagered, at 13 he was a little over 5 foot and she looked to be somewhere close to the same.

“December or January Capricorn?” She asked, slowing her pace as she pulled the lip balm for her bag, brushing it over her lips before tossing it back inside.

“What?”

She smiled, taking in the baffled expression he wore, one brow quirked as his eyes met hers.

Raindrops spattered on the concrete around them, enough to color the gray a bit darker but not so much to soak through their clothes.

She held on to her purse strap with both hands, nails drumming along the strap. “The way the major arcana of the tarot deck correlates with astrology, the card of The Devil is the one equivalent to Capricorn, and, I just saw it and figured…”

She trailed off, wondering if she should have kept her mouth shut as they continued to weave in and out through the crowd of people.

“December.”

“Hmm.”

Quinn scooted as close as comfortable to the person in front of them, barely making it under the awning of the carryout only restaurant. Smooshed in the midst of the moving crowd there wasn’t much of a way to be cold, even with the temperature dropping from the rain.

“Fuck,” Tommy sounded exasperated before he even had his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, which was when Quinn noticed it was ringing, “Sorry, I’ve to take this.”

He was already three steps away before she called after him, “Wait, what do you want!”

He shook his head, answering the phone before speaking, “Hold on John,” turning the mouthpiece away, and pausing in stride, “whatever’s good, yeah?”

When Tommy returned Quinn was perched in the center of the bench, tapping on her phone, carefully holding two cans between her legs.

“Lemon or orange?” She hadn’t looked up yet, strands of hair falling in her face as she finished answering an email.

Tommy could see where she had started to peel back the foil lid to the orange can, must have thought better of it, and decided to wait to give him a choice.

“Lemon.”

Quinn relinquished the can, dropping her phone rather unceremoniously back into her bag, “You just look like someone who would drink San Pelligrino.”

“I think that’s supposed to be an insult, innit?”

“I didn’t say that. Saying you look like someone who drinks La Croix would be an insult.” Quinn shrugged, a small shake of her head betrayed by a smile as she offered out two separate items wrapped in foil. “Chicken or Beef?”

“Either.”

“Suit yourself.”

***

“Where the fuck have you been?” Hannah called out as Quinn shut the fridge. She took the stairs one at a time down into the living room, the worst part about living in a split level apartment in her opinion. Her eyes struggled to focus on Hannah in the flashing light from the tv, the only thing that illuminated the living room, until she finally saw her sprawled out under the blanket on the couch.

Gesturing to the two towels she cracked open the bottle of water, taking a long drink before speaking, “I’ve been in the shower.”

“No shit, I could hear your vibrator all the way out here.” Hannah sat up, the small pony tail on top of her head bobbing about as she reached for the remote to mute the TV, “You just never usually get home this late.”

Quinn shifted with a shrug, leaning against the bannister, “Yeah I’ve got more time to kill now since I got that laser hair removal, so I have to do something while I’m in there.”

She took another long swig of the water, glancing up to the microwave to check the time, “It’s not even that late.”

“What, you fuck him in that blacked out Range Rover and find out it wasn’t all that great?”

“No.” She chewed her lip, realizing the answer was a tad too quick, despite being the truth. “We went to Mamoun’s and got food and then he dropped me back off at the studio.”

“Like a date? You usually go to Mamoun’s by yourself.” It had been one of the first places Quinn had ventured alone when she went to New York, not realizing until the second or third time she went that there was one closer than Greenwich Village.

“No, like two people who hadn’t ate all day just being normal people and getting food.” She sighed, rubbing her eye less than gently before retreating back up the steps, “I’m going to bed, wasn’t expecting the Spanish Inquisition when I got home.”

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition, Quinn!”

Quinn closed the door to her room without another word, knowing she had set Hannah up for that without even realizing it.

After finding adequate pajamas in the form of an oversized shirt and underwear, she thought she would crawl in bed and immediately fall asleep, but a half hour later and she was still staring at the ceiling.

It always seemed like she met people twice in her life. A brief encounter, barely really knowing them, before she got to actually know them.

The Hannah she knew from at the MoMA and then at the shop, and now as her roommate, were almost three different people.

Dalton, her best friend from back home who she missed dearly, had first pushed her down on the playground before they became friends in high school.

She sighed, rolling to her stomach and stretching.

She had met Gerard at a party she never should have been at. As if that didn’t set the tone for the whole relationship. Wrong place, wrong time, she pondered.

As she tried to fall asleep she ran through her conversations with Tommy through the day. Clearly, as long as he didn’t bail, she would get to see him at least one more time, but would she ever see him after that?

It wasn’t that she didn’t have a returning client or two, but something about the easiness of being around him made her want to see him more than one more time.

[hypnolurker]

Silly Bunny

ORIGINAL IMAGE HERE

"Please you have to help me! I just escaped from the club down the street, there’s something really messed up going on there. I just took a job there to make some quick cash. I was just meant to serve drinks, the bunny ears and revealing outfit were a bit embarrassing but they just insisted that’s their dress code...and it was good money so I went with it. But they were doing something to me...to all of us." The distraught bunny girl begged to the first person she had found upon getting what she felt was a safe distance from the dreaded club.

While her voice sounded terrified, her body swayed and wriggled softly, as if full of restless energy. Her hips rolled in am oddly sensual way and her idle hands seemed unable to stray too far from her voluptuous chest.

"I swear I'm not crazy! This is gonna sound insane I know but hear me out. They're hypnotizing people! They brainwashed us into being compliant, docile bunny girls. I don’t know exactly how it works but I experienced it first hand. I'm not a slut or anything, but within a few days of working there the customers would reach out and rub my ass or tits through my uniform and I just accepted it like it was completely normal. God I don’t know why I did that, I want to slap those perverts so badly."

The bunny continued her story, her expression oddly failing to match her words. As she spoke with anger and desperation, her face never managed to show an ounce of disgust or fear or hatred. Quite the opposite, her eyes were soft and pleading and she would pucker her lips or gently bite her lower lip between sentences as if trying to seduce her would-be saviour. Her hands continued to move anxiously near her chest, tugging at her clothes and generally drawing attention away from her face and towards her ample chest.

"I was just supposed to serve drinks, but they made us dance, and kiss each other and...and shake our asses to show off these stupid cotton tail butt plugs they had us wear and..."

Suddenly the strained material that she was absentmindedly tugging gave way and her breasts burst out as if eager to escape.

"Dammit! Silly bunny!" She said instinctively, before her eyes glazed over and her lips quivered. There was a long pause before the man responded.

"Um, silly bunny?" He said, finding the phrase itself and her reaction to it both quite odd.

"Silly bunny." She repeated. But the voice that said it wasn't quite the same. It was slow and calm. Like all sense of urgency that had previously filled her voice had simply fallen away. The bunny girl stared blankly forward for another long moment before her lips began to move.

For a few seconds she simply moved her lips, silently mouthing her words. Finally her voice returned, though much softer and weaker than before, and a little higher in pitch also, as she continued. "That's...that's what they make us say. Every day when we get changed into our costumes. Every time we drop a drink or forget someone's order. I was clumsy or anything but when I worked there I seemed to make so many mistakes. Not even usual mistakes...I would bend over to pick something up and just...forget to stand back up. Or a guy would be talking to me and I would just glance down at his crotch and think about what his cock looked like...what it tastes like...while my mouth would hang open drooling and I completely missed what he said. God I felt like such a pathetic slut. And every time it happened they would say 'silly bunny'..."

The bunny trailed off again. Her breasts were still exposed and she was mindlessly playing with them as she tried to regain her train of thought.

"Uh...where was I?" She asked meekly, her eyes still slightly glassy.

"You were talking about the club. How they make you say silly bunny whenever you embarrass yourself." The man reminded her.

"Silly bunny." She parroted dimly.

"Yes, silly bunny." He said with a smile.

"I'm a silly bunny." She said, her voice more sultry now. She bit her lip again as she thrust her chest forward and her hips wriggled eagerly.

"So it would seem. What else did they make you say?" He asked, enjoying the show as the bunny played with its tits right there in front of him.

"Um...I have a bunny brain." She said, her eyelids fluttering as if she just had a small orgasm.

"My head is as fluffy as my tail!" She continued, turning around as she did so and bending over to wiggle her ass and flash her cute tail in the process. She kept wiggling her ass for some time, almost inviting him to reach out and grab a fistful of her tender flesh. When she finally finished she spun back around, now with a bright and bubbly grin across her face as her voice grew higher pitched and more excited with every phrase.

"Bunnies love to bounce!" She said with a giggle as she began jumping up and down on the spot, her massive tits flopping and jiggling distractingly as she did so.

At this point the man's erection was very prominent and the ditzy bunny was bouncing up and down with glee. Any trace of fear had disappeared from her voice and her mind truly felt fluffy and soft and light like a little cotton tail.

He reached out and groped her chest brazenly, muttering "silly bunny."

"I'm a silly bunny!" She responded with joy, squirming and bouncing on the spot. She closed her eyes in glee and groaned as he kneaded her supple chest. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze drifted southward quickly.

"Bunnies love to bounce right? I have something you can bounce on." He winked as he pulled the ditzy bunny closer.

"Bunnies love to bounce!" She repeated as he pushed the material of her costume aside and easily slipped his throbbing cock inside her drippy bunny hole.

She immediately began bouncing on his fat cock and moaning as she repeated her mantras over and over.

"I have a bunny brain!" The bunny shouted with glee as she milked his cock expertly. She spoke so loudly that a man in a suit who was anxiously placing nearby heard it and breathed a sigh of relief.

"My head is as fluffy as my tail!" The bunny cried as cum pumped inside her sloppy slit.

She didn't resist when the club security guard grabbed her firmly. Cum still dribbling down her legs.

"I'm so sorry for any inconvenience our employee may have caused you sir. This little incident could cause us a lot of trouble. You understand I'm sure, so in return for your cooperation in keeping this business secret, I can offer you unlimited free drinks and *other services* at our fine establishment." He told the man, whose cock was still hanging out of his pants.

"That seems like a good deal. I'll be sure to visit soon." He accepted with a nod as the guard threw the leaky bunny over his shoulder and quickly rushed to his car. A trail of cum and arousal dribbled down his suit and he sighed. "Silly bunny."

i HAD reblogged this one but i accidentally deleted my reblog when i was adding the image. here it is again.

#mindbrokensluts #not mine #Reconstruction #story

[centuryberry]

@terrible-leviathan / @peachshadows Here it is! The chapter centered around A-Dan’s day out with her Baba! I hope you enjoy!

Wukong hated it when his duties in Heaven called him away from his Moonlight. He hated the way the light would dim in Macaque’s eyes as he wore his practiced smile and said his heartfelt goodbyes. He hated that it always ended with his wife watching him leave, standing there all alone as he ascended into the clouds.

But this time, it wasn’t like that.

“Hm? You need to leave? Well, that’s a pity. The cubs and I just started a game of Hide and Seek.” There’s an excited gleam in Macaque’s eyes as they scanned the trees for any hint of tail or fur hiding amongst its branches. Almost absentmindedly, he kissed Wukong’s cheek and shooed him away. “Go. The sooner you handle things up there, the sooner you can come back to us. The cubs will keep me busy so I’ll be fine.”

Feeling a little bit downcast at the abrupt dismissal, Wukong sulked as he left on his cloud, completely missing how his cloud had an extra passenger. It wasn’t until he was halfway there when he heard the muffled giggle.

Wukong froze and slowly turned around to see -

Nothing.

Wukong’s brows furrowed at the emptiness around him. There was only himself, his shadow, and his cloud - Wait.

Slowly, he reached into his shadow, hoping that the only thing he’d make contact with would be clouds and sky.

Wukong felt a small pair of hands grasp onto his fingers. He nearly jumped but managed to stay still as Xiaodan’s little head peeked out of his shadow. She beamed at him and squeezed his fingers.

“Baba found A-Dan!” She cheered, breaking the spell. It suddenly hit Wukong how far up they were. Without thinking, he plucked the baby monkey from his shadow and cradled her protectively against his chest. The moment she was safe, he began to freak out.

“A-Dan?! Wha - How did you get in there?!”

“Hide,” she told him reasonably, voice muffled by his robes. Wukong relaxed his grip, fearful that he was suffocating her with his strength. Xiaodan looked completely fine, but he could never be too sure. For all he knew, he would have broken a bone. Or at least bruised her.

Wukong wasn’t built for gentleness. That was why he surrounded himself with the strongest and the fiercest and even then he held back.

This was why he was insistent again and again that he wasn’t for fatherhood no matter how much his Moonlight begged and pleaded for a cub. This was why he left Xiaodan in the hands of her Gege and her Mama, barely touching or holding her. Something so small and sweet shouldn’t be trusted in his hands, he’d only break it.

Speaking of his Moonlight, he must be worried sick back at the mountain. While Wukong wasn’t in the Celestial Realm quite yet, there was still a time difference. What was only minutes to him must’ve been hours for his wife and his son. Flower Fruit Mountain must’ve been turned three times over by now. It’s too late to turn back, but Wukong can at least put Macaque and MK’s worries to rest. Wukong turned to the wind.

“Moonlight, I found our cu-” his throat closed at the word. He cleared his throat and tried again. “A-Dan. I have A-Dan with me. She’s fine,” he was quick to add. “We’ll wait for you in the Celestial Realm. I…I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.”

But Wukong was worried. He single-handedly faced and defeated the celestial army and the Jade Emperor himself but he shook at the prospect of being left alone with his daughter.

Xiaodan’s cute little ears fluttered, catching something that Wukong couldn’t. She brightened up and tugged on his sleeve. “Mama say ok! See you!”

“Did he really?” Wukong took one moment to be amazed at how sharp Xiaodan’s ears already were. So talented, though he should have expected this from a cub who took so much after his Moonlight. “Thank you for telling me, A-Dan. Good job. You’ll be spending the day with Baba, okay?”

“Hooray! With Baba!” It was as if Wukong granted her some great treasure. He was thrown aback by the enormity of her joy.

Wukong was still reeling from it as he entered the palace. Xiaodan looked around her surroundings with awe. “Pretty…”

But then, she shied away into the crook of Wukong’s neck. He looked around and noticed the many eyes on both of them. He had expected the staring - until now, Xiaodan’s existence had only been heard of, so the sight of her was unexpected - but he didn’t expect how Xiaodan reacted to the attention.

He glared at them all. “Stop staring and scram.”

All of them scattered like petals to the wind. Still, he was sure their tongues would be wagging, spreading the news about the little Princess’ presence in the Celestial Realm by the time he reached the throne room.

Wukong ordered the servants to bring in a cushion for Xiaodan to sit on and some things to entertain her as he worked. His plan was to have her right at the foot of his throne where he could keep an eye on her.

Okay. He can do this. He can handle the affairs of the Three Kingdoms and keep Xiaodan alive long enough for Macaque and MK to come and take her back.

Yeah. It’ll be fine.

But Xiaodan hopped off the cushion the moment he set her down on it after taking a seat on the throne. Her little tail clumsily wiggled as she clambered up Wukong’s robes and sat right on his lap.

Xiaodan stubbornly clutched onto his robes. “With Baba,” she insisted with a finality that Wukong couldn’t argue against. His little Princess claimed her throne and no one was going to make her get off of it. Instead of feeling exasperated, Wukong could only feel this warm and light emotion in his chest as she settled into his lap as if it was second nature. As if it was the safest place in the world.

Of course, the happiness melted away as the officials poured into the room with their endless complaints and their inconsequential problems. So many useless things that kept him away from his Moonlight. He wanted to rip his hair out from the sheer boredom and frustration of it all.

But then -

“No.”

Xiaodan, who had been quietly and patiently playing with a toy on his lap, spoke up. All eyes fell on her but, unlike before, she didn’t quail under their gazes. She was too focused on the official who spoke. Wukong remembered that one. He’s the one who’s always pushing for Wukong to stay in the Celestial Palace longer.

The old fool spluttered. “E-Excuse me?”

“No,” she repeated with the same amount of gravity except this time, she gave the official the exact same look his Moonlight reserved for fools. It made the haughty celestial redden with humiliation. Better yet, it struck him silent. The official turned to Wukong for help but found no sympathy there.

“You heard my little Princess. The answer is no,” Wukong snickered behind his hand as he used the other to indulgently pat Xiaodan’s head. With a happy chirp, she immediately tilted her head up so his hand was cupping her cheek and nuzzled into his touch. His chest melted. “Hm. Maybe I should let her delegate for the day since she’s doing so well.”

To Wukong’s glee, that made nearly all of the officials hastily make their excuses and clear out of the room, not very eager to have their requests and complaints lie in the hands of a baby monkey. The rest were shot down with similar “no’s”.

As a reward for cutting his work down he got a servant to bring in some fruits and sweets - properly cut into small pieces, of course.

Wukong hand-fed his daughter, not minding one bit when fruit juices, crumbs, and sugar made a mess of his lap. He simply focused on wiping Xiaodan’s hands and face in between hearings. Her adorable ears wiggled at every chew, mimicking the flicker of ears when kittens drank milk. So cute. His daughter was so cute.

When Xiaodan offered him some of her snacks, his heart exploded even more. “Baba hungy?” She asked, looking so worried that Wukong might be starving.

He wasn’t hungry at all, but he let her plop some pieces into his mouth and chewed with exaggerated gusto, making her giggle behind her hands.

“Baba silly!” She stood up on his lap and gave him sticky-sweet kisses. “Love Baba!”

An emotion so strong slammed into his gut. Wukong had never felt the sensation of getting the air knocked right out of him, but he was sure that it would feel like this.

When Xiaodan nodded off for a nap, Wukong saw to it that the entire room was emptied out, leaving him with an armful of baby monkey and an overflow of emotions he didn’t know how to handle. He distracted himself by grooming her fur. They stayed together like that in a peaceful silence until his soldiers came in, dragging in a haggard-looking demon lord.

When he heard why, Wukong saw red. Apparently, Macaque and MK had been in Heaven for a while but were sidetracked by an assassination attempt made by a demon lord whose female relative was harshly rejected as a potential concubine. He’d been a pest, but Wukong never expected that he’d be such a stupidly bold pest.

Well, with how the demon lord was crying and begging, not so bold now.

“Mmn. Baba?”

“Now look at what you did. You woke my daughter up,” Wukong tutted, adding that as another strike against the demon. He wanted nothing more than to strike him dead where he stood, but that would be too merciful. He wanted it to be slow, but that would mean even louder screaming and a mess of blood. Wukong didn’t want to hurt Xiaodan’s ears or bloody her hanfu. So later. “You’re lucky that my daughter is here or you’d already be a stain on the floor.”

As the demon lord sobbed out his gratitude, Wukong turned his attention to Xiaodan. “Mama and Gege are here.”

“Mama! Gege!”

“I guess it’s the end of our day together, A-Dan.” Now why did he feel so sad about that? “I’ll drop you off with them before finishing things with that one over there. He tried to hurt Mama and Gege so he needs to be punished.”

“Mean to Mama?” She made a face. “Mean to Gege?”

Wukong nodded with a sharp grin. “Yeah. This guy was really, really mean to your Mama and Gege. What do you think I should do with this troublemaker, A-Dan? Should I forgive him?”

“Yes! Mercy! Mercy, your Highness,” the demon cried at Xiaodan. “Mercy please.”

“No. Bye bye,” Xiaodan chirped ruthlessly as her proud father carried her out.

Macaque and MK were waiting for them. They rushed over and plucked Xiaodan out of his arms and fussed over her. After they were drained of their worry and panic, all that was left was relief and excitement.

“A-Dan, you used shadow powers for the first time!” MK celebrated after hearing how she managed to sneak onto Wukong’s cloud.

“Yes! Like Mama!” She cheered. Then, when she heard Macaque express his disappointment in missing it, she exclaimed, “A-Dan show Mama! Look! Look!”

Xiaodan bounced between Macaque and MK’s shadows, sinking into them with ease. At the end of her performance, his Moonlight scooped her up and showered her with kisses and praise.

Wukong wondered if someone could die from being too happy. He felt like his chest would burst from the overflow of emotion.

“…Monkey King?” MK asked. “You’ve been a little quiet. You okay there?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m just…going to handle something real quick.” He choked out and went back inside the palace. Hopefully, a well-deserved murder would snap him out of this.

(It didn’t. Wukong spent the next hour sobbing with happiness over his family with the very dead and very bloody demon at his feet.)

#little dawn au #the sundown era #lmk #gift fic #shadowpeach #big bro MK #Xiaodan

[insomniaruler]

An origin story

In a time unknown there were two siblings. The older of the two was from an undamaged egg and was stronger. She only grew stronger as the last egg containing her sibling was being hunted mercilessly by salmon.

Since Lizzie and Jimmy hatched they’d be either fighting or running. They weren’t strong enough to do anything else. But they found slight joys, playing hide-and-go-seek among the grand coral reef they called home, Jimmy was always the best at the game making it his mission to find the most ridiculous hiding spots. His favourite was the time he found a coral grove and played with dolphins until a panicked Lizzie finally found him. “Jimmy! Thank the tide I was so worried. Don’t do that again.” Lizzie said, She stormed off to her room. Jimmy made his first bracelet that day. Made with kelp and coral charms he slid it under her door. She never took it off after that.

Jimmy had nearly lost an eye in the latest attempt on their life. An eye! Looking at her baby brother Lizzie began to pack all her belongings. “We’re not safe here anymore Cod-boy, we need to go to deeper waters.” Lizzie explained softly. The deep ocean was dark and fridged, they made a home in an abandoned ship wreck in the bottom of an indent. Jimmy detested the place his young mind not entirely understanding why they had to leave. “If the reef is over run why didn’t we go to the surface? There’d be no salmon up there!” He pouted, rubbing his icy tail. Lizzie sighed and tried to block out the complaints.

Somehow the red fish had found their hide out and under Jimmy’s panicked yells Lizzie heard the salmons hissing hunting noises. “Jimmy! Come here!” She grabbed his hand and with her stronger tail launched them both to the surface. The surface world was storming and choppy as they were tossed to and fro. Sometime in that storm she lost her grip on her little brother. “Jimmy!” She screamed. There was no response from anywhere around her. She screamed herself hoarse but still no response from Jimmy.

The royal guards found a girl washed up on the banks of Mezalea, she was battered and bruised with scars tracking up her legs. Young prince Joel watched the girl as she slept fitfully until his mother dragged him away, talking about how a flower will bloom no quicker if you stare at it. When the Girl woke Prince Joel was the first besides the healers to greet her. “My name’s Lizzie, I-I dunno where I’m from.” She shrugged, speaking formal and accented common.

A fisherman and his wife with too many mouths to feed found the little boy bumping against their dock. The small swamp land that the family occupied beared little fish except small boney things. “This is nonsense Elieen! Why don’t we just send the boy to Mythland!” The fisherman said as the wife set the boy down in their barn. “He needs help now Matthias! And I Mythland will not cherish this boy.” Elieen said her magics thrumming as she looked over the boy. “Fine but he’s being put to work as soon as he’s strong enough.” Matthias grouched.

- Years later-

a woman set out to find out the reason for the tugging in her soul. She left behind her dear friend, King Joel of Mezalea, the teen king well known for his clever royal advisor, Elizabeth.

A man stayed in the swamp building homes and schools for his little nation. The family who took him in left to bring their youngest daughter, Liche, to the Crystal Cliffs. They were all found dead one day out from The Cod Lands, bandits.

The woman raised platforms from the sea floor, and one day her king came sailing over the horizon waving a letter. It was inviting Joel and his advisors to a meeting amongst empires. “Joel, I’m only going as an emissary from the Ocean Empire.” She said firmly. “Of course.” Joel said bowing. “As Queen Elizabeth of the Ocean.” “Mistress of the Waves, Guardian of Axolotls.” Lizzie said absentmindedly going over blueprints. “Obviously.” Joel said waving and heading back to his boat.

As the man approached the meeting sight he realized with a sinking heart he got the day wrong. Ah well, turning on his heel he returned home. He’d have plenty enough chances to meet his fellows. But as he got home he realized how soon it would be. Sitting on his porch was a woman with striking pink hair. “Hello! I’m Lizzie, Queen of the Ocean empire!” She said holding out a hand. “Oh um The Codfather, my friends call me Jimmy. And I’m sorry have we met before?” Jimmy asked. “I don’t think so… you seem familiar but…” Queen Lizzie trailed off. “Not?” She offered after a pause.

#empires smp #empires s1 #seablings #solidarity gaming #ldshadowlady

[bi-aragorn]

Clouds & Kisses

A different fandom again mwahaha, back at it again with a Monster Prom fic (and it’s not even horny, really)

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen

Tags: Kissing, Making Out, Summer Romance, Cloud Watching

Scott and Vicky cloud watching and kissing below (they’re cute and I need to play this game more)

It was a balmy summer’s day, and Scott and Vicky were curled up together on the hammock on her parents' back porch. Vicky was leaning back against Scott’s chest, and he had an arm curled protectively around her, rubbing up and down her side absentmindedly. He was staring up at the sky, watching the clouds as they rolled overhead whilst Vicky read her book, flicking over to the next page and peeking up from behind it just to watch him for a moment.

His eyes were wide, mouth in an almost perfect circle as he watched the clouds, deep in concentration as he clearly mulled over the shapes in the sky.

“That one… is Polly-shaped,” he mumbled to himself, and Vicky glanced up for a moment and watched as a wispy cloud drifted by. Snickering, she flicked the book closed and shimmied further up Scott’s chest.

“How about that one?” She asked, pointing at an oval-shaped cloud, a smile beginning to quirk up the sides of her mouth as she predicted the answer.

Scott’s eyes widened and she felt his tail as it started battering against her leg.

“Ball! That one’s a ball!” He yelled, excited, the hammock swaying with the force of his tail wagging. Vicky giggled, delighted by his exuberance, and let her eyes slip shut as she laughed. She wrapped her arms around his middle, and leant in, snuggling up close to him, before letting out a contented sigh. Scott hummed beneath her, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he brought his arms around her, large palms pressed flat against her back. She felt comfortable as she was, and a little sluggish- it was hard to be anything else in this heat- but there was an undercurrent of something more… passionate that Vicky was eager to explore.

They’d kissed before, but that was it- they'd barely been dating two weeks, only really since a few days before prom. It had been a perfect, sweet summer romance so far- there had been prom, obviously, and then a picnic during which Scott mostly chased ducks around the pond and Vicky laughed till her sides hurt, and a few tender kisses shared when they said goodbye at night. But maybe now was the time to try something a little more than kissing. Just a little.

Vicky lifted her head from Scott’s chest, and wriggled up until she found herself sitting on his lap, staring at his confused face, those bushy eyebrows drawn into a confused stare, head tilted slightly to the side. His hands had fallen subconsciously to her hips, thumbs rubbing her thighs softly, and Vicky smiled, tugging at the bottom of her dark blue t-shirt nervously. Taking a quick, sharp breath, she darted forward, and pressed her lips to Scott’s. He grunted, startled, but soon settled into the kiss, his warm hands wrapping more firmly around her hips, shifting her legs to spread more comfortably over his lap. Vicky moaned and tipped her mouth to the side, tongue moving forward, deepening the kiss. Her arms wrapped around Scott’s neck of their own volition, hips rocking forward to push closer against his body. Scott’s answering moan was lost in her mouth, as he ground up against her arse, before pulling back from their kiss ever so slightly.

“Is this ok?” he mumbled, eyes closed, lips parted for more, but still waiting patiently.

“Y-yeah!” Vicky said, and pulled him back into another kiss.

They lost themselves in it for a while, hands brushing over each others skin without much intention, just enjoying the moment wherever it took them, kissing and moaning softly as they moved.

Vicky could feel sweat beading on the back of her neck, her hair turning frizzy with it. It hardly mattered, but it gave her enough of a push to take another step. Pulling back and pressing a kiss to the corner of Scott’s mouth in apology, giggling at how he pouted, she reached for her t-shirt and tugged it off over her head, leaving her sitting in Scott’s lap just in her shorts and bra.

His eyes bulged almost comically at the sight of her. Vicky blushed, scratching at the back of her neck awkwardly- had she done something wrong? But before she could really start to worry, Scott had reached for her and pulled her into another searing kiss, hips grinding up against her arse again- and oh, he was hard. Vicky shivered, trying not to be too smug about it as she kissed Scott back, tugging at his t-shirt, trying to peel him out of it.

Soon they were sat on the slowly swaying hammock, shirtless and sweaty, Scott’s hands cupping Vicky’s breasts as he kissed across her stomach. Vicky squirmed, gasping at the way his lips caressed her skin. The ache between her legs was becoming harder to ignore, but as horny as Vicky was, she wasn't sure she wanted to go fuck Scott just now. It was enough as it was, kissing and touching and rolling about with him, learning how he liked to be kissed and touched. She shivered as his beard brushed against her stomach, ticklish, and pulled him back up.

There was a brief moment where they were looking each other in the eyes, startled, and then they were falling onto the grass in a heap of tangled limbs and giddy giggles. Vicky laughed, brushing tangled hair back from her eyes, before rolling over positioning herself on top of Scott and kissing him again, harder, grinding down on him as their lips pressed together.

His eyes screwed up and he let out a bitten-off howl, hands snapping up to clutch her by the hips. They lay for a while in the grass, rutting against each other, kisses becoming sloppier and sloppier, Scott’s noises more and more guttural and wolf-like as they continued. They had all the time in the world, and as Scott rolled them over to balance over the top of Vicky and catch his breath, Vicky found that she couldn't be happier about it.

#monster prom #monster prom fic #shay's writing #scott howl #vicky schmidt #scott x vicky #vicky x scott