#HUNT .01: sunlight

[lightning-etc-lord]

Generals of the Xianzhou.

[strawberri-blonde]

01 - Handjob - Neteyam

01 - handjob : happy kinktober!

Summary: You greet Neteyam after training and he looks too good not to be given a handjob.

Warning: Literally said in the summary handjob, but there’s also kissing, nipple play other heavy petting.

Masterlist

In the healing chamber, the sweet melodies of your humming mingle with the rhythmic symphony of the mortar and pestle in your skilled hands. Though preparing herbs can be demanding, you approach it with unwavering purpose. Guided by the teachings of the tribe's healers, you expertly identify and distinguish the beneficial herbs for treating various ailments. Mint, Nolina, and other carefully selected spices are ground and blended, fragrant filling the air. This healing ointment soothes inflammation, heals wounds, and relieves headaches and stress.

You diligently grind and crush the herbs patiently and precisely, transforming them into a fine paste. As you create the solution that will serve as medicine for your people, you embrace this sacred duty with utmost dedication. Yet, amidst the laborious process, you find joy. The delightful aroma of the crushed and ground herbs envelops your senses, bringing a sense of fulfillment and contentment.

Lost in the sight of your finished work, your attention was solely consumed by the paste, causing you to unintentionally miss the approach of Mo'at. The revered tsahík of the Omatikaya, also known as the clan's spiritual leader and the beloved grandmother of Neteyam, your mate, gracefully made her way towards you from behind.

Feeling her warmth and powerful embrace, you tilted your head to the woman. "Tsahík, I finished all the work that you had requested to be done for the upcoming hunting season." The older woman offered you a smile before nestling herself to your side.

Mo'at gazes upon the meticulously crushed herbs, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of pride. Your dedication and skill shine through, evident in the quality of your work. A warm smile graces her face as she nods approvingly. "You've truly outdone yourself, dear," she praises, her gaze shifting towards you. She gently transfers the paste into a nearby jar, ensuring its safekeeping. A sense of accomplishment and connection envelops the room as she touches your shoulder.

Slowly cleaning up your area, you turned to Mo'at with a smile. "Thank you, Mo'at. You're a wonderful mentor, and I'm grateful for the wisdom you share with me."

Mo'at's smile radiates warmth as she nods in affirmation. "Guiding our people and sharing my wisdom is my sacred duty. I have imparted my teachings to you with great care, dear, and I will continue to do so, just as I would with my daughter." Her hands rest gently on your shoulders as she leans in for a heartfelt embrace. The delicate scent of herbs lingers on her clothes and hair. With a tender gaze, Mo'at encourages you, "Now, go forth, for my grandson awaits for you after his training. Make your way to him and continue on your path." As she turns to depart, your purpose fulfilled, a sense of gratitude and determination fills the air.

You finish up what you were doing in the tent and look out to see the sun is more than halfway out of the sky. You decide to head to the training grounds, which is probably where Neteyam will be, as Mo'at suggested. You take your time and enjoy the outdoors, breathing in the fresh air of Pandora. You reach the training grounds and see several Na'vi kids practicing their skills. You spot Neteyam in the crowd with his fellow Omaticaya clan members. He is in the middle of a fight with another warrior, trading blows and kicks back and forth. You settle in to watch, amazed with how the lowing sun rays looked on his skin.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes fill with delight as you witness Neteyam's athletic body gracefully move under the sunlight. A magnetic attraction pulls at your heartstrings as you observe his fluid and precise movements. Each powerful punch and kick he delivers to his opponent captivates your attention.

As the wind gently tousles Neteyam's micro braids, the sun illuminates his muscular physique. With a forceful push, he drives his adversary backward, landing a flawless kick to the warrior's chest, causing him to stumble and fall. In that victorious moment, Neteyam's gaze meets yours, and he playfully winks, acknowledging your presence.

A rush of warmth engulfs you like wildfire as a glimmer in Neteyam's eyes reveals his carefree and playful nature. However, ever the respectful man, he swiftly redirects his attention to his companion, offering a nod of respect and admiration. The air crackles with anticipation as your body seems to get hotter.

Your sweet mate nods you off, making you smile softly, understanding that he had to finish up loose ends before he could leave. You watch with pride as Neteyam finishes his practice with his fellow warriors, seeing him bow respectfully towards the group.

You lean in closer as the sunlight bounces off the sweat on his skin and highlights his defined muscles. You gulped as those honeycomb orbs stared back at you with a smile. Neteyam then moves his body to make him look almost graceful as he glides through the crowd of people to reach you. You feel your heart beating faster as you watch him with pride, your feelings of admiration and desire towards him deepening.

Neteyam approaches you, his broad and muscular frame filling your field of vision. He wraps his strong arms around you, embracing you tightly. You inhale deeply, taking in the masculine scent of his body and enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. "Hello, my yawne," he murmurs softly, nuzzling his face into yours. "I missed you," he says, his voice filled with love and affection. He presses his lips gently against your forehead in an intimate gesture. You feel your heart racing and your stomach flipping as love and desire rise within you.

"I've missed you even more," you whisper, rising on your tiptoes to capture Neteyam's eager lips. Surprised momentarily, he swiftly regains his composure, enveloping you in a tight embrace and returning the kiss with intensified passion. Your hands grasp onto his glistening chest, finding comfort in the touch of his meticulously crafted cummerbund, a symbol of your unbreakable bond since the day he soared through the skies on his Ikran with you as his trusted companion. You presented it to him during the early stages of courtship, a gesture that holds deep meaning for both of you. Neteyam wouldn't have it any other way. You were and always will be his beloved.

The warrior pulls away, burying his face in your hair and kissing your neck and collarbones. His warm tongue leaves a trail of desire behind. Whispering in your ear, he playfully says, "Didn't realize you missed me that much, but who am I to complain?"

You drown out the onlookers, reveling in the attention as they witness the bond between you and Neteyam. Their gazes confirm that you belong to each other.

So, you ignore the world as Neteyam's lips slowly explore your body. Hot and deliberate breaths caress your skin, while his words of affection fill your ear. Lost in pleasure, you moan and bury your face in his neck, savoring every touch. You yearn to be consumed by him, to lose yourself entirely in the intoxicating haze of desire. The world can wait, the tribe can wait, but the feeling of Neteyam cannot.

You pushed slightly at his chest and stared at him with understanding, lust-filled eyes. "Follow me." Your breath catches in your throat, and your cheeks burn with passion.

Neteyam grins down at you, a glimmer in his eyes. "Lead the way," he says, his voice low and sexy. You take his hand and lead him away, your body shaking with nerves and excitement. You look over your shoulder at him, giving him a seductive smile before continuing.

Your heart races as his fingers slip around yours, and he follows you, his body so close to yours that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. You're unsure what you're about to do, but it's hard to ignore the urge inside you. You bring him to a secluded spot underneath a towering tree. You look around, realizing no one else is present, but you don't care if you have an audience. you lean close to Neteyam. "I want you," you whisper seductively, pulling him closer.

Your heart races as his muscles flex underneath his skin, guiding him against the massive trunk adorned with crawling vines. The vines bear large greenish/purple leaves half the length of your body. Some leaves even find their way underneath the both of you as your lips meld together in a fierce and passionate kiss. The exotic foliage surrounds you, the rustling leaves adding to the moment's intensity. With each touch and caress, your desire grows, your bodies entwined in a dance of passion and longing. As you both pull away, breathless and dizzy, the hunger in your eyes speaks volumes of the desire that still burns between you.

Your hands fiddle with the leather cummerbund, slipping it off his body to feel his strong muscles. And Neteyam couldn't help but lean down to continue to kiss you. His tongue explores the depths of your mouth as you become lost in the sensations. You passionately kiss him, your lips sliding and dancing with his with each movement. In the distance, you can hear the sounds of the clan.

But your mind only seemed to focus on two things. Neteyam's lips on yours and your hands. They genuinely had a sense of their own as they reached the slightly hardened cock. The warrior groaned deeply into your mouth, sending vibrations down your throat as you squeezed the clothed member. "Fuck, Y/n, you just don't even realize what you do to me."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as you playfully nibbled on his bottom lip, your fingers still fumbling with his growing member. Pressing him closer against the sturdy tree, you couldn't resist teasingly remarking, "Let me see then?"

Neteyam is surprised at your bold comment but doesn't resist or deny you. "Anything for my beautiful girl. " His lips parted slightly as he smiled and nodded at you. His expression hints at mischief; you know you are in for an amazing experience. "Go on, muntxate. What are you waiting for?" You reach for the waist ties of his loincloth, fumbling with it for a moment before it gives way. With a satisfied grin on your face, you pull the garment down. You look down at what is now presented to you and feel a wave of desire wash over you. Neteyam smiles at you seductively as you begin to explore his length.

"That's my girl," he whispered, his lips meeting yours in a passionate yet fleeting kiss. Pulling away, you couldn't help but gaze down at his member. With a firm grip, you slowly slid your hand up his shaft, marveling at the sight before you. His length nearly reached the entirety of your forearm, and as your thumb caressed the pulsating vein at the base, it disappeared beneath the light pink tip. The sight left you with a mouthwatering anticipation.

"Love your cock Teyam." Neteyam lets out a growl, grabbing your jaw in his hand as you gain eye contact. "I love you." His lips pressed against yours eagerly, and you kissed him back with equal force.

He lowers his hands to the lower of your back, with one cupping your butt and the other around your tail, keeping you firmly wedged against his warm body. You reached between the both of you, taking him in the palms of your hands, jerking his dick while twisting your wrists cohesively.

You feel Neteyam's strong body tense as your hands continue to work his throbbing cock. Groans escaped his wet lips, causing you to feel electricity spark through your skin.

"Yawne, fuck, I love you." He mumbles as you pull away from his lips to kiss along his jaw. Feeling your lips kissing the sensitive areas of his skin, the warrior couldn't help but thrust it into your hands. "You're driving me crazy."

You giggle out, kissing him, applying an open-mouth kiss on his lips, moving back down towards his nest, trailing towards his chest, reaching his nipples. "I like driving you crazy." Neteyam didn't have time to reply as you kitten licked his nipples, earning an immediate response.

His breathing became fast, and his cock twitched and throbbed in your palms. Precum leaked from his sensitive tip, making your stroking much more accessible and allowing you to fast your jerk motions. "Fuck, yawne, so fucking," your swollen lips wrapped around his nipple, sucking hard, twirling the sensitive bud in your warm mouth. "Y/n, my good girl." He tugged on your tail, making you clench your thighs together from the growing need you were experiencing from hearing his heavenly moans.

His hand left my soft bottom to tangle his fingers in your braids. Your eyes looked up from sucking on his chest to see his eyes closed and mouth ajar. Knowing that you were making your mate feel good, you couldn't help but feel prideful.

You pulled away from his chest slightly to look down at his swollen cock. Your strokes increased, and his thrust quickened. "You're so hot, Neteyam. So grateful you’re mine." You moaned out, noticing how tense his abs and upper legs seemed to be getting.

"Yours, baby girl." Neteyam panted out, leaning his head against the bark, feeling the ecstasy of the pleasure he felt from your hand working on him. You jerked his entire length while flickering your wrists, squeezing so tight. "Since the moment I met you, muntxate." A broken groan left his throat as one of your hands dropped toward his balls, giving them a little attention. "Make me feel as good."

"Good," you whispered, your lips eagerly seeking his once more, unable to resist the overwhelming desire. The knowledge that he was nearing his peak only fueled your passion further. "I adore bringing you pleasure, Nete. My powerful and loving partner. It's exhilarating to know I'm the only one to witness you in this state." Your words carried a seductive tone directed straight toward his arousal.

His hands tightened around your tail, and his fingers tugged on your roots as his movements quickened animalistic into your hand as you continued to jerk his cock. His kisses became messier, and his whimpers escaped his throat, allowing you to swallow them. You felt him shudder underneath you.

"Y-y/n, fuck." Neteyam's words weren't coherent as he spilled his cum all over your hands and stomach, painting you in white ribbons. Feeling the warm liquid litter your skin, you didn't stop jerking until Neteyam's hand slipped its hold on you to place them on your tired wrists.

You feel Neteyam's hands slowly and gently caressing your wrists, the soft touches driving you wild with desire. You lean against him to keep him close, unable to get enough of him. He kisses you slowly again, dragging it out for as long and passionately as possible. The feeling of his soft and warm lips on yours sends electric impulses through your body.

Your heart races, and you feel the blood coursing quickly through your veins. "So good to me, muntxate,"

You smile seductively at him, your body tingling and your mouth warm. The air is heavy with lust and desire but also joy and love. You are happy to have found Neteyam, and he is pleased to have found you. "Gonna reward you for being a good girl." You giggled as you brought your hands to your face to lick them clean of Neteyam's salty goodness.

"You really are going to kill me, Y/n." Collecting the rest of the cum that painted your stomach, you can't imagine being with anyone else, and you are so happy to be his.

How do we like the first post for Kinktober 2023? feedback is much appreciated!!!

~ Caroline

[absentmindedadmirer]

Twisted Wonderland Word Association Drabbles Pt. 1

I wanted to practise writing Twst characters and stuff so I made a little game by using a random word generator and spinning a wheel to see what twst chara to attribute it to.

So... ===

01.           Burn || Malleus 

Malleus thought was familiar with the sensation.  It was simple enough to raze the forest he ran off to in his childhood, green flames flickering as it ate up dry branches. Fire warmed his face as he held it at his fingertips. His senses were used to it: the smell of ashes, the sight of wickers of the fire eating up everything it could, the feel of the flames dancing on his fingertips. He scarcely burned himself while performing spells now.  He remembered when pushing a stool over to the cauldron that Lilia was stirring some meal in. The smell wafted into his nose as he felt the heat steam onto his cheeks as he clambered on the stool and stood overhead the pot. Lilia, who was over at the cutting board, long hair tied in a ponytail, held his hand out when he noticed Malleus, yet Malleus didn’t hear what it was before he felt pain shoot through his fingers as they came into contact with scalding metal. He wound his arm back immediately, tears springing in his eyes, as black and pink hair flitted over him as Lilia grabbed his hand, uttering reassurances that Malleus would be alright.  So he was familiar with the sensation of burning.  Or so he thought.  As he walked through Night Raven College. Not many people acknowledged him; those who did ended up shrinking away and pretending to have not seen him. It felt cold.  However as he passed through the corridor, he saw the Ramshackle dorm leader, surrounded on both arms by those two Heartsabyul underclassmen, as the first years were so glued to the hip. When their eyes met Malleus, they refused to shy away like many people had. Instead, they waved over to him.  “Hey! Tsunataro-!” They turned to him and smiled brightly at him and Malleus felt his heart jump. Heat crept up into his face. …And he discovered a sensation of burning that he never felt before. 

02. Tree || Rook

Leona cracked an eye open to see metal glint off of the tip of an arrow, loaded on a crossbow, aimed right at his nose.  He grunted, annoyed, but before he could pull on it and throw it as far as he could– the faint rustling over his head, the same that woke him up, stopped. And a deafening crack snapped Leona’s other eye open. Blonde hair  littered with leaves and mud and limbs  went plummeting to the ground. The heap of the ground shook as Leona heard a familiar crazed laugh.  “Haha, I almost got you~!”  Green eyes shimmered in the sunlight as Rook Hunt smiled at him. 

03. Wild || Jamil

“Yo, Jamil!” Ruggie Bucchi had waved his hand in greeting to him and Jamil was so close to walking off but the guy had made his way next to him. It wasn’t bad to talking to Bucchi, the two seemed to connect over the pain of looking over royals but Jamil would rather just not interact with people in general.  “Heard you and Kalim went babysitting his siblings back at Scalding Sands. How did that go-?” Jamil sighed. He only just came back from that with as many migraines as Kalim’s siblings numbered.  “All in all, horrid.” He looked off to the side as he recounted, “ I had to prevent 18 housefires, stop 5 chandeliers from being demolished, 27 vases from being knocked over and 34 instances of crayon on the walls.”  Ruggie laughed– a hyena indeed as Jamil felt mocked by Bucchi’s pure glee in his misery.  “Man, that’s wild.  I’m glad Leona doesn’t have any siblings to look after. Cheka mostly follows him or Leona hands them over to the Heartsabyul kids.” Ruggie held his arms behind his head as he whistled, “Children sure are tough to deal with, huh~?”  “Oh no.” Jamil scoffed. “That was all Kalim.”  And Ruggie laughed louder. 

04.         Jar || Azul

“I foresee  a business venture.” Azul’s voice was tinged in anticipation and Jade noticed his glasses flash. He, along with his brother turned to see what Azul had sought out,  to see ginger hair bouncing around as Cater Diamond hummed, tapping hurriedly at his phone.  “You really can make a business venture out of seemingly nothing.”  “Ooh~ Can you make something out of this then, Azul?” Floyd held up a jar of an unidentified substance. It was nearly black and neither liquid nor fully solid.  “What is that?” Azul looked away from his business prospect (supposedly) to look at the thing in disgust.  “Stuff I pulled out of the shower drain.” Floyd looked bored while saying it, looking away with a frustrated look in his eyes. Meanwhile, Azul screeched. “Why do you have that?!” 

05.         Mercy || Idia

“NOO-!”  Idia’s  fingers scraped across the stone flooring, to no avail because of how little they were of a grip, all chewed and uneven.  Two hands grabbed at his ankles as they pulled in opposite directions like how one would split a piece of string cheese.  “Oh, come on! I take really good pics-!” Cater pulled on Idia’s right foot. His shoes were already gone, he had lost them trying to crawl away from them the first time.  “I brush my little siblings’ hair all the time!! I can do yours for sure-!” His left foot was being pulled by Kalim as he tried to assure Idia of his ‘experience’.  “You two don’t have to do anything. I will make sure it looks acceptable.” Vil said in an even tone and Idia remembered when he first approached Idia, saying that he wanted to use him as a model for a client who was asking to model longer hair. It was ridiculous, Idia figured he was as  photogenic as a withered raisin.  “That’s not fair, you said if we got him, we could help-!” His voice lowered as he muttered, “Could get in some nice pics during that too.”  “Yeah-! I can totally do a good job!” Kalim asserted and Idia felt the two arms lug him away. This was as outrageous a kidnapping as a comedy anime with 3/5 stars.  “Now, come on, Idia.”  Idia’s nose hit the ground as he dragged across the floor. He numbly calculated the time it would take for him to gain the event SSR in a game he picked up a few weeks ago. He was ridiculously attached to one of its characters and he would die to get the event card. Crunching the hours, AP, energy, he thought of the time he would lose having Kalim curl his hair …He was going to miss the card by 5000 points.  Someone have mercy on him. 

=== Whwhwhw it was fun I think. I kinda want to practise more with these goofballs, so if you want to request the first word that comes to the top of your head and/or a character, please do!!

Sketchie's Fandom Archives || Writing Masterlist

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

First and Last Line Tag

Rules- In a new post the first and last lines of the last ten fics you posted.

I was tagged by @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter. Thanks!

(First lines are green, last are blue, pick whatever colors you like)

1)Caraval

Social interactions of any kind were not Will Graham's strong suit.

Leaving Hannibal trapped outside, with whatever was making Winston howl.

2)Try to Change the Ending

Long before Kaecilius had ever set foot in Kamar-Taj, she had seen him.

She smiled and sank into him, standing with him, watching the snow.

3)Untangled

Even in a world with a magic, there were tales of mystical, powerful things, things beyond your average wizard.

Hopefully they would catch up in time.

4)Brumal

There was life in the Underworld, though some might not believe it.

But until midnight, the world, the winter, was theirs.

5)The Kissing Bough

Theseus had said a speech would be easy, after saving the world.

"Those two are certainly going to need more nudges than this down the road..."

6)His Shadow Suspended on Dust

It had taken him a long time, but he had finally done it.

Jack Crawford would never give up the hunt.

7)Estivel

He was the only one who noticed the corruption.

This was what he had been born for, and he accepted the beauty of it without once looking back.

8) Autumnal

He craved the sunlight and all that came with it.

And that certainly made up for the price of godhood.

9)Fragments

Normally, Will Graham appreciated the sounds of nature, the sounds of absolute silence, while he fished.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Will."

10)Haven't Been the Same (Since I Expired)

The day after the election for the International Confederation of Wizards, blood ran in the dungeons of Nurmengard.

His enemies were still out there, after all.

Okay, I wasn't going to link them all, but anyone interested can find them on my AO3 account Tina-Mairin-Goldstein. No pressure tagging @keepmeinmind-01, @inastarlesssky, and @pragnificent and anyone else who wants to play can consider themselves tagged.

[itsuki-minamy]

"AYAKA – SIDE STORIES 01" (Part 02/04)

BROTHERS 02: KURAMA HARUAKI & JINGI SAGAWA

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

* List of Chapters

An Aramitama was crying.

While spinning like a tornado, he would swing his eight arms and destroy whatever he hit.

It was like a storm of malice that cut fields, felled trees and stone walls. The constant roar of the wind sounded like a scream of agony.

Poor thing.

Kurama Haruaki feels helpless pity for the supernatural beings that wreak destruction.

A block of stone was blown by the wind from the Aramitama, brushed the hem of his hunting clothes and hit the railing behind him. Steel railings were smashed into dogleg shapes and stones were smashed to pieces. With that behind him, Kurama stepped forward.

"Oh, pathetic vitality that has become stagnant and polluted. I will exorcise your suffering."

And Kurama crossed his arms.

"Between heaven and earth, empty and endless, move and finally come out."

The Aramitama turned to him.

Red eyes glued to the raging wind widened. The vitality that floated in the surroundings moved towards Kurama as if it was drawn to him. It became the current of the atmosphere, the wind, and began to revolve around Kurama.

An Aramitama has no intelligence. However, instinctively, the Aramitama recognized Kurama's vitality as "something that makes it difficult for him to exist". Extending his eight arms, the Aramitama rushed towards Kurama with the force of a hurricane.

The golden fan was flung open.

To hide his mouth, Kurama turned his fan forward. The gold-rimmed key shone faintly in the sunlight. Kurama swung the fan from right to left, like a good dancer dancing for a moment.

The Aramitama's charge drifted far to the left.

Caught by the hand of an invisible giant, the Aramitama began to spin around Kurama as if he was being forced. He stretched out his eight arms and struggled to grab hold of Kurama's body, but was never able to escape Kurama's path.

Kurama kept dancing. He was also spinning on the spot, pulling his legs, stretching his arms, and swinging the fan constantly.

Kurama was now producing a large tornado. When he turned, the atmosphere changed, and the wind from the Aramitama turned into a tornado entangled in a tornado. The eight arms that were in front of Kurama gradually lost their strength, and began to sway as if they were responding to Kurama's fans and enjoying dancing in the wind.

"Nothing is called the beginning of heaven and earth, existence is called the mother of all things."

When Kurama chanted that spell, the entire tornado began to glow pale gold. The flowing vitality eliminated the Aramitama's stagnant vitality and he was about to eliminate it. Aramitama himself, as if pleased by this, extended his eight arms and pointed them towards the sky.

A golden glow enveloped the Aramitama.

Eight arms stretched out into the sky, the red eyes caught in the center turned into golden bubbles and melted in midair. Like a receding wind, the golden bubbles rose up in a tornado and were sucked into the heavens.

Before long, Kurama stopped dancing.

Nothing was left behind. You couldn't even feel the sway of a gentle breeze. A veil of tranquility fell everywhere.

Kurama raised his face.

His usual calm expression had returned. He closed the golden fan with a snap and returned it to his pocket.

As if on cue, a young man jumped from the railing of the embankment.

"Hey, Haru-nii. Are you done?"

Jingi waved his hand slightly with his usual sloppy face. Kurama let out a small sigh and looked up as if to reproach him for such an act of kindness.

"You're too late, Jingi. I finished everything."

"Ok, then, originally it wasn't a job two people could do."

"That's right. It's a job you should do alone."

When he said it without hesitation, Jingi was unable to answer and remained silent. Kurama slowly climbed onto the bench, one step at a time, a smile on his face.

"In the first place, you're the one who said that you wanted to appease the Mitama because you needed money, so why did I come earlier?"

"No, well, that's... a lot happened. I helped an old lady who was in trouble on the road."

"Hmm. Where is she from? I have to say hello later."

"......"

Kurama was smiling. It wasn't that he was angry. He has been seeing his brother like this for over ten years. It's not that kind of relationship that will make you angry, shocked or abandon him.

But where it must be pressed, it must be pressed.

Upon reaching the embankment, Kurama tapped him on the shoulder.

"But don't worry, Jingi. You still have work to do."

"What is it...?"

Kurama turned around. A desolate field stretches there. Fortunately, it was fallow land, so there was no crop damage.

"It must be hard for the people in this house to clean up after themselves. Please help me with that, Jingi."

"......"

Jingi made a very unpleasant face. He knows this because they have known each other for a long time. The act that this younger brother hates the most is none other than "work". In particular, he thinks that he would be better off dead than doing simple, tedious, persevering work like cleaning up afterward.

Of course, Kurama doesn't care about such things. If you want compensation, you have to work for it.

"Then please, I'll give it to you, Jingi."

"Oh, I'm coming!

Shouting as if he had given up, Jingi went down the embankment. Kurama nodded in satisfaction when he saw her back.

++++++++++

"This is the last time!"

He threw the large stone caught in the field back into the original river bed and it collapsed on the spot.

His entire body was drenched in sweat, and while he was out of breath, Jingi wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had already taken off his jacket and was only wearing a T-shirt. He covered the areas that could be covered with the pulse patching technique, but all other areas were manual labor. His entire body creaked, telling him that he would definitely have muscle pain tomorrow.

"Haru-nii! It's over, damn it!"

Still crouched, Jingi turned his head and looked toward the bench. Under the sky that was turning redder, Kurama was sitting calmly on the edge of the bench.

"Yes. Thanks for your hard work, Jingi."

Kurama, smiling and drinking tea, looks like a jizo or something. In fact, all around him were rice, vegetables, sake and other offerings, in other words, gifts from the islanders. Kurama, who has appeased many Mitama as the priest of the Kasen Shrine, is very popular among the islanders, and even if he passes through the path, he will receive things.

Standing up and starting up the embankment, Kurama lifted the teapot next to him.

"Would you like some tea? Tomi-san in the back made it for me. I have some for you."

"No, it's okay, I'll have this drink."

Jingi took the four-sided bottle, put it directly into his mouth, and began to drink. The sweet alcohol slid down his throat and his insides heated. He let out a breath and sat down on the spot.

"Ah, I'm tired... or rather, Haru-nii, if you're just looking at me here, please help me."

Kurama smiled slightly.

"I can't do that. It's a devotional job, so I can't get my hands on it."

"If that's the case, there's no point in being here. You should have waited somewhere warmer."

"My brother is working for the first time in a long time. Isn't it your brother's duty to watch over you?"

Jingi sighed quietly. If he was someone other than Kurama, he would have simply pointed out, "You shouldn't be watching, you should be helping". But this brother says it from the bottom of his heart. Look at Jingi with the affection of the family, not with duties and responsibilities.

Precisely because he knows that, Jingi didn't raise his head to Kurama.

Kurama brought his mouth close to the teacup and then looked inside. He looks like he ran out of tea. Kurama suddenly directed his attention to the bottle Jingi was holding and handed him a cup of tea.

"One for me too."

That was fine, Kurama is fresh mouthed. Jingi smiled wryly and tipped the sake bottle.

"Okay."

Totto-totto-, the teacup was filled abundantly while making a pleasant sound. After waiting for the sake to settle down, Kurama took it to his mouth. The white throat moved up and down two or three times, and Kurama let out a satisfied sigh.

"Yes. I like it, it turns me on."

"Is that so? Are you cold?"

"Oh, of course. It's still time for hot sake to be delicious."

Suddenly, the brothers' eyes met. They didn't need words. They nodded to each other, rose to their feet at the same time, and began preparations for withdrawal.

He returned the teapot and teacup to Tomi-san in the back, and for some reason, it was decided that the reward would go to Jingi. It was rare for Jingi to do this kind of simple job, but for some reason, when she got close to Kurama, he turned like this.

"Come on."

Kurama was walking down the sidewalk with Jingi, clutching a four-sided bottle in one hand. His face was slightly drunk, and he had been repeatedly hiccuping for a while now. If other people were doing the same, they'd be sloppy drunks, but when his brother's drunk, there's a happy atmosphere.

"Hey, Haru-nii. It's dangerous, come a little closer."

"Hmm? Oh, that's right. Fufufu, thanks, Jingi."

Kurama smirked as he staggered closer to Jingi. He should have been reasonably strong against alcohol, but it might be because he drank the sake from the teacup in one go. When he was worried about whether he could reach his destination safely, Kurama suddenly took something out of his pocket.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Haru-nii, that..."

"Oh, this? Fufufu, it's alright. Chatarou and Yako chose it. Are you jealous?"

"No, it's just a cell phone, right? Everyone has one."

"Is that so, isn't it? Oh, my, this is so easy to operate!"

"That's because it's for children. It's the first time I've seen a twenty-year-old wearing something like this..."

"Well, it's better to be easy than hard, isn't it? Well, that's it… What are you trying to do?"

Kurama stopped, turned his head and began to think. After that, he suddenly turned his cell phone towards Jingi, pointed at the messaging app.

"Hey, Jingi. What's that red thing in the upper right?"

"What? It means you have unread messages. What's that?!"

"Is incredible?"

"Haru-nii, you didn't reply! Look at this, you've been receiving confirmation messages from Chatarou many times!"

"Chatarou, ah, that's right! I was thinking of telling Chatarou that his job was done! Great, do your best!"

With a bright expression on his face, Kurama patted Jingi's head. Although he was weak, he was willing to accept it.

Kurama looked at his cell phone again. He blinked several times with his eyes wet with alcohol and, for some reason, crouched down with the sake bottle at his feet.

"Well, if you want I'll show you. Click here... then..."

"......"

"Press the white area, then... "F" "O" "R" "C" "H" "A" "T" "A" "R" "O" "U"..."

"......"

"Hmm? Hey, okay? How can I make the "letters" smaller?"

"Don't worry! Lend it to me!"

Jingi grabbed Kurama's cell phone and sent a message to Chatarou at high speed. "I'm done with my work, so I'm going out for a drink. Just do it right away."

No matter how you flip it, it's a line Kurama is unlikely to say, and Chatarou will probably get confused, but that's not what Jingi knows.

"Yes, it's over! That's enough, don't use your cell phone!"

When he handed back Kurama's phone, he clapped for some reason.

"Oh, that's amazing! I'm sorry, Jingi. After all, you are a reliable little brother."

"Oh, I'm not at all happy to be praised for something like this..."

"But is it okay? Maybe it's too soon and it won't arrive properly?"

"Eh?"

Kurama crossed his arms and thought. He's always been fluffy, but now he's twice as fluffy because he's drunk.

"If you go too fast, you might make a wrong turn or get stuck somewhere. I'm starting to feel uneasy. Would that message get lost?"

"That's not going to happen, what are you saying?"

"Hmm. Just in case, let's send it by another means."

Kurama didn't seem to have heard Jingi's words at all. He put his cell phone in his pocket and took out something else in his place. It was a note on Japanese paper and a brush.

He scribbled something on a notepad and tossed it into the air. Concentrating on the fluttering notes, Kurama signaled at a speed that didn't draw attention.

"Humanity, earth and sky! Each one of us, the arts and crafts of our husbands, return to your roots!"

A localized tornado erupted, entangled the memo and propelled it into the sky. The note flew over his head like a bird into the sky at breakneck speed.

Looking at the stunned dedication, he nodded in satisfaction.

"With this, I should get to Chatarou properly. Come on, Jingi."

Looking at Kurama's back, who began to walk quickly, Jingi replied weakly.

"No, you don't need a cell phone, you..."

++++++++++

Izakaya "Usagi" has many advantages, but the biggest one is that you are free to bring your own food.

Of course, there is a fee per seat, but still, it's cheaper to bring as many snacks and sake as you want, and if you pay for the ingredients and technical fees, the owner, Azuki Mitarai, will cook you a decent dish. In Ninoshima, where there are many people engaged in agriculture and fishing, it was truly a dream shop.

That's why Kurama and Jingi visited "Usagi".

"Oh, Kurama-sensei! That's weird!"

"Sensei! Thank you very much for the other day! Thanks to you, my wife is fine!"

"Sensei! Have a drink! It's my treat!"

As soon as he entered the store, the customers welcomed Kurama at once. Kurama greeted with a smile, responded to the handshakes and gratefully accepted the alcohol and food they offered him. It was also nice not to show unnecessary restraint or concern, and it was one of Kurama's virtues.

Kurama, who was in high demand, was finally given a seat at the table in the center of the store. On the other hand, Jingi delivered the offerings received from the residents to Mitarai.

"Azuki-chan, I beg you to do this. Keep it nice."

"Okay, but I'll take the exact price. The bill won't be paid this time."

"Huh? Well, that's it, hahahaha..."

"Don't fake it by laughing."

Unlike Mitarai, who had a calm look, Jingi's gaze wavered.

Kurama thought with a drunken head. (My brother is in trouble.) Then it was his brother's turn.

"Okay, okay, I've got this place. Let's pop, pop!"

The interior of the store exploded.

"Oh, Sensei!"

"Are you sure you want me to do that...? We didn't do anything."

"But that's what Kurama-sensei said. I'm grateful here..."

Kurama tilted his head. He really didn't understand why everyone was so upset. It occurred to him that his comments were interpreted as "treat everyone".

Jingi noticed the same thing and rolled his eyes and said:

"Wait, wait, you cheeky bastards! Why would Haru-nii buy from you?"

"Of course it's fine! Everyone's portion is also my present!"

Jingi opened his mouth wide and the drunken guests cheered.

"Uooooooh, as expected of Kurama-sensei! Higher humans are different!"

"Sensei! Bring as many bottles of sake as you can! Sensei, I'll order it for you!"

"Sensei, I will follow you forever!"

"Sen-sei! Sen-sei!"

"Sen-sei! Sen-sei!"

Kurama laughed and waved to the applause that rained down. Jingi said bitterly as he sat down across from Kurama.

"Hey, Haru-nii! Are you alright?! Even the Kasen Shrine can't afford it!"

"Well, that's good. It's a celebration of devotion to work."

"No, I just happened to work today, and it's not like I'm going to get a job."

"Oooh?! Did you hear that?! Looks like Jingi is going to get a job!"

"What?! That devastating dedication!"

"Jingi's Dedication?!"

"A worthless dedication!

"Stay in line there. I'll hit you one by one!"

He got angry and kicked his seat, but the same number of sake bottles as the number of guests were pushed, and they were thrown back to their seat. The sake cups were lined up in front of Kurama, and they poured one after the other without worrying about spilling.

"Come on, Sensei! First of all, come over here!"

"Yes."

For now, Kurama held the sake cup in front of him high.

"Good luck then."

"Cheers!"

He didn't remember much after that.

He only remembered the hands of the owner who brought the food, his expression of devotion as if he had swallowed a sour bug, how he toasted each time a new customer arrived, and how many people asked him for advice, but his drunken head closed. But he couldn't quite understand, and when he repeated "I see" and "I see", the conversation somehow went smoothly.

Before long, those hours had passed, and when the only people sitting at the table were Kurama and Jingi, he suddenly said:

"How is Yukito-kun?"

"Eh?"

Jingi, who was drinking chuhai, looked at Kurama with dark eyes. Up to that point, he's been drinking gallons. "Ah...", he let out a voice that sounded just like he remembered it, and Jingi laughed out loud.

"That reminds me, I heard you met him the other day. Somewhere in the woods. I don't know what to do, but please tell me, thank you."

"Thank you? What?"

"Well? He mentioned that he was able to get home thanks to you. He got lost?"

Kurama thought with a drunken head. It is true that he met Yukito during a bath in the forest, but he didn't think he was lost. All Kurama knows is that they had tea together and had a good time chatting.

Jingi then slammed his body against the back. Suspending the handle of the cup with just his little finger and turning it (Kurama thought it was dangerous, he shouldn't do it), he said without looking at anyone.

"Well, is it okay for me to be his teacher? Isn't it better that I be Haru-nii? You have two apprentices of the same age."

It's not like he's complaining. Jingi is not that kind of person. He was just expressing a question that had just popped into his head.

Indeed, Kurama thought. Jingi isn't necessarily qualified as a hookup master. Little serious and irresponsible, living from day to day. No matter how much a person likes Jingi, he can't deny that he is given such an evaluation.

But Kurama smiled and shook his head.

"That's not true, Jingi. Luckily, you're fine as his master."

Jingi looked at Kurama. He had a look as if he was asking, "Why?"

Kurama closed his eyes thoughtfully and answered.

"Of all of us, you are more like his master than anyone. You are similar in his ugly parts, but you are also similar in his amazing parts. That is why you are perfect for Yukito-kun, my master's son."

"......"

"Aka and I probably won't be as good as you. We won't be able to open Yukito-kun's heart. That's why he's okay with you, Jingi."

Jingi gasped slightly. It must have been because his head was half asleep. Kurama didn't quite understand who he was talking about.

He just took a small breath and laughed.

"Then. Well, if Haru-nii says so, I will remain his master in silence."

"Yeah. That's fine. That's fine."

It was then that he lost consciousness for a moment.

Before he knew it, Kurama was being shaken by someone. When he opened his eyes and looked over there, he seemed to be the owner's face. With a slightly concerned look on his face, he shook Kurama's shoulder.

"Sensei, Kurama-sensei, we're closing the shop. Damn those guys, they made him drink until he was like this…"

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry, Mitarai-san. It's alright, I'll prepare..."

"Hmm? Are you going to walk along the river bank?"

For some reason, while drinking canned chuhai, Jingi, who was sitting in front of him, asked curiously. Kurama smiled wryly. Sleeping for a moment, his thoughts woke up a bit. The difference between Kurama and Jingi is that he likes sake, but not enough to drink.

"No, it's the end of the day, Jingi. Go home properly for today."

"...Yes."

Seeing his younger brother nod more obediently than usual, Kurama smirked and reached for his kariginu's chest.

He serched and serched.

He serched again.

Kurama then looked at Jingi. With a troubled smile, Jingi's expression suddenly clouded over.

"Jingi."

"What's happen?"

"Apparently, I lost my wallet. I think it was when I faced the Aramitama."

"Eh?"

The matter seemed problematic. If Jingi said the same, he'd probably be cussing, "Liar, you runaway bastard!" There was no way the famous Kurama could do such a thing. Before long, his gaze remained on Jingi's twitching face, as did Kurama.

At that moment, Kurama, with a completely innocent smile on his face, said to Jingi:

"Then please take care of me, Jingi."

"Even so, you really listen to what Sensei says, you bastard. To think that he would just go looking for his wallet."

Mitarai muttered something like that as he cleaned the shop.

To his credit, Kurama was allowed to wait inside the shop. Although it is spring, the nights are still cold. It was a political consideration that he couldn't throw at a celebrity who was still drinking sake, but Kurama didn't notice that and grabbed the cup of tea he had just drunk with both hands.

"Yes. He's a reliable little brother."

He said it sincerely and drank the tea.

[dansnaturepictures]

21/01/23-Blog 1 of 3: Winnall Moors-Post 1: The story of the visit

I had had the idea for a little while to visit Winnall Moors on a weekend morning, the reserve I started visiting occasionally on my Winchester in office working days over the summer/autumn that would currently be too wet to do with work clothes/shoes on. It was largely just to see this lovely spot again but also felt a good idea especially on a sunny morning with the amount of photos we’ve seen online from there of late of Kingfishers and other things. So my Mum and I did it today in perfect sunny conditions and had an amazing time this morning.

We saw one of the Kingfisher pair, the “red-lipped” lady within minutes of walking up the Water Vole trail getting some fantastic views. Then further around adjacent to North Walls Recreation Ground the other side of the water we got phenomenal views of the male dashing around and still in the exquisite sunlight. We spent some glee filled minutes entranced by these angelic wonders. It was sensational to see them at different points along the river, getting some of our closest ever views the male especially of one of our favourite birds and a species we have known for so long, and we saw these Kingfishers dive to hunt more times than we ever had before today. It was brilliant to watch their face of focus poised on the sparkly water then see them plummet and linger on the water’s surface a bit. This set today apart from any other sightings we’ve had of them, and really made it a big experience and moment. They’re a bird we always love seeing and we’ve seen so well this year already, but this allowed us more focused time zooming in on a bird and was so thrilling. They said on BBC Winterwatch last night get out this weekend and find a natural spectacle and this for us felt like an inspiring one. This is a bird I always feel so fortunate to photograph and is real adrenaline stuff for me with my history of taking a few years to get photos of one and how much the prospect excites me and it was paradise today for photo opportunities, it was a rare occasion I got top chances for photos of the bird and others with both my DSLR camera with big lens on and bridge camera playing to their different strengths. I took the seventh picture in this photoset of the male bird, my next post up shortly has ten more Kingfisher photos I took today. It was lovely to get chatting to a few others here enjoying the bird.

But it wasn’t all about the Kingfishers as we saw so much else here today. Leading the other sightings was one that I had a hope of seeing that we hadn’t yet this year which I had heard here before, a Cetti’s Warbler. We heard it’s fluent and energetic call then saw it scuttle along low bits of vegetation over the water hearing others too and my Mum saw another. One of my birds of the year so far, a smashing year tick and cracking view of it. The other two big stars here this morning were Redwing and Buzzard, getting excellent views of a few of the former a divine thrush. Some of my best views this winter perhaps of a brilliant and beautiful bird I took the second picture in this photoset of one. As I had seen here before on I believe my last visit where I walked around at a lunch time (I had a further one in November I believe where I just ate lunch at the entrance) a majestic Buzzard stood as master of the marsh on a dead tree. And one also thrillingly flew into trees right by us which we got astonishing views of. I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of the latter. 

Top views of Wren as the sixth picture in this photoset shows, exciting Goldcrest again after yesterday and star birds of my week Siskin and Chiffchaff seen as well as Sparrowhawk were other highlights. Adding nicely to the freshness and wonder of being out early in the day was bird song at the nearby car park, Robin singing beautifully and Great Tit I seem to recall. I enjoyed seeing catkins especially at the nearby car park, possible frosted thistle leaves as the fifth picture in this photoset shows, possible daffodil shoots under water and cleavers.

It was also just so nice to be out early on in such a lovely day the weather was great, appreciating the soft winter sunlight bringing to life the woodland with epic bare trees seen well alongside pines, reedbeds and riverine habitat with nice views of hills and into Winchester. The crispness of the day was memorable too with frost and ice on show again, I enjoyed a stunning sunny frosty view of the green out the front as we left with a Robin nestled into the forsythia hedge which was a great start to the day with Mute Swans seen from my room this morning nicely flying at a distance. I took the first, third, fourth, eighth and ninth pictures in this photoset of views at Winnall Moors today. What an enriching and stunning morning in nature.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Cetti’s Warbler of the year, Kingfisher, Great Spotted Woodpecker and Jay more of my long term favourites seen nicely too, Buzzard, Sparrowhawk, Carrion Crow seen well, Feral Pigeon, Blackbird, Redwing, great views of Robin, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Dunnock, Wren, Chiffchaff, Chaffinch seen well, Goldfinch, Siskin, Goldcrest, Mallard, Moorhen, Cormorant and I seem to recall Woodpigeon and Grey Squirrel.

The rest of today’s posts are here: https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/707085601005010945/210123-blog-2-of-3-winnall-moors-post-2-ten and  https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/707087041049034752/210123-blog-3-of-3-mercer-way-romsey-following

[rcgalities]

in the great land of luyuin, DHARYA YRSAOTTIR of HOUSE NORÕRI begins their journey towards the isle of glass. known to be COMPASSIONATE  and PERSISTENT, their suspected INSECURE and GULLIBLE habits might prove to be their undoing. if the bards could compose a song for them, it could tell stories of  A SMILE AFTER COMPLETING A HARD TASK, EYES THAT ALWAYS SEE THE GOOD IN EVERYTHING, THE SWEET SMELL OF ORANGE BLOSSOMS, GETTING BACK UP AFTER THE HUDREDTH TIME FALLING DOWN, SOFT HANDS CAPABLE OF GREAT VIOLENCE. the glass throne whispers to the LADY OF NORÕRI / MONSTER SLAYER IN TRAINING and it is said that their loyalties lie with HOUSE NORÕRI. only time will tell if the WITCHER has what it takes to ascend to the throne.

01. BASICS

FULL NAME: Dharya Aerith Yrsaottir. NICKNAME(S): Dhar, Dharie, The Winter Sun. TITLE(S): Lady Of Norõri, sister of the ruling lord. AGE & DoB: 85 & Unknown (celebrated on the tenth day of Sun's Dawn). GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman & She/her. OCCUPATION:  Monster slayer in training.

02.PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM: Landy Li. HAIR: Shining, straight black hair usually up in a high half pony tail, often adorned with silver jewelry when not training or hunting. EYE COLOR: Dark brown that looks almost black when in the shadows and lightens a bit in sunlight.  PIERCINGS: Two on each earlobe. CLOTHING STYLE:Simple and practical, yet beautiful dresses, mainly in pastel colors on her every day life and black when training or hunting. Doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry except for hair accesories. SIGNATURE SCENT: Orange blossoms, cinnamon, and iron.

03. PERSONALITY.

LABEL(S): The benevolent, the warrior princess, the pollyanna, the paradox. POSITIVE TRAITS:Compassionate, persistent, enthusiastic, hard working, sociable.  NEGATIVE TRAITS:  Insecure, gullible, overly trusting, self critical, perfectionist. ASTROLOGY: Aquarius sun, Virgo moon, Cancer rising. MBTI: ISFJ (The defender). TEMPERANMENT: Sanguine. MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic good. HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff. ELEMENT: Air.

04. FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER: tbd. FATHER: tbd. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: tbd. SIBLING(S): Audun Yrsaottir, lord of norõri. OTHERS: tbd.

05. BACKGROUND.

One cold morning, without anyone having adverted it, a baby wrapped in a yellow blanket, was left on the steps of the Norõri Stronghold. Her lips were tinted blue and her little hand was clasped around a crumpled piece of paper reading only one word 'Dharya'. The Lady of Norõri, surprised by the babe who should by all means have frozen to death already, and having already taken in three other children, decided to adopt this girl as well.

The youngest of the four Yrsaottir siblings, Dharya grew up without want of anything. Though her mother was often away, her eldest brother made sure she never lacked guidance and attention, and like a little duckling, it was common to see her follow him everywhere.

Dharya gained her moniker easily. Like the winter sun, she became a constant and welcome light in the dark hallways of the stronghold, a warm presence in every room she walked in. It was always easy to make her laugh and she trusted too quickly. All of this to say, it was truly a surprise for many when she decided to start her witcher training.

The training was as daunting and ruthless as it was promised to be. Dharya's small constitution and gentle nature didn't take easy to the torturing rituals and conditioning thrown upon her. Her laughter resounding through the halls was replaced by muted screams of pain and howls of exertion; her once pristine skin became riddled with scars. Many times she was told to quit this madness, even her mother, a proud monster slayer,believed that she did not have what it took. And yet, she persisted.

She kept rising every time she fell, bandaged her wounds and swallowed back the pain. Every night she would go to her chambers, bloody and broken, and vow to herself to do better the next day. And just like the sun in winter, every morning she would rise again, sore but determined, as radiant as the day before.

With time it became easier. Dharya's persistence bore its fruits, she managed to go through the process, and she became a full-fledged witcher, even if she was still not allowed to take on missions on her own.

Her sweet nature remains, and anyone who doesn't know her would not guess what she is by her appearance or demeanor alone.

[fishrpg]

2024-01-09: Hex 6,5 (Forest)

The scent of fallen leaves and damp earth percolates through the breeze.

Notable Feature: Dungeon (Druid's Tree) 

Medium size dungeon with 10 rooms

This site of abundant wildlife is a sacred site for druids in the area. It is a tower that has been both carved and grown inside a partially-hollowed giant redwood tree. It functions as a nursery for dangerous plants, a repository for rare seeds, and a source of power for the druids. Despite being without windows, the dungeon is lit by the tree's magical heartwood. The light shifts from dim to bright alongside the sunlight outside the tree.

Sometime in the past two days, a wanderer sneaked inside the tree looking for shelter. The wanderer, an elf named Gaelith Kerwin (adolescent male elf thug), became intoxicated and disoriented after eating some dangerous fruit. In a panic, Gaelith has begun destroying plants and injuring the heartwood in an attempt to escape. The tree screams in a language only the druids can hear, and thus the druids are unable to get close to the tree because of the how loud the screams are.

For anyone willing to brave the tower to help, the druids have requested a priority of operations. Save the heartwood first, then save the plants, and if possible, the last priority is to save Gaelith. If the tree is saved, the druids agree to reward the party with a single magical item called the Whispering Leaf. When the leaf is placed in the hollow of a tree or log and and a request for aid is whispered to the leaf, the leaf will disappear. A druid (likely not known to the party) will approach the party in 1d6 hours and assist them to the best of their ability for up to 24 hours.

Note: I won't be listing the full contents of treasure hoards and such because that took more time than I have available.

Hidden: Amphitheater of Malice

A priestess is chanting in an empty amphitheater while a severely-injured man lays on the ground nearby. The priestess is called Sister Aurelia (adult human female priest) and is suspicious of the party's approach. Her voice is ragged and hoarse, because she's been chanting almost nonstop for several hours in an attempt to silence and seal away the malicious whispers. Dozens of disembodied whispers try to goad the party into maiming or mutilating themselves in every language imaginable. This is the fate that has befallen Sister Aurelia's colleague, Brother Grigor. Between chants, Sister Aurelia asks the party to stabilize Brother Grigor and get him to Murlington (Hex 4,4) as soon as possible for medical and spiritual care. 

Hidden: Hogging the Spotlight

Inside a freshly-painted trading post called the Redwood Trading Post, an enthusiastic druid known only as The Moss (young adult nonbinary human druid) is keen to let everyone know about a recent theft in their midst. Two young men, Buck and Tomas, absconded with a prized truffle-hunting hog, presumably in an attempt to make money. The group headed northwest toward Hex 2,6 but are probably in struggling through Hex 3,5 when party is contacted. The Moss wants the hog back alive, but they are not concerned with what happens to Buck and Tomas.

Encounter: Not Dead Yet 

A flock of 6 vultures seem to be following the party closely, and far more stealthily than usual. The vultures continue to follow the party until they reach the overturned wagon of huckster named Reedy Wahler (adult male human scout) seeking to trade at the Redwood Trading Post. Reedy is willing to offer two potions of healing as a reward for assistance, but each potion has been diluted and restores half the usual HP (round down, minimum 1) 

[ryuzakemo128]

Original Characters Headcanons Part 1

Author's Note: These are the original characters I will be using for my original writing from time to time. If you want to request headcanons for any of them feel free to do so.

Masterlist 01

Masterlist 02

[Part 2] - Coming soon

Tara

She comes from a long line of ancient witches who were hunted in the time of the Witch Trials.

Merlin is her raven familiar who can speak, and he's been with her since she was a child.

Her powers are unpredictable, often manifesting in unexpected ways.

Her powers came on her thirteenth birthday, and she almost burned down the house trying to control them.

She lives in a cottage on the outskirts of town, hidden away from prying eyes.

She has a deep love for nature and animals, which is reflected in her magical abilities.

Her favorite spell is one that allows her to communicate with animals, and she often spends her days conversing with the local wildlife.

She has a scar on her left arm from when she accidentally transformed into a hawk during a botched spell.

She's self-taught, relying on old grimoires and her own instincts to hone her craft.

She takes care of animals like geese, ducks, quails, chickens, cats, and dogs at her home.

She has a greenhouse and a garden where she grows herbs and vegetables.

She is careful not to reveal her true identity to anyone, as she knows that it could put her in danger.

Her favorite color is green, which symbolizes growth, renewal, and nature.

Her raven familiar, Merlin, is her closest confidante and advisor.

Samantha

Samantha is a witch who lives in a quaint little cottage in the woods. She inherited her powers from her grandmother, who was also a witch.

She has an affinity for potions and brews magical elixirs that she sells to local shops in the nearby town.

She has a pet rabbit named Peter Cottontail who has the unique ability to turn invisible when scared.

Her favorite time of year is autumn, when the leaves change color and the air is crisp. She loves brewing potions that capture the essence of the season.

Her cottage is adorned with candles, herbs, and crystals, creating a cozy and magical atmosphere.

She has a large collection of rare grimoires that she uses for research and reference.

Her favorite spell to perform is one that can make people laugh uncontrollably.

She spends her weekends volunteering at the local animal shelter, where she helps find homes for abandoned animals.

Amelia

A fae princess, Amelia, has a pet fox named Loki.

She also specializes in healing magic, which she uses to help her people.

Her cottage is surrounded by a lush, magical forest that is home to all manner of enchanted creatures.

She has long, flowing hair the color of sunlight on leaves, and her eyes are the shade of moss.

Amelia loves music and often plays a small harp made from enchanted wood.

Her favorite time of year is the summer solstice, when the fae realm is at its most vibrant and alive.

She is known for her gentle nature and kind heart, often going out of her way to help those in need.

Despite her royal status, she prefers simple clothing made from natural fabrics like linen and wool.

Lily

Lily is a mermaid who lives in a secluded lagoon deep within the ocean. Her cottage is made entirely of coral and seaweed, blending seamlessly into its underwater surroundings.

She has the ability to control water, which she uses to communicate with other sea creatures and navigate through the ocean.

Her long, flowing hair is the color of the deepest blue sea and cascades down her back like a waterfall.

She spends her days swimming among the schools of fish and playing with dolphins in the lagoon.

Her favorite pastime is composing hauntingly beautiful melodies on her enchanted conch shell, which echo throughout the ocean.

She has a pet seahorse named Neptune who can change colors to blend in with his surroundings.

Lily's cottage is adorned with shells, pearls, and other sea treasures she has collected over the years.

Despite her solitary life, she is content and at peace with herself, enjoying the simple beauty of the ocean and its inhabitants.

Marianna

A incredibly wealthy fae, Marianna, has an affinity for glamour and beauty. She possesses an enchanting voice that can mesmerize anyone within hearing distance. Despite her love for luxury, she is deeply concerned about the environment and often uses her influence to promote sustainable practices.

She crafts her own clothes and accessories using rare fabrics and precious gemstones, which often catch the eye of even the most experienced fashionistas. Her home is a testament to her exquisite taste, filled with priceless artwork and antiques from around the world.

Marianna is known for her philanthropic efforts, often donating large sums of money to various causes. However, she remains somewhat reclusive, preferring to avoid the spotlight and maintain her privacy. Despite this, she is deeply loved and respected by those who know her.

She lives in a large estate on the outskirts of the fae realm, surrounded by lush gardens and a stunning natural landscape. The estate is guarded by powerful magical creatures, ensuring that Marianna remains safe and secure at all times.

She has several pet cats , all of which are magical in their own right, and spends much of her free time reading or practicing her musical talents on the harp. Despite her many luxuries, Marianna remains grounded and humble, always aware of the responsibilities that come with her immense wealth and power.

She has an alchemist laboratory hidden deep within her home, where she spends countless hours experimenting with new potions and elixirs. Her knowledge of magical substances is unmatched, and she often uses her expertise to create new spells and enchantments for friends and allies.

Jasper

Jasper is a powerful and respected vampire, known for his wisdom and diplomacy. He has held numerous positions of authority within the vampire community, always striving to maintain peace and stability. He is deeply concerned about the balance between the supernatural and human worlds.

Jasper possesses an air of regal elegance, which is amplified by his ageless beauty. He is fluent in several languages and has a vast knowledge of history, politics, and culture. He is often sought after for advice by both vampires and humans alike.

Jasper is committed to promoting tolerance and understanding between the various supernatural races. He frequently hosts gatherings at his luxurious estate, where representatives from different factions can come together to discuss issues of mutual concern. Despite his age and experience, Jasper remains open-minded and adaptable, always willing to learn from others.

Jasper lives in castle along with his male lovers, all of whom are also vampires. The castle is situated on a hill overlooking a small village, and its towers and turrets are adorned with stained glass windows that cast a kaleidoscope of colors throughout the castle's interior.

Jasper is an avid collector of art and rare books, which fill the castle's numerous rooms and corridors. He has a particular fondness for ancient manuscripts and illuminated texts, which he studies extensively in his private library. Despite his passion for knowledge, Jasper is also known for his love of music and dance, often hosting extravagant balls in the castle's grand ballroom.

Jasper is a talented musician himself, playing the violin with a virtuosity that rivals even the most accomplished human performers. He also has a secret garden on the castle grounds, where he spends hours lost in thought or composing new melodies. Despite his many responsibilities, Jasper remains dedicated to the pursuit of beauty and creativity, both in his own life and in the world around him.

Ember

Ember is a vampire from Italy, known for her beauty and charm. She's been living for centuries, and her life is filled with intrigue and danger. Despite her immortality, she's haunted by memories of her human life and the love she lost.

Ember was a nurse, caring for the sick and injured during World War II. She met a handsome soldier named Lorenzo, who captured her heart. They fell deeply in love, but their happiness was short-lived. Lorenzo was killed in action, and Ember's grief turned her into a vampire.

Now, Ember wanders the world, searching for meaning in her immortal existence. She avoids other vampires, preferring the company of humans whom she can control without resorting to violence. Ember's beauty and allure make it easy for her to blend in with society, but she remains an outsider, always looking in.

She became a chef for humans in the late 1980s, opening a restaurant called "Blood and Roses." The menu features dishes with a twist, incorporating ingredients like garlic and sunlight into the recipes. Her culinary skills are matched only by her ability to manipulate people with her words and actions. Despite her best efforts, Ember can't escape the loneliness that comes with her immortality.

She currently lives in a renaissance era mansion that was in her family for generations, located in the heart of Florence. The mansion is filled with priceless art and antiques, but it's also a prison for Ember. She longs to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and the touch of a loved one. Her existence is a constant reminder of the love she lost and the life she can never have again.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

DC

theyll fall asleep without you by CosmoKid

[15:45] MISSED CALL to Mom

[15:45] MISSED CALL to Mom

[15:56] MISSED CALL to Mom

[15:57] MISSED CALL to Dad

[16:00] MISSED CALL to Dad

[16:01] “Hi, you’ve reached the voicemail of Jack Drake, it appears that Jack Drake can’t come to the phone right now, you can leave a message for Jack Drake after the beep.”

// whumptober day 15: forgotten

SVSSS

it was a sunny afternoon on Qing Jing Peak... by Justread0verandover

Shen Qingqiu is raising Luo Binghe as a totally normal teenager, just like all the other teenagers he's seen in his previous life.

Alternatively, Shen Qingqiu has never heard of the word 'flirting' in his life. What do you mean, teens are not supposed to be like that?

Star Wars

What the Stars Let in by ShyOwl

Peace in the New Republic is not coming as easy as desired.

The newly reformed, and quickly growing, Mandalorians and their fearsome king have announced they will not join the New Republic’s hold and it is making keeping the peace become progressively more difficult to the point political marriage may be the only way to prevent bloodshed. However, no one in the New Republic can meet the impossible standards set by the Mand’alor.

Well, almost no one. Fortunately, Senator Organa has a very eligible Jedi-warrior brother.

Novel Notions by Phosphorescent

“I thought you’d enjoy reading about Master Obwain Kibonek and how the Jedi used to be portrayed in pop culture.”

“Thanks,” Luke said dryly, eyeing the cover again. The man’s abs glistened in the sunlight as though oiled, and his hair… no one in real life had hair that perfect, no more than anyone had naturally kohled eyes. “I think.”

Clone Wars

reel to reel by yellow_caballero

Part 1 of Clone Wars Roleswap AU (NOTE: This whole series KILLED me, you guys - definitely check out the series too)

Obi-Wan Kenobi is proud to be a padawan soldier in the Clone Wars, but he makes a pretty mediocre Jedi. As a student of the two most notorious Jedi in the order, he’d rather spend time learning how to shoot than learning how to meditate. And as a brother to Cody and the 501st, he’d rather spend time running his military black market ring than learning how to be the perfect Jedi.

Perfect Jedi don’t spend their teenage years hunting down clone conspiracies and preventing their master Anakin Skywalker from going off the deep end. But maybe the galaxy has no room for a perfect Jedi anymore.

Temptations of Trouble Yet to Come by shipNslash

“My point, Cody,” Obi-Wan continues, leaning back a little to stare up at the stars, “is that this whole ‘war' business has been a tad bit stressful. I’ve decided that if the only way to keep my sanity is to engage in a few… ” He turns from the stars, then, and meets Cody’s eye with an unreadable look. “Indulgences… Well, needs must.”

He offers him the nic-stick, little wisps of smoke floating between them. “I’ll share one with you, if you promise not to tell on me to Anakin."

-

Five bad habits Cody learns from Obi-Wan Kenobi (and one good habit Obi-Wan learns in exchange). Alternatively, how Obi-Wan Kenobi single handedly corrupts every clone in the GAR because of his giant crush on his commander and how Cody single handedly saves the galaxy as a result.

AKA the 5+1 crack fic that mutated into a full blown AU, featuring caffeine, nicotine, yearning, and pining.

war is a looming specter by CallToMuster

“Hey,” Anakin said softly, kneeling down. “Are you alright, Master?”

Obi-Wan raised his head and revealed his pale, blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes. “I – I can’t – I can’t do it again, I can’t–”

At his side, Boga let out a soft trill and raised her head to swipe her tongue down the side of Obi-Wan’s face.

[Or: in the shadow of the first battle of Geonosis, Anakin learns the Jedi are going to war. His first thought is of Obi-Wan.]

To have and behold by galateaGalvanized (NOTE: This fic is thinly veined pining-and-porn and I will not apologise for it)

“We’ll just need to change the plan a bit,” Obi-Wan had said with brisk certainty. “But we'll be fine, and we'll surely get into less trouble than Anakin and Ahsoka would have.”

Or: The Republic sends Commander Cody and General Kenobi to Zygerria instead.

Surrendering to the Pirate by wanderingjedihistorian (RangerJedi67)

Obi-Wan Kenobi, a young nobleman, hadn't expected that meeting a handsome pirate commodore would change everything.

Safe passage by WhisperingDarkness

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and did his best to press the anxiety he was feeling away. His hands were steady as he adjusted the settings of the communcation set-up of the small vessel he was currently piloting. He purposefully set the comm to audio only on his side. He hadn't been a padawan for long, but if there was one thing he'd learned during his missions with Master Jinn, it was that it was rare for anyone, especially politicians, to take a padawan seriously.

He assumed the same held true for the leader of an enemy empire.

[lightning-etc-lord]

Mr. Jing in the night.

When he walks up to the stage, a sudden expectant silence follows. Jing Yuan is dressed pretty well— with a black sleeveless turtleneck that displays his biceps and forearms, cropped just under his chest to allow a good view of his abdominal muscles. He wears pants, too. Red ones that hug his thighs perfectly, the leather of it displaying the curves at each flex of muscle. And he knows he’s going to give a show, knows he’ll be the center of these people’s eyes. It only makes him more mischievous.

The pole is a friend, one that he knows well. Jing Yuan greets the pole first by spinning around it, then turns towards his audience with a sheepish grin— and grips the bar with both hands before launching his body up, hooking a leg around the pole as his muscles flex to hold his weight. He’s upside down, giving a spin, until his hands leave the pole as well and all holding him two meters above the ground are the muscles of his thighs. The clothes, although covering well, can’t hide how strong his legs are. Jing Yuan rolls his hips to the rhythm of the music, then trade his position to stand upright, both feet on the ground once more. As the music becomes more energetic, he climbs the pole again, this time holding himself with both arms and letting his legs dangle a little. Every movement is slow, even though the music is beginning to go too fast. Until he hooks another leg around the pole, bending his waist backwards to the middle, following the rhythm of the music with his arms and neck instead.

After a show of pure strength, the man hoops off the center of the platform to mingle with the customers. He dances while walking, coming up to y/m/n with a grin that is both devious and innocent at the same time. Naughty. Yuan climbs on y/m/n’s lap, bringing one hand to their neck while the other traces their lips. He tightens his grip on their neck slightly, and licks his own lips, clearly full of ill thoughts. All the while, his hips keep rolling to the rhythm of the music, never actually leaning all of his weight over the customer. He links their hands eventually, allowing touch. Once both hands are on his abdomen, Yuan raises his arms to motion accordingly to the music once more, flexing his muscles to let the customer feel just how hard he works out.

Once the exploration is over, he winks to y/m/n, smirk on his pretty lips. And then he’s gone, sliding his body one last time against his customer’s before he’s climbing back to the pole. Yuan holds it with both hands above his head, skin glistening with sweat and glitter as he keeps dancing, turning and tossing his own body to give all kinds of views. By the end of it he’s breathless, cheeks pinkish, but his mischievous smile doesn’t die. He knows very well what he’s looking like and isn’t apologetic at all. "Interested in a VIP session? Just ask for it at the entrance."

[stellartales]

thoma ▪︎ rubeum scutum

pairing: thoma x f!traveller/Lumine

summary: finding her on the ground of Chinju Forest in the midst of a dark, dreary thunderstorm — he didn't quite expect they would meet again in this way not long after the Vision Hunt Decree blew over. Never did he realize how much more she meant to him until he saw her cold, motionless body that very night — | m.list

theme/genre(s): inspired by thoma's hangout event, friends to lovers, slow-but-not-that-slow burn romance, injured traveller/reader/Lumine (whichever you prefer), Thoma takes care of you/her/Lumine, a series made up of drabbles.

a/n: mentioned on my previous post(s), this is inspired by the hangout event with Thoma, crafted with more narrative and a fabricated plot as its base. this is not exactly a series but a compilation of drabbles? you'd see what i mean as more comes after this one.

i find his constellation name pretty fitting for what I'm about to write; it's the perfect representation of his whole character, a protector (I mean, duh that's why mihoyo gave him that name. And omg, I play in CN but I'm very aware that his Japanese VA also voices Ichigo from Bleach and his name meant "to protect".)

forgive me, this one may be a little long (1k+?) and may contain some errors but i hope you'll enjoy this anyway!

Please reblog :3

01 ▪︎ a moment in bloom

The mellow sweetness of Sakura Bloom in the breeze blowing over the Kamisato Estate swept across the room, tickling her nose and rousing her to stir under the duvet of the futon.

Her brows furrowed on her warm forehead as her hands fell away from her torso in her movement to lie on her side, dropping to the cool tatami floor with a dull thud.

Another sweep of rushing breeze blew over her through the gaping doors.

Her eyes opened, but snapped shut immediately with a sharp intake of breath. A weak groan accompanied her as she opened them once more, squinting against the bright scenery outside.

Her fingers dug into the tatami floor in her effort to push herself off the futon as she tried to understand everything.

From the futon she sat on to the simple, yet elegant room, the courtyard unhindered by the sliding doors stroked a vague spark of recognition in her as she stared out, relishing in the fresh, ocean breeze gushing into the room every now and then as her eyes roamed.

Among the trimmed grass and intricately manicured Bonsai trees, the beds of artistic sand were so clean and white sunlight seemed to be reflecting off them. And behind all these, a vast scene of the bright blue sky and puffy, white clouds beamed back at her in the warmth of the sun.

She'd been here before, her eyes widened as her realization fed her answers. Ayaka...and Thoma.

A frown pinched between her brows; confusion was written all over her face.

...But how?

The last she remembered was her struggle trying to travel under a thunderstorm. In Monstadt or Liyue, people would look at her as if she had grown two heads when she was out and about in such weather. In Inazuma where thunderstorms could last from a day to two, it wasn't unheard of to hit the road even in such weather conditions.

...Though, she wasn't exactly in her best condition when she decided to venture in the rain, a sheepish thought reminded her.

The brush of another breeze against her cheeks drew her eyes to the garden outside where a rain of Sakura Bloom flower petals danced, glorifying the vibrant greenery it adorned even more.

The same scene that struck her amazed with its beauty the first day she stepped into the Kamisato Estate.

Fingers sank into the soft duvet and peeled it off her as she lifted herself up from the futon with effort, staggering to stand with wobbly knees. The floor felt cold to her feet which had been kept warm too long under the cover as she stepped or rather stumbled her way to the vendetta.

Her footsteps were heavy and shaky, breathing was audibly fast and her hair was plastered to her forehead by a thin coat of sweat.

How long had she been sleeping? a question crossed her mind as she stopped at the door to catch her breath, fingers clutching tightly on the wood to support herself. Clearly, her legs had yet to wake up; slumbering muscles protesting against every movement she made.

Determined to leave the room, a stubborn frown ridged beneath her fringe as she heaved herself away from the door, her legs plopping forward. Eyes focused down on her feet, the sound of footsteps from round the corner pulled her gaze up but was too late.

Colliding headfirst, a sharp gasp huffed from her lungs as she tumbled. The momentum in the unsteady gait she was moving in sent her knocking down whoever was in front along with her—

Brows furrowed and eyes closed to the pain bloomed across her forehead, she sat up, cradling her head with a hand in her attempt to soothe the dull ache.

A deep, masculine groan from beneath made her look down, letting go of her head. ...Only to find Thoma returning her gaze with a grimacing smile and a hand grasping onto his chin.

Surprise flitted across her face. "Thoma!"

"Is your skull...perhaps made of stone?" His body underneath her palms rumbled as he chuckled, eyes dancing in amusement. "I'm kind of worried. You think I should get a doctor to check my chin for fractures?" His smile turned mischievous as the man shifted to prop his elbows under him, chin resting atop his chest.

She narrowed her eyes pointedly at the smile he cracked at her.

"Haha, very funny." Her tone deepened with sarcasm, eyes rolling. "Your chin is pretty hard too, y'know? Maybe the doctor should check me for a concussion while you're at it."

"Sure," His laughing eyes flickered down, "I...oh—" and immediately averted with a flustered gaze, falling into silence.

She eyed him, puzzled by his sudden display of bashfulness. Gone was the amusement in his eyes. Gone was the teasing smile. Only a curious reddening of his cheeks and the nervous bob moving in his throat.

Confusion followed her as she dropped her gaze onto herself and right away, a gasp fled her—

Scandalous came screaming in her head as soon as she laid her eyes on the swells of her breasts peeking out of the white yukata she didn't even realize she was wearing; its obi had somehow loosen when she collided into Thoma.

And to make things worse, the split between the sleepwear revealing her thighs as she found herself sitting, no, straddling the man created a vulgar picture altogether.

As if she was burnt, she scrambled off him with a panicked squeal, tugging the yukata tightly around her figure as her knees scraped against the polished wooden floor in her haste to scoot away.

"—ohmygod, I'm sorry. ohmygod, I'm sorry. ohmygod, I'm sorry..." her mouth fumbled with flustered apologies as her eyes stared bewildered at the floor below, cheeks burning as her hands looped the obi around her waist shakily.

Sensing more than seeing his movement as he climbed back onto his feet, she heard him shifting beside or behind her; she wasn't sure and she was too embarrassed to care!

Her lips parted with a silent heavy sigh as she leaned her weight back onto her ankles, sinking further onto the floor and hands dropping away from the newly tied knob at her waist. ...if only the floor could swallow her up right now.

The touch of a hand on her forehead tugged her eyes up and she was met by a frowning Thoma kneeling before her. She blinked at the look of focus on his face.

As though she did not just accidentally flashed herself at him, the serious glint reflecting in his green eyes silenced the flustered voice in her head — she felt herself calm down almost immediately.

"You're still feverish..." She heard him murmur under his breath.

Catching onto his words sparked an onslaught of questions which previously occupied her thoughts. "—how did I end up here?" a confused frown marred her forehead. "Wasn't I in the forest?...the Chinju Forest?"

Thoma drew his hand away, eyes flitting down while her bemused ones raised to look at him, not aware of the way his jaw clenched and his lips held in a stern line...only until she met his face, did she find herself being glared at.

Her next breath was caught in her throat as she jolted with a startle to see the usually smiling Thoma looking...upset with her?

"Exactly," Thoma reprimanded, his voice dipping low. "I'd like to know why I found you lying unconscious in that forest, with a burning forehead in that thunderstorm." There was a momentary pause as concern grew evident in his green eyes. "also, that wound on your back..."

Her eyes sprang wide in her surprise; she knew exactly which wound he was talking about.

It was the very one she received from the Raiden Shogun in her attempt to save Thoma from the Vision Hunt Decree.

Whenever it ached in her movements, it was a reminder of how she had simply brushed it off as a mere scratch when he asked and gave it a quick, prompt treatment of her own before heading back into the wilderness once again for urgent errands.

—perhaps that was not the wisest thing to do then.

Sheepishness made its way on her face as her eyes snapped over shoulder for a quick glance.

"Oh, that." she shook her head at him, smiling the most reassuring smile she could. "Not to worry, it hurts now and then but it's just a small cut and mostly healed—"

"A small cut? Mostly healed?" There was exasperation on his face as he interjected. "It's infected." The tight knot of frustration and worry in his chest intensified, showing on his face and in the stiff way he kneeled before her.

...remembering the gripping fear the very moment he found her cold and unresponsive on the forest ground. the panic that brought him down to his knees beside her fallen figure. the desperation rendering him unable to think clearly for the few shortlived but tormenting minutes, thinking that the worst had happened to her.

— emotions he never realized he was capable of harboring for someone he only met weeks ago.

Falling into silence, a twinge of guilt turned her stomach at the sight of the agonized look on Thoma's face, her eyes flitting down in time to catch his hands curl into trembling fists on his thighs.

Somewhat stunned to see this side of the usually relaxed, happy man, her guilt grew stronger.

"I'm sorry, Thoma..." Remorse followed her gaze as she raised her eyes to meet his quiet, brooding ones.

Thoma raised a hand to rake through his messy hair. "No, no...don't apologize." His face fell with a heavy sigh, eyes closing for a second. "It's my fault you have that wound on your back in the first place."

The tension on his face had relaxed when his eyes opened again to meet hers."You're going around taking care of everyone and everything, but what about yourself?"

As if they were reminded to make known of their presence upon hearing Thoma's point, the weight of her bone-deep fatigue suddenly felt almost tangible in her every limb.

—Thoma watched an inevitable, weary sigh escape her silently, immediately feeling a twinge in his chest; an tugging ache that made him want to do something... anything to lift off what seemed like the weight of the world on her shoulders, even if it meant just a little.

The Kamisato siblings were about to leave the estate for some governmental affairs in the main city yesterday when he brought her in. Worried about her friend, Ayaka was reluctant to leave but duties called.

She left no instructions in her haste to leave for the city, but it was clear what he needed to do as the one who helped run things for the Kamisato Clan — to assign her to the care of Furuta the Housekeeper. In fact, handing her over to the older woman was the most logical thing to do, given how much things he still had to oversee.

But...

Thoma cracked a wry smile at her, "From abolishing the Vision Hunt Decree to the little errands you do everyday, it's no wonder you're in this state now." A decisive glint entered his eyes."But not to worry, you're in good hands; I'll take very good care of you."

—a sound caught between a growl and a grumble drew his eyes to her stomach, just as he finished his sentence.

Quirking an amused smile at her, he added, chuckling.

"And, that."

—published on 23.10.2021

| NEXT (coming soon)

[lychniis]

— RUN TO ME ;; childe | tartaglia ✧ 01

( 💧 )  CHAPTER ONE !!  ↳  ❝ the sunrise, accounted for ❞

WARNING(S) : this chapter contains hints at abuse and neglect as well as bits of past trauma. there is also a few mentions of blood. please read with caution.

« prev • index • next »

The last thing the man-in-the-home-but-not-home told you when you departed was a threat. A warning to never come back to the house in the tiny hunting village in the woods you lived in, whispered in a haggard, apathetic voice void of any parental grief or emotion. He didn’t cry over your choice or beg you to stay. He only regarded with silent fury, barked words, and just that — a warning. 

You watched him throw the last of your belongings into the snowy floor you stood upon and his dead, bullet hole eyes stared back at you for a good moment to enunciate his words before the door slams shut. 

You remember standing there, blinking with shock at the surreal mess of a situation, clutching your bleeding arm from his initial, infuriated assault, your dark clothing starkly against the expanse of whites and grays that surrounded you. The dim lighting from the sun did little to warm your bones or soothe your wounds. Instead, it kept working away, tearing you open, bloody and raw.

You remember the chilling realization settling in, hand gripping the letters you were sent, the letters that goaded you, gave you hope, kept you going for as far. The letters that you should have despised for steering you astray, for having the audacity to make you poke your head beyond the walls that trapped you in.

But you didn’t.

You never could. So they stayed in your clenched hands, bits of the ink smudging against the melting snow.

And then you felt it, that single, startling thought ( you dared, you dared to think, to act out of line ). One that filled you with complete and utter terror; terror accompanied with the tiniest glimmer of hope that you could not trust just yet, that fleeting little spark in your chest you kept obscured behind cupped hands and reluctant walls.

Were you free?

You tried to think about it. It was hard. You were still scared, still desperate and your tongue was close to betraying your actions thus far, ready to apologize, to take back what you said and did and you knew then that you were not free. 

The cold settled deeper, sleeping past your muscles, past your bone, into your marrow. It choked your lungs and stole your breaths. You remembered how you collapsed with you limbs feeling weak and heavy, head spinning, throat dry, everything, everything blurring away and distorting to nothing but terror and panic.

You would never be free. 

Four years later, the thought still weighs down on you.

There is an air of quiet around you when you turn the fatui insignia in your hand as you stand amidst your luggage under the flickering lamplight and the throngs of chattering recruits. The boat you were meant to board held people you barely knew from your years of training or didn’t know at all, setting sail south towards Liyue harbor and the new Harbinger under the Tsaritsa’s command that was stationed there.

You were finally leaving Snezhnaya’s blizzards, leaving home and all sense of familiarity.

It terrified you.

Ah…

You shut your eyes, breath in then out again.

You had no time to grow cold feet just yet. Not in the midst of your graduation. Not while your instructor delivered his final speech before you boarded that boat and headed out with the rest of your teammates. A haggard breath puffed out of your lips, misting over and your lungs felt cold while your hands were sweaty. You were leaving. It rings in your head, over and over and over. You were leaving.

Keep your chin up, gaze straight and shoulders taut; stand in attention and show no feeling. You were a soldier now, act like it.

The tiny sliver of sunlight from the Snezhnayan sun gave way to utter darkness. The voices of mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters carried over to you, bidding their tearful farewells over the whistling winds. You try to stamp down the bitter jealousy weighing down on your tongue, your anxious expression shifting to a dour one for a moment. One last look was spared over your shoulder.

You don’t even know what you’re looking for.

What were you expecting? A last minute arrival? An apology? 

You let out a shaky exhale and step onto the ship.

Quiet.

Then the madness hits you face first. 

After you settled down in your bunk, you were assigned laundry duty with the stern reminder that slacking off en route to Liyue would not be tolerated. It was a week long voyage and chores had to be done on board. So you were shown down to the hull along with another agent and had a few buckets and old sheets shoved into your hands before your guide took their leave.

Alexei was the name of the agent who was put on laundry duty with you and he talked a lot. Sometimes it was about his family back at his hometown, sometimes it was about his training but it was mostly about himself. You’d have a hard time keeping up with his ramblings, not really wishing to cross the large hulking mass of muscle hanging up the clothes in front of him. He seemed to be the type to easily snap you in half and toss your remains into the horizons beyond.

Which, you think, was absolutely terrifying. 

“Then I tell Ilya ‘it tastes delicious’,” he continued. “And I reckon it was but I have little to no taste buds left in my mouth and the best I could do was lie about it through my teeth. Ilya is my friend, you know? I love him like a brother and if I ever hurt his feelings….” He shakes his head, ending his latest spiel with an exaggerated sigh. “Besides, he’s a sensitive guy! If I told him that, he'd be devastated!”

There was too much he spoke of and you could only just piece together the scattered fragments of his story together to understand the basic gist of his little anecdote. You hum and nod along life your life depends on it while Alexei takes a deep breath in and continues, waving his hands to add in that dramatic effect.

“And this was four years ago and since then, I’ve been keeping this secret. And I have no clue how long I can keep it up because I think he’s slowly beginning to catch on to it…and I can’t keep saying it’s a cold — ”

This was the most anyone had spoken to you, if you were being honest, outside of your teachers. Alexei’s ramblings were incessant and most of them held no point, flitting between topics that held little to no connections with each other and they were slowly but surely beginning to pick at your nerves. 

“We…uh…need more water…” you awkwardly cut in at one point, nervous sweat on your forehead, pointing to one of the empty buckets. Alexei pauses, caught off guard and you only then grasp the fact that you hadn’t spoken to him or in his presence thus far.

“Right, right…” he laughs. “Wow…for a moment there I thought you couldn’t talk at all…” Your eye twitches but you keep staring at the slightly muddied water like it was some ancient artifact worthy of your interest and attention. When the room falls silent and the door swings shut, you slump over and lean your head against the rim of the tub, a tired groan escaping your lips.

Some silence at last —

Alexei barges through the door again, catching you off guard. He worked quickly; quicker than you had anticipated and you would have been impressed if you hadn’t so strongly craved a bit of solitude. He drops the bucket beside you and peers at the cleaned sheets with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Hey, if I used my anemo delusion, would that dry the sheets faster?” he pipes up inquisitively while you replace the water in the tub and pour in the fresh bucketful, dunking the next set of sheets in. 

This time, between letting out a breathless huff from the labor and the mild ache in your arms, you decide to respond.

“I don’t think our superiors would approve of that.” 

“Oh right.” his tone had lost some of its initial beat ( you admittedly feel guilty now ) and he turns to stare out at the window. “I’ll have to exercise discipline, I guess. The delusions are not toys…but it was a good plan. Maybe it would’ve worked!” 

“Maybe.”

Alexei regards you, his stare piercing your back. “You don't talk very much…” he adds. “The conversation we had was entirely about me…have anything to share? It would be nice getting to know you.”

Your movement stutters. You look up to stare at him with wide eyes and he stares back. He was smiling and he almost seemed a little kinder; less intimidating, less encompassing, less overbearing. He almost looked like he wasn't going to tear you down and walk over your trust seconds after you hand it over to him.

Never again, a whisper lashes out in your head. Never again.

“There’s nothing to know about me.” you square your shoulders, fingers numb from the water. Alexei tilts his head to the side, like an inquisitive puppy and you apprehended the hostility your voice had taken on ( you sounded like a cornered animal…you probably looked like a cornered animal with your hackles raised and fangs bared ). “Sorry…” you choke out, guilt seeping through the cracks as you inwardly berate yourself for acting so cold, acting so aggressive, acting like him.

“Okay…” Alexei draws out carefully. You could feel him tiptoe around you, around the thin ice that made your constitution, that made your patience. It was thin ice that he swiftly caught on to ( and perhaps, you were too quick to jump into conclusions based on first impressions ) and wisely stepped away from.

Awkward silence follows. You aren't sure if it is welcome or not.

One moment…two moments…three moments…

Alexei speaks again. “So where are you working?”

You snap your head up, tense. “...working…?” you repeat, your throat a little dry from the building knot in your stomach and the chills in your chest. Alexei nods as if the question was the most obvious thing to ask and maybe it was granted the several branches the Fatui held when it came to jobs ( so surely there would be some curiosity, yes? ). 

“Yeah. I’m recruited to be a skirmisher — an anemoboxer stationed a little ways away from the Stone…gate…?” the location seems like it is foreign on his tongue and it is foreign to your ears. “Yeah the Stone Gate. And you —?” he prompts you expectantly, pinning up another set of clothes on the line. You cease your activity.

“Administration.” you finally admit. “At Northland Bank.”

Alexei whistles.

“So you’re working with the new Harbinger then?” he muses. “I don’t know if I should feel envy or pity.” he chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he does so. “There have been rumors about him flitting around since graduation. Like his age.” His voice dips to something akin to awe, the type of awe reserved for an entity so terrifying yet so fascinating. You’ve only heard that tone being used to describe some of the higher associates of Snezhnaya’s government, or the tsaritsa herself amongst the recruit’s whispered tales.

“His age?” you squint a little, finding nothing so scandalous within that topic that would incite the numerous supposed rumors amongst your peers. 

“He’s the youngest.” Alexei clarifies. “They say he’s just nineteen.”

That makes you freeze.

Nineteen?

That was only a year older than you.

“Oh.” your throat feels dry when you utter that singular word, like it had been sanded down and scorched down with too much firewater. You didn’t even know why you were so bothered by this snippet, but there was a sense of lacking in your portfolio now, if the sheet of paper was littered with noteworthy comments and ink splotches to begin with. Nineteen. You shake your head and huff. You could only dream of accomplishment like that.

Alexei regards the sheets, seemingly dropping the subject as typical of him so far. You squeeze the last of the sheets and hand it to Alexei before your numb hold winding around the handles of the tub to haul it out and empty the murky contents into the ocean. He collects the tub from you after that, and you leave without uttering anything else save a polite 

“Goodnight.”

The next two days pass by with relative monotony, much to the chagrin of the recruits. Chores were doubled by the captain out of spite and the wave of nausea from seasickness was beginning to poke and prod at your stomach. You had almost forgotten the feeling of solid land beneath your feet, or the stability that came with it.

The sudden appearance of the famed ‘Ilya’ that Alexei would rave about resulted in a volunteer who attempted to dry the laundry assigned to you ( a pile that had grown considerably now that you were accommodating the clothes of a whole ship full of recruits, the two of you included ) but was quickly given the boot when he seared a very noticeable hole onto your jacket.

Ilya took one look at it then ran like a coward.

“Don’t mind him, he just gets excitable sometimes.” Alexei assures you but there is a nervous tremble in his voice as he watches you hold up your jacket and motion pointedly at the damaged cloth with an accusing stare. The hallways below deck were mostly empty and his voice carried over the air. “Okay, yes, this is not a good thing…maybe no one would notice?” 

( It was almost funny to think he was twice your size now. )

You counter his statement by sticking your fingers through the hole on the shoulder. “No shit they won’t” you deadpan, wiggling your digits to further drive home the extent of the burn. Alexei’s lips press together and there’s a sheepish look on his face when you lay down your sardonic allegation. 

“At least it can be salvaged? We can fix it…” he proposes, attempting to rein in a bit of optimism. Foolish, you think, bitterness coating your tongue again. 

“With what, exactly? Sewing it isn't an option and I highly doubt we have any spare material for a proper mending — ” lies. You were just too terrified to face the officers overseeing the recruits in fears of facing any taxing punishments that they were inclined to hand out.

Alexei looks a little defeated. The guilt returns. You try not to let it fester. Rinse and repeat, that was how you handled the goliath of a man-child tasked with you. “Um…stuff…?”

You almost throw yourself overboard but you drive the urge to down ( the letters, you remind yourself with heaving breaths. think of the letters. ) and settle the cold fire roaring in your gut. “You…” you mutter out. “Do not expect me to acknowledge your existence hereafter.” Alexei lets out a squawk and shakes his head.

“No wait, you can’t be serious!” he protests. “But we’ve bonded so much the past week! You can’t just say none of that meant anything!” True to your word, you settle on a long, blank look before you move on to pacing down the hall again, coat hung limply in your arms. “And you’re the only other person who actually seems to stand my presence! That’s a big deal!”

“Huh, I swear I thought I heard something buzzing in my ear. Stupid fly — ” you mutter under your breath. Alexei, however, gifted with an untiring tongue, seemed to possess a pair of sharper than necessary ears as well and the annoyed murmuring was quickly caught on to.

“FLY?!”

His exclamation was jarring to face ( and you almost flinched, almost scrambled away from under his frame, almost screamed — but the impulse was forced down, your muscles were tightened and the cry was shoved down your barren throat ) and you shut your eyes as it bounces of the walls. “I am hurt! HURT! Shame on you for this blatant disrespect. SHAME!”

You wonder if you could simply slip by him and out of sight before you feel bad again ( your tongue already felt sour from the growing weight in your chest, the quiet scolding, that stupid demeaning voice scolding into your ear ). 

Your legs carry you quicker than your thoughts did, past Alexei, past the corner and up into the deck, first noticing the receding numbers of ice floes and icebergs in the scenery, a testament to the slowly increasing temperature.

A cautious set of eyes peer into the horizon.

You freeze.

There was a smudge of orange in the distance, an orange yellow that steadily rose above the ocean line bit by bit and the higher it crept up, the brighter the world around you grew. The first scatter of peach appears, peeling away through dark ink, then a calming pink, reflected down by the cloud cover. It glowed brighter and brighter and finally, came the burst of…

…oh.

You never thought the sky was so blue.

The orange ball was white and it was warm and you only just realized it was the sun. Not the faint source that hung over the Snezhnayan sky, barely offering its light through the borealis that would tear apart the dark cloaks of black and gray. The real sun that melted the residual frost hanging off of the trees, that would filter past your fingers in rays of gold.

 “It’s beautiful — ” you murmur, leaning forward to lean against the railing, and your chest feels light and warm and for a moment amidst the chaos, you feel normal and whole. Imagine waking up to this every day, something in you screams. It sounds childish but breathless and excitable all the same. Just imagine.

Your thoughts wander. You drift off.

The sun is warm on your numb fingertips. 

Liyue was bigger than expected and far more intimidating in person. It was different, you find out, to witness something through a painting or by book and it barely offered any justice to the true source and sheer scale of everything around you. From the crowds, to the colors and Archons above the very heat itself that had you shrugging off your coat for a moment lest you fall over. When the ship docks at the harbor, you're hit with hot, humid air, suspicious stares and a city you knew nothing of.

What stood out to you, though, was a ginger who waited amongst the civilians, eyes trained on you and the recruits. He had the looks of a typical Snezhnayan citizen, rusty hair and pale skin, fully donned in the telltale uniform of a fatui officer and the badge of a harbinger.

Your fingers tighten around the sharp metal of your own sigil.

His eyes land on you, sharp, dead, empty.

Your blood freezes.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫   AINE SPEAKS ;; 

i despised the first draft for this chapter. so i spiced it up and wrote another. the pain i feel is visceral. i also kept a thesaurus open for the sake of my sanity so i don't repeat any words and now i want to cry. look, i love writing this book but the perfectionist in me nitpicks while the procrastinator just curls up and sleeps.

that is NOT a good combinations. you can only be one and not the other bit nooooooo life had to be like "lol suffer" and pull this shit on me.

also unrelated but the reader just strongly reminds me of yurio from yuri ! on ice. in fact my sketches of how i interpret them and childe has me drawing this emo blonde with the same hairdo as yurio glaring half of the time at everyone and everything. hahaha good times, good times. but they bby on the inside though and they just want hugs and validation.

also yes, xiao served as inspiration as well.

rip reader's mental health. that's all i can say. they are going to go through a shit load of shitty shit with another pile of shit to add to it. childe is just a minor inconvenience for them to mom. 

yes, alexei will return with more fatui characters. the bunch of them have mini-arcs of their own planned ( hahaha how am i going to fit this in- ) to beat some sense into the reader so yeah! till then, thanks for reading!!!

the glaze lily dividers are mine btw, so no stealing!

© lychniis 2022. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[inkformyblood]

back to their intended journey

Day 01 @bobadinweek Prompt: Identity & Fighting Warnings: None

Din wakes in an instant, slipping between the dark depths of sleep to the blade-bright sunshine of a Tatooine morning, his hand already unfurling across the bed towards—

Something.

The pang of loss cuts at his chest, his dream barely remembered in tattered fragments that fall away as he stands. Din rises onto his toes reflexively, the harsh calluses on his feet not protecting him from the chilled floor, and he moves to the door that joins his room to Grogu’s.

He hadn’t known how to ask Boba for a space for his child. The words remained locked behind his teeth after the thought swirled into existence as the Jedi mentioned Grogu returning as if it was the simplest thing in the world. 

As if Din hadn’t torn out his soul when his ad’ika left to go and train with the Jedi.

It had been Boba who had listened as Din broke himself on the shattered rocks of his own grief and pain again and again. It had been Boba who had recognised his description of the Jedi — a rolling peal of laughter startling out of him and stopping Din’s tortured cycle in its tracks. It had been Boba who had found Din’s son once more and pressed the communicator into his hands without a second word and stepped out of the room.

But Boba had known, his gaze piercing through Din’s armour like it was nothing when Din had settled to stand by his side, resting his hip against the arm of the throne to take the pressure off of his bad leg. Boba had stretched up, hooking his curled finger beneath Din’s helmet — just brushing against the exposed skin as Din gasped, soundless but felt — and grinned, a slow, languid expression that suited Boba.

“Got you an upgrade, Mando,” Boba said, releasing him and Din had swayed, suddenly adrift in a violent sea of emotions all demanding to be felt. “Some extra space for when your ad stays. Should be ready by tonight, and I’ve picked up some things already. You can change whatever you want.”

Then he had gestured for the next supplicant to step forwards as if it was that simple. Din remained at his side and ghosted his fingers across Boba’s shoulder, tapping against the jut of his spine at the nape of his neck in silent thanks and been treated to that slow delighted grin once more. 

Din shakes off the hazy veil of memories and steps closer to the door but pauses, his hand outstretched towards the controls. The slow, easy, familiar voice wasn’t just from his memories as he began to be able to make out words from the melodic hum.

“—all about the balance, bero’ika.”

Din tips his head to one side, missing the clarity of sound filtered through his helmet, but without it, the rumble of Boba’s voice shudders through him. Heat blooms in his cheeks, as powerful as the midday sun, and it tears the air from his lungs. Silence reigns inside his head and echoes through his chest before he hears Boba speak again.

“Feel like helping me rule again? It’s looking like we’ve got a busy day ahead of us, but your buir can sleep for a while longer.”

Boba’s use of ‘we’ catches Din in the soft spaces between his ribs. Even before, at his covert, as one of the Beroyas, he was alone, separated from the others, but Boba welcomed him without hesitation. It was a debt he couldn’t put into words, and he knew the other man would insist that he didn’t need to carry that obligation.

Din forces his thoughts back into line, presses the stray whisper of “mhi ba'juri verde,” back into the shadows, and stretches out for the door controls. 

He catches himself, frozen by the sudden realisation that his helmet is still resting on the stand next to his bed. Din knew he had broken his Creed and would break it again a thousand times over for Grogu, but Boba hadn’t commented on it or judged him for returning to the familiar comfort of his helmet. The choice was fully in Din’s hands.

He wants to.

The feeling isn’t as much of a surprise now, curling across his shoulders like a contented lothcat rather than the first cold drowning terror of realisation.

The words bubble in his throat before he catches them behind the cage of his teeth. Not yet. He can’t take that final step.

“Boba?” 

“Yeah?”

Din sighs, a barely-there exhale. “Could you— could you close your eyes?”

“Already done.” Boba’s reply is swift, a warm thread of something Din didn’t dare name winding through his words. It softened the edges of them like a rock worn smooth by the endless passage of time, and Din taps the controls without a moment’s more hesitation.

Grogu shrieks when he sees him, his hands extending to reach for him like a grasping vine, and Boba sways with the movement, one hand cupping the wriggling child’s back to keep him secure. Din’s mouth dries, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he steps forward to cradle Grogu. 

As he does so, his hands brush against Boba’s arms — bare and roped with heavy scars, his natural golden skin burnt pale in coiling patches — and his fingers brush the curve of Boba’s belly. His torso is bare, his skin warm and burning, and a shiver runs down Din’s spine as the brush of contact burns away a chill he hadn’t been aware that he was carrying.

Boba’s eyes flicker behind trembling lids, his head tipping as he tries to track Din’s movement — his hunting instincts carved into his bones — but they remain firmly closed. This close, Din could track the slight rise and fall of Boba’s shoulders, unhurried and unconcerned, and watch the soft smile as it curls across his face.

“Good sleep?”

“Yeah.” Din’s voice cracks as he answers, and he ducks his head to nudge his nose across the curve of Grogu’s skull, the child tipping back in his arms to coo up at him.

“Good.” Boba claps his hands together, the sound a dull thunk compared to the ringing proclamation when he was in his armour. “More Mandalorians arrived last night. We’re going to have a busy day, ne’alor.”

⁂

Din keeps his gaze high as the ocean unfurls beneath him, sunlight reflecting off beskar in every colour imaginable and casting shards of rainbows across the walls. Boba mentioned his childhood infrequently, but Din remembers his description of the predatory fish that would swarm just off of the landing bays on Kamino well — the rows of flashing spines on their backs that would suddenly spark into life as they descended on the meat Boba would throw into the water. 

A cold chill worms down his spine as he shifts and heads turn with him — some bare and the want is splashed across their faces, a light flickering in their eyes while some had kept their helmets on and swayed with him like distorted shadows.

They want a ruler, but Din is only a man.

So, he keeps his gaze high and sways as he stands, the dull ache in his knee radiating up into his hip. Before they started to arrive, drawn by the darksaber like lightning bugs in the dead of night, he would perch on the curved arm of Boba’s throne and feel Boba’s shoulder brush against the small of his back as the other man moved. 

He doesn’t dare show such weakness now. 

There is a brace built into his armour — yet another favour that Boba performed for him as if it was nothing — and Din leans into it, hearing the faint clicks as it curls around the twisted muscle and bone. He feels Boba’s eyes on him, a brush similar to the slide of his fingers across Din’s vambrace some evenings, a silent question and a reminder contained within that small gesture before Boba turns back to his court, cutting off the man babbling in front of him with a wave of his hand. 

Boba’s helmet is resting at the ground by his feet — Grogu sitting next to it with one clawed hand pressed to the metal — so, as the assembled group watches, Boba’s grin curls and sharpens. The man in front of him freezes, his face pale, and Din leans forward despite himself, focusing on the fast pulse of the man’s heart in his throat, waiting for him to run. 

“Should have known that a clone would be so disrespectful.” 

Din twitches, his gaze shifting although he keeps his face turned towards the supplicant and scans the Mandalorians resting to one side. His eyes fall on one in particular, a tall human man with a shocking crop of pale blonde hair that floats around his face as if suspended in water. His gaze was fixed on Boba, acidic with hatred, and his lip was curling at one corner, revealing a small jewel set into a tooth. 

“He’s sitting when his betters are standing.” The sentence isn’t directed at anyone except Boba, the man’s voice pitched too low to carry, but the Mandalorians around him sway as if caught in a breeze, not stepping away or crowding closer, merely waiting and listening.

Rage burns in Din’s stomach, heat rising to his chest where it blooms into a forge. His hand curls into a fist, his knuckles cracking as loud as a blaster shot beneath his beskar, but Boba doesn’t acknowledge it. His gaze remains steady, his head tipping to one side as he continues to speak to the man in front of him, a low growl that normally sends sparks down Din’s spine and kindles the urge to press himself closer and feel the rumble of his words through his chest. 

Boba pauses, and Din can sense the air in the room sharpen, an electricity convalescing as if summoning a lightning storm, but the other man merely shrugs, a faint flicker of movement out of the corner of Din’s eye. Grogu chirps, and Din breaks his study of the younger Mandalorian to turn to the child. 

Grogu’s ears flicker, and he waves a hand at Din, tiny claws unfurled, before tapping on Boba’s knee. Small chips of paint flake away beneath his touch, and Din lets his thoughts spiral for a moment, settling on the slow drag of a paintbrush over treated beskar, the whispering scratch of a nail before the paint dried and the low hum as they worked. He drags them back, a pang of nostalgic grief blooming alongside the bonfire in his chest. 

Boba draws Grogu onto his lap, shifting to settle the child against the curve of his thigh. When he spoke, his voice was low, pitched so only they could hear it. “Oya, ne’ad’ika. Jaster ja’haili.” 

Din feels the world slow around him, the intensity of a firefight paling in comparison as he watches the lines around Boba’s eyes soften, sees the other man glance over at him, a single question on his face, a moment of hesitation. They’d never spoken of anything beyond the immediate, Din unable to say and Boba unwilling to push, but the understanding between them is greater than anything either had experienced before. 

Din nods once, a single jerk of his head, and knows that he would hunt down storm clouds and pluck the twin suns from the sky to keep Boba grinning like he is.

Grogu claps his hands together, the action a mirror of Boba’s habit, dragging Din back into the present, and the child turns to stare up at them both.

“Nicely done, ad’ika. Next. You all heard the kid.”

A small scoff from the scowling Mandalorian to the side draws Din’s gaze back to him, his shoulders curling in preparation of… something. He could taste the anticipation in the air, thick and coppery, reminiscent of blood.

“Why are we letting a bunch of batch scrapings tell us what to do? I mean—“

Din turns to Boba, sees the tight lines around the corners of his mouth, watches as the insult sinks in and catches in the soft undersides of his ribs but turns away. The shield Boba pulls over himself is beskar-made and painted in the same dark green as his armour, an obligation he continues to carry. Why isn’t he defending himself? 

There was something here Din was missing, a gap in his knowledge that he kept circling like a sarlaac pit. It bit at him like a burr that clung to a gap in his armour. A lack of knowledge, a single misstep, would have been enough to get him killed while he ran missions and yet, watching Boba be insulted and do nothing about it, feels worse. 

“You.” Din jabs his hand at the offending Mandalorian, letting the other settle on the hilt of the Darksaber and feels the handle hum beneath his touch. Boba’s breath hitches, and his grip curls a little tighter around Grogu, but he doesn’t stop Din. “Step forward.”

The man does as Din commands, his head raised and a smirk lingering on his face. His armour is clean, unscorched and freshly painted, with stripes of bright crimson running over his chest plate. He settles, not in front of Boba, but in front of Din, his gaze never straying to the throne. 

“Ni sushi ga’ke’gyce.”

“You pledge yourself to my rule? You swore to follow me and my orders?” The ritual words taste sour in Din’s mouth, and the echo of Boba’s pledge rises like a shadow in the edges of his thoughts, simply made and given without hesitation. 

“Yes, Mand’alor.” The man remains still, but there is a note of caution in his words, his gaze twitching slightly as if he was fighting against the urge to glance towards the others, searching for support. 

“You insult the Mandalorian who helped return my son to me. You degrade the king who has given us all sanctuary and safety without asking for anything in return. You cast judgement on a better man than you.”

Boba’s hand curls around Din’s elbow, drawing him back, and Din turns at his urging, his heart beating too fast in his chest. 

Boba’s gaze is steady, but his brow is furrowed. He moves from his customary sprawl and collects his helmet from the floor next to him, holding it next to Grogu. “Are you sure?”

Din moves without thinking, leaning down, his hand splaying on the arm of the throne, to press his forehead to Boba’s. This close, Din can see the shiver that rolls through the other man at the cold touch of beskar, but he leans into it, fighting to keep his eyes open rather than let them fall shut in benedictional delight. Boba’s gaze is dark and locks onto Din’s in the small gap of his visor, and Din can’t help wondering what Boba can see through the tinted material.

It is a moment that Din could stay in forever, but he breaks away sooner than he wants, a fierce blush colouring his cheeks at the involuntary sigh Boba releases as they both straighten. Din turns back to the man, feels the rage reignite in his chest. 

“Get out. Don’t come back before you’ve made amends to Boba. I have spoken.”

The man stumbles, his jaw slack and bright colour high in his cheeks, before he turns and moves, every step disjointed and uneven. His shadow disappears long after his huddled form vanishes down the steps of the palace. 

“Fennec. Can you watch the kid?” Boba’s voice is carefully steady, the voice of a king and Din flushes, the intensity of his actions beginning to dawn on him. He had drawn Boba into kov’nyn, Boba had called Grogu his heir. Unbidden, his wayward thoughts from that morning resurface, traitorous but compelling. 

“Of course.” 

Grogu babbles something, and Din reaches out and brushes a finger over the curve of his ear before Fennec — swinging her rifle onto her back and slipping down from her perch in the same motion — scooped him up. She pauses to assess Grogu before settling him on her hip. 

“Court is over.” Boba doesn’t raise his voice, but it carries, flooding out over the crowd, and they are moving before they understand. “Get out.”

Then they are alone. 

Boba presses himself up and turns, dragging Din sideways in the same motion. His foot curls, hooking behind Din’s ankle and spilling him into the throne Boba had just left. The air rushes from Din’s lungs in a gasp, a dull ache radiating down his spine, but he doesn’t have a second to move when, all predatory grace and harsh lines, Boba crowds him backwards, his hands curled around the arms of the throne. 

Their foreheads brush, not quite a Keldabe, but the shadow of one and Boba rocks back on his heels, his prosthetic catching against the stone floor with a hiss before he settles. “What are you thinking? Got to help me out here, Din.”

Boba’s voice curls around his name, reverent, as if it was precious.

“I can’t read your mind like one of those Jetti. Why did you do that?”

“He was insulting you.”

Boba’s grin sharpens. “Not the first time and won’t be the last. I would have not survived this long if I get worked up over every arsehole who looks down on me because of what I am.

“I’m a clone first and foremost. Even now, people will look at me and think they know who I am. Sometimes they see the armour, but I’m not a Mandalorian the same way you are.

“I’m a bounty hunter second. I’ve done terrible things to get my reputation, and I’ve done great things too. It’s all about the balance and you, kot'hokaan, have just upset that balance by throwing your lot in with me.”

Boba sighs, a rasp catching at the ends of the sound, but he doesn’t move away to get a drink. Instead, he leans closer, peering into Din’s visor and their eyes meet and lock.

“The Mandalorians aren’t here for me. They can barely restrain themselves from tearing my armour from me because they don’t think I’m worthy because they didn’t think my buir was worthy. He was a foundling who was Mand’alor for a time and next to none of those who followed him live.

“They’re here for you.”

“I never asked for it.” Din wants to move and press back against the cage of Boba’s bracketing embrace, wants to stay still and let the other man envelop him. He takes in the crinkles at the corners of Boba’s eyes, watches the way his scars dip and twist over his cheek as he smiles then breaks into a laugh.

“That makes you the most suited for the job.”

Boba knocks his knuckles against the hilt of the saber, and Din can feel the answering vibration in his teeth, a purr of contentment emanating from the weapon. 

“Why wouldn’t I choose you?” Din circles back, sees confusion flicker across Boba’s face, and the other man straightens slightly, tipping his head to one side. “You’ve done so much for me, for Grogu, and I can’t even begin to repay you—“

“I’d swore to return your child to you as repayment for my armour. I don’t pledge my word lightly, and you don’t have to repay me. I owe you everything.”

“You owe me nothing. I wanted to help. What he was saying… it was hutyc. But why didn’t you say something?”

“They’re here for you.” Boba’s gaze bores into Din as inescapable as a black hole. “If you remain at my side, you’ll be dragged down with me.”

“And if I want that?”

Boba stood, towering over Din. He isn’t a tall man, but the way he carries himself is powerful, a confidence that fills the room, and Din raises his chin in defiance of it. He won’t be swayed from this, can’t retreat now that he has dragged the thought out into the light.

“I need to punch something,” Boba said. “Fancy a spar?”

Din laughs, nods and lets Boba pull him onto his feet. Boba hesitates for only a moment before his arm curls around Din’s waist, his thumb smoothing over the curve of his armour.

“You’re infuriating,” Boba says, stretching up with his free hand to draw Din down, pressing their foreheads together once more. “But I guess I’m stuck with you now.”

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Din promises. He keeps the vow carefully locked behind his teeth, but, as Boba laughs, helpless tremors that reverberate through Din, he can hear the echo of them in his words. 

It was enough. It was more than he ever expected. It was more than either of them had ever expected. 

Boba’s fingers loop through his as they walk, and Din squeezes them tightly, feeling the answering pressure, and knows that he has made the right choice and the only choice he could have.

Translations

Ad = child

bero’ika = little bounty

Buir = parent

Beroya = bounty hunter

Ne’alor = my King/leader

mhi ba'juri verde = we will raise warriors (part of the Mandalorian marriage vows)

Oya, ad’ika. Jaster ja’haili = Let’s go, my little one. Jaster watch over you.”

Ni sushi ga’ke’gyce. = I listen to your orders

kot'hokaan = axe (affectionate)

Hutyc = cowardly

[venhedish]

Ven’s Masterlist of SPN Fic

I write mostly pre-series and early seasons Big Feels™ Wincest fic. There’s a lot of angst and pining here, but plenty of love and devotion mixed in with the darkness.

I always deeply, deeply appreciate likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs!

Wincest Fic

Stand-Alone

Yesterday is a Ghost I Believe In ~4.1k, Teen, Pre-series, Epistolary, Multimedia, Experimental There's an old shoebox under Sam Winchester's bed. It's been there almost as long as he can remember. He doesn't look inside it very often, but when he does, he takes his time. A multimedia collection of letters, journal entries, pictures, and other ephemera from a life on the road. .

That Monster, Love ~2k, Teen, Pre-series, POV Outsider, POV John Winchester, John Finds Out, Angst “You think you’re doing your boys any favors, raisin’ ‘em like this?” .

To Cure My Lonesome Blood ~8.8k, Explicit, Pre-series, Pining Dean, Angst, Bittersweet Ending Dean’s been sick since before either of them was born. The disease is incurable, written into his blood – the same blood he shares with his brother. If he’s not careful, the fever will spread like a fire and consume them both. .

Like Sand, Like Water, Like Sunlight ~1.7k, Gen, Pre-series, Mutual Pining, Angst, Pre-Slash Sea birds circle overhead and Dean wishes he had a camera. Sam looks so young, all of twelve years old, and exhilarated. Dean wants to hold this image in the chambers of his heart, but his pulse just carries it along; time is cruel that way. .

The Space Between Sense and Memory ~4.8k, Teen, Pre-series through Season 1, 5-and-1 Things There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t. .

Every Goodbye, all at Once ~900, Teen, Pre-series, Stanford Era, Pining Dean, Angst, Epistolary "Hey, It's Sam. If you're looking for my dad, you can reach him at 866-555-9352. If you're looking for me, leave a message." A series of voicemails Dean leaves at the number Sam left behind. .

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) ~6k, Explicit, Season 01, PWP, Scent Kink, Guilty Dean Winchester Once Sam was gone, Dean missed him in a way that was all-consuming, all the way down – so deep in his bones that he shook with loneliness some nights. And it was the familiar scent of his brother’s hair where it tangled warm against the pillows, his pulse beating under his skin and sending the fear of the hunt wafting off of him in waves that Dean struggled to hold onto the hardest. Dean really likes the way Sam smells..  .

Dawn is Coming (Open Your Eyes) ~5k, Explicit, Season 01, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together In which Sam and Dean suffer new wounds and stitch old ones back together. There’s an awful storm, a dead monster, an injury, and a whole lot of feelings. .

You put the Magic in Me ~9.1k, Explicit, Season 02(ish), Sex Pollen, Porn with Plot, Casefic “This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done for a case,” Dean says under his breath, leaning into Sam and scouting the crowd gathered around a dozen tables inside the little café. “Dude, relax,” Sam says back, eyebrows raising at his brother’s nervous energy. “I thought this would be, like, your thing.” He gestures vaguely to the women milling around inside. A long, vividly red banner hangs across the open french doors that lead into the space, emblazoned with the words The Oolong Tea Room Presents: Lonely Hearts Club Speed Dating! Feb 11-14th! Or; in which Sam and Dean learn a thing or two about chemistry. .

The Stars are not Wanted Now ~2k, Teen, Season 02, Episode Tag: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Angst, Death Rituals There was a body on the bed.  It had been there long enough that the slanting light of morning crept into the room like an unwelcome invader and washed the world in a dream-shade of palest blue.   But there were no dreams here; only death, only memory. The body on the bed was all that remained of Samuel Winchester, who had died in his brother’s arms the night before. .

Demi-Gods and Hungry Ghosts ~5.8k, Explicit, Season 03, Episode Tag: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Dark, Dub-con, Hurt No Comfort This dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day—if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all—what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out?  .

In Sanguine Vita Est   ~5.2k, Explicit, Season 04, Knifeplay, Dean’s Hell Trauma, Hurt/Comfort Everything was different now. Dean was here—back from the fucking dead—but he was a stranger in his own body. Scars gone, aches from broken bones that hadn’t set right vanished back into the void as if they’d never existed at all. He’d become a stranger to the whole world. He’d become a stranger to Sam. _ Dean asks Sam to help him heal after he returns from Hell. .

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness ~5.7k, Explicit, Season 06, Episode Tag: s06e06 You Can’t Handle the Truth, POV Outsider, Angst, Soulless Sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. .

The Rungs of Me be Under You ~1.6k, Teen, Gencest, Post-Bunker, 2nd Person POV, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Non-Sexual Kink What they share has never been easy to define. Why should this be any different?  .

Wincest Series The Top/Bottom Discourse Series (Ongoing) [Each story is canon compliant and listed chronologically, but they can all be read as standalone works.] This series was born originally from a silly meta post I made on Tumblr as a response to some very angry top/bottom discourse I was seeing about how only Sam could truly be A Top™, or how only Dean could truly be A Top™. I personally like to kink and let kink and not drag outdated gender politics into my fandom (Dean can't be a bottom because he's too masculine? Ice cold take, bro), so I wrote a filthy little tongue-in-cheek post about all the ways I think Sam and Dean have fucked each other over the years.

 I’m Thinking About Whatever You’re Thinking About ~5.1k, Explicit, Pre-series, PWP, Bratty Sam, Exhibitionism, Fear of Discovery Sam is such a brat, sometimes. .

 Shoot to Thrill ~6.7k, Explicit, Season 02, Porn with Plot, Hustling, Getting Back Together It's just like riding a bike. .

Burn Out The Night ~4.9k, Explicit, Season 08, Porn with Plot, Car Sex, Light BDSM, Fluff What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. .

Destiel Fic

Love Made a Martyr of Me ~500, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Past Sam/Dean, Angst Sam says yes in Detroit, and in the space of a single syllable, there's nothing left in Heaven or on Earth for Dean to love. Cas doesn't seem to care. .

The Sharp Teeth of the One You Love ~2k, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining “Quit bein’ a baby, Cas.” Dean’s hands were covered in blood, but they were steady as always while he worked to stitch Castiel back together. “I’m sorry,” Cas growled between gritted teeth. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience feeling pain.” He hissed again when Dean slid the curved needle back through the eight-inch-long gash that ran deep and bloody down Cas’s bicep. Castiel learns something about what it means to be human. .

Wincestiel Fic

Temerate ~700, Teen, Season 05(ish), Past Sam/Dean, 2nd Person POV, First Time Your brother is sitting in the corner of the motel room. His big hands are worrying at each other; he squeezes them together, fingertips white from the pressure of his grip. He meets your eyes and his gaze is like a lightning strike. .

Dean/John Fic

Cruore ~1.1k, Mature, Pre-series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood, Intrusive Thoughts Bites, Dean could deal with – claw marks and broken bones. But this- ... a bullet was a different kind of monster altogether. .

Supernatural RPF

Il Cielo in Una Stanza ~4.4k, Explicit, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Getting Back Together, Prequel-Gate, Polyamory, Non-AU Jared Padalecki receives a present he wasn't expecting at all for his 39th birthday. . 

Other Supernatural Fic

Bad Things, Better Reasons ~2k, Explicit, Pre-series, Dean Does Sex Work, Angst, Brotherly Love. Dean does whatever it takes to keep the bills paid while John is gone. The kid waiting for him back at the motel room is all the justification he’ll ever need. .

No Was Her Name ~1.3k, Teen, Season 12, Dean/Mary, Light Angst, First Kiss Mary Winchester was alive. She was solid—made of skin and blood and bone—and she existed in the same world as Dean. It wasn’t a dream; she walked and talked and breathed. She ate, she slept, she wandered the halls of the bunker at odd hours. She was a ghost made flesh, and Dean was haunted by her presence. .

[curiousquirks]

SCP-8333 | Rikiya Katsukame

MASTER LIST

Content Warning: Bear?

== LEVEL 3 CLEARANCE REQUIRED ==

Access Granted

SCP-8333

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Item #: SCP-8333

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8333 is to be kept in a 27sqm containment chamber with walls reaching at least 8m in height. The containment is environmentally regulated and fitted with reinforced concrete, the interior of which is painted to mimic the wilderness. It is also to be equipped with Class-A reinforced glass viewing windows. The containment’s door and viewing windows are to be equipped with emergency electrified security mesh capable of producing at least 6,000 volts.

The subject's containment is to be equipped with speciality made LED equipment to produce artificial sunlight. The subject is allowed grass and trees such as the artificially and genetically modified large Cryptomeria Japonica (Japanese Cedar) and Chamaecyaris Obtusa (Japanese Cypress) in the containment area. Personnel (D-Class) are required to maintain routine maintenance on all plant life growing in the subject’s containment.  

To allow easier access for communication SCP-8333 is granted access to multiple labeled buttons placed on the ground that are equipped with pre-recorded sounds of the basic hiragana lettering system to allow for the subject to freely express thoughts, as well as pre-recorded voice lines:

“Yes”

“No”

“Hello”

“Goodbye”

“Hungry”

“Tired”

“Angry”

“Sad”

“Happy”

“Sick”

“Thank You”

“Doctor”

In light of incident 8333.1 and Addendum 8333-03: Multiple appropriately sized containers are to be placed into the subject's containment. No personnel are to attempt to remove the container placed on SCP-8333’s head. There’s nothing under the container and any personnel that attempt to remove the object are forced to endure whatever hell SCP-8333 subjects them to. 

[Hastily scribbled on the page is the following]

DO NOT ATTEMPT TO REMOVE THE BUCKET FROM SCP-8333’S HEAD

Description: SCP-8333 is an anomalous member of the Ursus thibetanus (Asian black bear) family, wearing a bucket that covers its face. The subject exhibits some abnormalities that sets it apart from resembling that of a non-anomalous black bear: 

Weights roughly 220kg

Grossly enlarged muscle mass three (3) times that of standard black bear with the ability to move objects over 450kgs with a single paw

Ability to run up to 80kph

Bite Force of over 1000 psi

Ability to see surroundings effectively despite its face being covered

It appears to have a heightened sense of intelligence with the ability to follow commands given to it without training, memorize patterns and locations, and understanding human speech. It displays similar behavior to non-anomalous bears, subsisting on a diet of fish, scavenged or hunted game animals, and vegetation, and hibernates during winter months. SCP-8333’s diet should be similar to that of a non-anomalous black bear. 

Following incident 8333.2, the subject appears to be easily depressed and will often use the buttons in its enclosure to say “Sad” followed by “Doctor REDACTED”. No personnel are to mention anything involving SCP-8320-1, formerly known as Dr. REDACTED, to the subject. SCP-8333 can be easily distracted with the introduction of rubber bouncy balls, which should be used if the subject refuses to move for more than two (2) hours. 

Addendum 8333-01: Discovery

Subject was located ████/██/██ by █████ ██████ after encountering SCP-8333 in the forest located in ██████. They had taken a shaky video of the subject and posted it online where it became viral as a cryptozoology example. Following the success of the video, multiple people had discovered the location, due to confirmation by the original poster, and had traveled out to collect more evidence of the subject. Investigators had managed to locate SCP-8333 before the lives of the civilians investigating the subject had been put in danger. After SCP-8333 was taken into containment, appropriate personnel had made sure that it appeared like a fabricated video and nothing more than a strange non-anomalous black bear. 

Addendum 8333-02: Interview Log #002

DATE: ████/██/██

INTERVIEWER: Dr. Chisaki

SUBJECT: 8333

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Chisaki: (gestures to the buttons on the ground) These are to help you communicate since you are able to understand human speech. Give it a try.

SCP-8333 walks over and presses each button before looking at Dr. Chisaki.

Dr. Chisaki: Can you read the labels?

SCP-8333: “No”

Dr. Chisaki: Best to familiarize yourself with the location of each button then to make it easier to communicate with us. 

SCP-8333: “Thank you, Doctor”

[END LOG]

Addendum 8333-03: Notes regarding the subject

The bucket placed on SCP-8333’s head seemed to be done on purpose by the subject. SCP-8333 will remove the bucket to eat but will face away from personnel or the camera recording devices. Any personnel that try to move towards the subject with the expressed purpose being to remove the object, SCP-8333 immediately becomes hostile. Other objects have been placed in SCP-8333’s containment and it appears that the subject will trade out its bucket for one of the other objects but it seems to have a preference for the bucket. 

Addendum 8333-04: ████/██/██ Incident

Incident Report 8333.1

DATE: ████/██/██

LOCATION: [DATA EXPUNGED]

MTF Sigma-10 (“Vanguard”) was alerted to SCP-8333’s containment after two (2) D-Class personnel were killed after being sent in for a scheduled feeding. Lead Researcher ██████ had requested that one (1) of the D-Class personnel attempt to ask SCP-8333 if they could remove the bucket for the subject. SCP-8333 shook its head and D-█████ had then attempted to remove the bucket by force. This enraged SCP-8333 who easily and quickly killed both D-Class personnel. SCP-8333 had walked over to its set of buttons and pressed “No” repeatedly before pressing out buttons to say “Won’t hurt any people if they don’t touch” and remained in the farthest corner away from the door. MTF members declared this to require none of their services and left SCP-8333 alone, with appropriate personnel called in to clean up the remaining mess left behind. 

Addendum 8333-05: Interview Log #003

DATE: ████/██/██

INTERVIEWER: Dr. Chisaki

SUBJECT: 8333

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Chisaki: Now that you have effectively communicated with personnel for a day on what you wanted to eat, I think it’s safe to say that you know how to use the buttons.

SCP-8333 nods its head, the bucket placed over its face and was noted to not move despite gravity that should be affecting it.

SCP-8333: “Thank you, Doctor”

Dr. Chisaki: You’re welcome but I did have a request for you today.

SCP-8333: “Pain”

Dr. Chisaki: No pain. I want to know why you refuse to let personnel remove the bucket on your head. You seem to remove it to eat and place it back on. You hide your face. Why is that?

SCP-8333: “No see”

Dr. Chisaki: Is it dangerous?

SCP-8333: “No see”

SCP-8333 looks towards Dr. Chisaki before lifting a paw to point towards him before pointing at the bucket on its head.

SCP-8333: “Send people to take”

Dr. Chisaki: The D-Class that attempted to take the bucket off of your head were under orders from Lead Researcher ██████, not me.

SCP-8333: “Doctor no tell people to take Doctor good”

Dr. Chisaki: I will tell Lead Researcher ██████ that they’re no longer allowed to make any attempts to have it removed.

SCP-8333: “Thank you”

[END LOG]

Addendum 8333-06: Interview Log #008

DATE: ████/██/██

INTERVIEWER: Dr. Chisaki

SUBJECT: 8333

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Chisaki: I heard from the personnel that you requested for me?

SCP-8333: “Yes” (pats ground with paw) “Doctor Chisaki”

Dr. Chisaki: Alright, did you have a question for me?

SCP-8333: “People ask about” (uses paw to point at bucket) “Only Doctor Chisaki can”

Dr. Chisaki: You’ll allow me to remove the bucket?

SCP-8333: “Yes Only short time”

Dr. Chisaki: Temporarily? Of course. I know it’s comforting to you. 

SCP-8333: “Yes”

Dr. Chisaki: Can I do it now? I’ll make sure no one else can see.

SCP-8333: “Yes”

Dr. Chisaki moves closer to SCP-8333 after having turned the subject away from other personnel viewing as well as any cameras. Dr. Chisaki slowly removes the bucket off of SCP-8333, his eyes go blank. SCP-8333 puts the bucket back onto its own head and Dr. Chisaki appears to regain composure.

[End Log]

Addendum 8333-06: Notes concerning Interview Log #008

Following Dr. Chisaki’s interview with SCP-8333, he had left the containment and seemed out of character. When confronted by personnel, including Lead Researcher ██████ on what he saw he only responded with “No.” After roughly one (1) hour he was able to return back to normal but everytime someone brought up what he saw regarding SCP-8333’s face, he only responded with “No.” Dr. Chisaki had requested access to SCP-8333’s file where he made additions to warn all personnel not to remove any object on SCP-8333’s head covering its face.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING SECTION IS LEVEL 5/8333 CLASSIFIED

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

ANY ATTEMPT TO ACCESS THIS SECTION WITHOUT LEVEL 5/8333 AUTHORIZATION WILL BE LOGGED AND WILL LEAD TO IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

== LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE REQUIRED ==

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Access Granted

Addendum 8333-07: ████/██/██ Incident

Incident Report 8333.2

DATE: ████/██/██

LOCATION: [DATA EXPUNGED]

MTF Sigma-10 (“Vanguard”) was alerted to a casualty event, centering on SCP-8320’s enclosure that led into a mass breakout of multiple SCPs led by SCP-8320-1. SCP-8333 was the second SCP released by SCP-8320-1 and was the accomplice to multiple other enclosures being opened throughout the incident. It was noted that SCP-8333 was violently loyal to SCP-8320-1 and attempted to kill any MTF members trying to subdue them. It is believed that because of SCP-8333’s positive interactions with SCP-8320-1’s former self, Dr. Chisaki, that the subject had felt the need to protect and serve them.  

SCP-8333 was responsible for the murder of ten (10) MTF members, over twenty-five (25) D-Class personnel, as well as Lead Researcher ██████ (who worked on SCP-8333) during this incident. The subject was able to be heavily sedated once discovered, which helped MTF members in the capture of SCP-8320-1. SCP-8333 was able to be successfully recontained after its enclosure was repaired.