#being normal about fern again

[theposeknowsart]

April 19th, 2024: Just a (mushroom) boy in the rain.

Not necessary to enjoy the image, but this is the exact moment before infected but funky TLOU Fern (TMushroom!Fern)goes absolutely hog wild for Finn-cakes the gang accidentally left in the woods.

Finn unknowingly leading Fern to their house like a feral animal with a trail of treats left abandoned in the woods. Might have to write a fic about it lol

[rmbunnie]

Watched through adventure time start to finish for the first time and of course it was great and of course I'm going to be drawing fanart at some point in the not-distant future (can't say near tho lmao school is keeping me busy) but my god the finale. I already knew the plot points tbh because i Am Online and Like Cartoons and if both of those things are things you are, you see the bubbline kiss and Finn saying "I always thought i'd go out a hero" and that's pretty much unavoidable, but what really got me was Time Adventure.

I saw someone on Twitter or something, maybe on here, say that the antagonist of Adventure Time is personal stagnation, and it was a comeback to someone else, but it really is true that from season 7 on the show starts leaning Realllllly hard into Growth as the topic the show's about (and season 7 is like. a pretty noticeable line for this switch tbh, NOT that the first 6 seasons are unimportant to the final end point, but the change is visible.) This is especially clear seeing as Gumbald and Fern, who refuse to accept growth and change to a unique extent, and are incapable of personal growth due to being an outgrown past version of the mc held that way indefinitely by a grass curse, respectively, are the main antagonistic forces of the final season. (Betty also counts as both an antagonistic force in the finale and unable to accept growth to me seeing as she was the reason Golb was summoned and, I mean, Temple of Mars is ABOUT her being unable to grow on an internal-beliefs level despite accepting the magic of the future as an external tool, so that checks both boxes, but i'm not sure of the overall Betty opinion and also she isn't the main point.) What I'm getting at is, with the major emphasis on changing as an individual, Time Adventure is especially poignant to me, because outside of being a (still very good) meta song about the show ending, in the context of the show it reads as a song about how sad growing as a person is when you're the person who's changing, and how it would be great if you could just. always be a 12 year old kid in the first season who doesn't understand that there are problems that can't be solved and fights you can't win, who can always go back to his treehouse at the end of the day. And how with the passage of time, it's inevitable to change, but at least that kid is and will forever be in season 1, even as the only physical version of himself from the past blows away in the wind as he asks to go back to a place that's now rubble. This isn't exactly breaking news but still, in a show that leans so hard into the way maturing means changing as a person the final message being "it's hard to be a new person and lots of things ARE lost forever but all past versions of you that you can no longer be exist in the past and aren't going anywhere" instead of like, "woohoo! Maturing is neat! Look at how much everything has improved!" is really good. Idk it just kinda means more really knowing that they're sad about the change.

[izumkay]

"CAUGHT, KEPT, CRAVED" |Ch-1|

❥Pairing- Hunter!Satoru × Fairy!Reader

❥Synposis- Satoru Gojo never believed in fairy tales—until he found one standing right in front of him. A real, flesh-and-blood fairy, in his forest. He should’ve been concerned, maybe even terrified, but mostly? He was just shocked as hell.

Fairies weren’t real. They belonged in bedtime stories, not in the middle of his hunt, staring at him like he was the strange one. And yet, days passed, and she didn’t vanish like a dream. Instead, she became something else entirely—something dangerous, something forbidden. Keeping her close is reckless. Letting her go? Impossible.

❥Gerne/theme- MDNI. Explicit sexual content, lot of sexual tension, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, forbidden love, fantasy AU, fire, abuse, possessiveness, SA attempts, longing, sacrifices, reunion, seperation, fluff too <3

→ WC- 10k

Satoru Gojo grumbled as he trudged through the dense forest, the heavy weight of his bow hanging against his back. The sun was high, casting harsh beams that barely broke through the thick canopy above, and yet, he still had to hunt. Of course, a hunter couldn’t survive without a kill, but he couldn’t help but feel frustrated.

Why did he always have to do this? It wasn’t like he needed the money that much—he lived alone, away from the cities, far from any expectations. His lifestyle was simple, and really, the whole hunting thing felt more like a chore than a necessity. But it was for his living, so here he was, walking through the damn forest again, tracking some monster or wild animal for dinner.

“I swear, if I see one more damn deer today—” he whined under his breath, kicking a stray branch out of his path. “I’ll—”

His words caught in his throat as he paused, his eyes narrowing at the sudden shift in the air around him. It wasn’t the normal breeze that rustled the leaves; no, this felt… different. Almost alive, as if the very forest itself was holding its breath.

He shook his head, chuckling bitterly at himself.

It’s just the wind, he told himself, moving forward again. But the deeper he ventured into the woods, the more uneasy he felt. Something was off. Something was watching him.

And when a faint, almost ethereal sound drifted through the trees—too soft to be an animal, too melodic to be anything but strange—he froze.

His instincts kicked in, the trained hunter in him waking up. The forest was quiet now. Too quiet.

“What the hell?” he muttered, his hand instinctively reaching for his bow, his eyes scanning the shadows.

Nothing.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to shake off the feeling. There was no way—he couldn’t afford to let his mind wander. Yet the sensation of being observed was growing stronger with every step. His pulse quickened, but instead of fear, there was an odd sense of curiosity—a pull, something he couldn’t explain.

With a quick exhale, he adjusted his grip on the bow and moved deeper into the forest, determined to uncover what was hiding in the shadows.

As he ventured deeper into the woods, a sudden loud thud echoed through the trees, followed by the unmistakable sound of something—or someone—crashing through the underbrush. Gojo’s eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at his lips. Finally, some action.

He crept toward the source of the noise, his footsteps silent on the forest floor. As he approached, he spotted a foot sticking out from behind a large fern. He bit his tongue to suppress a chuckle. Whoever this was, they were about to get an earful.

Stepping closer, he peered around the fern to find a young woman sprawled on the ground, her wings—yes, wings—splayed out awkwardly beside her. She had a few branches and leaves tangled in her hair, and dirt smudged her cheeks. She looked up, eyes wide with surprise, and they both froze.

For a moment, neither moved. Then, in unison, they both screamed.

"AHHHH!"

Gojo stumbled back, nearly dropping his bow. "What the—?"

The woman scrambled to her feet, brushing off leaves and dirt. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Gojo blinked, still processing the sight before him. "I... I should be asking you that. What are you doing in my forest?"

She crossed her arms, her wings fluttering slightly. "Your forest? This is a public forest!"

"Not anymore," he retorted, smirk returning. "I just claimed it."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical. Another human thinking they own everything."

"Hey, I was here first," he shot back. "And last time I checked, humans were the dominant species around here."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Because last time I checked, humans were the ones who needed to be saved from themselves."

Gojo chuckled. "Touché. But seriously, what are you? Some kind of... fairy?"

She huffed, wings twitching slightly. "Yes. I am. And for the record, not all fairies are tiny and delicate. Some of us can hold our own."

Gojo stared at her for a solid few seconds before scoffing. "Yeah, okay. Sure. And I’m a royal prince."

She frowned. "What?"

"Come on," he waved a hand at her wings. "Fairies aren’t real. You can just admit it now before this gets embarrassing."

Her glare sharpened. "I am a fairy."

Gojo crossed his arms. "No, you’re not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you’re not."

She exhaled sharply. "Why is this so hard for you to believe?"

Gojo threw up his hands. "Because fairies belong in bedtime stories! Magic, wings, flying around all sparkly—yeah, it’s cute for kids, but in real life? People don’t just have wings."

She rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"No, I’m just sane," he shot back. Then, his gaze flickered back to her wings, still skeptical. "What even are those? You make them yourself? They’re kinda impressive, I’ll give you that."

She twitched. "They’re real."

"Right, sure." His smirk deepened as he stepped closer. "Bet they’re just attached to your clothes or something—"

Before he could finish, his hand reached out, fingers just barely grazing the edge of her wing—

SMACK!

"Ow!" Gojo yelped, stumbling back as she slapped his hand away with a force he definitely wasn’t expecting.

"I told you not to touch them!" she yelled, wings flaring wide.

Gojo clutched his hand, eyes wide. "What the hell?! That actually hurt!"

"It was supposed to!" she snapped, her face burning with irritation. "Do you go around grabbing random people's limbs too?"

Gojo blinked, still holding his hand. "Well... I mean, if I thought they were fake, yeah."

She groaned, shoving past him. "Unbelievable. I don’t have time for this."

"Whoa, whoa, wait!" He quickly stepped in front of her, arms outstretched. "Alright, let’s just—wait a second." His blue eyes studied her, skeptical yet intrigued. "So you’re really trying to convince me that you’re some mystical, magical creature, huh?"

She folded her arms. "I’m not trying to convince you. I am one."

Gojo tapped his chin. "Mmm. Nope. Still don’t buy it."

She scowled. "You just saw my wings!"

"Yeah, and I’ve also seen some very good costumes."

Her eye twitched. "I flew before I fell!"

"And I’ve seen people jump off roofs and think they’re flying."

She let out a long, slow exhale, visibly restraining herself from strangling him. "You're insufferable."

Gojo grinned. "So I’ve been told."

Silence hung between them, thick with tension. She was clearly done with him. He was clearly entertained by her frustration. And yet, neither of them moved.

The forest had gone eerily quiet. The wind barely rustled the leaves. It was as if the world itself was waiting to see what happened next.

Finally, Gojo spoke. "Alright, fine—I’ll play along. So, fairy girl, if you’re real... prove it."

She narrowed her eyes, a slow, knowing smirk creeping onto her face. "Oh, you’ll regret saying that."

Gojo raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m shaking.”

Without another word, she stepped back, rolling her shoulders as her wings stretched to their full span. The soft glow of the setting sun caught on them, illuminating the delicate but powerful structure. Gojo barely had time to process the sight before—

Whoosh.

She launched herself into the air, wings beating with precise, controlled movements. Leaves and dust swirled around as she hovered effortlessly above him, the wind from her wings rustling his hair.

Gojo’s smirk faltered.

His brain short-circuited for a second.

She… flew.

Not jumped. Not swung from a branch. Not some elaborate trick of wires or illusions. No, she lifted clean off the ground, rising higher and higher with each beat of her wings.

“What.” His voice came out flat, his head tilting back as he followed her ascent.

She did a slow, mocking circle above him before descending just a few feet in front of his face, her arms crossed and a smug look plastered on her face.

"Still fake?" she taunted.

Gojo blinked. "Okay. Hold on. Wait a damn minute."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, what now? Are you going to say I’m on some invisible ropes? A hallucination, maybe?"

Gojo rubbed his temples. "I'm the hallucination at this point. This—this doesn’t happen. People don’t just—fly.”

"Well, good thing I’m not people," she shot back. "Say it. Fairies are real."

Gojo pointed at her. "You have to be messing with me."

She hovered a little closer. "Say. It."

Gojo squinted at her. Then at the wings. Then at her feet. Then back at the wings. Then—

"…Nah," he said, shaking his head.

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?!"

"You’re still messing with me," he said firmly, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. “This is—this is a trick. Maybe some weird physics thing I never learned. Or—or maybe I’m dehydrated. Yeah. Maybe I hit my head. That would explain why I’m seeing some girl floatin’ in front of me with—”

She sighed deeply before flapping her wings hard, sending a burst of wind directly into his face.

"—AGH, shit!" He stumbled back, hands shielding his face from the sudden gust.

She landed smoothly in front of him, looking pleased with herself. "Convinced now?"

Gojo, hair now an absolute mess, slowly lowered his hands. His expression was unreadable as he stared at her, the gears in his head practically screaming as they tried to process the impossible.

Then, finally—

“…Okay, so let’s pretend for a second,” he began, still skeptical but clearly shaken, “that you are some kind of fairy.”

She groaned. "Oh my god."

"Hey, I’m getting there!" He waved a hand. "It’s just—you can’t expect me to accept that just like that. Fairies aren’t supposed to be real. They’re myths. Fantasy stuff! Kids’ stories! You can’t just—just exist like this!"

"And yet, here I am," she deadpanned.

Gojo dragged a hand down his face. “You see why this is a lot to take in, right?”

"Oh, I do. You’re just painfully slow."

"Excuse you—"

"How about this?" She stepped forward, tilting her head. "Instead of standing here having an existential crisis, you start believing what’s right in front of you?"

Gojo inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and nodded. “Okay.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yes. Okay. I’m… open to considering the possibility that maybe—just maybe—you are not, in fact, a very dedicated prankster.”

She rolled her eyes. "Close enough."

Another pause. Gojo ran a hand through his hair, still visibly shaken.

“…So, uh,” he started, “if fairies are real, does that mean, like… elves are real, too? Or, like, dragons?”

She sighed. “Oh boy.”

Gojo stared at her for a long moment, his hands on his hips, lips pressed together like he was really trying to process what just happened. Then, with a deep sigh, he finally spoke.

"Okay. Fine," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "Maybe—maybe—you're actually a fairy."

She crossed her arms. "Wow. That must have hurt to admit."

Gojo shot her a look. "Yeah, yeah, don’t get too excited. But seriously—how? How is this even possible?" He gestured at her wings like they personally offended him. "People don’t just have these! There’s gotta be some explanation. Science? Magic? Divine intervention? Hell, did I eat something weird this morning?"

She just blinked at him.

Gojo stared back.

More silence.

Finally, she sighed and turned on her heel. "Yeah, nope. Not explaining anything to someone this stupid."

Gojo gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. "Hey! First of all—rude. Second of all—I think I deserve some kind of answer here!"

"You think?" she scoffed, already walking away. "I don't owe you anything."

"You literally just fell out of the sky in front of me, flapped your little wings, and sent my entire worldview into flames!" Gojo threw his arms up. "The least you could do is tell me how!"

She ignored him, stepping over some fallen branches. "Not my problem."

Gojo groaned, dragging a hand down his face before quickly following after her. "Oh, come on. Just a little hint? A tiny fairy secret? A—hey, wait up!"

She didn't wait.

Gojo let out an exasperated huff. "Unbelievable. First, I find out fairies are real, and now, apparently, they’re jerks, too."

She smirked but didn't turn around. "Took you long enough to figure that one out."

Gojo huffed as he followed after her, stepping over roots and crunching leaves underfoot. “You know, if you’re gonna crash-land in front of me, the least you could do is answer a few simple questions.”

She didn’t even look back. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Wow. The attitude.” Gojo scoffed, quickening his pace to walk beside her. “You’re seriously not gonna explain anything? Nothing at all? Not even a tiny little—”

“Nope.”

He blinked. “Not even like, ‘Oh, Gojo, I’m actually from a magical fairy kingdom, and I fell out of the sky because an evil wizard cursed me’?”

She gave him a look. “Do I look cursed to you?”

Gojo looked her up and down, taking in the dirt, leaves, and general mess she had become from falling. “Honestly? A little bit.”

Her eye twitched. "I swear, you're the most annoying human I've ever met."

Gojo grinned. “You’ve met a lot of humans, then? Or am I just special?”

"You're something," she muttered under her breath, shoving a branch out of her way as she walked faster.

Gojo followed easily. “Oh, come on. I get nothing? No tragic backstory? No mysterious quest? No ‘I’m the lost princess of the fairy realm’?”

“Keep guessing,” she said dryly.

Gojo groaned dramatically. “Unbelievable. I stumble across a real-life fairy, and she won’t even tell me how she exists.”

She suddenly stopped walking, spinning on her heel so fast that Gojo barely avoided bumping into her. She looked up at him, unimpressed. “Let me make this very clear, human—I don’t have to tell you anything. Not to someone as stupid as you.”

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest like she had physically wounded him. “Stupid?! Me?! I’ll have you know I’m very intelligent.”

“Oh, really?” she deadpanned. “Because a very intelligent person would’ve accepted reality by now instead of standing here whining like a child.”

Gojo pouted. “I’m not whining.”

“You are whining.”

Gojo scoffed. “I am not—”

“You are.”

“I am not—”

She sighed, turning back around and walking again. “I don’t have time for this.”

Gojo followed instantly. “You keep saying that, but you don’t seem to be going anywhere important.”

She ignored him.

Gojo smirked. “You do know where you’re going, right?”

Silence.

Gojo blinked. “Wait… do you not know?”

More silence.

Gojo grinned. “Ohhh, you don’t, do you?”

She exhaled slowly. "Shut. Up."

Gojo chuckled, hands behind his head as he walked beside her. “So what I’m hearing is—you’re lost.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Right, right. You just don’t know where you’re going. Totally different.”

She clenched her jaw, clearly regretting every life decision that led her to this moment.

Gojo leaned down slightly, tilting his head to look at her face. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. I get it. You fell out of the sky, got dirt in your hair, met a very handsome stranger—”

She shot him a glare so sharp he actually paused.

“…Right. Moving on.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. Lucky for you, I know this forest like the back of my hand.”

She snorted. “Oh, great. That makes one of us.”

Gojo smirked. “So, that means you do need my help.”

She looked up at the sky, as if praying for patience. “I never said that.”

Gojo’s grin widened. “You didn’t have to.”

She groaned, rubbing her temple. "I swear, if you don't shut up—"

"—You'll what?" Gojo cut in, completely unfazed. "Hit me again? Because, honestly, I think you just wanted an excuse to touch me the first time."

Her wings flared as she turned sharply. "I will throw you into a tree."

Gojo held up his hands, laughing. “Alright, alright, no need for violence, fairy girl.”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t call me that.”

Gojo smirked. “Not a fan of nicknames? What about wings? Feathers? Angry little—”

She glared at him for another second before rolling her eyes and turning back around. “You’re so lucky I have better things to do than argue with you.”

Gojo hummed. “Mm. Seems like you’re still here, though.”

She clenched her fists, muttering something under her breath about insufferable humans.

She walked in silence for a while, probably hoping Gojo would get bored and leave her alone. That was adorable. Like he was the kind of guy to walk away from something this interesting.

After a few minutes, she finally sighed and turned to look at him. “Alright, human—what are you even doing here?”

Gojo blinked. “Huh? Oh. Hunting, obviously.”

After a moment, he tilted his head. “So… how long have you been coming here?”

She eyed him warily. “Why do you care?”

Gojo shrugged. “Curiosity. Humor me.”

She exhaled sharply, clearly debating whether answering him was even worth her time. Finally, she muttered, “Years.”

Gojo blinked. “Years?”

She shot him a look. “Yes. Why?”

Gojo gestured around dramatically. “Because I’ve been hunting here for a long time, too, and I’ve never seen you before.”

She rolled her eyes. “Clearly.”

Gojo narrowed his eyes. “So where’ve you been hiding, huh? Are you some kind of stealth fairy?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “No, you idiot. I come at night.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. “At night?”

She nodded. “It’s quieter. No humans stomping around, killing things.”

Gojo smirked. “Ouch. That felt personal.”

She ignored him. “It’s peaceful when the moon is out. The forest belongs to itself again. No arrows flying, no traps waiting, no…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s just… better.”

Gojo hummed, tapping his chin. “Huh. Never figured fairies for night owls.”

She gave him a deadpan look. “You figured nothing because you didn’t even believe I existed five minutes ago.”

Gojo grinned. “Touché.”

Silence settled between them, but this time, it wasn’t hostile. Gojo watched her, something unreadable in his expression.

Years. She had been here for years, and he never even noticed. How was that possible? And more importantly…

Why did that bother him?

Gojo tilted his head, watching her with renewed curiosity. “So, you’ve been coming here for years, huh?”

She didn’t respond, just kept walking.

His grin widened. “Alright, next question—how old are you?”

She scoffed. “Not answering that.”

Gojo smirked. “Oh? Why? Is it a fairy secret? Or are you just—” He gasped dramatically. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re, like, a hundred years old or something.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not.”

“Two hundred?”

“No.”

“Five hundred?”

“Oh my god.”

Gojo tapped his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Then… judging by your height, I’d say… what, fifteen? Maybe sixteen?”

She froze.

Slowly, she turned to glare at him, pure offense in her eyes. “I’m twenty-two!”

Gojo grinned like he knew that would get a reaction. “Ohhh, there it is.”

Her wings fluttered aggressively. “You are so irritating.”

Gojo shrugged, still smirking. “Hey, I was just guessing. But wow, twenty-two? You sure?”

She clenched her fists. “Yes!”

Gojo hummed, looking at her like he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Mmm. I dunno. You kinda give off little sister energy.”

Her eye twitched. “Say that again, and I will dropkick you.”

Gojo snorted. “I’d like to see you try, shortstack.”

Her wings flared. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” Gojo said casually, hands behind his head. “You just wish you did.”

She stopped abruptly, turning to face him with an exasperated sigh. “And by the way,” she huffed, “can you stop calling me random nicknames? I have a name, you know.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? You do?”

She folded her arms. “Obviously.”

He leaned in slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well then, mysterious fairy, what is it?”

She introduced herself in annoyance, voice clipped and impatient.

Gojo blinked, then grinned. “Huh. That’s actually a really nice name.”

She gave him a flat look. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Oh, never,” he said, hand over his heart. Then, after a beat, his smirk deepened. “Alright then, fairy girl.”

Her eye twitched. “I just told you my name.”

“Yeah, and I heard it,” Gojo said casually. “But, y’know, ‘fairy girl’ just suits you better.”

She groaned, turning back around. “You’re impossible.”

“Or magical,” Gojo shot back, walking beside her. “You did call me stupid earlier, so maybe I just forgot your name already.”

She didn’t even dignify that with a response.

Gojo grinned, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Alright, how about winged menace? Tiny terror? Ooh, what about sparkles?”

She stopped so fast that Gojo nearly bumped into her. Slowly, she turned, her glare sharp enough to cut. “Call me that, and I swear, I will bury you in this forest.”

Gojo pressed his lips together, looking like he was really fighting back laughter. “Alright, alright. No ‘sparkles.’”

She exhaled sharply, resuming her pace.

Gojo let the silence linger for a few moments before grinning.

“…But pixie is still on the table, right?”

She didn’t answer. She was too busy resisting the urge to strangle him.

She kept walking, clearly trying to ignore him, but Gojo was nothing if not persistent.

“Well,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head, “since you were kind enough to introduce yourself, it’s only fair I do the same.”

She shot him a dry look. “I don’t actually care.”

Gojo ignored that completely. “Satoru Gojo. Best hunter in these lands, possibly the most handsome man you’ll ever meet, and definitely the funniest.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “You really just talk like that, huh?”

Gojo grinned. “What can I say? Some people are born to be great.”

She sighed, muttering, “And some people are born to be insufferable.”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “Wow. Rude.”

She kept walking.

Gojo smirked. “Anyway, as I was saying—I’m twenty-four, I live alone, and I technically don’t have to hunt that much, but hey, a man’s gotta make a living.”

She side-eyed him. “You hunt for sport?”

Gojo scoffed. “What? No. I hunt to survive. But if I happen to look really cool doing it, that’s just a bonus.”

She exhaled sharply. “Right. Of course.”

Gojo continued, completely unfazed. “I don’t really like dealing with people, which is why I live on my own. Less drama, less noise. Just me and the great outdoors.” He spread his arms dramatically. “Peaceful, right?”

She glanced at him. “You? Living in peace? Hard to imagine.”

Gojo chuckled. “Alright, fair point. But hey, I could be worse. I could be some grumpy old hunter who never cracks a joke.”

“I think I’d prefer that.”

“Ouch,” Gojo laughed. “You wound me.”

She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

Gojo, of course, followed right after her, still talking.

“Anyway, what else? Oh! I have amazing eyesight. You might’ve noticed.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“And I’m ridiculously strong. Seriously, I could probably carry you and your wings with one arm.”

“Not happening.”

“And, best of all—” Gojo grinned, stepping in front of her and walking backward so he could face her directly— “I’m really fun to be around.”

She stared at him blankly. “You’re really something, alright.”

Gojo smirked, absolutely taking that as a compliment. “See? You’re warming up to me already.”

She groaned. “You are so lucky I have more important things to deal with.”

Gojo chuckled, hands behind his head. “I am lucky. Lucky I found a real-life fairy to bother for the rest of the day.”

She let out a long breath, as if gathering every ounce of patience she had left.

Gojo just grinned, completely entertained. ThisGojo walked alongside her, hands behind his head, still grinning like he had all the time in the world. “So, fairy girl, where do you live?”

She glanced at him, clearly suspicious. “In the forest.”

Gojo snorted. “Yeah, obviously. But I mean, where’s your house?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze flickered ahead, wings shifting slightly as she kept walking.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t wanna tell me? Afraid I’ll crash at your place? I promise I don’t take up much space.”

Still, no response.

Gojo slowed his pace slightly, watching her carefully. “Wait… do fairies even live in houses? Do you guys have little tree villages? Hollow logs? Underground tunnels? Ooooh, or do you sleep in giant flower petals?”

She let out a sharp sigh before finally answering, voice quiet.

“…I don’t have one.”

Gojo blinked.

For once, he didn’t have a snarky response ready.

She kept walking like she hadn’t just dropped that information so casually, like it wasn’t something strange or concerning.

Gojo, of course, wasn’t about to let it slide.

“…Wait. What do you mean you don’t have one?” He frowned. “Like, at all?”

She didn’t look at him. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Gojo narrowed his eyes slightly, processing that. No house. Nowhere to go. Nowhere she belonged.

Something about that didn’t sit right with him.

And for the first time since meeting her, his teasing grin completely disappeared.

Gojo stared at her, still processing the fact that she didn’t have a home. Then, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, he grinned and said, “Woah. You can live at my place.”

She stopped walking.

Gojo kept going. “It’s big enough for us, and I am an excellent host. I can take care of you—make sure you have food, a warm bed, maybe even—”

She turned to him with a look of pure disgust.

“First of all, no way am I living with someone like you.”

Gojo clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch.”

“And second,” she continued, rolling her eyes, “I can’t leave the forest.”

Gojo frowned. “Why not?”

She gave him a look like he was dense. “Because if humans saw me, they’d hunt me. Or—or worse. I don’t even want to know what they’d do.”

Gojo blinked, tilting his head. “I mean… I’m also a human?”

She hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then, without meeting his eyes, she muttered, “You’re different.”

Gojo stared at her, something unreadable flashing across his face.

She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. “And please… don’t tell anyone about me, okay?” Her voice softened just a little. “Not like they’d believe you anyway.”

Gojo watched her carefully, noting the way her wings folded slightly, as if she was trying to make herself smaller.

Then, with a smirk, he shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “Don’t worry, pixie. Your secret’s safe with me.”

She groaned. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Gojo chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.”

But despite his teasing, something in his expression had shifted.

And for reasons he didn’t quite understand yet… he meant what he said.

Gojo kept walking beside her, his usual smirk still present but his mind running with thoughts he couldn’t quite shake. She really had nowhere to go? She couldn’t even leave the forest?

That… didn’t sit right with him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the rustling leaves and the occasional chirp of whatever birds were still left in this part of the forest.

Then Gojo broke the silence.

“So,” he started, tilting his head at her, “you’ve been hiding here for years, huh? Just… out here, alone?”

She didn’t look at him. “I’m not alone.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You got a secret fairy society somewhere?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. But I don’t need one.”

Gojo hummed, unconvinced. “Must get kinda lonely, though.”

She stiffened slightly.

It was small—barely noticeable—but Gojo caught it.

“…It’s not so bad,” she muttered after a while.

Gojo watched her carefully.

Then, out of nowhere, he grinned and threw an arm over her shoulder. “Well, lucky for you, you’ve got me now!”

She immediately shoved him off. “Don’t touch me!”

Gojo burst out laughing, hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! No touching the fairy, got it.”

She scowled. “You are the worst.”

“Aw, come on, I’m a great companion!” He smirked. “Super fun, super strong, and super annoying. The full package.”

She groaned. “Why are you still following me?”

Gojo stretched his arms behind his head. “Dunno. Maybe I’m just curious.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Curious about what?”

Gojo shrugged. “Dunno yet. Guess I’ll find out.”

She sighed heavily, clearly realizing he had no plans of leaving her alone anytime soon.

Gojo chuckled.

For some reason, that thought didn’t bother him one bit.

She sighed, her gaze dropping to the forest floor as they walked. Then, almost too quietly, she muttered, “But… I do want to go outside the forest.”

Gojo’s brows lifted slightly in surprise.

“But I’m scared,” she admitted, voice softer now. “If someone saw me—” She shook her head, cutting herself off. “I don’t know what they’d do.”

Gojo watched her carefully, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of her being scared—of her being trapped here—didn’t sit right with him.

And maybe he should’ve thought it through more, maybe he should’ve considered what he was about to offer—

But he didn’t.

Instead, he grinned, stepping in front of her and bending slightly so they were eye level. “Then let me do it for you.”

She blinked, taken aback. “What?”

Gojo smirked. “You wanna see the outside world, right?” He tapped his chest. “I’ll take you.”

She stared at him, clearly trying to figure out if he was joking. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am.” His grin widened. “C’mon. Who better to sneak you out than me?”

She hesitated, her wings twitching slightly. “You’re a human.”

Gojo tilted his head. “Yeah. And?”

She frowned. “You know why that’s a problem.”

Gojo chuckled. “Relax. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” His voice was still teasing, still playful, but underneath it was something else—something solid.

She searched his face for a long moment, uncertain.

He let her think. Let her weigh the idea, weigh him.

Then, slowly, she exhaled and looked away. “…It’s not that simple.”

Gojo just smirked. “Maybe not.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “But hey, lucky for you, I love complicated things.”

She sighed heavily, like she already regretted this conversation. “You’re ridiculous.”

Gojo chuckled, turning to walk beside her again. “And yet, you still haven’t said no.”

She didn’t reply.

Gojo glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his smirk softening just a little.

He didn’t know why he cared so much.

But he did.

And that was enough.

➽──────────────❥

You sat peacefully on a thick tree branch, the cool morning breeze brushing against your skin as you ran your fingers gently over the feathers of a small bird perched beside you. It chirped softly, pressing into your touch, unbothered by your presence.

This was your routine—finding solace in the quiet of the forest, away from the chaos, away from—

"Oi! Fairy girl!"

Your peace shattered instantly.

You stiffened, closing your eyes briefly, exhaling through your nose. Of course.

He came.

Satoru Gojo.

You glanced down, and sure enough, there he was, standing beneath your tree, looking just as insufferable as ever. His usual grin was present, but something else caught your attention—he was holding a brown cloak in his hand, waving it slightly.

You narrowed your eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Gojo smirked. "What, no ‘good morning’?"

You sighed, shifting slightly on the branch. "Gojo."

His grin widened. "That’s better."

You rolled your eyes. "Why are you here?"

Gojo held up the cape. "Brought you a gift."

You blinked. "…A what?"

"A cape," he said casually, shaking it out. "You did say you wanted to go outside the forest, right?"

You hesitated.

Gojo smirked. "Figured you’d need a disguise. Y’know, since your very obvious wings might make people lose their minds."

You frowned, eyeing the fabric warily. "And you just… had that lying around?"

Gojo shrugged. "Not exactly. But I may have borrowed it."

You scoffed. "You stole it, didn’t you?"

Gojo gasped dramatically. "Excuse me! I acquired it. Totally different thing."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "You’re impossible."

Gojo chuckled, stepping closer. "C’mon. Try it on."

You eyed him suspiciously, but curiosity got the better of you. With a sigh, you leapt down from the branch, landing lightly on your feet in front of him.

Gojo handed you the cloak, watching as you hesitantly draped it over your shoulders. The fabric was thick but surprisingly soft, and when you adjusted it, it covered your wings completely.

Gojo grinned. "See? Looks good on you. Almost makes you look normal."

You shot him a glare. "Gee, thanks."

He chuckled. "So, what do you think? Ready to step out of the forest?"

You hesitated again, gripping the fabric slightly.

Gojo watched you carefully, his usual playfulness still there, but something else lingered in his expression—something patient.

You exhaled. "Maybe."

Gojo smirked. "Maybe is a good start."

You adjusted the cloak slightly, shifting your shoulders. The fabric was thick and heavy, pressing against your wings in a way that wasn’t exactly painful but definitely uncomfortable.

“…It’s kinda uncomfortable for my wings,” you muttered, frowning as you tried to reposition them beneath the fabric. “Feels weird.”

Gojo hummed, tilting his head as he watched you. “Yeah, I figured that might be a problem.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then why didn’t you get something better?”

Gojo smirked. “What, and rob an entire tailor’s shop? I’m not that much of a criminal.”

You scoffed. “Debatable.”

Gojo laughed, but then his grin shifted into something a little more thoughtful. “Still, even with the cape, people might get suspicious.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gojo gestured vaguely. “You know, seeing me walking around with a girl they’ve never seen before? Might raise some eyebrows.”

You blinked, suddenly realizing the flaw in his plan. “Oh.”

Gojo grinned. “Yeah. I mean, I am quite the handsome and mysterious man—people tend to notice me.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not the issue.”

He smirked. “You sure? Could be a great excuse to say you’re my secret lover.”

Your wings twitched under the cloak. “I will punch you.”

Gojo laughed. “Alright, alright. No need for violence, pixie.”

You groaned. “Ugh, we’re gonna get caught before we even try at this rate.”

Gojo tapped his chin. “Hmm. Guess we need a cover story, huh?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking?”

Gojo grinned. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of ideas.”

You had a feeling you were about to regret everything.

You walked beside Gojo, your hands gripping the edges of the cloak as you stepped out of the forest for the first time in years. The open air felt different—less wild, less free. The towering trees were replaced by open roads, stone pathways leading toward a town that seemed to hum with life.

As you approached, the first thing you noticed was the people.

Children ran barefoot through the streets, their laughter echoing as they weaved between market stalls. Vendors called out their wares—fresh bread, spices, handwoven fabrics—all filling the air with an odd but strangely comforting mix of scents. Women strolled by in elegant dresses, their skirts swishing with every step, their hair pinned in intricate styles as they gossiped with one another. The faint melody of a musician’s tune drifted through the air, blending into the sound of horses trotting down the cobbled paths.

It was… overwhelming.

You kept your head down, pressing the hood of the cloak lower over your face as you walked closer beside Gojo.

He noticed. Of course he did.

“Nervous?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

You scowled. “No.”

Gojo smirked. “Right. That’s why you’re clinging to that cloak like it’s your lifeline.”

You huffed, loosening your grip slightly but still keeping your pace quick. “People are staring.”

Gojo chuckled. “They’re curious. That’s normal.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “That’s bad.”

Gojo just shrugged, walking with that same relaxed confidence he always had, completely unbothered. “Relax. Just stick with me. No one’s gonna do anything.”

That was easy for him to say.

You swallowed, ignoring the way a few passing townsfolk gave you curious glances.

You had made it this far.

Now you just had to blend in.

As you walked deeper into town, your nerves were starting to get the better of you. Every passing glance felt like it lasted too long, every whispered conversation felt like it was about you.

Then, without warning—

Gojo grabbed your hand.

You immediately tensed. “What are you—?”

“Relax,” he said smoothly, his grip firm but not forceful. “You’re looking too jumpy. This’ll make you seem less suspicious.”

You frowned, trying to pull away. “I don’t need your help blending in.”

Gojo smirked, effortlessly keeping his hold. “Oh, really? Because right now, you look like you just walked into civilization for the first time in your life.”

You glared at him. “That’s because I did.”

Gojo chuckled. “Exactly. Which is why you should listen to me.”

You tried again to yank your hand back. “This is unnecessary.”

He didn’t let go. “It’s convincing.”

You huffed, wings twitching uncomfortably beneath the cloak. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Gojo grinned. “A little, yeah.”

You groaned, giving up the struggle. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are, holding my hand.”

“I’m not—you are—” You shut your mouth, inhaled deeply, and faced forward. “Whatever. Just… don’t make it weird.”

Gojo squeezed your hand lightly. “No promises.”

You were so going to regret this.

➽──────────────❥

Gojo wasted no time leading you through the bustling streets, completely in his element while you tried your best to blend in. He was annoyingly casual about the whole thing, weaving effortlessly through the crowd, dragging you along as if this were just another ordinary day.

He stopped at a food stall first, handing the vendor a few coins before turning to you with a smug grin. “Here. Try this.”

You eyed the small pastry in his hand, then glanced at him suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Good,” he said simply, shoving it toward you.

You hesitated but took a cautious bite. The soft, flaky crust melted in your mouth, the filling warm and sweet with a hint of spice. Your eyes widened slightly—it was actually delicious.

Gojo smirked. “Told you.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, swallowing the bite before muttering, “…It’s alright.”

Gojo laughed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

And so it continued.

He dragged you from stall to stall, making you try different things—fruits so sweet they made your lips tingle, roasted nuts coated in honey, warm bread fresh from the oven. Every time you protested, he would shove something else into your hands, grinning like a child as he watched you try new flavors.

You were starting to suspect this wasn’t about “blending in” at all—he just wanted an excuse to feed you.

He guided you through the winding streets, pointing out different places—where to get the best food, which vendor had the softest fabrics, which alleyways to avoid unless you wanted to get robbed (which he said with way too much amusement).

And then, of course, people started noticing.

It started with whispers. Curious glances.

And then finally—

“Hey, Gojo,” a passing merchant called out, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s this girl with you?”

You stiffened. Your heart picked up pace. Shit.

More people turned to look, the attention settling heavily on you. Gojo, of course, looked completely unbothered.

Then he smiled. And opened his mouth.

“Oh, her?” He pulled you slightly closer, tilting his head as if the answer was obvious.

“My secret lover, not secret anymore though—”

Silence.

Every single person around you froze.

Eyes widened. Mouths dropped open.

The air grew thick with shock.

You blinked, your brain momentarily unable to process what he had just said.

Then—

Your eyebrow twitched.

Oh god. He really said that.

Gojo just grinned, clearly entertained by everyone’s reaction. He squeezed your hand lightly, as if sealing the deal.

You, on the other hand, were one second away from killing him.

Your fingers curled into a fist. Your wings twitched violently beneath the cloak.

Oh, he was so dead.

And yet, Gojo just chuckled, completely ignoring the way you were vibrating with barely restrained rage.

"What?" he said innocently, looking around at the stunned crowd. “Is that so hard to believe?”

You were so going to murder him in broad daylight.

The second the words left Gojo’s mouth, the questions exploded.

“Wait—seriously?”

“Gojo, since when?!”

“Where’s she from?”

“Why haven’t we seen her before?”

You stiffened as the crowd suddenly closed in, eager for answers. Oh god, what had he done?

Gojo, of course, was perfectly relaxed, grinning like he was enjoying every second of this. “She’s from a neighboring town,” he said smoothly, not missing a beat. “That’s why you haven’t seen her before.”

People nodded like that made perfect sense.

You, meanwhile, were standing there like a deer caught in torchlight, unable to do anything. You couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t argue. Couldn’t even glare at him properly because all eyes were on you.

You had no choice but to go along with it.

Gojo was still talking, still lying effortlessly, answering every question thrown his way.

“How long have you two been together?”

“A while now,” Gojo replied, slinging an arm around your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You nearly choked.

He was enjoying this too much.

Then, someone laughed—a young man standing by one of the market stalls, shaking his head in amusement. “Damn, Gojo,” he said, grinning. “You really broke all the ladies’ hearts, huh?”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

Of course he’d be popular.

You hated to admit it, but… Gojo was handsome.

Annoyingly so.

His bright blue eyes, his sharp features, the way his white hair somehow looked effortlessly perfect—he had the kind of beauty that stood out, that demanded attention. Even in a town full of people, he was the person you’d notice first.

You hated that you noticed.

Gojo just laughed, completely unfazed. “Ahh, what can I say?” he sighed dramatically. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

More laughter, more teasing.

You, on the other hand, were still recovering from the fact that he had just made you his “lover” in front of half the town.

This was not how you expected today to go.

And judging by the way Gojo was still smirking, you had a very bad feeling that this wasn’t over yet.

You could feel their eyes on you.

The women in the crowd—some subtle, some not—were all staring. Some whispered to each other, casting quick glances your way, while others openly examined you, their expressions ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled judgment.

You shifted slightly under the weight of their stares, resisting the urge to pull your hood lower, fidgeting with it.

It made sense. Gojo was handsome, charming, and irritatingly confident. He was the type of person who naturally drew attention, the kind who could have anyone he wanted—so why had he suddenly claimed you?

The disbelief in their gazes said it all.

You clenched your jaw, pretending not to notice the way some of them whispered behind their hands.

Gojo, meanwhile, was completely unfazed.

If he noticed the way the women were sizing you up, he didn’t acknowledge it. He just stood there, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in ages.

You, on the other hand, were not having fun.

Not only were you stuck in this ridiculous situation, but now you were also dealing with the silent judgment of people who had probably spent years fawning over him.

Great. Just great.

You subtly exhaled, trying to ignore it.

But the longer it went on, the more you wanted to strangle the man standing beside you.

And judging by the glint of amusement in his eyes, he knew it.

You exhaled slowly, keeping your expression neutral as Gojo continued to entertain the crowd like this was his personal stage.

The questions didn’t stop.

“Where did you two meet?”

Gojo hummed, tapping his chin. “Ah, it’s quite the romantic story, actually—”

You shot him a warning glare.

He smirked. “—but that’s a secret.”

The crowd groaned, clearly disappointed but still eating up every word he fed them.

You, meanwhile, were dying inside.

The stares from the women hadn’t stopped. Some of them had their arms crossed, unimpressed. Others whispered behind their hands, their eyes flickering between you and Gojo like they were trying to make sense of this unbelievable pairing.

And the worst part?

Gojo knew it.

You could see it in the way he smirked, the way his grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if to prove a point.

Oh, he was enjoying this way too much.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You tugged at his arm, lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Enough,” you hissed. “Can we go now?”

Gojo glanced at you, clearly amused. “Hmm? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your eye twitched. “I will kill you.”

Gojo laughed. Actually laughed.

The crowd looked between you, interest piqued.

“You two are adorable,” one of the older women in the market cooed.

Gojo grinned. “Aren’t we?”

You resisted the very strong urge to stomp on his foot.

Instead, you yanked at his sleeve again, hissing, “If you don’t walk away in the next five seconds, I swear—”

Gojo chuckled, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”

With that, he pulled you through the crowd, his hand still firmly holding onto yours, as if to make sure you couldn’t escape just yet.

The stares followed you as you walked away.

You could still feel them.

And as Gojo led you down another street, humming to himself like nothing had happened, you made a silent vow—

You were getting back at him for this.

As soon as you were far enough from the crowd, without hesitation—

SMACK.

Your hand came down hard on Gojo’s head.

“Ow—hey!” He stumbled slightly, rubbing the spot with an exaggerated wince. “What was that for?”

You shot him a look. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe for LYING TO HALF THE TOWN?!”

Gojo blinked. Then smirked. “Ohhh, that?”

Your eye twitched. “YES, THAT.”

He chuckled, still rubbing his head. “Damn, fairy girl, you’re stronger than you look.”

“I should’ve hit you harder.”

Gojo grinned. “Aww, but then I’d have to tell everyone my lover is abusing me.”

You lunged at him.

Gojo dodged, laughing as he raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Relax! It was just a joke!”

“Oh, just a joke?” You crossed your arms, glaring. “Do you have any idea what you just did?!”

Gojo tilted his head. “Uh… made you a local celebrity?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Now the whole town thinks we’re together!”

Gojo shrugged. “Eh, could be worse.”

You looked at him like you wanted to strangle him. “How?"

He smirked. “Well, technically, I could’ve said we were married.”

You gaped at him in horror.

Gojo burst out laughing.

“Ohhh, your face—” He wiped a fake tear from his eye, still grinning. “That was priceless.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you actually killed him.

Gojo smirked, tilting his head. “You’re really worked up over this, huh?”

You glared. “Because now people are going to keep asking about it! The women in town are already mad!”

Gojo hummed, amused. “Jealous, you think?”

“Oh, definitely,” you deadpanned. “I mean, look at you. Handsome, charming, the worst person I’ve ever met—”

Gojo placed a hand on his chest. “Aw, stop, you’re making me blush.”

You were so close to knocking him out.

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Just—just fix this, okay?”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. “Fix it?”

“Yes! Tell them you were lying, or joking, or—something!”

Gojo just grinned. “Ehhh… I dunno.”

Your hands curled into fists. “Gojo.”

He leaned in slightly, still smirking. “But you haven’t denied it, have you?”

Your breath caught for a second.

Then—

You shoved him so hard that he actually stumbled back, laughing.

“Fix it.”

Gojo just winked. “No promises.”

You hated him.

You really did.

And the worst part?

He knew it.

Gojo was still grinning, completely unbothered by the fact that you had just smacked him.

Then, as if he hadn’t just caused chaos, he stretched lazily and said, “Alright, let’s go to my place.”

You blinked. “What?”

Gojo looked at you like it was obvious. “My house. You know, where I live? Where we can not stand in the middle of town while you plot my murder?”

You scowled. “I don’t need to go to your house.”

Gojo smirked. “Oh, so you want to stay out here where people might keep asking about us?”

Your lips pressed together.

Damn him.

“…Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “But only because I need to sit somewhere and recover from the disaster you just caused.”

Gojo chuckled. “Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, pixie.”

You shot him a glare, but he just grinned and led the way.

The walk to his home wasn’t long, but by the time you arrived, you were… surprised.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the small house in front of you wasn’t anything extravagant. It wasn’t large or overly fancy, but it had a certain charm to it. The wooden walls looked well-maintained, the small porch had a few crates stacked neatly against the side, and a window had soft, warm light spilling out from within.

It looked… cozy.

You glanced at Gojo, raising an eyebrow. “This is your place?”

He grinned. “What? Expecting a castle?”

You huffed. “No. Just… thought it’d be messier.”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “Wow. You really don’t think highly of me, huh?”

You smirked. “Not even a little.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he pushed the door open. “Well, come on in. Mi casa es tu casa, fairy girl.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him inside.

And for the first time, you stepped into his world.

The moment Gojo pushed the door open, you stepped inside cautiously, taking in your surroundings.

It was… not what you expected.

The space was small but warm, with wooden beams overhead and stone walls that gave it a sturdy, lived-in feel. A wooden dining table sat at the center, covered with a checkered cloth, a half-empty bottle of wine resting on it like it had been forgotten there. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with jars, plates, and random trinkets, while an old clock ticked softly above the fireplace. The scent of dried herbs and faint traces of smoke from the stove lingered in the air, making the place feel oddly inviting.

Your gaze drifted to the kitchen area, where pots and pans hung neatly from hooks, and sunlight filtered through a small window, casting a golden glow across the room. Everything had a simple charm to it—unexpectedly cute, even.

“…Huh.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, shutting the door behind him. “What?”

You glanced at him. “I don’t know. I just… thought you’d live in more of a mess.”

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. So little faith in me.”

You smirked. “I mean, considering the way you act, I expected, I don’t know—half-eaten food lying around, arrows stuck in the walls, maybe a dead animal on the floor.”

Gojo snorted. “I am a hunter, not a wild animal.”

You hummed, unconvinced, as you wandered toward the table, brushing your fingers over the wooden surface. “It’s… cute.”

Gojo smirked. “Oh? You think I’m cute?”

You turned to him with a deadpan expression. “The house.”

Gojo chuckled, clearly entertained. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re too proud to admit I’ve got taste.”

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. The chair creaked slightly under your weight, but it was sturdy, just like everything else in this place.

Gojo walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of mugs from a shelf. “Tea?”

You blinked. “You drink tea?”

Gojo smirked over his shoulder. “What, did you think I just survive off the thrill of the hunt and sheer charisma?”

“…Yes.”

He laughed. “Fair. But no. I drink tea, and so do you now.” He placed a cup in front of you before sitting across the table, resting his chin in his palm.

For the first time since stepping into town, you felt yourself relax just a little.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

As you sat at the wooden table, fingers curling around the warm mug Gojo had placed in front of you, a strange feeling settled in your chest.

Comfort.

You weren’t sure why, but something about this place—this home—felt… good. Safe. Like it had been lived in, like it had stories within its walls. It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but it had warmth. The soft ticking of the clock, the scent of herbs in the air, the way the light spilled gently through the window—it all felt oddly familiar.

Like home.

You weren’t supposed to feel that way. Not outside the forest. Not in a human’s house. And yet…

You exhaled slowly, letting yourself sink into the moment.

Gojo, of course, noticed. He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk. “Comfy?”

You shot him a look. “No.”

His grin widened. “Liar.”

You huffed, sipping your tea to avoid answering. It was warm, a little bitter, but soothing in a way you hadn’t expected.

Gojo chuckled, but for once, he didn’t push.

For a moment, the two of you sat there, just existing in the quiet.

And for the first time in a long time… you didn’t feel so out of place.

The warmth of the tea seeped through the cup into your fingers, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy it—the quiet, the stillness, the way the air inside this small home felt different from the outside world.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, watching you over the rim of his mug. “Y’know,” he started, voice smooth and teasing, “for someone who acted like they hated coming here, you’re looking awfully comfortable.

You shot him a side glance, unimpressed. “I can leave.”

Gojo smirked. “Yeah? And go where?”

That shut you up.

He knew you had nowhere else to be. That the forest was the only place you ever returned to, and even that wasn’t really a home.

You set your mug down, crossing your arms. “Don’t think this means I like you.”

Gojo grinned. “Oh, obviously. You just like my house.”

You scoffed, looking away. “Maybe.”

Gojo chuckled, but his expression softened slightly as he rested his chin in his palm, watching you. “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he said, voice quieter this time, “you can stay as long as you want.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

He said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like the idea of you being here, in his space, wasn’t strange at all.

You hesitated, glancing down at your cup. “…I won’t stay long.”

Gojo just smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

The warmth of the tea, the flickering light from the stove, the faint creaks of the wooden house settling—it all felt strangely calm.

Too calm.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, letting the silence stretch between you and Gojo. But for once, he wasn’t talking. He just leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, watching you with that lazy, unreadable expression.

You didn’t like it.

It felt like he was waiting for something.

“…What?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow.

Gojo smirked. “Nothing.”

You scowled. “Then stop looking at me like that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up, grabbing your empty mug along with his. “Alright, alright. No need to get all shy, fairy girl.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach twisted slightly at his words.

As he turned away, moving toward the small sink, you let your gaze drift around the house once more. The warmth, the familiarity of it—it was dangerous. It made you forget, just for a second, that you didn’t belong here.

You exhaled, standing up as well.

You wouldn’t get too comfortable.

Because sooner or later… you’d have to leave.

A/n- Honestly, writing this took longer than I expected, but I had so much fun with it. Gojo is already a menace, and reader is already so done with him, lmao. But hey, she did feel comfortable at his place… wonder what that means. I hope I didn't disappointed y'all:>

Chapter 2 is gonna be interesting, so stay tuned! And let me know what you think so far, have a great day🩷🫶

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[llamagoddessofficial]

Okay wait! We need more fae farm Sans please! that was too good! What would it look like when Sans's secret is revealed?

HFKDSJ okay, here's some more.

I really don't think he'd be too worried about it, when you discover his otherworldly nature. Because neither would you. Everyone already knows he's kind of strange, rumours of him not being 'normal' are abound. At that point, you would've already spent many moons getting to know him, being vulnerable without even realising - and you'd be living in a world where fae aren't uncommon at all. He's already proven himself a trustworthy friend. Why would you be scared of him?

... Especially since you have no reason to believe he's anything other than normal fae.

What you (a human) might forget is that the fair folk are not a homogeneous group. Some fae even other fae fear. He's one such entity.

It's difficult to tell if he's more powerful than Dream or Nightmare, considering he spends all his time... well, farming. It's also difficult to compare them because while all three are very ancient, they trace back to very different lineages. Dream and Nightmare are fae of butterflies, flowers, mushrooms, trees, seasons. Farmer is of ferns - of bogs, of gingkos, pine and moss.

Yall remember my Forest God AU? He's like if a Forest God got its act together, and just decided to settle down in a humanoid form. He's lived long enough to know what really matters... things like soft socks, a place to call home, the eyes and lips of a human you love.

He calls you "chickadee". It's his favourite bird.

People from the nearby village will giddily ask if you and Farmer are 'courting'. The delightful but mysterious bachelor finally has someone he likes? Everyone's rooting for him!

You have a very important role, on his farm. Very very important. You're his preserves tester. How is he supposed to know his jams and chutneys are any good, without someone of refined palate to assist him?

He has a really wonderful singing voice.

Old habits die hard; he still likes to trade. But the trades are silly, and often just an excuse for him to play. You want to hear him sing again? Better 'trade' by agreeing to cuddle up by the fire with him. You want another song, because the last sounded so ancient and beautiful and unlike anything you've ever heard? Try his spiced rice pudding, then he'll think about it.

His favourite food is roasted chestnuts.

His farm rests on the boundary between the fae and human worlds. You can enter from either side - and if you're not careful, leave on the wrong side. Farmer always walks you the right way, but if someone he doesn't like decides to make their leave, he might not be so attentive to where they're going.

You can stay at his farm without turning into fae. Alternatively, if you enter his property from the fae side, your transformation into fae is paused.

Wouldn't be surprised if he can reverse an incomplete transformation.

He talks fondly, but in the past tense, about a brother.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Law and Order - A Once In A Blue Moon Story

Part II

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: When a blind date leads to disaster, you’re almost ready to give up on men. Until he sits down on the bar stool in front of you. This man is different - sensual, gorgeous, confident. He makes you want to live a little on the wild side. What do you do when a night you don’t want to forget turns into a forbidden relationship by light of day? How do you cope, especially when he doesn’t seem to want a thing to do with you?

Warnings: Rough sex, illicit relationship, dom/sub overtones, toxic relationship, imbalance of power in the work place

This chapter includes sections which may be too much for sensitive readers. They will be denoted by *** Trigger Warnings *** Please do not read these sections if you believe you will be triggered by it. Bradley is rude, cruel and incredibly rough while having sex with the reader and she feels it acutely.

Word Count: 4893

Author’s Note: Hiya lovelies! It’s been a while since I’ve posted a story on here. I kind of lost my muse and had to find her, and my love for writing all over again.

Thanks to @horseshoegirl @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern for chatting with me about this story and making sure I’m handling all of the things which happen in the best way I can!

This is going to be a multi-part story. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

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Part II

“Garcia!” 

It would normally be funny to see your training partner’s head stick up over his files at your mentor’s shout from his office across the bullpen if you weren’t so desperately waiting for your own to be called every once in a while. You’ve been working at Kazansky, Mitchell and Bradshaw for three months. But it has been three months of digging through files and typing out the transcripts of interviews while Mickey gets to sit in on the interviews and learn how to prosecute a breach of contract case. It stings, the outright rejection. Outwardly, your mentor is all smiles, never hesitating to include you in the trial and pre-trial preparations.

But you know your mentor won't call your name. He hasn’t looked twice at you, not since that disastrous first day. And you're not sure there is anything you could do to change how he feels. You’ve pulled long hours, working ceaselessly to make yourself irreplaceable, make him see you’re worth keeping on at the firm. But all your effort hasn’t made a dent; your hard work, for naught. He talks to Mickey, only Mickey. Any time he needs someone, he calls for Mickey.

The others all look at you like you’re some pariah or martyr, seated in your cold, dismal cube night after night, long past the time when everyone else is packing up to go home. You have ears after all. And they’re not subtle in the slightest with their snarky mutters of how, “she must’ve pissed Bradshaw off already, goody-two-shoes.” 

It’s true. You have pissed him off already. Nobody knows how, nor are you inclined to share the secret either. It’s a filthy little thing you keep trapped behind iron gates in the back of your mind. You swallow the glib words down with every word they say, ignoring the harsh observations. Instead, you smile blandly as they poke and needle at you over the lunch table, when you eat with them and not in your cube, of course.

The office always feels colder, almost menacing when you’re left here alone. It’s dark and silent in the room, only the rustling of the papers in front of you and the absent-minded tapping of your pen echoing in the room.

“What are you still doing here?” 

You squeak, knee colliding painfully against the underside of the desk, pen rolling away as the tremors cause a paperwork avalanche.

“M-Mr Bradshaw!” You’re stuttering as you stand, trying desperately to remember whether your hair is as much of a mess as you remember it being the last time you wandered into the restroom. You undid your braid hours ago, your head aching from the pressure the length of your hair was putting on your scalp. You’ve been running your fingers through your hair ever since. So you wouldn’t be surprised if your hair is climbing to the rafters by now. But more importantly, there isn’t supposed to be anyone left in the building. Even the janitors ignore you sitting hunched over your desk as you sob pathetically into your paperwork. 

Honestly, you’re not sure why you’re surprised. Who else would it be on a Friday evening? His eyebrow quirks up higher the longer you scramble for your heels under the desk. You don’t find them, but instead, do your best to hide your toes as well as you can.

“I was going over the briefs for Monday morning.”

He blinks then, one curl slipping free over his forehead.

“Seriously,” he sighs, running a big hand over his face. “Go home. You’ve done more than enough work this week. Don’t you have Friday plans like all the rest of them?”

You would have been gratified all those months ago at the compliment couched in an observation. You would have been touched, maybe even pleased. Now, though, you’re starting to see red.

 How dare he? How dare he be nice to you when he’s the reason why you don’t have a life? You’re moving into his space before you’ve even thought about the movement, your bare toes toe-to-toe with his polished leather brogues.

“And whose fault is that, Mr. Bradshaw?” Your voice is still quiet, hushed in the dark office space. He looks taken aback by the vitriol in your voice, eyes widening imperceptibly. “I’ve been here every night because my mentor, the person who is supposed to be teaching me how to be a lawyer, Kazansy, Mitchell and Bradshaw would be proud of, simply can’t bother.”

You smirked then, all the hurt you’ve been plastering band-aids over finally spilled over. 

“And why is that, Mr. Bradshaw?” You hum condescendingly, relishing how his nostrils flare at your flippant, impertinent tone. “Could it be because you picked me up in a bar before I started working for you? Because you fucked me?”

“Or is it because you liked it?” There’s a flush building across his cheeks. He swallows then, Adam's apple bobbing as he licks his lips.

You laugh then, the sounds harsh and cruel as they echo through the space.

“Oh, look at you, Mr. Bradshaw!” You trail a finger over the triangle of skin exposed by the undone top button of his shirt. His breath hitches gorgeously as you turn away, an exhale of breath following you. “Oh wait…. You like Bradley in bed.”

You sit on Mickey’s desk across the way, the surface clear where yours isn’t. When you cross your legs, your skirt rucks up a little. His eyes trace over the inches of exposed skin like they’re the best thing he’s ever seen. You are. You’re not so insecure as to pretend otherwise. Bradley Bradshaw had wanted you three months ago, and it’s abundantly obvious he still wants you now.

“See?” You grin wickedly. “You did like it. So why am I the problem here?”

You lean back, trusting in your splayed out arm to hold your weight. His eyes are on your breasts now, scorching as they trace over your figure on display.

“I agreed to your deal, Bradshaw.” You chuckle mirthlessly at the words. “I mean, you didn’t exactly give me much of an option otherwise. I wanted to keep my job. I wanted to work for Kazansky, Mitchell and Bradshaw.  I told you we wouldn’t talk about that night. So why are you going out of your way to torpedo my career?”

The hurt shows itself for the first time since your anger spilled out of your crimson-stained lips.

“Either mentor me, switch me to work with Trace or Seresin, or fucking fire me. I’m done playing this game. I’m not doing a single thing for this firm like this, and I refuse to waste any more of my time when I could have gone to any other firm in the state.”

Your ultimatum has his lips flattening.

“Sure, sweetheart.” He rolls his sleeves up, then, something derisive in his tone as he ignores you. “Maybe you can get a job at another firm in California. Maybe they’d give you a little bump in pay and set you up to be a perfectly average lawyer. But you won’t be a Kazansky, Mitchell, and Bradshaw lawyer. We’re the best of the best, sweetheart.”

It’s his turn to smirk as he takes a step forward.

“But you know that.” He curls a lock of your hair around his long fingers. “You wouldn’t have applied here otherwise. And we wouldn’t have hired you if we didn’t think you could flourish here.”

He hums then, undoing a single button in your blouse, one of the little ones at your cuff. He doesn’t seem to mind how inconvenient it is, your sleeves having been rolled up to your elbows hours ago. “But you may have a point. I have been unfair.”

You’re ready to jump for joy at his words. Is he finally, finally going to give you a chance?

“What was it you said?” His hands are just a little cruel as they yank on the lock of your hair. “Mentor you, switch you to work with Trace or Seresin or fucking fire you, right?”

You nod then, head falling at the cold, hard look in his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to face it, unable to keep eye contact as he looms over you.

“How about if I just fuck you, instead?”

Your head snaps up fast at those words. 

“What do you mean?” Your voice sounds as lost as you feel. “Y-you can’t do that.”

He just smiles, pinching your chin between his fingers.“What can’t I do, hmm?”

His tongue flicks over his lips as his eyes twinkle.

“You can’t be serious.” Your voice is stuttery, paper-soft as your chest heaves under his steady gaze.

“We can’t fuck each other. Not anymore.”

He ignores your words, curling a warm hand around your hip. You know what he’s doing is wrong. He’s supposed to be your mentor, to teach you how to be a good lawyer. He’s not supposed to be propositioning you in the office like this.

“Why not, sweetheart?” Bradley smirks at you, then. You’re a little disgusted to find how turned on you are. He feels so good, despite the danger and all the reasons why you shouldn’t and can't.

You’ve thought about him. About the night you shared quite a bit over the past few months. But you also thought you’d laid the feelings to bed. When you voiced your frustrations earlier, you only wanted an honest conversation with your direct supervisor. You’re not sure what you were expecting. You should step away, leave him standing in the center of the dark office. If you had any integrity at all, you’d go to HR as soon as you can, to report him for his inappropriate conduct. But it’s obvious your integrity and morality are just as flawed as his own. Because you curl into the warmth of his skin, relish in the scent of his cologne.

He laughs as you draw him even closer, just a little cruel, as his arms clasp around your form. They’re insistent and searching, tugging your skirt up and squeezing your ass periodically. His lips slant over yours, claiming and ferocious. It's a series of rough kisses, his mustache and stubble abrading over your sensitive skin as he steals your thoughts from your head. Every kiss disarms you more, which is why you shouldn’t be doing this. The arguments for why you shouldn’t do this dissipate like you’d never thought of them at all. It’s passion, pure and simple, which has the buttons of your blouse scattering with one tug as his teeth sink into the muscle at the side of your neck. It stings, the ache acute and echoing the persistent throb of your heartbeat between your legs.

He doesn’t let you take control. Not when his big hands cradle your skull, tangling in your hair.

“God, look at you, sweetheart.” His voice is a harsh purr. “You’ve been waiting for this, huh? Three months with that little pussy wet?”

He tugs your bra off with another insistent yank. It falls to the floor in a pile of rags, the pristine pastel lace in shreds, underwire bent out of shape, the clasp ripped free. You’re kneeling before you can blink, skin bare, lips parted.

*** Trigger Warnings ***

He hisses as he pulls himself free. Your lips, your tongue are forced wide as he pushes himself between your lips. He cradles your skull in his hands as you take him to the hilt. You’ve never done this before. He treats you like a doll, like you’re expendable. Yet you’ve never been so turned on. He pistons his hips into your face, uncaring of how your eyes tear at the rough treatment. He’s using you for his pleasure, eyes dark as his hands position you as he wants. You’re choking and gagging on his length, saliva dribbling from your parted lips in long strings. The only sounds in the office are his grunts and growls. Your whimpers are cut off quietly. 

But you’ve never been wetter. You can barely breathe when he pulls you up.

*** Trigger Warnings ***

“Shh, sweetheart.” He brushes the tears away as you cough. “C’mon. Let’s go to my office. Grab your clothes.”

Your bra is nearly torn to shreds. The pretty blouse you donned this morning was definitely damaged beyond repair. Your skirt has survived, rucked up around your waist as it is. 

Your panties, however? 

They’re probably ruined, just from how wet you are. On the other hand, Bradley is nearly pristine, only the unbuttoned state of his trousers showing  what the two of you have been up to. It makes you feel cheap and tawdry as you pick your way to his office. It’s dark as you step in. You should pull on what is left of your clothes and walk away. A glance towards the deserted bullpen gives you pause, you don't have to continue, you can leave. 

And if someone walks in on you? On the two of you in Bradley’s all-too-visible glass-walled office? Everything would be over. But you can’t bring yourself to walk away. His touch is seductive, elusive, and you chase after it like an addict chasing their next high. So, you set your blouse and bra in a wrinkled bundle on the chair in front of his desk and sit on the sofa.

“Mmm, don’t you look pretty sitting on my sofa like this.” He pulls you up by your hair. “But I don’t remember giving you permission to sit there.”

You shiver as he pinches one taut nipple.

“Nuh, uh, beautiful. Take off that skirt and your panties.” 

You feel like you’ve been bewitched, spellbound as you wriggle gracelessly out of your skirt and panties. They join the bundle of your blouse and bra on the chair. You can feel his eyes on you with every motion. When you turn around again, your heart is in your throat, and you are fighting your need to hide yourself from his piercing, intense eyes.

“On the floor, sweetheart. On your hands and knees.” The carpet stings against your skin as he pushes you down. You expect to settle on your haunches, staring up at him like you were earlier. But when he pulls away, your forehead rests on your folded arms, nipples brushing against the fibers.

You’re completely exposed, knees parted, and cold air brushing over every bit of you. The clink of his belt buckle echoes through the small space as he frees himself. But he doesn’t touch you, content to have you there instead. You can hear him walking around behind you, the rustle of papers. It’s the second time he’s had you splayed out for him. You can’t help but muse how different it feels this time.

Last time, you had the pleasure of feeling his lips against your skin, his mouth lapping at your wetness like you’re the sweetest nectar. Last time, you felt like the most precious thing in his eyes. This time, he swats at the meat of your ass, jolting you forward as your nipples brush over the carpet. It’s harsh and hard—your skin stings and prickles with every swat. You crave the roughness and how he makes you feel so small, yet wholly owned, like you are his.

“Oh, you’re so wet, sweetheart.” Finally, he laps over your folds. The touch is light, teasing. And maddening. Every pass of his tongue over you drives you crazier. But he doesn’t let you come.

“Please!” You’re begging. But the more you beg, the less likely it seems Bradley will give you what you so desperately want. His hands pull away just as you’re about to orgasm, once, twice, thrice. By the final time, you’re practically sobbing as he pulls away. His laughter is mocking and harsh as he settles in the chair he’d pushed so carelessly to the side before this latest round of his game began. His eyes crawl over every inch of your exposed skin. He swats the meat of your ass with every motion, watching silently, mercilessly as you yelp. 

*** Trigger Warnings ***

“You’re so pathetic.” There’s a dark curl to his voice as he watches you beg and writhe on the carpet. He’s been saying similar things for a while now. You hate it, hate how it makes you feel. But you love it, too. Love how small the words make you feel. You know they aren’t true. But they curl into your brain and burrow into your thoughts. Every growled phrase, every sharp smack drives them deeper. They also make you wetter, needier and inexplicably louder. You no longer care that someone could walk in and see you with your boss. All you want is Bradley’s hands on your skin, big, hot, and so rough you could cry as he positions you as he wants.

Maybe you’re a little messed up to crave this as much as you have. But you’re starting to realize how strong a hold Bradley has on you, even months later. During the first night, Bradley Bradshaw had fisted an iron hand around your heart. It was perfect, then, just tight enough to make you want to give up the control you chase after on a daily basis. Tonight, with you laid out on his office floor, it feels stiflingly hard and harsh. You’re strung up like a marionette on its strings, lips sewn shut like the most pathetic of little dolls. You can whimper, sure. You’re not completely silent. But you’re a slave to his demands, a slave to his desires and a slave to your own.  

Bradley lets you beg until tears are dripping down your face, creating damp drops on the carpet below. Your face feels red, eyes puffy and swollen as you sob for the second time in as many hours. There has to be something wrong with you. Why else would someone want to tear you down so easily? Why else would you like it? Bradley’s shuddery growl when he finally buries himself in you is like a balm for your shivery muscles and cotton-filled head. There’s no slow glide, no adjustment period. From the beginning, it is harsh and rough as he pounds away at you. It’s a relentless assault as he teases you, strung out and wet, so wet. Your muscles twinge as he fucks into you. The abused flesh between your legs stinging and aching, the pain melding with pleasure as he yanks you where he likes. You squeal and sob, begging for more, begging for your release, begging for the pleasure and satisfaction of his.

“Bradley!” 

You meet every thrust with pumps of your hips. He drags you up until you can feel the heat of his chest against your bare back. He traps your arms between your bodies, using the firm grasp he has on your crossed arms to move you on his cock.  He pinches your nipples harshly as he bites at your throat, every action calculated to make you cum with a scream.

 He continues to fuck you like that, skin slapping wetly as he pounds into you over and over. You cum for the second time just like that, your head thrown back over his shoulder. He lets go of you shortly after, pressing you into the carpet in his office, as he chases his release. The sounds of flesh meeting flesh echo through the room as he fucks into you, interspersed with the moans, mostly pained, leaving your lips.

And when he cums, it’s with little concern for your comfort. 

He pulls away soon after, leaving you sprawled over the carpet with your mixed releases cooling over your aching skin. 

*** Trigger Warnings ***

There are no gentle kisses or soft touches, not tonight.

Your knees ache when you stagger to your feet, muscles twinging painfully as you pull your clothes back on. Bradley looks unbelievably smug, a lit cigar perched on his pouty lower lip as he looks coldly over you. It takes only a few minutes for you to tie your blouse over the ruined rags he’s reduced your undergarments to. You feel a little more put-together than you were before. But it doesn’t ease the knowledge that anyone who sees you will be able to see exactly what you were up to.

“Well, don’t you look deliciously fucked, sweetheart.” 

You can’t read the expression on his face any more tonight than you have any other day since you started working at Kazansky, Mitchell and Bradshaw. But you do know the expression isn’t nice, kind, or even loving. It’s distant, oddly amused, with a cruel tint to it.

“Go back to work.” 

It’s a dismissal, clear and simple. You feel dirty as you limp away. There is cum trickling into the ruined lace of your panties with every step you take. Why doesn’t he seem to care about you anymore? Where is the sweetheart of a man who wiped you down, peppered gentle kisses across your skin? Inexplicably, your throat feels tight, breath hitching as you try to swallow back the tears welling in your eyes. It’s horrifying, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror afterward, using wadded-up up damp paper towels to clean yourself up, at least a little. The odd sob leaves you as you try your best to undo the damage and put yourself back together, at least outwardly.

Your head is spinning, muscles aching just as much as your heart does. Why did you try to reason with him? He’s only made it clear over and over again what your worth is in his eyes. Yet you’d still tried to reason with him, professional to professional. But he’d subverted your questions, turned them into a tug-of–war set within the sex game he’d wanted to play with you all along. 

You can’t believe you fell for his games. It was different when he was a stranger. Then you’d found his dominance sexy and willingly submitted to it. You thought he wanted you as his equal. But he’s made it clear since then where you stand with him. You’re a subordinate, an employee, and not even a good one. 

Now you’ve broken the only rule you had since you started working here.

You can’t ever have sex with him again.

Well, you’ve gone and done it now, breaking the rules like they never existed in the first place. And you can’t help hating him and yourself just for doing it. The heat of his body had drugged you, the scent of his cologne. You’d let him destroy you. You let him drop you into the most vulnerable place you’ve ever been in, keep you there while he uses you for his pleasure. And you hadn’t been enough to keep him with you after everything was over and done. You want his hugs, his kisses, the soft pressure of his limbs as they curl around you.

 But he didn’t want to stay. He didn’t see anything in you worth sticking around for. He isn’t the first, and you know, he won’t be the last. You should go home, but somehow you can’t make yourself leave, can’t allow yourself the comfort of one of your safest places. But the longer you sit at your desk, the screensaver on your company laptop cycling in front of your eyes, the worse you feel. The papers are still stacked around you, a flimsy wall of protection as your skin cools and the aches become known.

The clock ticks onward to midnight, even though you would desperately like to freeze it, to turn the time back. But you can’t. It would be easier to forget what just happened. You turn your feelings over and over in your mind until you could be sick. All you want is to forget everything, or barring that, become numb to the actions, the words, and above all, the feelings themselves.

What's that phrase people like to use so often?

You made your bed. Now you have to lie in it.

They make it seem so binary. You made a choice. You - in the singular. What happens if multiple people are playing the game, multiple decisions colluding into a perfect storm? Who is to blame then? Obviously, you are, for letting a man make a fool of you, deceiving you so thoroughly. You're frozen in your office chair, angrier than you've ever been before. But you can blame him, too.

He's made choices of his own tonight, damaging choices, vicious, cruel choices. His choice was to blur the line between mentor and mentee, employer and employee. It was his choice to rip at the softest parts of you until he saw blood. His prerogative was to mark you up in the scarlet substance until you bore the letter A like Hester Prynne did. But the act has marked him, too. His fingers, his person, are now just as smeared with the shade as yours are.

How come he doesn’t feel the weight of that brand like you do? Maybe it’s because you’re the only person physically branded here. When you finally drag yourself home, it’s to find bruises blooming on your knees, and on the meat of your hips. The bites he’d left against your skin, littered all the way from behind your ear lurid and deep to your jugular are lurid and deep, the crescent impressions tender to the touch and burgundy from where blood has pooled under the skin. He’s left you feeling like one big bruise, tender and sore.

That disquieting, uncomfortable feeling niggles at you through the night. Your thoughts don't let you sleep, not a wink, nor does the ache of your muscles. All you can think about is Bradley. You drag the memories forward in your mind over and over again, trying to figure out what you did. Trying to make it okay. Sure you were maybe a little flirtatious when you sat on Mickey's desk. But you'd never hid how much you wanted him, not once since the day you met him. You had goaded him into acting, into making the move he made so easily. But he had taken your interest and ran with it. Maybe you’d wished he would take you out for dinner, and then brought you back to his gorgeous apartment in the city. Maybe you’d hoped he would lead you into HR on Monday morning, ready to disclose your romantic relationship. But now? Now, how do you walk back into the office on Monday morning? How do you know Bradley didn't go out with Trace or Seresin later that night and bragged about getting to fuck you again?

He'd said he doesn’t want his mother to know. But she’s going to find out. She might not find out now, or even in the next week or month. But now that the seal has been ripped away, eventually somebody will find out. Knowing corporate America, you'll be the one to blame. 

So what can you do? You love your job. It’s something you’ve always wanted to do. How do you work with a man who has so little respect for you that he’d leave you hurt when you didn’t ask for the pain? It’s obvious you won’t get the chance to practice or learn how to practice what you love at Kazansky, Mitchell and Bradshaw. 

But how do you keep one bad decision, a string of bad decisions really, from ruining your life? Leaving behind everyone you know in San Francisco is definitely an option. After all, who hasn’t thought of running from their problems? But you’re an adult. You can’t run quite so easily. Your mind keeps circling back to how Bradley has treated you. And over and over again, you come back to the thought of running away. But you don’t desert the city and disappear halfway across the country. 

Instead, you draft an email. 

to: Human Resources <hr@kmb.corp> subject: I humbly tender my resignation CC: b.bradshaw@kmb.corp To whom it may concern, I joined Kazansky, Mitchell, and Bradshaw with the goal of becoming the best lawyer I could be. I wanted to learn from the esteemed partners and develop my own style as a law professional. But over the past three months, I have spent more time with the law books, doing the work of a glorified paralegal, rather than learning how to prosecute and apply the law. I want to explore opportunities where I can do so. So, it is with a heavy heart that I take this step. Please consider this my formal resignation from the law firm of Kazansky, Mitchell and Bradshaw, effective immediately.  The past three months have been an amazing experience. I appreciate the opportunities you've given me to learn and grow, and I value all of the professional relationships I've developed here. They weren’t quite the lessons I hoped to learn, but they were vital lessons nonetheless. I hope to stay in touch. Sincerely,

It shows none of the pain you feel, nor does it show the exhaustion, the rage. It’s bland as well as short, sweet and to-the-point. But the moment you hit send, you feel a weight you’ve unknowingly carried for months dissipate. The pre-dawn hours feel easier to face. Obviously, hard work is coming your way in the coming days, but for now, you put your weary mind and body to rest.

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@sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl @desert-fern @dakotakazansky @teacupsandtopgun @cherrycola27 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @redhope446 @stvrbrighttt

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[somestorythoughts]

Back on my Eldritch Jedi Bullshit

Thinking about eldritch Jedi/Force-Users but not all Jedi. And on the one hand, Anakin being born of the Force and being unbelievably eldritch is good and I like it but on the other hand, Anakin being very powerful but not Eldritch unlike some other Jedi is very funny. See here for a very good version of that.

So some of the Jedi are eldritch. There are faces in their shadows, true faces that aren't silhouettes. There are sunrises and storms and flowers in their eyes. There are more teeth in their mouths than there should be, longer tongues, Power in their voices thrumming along the beats of your heart. There are thorns sprouting from their collarbones, leaves from the gaps in their exoskeletons, ferns from between their feathers. There is sunlight, fire, plasma burning and glowing in their veins, light that can darken into poison, poison that can be purified into sunlight once again. Because Falling doesn't mean you stop burning.

It's tucked away, out of sight. Restrained, much like their emotions. Because when your power reacts to your emotions and you can crush tanks with your mind, it's not physically hard to crush people. They're so much more fragile. The Jedi don't preach self-control for shits and giggles. Sometimes, great power comes with the responsibility not to use it.

And being eldritch it isn't about how powerful you are, though there's some correlation. It's about the way the Force interacts with you. It's the difference between being a channel for the Force and being the Force made flesh.

It's also not something you talk about much in the Temple. It's not exactly a secret, but it's not really the subject of gossip and to people who don't share those traits, it tends to be described as "improving control of one's emotions/relation to the Force." It's personal. Like recognizes like, and padawans with that type of connection tend to get Master's with the same connection. That relationship to the Force makes it easier to lash out, and that's not good for anyone.

It doesn't help that some planets are already leery of regular Jedi. they Really Don't Like the eldritch ones. So over time, this connection became something that was touched on in The Force 101 classes and then not discussed much outside of it by people who DON'T have that connection. Qui-Gon didn't have it, neither did Dooku. Obi-wan doesn't have it, though he knows of it. Anakin Skywalker, as powerful as he is, didn't have it.

Ahsoka Tano does.

Like recognizes like, and most eldritch Force Users know another when they see them. The Jedi make a point, not only of assigning those padawans to similar masters but of taking in those younglings even if they're a bit older than usual. But sometimes, someone just get missed. Sometimes no one sees a youngling's extra teeth, sometimes there aren't any eldritch Jedi in the creche when nightmares scrape the walls, sometimes that connection to the Force is just quiet. Sometimes, that connection to the Force isn't noticed before a Padawan is assigned a Master. Had he known, Yoda would never have assigned Ahsoka to Anakin.

This isn't a slight against Anakin, to be clear. There's advantages to making sure that padawans have masters who know how to help them with their brand of weird Force shenanigans, or at the very least, are regularly meeting with Masters that can help. In normal times, Ahsoka's eldritchness would probably have been noticed within a couple years (if you don't know how to restrain it, it will eventually start showing more) and then she and Anakin would have been introduced to some Eldritch Jedi who would assist with the training. But this isn't normal times. So none of the Jedi notice.

Plo or Obi-Wan could have. Plo's eldritch, and he cares about Ahsoka, but so much of their communication over the war was done over comms. Obi-Wan, having grown up with Quinlan Vos, thinks he knows what eldritch Force Sensitivity looks like and to be fair, if he wasn't distracted by the war he probably would have noticed. But war is Extremely Distracting and Ahsoka's connection is quieter than Quinlan's. He, and Plo, are distracted, and so so tired. So they miss the changing teeth, the periodic gleam in her shadow, the marching beat under her words when on the battlefield that beats in sync with the troopers' boots. And Anakin? He means well and he's trying, but he doesn't know that this is a thing to look for and he can be a bit oblivious.

You know who does notice? The clones. In particular, Kix.

Most all the clones are hypervigilant, thank you Kamino trauma. So they pay A Lot of attention to anything that registers as potentially threatening, even subconsiously. Ahsoka's a kid and they grow to trust her quickly, but there was a time when she was a new inexperienced commanding officer. And after that they were helping to teach her and look out for Threats to the Little Sister, so they were very observant where Ahsoka was concerned.

They don't know enough about Torgurta or Jedi to know what's normal for one, but they do notice the things that don't stay constant. The way her shadow changes, the way her teeth and hands sometimes change shape. Things that are rare in sentients.

Things Ahsoka has started to notice, and worry about.

Kix meanwhile, is a medic who just got an adolescent Togruta put under his care and he has no idea how to take care of her. The Kaminoans weren't told that the medics would be responsible for the jedi (one of those little details that was never clarified and caused confusion in the beginning) so they trained the medics to take care of the other clones and gave them access to some basic medical info for other species for emergency measures. So almost all of Kix's medical knowledge is specifically How to Treat Injuries and Illnesses in Male Humans; Children to Young Adults. Sure, there's overlap, but not enough.

(Yes, the medics do have a private chat where they trade tips and resources and vent about their respective dumbasses. It's a multipurpose chat.)

So he does a lot of research to make sure he can treat Ahsoka properly when she's inevitably injured. He notices things that Do Not Line Up and with Ahsoka's permission reaches out to the Jedi healers.

Now, if eyes might start hovering around your patients when you're doing surgery, that's valuable information to know. So all of the healers know about the eldritchness. They're able to tell Kix and Ahsoka what's going on.

And where it goes from there? I can't say. I can tell you one thing for sure, Mortis undoubtedly makes it WORSE.

[vaporclan]

Seriously, though. Putting Fernfreckle on a shelf and censoring him from the public's eyes until they can be normal about him is all fun and games but I gotta be serious for a second

Every single time Fernfreckle is angry, or says anything even remotely related to Beetlebud/his car injury, I get comments like "he should've moved" "he should have run away" or anything implying it's his fault he got hit by a car because he froze on the road

This was a 6 month old kitten, on his first day out of camp, with no clue what a car is, after being told by his mentor its safe. I wrote this scene with the intent of having a flawed character (Beetlebud) make a stupid mistake.

He's angry because he got half his body scraped raw, his eye popped out, his ear gone and he broke his jaw - because he was told it would be SAFE.

He is angry because he believes Beetlebud is not safe to be around children and brought 3 babies into the Clan despite the young cat death toll (he has been venting his frustrations with his StarClan buddies since his accident - this is explained later in the comic)

He is frustrated because they wanted to figure out how to fix the Clans before any new litters were brought in, because he KNOWS that cats dont usually live past a year old in this Clan.

What he is Not is a character who is an asshole just to be an asshole. And to spoil his whole arc because I'm tired, yes, he becomes less closed off and less of an asshole as time goes on. Because again, it's been less than a year.

It has been 9 MONTHS in the comic since Fern's injury - not even a year yet. We're still EXTREMELY early into this Arc and Fernfreckle's character in general.

You don’t have to like him - but its extremely odd that whenever anyone wants to criticise him they immediately turn to blaming him for the car accident. As a disabled writer writing a disabled character, this is really disheartening

Please, research what the Freeze response is. Have you never seen the Deer in the Headlights metaphor?

I just keep getting nasty comments every time Fernfreckle so much as opens his mouth, and the comments always get likes which implies people agree with them. I do not want people with a victim blamey mindset reading my comic.

Fernfreckle is going to be a main character throughout this arc. If you can't be normal about him, stop reading here. Im begging.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

“I grew up confident about my queerness. Girls at school made fun of me for it but autism’s lack of regard for social norms combined with my constant sapphic-novel-reading had given me confidence and I remained unruffled. I couldn’t imagine being anything other than bisexual and never thought of it as weird. It took repeated messages, over and over and over again, to instil a suitable amount of shame in me.

From what I can tell, a lot of allistic people I know are primarily motivated by social approval so push any rogue queerness down into their subconscious or suppress their thoughts and only get comfortable with it later in life. For me, it’s been the reverse. I was made to get uncomfortable with it. A combination of my rigid thinking with no grey areas combined with society’s messages about sexuality made me more muddled than was necessary. My teen years would be the last time, for a long time, that I felt being bisexual was normal.”

-Strong Female Character by Fern Brady

[hxney-lemcn]

In The Shadows — Finn Mertens x gn! reader

summary: Reader's had enough of Finn's reckless behavior. They leave after an argument only to find themselves back where they started. Will Finn and reader make up? (Spoilers, yes).

tw: hurt/comfort, injury mentioned, arguing

a/n: I am on a roll for not only Finn but also hurt/comfort

wc: 1.4k

Master List

I frowned as Finn came back to the RV once again hurt. This time, Simon was with him, glob help that poor soul. This had become the norm for Finn. All he would do is go on crazy adventures and return beaten and bloodied. This had been going on since Jake's death.

I tried to talk to him, tried to get him to open up, tried to get him to take better care of himself, but it always led him to leave on another adventure. I brushed back Finn's hair, pushing it over his shoulder to reveal his torn shirt and terribly scratched back.

I’d been friends with Finn for as long as I could remember. Him, Jake and I were close as could be. I was there for all his failed relationships, there for him when Fern had passed. I was there when Jake had passed. It was hard for me too, but I could tell that it hit Finn the worst. He acted like his old kid self once more, carefree like nothing mattered. Deep down, I feared that one day I'd lose him too, and everyday it seemed to be closer to reality. 

I steeped in my worry and fear as I disinfected his wounds. It felt suffocating in the tiny RV. Tears started to prickle my eyes as I kept thinking of all the scenarios in which I could lose Finn. I loved him, I loved him so much it hurt. And I knew he loved me…but I always felt like some shadow. Someone he took for granted. I don’t think I can watch him hurt himself like this anymore. 

Normally, Finn would be rambling about the adventure he had gone on before, but he was being silent. And I wasn’t willing to talk. After I finished bandaging it, I stood up, needing to be alone.

“(N/n)?” Finn questioned, looking over to me. I pursed my lips, staying silent. I know it's petty, and wrong, but I really wasn’t in the mood for anything. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Finn asked, coming up and putting a hand on my shoulder. 

I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, clenched my fists, and replied venomously, “You.”

“What?” He asked shocked, hurt lacing his voice. It pained my heart that I was the cause, but these feelings were boiling over.

“You keep getting hurt!” I cried out, finally turning to face him with tears falling down my cheeks. “You go on these stupid ‘adventures’, and each time you leave I wonder if it’s going to be the last time I see your stupid smile! I know you’re hurting Finn, I am too, but this isn’t healthy. For either of us. 

I’m gonna head out for a bit. I don’t know when I’ll be back, I just need to clear my head.”

“(Y-y/n), wait!” Finn cried out. “We…let's talk this out. Please don’t leave.”

I felt my heart crack even more as his voice cracked, but I needed to stay strong. I turn to Finn and hug him, because no matter how much he’s hurting me, he also makes me feel better. 

I lean up and kiss his cheek softly, “I’m sorry Finn, I just need some space. I think we could both use some time to think.”

Letting go of him, I put together some of my stuff that I’d need. He only watched solemnly as I bid him goodbye. I based my life around Finn’s, I always have. I always put him first…this time, I’m doing what's best for me. As I kept walking, I realized I wasn’t sure where to go. As I wondered, I seemed to have subconsciously made my way to the old tree house. A new one seemed to be growing, the remnants of Fern.

I sat down and leaned against the tree.

“Oh Fern,” I mumbled as I looked across the sunset. 

Fern, being a version of Finn, actually saw me. We were both hidden in Finn’s shadow, albeit in separate ways. I remember when he asked me “How do you deal with Finn never seeing you?” and he apologized for his old selfish behavior. I felt bonded to Fern, like we were two sides to the same coin. He saw me, asked what I wanted to do, tried to participate in my hobbies, and in return I tried to help him find out who he was. 

I was gutted when he died. And like I always do, I hid my emotions. Pretended like I was fine. Thankfully with some therapy, I was able to move on. I still love Fern, but I know he wouldn’t want me to stumble my way through life in sadness. 

“You know, you’d be really disappointed in me,” I chuckled under my breath. I gently patted the grass, feeling my eyes water once more. “I’m still letting Finn trample over me without him even knowing.”

The grass swayed gently and I smiled somberly, “And I’m still talking to you like you’d hear it.” 

I sat there for hours, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. I let my eyes close, a wave of fatigue hitting me like a truck. I felt safe, even if I was out in the open, it felt like I had Fern by my side, watching over me. I laid down on the grass to get more comfortable, using my bag like a pillow. 

“Goodnight Fern.”

…

The smell of sizzling pancakes woke me up. I shifted into a more comfortable position, the soft sheets lulling me into sleep once more. Wait…sheets? I opened my eyes slowly, taking in my surroundings. I was back in the RV. Sitting up, I looked towards the kitchen part and saw Finn at the stove. 

“Crap!” He whisper-yelled as a slightly burnt pancake hit the plate. 

“Finn?” I asked, confused as to why I was back in the RV. I wasn’t sure if I dreamed the previous fight up, or if I should be angry for him finding me…or if I should be touched. 

“Shoot!” He exclaimed, hiding the plate behind his back. I blinked, waiting for him to explain himself.

He looked around nervously, “I was gonna surprise you with breakfast in bed…” I stayed silent, not sure how to feel. “I…I didn’t like leaving things the way they were. I went to the Candy Kingdom, Marcy’s place and…I got really…I was scared when they didn’t know where you were. So I went to the only other place I could think of and found you sleeping outside…I-I couldn’t leave you there…”

That stupid bubbly feeling warmed me up at his confession. I looked to the side, fiddling with the sheets. Finn sat the plate down, turned the stove off, and came over to sit on the bed opposite of mine. He placed his arms on his thighs and looked down.

“I’m sorry,” He broke the silence once more. “I know that can’t fix everything…but I really, truly am sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you. Ever since…” His voice grew shaky. “Ever since Jake passed…I’ve felt like I’ve got nothin left.” My heart squeezed at his admission, feeling hurt that once again he didn’t see me.

“I’m so stupid for only seeing you once you’ve left,” Finn continued, eyes meeting mine. “I can’t believe you’ve stayed with me for so long when all I’ve done is donk up with you. I understand if you want to leave again…honestly you should. But if you do stay, I promise I’ll treat you right this time.”

Not able to hold myself back, I leaped over and engulfed him in a bear hug. 

“You big dummy!” I wailed into his shoulder. “I care for you so much Finn. I don’t want to leave you, I just can’t stand seeing you get hurt. I’ll stay forever, just as long as you promise to stay safe. Don’t go on those stupid adventures when you don’t wanna think or talk about something. I’m here to listen, and I want to help. I love you.”

I gasped for breath as he squeezed me back, tears falling into my hair, “I love you too. I love you, I love you, I love you!”

I couldn’t help myself as I laughed giddily. I pulled back just enough to kiss Finn all over his face who joined me in my laughter. I ended the assault with a final kiss to his lips, putting all the love I could muster into it. One of Finn’s hands tangled into my hair, his prosthetic arm snug around my waist. 

Pulling away, Finn held the brightest grin on his face, “Let’s go on an Adventure!”

“I’m going to kill you.”

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

We've seen Jaune's extended family and We've seen _NPR's extended family....

BUT

What about Ozpin's extended family? I can totally see Gojo and Raiden (MGRR) being openly related to Ozpin. Gojo would DEFINITELY try and hit on Glynda just to piss of Ironwood lmao

Hmm. I dunno about Raiden. It's not just about looks, it's also about Powers, Vibes, and fighting style. Gojo Makes sense, Raiden feels more like a Schnee Cousin or one of Adam's relatives.

~~~~~

Yang: There's no way they're younger than 55.

Nora: Look at them! Look at their smooth skin and brilliant smiles and tell me that they're old!

Ozpin: Frieren, it has been too long since we last talked.

Frieren: It has been. You seem to be doing well.

Ozpin: Indeed I am. My apprentice has been doing well.

Frieren: Oh yes, that Pine boy. How old is he now?

Ozpin: Uhh ... Fourteen I believe.

Frieren: Hmm. "Time does Fly" as they say.

Ozpin: How has Fern Been?

Frieren: Very well. Developing into a fine young woman.

Ozpin: ...

Frieren: ... Your students are following us.

Ozpin: I'm quite aware.

*Bush_Rustle.MP3*

Ozpin: And now, they are not.

Frieren: I can tell. I can also tell that you are Tired.

Ozpin: I have been tired for a long time.

Frieren: ...

Ozpin: ...

Frieren: I will find a way to free you. I haven't stopped looking.

Ozpin: I know. And you know what I'll tell you about that, right?

Frieren: "I know how to free myself, I'm still just figuring it out."

Ozpin: It's good to know your memory hasn't faded with age.

Frieren: I'd say the same, but your wit is lacking it's sharpness, you foolhardy coot.

Ozpin: What can I say? It is nice to see an old friend after so many years.

Frieren: *smiling in silence*

Ozpin: *Smiling with her*

???: *Distantly* EXPLOOOOSION!

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM*

Ozpin: Ah, It seem is I may need to check on another visitor. Apologies for cutting our time short, but I know well we are not lacking in it's supply. Good day.

Frieren: A good day to you as well Ozma.

~~~~~

Gojo: *Laying on Ozpin's desk* Hey Hey! If it isn't the most Cursed man himself, and I've got to say, you are looking pretty alright for your age.

Ozpin: Thank you Mister Satoru. Please get out of my office.

Gojo: I'm just checkin' in, making sure you don't have anything you shouldn't. Your office seems clean!

Ozpin: I should certainly hope so. Glynda!

Gojo: Hey hey hey, There's no need to be so rough with your Cousin!

Glynda: *Lifting Gojo with her semblance* You know you aren't supposed to be in here.

Gojo: *Not resisting her* Fine, I'll go at the request of such a gorgeous lady~

Glynda: *Flinging him into the elavator* Out.

Gojo: Wait a minute!

Ozpin: WHAT!

???: *Distantly* EXPLOOOOSION!

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM*

Gojo: You should go check on that.

Glynda: ... That girl is infuriating.

Ozpin: Not as much as her teammates.

~~~~~~

Marcille: *Shoveling food into her mouth*

Ozpin: You must be hungry.

Marcille: *Gulp* For something Normal? Absolutely! This is like a Cheat day without Senshi to scold me for eating things that aren't balanced. *Overdramatic Sniffle* It's been so long since I had chocolate ...

Ozpin: Well ... just try not to overeat. I know it can be tempting to have more than your fill of luxury, but do try not to make yourself ill.

Marcille: ... *Sigh* Fine. How have you been?

Ozpin: Tired, but things have been improving. It is nice to see you again my dear.

Marcille: "My Dear"? You are old.

Ozpin: Yes, yes I am. How has Falin been recovering?

Marcille: Fairly well, Laios has been by her side day and night. He's not been sleeping well, and when he does he has nightmares. I worry for him.

Ozpin: Ah yes, I have a current student that is quite like Mr Touden, though he is a bit more charming with people.

Marcille: "A bit?"

Ozpin: Yes, He's not as well read, but he is somewhat better at reading people-

???: *Distantly* EXPLOOOOSION!

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM*

Ozpin: *White Knuckling Long Memory* I swear if my hair wasn't already white- I'm afraid I have to go check Someone Marcille. Please eat until you're full and comfortable, then give Falin, Laios, Senshi, and Chilchuck my greetings and well wishes.

~~~~~

???: Excuse me Headmaster Ozpin, I have an Inquiry.

Ozpin: Oh- Oh hello. I see my reputation proceeds me, What is you're name miss ...

2B: I am referred to as 2B. I am searching for one "Pietro Polendina."

Ozpin: He'll be with the Atlesians, over-

???: EXPLOOOOSION!

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM*

Ozpin: WHERE IS SHE!

2B: *Sword at the ready* The source of that detonation came from that direction.

Ozpin: Thank you! I will handle this myself, you may go.

2B: Is that an Order?

Ozpin: Yes!

2B: *Sheathing her sword* Very well.

~~~~~

???: Move it Kazuma!

Kazuma: I'm going, I'm going! Calm down.

Ozpin: You two!

Megumin: Aw crud

Ozpin: Have you been launching those explosions off?

Kazuma: Megumin has. Why?

Ozpin: You've been causing disturbances, damaging property, and driving me to near madness!

Kazuma: Well Megumin said she she got perm-

Kazuma: You lied didn't you?

Megumin: ... I didn't think anyone would care ...

Kazuma: Really? Again Megumin!

Ozpin: Mr. Sato, please go on back the dormitories. I will take the young mage here to be written up for her infractions and returned to her cousins.

Kazuma: *Dropping her* Alright, sounds good to me.

Megumin: Jerk!

Ozpin: Come on, Let's get you back to Miss Rose and Miss Xiao-long.

Megumin: *Grumble*

[theposeknowsart]

April 14th, 2024:

Some people are normal and some people have mushroom!Fern brain rot. This is the exact expression. I make every time I think of them btw

[quosterswampdregs]

Looks like Nolki won the fic poll! And funny enough, I actually have a 2-year-old fic about Nolki and two normal-sized canines that I realize I NEVER posted!! So here you all go, featuring Nolki, Kyle, and Morse: A camping trip goes wayward when one of them makes a discovery...

"Kyle!! You’ll never believe what I’ve found!”

An arctic fox came jogging out of the shrouded lodgepole pine forest, shrugging off his traveling backpack in favor of a metallic water bottle to press up to his maw. Morse, exhausted from his morning run, had stirred the restless dingo from his camping tent, who peered lazily at the canopy of lush greens and yellows. A proud mountain rested over the crowns of conifers, which all leaned towards the east in a lazy stretch, before stiffening out westward. Strange winds, warm winds, too.

Kyle, equipped in a simple tee and cargo shorts, pushed himself up fully after supporting his upper weight with his forearms. The dingo uttered to himself with great disinterest—what had his friend’s tail flying with great vigor behind him, anyway?

“Why bring it up if I won’t believe it?” Yawned Kyle to Morse, “what, you found another toad in your tent? Good morning, by the way.”

“No no no, I swear it’s more interesting than that, by a long shot!”

“Wh…whhyyy, are your pants covered in dirt? The sun’s barely up and you’ve gotten yourself into something.”

“Augh!!” Morse curled his upper lip and his large ears found their gravity. Kyle gave a start as he was suddenly taken by the wrist and dragged forward by his shorter friend, who was pawing through the dense foliage from the way he came. He still had his water bottle clenched in the leading hand, using it to nudge away stems of ferns and undergrowth. “It’s just gonna be easier if I show you!”

“H-hwuh?! Hey!! Wait!”

Easier, sure, but damn, nothing could have ever prepared Kyle for what sat before him. Only after sampling mouthfuls of forest leaves and branches from being dragged by the paw by little Morse, did Kyle stare forward, aghast with curiosity. In a secondary clearing, only ten minutes of a stride away was a large, chartreuse mass sitting proudly, tucked away neatly with surrounding foliage and trees. Two caverns, both exerting waves of warmth at uneven intervals, sat side by side; caverns by the likes of which Kyle had never seen before. Whatever this was, it seemed almost alive—fleshy, hued in a mossy green tone, and leaking with some sort of liquid that slickened the pinkening walls further back.

A sudden ripple of air combed past the gawking canid and the vulpine, drawing leaves from trees and ferns into the dark depths before them. All of the trees leaned in as if listening in for the gossip of the woods, before relaxing and pointing back to the sky—Kyle, transfixed, watched the leaves spill out lazily against the trembling walls.

“Alright…” Kyle fixed his shark-tooth necklace against his shirt, and Morse shouldered his hexagonal gold-wire glasses further on his face, “Morse, I dunno what the hell you found, but it’s cool…”

“What did I tell you!?” The arctic fox leaped at such a statement, rushing forward to one of the two caverns. It was about five feet in height, which meant that Morse could barely stand up fully once he clambered onto the fleshy surface that sank under his weight. He kept his ears down, as pointing them caused them to brush up against the ceiling.

“No ifs or hows or alsos, you’re just…! Going in?”

“I mean, sure…!” Morse’s voice echoed by the time his tail slipped in after and snuck into one of the trembling caverns, “I wanna know what’s back here!”

Well, peer pressure had its rules, did it not? Kyle was trying his best to speak logistics, but ironically, he was muttering them out as he hoisted himself into the slick, soft, and warm cavern after his friend. It was weird, very weird; to his touch, the ground sank, and the entrance of the cavern lost its solid composure, expanding once, twice, thrice…? And relaxing. Or at least, shrinking again. Thick, clear slime accumulated on the roof of the cave, and Kyle had to hunch down on his hands and knees to avoid touching most of it. His tail dragged along the base of the area around him, and at one point, a shuddering jolt made him flatten out on his stomach, winding himself completely. 

“Yeesh, Morse, it looks like it narrows way up there!!” Kyle huffed in an attempt to catch his breath, seeing that the arctic fox crouched at a certain section with a dip, pinching off the way further—save for a one-foot-tall gap. Morse crouched, lifting his wagging tail that brushed against the slick walls, causing them to visually react and wrinkle away from the featherlight touches. Kyle stumbled uneasily while the floor began to move.

“Morse?”

“I think I could—ngh—squeeeeze in there if I really tried, looks roomy on the other side!”

Not that Kyle had any time to object before he was wiggling and thrashing, kicking his little paws as he tried to worm his way through the crevice offered by this strange cavern. Kyle opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden blast of air came from behind him, throwing him forward against his friend’s backside, who yipped with the accompaniment of a noise only comparable to a vacuum tube being shoved up to a latex balloon.

“Holy hell!!” Kyle shrieked and staggered back, watching Morse’s lower half writhe and kick with confusion. “Morse!! Morse, you good buddy?? What the—?!”

“Mmrggh! Mngghghhh!!”

“What??”

“Mmrkay!!”

“You’re good?” Kyle stammered, receiving a wagging tail in response. Talk about winds today, what on earth?! “-uhhhhh, well! Good. Lemme pull you out…”

Or at least, make an attempt to. His fur had slickened with the strange…mucus-like slime, so his grip wasn’t half the strength it could be. That, and well, telling by the thrashing and little kicks of desperation, he was pretty stuck either way. There was no way he could get him out, not like this.

“Hmm..we got rope back at camp…! I could try to pull you out that way…are you good with waiting like, twenty minutes?” He offered, receiving a noise of acknowledgment and a wagging tail. Kyle nodded—not quite sure why, given his friend couldn’t see him. “Don’t go anywhere!! Not that I think you will!”

Kyle fled from the cave, surprised by the warmth the outside world offered. As promised, he grabbed his bag from his tent, looking to the tree crowns with the two, brown mountains in the near distance.

Two? He swore there was only one before…one of them flicked, mountains don’t flick, Kyle’s ear flicked back as a natural response.

“Mnuhhh…?”

The sound was absolutely tremendous. Kyle wasn’t expecting it, but he watched in fear as flocks of birds fled from the crowns of pine trees. It was coming from whence the dingo came—a beast of some sorts? He took his defense kit with him, grabbing a stray leafy pine branch off of a tree as he bolted after it. Whatever it was, he couldn’t leave Morse stuck in a cave while that thing was roaming around.

“Hey!” He called in a deep bark, charging through the undergrowth with his pine-needle-twig in hand, “you leave my fr…?”

Nothing, just the flaring and trembling caverns before him, sat upon a row of pearly white teeth, green gums, and a tongue that slipped out past the front teeth to shove and lick against a thin but sturdy septum. The line of its septum was unmoving, allowing the skin of its nostrils to envelop the tip of its tongue, before both caverns—both nostrils, hastily flared and shrank, sniffling and snorting with massive irritation. Those weren’t caves, this was a nose that belonged to the steady, sturdy muzzle of some macro canid..! Kyle, quickly turning pink under his fur, took a few hasty steps back. If that was the case, Morse was in there!

“hhHehh..?! HhhHEH?! EHhhschhuhhw!!”

Barely having any time to react, a forceful sneeze caused Kyle to fall flat on his tail, misted over by a spray of warmth and moisture. It dispersed like a morning fog, leaving his fur standing on end.

“A-! Woah! Hey hey hey!!” Kyle attempted shakily, rushing forward to grab the Macro’s septum with both his paws. He gulped as peach-toned fur and thick whiskers led the way for the green eyes that lazily and tearfully fluttered open. “Easy big guy!! Don’t uhhh…! Don’t panic!!”

See, this wasn’t Kyle’s first encounter with macros; they tended to roam these areas, and Kyle had had a few close encounters with them…don’t ask. Or do, he just won’t tell.

“Udh…mnhHhgh??” uttered the macro, whose gaping nostrils flared to reveal poor Morse, his upper half still stuck, tail thrashing about with defiance. He had his feet planted though, which meant he had slipped out a little! His tail was wagging high, high enough to spark a light bulb in Kyle's head.

Oh, how incriminating this was, Kyle was blushing at the thought—if he could tickle the nose of this big guy, a good sneeze could set his friend free—not often would he get such an excuse to do this, but hey! When the opportunity strikes.

“Yeah, that’s my buddy. I’m gonna get him out, okay?”

He couldn’t tell if his tiny voice could even register, but Kyle stepped into the flaring nostril nonetheless. The twig in his hand was brushing feverishly along the responsive, trembling nasal walls, his tail coaxing against his inner septum with all of his strength and irritability. 

“Hehh…h-h-hHdhk! Hhuhh?”

The sound was frantic and desperate, reverberating all around him in this tunnel of irritation. With his free, remaining hand, he held onto Morse by the base of his tail, guiding it to the tissue that had him pinned and stationary. It began to loosen as the nose flexed, and he was slowly slipping out against the suction he was bound to.

“Udh..hhuh…! HhHHUH- Hh-hhHUH!!”

“Please work…” wince Kyle, who braced for impact. He grit his teeth and pinned his ears in as much of a brace he could muster.

“Huh- hHUEESHHhhuhhw!!”

With enormous force, Kyle was launched out of one of the Macro’s nostrils, his arctic fox friend in tow. The two tumbled, end over end, and Morse was the first to sit up dizzily, coated in mucus and soggy leaves.

“Get down!!” Kyle hissed, grabbing Morse by the scruff and yanking them behind the bush as the Macro hazily stood to full height, towering hundreds of feet above the trees. Runny nose, lazy eyes, and a short, tucked tail. He rubbed his nose from above, wiping his palm on his chest fur with a bit of confusion. He likely didn’t even notice them, by the tells of it, given how he quietly and begrudgingly lumbered away.

“Morse…?” Whispered Kyle, laughing to himself with an exasperated face.

“Uh-huh…?” The fox was on the ground, staring up at the sky with shock.

“Remind me to second-guess things more, if you would?”

[betterthanyalls]

Cheese I can't remember if you already did something like this so if u have feel free to ignore or just be like "erm I already did this actually🤓" but

TQuesters x fem/GN! reader (can either be platonic or x various, your choice) and it's just them all spending Christmas together in Modi's kingdom (or wherever this takes place idk) sitting by the fireplace or decorating the Christmas tree n allat, and y/n is like "damn I can't believe it's been this long" and it's just overall a very warm, cozy yet bittersweet nostalgia kinda thing as y/n thinks about all of their past adventures with all of her toon friends that they've made ever since this whole thing started ^^"

Once again don't feel pressured to do this especially if you've already done something similar and my dumbahh just forgot about it lol

YES YES YES ok so i mayyyy have gotten off track here BUT I HOPE ITS OK ALSO THANK YOU THIS WAS SO FUN TO MAKE AND MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS if you celebrate it :) I HAD SUCH A GREAT CHRISTMAS AND I HOPE YOU ALL DID TOO THIS IS THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL Taglist @cherryinsalemverse

Masterlist

Winter Wonders

Various x Reader

Toon Quest ~ Oneshot ~ Christmas Special Words: 2.9K Published: 12-25-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You should’ve stopped when you could,” Bendy hissed with utter malice.

“Bendy… please. You don't have to do this,” the human girl pleaded desperately, trying to make her friend see the truth.

“You brought this on yourself.”

And with those words, the ink demon struck.

Plus four.

“I win,” Bendy grinned, laying down the +4 Wild card as his last turn.

“NOOOOO,” Y/n wailed, falling backwards from her cross-legged position on the hardwood flooring of the palace.

Their companions cheered at the game finally being won. Playing Uno with four humans and seven toons took quite a while. Meek and Don were sitting next to Ruck, who refused to play, on a couch with Felix on the other side. Cuphead sat with Mugman beside Y/n on the floor together. Bendy sat with Lucy next to him on the floor across from Y/n. Behind him, Oswald, Donald, and Panchito were distracted in their own conversations.

“You played horribly. Who taught you?” Ruck piped up from his seat. Although he ridiculed the teenager, there was no true irritation in his tone, but a smirk on the man’s lips. 

“Oh, shut up, old man. You didn’t even play,” Y/n complained playfully with a grin.

“I would beat you all; that’s why I didn’t play. It would’ve been too easy to win,” Ruck shrugged, leaning back into the couch.

Right as Y/n sat up, Lucy perked up with an idea.

“How about we all go into town? The winter festivities are taking place today!” Lucy clapped her hands in excitement. 

~~~

“How many festivals does this place have?” Cuphead muttered in awe, looking around at the seemingly transformed town.

Strung lights decorated every pillar, windowsill, gutter, and more. A grand tree stood up sturdy in the center of the town square, snow lying gently on its evergreen branches. Or, assumed evergreen. With how foreign the land was, it could be almost anything. Anyways, ornaments and even more lights were hung carefully into the flooding greens and whites of the flora. A bright, glimmering star sat on top of the fern, giving off a radiating glow.

Honestly, it was pure magic how the world was still visible as if the town wasn’t a current replica of the sun's brightness.

“You do this every year?” Oswald asked, wincing every now and then at the flashing bulbs.

“Yup! Each year the kingdom comes together to celebrate. It’s a breathtaking experience,” Lucy grinned, her smile almost as bright as the fluorescents. Did they even have fluorescent lights here? What made these things light up? Oh well, no worries about that thought.

“Ruck would have a heart attack if he saw all this,” Y/n muttered to Donald, who held back his own laughs. Ruck, Meek, and Don had all stayed back at the castle like normal.

“Go explore! Oh, the kingdom will adore having you all here!” Lucy chirped, having an arm wrapped around Bendy’s and strolling off. The ink toon didn’t seem to even want to leave the princess. 

Cuphead cheered at the idea of freedom and instantly bolted, Mugman in tow to keep his brother safe. 

“I don’t know how successful Mugman will be at keeping his brother safe,” Felix sighed with an amused smile, following the cups.

Donald had also already left beforehand when Lucy mentioned boat painting, dragging Panchito with him. This left Oswald and Y/n together, just like the last festival.

“This seems familiar,” Oswald joked, referencing the Namahadi Festival. Y/n smiled at the comparison. 

“Let’s hope we don’t meet Stinks this time,” she laughed softly as they both began their trek. A soft blanket of snow covered the ground, but there wasn’t a chill in the air.

The sound of bells jingling broke through their conversation. In front of the duo, an ivory horse was trotting along with a green wreath around its neck. Behind the steed, a sleigh was being pulled with an old toon holding the reins above. A sign hung on the side of the sleigh’s door reading ‘Free Sleigh Rides.’

Oswald and Y/n turned to each other with similar smiles.

“I think we’ve just found our first activity,” the rabbit offered.

~~~

The sleigh ride took them on a trail through the forest, allowing the toon and human great scenery. All seemed perfect— 

WHOOSH

A snowball flew between Oswald and Y/n, hitting the driver square in his head and knocking him off the sleigh. The sudden movement jostled the reins of the horse, frightening the beast.

In an instant, with no hesitation, the horse took off, dragging the duo behind it. 

Oswald and Y/n grabbed each other without a second thought, screaming in terror as the horse weaved through trees and around bends. The sleigh tipped side to side, threatening to flip over any second.

“THE REINS!!” Oswald shouted over the rushing wind.

“WHAT?”

Before Oswald could explain, the horse took another turn, speeding towards a young girl walking down the trails. Instinctively, Y/n jumped forwards and grabbed the whipping reins, managing to move the horse in another direction. Yet their speed never slowed.

With her upper half leaning over the driver's seat and her legs still in the sleigh, Y/n tried her best to slow the horse, but to no avail. They were riding straight into town. Oswald pushed the human to the front seats before hopping up next to her himself. He grabbed the reins with her, attempting to help steer.

“WHERE’S YOUR LUCK?” Y/n yelled above the galloping animal.

“I DON’T KNOW,” was all Oswald could spit out. The horse whipped its neck round and round to shake the reins off, only making the two drivers get flung more. 

Finally the sleigh arrived back in town, but not in the way that anyone would’ve liked. Oswald and Y/n were speeding down the streets, screaming in pure terror as they narrowly missed dozens of civilians. As they raced through crowds, Y/n turned to her right just in time to make eye contact with their other companions, who were staring in pure confusion and horror.

The human’s focus quickly changed when Oswald yelled again.

“WALL!”

Sure enough, directly in front of them was a brick wall. The horse wasn’t slowing down either. With only a few feet before collision, the animal took another turn. The sleigh tipped until it was practically perpendicular with the ground. Y/n and Oswald managed to stay on as the vehicle slammed back down properly with even more speed. 

Before any other words could be uttered, the horse whipped its direction around at full speed, causing both toon and human to fly out of the sleigh. Y/n managed to land face first in a large pile of snow, covering herself completely. Oswald, ironically, was not so lucky as he got stuck in the low-hanging branches of a tree.

The rabbit groaned in pain with stars dancing around his head and ears, leaning his head back slightly into the trunk. Bad move.

Without warning, the branches snapped, making him fall down into the snow, next to Y/n.

Y/n finally managed to pull herself from the frigid substance, turning to look at Oswald with a small pile of snow on top of her head. The toon was in the same predicament, looking to Y/n with snow covering his face. 

At an irritatingly slow pace, the snow slid down his face with Y/n laughing at the scene. 

“Are—haha—are you alright?” Y/n asked between her chuckles.

“Just perfect,” Oswald grumbled, though a smile formed on his lips.

“What happened?!” The familiar voice of their favorite cat cut their discussion short. Looking up from where they both still sat in the snow, Oswald and Y/n watched their friends come rushing over.

“A horse went rogue on us,” Y/n shrugged, making Felix give her an incredulous look before putting his hand out for her to grab. The human stood up, brushing the extra snow from her clothes with a shiver. She looked over to Oswald, who was helped up by Panchito.

“You two aren’t allowed to go together alone again. Something always happens,” Bendy scolded, making Y/n and Oswald share a glance. Lucy, who was still hanging on his arm, nodded in agreement, looking Y/n up and down to see if there were any injuries. 

“Fine,” Y/n agreed, though she wasn’t too hung up on it. Her and Oswald would find ways to hang out no matter what.

“There was an ice sculpture walk-through nearby,” Mugman pointed out. “You could come with Felix and me, Y/n.”

Y/n debated the idea in her mind, but realizing she didn’t have many other options, she agreed.

“Alright, let’s go,” the human nodded gratefully. 

The trio waved goodbye to the rest of their group before walking towards the sculpture section of the festival.

~~~

“There is absolutely no way they made this by hand.” Y/n raised an eyebrow at an ice sculpture. It depicted an almost realistic Christmas tree, ornaments, lights, the star, everything. 

“Hey, look at that one!” Mugman pointed to a nearby ice statue. It was Y/n. If it wasn’t a blue hue and made of frozen water, that sculpture would’ve looked identical to Y/n.

“What are they feeding these people?!” Y/n exclaimed, looking closely at every detail the carver made. They made the ice look like the genuine fabric of her clothes. 

Felix didn’t even seem to have an explanation like usual. Instead, he was looking at a different form of ice. Following his gaze, the human saw an ice model of their group.

“This is insane,” Y/n muttered in awe.

The trio continued walking around, finding a small game to replicate the poses themselves.

The trio took photos and laughed at each other’s postures.

There were a few different scenes, like Y/n balancing on Mugman’s shoulders, Felix doing a handstand on top of Y/n’s hands as she held the cat up, or Felix holding Mugman up in the Dirty Dancing pose.

No matter what, the three companions had a blast. 

After a while and finishing their walk-through, they decided to leave the ice sculpture area. It wasn’t long before Panchito and Donald appeared behind Y/n. Felix and Mugman were in their own discussion, too distracted to notice.

Before any conversation could be uttered, Panchito dragged Y/n away quickly with a grin.

“Wh- Panchito?” Y/n asked once they were away from the two nerds.

“Lo siento, querida. We need three people for sledding, and we couldn’t find anyone else,” Panchito explained quickly, still dragging Y/n along with Donald next to him.

“Sledding?” Y/n tilted her head quizzically. Her question was answered as soon as Panchito let her go. Standing above a really steep drop, the three arrived at a sledding post with big tubes. A sign nearby read, ‘Three Persons Per Tube.’

“I see,” Y/n nodded with a smile.

Looking at the line, the three noticed how long it truly was and how slow it was. After waiting for a few minutes without the line even moving, the trio began to get antsy.

“What if we just go?” Donald suggested.

“Leaving would be boring,” Y/n pointed out, inferring that’s what he meant.

“No, not leaving the place. But the line. We can easily slip up there,” Donald explained, making Panchito get excited.

“Like spies!” The rooster beamed.

Y/n was a little weary about cutting. But her opinion quickly changed when she saw an empty tube not too far ahead.

“Fine, but we got to be quick,” she agreed. Looking around cautiously, the trio made a full sprint towards the free tube. Jumping onto it, the three sighed in relief when no one said anything to them. 

Y/n and the toons settled inside the tube before spotting a note on the side. ‘Follow the instructions given by the operator. Death is avoidable.’

Y/n turned to her friends slowly. 

“There are instructions?”

But before any of them could try to get help from the operator, the tube tipped forwards and began to slowly glide towards the edge of the hill.

“Death?!” Donald quacked, finally finished with reading the warning.

Opposite to his companions, Panchito merely cheered in excitement as the tube reached the edge. His cheers turned into disappointment when the inflatable vehicle came to a stop. 

Y/n and Donald sighed in relief.

“That was—” Donald couldn’t finish his sentence as the air-filled sled fell at full speed down the snowy hill. 

Screams filled the air, challenging the volume of the rushing wind. Since they chose a random tube, the three weren’t even on the proper path for sledding. 

“AAAAAAAAA” “WOOOOOO”

Two very different emotions were held by the three beings. 

Racing past civilians and objects, the sled was spinning in circles while still going down.

A giant stone was placed in the direction of their path. Without giving them a chance to panic, the tube hit the rock and was launched into the air. Their screams were suffocated by the vigorous winds. 

Looking down to where they’d land, Y/n got a split-second view of a certain skunk before hitting him head-on with the sled. Stinks fell into the snow with a yelp, lifting his head above to scream at the already speeding away sled.

“VENDOLEZ, YOU PIECE OF—” His screams turned into his native language, but the trio was too far from hearing range as they blasted through groups of people.

It wasn’t long before they finally slowed to a stop at the bottom of the hill. 

Panchito got out of the tube happily, like he did this all the time. Y/n and Donald were stunned for a moment. 

“We just hit Stinks with a sled,” Y/n murmured in shock before a large grin broke out onto her lips.

She got up, and Panchito grabbed her hands, dancing around excitedly at all the adrenaline. Y/n laughed and jumped with him as Donald stumbled out of the sled and threw up off to the side. 

When they all calmed down, another voice broke their joy.

“VENDOLEZ, I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU.”

Stinks was roughly 100 feet away with his friends, all radiating pure malice and hatred. 

Without waiting for her friends, Y/n turned and took off running. 

She heard her rival and his gang pushing through the other civilians, chasing her with no hesitation. Y/n managed to take too many turns for them to keep up, losing the hunting toons in a large crowd.

Y/n grinned behind her before running straight into another body. 

“Y/n?”

Y/n backed up and saw she ran right into Bendy.

“What are you running from?” The ink demon asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Stinks,” the human shrugged like it was a usual thing now. 

Bendy just nodded, understanding the situation quickly. 

“Well, Lucy just left to go meet her father again. So I have some free time; wanna go explore?” Bendy filled her in before his offer.

Y/n had literally nothing better to do than hide from Stinks, so she nodded to go along with her friend.

“So, any ideas on where to go?” Y/n asked as they began walking together.

“There was a light walk-through not too far from here,” Bendy told her.

“Then let’s go.”

~~~

It didn’t take long for the toon and human to reach the light walk-through, only to be met with a familiar ceramic.

“Heya, doll, Bendy,” Cuphead greeted excitedly. Bendy wanted to scoff but didn’t say anything.

“Hey Cuphead, we were just going to walk through. Do you want to come with?” Y/n offered. Bendy had the all-too-well-known urge to strangle his companion for the offer.

“Sure!’ Cuphead bounded next to them.

The trio walked for a bit. Cuphead tried to put an arm around Bendy, only for the ink demon to shove the dish away and into a bush. The inky toon grinned at Cuphead’s fallen form.

A little further in and towards the end, Cuphead and Bendy were walking behind Y/n. The toons were roughhousing without her noticing. Just as Bendy was about to push Cuphead to the ground, he got distracted.

Cuphead got out of the position and prepared to push Bendy in return, only to follow his teammate's gaze.

Y/n stood with her back to them, watching the colored lights twinkle. The illumination lit up her features as she turned back to look at the boys with a smile. Her eyes shone bright in the setting, radiance and glory emanating from her expression. 

Cuphead felt his entire being melt at the sight. Bendy was in a similar situation. Y/n had no mark of a warrior now but a goddess.

With what felt like eons but was only seconds, Bendy tore his gaze away and cleared his throat while nudging Cuphead.

“Well, I believe the others are waiting for us at the castle now,” Bendy excused.

~~~

Laughter and chattering arose from a candlelit room. At a long dining table sat six humans and seven toons, all eating and talking joyously.

Y/n was telling Ruck all about her day and everything they did, including driving a runaway sleigh and hitting Stinks with a sled. The older man smiled at his great-niece, ruffling her hair in admiration. 

Everything was great once again. No worries, no terror, no adrenaline. Just one big family bond holding differing people together.

A loud bang sounded, making every being look at the windows instantly. Outside, crackling in the sky, fireworks rained down. Slowly, some of the group made their way to the windows to watch the celebrations light up the night sky.

Nothing could break this moment of harmony. 

Merry Christmas.

[the-possum-writes]

Hiiii!! I just finished watching AT again, and i been loking for some FinnxReaderxFern fics, and i read ur at content and i just love it.So i was hopping if i could request a fic where Finn and Fern has this, confrontation? Jelousy talk? about each other's feelings about reader!!

You can Say no if you don't wanna do it, but i would really apreciated<3.

[Confronting their feelings about you]

❥Character(s): Finn, Fern

❥Tags: SFW, canon typical violence, expressing emotions, gender neutral pronouns for the reader

 ❥Synopsis: What started as a simple afternoon dedicated to cleaning turned into a short lived but intense knife fight when you came up as a conversation topic.

 ❥Wordcount: 1000

❥A/N: I want this gress boy to heal so i'll take whatever chance i get to write him learning to overcome his Finn jelousy.

❥Taglist: @foxpearlwilder

Today is a typical day for the guys; a knife storm has just passed, so they are calmly brushing away the residual weaponry from clogging the top of the treefort, like they do when there is hail or dry tree leaves. "There's less daggers compared to last time, makes ya wonder why huh Fern?" During the cleanup, Finn speaks aloud, the idea circling through his mind a few times

"Hmm, probably because of climate change." Fern disputes bluntly.

Finn pauses in his sweeping to glance up at the sky, contemplating to himself before offering his own two cents. "Or is it because the knife god is dissatisfied with the number of swords and knives forged this year? That the sword-smiths probably have a secret society where they sacrifice things in exchange for good materials." The longer the human boy rambles, the more Fern is interested by the explanation and begins unironically contributing his own perspective.

"What if the knife god sends us knives to test if they're nice and sharp?" The offer compels Fern to stop sweeping as well, although his reason for doing so is more of a curiosity to see if his human brother can figure out what he is thinking about. With them still being the same guy, Finn shares that challenging expression in his eye.

Fern swoops down and throws a knife at Finn, but the boy rolls to the side and retrieves a knife from the ground just in time to deflect the second knife thrown at him. Fern attempts to continue throwing blades at his playmate, but he only draws closer in range, forcing Fern to sidestep the pointy jabs directed at him as he grabs his own knife, and they begin sparring right there with the brooms long forgotten. They go at it for a while till Finn notices the sun leaning over the horizon and remembers something.

"Okay okay that's enough, let's wrap this up before the sun goes down."

"Got somewhere to go?" Fern asks as he hops from side to side, still energized from the spar.

"Yeup, a friend wants to collect kelp samples for a college project and I promised I'd help."

"Kelp samples?" Hah! That's boring..." His smile faded. "Wait.. you talking about the biology student that's always cooped up at Turtle P's library?"

Finn confirms, "That's the one." While the human boy skipped happily at the thought of you, Fern's jaw tightened as he felt an unpleasant stir in his chest. Finn had his back to Fern and was in the process of picking up his fallen broom when a knife imbedded itself just next him, missing his palm by only an inch.

"Who knowsss what kind of trouble you'll sstumble into when you're out there collecting kelp sssamples, you could get ambushed by kelpies or banditsss," the grass boy explains with a low tone and a snake whisp in his tongue before his voice shifted back to normal. "They are my friend too! and the last thing I want is to find out they got hurt because you weren't able to help. Now, pick up that knife and show me you can protect them from anyone and anything."

Finn considers the challenge, normally he'd never say no to one but he's grown familiar enough with Fern's mood swings to know it's that darn octopus messing up his head again, but if there's any best way to get it out of his system it's by sparring. With that goal in mind, Finn acepts the challenge even though it means fighting Fern when he's at his "most intense". The duel starts just like the previous one but the longer it went on the more Finn came to realize it no longer had the same playful approach as before, it became all the more apparent whenever Fern purposely scratches at him every time he left opening rather than playfully bump him with the butt of the dagger.

"They're my friend I'd never let anything happen to them!" Finn grinds his teeth as their blades collide.

"I knew them way before you did, i was gonna ask them out... before..." Fern stutters for a second, giving Finn the opportunity to kick him in the back of the knee and knock him down.

"Before you turned into a sword right?" Despite the takedown, Finn's tone softens as he assists his brother in standing up. "So that's what has you all jumbled up. Fern, remember what I said about bottling up your feelings?"

"That I should use my words." He nods like a scolded child.

"How about you share'em with me?" Finn held Fern in hug before giving him a much needed squooze.

Fern sighs. "You know more than anyone why I like them. And when I heard you were going out with them I guess I got a little jealous."

'Right just a bit,' Finn thought, but didn't dare to speak it out and upset his grass bro. "Have you considered asking them out yet?" The human youngster suggests, "You know, like on an actual date and not just collect samples." It sounds simple enough to him, but Fern's inner struggle makes it not so simple.

"I did. But after the whole "I turned into a sword and then the grass disaster," I had a feeling that they wouldn't even want to look at me." Fern deflates and drops down Finn's grip while he explains, but Finn holds him up again.

"Well, you'll never know unless you try it out!"

Fern turned his head in the direction of his human counterpart. "What? But what about YOU? I am sure you have a crush on them."

Finn scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, I do. They're really amazing with the knowledge they have about a bunch of stuff, however... I've already dunked on my other relationships, if anything I'll probably ruin this one too."

For once, Fern sees a part of himself in Finn that isn't just superficial similarities; the hesitance and self-doubt are all too familiar, and despite the little devil inside him telling him to exploit Finn's weakness, he instead tries to encourage him. "Finn, you're a great shot ."

A knock on the door and a doorbell ring from below the tree fort, followed by your familiar voice asking for someone to open it. The two brothers exchange glances before Fern breaks the silence. "How about we each take our shot and let them decide?" he asks, offering a peace deal with a handshake.

"Sounds good."

[lulublack90]

Prompt 6 - Amnesia AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 6, word count 997

He awoke on the cold hard ground. A stick prodding painfully into his back. His head was sore, and when he raised his hand, it came away covered in red blood. 

He looked around, but he didn’t know where he was. There were a lot of trees, so maybe a forest? 

He stood shakily. His legs felt like jelly. When he looked down at himself, he was naked. He didn’t even have socks. He shivered as a slight breeze picked up. He wrapped his arms around himself and started walking. He needed to find help. 

He stumbled upon a path as he pushed through a patch of soft ferns. He couldn’t feel his feet. They were numb. “That can’t be good.” He said to himself. 

Fat droplets of rain began to fall from the skies, catching on the tree’s leaves and dripping onto his head. 

“Hey, come back! Where are you going, you daft dog?!” The relative silence of the forest was broken by a man’s shout. Before he could even turn in the direction of the voice, he was knocked forcefully to the ground by a giant black dog. “Shit, Pads, get off him. I’m so sorry, he’s not normally like this—Er, why are you naked?” 

The dog was dragged off of him, and a hand was offered to help him off the ground. “So are you going to answer me then? Why are you naked?” The man asked again.

“I don’t know.” He said, realising he had no idea how he got there or why or anything else. 

“Okay. What’s your name? Where do you live?” They were simple questions, but they were only simple when you had the answers. 

“I-I-I don’t know,” He stammered. The rain on his face felt warm. He was crying. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” The stranger pulled his coat off and wrapped it around him. He felt instantly warmer. “Come on, the cars this way.” The stranger guided him as they hurried out of the rain. The big black dog followed behind him. 

The stranger started the car and turned the heater up full. Hot air gushed at him from the vents and warmed his shaking body. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” The stranger started talking again, putting the car into gear and driving away. “We’re gonna pop back to mine so I can drop off Pads, and then we’ll go to the hospital. You’ve got a nasty gash on your head that I think might need stitches.”

He rested his head on the headrest and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shaken awake. “Hey, wake up, we’re at the hospital.” He let the man guide him into the A&E entrance and sit him in one of the blue plastic chairs. 

“Hi, my name is Sirius Black, and I found this man in the woods. He doesn’t know who he is or where he lives, and he’s got a nasty cut on his head.” He leaned in closer to the woman at reception. “He was naked when I found him.” Her already interested face turned to shock as she peered around Sirius and looked at him sitting in his chair. She picked up her phone and spoke into it hurriedly.

Sirius came over to him and sat in the chair opposite. “They’re sending a doctor down now to see you. I can stay if you want. I’ve left my details with the nurse in case you want them.” Sirius smiled kindly at him. 

He shot his hands out and grasped Sirius’s. 

“Please don’t leave me, I’m scared.” He sounded panicked, and he felt it. 

“Okay, okay.” Sirius soothed, stroking his hands. “I won’t go anywhere.”

He was dragged into multiple rooms over the next few hours. First to be washed, and then he was given a hospital gown. Sirius’s coat was returned to Sirius, and then a doctor sat and stitched up his head. He was then led to a strange machine where he asked the same questions over and over again as it whirled around him.  

More exhausted now than he had been when Sirius found him. He gladly got into the offered bed that Sirius was sitting beside and waited for the doctor. 

He’d closed his eyes, too embarrassed to try and talk to Sirius, not that he remembered anything to talk about. 

“Oh, is he asleep?” The doctor asked when he pulled the privacy curtains back. He snapped his eyes open and waited for the doctor to continue talking. “Oh, you’re up, brilliant. So, the results from your tests look mostly positive. Your cuts, while deep, were superficial. I’m afraid you’ll have quite the scar after this. However, you appear to have amnesia. It might be temporary, but until we can do further testing, we won’t know.” He felt his face fall. Sirius reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We did, however, manage to identify you. We found you via your dental records. Your name is Remus John Lupin. You’ll be discharged in a few hours as long as there aren’t any problems, and we’ll arrange for you to come back for a check-up.” The doctor left.

“Well, at least we’ve got a name for you. Remus.” Sirius tested the name. “Remus. It suits you.” Sirius smiled. 

“Fat lot of help knowing my name when I can’t remember anything else. I don’t even know where I live. What am I meant to do?” He hung his head into his hands and let out a sob. 

“Don’t be daft. You’re coming home with me. I’ve got plenty of room. It’s only me and Pads since James moved out. You don’t have to worry, I promise.” And Remus may not have any memories, but he did know that Sirius felt safe. Remus squeezed Sirius’s hand. 

“Okay. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. Sirius beamed back at him with a dazzling smile.     

[mystery0028]

Frieren Timeline/Pacing

(Manga Spoilers at the very bottom)

Rewatching Frieren made me realize just how much thought the writer put into the pacing and timeline.

It feels like a slow-paced anime, but also time passes by really quick? Like the first episode literally shows a 50 year time skip? But is this really true?

50 years, 20 years, 4 years, 2 years, 6 months, about a year, around another year, 6 months,(Story Starts), 6 months, 2 months, 3-4 months.

Notice anything?

These are the timeskips/timelapses in the timeline. And as Frieren learns more about humans and learns to appreciate the present, the gaps get smaller and smaller, with the everyday being elaborated on more.

Now maybe that's not on purpose, but it certainly seems like it is. The thought and care to create such a subtle way to show Frieren's growth and understanding and appreciation of the NOW - all the while still reminding us of how old she is and how these years really aren't all that long to her in the grand scheme of things? Beautiful.

Expanded Timeline Given Below:

The first episode (1st manga chapter) starts with first a 50 year timelapse (Himmel dies at the end of this), and then a 20 year timeskip, before we end with Frieren deciding to stay with Heiter to translate a grimoire even though it could take 5 or 6 years (barely any time at all for Frieren- over a 1000 yr old elf)

The next episode (chapter-2) starts after a 4 year timelapse (24 years after Himmel's death) to reach a point where we see Fern's progress on learning magic and also the deterioration of Heiter's health. Heiter dies and then there is a 2 year timeskip (26 years after Himmel's death) until we come across our first 'quest' (chapter-3) that we see Frieren and Fern undertake - the search for the blue moon weed flowers. There is a 6 month timelapse before Fern decides 'this is taking too long' and tells Frieren that she thinks its time to pack up and move on - they end up finding the blue mood weed right after that conversation.

The third episode (chapters-4 and 5) is set another year later (27 years after Himmel's death), and the 4th episode a year after that (28 years after Himmel's death) We spend 6 months of this year cleaning up a ship wreck (Episode 4, Chapter - 6)

This is where the present day storyline properly starts - 28 years after Himmel's death -with our party finding out about Aureole (Episode 4, Chapter-7) and picking up another member (Stark) (Episode-6, Chapter-10/11) as they head north.

After that its all small timeskips as we join the party on their 'quests' as they head north.

The next biggest one is when they are stuck in a blizzard for 6 months near the Schwer mountain range and so cannot move ahead. This is in the 2nd half of episode 11 (Chapter-24).

After this timeskip we find out it is now 29 years since Himmel died.

Again small timeskips (in days or weeks - normal for an anime) as we get to Ausserst (during which we meet Sein, spend a few weeks in his village, travel a bit, and then get stuck in a village for a month due to a snow storm - no major time skips here by the way), then 2 months timeskip between reaching Ausserst and writing the First Class Mage exam. (Episode 18 and Chapter 37).

The anime ends after the mage exam alongside Chapter- 60 of the manga. Keep in mind this is still 29 years since Himmel's died.

**Manga Spoilers Ahead**

We don't hit 30 years from Himmel's death until Chapter 70, and 31 years until Chapter - 105. There's a timeskip of a few months where they live outside Weiss with Denken, as Frieren analyzes a curse, and they deal with defeating a demon (Macht Arc - Chapter- 81 to 104), but you get the point.

The manga currently is on 31 years after Himmel's death. (Chapter-134 is the latest as of writing this)

-1.9.2024