#but same thing could be said with a cat or a bird or anything else

[gayeldritchgod]

If i see one more self proclaimed "animal lover" say that mice are gross and that they hate them and they carry diseases and should be killed i will personally kill them

[libraryraccoon]

I was wondering how a Dazai!Reader from BSD (preferably 15 year old Dazai) would interact with the HH crew

Btw, I love your stuff sm, have a lovely day if you see this!

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Info : I haven't watched BSD for a long time, so it's probably wrong/inaccurate, sorry. Reader have 15 years old.

Message fom Raccoon : What ? Dad!Lucifer ? Dad!Alastor ? Okay, take that Dad!Husk !

TW : Suicide (mentionned); SH (mentionned)

General Headcanon

Finally.

After all this years of trying, after all this attempts, you were finally dead !

And what do we do when we have achieved such a feat ? We drink until the morning !

As you drank, you recounted your feat of finally dying to the bartender, some sort of cat-bird demon.

He gave you a judgmental look when you told him you were 15 and died of suicide.

But you were used to it, people often judge you while you were alive and was trying every second to die.

After a few hours, you were drunk and followed the bartender back to his place, a small apartment in a quiet corner of Hell.

You shouldn't follow someone to their home, you know that, but for your defense, you were drunk and he was a cat. And you have a weakness for cats.

Two things making it impossible to refuse his invitation.

And, if anything ever went wrong, you always had your gun with you, which had appeared at the same time as you in Hell.

The bartender's name was Husk and he kind of adopted you ? You weren't even sure if one sinner could adopt another sinner.

Life was calm with Husk, and you somehow helped him with his work.

By that I mean you were stopping the powers of other demons with your power, so you used it to kick out all the assholes who attacked him from the bar.

You and Husk had this dynamic of "Father who will kill for his child & Child who will sacrifice themselves for their father."

And then, one day you had to move to the Hazbin Hotel because Husk find a work there.

Alastor was surprised to see that Husk now had a kid–he didn't think it was possible for an alcoholic like him to have a child.

And he learned that Husk had cut down on his drinking, so he could be a better father.

*very kindly and not at all suspiciously notes this fact in the back of his mind.*

The hotel was quite shocked to know that you were a child from a fucking mafia and that you had died of suicide at 15 years old. If Husk hadn't informed them about that, they never would have suspected it.

Your humor worries them more than anything else.

Charlie is worry every time you make jokes about suicide while your dad rolls his eyes at it.

Husk was used to your jokes after a few months of living together.

The hotel wasn't.

Charlie is like your older sister, optimistic and a little naive at times.

She always tries to make you see the bright side of things and to make you forget this idea of double death.

Spoiler : it doesn't work.

Lucifer sees you like one of his children.

He spoils you like he spoiled Charlie when she was just a child.

Husk often makes side eyes at him, accusing him of trying to steal his child.

And that was true.

Lucifer, Charlie, Husk and Angel Dust are the ones who are the most concerned about your mental health.

Alastor wanted to make you sign a contract "I become powerful and Alastor releases my father from his contract in exchange of stopping trying to kill myself."

You didn't sign it.

Alastor tried to use you to spy on Vox and the Vees because he was bored and wanted some entertainment.

It worked.

Alastor do radio shows with you sometimes, you two are called "The RadioDuo".

His audience LOVES you.

You gained Alastor some listeners btw.

You help Niffty with her work at the Hotel.

Even if Charlie said you didn't have to do it, you do it anyway.

Vaggie take all your guns because you apparently “didn’t need” them.

You managed to recover them with a little manipulation.

Angel Dust could see himself in you.

You reminded him of his little human self, Anthony, broken by the world and wanting to end it. A family running the Mafia and forcing him to join it.

You're a bit like him, but compared to him, who fought to survive, had a reason to survive, you had nothing, no reason to fight, and you gave up.

When Angel Dust isn't working, he usually stays with you and Husk.

He doesn't want to abandon you, leave you alone in such a rotten world. He wants you to be protected and to be the child you never could be.

He will never let anyone touch you, never.

Husk and Angel Dust are usually the ones who bandage you after SH, Angel Dust doesn't say anything as he does it, because he understands. Husk doesn't speak as well, but you can see that by doing so he's blaming himself, making you instantly regret it.

Don't try to kill yourself in front of them, please. They're already worried enough, don't add more.

Hotel Hazbin was, in a way, your family.

And you would kill everyone in this room before killing yourself before anything happened to them.

[plumipal]

AAAAAOMG UR TWST OC IS SO ADORABLE?? i'm absolutely in love with eden sm (+ his design?? the star eyes and the wings are my favorite,, i wanna smooch all his tattoos!) and i hope it's okay to ask a few questions about him... (I KNOW U SAID IT WAS OKAY BUT I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE 😭 i'm genuinely interested in knowing more!)

1) does he have anyone in the twst cast that he tolerates/likes? i know he's part of the whole harem thing but is there anyone he doesn't necessarily mind being around (or even sharing with the prefect?)

2) do grim and eden have a good relationship? i would assume so since they're living both with one another but do they just get along with each other for the prefect's sake or are they actually best buds? (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

(little dumb idea but i think it would be so cute if the prefect treated the two as if they were all like a little family! eden and prefect being the two parents and grim their rambunctious kid lmao,, i would imagine the others not being so happy about it (っ‘ω`c))

3) is he okay with physical affection/pda? is he totally chill about it or would he rather shy about the whole thing? is he open to having the prefect touch his wings or his tattoos?

4) oooo any funfacts that you have about the new ramshackle resident?? just in general really if that's okay with u ofc!! ☆

aa okay that's it!! i hope my questions weren't annoying or anything! (っ‘ω`c)

Had to get one of those wheels ive seen going around where you put the oc and how they feel about the character and how the characters feel back about them, but with a twist lol (most of them are haters).

The ones he are most tolerant with are grim, ace, deuce, jack and kalim. Only one he could possible share with would either be kalim, jack or deuce, because of how he sorta is annoyed by ace.

Of course cant forget how he feels about you :) he thinks you are very very very special and he loves you a lot <3

He likes grim a lot, seeing as grim isn't one of the students that is oh so annoying. He warms up to the monster, seeing how gently you take care of grim, wanting to do the same. It feels, domestic, in his opinion.

Grim likes Eden a lot too, he has never belittled him, he has always made sure to feed grim along with Eden being very warm (and therefore very nice to sleep on). In grims opinion, he thinks you should go with Eden, cuz he is a good candidate for marriage (grim has been bribed with love, affection, and tuna).

He takes good care of the cat son, making sure he is healthy and happy.

Now onto pda. Eden are only okay with you touching the wings, the tattoo and the core, being as they are quite sensitive. The scar is still off limits, but maybe if you make him warm up to you even more you might be able to-

He loves when you help him with his wings, it's one of the best feelings out there. Fo mind that only you (and grim) can touch the wings, anyone else is off limits, ESPECIALLY ROOK HE IS FORBIDDEN TO TOUCH THEM.

Eden facts!! He has lil "ear-holes" like birds, just behind the feathers. Be careful around that part when you help him with his feathers, otherwise you might have a pouty and angry Eden on tour hands.

His eyes also glow in the dark! It's the scariest during the nightly snack runs down to the kitchen, seeing him suddenly stare at you, but you slowly get used to it!

You don't know where the extra eyes sometimes come from tho...

Also some general facts about Eden!

Dorm: Ramshackle

Birthday: 1/1

Age: ???

Height: 185cm

Fav subject: alchemy

Hobby: cleaning in ramshackle, birdwatching

Likes: you

Dislikes: Loud noises, blond 3rd year hunters named rook hunt, people trying to grab onto his wings that aren't you

Fav food: he don't need to eat to gain sustenance, bur he likes mashed potatoes with gravy

Least fav food: soup, any soup, he hates it

Btw if anyone were to write for Eden I would explode it would mean the world to me

[cloudcountry]

auburn!!! i’m so glad that over these five years (half a decade wow 🤑) your work and most importantly your amazing personality has grown to receive so much recognition and love. i’m proud of you and i’m glad we’ve known each other for so long 🫶🏽. i hope your work continues to grow and you continue to do amazing things and be generally pretty cool. okay thats too much sappiness bleggh poop fart shit fuck ass ☝🏽

erm anyways i would like the chocolate swirl bread slices with brown sugar bubble tea in the special 3k event cup with cat cap… rubs hands together like fly…

would also be cool if the reader was FTM and/or was not-so-subtlety avoiding leona for any reason

DANIEL YOU BUTT THATS THE SWEETEST THING YOUVE SAID TO ME IN FIVE YEARS AND YOU END IT WITH POOP FART SHIT FUCK ASS????? ANYWAYS this almost made me cry what the fuck i feel like a baby bird leaving the nest even though im older than you. i cant believe we're like adults now. what happened to being weird ass teenagers on quotev dot com. i cant say i miss that era though but i do miss kaomoji IDK WHERE HALF THE FRIEND GROUP IS LMAO anyways thank you for being my friend mwah you are a real one you have seen me at my worst and stuck with it IDK HOW YOU DID THAT anyways your lion man

an order of romantic angst with leona kingscholar!

Leona watches your back as emotions he would much rather not acknowledge fester and boil in his chest. His tail flicks, his ears twitch, and it’s obvious to everyone around him that he is exceedingly annoyed.

That’s not the shocking part, however.

It’s the fact that he’s annoyed with you, the one boy in this whole school he never should have felt that way towards.

Leona wouldn’t be so annoyed in the first place if it wasn’t for the fact that you’d been inexplicably ignoring him for the past few weeks. As petty as always, Leona was sure he could outlast you, ignoring you in much the same way. He was good at being nonchalant, at taking it easy even though his affection shifted to bitter resentment.

Could he really call you someone close to him if he’s starting to genuine dislike you?

Nah, it’s not like he should have expected anything in the first place. He turns on his heel and walks off in the opposite direct of you, tail flicking lazily behind him. If you don’t want him anymore, that’s fine. If he’s not your number one anymore, he’ll just grin and bear it, bear like he always has and always will.

He thought he had something just for himself. How naive could he be?

Leona scowls, digging his hands into his pockets. If he sees everyone else in the hallway giving him a wide berth he doesn’t show it, his vision laser focused on Savanclaw’s dorm, his room, his bed, where he can sleep and ignore his reality for a little while longer.

The reality that you were so clearly avoiding him, the reality that you probably didn’t want him anymore, the reality that he was finally number one to someone and now he wasn’t.

Leona was once again second, but when there were only two people in a competition, second was the same as dead last.

[mothfables]

@cripple-cat

Four was sitting against one of the trees behind Wild’s house enjoying a book when he heard footsteps approaching.

Most of the time the other heroes left him alone when he was reading, acknowledging his need for time to himself, only tending to bother him if he was needed for something. Whoever it was coming towards him now didn’t seem to want his attention- in fact it seemed like they didn’t want him to notice them at all, steps quiet and careful.

Glancing up from his book he saw Legend, tiptoeing barefoot through the grass towards him.

Legend looked up at almost the same time and froze, the veteran hero’s eyes going wide. After a moment he glanced around, like he was making sure there was no one else outside, before scurrying over the rest of the way to where Four sat. Four noted he was still walking on his toes.

When he reached the smith, Legend didn’t sit but instead swayed in place, licking his lips nervously and not meeting his eyes.

“Uh- um. Could you, um.” He stuttered, staring at his toes instead of looking at Four. He began fidgeting with his fingers, and Four realized they were bare of his usual array of rings, leaving only his heart and green holy rings. “I was, um, w-wondering if...”

He trailed off, voice quiet and shy in a way Four had never heard before from the older boy. His shoulders were hunched inwards and he kept playing with his hands, ears tilted down. He looked... small.

Four tilted his head in thought. Legend rarely initiated interactions outside of teasing or bets, and when he did it was usually confident and sure. He was hardly ever shy, and certainly never so quiet.

The longer neither of them spoke the further down Legend’s ears went. He began to turn away, drawing into himself dejectedly, and something in Four’s chest clenched.

“Hey, hold on. I haven’t said no yet. You haven’t even asked me anything.”

Legend turned back at that, a tiny flicker of hope in his eyes that he was trying hard to hide. “B-but you, um, y-you dun’ like it wh’n people b’ther you.”

Four ignored the odd way he was speaking in favour of giving him a reassuring smile. “Normally, yes, But you’re not bothering me. Promise,” he added at Legend’s doubtful look. “What it is you want to ask me?”

Legend bit his lip nervously. “C-could you... couldyoureadtome?” he asked in a rush.

The smith blinked in astonishment. Legend wanting to spend time with him was already a surprise, but wanting to be read to? He shook it off quickly, though, instead patting the ground on his left with another smile. “Sure. Come sit with me? It’s always nicer to read when you’re sitting down, in my opinion.”

The other boy lit up and bounced happily, dropping down to sit next to Four and drawing his knees up to his chest. Four found where he left off before beginning to read aloud.

A few minutes passed where the only sounds were Four’s voice and the chirping of birds. Then there was a pressure on his shoulder; glancing over, he saw Legend curled up against his side, eyes fixed on the book in his hands. One of Legend’s hands drifted up to his mouth almost subconsciously only to be snatched back down.

The whole thing was a little odd, but it didn’t seem harmful, so Four decided to let it be. He continued reading, leaning his head on the other boy’s and earning a happy little sound. Legend curled closer, one hand clutching at Four’s sleeve as the other came up to his mouth again. He didn’t seem to notice.

[hurtghul]

THE BIRD AND THE CAT !!

──── Damian Wayne x Thief!Reader. 934 words. Part one here.

He had let you go. You escaped thanks to him, he didn't use violence, he didn't chase you, he didn't send you to the police. He let you go, he easily let you go with all those bills of your goal. Why? Why did you have to steal his heart?

He can't think about that, not when it's about you. You are a criminal, he should put you behind bars. But he knows he can't, and you know it too.

“You haven't been stealing in a while, fleabag.” Damian spoke coldly as he watched you approach a window that you silently opened of the jewelry store, preventing you from even entering.

His eyes look at you penetratingly, analyzing your every move. Is it attraction you feel? He can't feel that, not with a thief like you. He is Robin, he is a hero, not a hypocrite like Batman.

You turn around, seeing the young man in the Robin costume behind you. You sigh with disapproval and descend from the window that you failed to interrupt, landing on the ground.

“Oh, my bad.” You say, with a hint of sarcasm, as you leans towards the boy, attentively. “I returned to action because I knew you would come, little bird.”

His eyes watched you and studied you for a few moments, his gaze was curious, but he continued to hide it. “Were you waiting for me?” Damian asked calmly, the smile on his face becoming more subtle but more threatening, he didn’t trust someone like you.

“Yes, I was waiting for you.” You said as you walked until you were in front of him, as if you were challenging him to a duel, as if you weren't afraid of him. Because you know that, despite his attempts to catch you, he will never dare let you go to the police. This is a game that will only continue if he lets you get away with the robbery with dirty hands.

“You know, you really should leave the stealing for people.” Damian said with a confident tone. But his curiosity was winning over him.

The young hero enjoyed the fact that, despite his best efforts, the thief could escape his watchful gaze, and that the more he thought about you, the less sense it made. You seemed like the type of character he would despise the most, yet something drew him towards you, sending shivers down his spine.

“Nah, It's obvious you adore me, admit it.” You smirked at him. “You can't get bored of me.”

“You’re wrong, cat.” Damian said, looking at you intently, his words sounded cold and harsh. Damian’s voice had completely changed when he addressed you directly. He seemed unapproachable and intimidating, yet something else lurked beneath his gaze. Perhaps the little thief wasn’t as bad as he thought.

As if he couldn't do anything else but look into your eyes, he was hypnotized by their color beauty. He wanted to look away, but something about them was calling his name. He was confused, but he liked it.

“Ah, is that so?” You smile as he took a step closer to Damian, who remained still in his same spot, not moving. Damian stares at you. He watches your movements, and it seems to him that you are doing it on purpose to make him feel jealous, to make him lose your concentration. He's not sure, but the little smile on your face is adorable. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mind says another.”

He tried to hide his attraction, and failed miserably. His heart was racing as he got closer to you, his movements becoming slower. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to hold you in his arms. The idea was so appealing, so strange…

“Don't think you can trick me, cat,” Damian said, calmly, barely moving a muscle. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss you, he couldn't deny that his heart was beating at a furious pace. He wanted to do something more than just kiss you and let you go.

“How does this game end? Does the thief finally get captured and sent to the police, or does the criminal escape with the hero's heart?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You leaned closer, your breaths touching the other's face with an intoxicating softness. Damian's mind was bursting with questions, were you doing that to distract him? Or was this a real scene, beneath the veil of crime alley?

His body trembled, and he felt his heart beating wildly. You were beautiful as you leaned forward, closer to him. The heat of your breath was something else, that was it, he couldn't resist you anymore.

Damian’s heart raced, he closed his eyes and captured your lips with his own. He moved his hands to your hair and let himself go, kissing you passionately, he could no longer hold back, and that scared him. His feelings for you were real, and they weren't supposed to be.

You had captured him without even realizing it, you had conquered his heart. He knew this was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so damn right. The feeling was new to him, he never felt this way for anyone. Was there something more? Was it possible that he really liked you?

Damian opened his eyes slightly, looking at you, damn. He was doing what he swore he would never do. He was letting the thief steal his heart.

“You know what they say, little birds like you aren't too hard to catch.”

“Just shut up, fleabag.”

[tarnussy]

Something a bit more important than fandom, give it a read please. It is an issue that has been bothering me to the point of serious emotional distress for years.

Not related to ER but since I have hundreds of people following me here, I thought I'd share an article that is about the moral cost of cats in regards to birds. Much like other social media sites, tumblr also treats cats in a cult-like way, so I think reading something like this is essential for everyone. It is an excellently written article about a scientist and their fight against birds constantly going extinct BECAUSE of cats and irresponsible owners.

I am also sad about constantly seeing that every time someone brings this topic up, cat owners who can behave like they are part of a cult, immediately start acting vile and throwing death threats. So imagine thinking you, as a cat owner, are the victim when birds and small mammals are losing this fight every single day with a lot of species going extinct as we speak because of the very people who don't want to hear the truth. It baffles me that they say they like animals so much, especially cats, but at the same time, when other people who see the whole picture and are actually animal lovers who love more than just cats and dogs are suddenly their main enemies? How does that make sense? Once again I wish I could express myself better but English is not my mother tongue.

I can bring my own experience into this as well, I live in a country where cats outside are in such amounts that is is straight up just a pest issue - cats being the pests. I see how in the last 10 years, a booming blackbird population where I live went down to basically seeing one blackbird a year. I live next to a huge lake that is supposedly a national park type deal where birds are protected, and yet, on the street I live in that is right next to the lake, there are at least 3 outdoors cats per house, doing irreversible harm to the birds in the lake area. There is one person who owns 17 outdoors cats whose cats not only hunt for birds all day, but also baby chickens in neighbours' yards. When confronted, the owner said he doesn't care. Don't forget that cats kill for fun and sport! And there are no laws or anything to fight this, and I feel completely helpless because birds are essential.

I would make it mandatory for everyone to care for an injured bird that was hurt by a cat. And try to nurse them back to life, just to put things into perspective. I've been doing just that almost every summer in the past several years. It's heartbreaking. And I don't have options because the only bird hospital is across the country from where I live. So I have to rely on myself and the short training I had in bird emergency.

And knowing that a lot of cat (and dog) owning for the most part comes down to people being emotially stunted and refusing to see how harmful their pets are is just incredibly sad and also infuriating. Because that is the truth of it. The hypocrisy is wild. And it is a losing battle, especially since social media has been a thing for the past decade or so. It's much worse now. So if you like birds, please read the article. If you are a diehard cat owner who thinks everyone else is wrong, also read the article. Maybe you will see where the scientists and people who care for more animals than cats are coming from.

Also, I am really bad at confrontation and fights generally, so I will not tolerate any vile comment or addition on this post that will start to pick a fight. The energy you would use to fight me would have better use if use used it to keep yor outdoors cats inside. And maybe if it was used to actually help animals instead of hoarding them. This post for now is also for my followers only, so no reblogs. But even if 2 people read this post and the article, that's good news for me.

And also just to try to describe how I (and other people who love birds) feel: imagine this made-up scenario where the birds are the cats. You love cats more than anything, they have been going steadily extinct because of an animal that is a popular pet. You love cats but this other animal that is a popular pet is killing cats for fun. And the owners of this other popular pet think it is super cute how their pets are killing your favourite animals that are going extinct. And you can't bring up this topic ever, because the popular pet type that has been killing your fave animal is so so popular that people will gank you via comments and real life for it, no matter what. Now THAT is what fighting for birds and small mammals feels like when we try to bring this topic up with cat owners.

And if you unfollow me for this, good riddance. Just know that before you think you are the victim for people pointing out how harmful cats are, you are actively harming the environment and are responsible for birds and small mammals going extinct - because you are responsible for your cat. Cats by themselves wouldn't be an issue if it was a natural setting, without the human part, but it isn't. Humans are hoarding cats, so their ratio compared to birds is outlandishly big and unnatural. In no natural setting would cats be this rampant without the hoarding aspect. Humans hoarding cats and being irresponsible are the issue. And you can marinate in that after you unfollowed me.

For the rest of you who I reached with this post, thank you for reading. And I know this is not a fandom topic, but it is extremely important to me. And it should be extremely important to way more people. It is a global issue. It is always wild to see the lengths so called environmentalist go into to fight people about recycling and veganism, but hoarding killing machines somehow is acceptable to these very same people. Extend that cat (and dog) loving to other animals as well. Also, hoarding animals will not fix your emotional / psychological problems. It will only distract. There are less environmentally harmful ways for distraction.

[godasfarasyoureconcerned]

up late thinking about him… because what else… do you ever think about what izzy’s mundane specific favorite things are?

like is his favorite fruit an orange because it’s good on vitamins and accessible in the atlantic tropics so it’s just so pragmatic? or is it something like dragonfruit that he had one time at a port with edward and they didn’t even really know what they were stealing at the time but when they split it open it was the most magical looking fruit they’d ever seen and it was juicy and tasted like something from a different world and it’s been his favorite since?

is his favorite color black because it looks the most intimidating and it’s not too bright on the eyes? is it the same shade of green on the ring around his cravat, because of said ring around his cravat? is it dark grey blue like the shade of the deepest points of the ocean? is it the same shade of brown as edward’s eyes?

is his favorite drink black coffee because it’s caffeinated and gets the job well and done without sugar or cream or anything frivolous? or is it something like this one rum edward stole on a raid once and it was really strong and not great as far as anything goes but great as far as rum goes and that night izzy got more drunk than he’d been in years but it was so special to be so close and open and uninhibited with ed?

is his favorite animal a cat because they mind their business and catch rodents and they can be cuddly but mostly they’re low maintenance? is it a snake because he saw one once when he was a child in his garden and he watched it eat a rat live and then when he once told edward that he likes snakes it was only a month before ed’s next tattoo, a huge snake down his arm that only solidified izzy’s preference? is it something like a seagull because they typically can’t get as far from land as something like an albatross, so they’re better for navigation and telling where you are in relation to land? or is it the albatross, something that was only ever mildly interesting to him as far as animals go, hardly worth noticing, but one time edward saw one and said “oh, look, mate— an albatross!” and izzy said “so?” and ed shrugged and said “i dunno. they’re pretty cool. got the biggest wingspan of any bird, y’know? that one there could get around the whole world in, like, 50 days” and izzy said “50? you think so?” and ed said “those fuckers are big and fast, mate” very conclusively because he personally thinks they’re so neat and then from that day forward the seagull lived in the albatross’ huge shadow in izzy’s mind?

yeah. does he value the aesthetic and pragmatism of things vs the relationship with edward in others? i’m sure he does. these are my late night thoughts. feel free to share your own i’d love to hear them

[melonba11s]

Dependent (Lawrence/MC Fic)

Several months ago I uploaded an incomplete version of this fic. Now the full version is here, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Minors and Ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked.

Contains: Description of rot, amputation, mutilation. Gender Neutral MC who has a vagina, Lawrence.

Morning was coming. You had been up all night. Not that you had much of a choice anymore. He controlled most of your life now, from what you ate, what you did… How you looked. You laid on your side, staring at the remains of what had once been working limbs. 

Skin twisted and fused over exposed bone and muscle, not unlike the gnarled roots of an old tree. Pushed and forced to bend to the will to the rest of the forest around it, or in this case, to the will of Lawrence’s crude stitches and strange salves. You couldn’t remember much from when he took them, only that smile on his face as he looked down at you. You thought for sure you would die. Visit the river and allow yourself to float away as he described. 

For a while you had found yourself wishing that you had died that day, blood pooling out of your severed limbs and flooding the floor around you. Warm but cold, you could still feel it lapping at your bare skin if you did not keep your mind occupied enough. You had moved past those feelings of wishing you were gone though. You had spent so long mourning the things you would never do again, from the mundane things such as holding a pen or snapping your fingers, to the joys of life such as petting a friendly cat or cooking delicious food. 

You had been depressed, and it had annoyed Lawrence. At first he had tried to help you feel better, you remembered the flower crowns he’d clumsily made from poppies, his favorite flower, the chains of clover he’d make out in the woods and bring in to dress you in. Gentle kisses on your eyelids, assuring you that you looked beautiful. 

You hadn’t felt beautiful though. You’d felt broken, a waste of space. And soon enough he grew sick of trying to comfort you. 

“Forget it.” he had said one day, showing you the delicate bird skull he had found in the woods, covered in moss. You had barely lifted your head in acknowledgment of his waxing poetics over the beauty of the thin bones. And his bitter tone had sent a shiver up your spine, and instantly, dread had filled your stomach. 

You had upset him. So you had struggled to sit up. 

“N-No! Go on!” Desperate, you whimpered in pain as you attempted to move towards him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” the apologies kept falling from your lips, like the petals from a cherry tree blossoming in spring. And with each apology, your world closed in around you until his apartment was all that was left of it. Upsetting him felt far worse than anything else in the world now. 

 Lawrence would bring you bits of the outside world that was now alien to you home. Food, Flowers, Plants, Bones, sometimes little gifts. On his days off, he would go to the forest to work on his art. 

His art… You had not been spared from becoming part of his artwork. Or at least, what had once been you. Lawrence hadn’t put those delicate fingers and lovely red strings of muscle to waste. You remember cringing and letting out a strangled sob when he first showed you the photos. What had once been your arms and legs had been broken and manipulated into crude poses, sticking up from the dirt and reaching for the sun and stars, a macabre flower. 

Eventually though you began paying attention to his words as he showed you the pictures he took. His art was different from anything you’d ever seen in a museum. Unlike a Van Gogh painting, which remained the same no matter how much time passed, every minute, every day, every month contributed to his pieces. 

You now asked to see the photos when he would return from the woods. Greens and grays adding themselves without being asked too, creeping across the skin like spilled paint. Maggots and beetles, forever moving, ensuring that the piece would never remain the same from one second to the next. Skin falling slipping and falling from now purple toned muscle, exposing pale bone that glowed in comparison to the dark colors surrounding it. 

    And how happy he looked when he’d bring out his phone to show you the photos, the shine in his eyes as he explained what had happened, what had been added by the earth to the art now. So you asked to see more, to see other pieces. If you could be so bold though, none of his other pieces compared to what he had made with you. Animal bones and flesh could only do so much, after all. 

But Lawrence wasn’t here right now. Your only source of human contact was gone more often than not. He worked a night job, and slept during the day. Thus you had grown used to sleeping during the day and staying awake all night, waiting only for him to return. And as content as you became to sit and wait for him, you still became restless. You could still remember the day, a few months ago perhaps? You’d had enough, no matter how much it hurt, you needed it. You needed to move, you needed agency. 

You had rolled yourself off the bed with a sharp whine of pain as you hit the floor. You laid there for what felt like hours, preparing yourself. Then you moved your left arm, resting part of your weight on it. It hurt, and you let out a sob. The pain would have to come second though. Tears flowed freely, though you kept yourself as quiet as possible, so as not to disturb Lawrences neighbors. Eventually you had managed to balance yourself on all fours, shaking, panting, choking on your own breath. 

You crawled around in circles slowly, leaving a trail of tears and spit as you kept going, telling yourself that it would hurt for a while. And that’s how Lawrence had found you, about to collapse, still moving, your stumps mottled with bruises, eyes puffy and red, mouth dry.  You were so immersed in your own mind that you didn’t notice him until he spoke, his voice louder than usual.

“What are you doing?” he had been angry, lifting you up easily and setting you on the same chair you had sat in when he first brought you home. You couldn’t explain yourself sufficiently to him, he couldn’t seem to understand how much you needed to move. 

“You’re never getting out of here. You’re mine.” he growled, his face close to yours. 

“I don’t want to leave, I don’t.” You kept repeating yourself, still in tears, but now those tears were from the knowledge you had hurt him, made him angry.  No matter how many times you said those words, you had not convinced him that you were not trying to leave. So for a time he had forced you to drink some strange tea before he left, leaving you there unable to move, unable to speak, barely able to breath. 

When did he begin to trust you? You thought hard back through the past. When he had first stopped making you swallow his bitter mixes, stopped tying you to the bed so you couldn’t roll off, stopped attempting to control your movements. Your thoughts were interrupted by the jiggle of a key. He was home. 

You slid yourself off the bed with practiced ease now, making your way across the floor, but also making sure you were out of view of the doorway in case someone was passing by. They wouldn’t understand either of you. They’d try to separate you both. You’d never see Lawrence again, a thought too painful to dwell on for long. Only when you heard Lawrence close the door behind him, and the harmony of clicks as he locked the door back up, did you make yourself seen. 

Moving as fast as you could across the floor, you lifted yourself onto your hind legs, pawing at his leg and whining, looking up into those stormy blue eyes as he smiled down at you. 

“There you are…” he mumbled, setting down his bags as he got to his knees, running a hand along your back, as if you were a cat he had taken in off the streets. He nuzzled his cheek against yours, pulling you close, his hug more like a vice grip. He buried his face into your hair, which had grown long over the months, running his fingers through it like a wind blowing through overgrown grass. He was inhaling your scent, the familiar musk of his apartment, the spiciness of the homemade medicine he would apply to your stumps, the ever so faint smell of fake lavender from the cheap shampoo he used on you. 

“I got you a gift…” his voice was soft, as he dug through one of the bags he had with him. “Don’t laugh… It’s stupid but, when I saw it in the machine, I thought of you. I figured maybe you’d like it.” 

He had stuffed it into the bag, crushed and folded to hide it from others view. But you could tell it was soft, fluffy even. He dug his hand into the soft fabric, pulling out a large, floppy rabbit. It was anything but natural, a bright blue, an expression more human than animal on its flat face. Unlike anything Lawrence would ever like, something he would never usually bring into his home. But he did, entirely for you.

“I love it!” you instantly dove into it, almost kneading it with your forearms as you nuzzled it with your cheek. Something to hold onto as best you could as you waited for Lawrence to return. “Thank you so much, I love it so much.” you repeated those words yet again. A practiced repetition. One that ensured Lawrence and comforted him, letting him know he made the right decision. You stopped your cuddling of your new toy though and fell still as your stomach growled, loudly. 

Lawrence fumbled around suddenly. Whenever you gave signs of needing something, like food or water, he would always rush to find the thing you needed. Scared of watching you wither away like one of his plants would if he were not attentive enough. 

“Dinner, that’s right. Uh.” He rustled through his bags. Lawrence didn’t keep much food in the house, he once told you that it all seemed to rot way too quickly. Much of the food you consumed thus, was either convenience store fare or fast food. Though you remembered fondly the time he had splurged a little, and gotten take-away from a family restaurant down the road. 

“I uh, got us some hamburgers today.” He held up the familiar brown bag, grease starting to soak the bottom of it. “Let me just, get us some plates and cut yours up for you.” 

He stood, hurrying off to prepare the food. At first, Lawrence had insisted on hand feeding you, something he still enjoyed doing now and then. But eventually, he allowed you to feed yourself when able too. You didn’t find it humiliating at all, crouched on the floor, eating off a plate like a dog, unable to wipe your mouth or pick things out of your teeth. Entirely dependent on him when you ran into something as mundane as that. 

Just the way he liked it. You watched patiently, from your spot on the floor as he prepared the food, carefully cutting your hamburger up into bite size chunks. As he set it down, the sloppily stacked ingredients fell apart and toppled onto the plate. It was becoming less like a sandwich and more like some housewives weird casserole. 

You didn’t mind though, there wasn’t much you could do about it, and in the end, it would taste pretty much the same. Unceremoniously, Lawrence dumped the fries next to them, before covering them liberally in ketchup. 

“Here you go.” he said, his expression soft and welcoming, the same he had when he watered one of his plants. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch as he patted your head, relishing in the affectionate touch as he set the plate on the floor with a soft clink. 

Lawrence wouldn’t mind if you just began eating right away, but you still liked to wait for him to settle down next to you. Lawrence didn’t really eat to enjoy things, rather, he ate to sustain his physical body. 

“Starving is a really painful way to die. So is thirst.” he had said once over a package of cup noodles. He did like spicy stuff though, and he was almost abusive with hot sauce and peppers. You glanced over at him as he sat next to you, holding his own food in his hand. You didn’t need to look though, just sitting near him you could smell the “Extra hot sauce, add Jalapeno”, ordered in a quiet, monotone voice. 

As it always was, eating was a messy affair. At first, you had felt gross, feeling sauce, grease and crumbs stick to your face. The embarrassment of sticking your tongue out, trying to lick it off. Bright red as Lawrence held your face and gently dabbed at it with a napkin. 

You no longer cared, you reasoned with yourself that there was no shame in having help if you couldn’t do something. You could feel Lawrence’s eyes on you as you ate, messily using your tongue to help pull food into your mouth as your lips pushed it away. 

Mealtime wasn’t really a period for bonding with Lawrence, as it might be for families or couples, so you finished eating as quickly as you could. You never finished before Lawrence though, having hands made eating so easy after all. 

You sat patiently as Lawrence began wiping off your face, using a familiar napkin that he had this time, gotten a little damp under the faucet. It was relaxing, like a little massage, and you found yourself getting a little drowsy from it, despite the chill of the water. 

“All done.” You gave a small squeak as Lawrence lifted you. No matter how many times he did it, it was always a shock. You had nothing to grip him with, no fingers to curl into his clothes, no limbs to wrap around him. You were completely at his mercy, he could so easily drop you. 

You evened your breathing though as he held you snugly against his chest, rubbing his cheek against yours, taking in your scent again. You could tell he was in a mood, one of his moods that would always end in the same thing. 

You wriggled in place as he sat down on the bed, the mattress sinking under your combined weight. You obediently moved your head as Lawrence moved down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. His lips brushed against your pulse like a petal lost in the breeze, in contrast to his fingers, curled like the gnarled roots of an old tree gripping to the cliff it was perched on. Though in this case, that “cliff” was your hips. 

One of those hands eventually moved though, choosing to dance over the scarring of what was left of your legs. 

“Have you ever noticed…” He breathed quietly, tracing over the jagged uneven skin, “how when you’re injured… the surrounding area becomes so much more sensitive?” His tracing turned into slow strokes, and you found he was right. 

Each slight force of pressure sent tingles up your spine, and you bit down a moan as his hand warmed the area. 

“You’re hyper aware of any kind of sensation in the area…” He cupped the end of your thigh, circling his palm over it as if he were polishing it. You were so focused on his ministrations, how they sent hot flashes across your body, that you didn’t notice his spare hand sneaking down between your thighs. 

You let out a helpless mewl as he slid his hand over your underwear, pressing against your clit. 

“It feels similar, doesn’t it? The intensity of it.” He pressed, stroking over your folds at the same pace he did over the remainder of your leg. 

“Y-Yeah, it does…” You whispered, nodding. You could feel his erection, pressing through his sweats, against your back. Lawrence’s touch always got you aching for more so fast, you twisted around as best you could. 

“H-Hey, calm down, I’m sorry-” his apologies were cut off as you clumsily smashed your lips against his, writhing against him. You could feel yourself slipping off him, so your kissing became more fervent. Lawrence eventually came to his senses, shaking off the shock of your boldness, to grip your hips, pull you up his lap again, return your kisses. 

He wasn’t a very good kisser. He was nervous, never quite getting as into it as you would. He preferred his lips to be touching other parts of your body, such as your shoulders or stomach, rather than your lips. But he continued, and played along, because he knew you liked it. 

Distracted by kissing him, you barely noticed him grab your underwear, sliding them down with ease. You really wished you had hands, fingers, too curl into the waistband of his sweatpants, to pull his throbbing erection out with. To show him just how eager you were for him as well with your body language. 

Instead you were forced to let him lay you down on his bed, licking your lips as you stared up at him. Your arms instinctively moved to hug yourself as he pulled his sweatpants down, but the only thing that happened was the useless waving of your stumps. 

Stumps that before had the ability to hug someone, hold onto them, stroke their hair. Tears pricked at your eyes as you recalled again everything that you would never do again, what you would never be able to do for Lawrence. 

“Don’t cry…” Lawrence whispered, a hand reaching forward to stroke your face. He steadied your jerking movements with a hand on your thigh, spreading you open easily. 

Your eyes darted down to his cock, watching it twitch a little under your gaze. You figured what they said about tall men having bigger dicks had to be true, and even now, his size intimidated you. If you still had a forearm to use you’d insist on comparing the two. 

While his movements before were slow, meticulous, Lawrence always got impatient once he was finally out of his pants. He always felt more comfortable in less clothing, and him being more comfortable tended to lead to him being more frenzied. 

You bit your lip as he lined himself up, finding the right angle. He was panting softly, eyes squinted in concentration as he slid himself in. You were again reduced to small mewls, not wanting to startle him with a loud noise. Your eyebrows were furrowed as he pushed his way in, your walls flexing and pulsing around him. 

Getting used to his length always meant there was the first confusing, conflicting feelings of uncomfortable stretch, and how he’d rub against all your right spots. No matter how wet you were, it would always take a bit of time. 

Lawrence was fully hilted in you now, you could feel his pubic bone grind against your clit. He adored sinking himself all the way inside you and holding you in place, feeling your muscles twitch, the vibrations of your breathing and heart beating against his most intimate flesh. 

It always allowed you that precious time to get used to his length, shifting under him and moaning until- 

“L-Lawrence… p-please…” you began to beg for him to move. You never had to beg for long though, as much as you knew he enjoyed having power over you, you being dependent on him… You knew he’d always give in and give you what you wanted.

“Yes, of course.” he groaned, pulling himself out of your comfortable warm insides. He could never stay out for long though, snapping his hips forwards again to embed himself in again. 

You were at his mercy, no way to grab onto anything, as he quickly settled on his usual, fervent pace, pulling himself out nearly all the way before filling you up to the brim again. How his dick hit all the right places coming both in and out. 

Lawrence leaned against you, pinning your already mostly immobile body under him, moaning in your ear. 

“You’re so warm…” he groaned. “I can feel everything… the way your blood rushes through your veins and causes your flesh to swell, how soaking wet you are, all for me…” his words fell off into a groan as he gave a few harsher thrusts.

“You’re my own flower, I can unpeel your petals at anytime and make you bloom…” A hand dug into the back of your head and hair, pulling it up from the bed as you moaned. You were getting so close, wound up. 

“You’re such a tease, really… The way you coil up and contract… hiding yourself from me…” He was rambling now, something he usually did. And you were hooked onto his every word. 

“But I know you’re secrets… if I just… hit… the right… Spot…” You were shaking, panting, gasping for more. He was focused now, hitting your G-spot over and over again. Your stomach was tightening, a wave of emotions passing through you, thighs shaking, until-

“You’ll unfurl and show me your beauty…” he grunted, listening to you let out a cry of bliss, back arching to press against him while your head fell back against his grip, spreading yourself out for him. Lawrence managed a grin, his face soaked in sweat, before he hunched over, letting out a low moan. You felt his release spill inside you. 

You both stayed still for a moment, Lawrence liked staying inside as long as he could, feeling your walls contract around him as he grew soft. How he liked the feeling of pulling his limp cock out of your sensitive folds, how you always gave a small gasp as he came out with a small “pop”. 

“... I love you…” You mumbled softly, staring up at the ceiling as he buried his face back into your neck, planting those light kisses again. 

In your half awake state, you caught yourself thinking deeply again… Lawrence’s language equated you to a flower… You remember what he said once. 

Flowers are liars… They put on a colorful display to trick insects into helping them, either to reproduce or to eat. 

You were quickling nodding off, still feeling his lips on you, as they moved down to your collarbone. 

Was Lawrence letting himself be tricked by you? Or… was it more like a deer grazing in an open meadow. Your colorful display which helped you live, now letting the buck pick you out from the grass, devour you…

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seventeen

I know it’s morning, because the incessant thumping bass music starts up in tandem with the bird song. I lie with my eyes closed stubbornly insisting on sleeping through the noise, but when Claire gives up, stretches and starts to crawl out of her sleeping bag, I know it’s time that I admit defeat. 

“Good morning.” She says to me as soon as I stir, she’s bright as a bell. 

“Morning,” I croak, rubbing my eyes. “and happy birthday to you!”

She makes an excited squealing sound. “Thank you! It’s so weird! I’m a legal adult now!”

“Do you feel different?”

“Yeah, maybe a bit. Usually when people ask me that I’m like ‘no’ but today… maybe I actually do. I feel mature.”

“You have the whole world in your hands now, you can do anything.”

She looks down at her palms as though they’re suddenly magical, and I laugh and reach for the bag of food in the corner of the tent, no thoughts in my head but the chocolate brioche we bought in Aldi. 

We lope outside and start eating it on the camping chairs, and we must be the first ones to wake up in the entire place, because the whole field is deserted. Last night it was buzzing with chatter and music, people everywhere dressed in colourful outfits, coming over to our little campsite and sharing a drink with us, people singing songs, letting off firecrackers somewhere, but today it’s a wasteland. A battlefield of cheap supermarket beer cans litter the dry, dusty soil and there are pieces of what is presumably someone’s feather boa strewn all over the place. It reminds me of the time that my cat mauled a bird to death in our garden. 

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Claire asks me with a mouthful of soft, chocolatey bread, and I nod. “Yeah it was fun. It hasn’t been what I expected but like, in a good way.”

“I know, it’s a little bit chaotic.”

“And the horror stories about the toilets are true.”

“Ugh, yeah. Don’t remind me. I’ve been holding in my pee for ages.”

I lower my voice a little and lean toward her. “And how is it with Shane?”

“Oh, fine.” Her cheeks turn pink. “It’s been good, he’s really nice. I think I like him a lot…” She trails off. “I hope it’s not weird for you.”

“Actually it isn’t.” I admit. “I’m happy for you.”

She sighs. “I hope everyone else will be too.”

“Everyone, meaning Kelly?”

She shrugs “Well she hates me anyway now so I suppose there’s literally nothing that could make it worse, I just can’t help but feel a bit bad.”

“She hates me too, I think.” I lament. “But I suppose we can’t make decisions based on her, otherwise we’d both be bored and miserable.”

“We’re way better off without her.” She decides.  “She’s always been a bitch, and we just ignored it because she wasn’t being a bitch directly to us until now.”

“She always was to me.” I admit. “Ever since I’ve known her she’s been a bit like…. Aggressive. I feel like it just got worse this summer.”

“Yeah I know, there was that thing she said about Liam and you at the barbeque, that never sat right with me.”

“She said a lot of mean stuff. I think she sort of meant well, but it doesn’t always come out of her mouth sounding that way.”

“She’s jealous and annoying, let’s not make it complicated.”

I hesitate for a few moments. “Do you remember what she said to me the morning that I broke up with Liam?”

“Hm? When was that?”

“A few weeks ago. You were both there, and she said that I should stick to boys like him, because… other kinds of boys would end up hurting me.”

“Actually, yeah. I remember.”

“Do you think she was right?”

She looks at me thoughtfully, blue eyes searching for something in my face, like weakness or naivety, maybe. “I don’t know…”

“But…” I prompt.

“But sometimes it’s good to know when something is going to be too much for you too quickly.”

“So you agree with her.”

“Maybe, Evie. Why? Do you still fancy him?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, do you think there’s a chance he’d feel the same?”

“I dunno that either.” I feel my face starting to get hot, and I’m agitated, too warm and too hungry. All of the things that seemed right last night seem a bit muddled this morning, and as I think of Jude, and the places where his hands were, his mouth doing those things to mine, it’s freaky to imagine that the person he was kissing into the wall was me. In the chalk white of this Saturday morning, I find it hard to rectify that. I’ve remembered who I really am now; a girl who never does things like that, she’d be way too shy to. 

The zip of our neighbouring tent flies open then, and Jude’s torso spills out onto the ground. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, stained slightly pink in the wash, and his hair is tousled. The abruptness of his exit makes my skeleton nearly eject itself from my skin. I sit pinned to the spot and pray that he didn’t hear any of our conversation.

He’s rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, and his voice is croaky. “What are you guys eating?”

“Brioche.” Claire tells him.

“Is there enough for me too?”

She tosses the packet to him, but she has a bad aim and it lands about two meters away. He has to get up and get it himself. He comes out of the tent with a pair of sports shorts on, and even though I’ve seen the expanse of his long tanned legs a dozen times before, I still feel shy and have to look at something else. 

“Such a good shout, brioche.” He says, tearing open the plastic wrapper and taking a bite out of one. 

“Are you forgetting something?” Claire says to him cheekily, and his head jerks up to meet my eyes for just a moment. He looks alarmed, but then relief comes over his face as he realises I’m not expecting him to do or say anything. 

“Oh, It’s your eighteenth!” He says to her “Happy birthday! Welcome to the club.”

“Thank you!”

He gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then instead of taking the seat next to me, he sits way down across the circle. I’m immediately acutely aware of him, and his demeanour is throwing me. He hasn’t said anything directly to me yet, nor is he really looking at me at all. He’s looking off somewhere distantly, just eating the bread with glassy eyes. A pit of uncertainty settles in my stomach and I start to feel slightly panicked. I don’t want to be around him anymore, it’s too stressful. I wish that I could make myself disappear. Eventually I make up an excuse about needing to get something in the tent, and I crawl in there and stay until everybody else wakes up. 

Shortly enough the campsite creeps to life. Bodies crawl out of tents and begin their trudge to the horrible toilets and down to the coffee stands, moving past our campsite with grey complexions, like a crowd of benevolent zombies. Jen and the others eventually come out too, and when I re-emerge from my cocoon we all sit around tucking into what little food Claire and I bought until it’s nearly gone. I don’t mention that we didn’t plan to feed everyone, and in fact the food we brought was supposed to last us for the whole weekend, because I think it might be uncool to say that. 

Shane fumbles in his pocket and produces a single birthday candle, which he sticks into the last piece of brioche indelicately, lights it and places it in Claire’s hands. “Happy birthday” he grins. “You can drink legally now.”

She laughs gleefully. “Yes, legally. And vote, more importantly, and get my licence.”

“You’re not going to learn to drive though, really, are you?”

“Why would I do that when I have you to taxi me around?” She blows out the candle and we all cheer for her. 

Then Shane turns to me, having to make a dig at me as usual. “Now Evie’s the only one who’s still a little child.”

“I’m not a child.” I grumble. “I’m eighteen in march.”

“Such a wee baby, sure march is seven months away.” 

“Yeah, ha ha. Shut up.”

I glance over at Jude and he just looks awkward. “What’s on the agenda today, Jenny?” He asks, swiftly ignoring us.

She takes out her trusty band schedule and starts listing off the names of who’s playing today. “That rave thing is on later on” She adds. “Starting at like midnight, so we can go to that if you’re all up for it.” We all agree that it would be fun, and if we’re not going to stay up all night and party on Claire’s birthday then when will we ever. 

Prev // Next

[miscellaneoussmp]

I've been writing for eleven days straight, yipee!! Anyway, here's three girls and three means of escape:

The blue bird knows she's lucky. She knows that they treat her like something precious. Maybe it's because she's a 'success'. In what? She'll never understand. She likes it when she meets the people who are new. The ones whose mask just slip a little and laugh at her jokes and little games. She reads and writes and is allowed to wander white halls all by herself! Sometimes, they ask her if she wants anything, and she always has the same answer. She wants to go outside. She wants to see the sun and feel the wind. They always have the same answer, no. The books she reads always talk about how nice the sun is. The blue bird always wanted to be free, even if her cage was nice to her.

It was impluse really, not exactly a plan. The blue bird had noticed how there weren't many of them around. She ran down pristine white hallways until she got to the end. A door. A portal to another world. The sun is warm, just like her books said. It is bright and warm, the words on pages didn't lie to her. The wind smelt like salt and felt amazing against her feathers. There was so much to see and feel. This was better. In her race with the world, the blue bird found a train station with a train! She remembers reading about how people would go from one place to another on a train. With the speed of running and her little wings flapping behind her, she just managed to just stand on the back of the train, leaving the station. The wind in her wings, the sun on her skin, the world felt nice.

The duckling had already left the white walls a long time ago. She hid behind trees and under the earth. She made books out of scrap and twine to document her experience. For her sake more than anyone else. The duckling did her exploring in early dawn or dusky evening. She never called out to them, even if whatever traces they left on her very being demanded it. Her soft yellow feathers, only just past being down, were starting to grow in again. She explored. She learned. She planned for an escape. It's what she did best, teetering on the edge of success and failure.

This plan was set into motion. A plane tended to land on the flattest peice of land on the island (they're on an island, she discovered). This land was out in the open, but the plane landed land in the evening and left at dawn. It was a cycle, for supplies the duckling guessed. She just had to wait a little longer. For everyone to move away from the plane, her escape, for just long enough so she could run on board. She would fly, but her wings are still sparse. She wishes she could fly, like the plane, like her escape. She was never taught. Maybe she could learn once she was gone, away from here. Now! Here's her chance! She dashed across the open field, yellow hidden among the similarly colored flowers. The pilots must have not heard her as she made her way on board without much grace. She ducks herself behind a seat, holding one of her books of scrap and twine. The duckling will finally be able to fly.

The cat was born feral and not made for fake perfection. She was born with flesh in her mouth and a scent of fear clinging to her. She's tried to hide all that behind redemption and a tree house. It's a past she can't really remember. She has everything she could need here. The cat wasn't made for being still. Frenzied eyes and the scent of iron cling to her memory. The rest of his face remains hidden in her mind. She'll die here. The shadow that sometimes hides in her periphery and laughs at her doesn't help things. It does the exact opposite, actually. She's going to die. She needs to leave.

The cat overhears a conversation while hiding in the tree she calls home. There will be a boat, leaving this island. That's her ticket out of here. It hurts her softened heart to leave her animal companion. She leaves notes, documentation of her existence, hoping to be remembered and found. The cat hopes that whoever finds her notes, her evidence that she even existed, takes good care of her orange furred companion. The boat is docked, beached more like, awkwardly as boxes and people are moved on and off it. The cat is grateful for her shift movements as she bolts up the ramp onto the ship. She doesn't think anyone saw her. If they did, they're not making much of a fuss. Her hiding spot ends up being against a wall behind a large shipping container.

Jaiden inspects her look in the mirror. When did her hair become brown? She thought it was blue. Maybe it's just her imagination or those strange dreams she's been having lately. Her mom calls her down for dinner. They're going to the park after. Jaiden runs down the stairs as fast as her little legs can take her.

Baghera wakes up, and her wings hurt. Her papa says it's just her real feathers growing in, but her wings are sparce. Maybe it's how she's sleeping. She's never slept well. She always has nightmares. Now's not the time to think about it. She has to pack for the airport; they're going on vacation.

Bagi cleans her apartment, and she's suddenly overcome with the sense that she misplaced something. Did she forget something of hers the last time she left the apartment? When was that again? Maybe she's just getting a sense of deja vu from her dreams again. She continues cleaning, wondering why she can't get this red stain off her carpet.

[ask-sibverse]

Prompt: hiking date with Killer (As much fun as explicitly diabetic related situations are, it's nice to do some things where the main focus isn't diabetes. I do have another diabetes focused drabble planned, but for now, fluff! Mostly.) Set in the same version of things as this

TW: violent intrusive thoughts

(Like this? Want more? Send a prompt!)

Cgm, check. Pump set to activity mode (one of the author's favorite damn settings about the Omnipod), check. A boatload of granola bars and other low blood sugar snacks to shove in your inventory, check. Plenty of water? Got it.

"I think I'm ready," you said.

Killer had suddenly texted you that he's taking you on a hike, before immediately backtracking and asking if it was too much with your diabetes. You tried to resist the urge to smack him as you reminded him you swim regularly in the summer and did martial arts several times a week for years. You know how to balance diabetes and exercise.

So here you were now and hour later about to go on a date with Killer. Was it a date? He hadn't called it one. It could just be a friendly, platonic outing. You shouldn't make things weird.

But you were ready to go, either way. You walked out of your room to find Killer on the couch with your cat. Cats are tiny hunters and Killer is, well... Yeah. So it didn't really surprise you that he got along great with your cat. Said cat was currently purring in his lap.

"I'm ready to go."

"I'm trapped, go on without meeeee."

You stared at him. "I don't even know where we're supposed to be hiking."

"Oh yeah. But the caaaaat."

You snorted and scooped up your cat. He meowed in complaint but let you move him off the murder skeleton. "Lets get going, shall we?"

He nodded eagerly. "You ever been to Mount Ebbott?"

"No, I don't think I have."

"Its not too horrible a hike, and the view is great from the entrance to the Underground."

"Okay, let me get my car keys."

"Why bother? You've got someone with you who can teleport."

"I keep forgetting that."

Killer snorted and extended his hand. "Hang on tight."

Shortcuts were sometimes more disorienting than portals. Portals you at least were passing through something to get from point A to point B, shortcuts you were one place and then you blinked and were somewhere else. So to suddenly be in the woods at the base of Mt Ebbott took a moment for your mind to catch up with.

Killer started dragging you up the path as soon as you collected yourself. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and it was just the two of you on the mountain.

"Is it usually this peaceful?" You asked. "I don't think anyone is up here."

"Depends on the AU, and the time of year," Killer said. "But yeah, no one but us here right now." He paused. It seemed like thoughts were running through his mind. "I could do anything to you, and no one would know."

"Killer."

"I wouldn't, I promise!"

"Killer."

You sighed. "What's going through your head?"

"... That no one would hear you scream. That I could chase you through the woods and kill you, watch my knives make you into a pincushion and no one would find out until it was too late. But I won't do that, promise!"

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Do we need to go back? It sounds like your mind is getting to you."

"No! Ill be fine, I want to show you the view from the top!"

"Alright, I trust you."

So you filled the silence to give him a distraction. Talking about your hobbies and cats, asking what he and the gang had been up to. It seemed to work, at least to distract him if it didn't fix things. You almost didn't notice the entrance to the Underground until you were about to fall in, Killer having to grab you by the collar of your jacket.

"Don't fall in. You're not a Frisk." he snorted. You stuck your tongue out before turning.

The view took your breath away. You could see all of Ebott City from here and the surrounding valley. You could imagine how incredible it must feel to see this for the first time after centuries kept underground.

"This is..."

"Incredible, yeah. I saw it a few times before my human really lost it."

You squeezed his hand gently. "I hope Chara doesn't reset here, I'd hate for everyone to lose this." Especially your friends

"Eh, who knows." He shrugged. "Don't have a high opinion of most of those brats. Or humans in general."

"What about me?"

"You're... Different. Special."

[imtwoburdsbitch]

This is my setup so far!

Things might change in the future but so far, I’m pretty happy with it!

Before anyone says anything I know a lot of the items I got were a bit extra and that cheaper alternatives are available but, this is one “big” tax splurge/birthday present!

I'm going to do my best to keep this up to date as things develop!

Cage/Perches

C&C Outdoor Large Cat Cage Enclosure - 4/5

So far I love this cage! With the set up pictured above, I actually ended up with extra panels to expand further in the future.

This cage offers a lot of versatility and would be great for odd shaped spaces or tight spaces that might require a little bit more creativity!

As far as durability goes, I would say that is pretty average for a C&C cage. With that being said... USE THE ZIP TIES! Or invest in additional wire cage supports or else the first time you move it... it will fall apart!

Pros

Weight - Light weight, easy to move and and tare down!

Price Point - Affordable and way cheaper than traditional bird cages of the same size!

Versatility/Customization - This is a build your own cage set! You can go wild and pretty much do whatever you want!

Add-ons - Because this is a C&C cage there are a lot of options for expansions and a lot of add-ons (ramps, doors, patios, etc) that can be bough!

Cons

Durability - So long as your using extra supports the durability isn't an issues. Without the supports... this is going to fall apart the first time you move it!

Bar Spacing - The bar spacing on this is large! 1.65" (4.1 cm). Because of the bar spacing your going to need to get a 2" Fender Washer in order to attach most standard bird accessories. An easy fix but something to be aware of!

Cleaning - Because this cages relies on joints there are plastic pieces that jut into the cage and run the risk of being pooped on. If they are pooped on... You will have to take apart a large chunk of the cage and remove the joint to clean it... It's a pain in the ass.

Corrugated Plastic Cage Liner Base 3/5

This works just as intended! It keeps what it needs to in and what it needs to out! It can be laid flat, and folded for storage if need be.

Pros

It works! Keeps poop and seed inside!

Cleaning - Easy to wipe down and poop doesn't seem to stick to the surface! Water and weatherproof is also a plus!

Cons

Price Point - I, admittedly, did not do my research before purchasing this base! This could have easily been made for about half the price from a local hardware or craft store with a sheet of Corrugated Plastic and either some hot glue or, if I wanted to get fancy, some Plastic Chicago Screws.

Cleaning - While the outside is easy enough to clean, corrugated plastic is hallow-ish on the insides and is IMPOSSIBLE to clean! To avoid dust build up you can use a length Rubber Edge Trim along the top! Make sure you check the with of your Corrugated Plastic before buying any trim.

Perch 4/5

It's a perch, it do what it do. Nothing super exciting.

Pros

It works as intended!

Cons

The shorter perch was NOT pink, lol. Not important to most people but it is important to notes that its defiantly more orange.

Lining/Hammock - 5/5 (I'm bias because I made them, lol!

The lining is simply two pieces of Anti-Pill Plush Fleece sewn to size! Anit-pill fleece is stain resistant, easy to clean and soft to the touch!

Pros

Price Point - Much cheaper then pre-made linings!

Reusable - Simply wash and reuse! No reoccurring monthly expense for something like puppy pads!

Customizable - Make them any color or all the colors!

Easy to Make - For real! Sewing a full bottom lining takes me about 30 mins from start to finish! If sewing isn't your think you could do it tie blanket style or simply cut a piece of fabric to size and call it good!

Food/Water

3 in 1 Cat Bowl - 5/5

I love this this feeder! Not only is it super cute but, it allows you to lock the bowls in place, preventing them form moving. The angled sides of the bowl also really help to keep seed where it should be! This is super easy to clean and the fact that it has two bowls and a gravity feed water dispenser makes it perfect for pigeons!

Pros

One stop shop - because of the two bowls and the separate water dish this works great for offering see, grit and water all separate!

Bowl Position - This feeder has a star shaped grid in the bottom that allows you to change the position of the bowls. This allows you to turn the bowl so the raised edge is facing the water dish preventing water from getting into your grit and feed!

Cons

Seeds under bowl - Because the bottom of the bowl holder is open if there are seeds under it the bowl becomes difficult to lock into place. Not a big deal but it can be annoying to deal with!

Water riser - The water dish has a white, circle riser that is open in the center. It's not a huge deal, Mango got use to it after his second attempt, and it's totally removable!

Toys/Enrichment

I'll make this part short and sweet, lol!

Mango doesn't care at all about anything but his Brick. Bitches love bricks.

10 PC Cat Toy set

Mirror

Doughnut Dog Toy

Cake Foraging Toy

Snuffle Mat

Brick

Nesting Pink Bed

Crinkle Paper

Paper Straws

Hay Feeder

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Island Sandbox: Miniature Barking Whales

Another thing for @alex51324 and the Island! I now have TWO things that need editing and transferring to Ao3! Go me!

Blame for this one goes to @o-rchidae and the picture of seals in the Hebrides...

-

It had stopped raining. What’s more, it looked like it might not start up again for an hour or so. Taking advantage of the good weather, Thomas decided to take a bit of a stroll and stretch his legs. Lighting a cigarette, he thought a moment, then headed out toward the Point. There wasn’t really anything out there, except for Lord Hexham’s cottage, and he didn’t think he’d walk the entire way, but there was a bluff (at least he thought that was the proper name) falling away to the sea that provided a rather nice view. It seemed the safest way to relax without risking someone coming up and asking him questions or trying to press gang him into a community event. The worst that could happen was that he ran across someone else taking a stroll.

He wandered down the path at a leisurely pace, listening to the shore birds and absently pondering the business of the town. Hugh and James planned on getting married that weekend. He wondered if the weather would hold. Of course, they’d be married in the church, but even that was more pleasant if the weather was nice. If nothing else, the building was a bit drafty. The same could not be said of the Main House - that was just crowded. Even with his own room he was getting a bit antsy to move out. A cottage would be beyond his means, and he’d yet to settle on anyone to step out with himself (there were options, of course, but every time he tried weighing them he wound up second guessing himself), but perhaps the others wouldn’t mind if he moved into the flat above the Beacon. There would be advantages, having someone on hand all hours, surely, although he didn’t really fancy the idea of someone waking him up at midnight because they’d thought of a last minute addition to this week’s issue. He’d have to be adamant about the shop’s ‘Closed’ sign.

“Thomas! Oi, Thomas!” Gordon’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts, calling him back to reality. The younger man was standing a way’s off, waving him over excitedly. Once it was clear he’d been seen, he added, “I think there’s a group of whales down on the rocks!”

Thomas frowned at that and started walking over. Gordon was standing on the edge of the bluff, not close enough to risk a tumble down the steep rocks, but plenty close to see the shoreline. Once he was within ear shot, Thomas pointed out, “I don’t think whales lay on rocks, Gordon. Whale’s are fish.” He rethought that. Hadn’t he read some sort of argument about that when he was younger? The scientists saying they weren’t actually fish, but most people not listening? “Or, well, they’re like fish at any rate.” He certainly couldn’t see the difference.

Gordon frowned at him, then looked down the rocky face of the bluff. “What’re those then?”

Cautiously, Thomas walked up next to him and looked down. This close to the water there was a good, stiff breeze, even with the clear sky, and while he didn’t think a good gust would send them over, it wasn’t worth the risk. It took him a moment to see what the younger man was looking at, but then something caught his eye. “Oh, no, those are seals.”

Gordon tilted his head and frowned. “Wot’s the difference?”

“Well, seals can come up on land, for one,” Thomas pointed out. Then he had to stop and think, because honestly, he didn’t really know a lot about the subject. You might as well have asked him the difference between cats and dogs - he knew, of course, but explaining was difficult. “And seals are a lot smaller. Whales are huge, like the size of a small boat.”

“Wot, like the supply boat?” Gordon stared at him, disbelieving.

“At least. I think some of the larger ones might be bigger than that. But they aren’t as big as one of the really big ships, the ones that go across the ocean.” Thomas was fairly certain he’d gotten that right. He knew that whaling ships, for instance, were larger than the whales they caught, but they were also much larger than the supply boat. He definitely got the feeling that actual whales were in between. “And I don’t know that whales make any noise. Seals sort of bark.”

Gordon looked back down at the greyish shapes beneath them. “Like dogs?”

“Sort of like, yes.”

“What do they do?”

Thomas shrugged, dropping the fag end of his cigarette. “Not much, I don’t think. They swim and eat fish and lay about on rocks, like that.” He gestured at the base of the cliff. “And people make hats and coats out of their fur.” He frowned again, thinking. “I think people eat them, in some places.”

“They don’t look like they’d taste very good,” Gordon frowned, wrinkling his nose. “I mean, they look awful fat.”

“So do pigs. Doesn’t stop you from eating bacon.”

“No, but if they taste like bacon, wouldn’t everyone eat them?”

“I suppose,” Thomas had to concede the point.

About that time, one of the seals barked. The sound echoed up the bluff and made Gordon jump. “That’s wot they sound like?”

“It is.”

“’S like a swimming dog,” the younger man proclaimed, echoing Thomas’s earlier assessment on the sound. “It really is.”

Thomas shrugged. “I told you.”

“I know you did, I just…” Gordon rocked back on his heels a bit and cast a puzzled look down toward the water. “It’s sort of different, hearing it like that.”

A crunching noise behind them drew Thomas’s attention and he turned to find Lord Hexham walking up behind them. The aristocrat smiled in greeting. “Good afternoon. Sorry if I’m interrupting, but I couldn’t help being curious. Is there something interesting down there?”

“Just a group of seals,” Thomas replied. “Gordon hadn’t seen them before.”

“Oh, charming!” With a broad smile, Lord Hexham moved up on Thomas’s free side and peered down. Reaching into the satchel he normally carried with him, he came up with a notebook and a graphite pencil. Balancing the notebook on his arm, he started doing a very loose sketch of the scene below. “I’ve always had a fondness for seals. It was one of the few things I missed in Tangiers.”

“Don’t they have seals in Morocco then?” It was the first Thomas had heard of it, but there again he didn’t really take an interest.

“They had seals, but they were different.” The aristocrat paused, peering down at the lounging wildlife, then going back to his sketch. “They didn’t have the spots, and they just aren’t the same without them, don’t you know?”

“I suppose they wouldn’t be.” That was another thing Thomas had never spared a thought for.

“Did they have whales?” Gordon asked, with the usual lack of deference he showed everyone.

Fortunately, Lord Hexham wasn’t much of one to stand on ceremony. If having a street urchin treat him as an equal had ever bothered him (and Thomas figured it had to have, at least in the beginning), he’d done a good job of not showing it. Now he simply replied, “Oh yes. Whales, dolphins, they were common sights if you went out on the water.”

“Wot’s a dolphin?” Gordon asked, frowning down at the seals as if they could somehow tell him the difference better than the man on the shore.

After a moment’s deliberation and sketching, Lord Hexham said, “They’re like whales only smaller. They also have a sort of beaky looking snout, and they jump a lot more.”

That got Gordon’s attention. “Whales jump? ‘Ow?”

“I’m not entirely certain,” the aristocrat admitted. “That is, they don’t have legs and there’s nothing for them to push off against. But it’s sort of like salmon at a weir, don’t you know?” He looked at Gordon, then rethought that. “Or, no, I suppose you wouldn’t know.” He thought another minute, then tried again, “They sort of throw themselves out of the water in an arching motion. Whales only do it occasionally. Normally you just see their backs as they come up, blow water out of their blow holes, and go back down. Dolphins get quite active.”

Thomas watched Gordon try and digest that bit of information. Then a thought occurred to him. “Is there a book in one of the libraries about sea life? There might be pictures.” Gordon’s reading skills weren’t up to snuff, although they’d gotten their hands on a couple of primers. He was more than able to look at pictures, though. And if the book explained why whales weren’t fish, then someone else could explain that to him.

Lord Hexham paused in his sketching, obviously trying to remember if he’d seen such a thing. “I’d be surprised if there weren’t. I don’t remember exactly what we’ve had sent over, but I know there were several requests for scientific volumes. Mr. Braceridge was especially keen to have books on nature available, although a lot of that was trees and birds. Still, it seems there should be something about sea life.” With a sheepish grin he added, “The closest I remember seeing, though, was a collection of folk lore. There was at least one story about selkies.”

“Wot’s a selkie?” Gordon half-demanded, his jaw starting to jut out. Apparently he’d had about as much new terminology as he could take in a day.

Figuring that even on an island like this there was only so much impudence a Marquess should be expected to stand (and allowing that Lord Hexham was rather nice, for a toff), Thomas explained that one. “They’re a sort of fairy. The stories say that they swim around all day looking like seals, but at night they take off their seal skins and turn into pretty ladies who dance around naked on shore. If you could make off with their skin, they had to marry you, but if they ever found their skin they’d leave forever.” Thomas had frequently wondered why there were never any male selkies, but he figured that had to do with who was telling the stories.

Gordon looked unimpressed. “Why would they dance around naked?”

Thomas shrugged. “Probably because the seal skins were their only clothes, and it’d hard to dance when you’re a seal? Anyway, it’s not real. It’s just a story, probably to explain why sailors came back from sea to find their wives run off.”

“I always thought it was a warning against coercing someone into marrying you,” Lord Hexham countered mildly. “After all, fisher’s wives are generally given a choice. Selkies never are.”

“I suppose you have a point.”

Gordon looked down at the seals. “So those aren’t selkies then?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “No, they aren’t. And if they are, they’re safe dancing. No interest in making naked women marry you on this island.”

To his surprise, Lord Hexham added in, “And even if there were male selkies, I don’t see it working out. After all, the doctors would make you both go through counseling before the wedding.”

[song-ofthesky]

(the late) Papagena, the Missing Bell.

If there’s anything Papageno will swear to you with all the earnestness in his heart, it was that Papagena was real. Yes, she had the same name as him- it was really wild coincidence. Yes, she kept out of the eye of other cats, so nobody ever saw much of her. And yes, she had all sorts of eccentricities about her that make her sound like she was some sort of imaginary friend. But she was real. The most real cat he ever knew.

She was always very secretive about where she came from- she only said she had a family life that she didn’t want to talk about, and Papageno didn’t want to pry. He first met her when he found her lying in the street, half-dead. A car had hit her while she was out running an errand, and nobody had come to help. He took her in and nursed her back to health, and they instantly clicked. (Papageno remembers what it was like when he first introduced himself to her properly. He said his name, and she hesitated- and then laughed, telling him what a coincidence her name turned out to be.) Once she was better enough to move on, she chose to stay with him anyway, and they quickly fell in love. They planned their entire future together: They’d get married in May, they’d catch birds together to provide, they’d adopt all their children... It was picture-perfect. When she felt uneasy about things she didn’t want to tell anyone about, she’d ask Papageno to tell her what their wedding would be like and about their future children, and she’d fall asleep to the sound of his chatter.

She did have her many eccentricities. She loved shiny things, just as Papageno does, but she didn’t seem to enjoy mirrors. She loved blue skies and was scared of thunderstorms, but at times she would look up into those big blue skies and be filled with some great sense of loss, bawling into her arms and shooing away her partner when he attempted to console her. She was polydactyl but didn’t seem to like when it was pointed out. She was a natural at birdcatching, but she seemed uncertain of how hunting worked; watching her attempt to figure it out on her own was often a lot like watching a child attempting to swing around a stick like a sword. She loved bells- the sound of them, their shiny sheens, the way they moved; she always made sure to have at least a few on her person as a good-luck charm. And she was incredibly secretive. She could talk for hours, but she never wanted to talk about anything that was bothering her.

Eventually, this secretiveness led to an argument between her and Papageno one night near the start of spring. He felt she wasn’t trusting him. She felt he wasn’t giving her space. Eventually, the two agreed to spend the night on their own, recollecting their thoughts so they could talk in the morning and come to an agreement. But when Papageno went looking for her, she was gone. He soon came across a muddy spot on the edge of a park. There were deep claw marks in the mud, and patches of blood-soaked fur. And… her lucky bells, in the middle of it, crumpled slightly into the ground with spatters of her blood coating them. He knew, Hell or high water, she’d never leave those behind, and it didn’t take him long to figure out what had happened to her in the night.

He blames himself for her death to this day. If he hadn’t argued with her, if he hadn’t asked about it. He took her bells and strung them up together as a little keepsake he always has with him. It’s the only thing he really has to remember her by- he tried to look for ages for someone else that might’ve known her, but seeing other cats is incredibly rare for him, and when he did manage to ask all her name drew was a blank stare.

Papageno’s been lonely before, of course. But it always stings when he goes back to his nest at the end of a long day and sees the empty space he had built for her, her scent disappearing from it more and more every day.

[ukigumos]

Normally I’d send in separately, but I figured this time around I can just send in one thing for two muses. This is my first lil drabble gift for ya. Essentially, you are free to do what you wish with this drabble. You can reply to it, post it as it, hoard it like a dragon, treat it as canon (or otherwise), etc. Hope you like it!

-

“Ou! Hibari!” The athlete jogs right up to Hibari with his classic, friendly, dog-like smile. He found Hibari while there weren’t many others around, which was perfect considering Hibari hated crowding. He made sure to tell the others to go on without him first so there was less of a ‘crowd.’

“It’s a day early, but, Haru says that it’s always better to be early than to be late.” He holds something out for Hibari to take.

It was a bento box carefully wrapped in a purple cloth.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow, isn’t it? Didn’t think we’d be able to find you tomorrow, so… the idea was to give you something today.” A sheepish grin followed by a lighthearted laugh.

How Haru knew about his birthday, he didn’t know. She simply answered with, ‘Haru has her sources,’ whatever that means.

He wasn’t sure if Hibari would accept the gift or not, let alone appreciate it.

{"Don’t you worry, Yamamoto-kun! Haru is 90% sure that he’ll accept it if you hand it to him in the morning. Though, you should probably do so when others aren’t around."}

That’s what she said but—Yamamoto still wasn’t so sure. Hibari was like a cat, it could hiss at you at any moment unprovoked. He wasn’t sure what he’d tell her if Hibari rejected the gift for he didn’t eat anything prepared by others. Just something about the guy gave off the vibe that Hibari would only accept gifts from a very select number of people.

He thought that maybe there was a stronger chance of him accepting the gift if it came from Haru (she was a hamster, after all). He fails to understand that Yamamoto was so dog-coded that he was basically a shiba inu when he smiles.

“Haha, Haru told me her plans a few days ago to make a bento for your birthday and I thought it sounded fun, so I asked to join in. She made the hamburg steak, while I had the easy job of making the onigiri. Haru showed me how to cut the nori to make them look like birds.”

They turned out cute if he had to say so himself. Though it was a bit awkward visiting Haru’s home so early in the morning to prepare the bento, it was also kind of fun (so as long as he can ignore the stares boring into the back of his head from her father)!

Ever the team player, this one.

“There’s something else, hold on a sec.” He starts to rummage through his school bag looking for it. He had it tucked away carefully in his bag somewhere, but it may have shuffled when he was walking.

.

-Mini Flashback-

“Hahi? What Hibari-san likes?” Haru raises an eyebrow at the fact that someone who attends the same school as the upcoming birthday boy was asking this of a person who goes to another school. Shouldn’t he know more about Hibari than she does?

“Well, you know, you had that phase of interviewing people, right?” Yamamoto chuckles at the fact Haru wasn’t bothering to hide her look of confusion. Maybe during her interviews, or her time visiting the birds she picked up on something he didn’t know.

That seemed to be a reasonable explanation for Haru as she started thinking about it. “Haru thinks… he likes hamburg steak. He takes naps, and he really likes animals. He has a nice smile when he interacts with the Hibirds, you know?”

Knowing he likes hamburg steak was the reason why she planned to put it into the bento she was going to make for the prefect.

There was something else that Haru noticed that he seemed to like, but she wasn’t going to speak on that just yet. “Oh- you know? Haru may have an idea. How about this?”

- End Mini Flashback-

.

“There it is. Ah… here.” Yamamoto places a small object on top of the bento and sheepishly smiles. It’s a small bird plush holding a small toothpick flag with a dog drawn a bit clumsily on it.

The craftsmanship between the flag and the bird plush was day and night, so it shouldn’t be difficult to guess who made what. “Haru made the plush herself. She thought maybe the birds would like having a friend. Haha, it’s a bit clumsy, but I made the flag. You can’t have a hamburg steak without a flag, right?” He grins sheepishly, feeling a bit embarrassed by how the flag turned out.

It at least had the structural integrity to survive being placed in his bag, but the dog he drew on the flag was a bit… simple. He wasn’t an artist, but you could at least tell what he drew was a dog. (Haru wouldn’t lie to him to spare him his feelings, right? She said she could tell it was a dog)

“Right, Haru said that once your finished with the bento, she’ll come and pick it up some day in the future. Haru’s been getting some tips on cooking from Tsuna’s mom, so the taste is guaranteed.” Before the morning bell rang, Yamamoto had to get going to class.

With a casual wave of the hand, he starts briskly walking to class.

In the bento was the aforementioned hamburg steak, the bird onigiri Yamamoto made, tamagoyaki (a classic that Haru wouldn’t budge on), and a small salad. There was also a note that sat on top of the lid of the bento box.

[A very happy birthday surprise, right? ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ Make sure to eat everything for the nutrients! ]

UKIGUMOS - »❝浮雲❞«

Birthdays were trivial in the eyes of Hibari Kyouya. The idea of participating in the tradition seemed rather pointless to him. In fact, until it was brought up, he had forgotten.

Birthday. Tomorrow. Suddenly, that explained the restlessness of Kusakabe Tetsuya.

Being pulled aside by Yamamoto Takeshi made his heart skip. There was a stutter to his heartbeat and Kyouya couldn't pinpoint why. Perhaps it was from genuine surprise to be approached first, especially after it felt like he was being avoided.

Kyouya simply let the student talk, unraveling the bento to check its contents as he listened. It wasn't because he didn't trust the two that worked on it, it was more so a force of habit. To his delight, inside contained his favourites. Despite his cold demeanour, Kyouya had an appreciation towards art and this was... cute. The cherry on top had to be the plush and flag, however.

If one were to look closely, they'd notice the tiniest twinkle in Kyouya's eyes. His deadpan look veiled his sudden good mood.

Once Yamamoto Takeshi's back was turned, a small smile slipped and he called out.

"Yamamoto Takeshi, your tail."

He pointed to an untucked portion of Yamamoto's shirt towards the back.

The next day on his birthday, his desk would be occupied by a little bird plush and an empty bento box. His birds had taken a liking to their new friend, it seemed. Kyouya twisted the toothpick flag between his finger and observed the poorly drawn dog. He snickered to himself. Cute.