#critter fics

[dappercritter]

(Edit by me)

METROID FIC IS POSTED!

PLEASE ENJOY!

[mynamesaplant]

Forgiveness is Electric

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

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“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

[martiansodas-blog]

Art x reader meeting the readers parents and it's an absolute mess:(

(bonus points if he finds her old room and plays with her calico critters and plushies)

ok my brain automatically went to older! art soooo…

your parents knew 2 things about your new boyfriend.

1- he’s successful.

and 2- he’s a couple years older than you.

a couple years is an understatement.

but you figured once they met him and saw how sweet he treated you it wouldn’t matter!

this did not turn out to be the case.

your mom and dad took one look at him and made a snap judgment.

they knew his type, (supposedly.)

old money. a younger girl on his arm. cold and aloof. power hungry.

it’s a shame. this couldn’t be farther from the truth.

art donaldson may be a weapon on the court, but behind closed doors he’s the little spoon who makes you heart shaped pancakes.

“so. where did the two of you meet?” your mother asks, more to be pleasant and less because she wants to know the answer.

“at work,” you said , fondly remembering the exchange, “he was-“

“heckling my daughter in the workplace?”

“mom.” you warn “no.”

“honey,” your dad reigns her in

she huffs and crosses her arms in defeat.

“i was needing some more tennis equipment, actually.” art chimes in,

“yeah he was looking for these fancy sweatbands but we didn’t carry any, we just sort of got to talking.”

your dad gave you both a soft smile

“well, you seem to make our little girl very happy.”

incoming call from: tashi

“speaking of little girl, that’s probably her saying goodnight. excuse me.”

art very politely stepped out onto the porch.

“he has a kid?” your mothers eyes looked like they could pop out of her head at any second. “honestly why on earth would you think this is a good idea?”

“yes he does and she’s very sweet. her names lily.” you said firmly.

“so what? you’re gonna be a stepmom in your early twenties? is that what you want?”

“i wanted to introduce the person i love to my parents. but obviously that was a bad idea.”

your dad ushers your mom into their bedroom. he gives you a apologetic glance before he closes the door.

you stood there, frozen in the entryway for an unknown amount of time. as long as it took for art to finish his call and rest his hands on your shoulders from behind.

“hey hey, what’s the matter? what happened?”

you didn’t realize you were crying until you started to speak. well, tried to speak anyway.

“they,” you sniffed, “she…i’m sorry,”

“oh honey,” he pulled you into a hug.

you buried your face in his toned chest.

“i should’ve known this would happen” you heaved, gripping his shirt.

“shh, shh it’s ok. this is most definitely not your fault.”

he stroked your back and pressed feather light kisses to your hairline until you calmed down. when you removed yourself there was a wet patch right in the middle of his torso.

“let’s go upstairs, yeah?” he suggested gently.

he was almost using his dad voice.

you nodded, grabbed his coarse hand and guided him up the steps.

“so this is your childhood bedroom?”

art took in the whimsy filled room. the ceiling was only about a foot taller than him.

“the one and only.” you managed to crack a smile.

it was just how you’d left it at 18. the walls were pink and green. a choice you’d made at 7 and never got around to changing.

you’re glad you never painted over it now, though. it makes you feel innocent again, like a time capsule you can walk into.

art strolled around the room. looking at drama club trophies that lined the bookshelf, the collection of calico critters and the photo booth films stuck on your mirror.

there was a good amount of dust on everything. it caused a pit in your stomach to open up.

“you ok?”

“yeah” you nodded, “just got a little carried away by nostalgia.”

art wasn’t sure if touch would be the right thing for you right now, so he opened his arms, giving you the option.

you hugged him without a second thought. like an instinct. you squeezed him with all your might, like a stress ball. art hardly felt it, though.

figures.

“meeting my family will go better. my grandmas already looking forward to it.”

you lifted your head to look at him.

“really?”

such a simple sentence gave you butterflies.

“yeah,” he chuckled, like it was obvious “i’ve told her all about you.”

you truly didn’t know what to say. so touched by the sincerity and excitement in his tone. it. it caused you to break into a smile, a real smile, for the first time since you’d got to your parents house.

“i’d like that very much.”

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

Dean in 1x17: I hate rats. Dean in 13x08: I mean, there could be anything in there. Anything, right? There could be spiders. There could be the spiny blade thing… Snakes. Spiders. Dean in 14x15: I'll, uh, keep an eye on the snake. [proceeds to be afraid of the snake that is locking up in Baby]

I think this Dean trait isn't used enough in fanfictions

[ratkingsewers]

There ain't enough content of these two, IF I GOTTA BE THE ONE TO DO IT THEN I WILL

[reputable-opportunist]

low on spoons and life stuff going on so heres a very fast doodle

[rafesfawn]

𝜗ৎ ⋆｡˚ wanna write a little something about rafe going into readers room and just seeing like jelly cats, calico critters, stuffed animals and sonny angels EVERYWHERE. and im totally not just saying that because thats what I collect and I can't invite any hoes over bc thats all they're gonna see.

[citruslullabies]

Can we please have some more dog moments from Dogday please?

Sure can do sweetheart! Dog moments from Dogday💚

Dogday is well.. extremely loyal

He waits for you every day, waiting patiently for you to come back to him. Fearful that one day you won't

But you always do, and he can't help but adore the loving hands that return to him and save him from himself and his story

The clock ticked effortlessly, each tick feeling like an hour but it had only been a minute. The large canine sighed as he waited by the door of the cabin you all called home, with Biscuits nuzzled into his side as he waited. Peanuts waited too, howling sometimes as he felt you took too long to come home and Cubby just kept her distance from everything until she knew you were home.

His floppy ears drooped even more, eyes weary as he thought of any possibility. Even after you had all left the factory, his heart still couldn't fathom the fact that they were all safe and he still worried for your safety when you were away. In a way, being in the outside world rather than the factory made him fear for you more. So when he heard the fumbling of keys and saw the door open, he immediately got up and greeted you with a wagging tail. "Angel! You're home. How was your day? Did anything happen at work?" He asked, following you around like a lost puppy dog when he was a grown man. He listened to you rant and ramble, listening and just glad you were home. He would lay by that door and rot if you hadn't.

Dogday doesn't like baths

He can tolerate them but... He isn't gonna like em

And he has no clue why, when he was a human he loved taking hot showers. Not it just felt like an inconvenience to him

Dogday grumbled as you forced his oversized body into the tub before turning on the faucet, ignoring his groans and stares of displeasure as his arms were folded over his golden chest. The warm water felt nice but something about having wet fur just irked him.

He felt your gentle hands rub the soap into his fur, and he didn't mind that.. he just didn't like when you'd get a plastic bowl and fill it up with water before dunking it on his head or wherever he was soapy. Grumbling every time you did and shaking as payback, getting you and everything surrounding you soaked. You turned your back for a moment, grabbing a brush to brush a knot you found in his fur.. and he took the chance. Slowly, he lifted himself up and tried to sneak out of the bathtub but was quickly caught red-handed.

"Dogday!" You scolded, walking back over and ignoring his big guilty puppy eyes as you got him back in the bathtub. He huffed and wanted to fight against you, but just gave up. You're lucky he loved you so much.

Time for the angst guys

Remember how I said he'd just lay and rot in front of the door if you didn't come back? Yeahhh..

He waited, and oh how he waited so very patiently. Waiting for hours with each tick that echoed through the house for you.

It had been days and he was scared, wanting to go out and look for you but you had told him to stay. And he was loyal to your demands... But he found himself too heavy to move and take care of himself or anyone else inside as long as you were gone. He continued to wait, ignoring a worried Poppy and Kissy. Ignoring the worried stares and even Cubby coming along and trying to get him to move despite her distaste for him.

He stayed and waited. And waited. And waited. Your scent started to leave the house, and that broke his heart. You smelled like nostalgia and home, like a fresh baked pie on thanksgiving but the home was now empty and abandoned. The pie now rotten and the good smell fading, all he could smell was the rain outside and the sadness he felt.

Nothing could make him move, and he continued to wait for you. And he would stay waiting for as long as it takes.

Thank you for requesting hon!

[critter-of-habit]

So, I was thinking. In episode 2, Billy tells Agatha that his mother went to a Lorna concert shortly before she died. If he doesn't have memories of Wanda, why did he lie?

He doesn't think of Wanda as his mother, he meant William's mom - and the phrasing is confusing because he is talking about two "she's" in the same sentance but he said his mom went to see Lorna's concert before Lorna died, not before his mom died.

[sarafinamk]

Fallen Angel 50 Incorrect Quotes Special

The Smiling Critters Space Riders Au and the character Z belongs to @onyxonline

If you haven't checked out the Fallen Angel (Reader Insert) series, you can check out Part 1 and Part 2 here. You, the reader, will be referred to as both (Y/n) and Archangel.

Right now, I need to focus on writing my thesis paper, so I'm not sure when Part 3 will be posted. In the meantime, enjoy this crackfic as an Easter present. Some quotes will contain slight spoilers for future chapters. 😉 Enjoy.

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*During a training session*

Hoppy: Fight me, you nerd ass punk!

Archangel: At least TRY to sound sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Kickin: Dost thou wish to engage in a duel, my good bITCH?!

Archangel: *Facepalms* Somehow, that was worse...

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Bobby: Are you having another depressive episode?

Archangel: A depressive episode?

Archangel: I'm having a depressive series and we're just on season one.

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Z: What's wrong with you?

Archangel: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

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Crafty: How’s training going?

Archangel: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there.

Crafty: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes.

Bobby: ...you shouldn’t be condoning this.

Crafty: Don’t tell me how to live my life.

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Archangel: Yesterday, I overheard the Captain saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Hoppy replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

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Archangel: Helpful grammar tip: “farther” is for physical distance, “further” is for methaphorical distance, and “father” is for emotional distance!

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Archangel: raises eyebrows

Dogday: Put those back down!

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Archangel: Problem, I can't tell if this food is over-sauced or undercooked.

Kickin: Solution, just pop it back in the oven for another 10 minutes. There's at least a 50% chance that'll fix it, right?

Bubba: Result? Food has somehow become unpleasantly soggy and unpleasantly crunchy at the exact same time.

Hoppy: No better time than this to pull out my favorite word! Slunchy!

Picky: …put it away.

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Picky: One time I went to hand (Y/n) a bowl of soup. I wanted to say “Careful, it’s hot!”, and “Here’s your soup!”, so instead I blurted out “Careful it’s soup.”

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*Preparing for a mission*

Hoppy: Okay, who's turn is it to give the pep talk?

Catnap: It's (Y/n)'s turn.

Archangel: Don't die.

Kickin, wiping a tear away: Truly inspirational.

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Archangel: I can't take you seriously wearing that.

Kickin: Aw, you take me seriously at all?

Archangel: Fair point.

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Dogday: My level of gay has reached “sighing deeply whenever anything extremely heterosexual happens near me”.

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Archangel to Bubba: How do you tell someone politely you want to hit them with a brick?

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Dogday: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Z: Yes.

Dogday: I love you.

Z: It back.

*Later*

Archangel: Why is the Captain crying face-down on the floor?

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*the Space Riders at Disneyland, in the teacups*

Crafty, Bobby, Bubba, and Picky: *spinning a little and talking*

Dogday, Catnap, Kickin, and Hoppy: *flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming*

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Hoppy: I've done a lot of dumb stuff.

Dogday: I witnessed the dumb stuff.

Catnap: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Kickin: I joined you in the dumb stuff.

Archangel: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!

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Archangel: This is a bad idea.

Hoppy: Then why are you coming along?

Archangel: Someone has to get your injured ass home.

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Archangel: I feel awful about killing you.

Z:

Archangel: Even though technically you never even died, so I don’t know what you’re bitching about.

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Dogday: Hoppy, don’t go picking a fight with (Y/n). Don’t forget, they’re powerful, they could make life difficult for you.

Hoppy: Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life.

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Dogday: I’m so happy both angels are getting along now.

Catnap: Uh, Z and (Y/n) are not getting along.

Dogday: They’re not trying to kill each other.

Catnap: You may have a point.

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Archangel: The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos.

Picky: Was Kissy's place out of chocolate-chip pancakes again?

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Kickin: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way.

Archangel: Did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way?

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Archangel, proudly: I slept.

Catnap: Is that so much of a rare thing that you have to say it?

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Archangel: You're a lying piece of shit!

Hoppy: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Dogday: I'm leaving and I'm taking Catnap with me!

Bubba, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

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Poppy: It’s funny how well you and the Archangel get along. Didn’t they hate you at first?

Dogday: (Y/n) hates everybody at first. It’s their way of reaching out to people.

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Bobby: lifting weights

Kickin: Wow… She's so intense!

Archangel: I wonder what drives her.

Bobby, internally: Oh I am going to be SO good at giving hugs.

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*First two chapters of "Fallen Angel" summarized*

Archangel: I'm allergic to death.

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Archangel: Hoppy, I don’t think I can handle any more of your tomfuckery.

Hoppy: Oh yeah? Well I can keep going until you’re all tomfuckered out!

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Hoppy: (Y/n), what are you doing tomorrow?

Archangel: Having my day ruined by whatever you’re about to ask me to do.

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Archangel: Someone will die.

Dogday: Of fun!

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Something crashes

Hoppy: Shoot-

Bobby: running into the room in a panic WHAT FELL?!

Archangel: walking by the room calmly What died?

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Archangel: Can you be serious for five minutes?

Kickin: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

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Someone with a gun to Archangel's head: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven?

Archangel: Bold of you to assume I'll go to Heaven.

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Catnap: I like to play this game called nap roulette. I take a nap and don’t set an alarm. Will it be 20 min or 4 hours? Nobody knows. It’s risky and I like it.

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Z: When did you become a hero?

Archangel: Um… the moment I saved you from getting killed.

Z: You’re the last person in the galaxy I wanted to rescue me.

Archangel: Well… sucks to be you, don’t it.

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Bubba: It’s just that lollipop sticks last longer than the head, even if they’re less flavorful. I’m thinking of paper sticks, because you can peel off the layers with your teeth or leave it there until they fall off naturally, but plastic sticks can be chewed on too or left sticking out like a cigarette. Paper straws can be eaten layer by layer over time though, so they have the edge.

Hoppy, bored: Can’t we just leave while he's distracted?

Archangel, genuinely interested: But what about wooden sticks?

Hoppy: I hate you.

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Archangel: I am convinced the Captain and Catnap share a brain cell.

Archangel: And it's not in use very often, it seems.

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Archangel: Why am I the bad guy?

Kickin: I don't know, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.

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Archangel: We’re having a moment, aren’t we?

Z: If by 'a moment' you mean me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met, then I guess we are.

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Kickin: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Picky: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Crafty: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned.

Bubba: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Bobby: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Archangel: I have emotional scars.

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Dogday: What leaves a bigger memory than a passionate kiss?

Archangel: A stab wound.

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Archangel: I sense hostility.

Z: Good, because I hate you.

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Archangel: slams down an absolute doorstopper of a tome I checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading.

Hoppy: This is light?!

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Archangel: What’s up with the Captain? He's been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?

Bobby: He's just a little overwhelmed.

Archangel: Why?

Catnap: Z smiled at him.

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Literally anyone: Go to hell!

Archangel: Where do you think I come from?

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Hoppy: Just trust me. Have I ever put you in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation?

Archangel: All the time.

Hoppy: Then you should be used to it by now.

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Archangel: I’m so tired.

Bubba: Did you get to bed late?

Archangel: No.

Bubba: Did you do something strenuous?

Archangel: No.

Bubba: Then why are you tired?

Archangel: I’m alive.

Bubba: Sounds exhausting.

----------

Archangel: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

----------

A cult member: Didn't you die?!

Archangel: That was weeks ago. Things change.

----------

Archangel: I’d kill someone if you asked me to.

Dogday: I’m pretty sure you’d kill someone even if I didn’t ask you to.

[muyru-iru]

CMO-Citrat: What happens if you mix caf with lots of spice? Commander Fox: Yes. CMO-Citrat: This is not an answer, Commander! Commander Fox: It totally describes me. So if you want an answer, study me. CMO-Citrat: You take drugs? Commander Fox: What? No? Why CMO-Citrat: I asked about caf and spice, what were you thinking? Commander Fox: Caf and spite CMO- Citrat: Good griefs…I thought I would have given you a talk. Meanwhile Stone, Vos and Thíre:

[dappercritter]

YEEEAEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!

I FINISHED THE ROUGH DRAFT FOR MY METROID FANFIC LET'S FUGGIN GO 2024!!!

[infinite-hearts-333]

MOVING.

After the events of meeting, Ouřa Thorn was suddenly dumped into the world of a Space Rider- much to their stress and horror. North Heat kept his promise, welcoming Thorn into his home with opens arms, but let’s just say not all of the crew are as enthusiastic about this sudden arrival.

Thorns soon to be bestie belongs to @moonspiritleaf ! (Who came up with the idea of Zane being cautious of thorn to begin with >:P )

Au belongs to @onyxonline !

Thorn stood before the door. It was sleek, smooth, almost a mahogany coloured wood. It was nothing like the plain, not properly smoothed oak door that was the entrance to their home for the last 5 and a half years.

The box in Thorns arms felt impossibly heavy in their scaled arms- although nothing but a few items of clothes, and their poster sat in the box, their little tool box sitting neatly on top. It was embarrassing, how little they have- but well Thorn was to busy working usually to worry about getting more things. And even if they did, where would they have put them?

I don’t deserve to be here.

Thorn swallowed faintly, still staring at the door. So much changed, so fast.

After Ouřa Thorn had woken, one thing was on their mind. To find the Rangers, and make sure they were okay. The memories of the fear and frantic running was mostly blurred, but apparently they broke a door in during their frantic searching.

North Heat, who.. was injured, one of his pearly white horns shattered because of Thorn- came to visit.

He’d been in a meeting- and Thorn only learned that it was about them though North. Apparently they were too dangerous to be left alone. But also too dangerous to be kicked out.

Ouřa Thorn wasn’t sure what was worst.

The cardboard started to strain under the lizard's grip, as they felt spines start to penetrate their neck.

Suddenly the door swung open, startling the Lizard out of there spiral.

They were expecting Sunny, Sparky, North, maybe even Zelda- but before them was a short dark navy wolf, who snapped his eyes up to Thorns in a squinting glare.

“Who are you?” He said shortly, crossing his arms. His eyes flickered down to the box in Thorns arms, before looking back up at them with a sharper look.

“Thorn- Ouřa Thorn, um- I thought that North briefed that I’d be moving in today?” Ouřa Thorn strangled out, panicking, making their spines stick out more.

The blue Wolf arched a brow before turning and walking back inside. “Your rooms the one in the back with the sign.” he muttered, watching as Thorn awkwardly ducked to make sure their spines didn’t hit the door frame, before they quickly moved past the wolf with a frantic “Thanks-“

Practically scrambling to the back of the hallway, Thorn took note of the layout of the house.

The front door led to a in between with the kitchen on their left and a lounge to their right. In the hallway they passed a couple rooms, all bearing their own marks on who they belong to. Thorn paused briefly at a door with a wreath of flowers hooked in the middle.

Sunny.

Thorn touched one of the flowers, admiring it a little, before feeling the glare of the wolf staring at them silently and quickly moving further down the hallway.

Thorn gave a quizzical look to another door with tiny roots and leaves peeking out from under the door, with an abundance of stickers plastered wonkily to the door itself.

Right next to the plant-sticker door was an open door with a little sign hanging to the knob.

Thorn assumed this was for them, grabbing the sign. There were a couple words, and thankfully Ouřa Thorn could read one of them; Welcome.

Thorn peered into the room, holding their box close.

There was a significant difference in space and cleanliness to this room then their old one- Ouřa Thorn actually blinked a couple times before hesitantly walking in.

No way all of this was for them?

They placed their box of items on a desk, next to a longer note that Thorn didn’t bother to read. There was a wardrobe that smelt of something dusty and old wood. Ouřa Thorn stood there for a while, bumping their head against the wood. It smelt like home, even though ‘home’ itself was such a complicated thing in itself for Thorn.

Then there was the desk, that Thorn’s box sat on, and a bed.

A proper bed. Not two mattresses stacked on top of each other on the floor. A proper bed. Thorn sat on it, their claws gently dragging over the soft fabric.

It almost felt wrong- in an extremely overwhelming way. It was too soft. They sunk into it too much, it was almost too comfortable.

Stop being ungrateful.

Thorn inhaled, quickly standing before they worked themselves up into tears over something as stupid as a bed.

Poking their head back out of their new room, they noticed a room right across from theirs, and Ouřa Thorn’s heart sunked a little at the familiar dark blue door with a light blue lightening bolt in the middle, plastered with small stickers on it.

That’s the wolf’s door. It has to be.

Thorn took a deep breath, closing their door quietly and leaning their back against it.

They stared at nothing for a minute, before gently putting their muzzle into their claws and sliding down the door to curl up.

……

I don’t belong here.

[ca-8]

I really really loved your DogDay fic (like a lot), so I thought I'd request a DogDay x player reader fic about the nightmares both of them would more than likely have when this is all over and they've escaped Playtime Co, and how they'd try to be there for each other when they happen.

Black curtains smothered their view. (Y/n)'s body was light. Someone must have carried them from the sweet warm hug of their mattress and into the shadowing atmosphere. Fabric rippled and swayed gently just barely beneath their falling figure, separating inches before contact... And so, falling past the waving curtains that faded harshly into cracking rubble.. Falling past the growing cracks swirling into light pink, stretching tubes and blue fuzzy ropes... Falling into hell's fiery, drifting red smoke through long, thin fingers that cursed away flesh... Elliot's voice welcomed them once again.

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DogDay x Reader Rippling Deja Vu (Part 1)

(WARNING: The following contains scenes of graphic body horror and mutilation)

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Wet spider webs caught them, like a Venus fly trap breaking the fall of a frightened butterfly with a torn wing. A chill ran down their spine, causing them to stir in their sleep, and soon, (Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open. Dim flickering light beamed down them, watching them. Cold goo kissed the back of their neck. They shuddered and pulled themselves up, dragging behind lines of webs connecting them to their new bed. It tugged, urging (Y/n) to fall back into its embrace, until the lines finally broke. They collapsed on freezing tile. When (Y/n) opened their eyes, the first thing they saw were the tattered clothes they wore on the day they entered the gates of hell: a dirty tank top torn at the side and thin jeans caked in dust and dried blood. Their eyes widened. "No...No no no no no....!"

Rapidly swatting off the remaining clinging webs, (Y/n)’s bottom collapsed onto the tiled floor. Their quick and heavy breaths rushed into the dusty cold air, flailing around in tiny clouds before fusing with the hallway’s stretching darkness. After finally casting off the last piece of the web, their hands suddenly went still, trembling in place, then clenching into fists a few times as if they were holding a Grabpack’s trigger.

(Y/n) looked up. Blinking light illuminated parts of the stretching shadow for brief seconds, beckoning them to let them light their way. But they couldn’t move — they wouldn’t dare move. As soon as they’d jump to their feet, something meant to lie still, something first made for play and learning and innocence that then would become a shell for screams and blood and torn flesh, would come after them and pull and dig and prod and eat at each breathing morsel they offered. (Y/n) sat still, very, very, very, very still. 

Then they got up. Their trembling body begging to stay safe under the only working light began to get pulled by marionette strings. (Y/n) started to choke on their cry for help and fought with every atom within them to stop moving, but the blackened jaws had already consumed them. And through all that desperate effort, a pathetic whimper only left their lips. 

GO BACK

RUN

HIDE

HELP

THE HOUR OF JOY

One, then four, then ten, then innumerable warnings laced in trauma appeared under the blinking lights. Blue and red and yellow overlapped with one another, shouting over each other, screaming at a once naive, curious fool. (Y/n)’s body didn’t listen, it just had to see what that gorgeous cherry red light was growing in the distance.

They attempted at another cry for help, but only another quiet muffle sang along with the factory’s distant curling cogs. First wiggling their fingers, then shooting their hands up to their face, (Y/n) felt for a mouth, a hint of lips or drool or just anything, but nothing. Just a blank (s/c) canvas of skin. Their throat erupted in shouts and wails, they even tried pulling at the canvas, and still nothing — the fool had become a shrieking tomb. 

The walls stopped moving, and they looked down to see their legs glued to the floor. 

And the ground began to roar.

Ripples and rumbles threw (Y/n) off their feet and forced them to watch the rear of the hallway. Flickering lights hinted to the devastation’s core; a flash of a human skull protruding from rising, cracking tile, a glimpse of light showing onto its growing body that melted from bone to a curling wet tongue rounding into a pink and blue twirling body, and that blinking, twirling body grew larger as its organs and bones stuck out and into darkened pink, stretching arms, weaving through a monstrous ribcage, tying together blue and purple fur and paws with ravaging whetted claws, growing and growing and growing against the cracking floor and screaming walls, growing and growing and growing and growing and growing

until it stopped.

And the human skull twisted, slowly rotating on its spinal column. Curling all the way around, blood rained from inside the splitting bone, emitting an appalling crackling echo as bits of it snapped off onto the ground. One of them hit the fool in the forehead. Finally, it stopped once completing its orbit.

It stared at (Y/n), and (Y/n) couldn’t help but stare back at it. Naked teeth and unblinking empty eye sockets, sloshing pulsating guts and creaking legs. They wanted to run, to hide, anything to stay as far away as that thing as possible. Its mouth opened, and its jaw stretched down and down and down toward the floor, bits of bone snapping and muscle from beneath bulging from the holes and stretching and stretching and its teeth reached to the ground and dug underneath the tile. 

It stopped. It winced. It pushed forward, claws scraping against the tile as its mouth excavated gathering tile, making the walls and ceiling screech such a deafening bawl. Faster it crawled, right down the hall, right towards (Y/n).

Right as glowing dots of life awoken in those empty sockets, they regained control of their body again. They scrambled onto their feet and bolted down the hallway. 

“A……?”

The hallway seemed to curl in on itself, but that didn’t stop them. (Y/n) so desperately wanted to cover their ears from that godforsaken screech but they couldn’t risk it. They just had to make their legs push faster, no matter how much they ached or cramped or were being sucked into the earth-

“..An…l….”

They were slowing down. Something of a thousand pounds became attached to their ankles and drove them into the melting floor. They yelped and fell right onto burning slosh, howling in pain and immediately yanking themselves up. Pained gasps and whines heaved from their lips, and they looked back to see the boiling floor had engulfed their legs, spreading up to their calf. (Y/n) spotted sections of their skin closer to its mouths peeling back to reveal bubbling muscle, before it all were to be swallowed. 

“....Angel…”

They tried hauling themselves up, but grew unsteady and fell back on the burning slosh. (Y/n) let out an agonizing cry as skin began to peel off from their arms. Smoke rose from their body, as if the spirits of their faded bits were already accepting the inevitable end. They peered over their shoulder — the creature was standing over them.

“.....Angel…!”

It dug up their body. (Y/n) violently flailed against its gasp, and through their tears they saw muscle plunging from their arms and legs and more of that thing’s hands wrapping around their tiny, weak, insignificant body, twirling around their waist and making them feel their spine slowly snap.

Agony, sweet deserving agony, topping with the fool’s suffering melody

“(Y/N)!” 

And they were back in their bed’s warm embrace. 

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped wide open, letting out a fresh, tearful waterfall streaming down their flushed cheeks. The first thing they saw in darkened solace were a vast, open, empty mouth and eyes that were scrunched up in blazing worry. But this uncanny face was that of familiarity, of warmth, of real joy; yet they couldn’t stop the quickened breaths.

“Angel, it’s okay, look at me, everything’s okay,” DogDay said, although by the tone of his voice, he was starting to panic as well. 

With trembling, non-melting arms, they cautiously hauled themselves up, and their breathing began to slow. Putting his giant paws against their back and on the side of their face, DogDay gently shushed them as his thumb stroked their wet cheek. 

“That’s it, just focus on breathing, you’re doing so well, angel…” With that giant smile as bright as the sun, his guiding whispers lit up the room. Before they knew it, the alerts for death rang silent and (Y/n)’s heart became steady. DogDay sat down on their bed and placed them on his lap, and for a few minutes, he held them close to his fuzzy, vanilla-scented chest. 

Then, (Y/n) spoke up in a hoarse voice: “I’m sorry.”

DogDay stopped petting their head for a second. “Now what are you apologizing for, angel?” he uttered in bewilderment. Words bubbled up inside their throat but they couldn’t bear to speak. He looked down and continued to stroke their shaking head and back. “Another dream about the factory, I take it?”

(Y/n) tensed up and nodded. His grip on them became tighter, but not too tight. 

At first, he didn’t know what to say. Decades of being trapped with nothing but tiny savaging predators taking joy in tearing off his skin little by little, day after day, left him blinded in miserable need. In rare moments of peace, he always dreamt about an angel descending from above and down in the hellish depths that once housed happiness, and blessing those worth saving with freedom. But not once did he see him reaching that freedom; in fact, he still wonders to this day what he did to deserve being one of the only survivors after failing so many so dear to him. And he despised it. 

The DogDay he was conditioned to never think about himself so much. He should always know what to say, especially now. His beloved angel had suffered through so much just like he did, and to make matters worse, they were apologizing for it. If anything, he should be the one…

…”I’m sorry too.”

“What?” (Y/n) gazed up at him. Even in the darkness, the light in their beautiful eyes beamed such radiant sacred life. Life that he swore to protect since that day.

“I-I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to witness and endure so much, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you when you saved me, I.. I’m sorry that you took in so much pain, I-! I…” DogDay took in a breath — ‘don’t cry, this isn’t about you.’ — “I…I’m sorry, angel. You’ve been through so much, and for our sakes… for my sake.”

He embraced them back into his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to fight back stubborn tears. “You have every right to be like this — to cry, to lash out, to get so, so scared — after everything that’s happened, you’re allowed to be this vulnerable more than anyone else.” 

They were so quiet. ‘Did I say the right thing? I didn’t make them upset, did I?”

But he did. Something inside (Y/n) cracked at last. Their chest tightened and pulsated and wallowed up, and something crawled up their throat that made them gasp for air and for more of him. They quickly wrapped their arms around DogDay’s torso and let out a shuddering wail as tears flowed freely down their cheeks and onto his chest. 

Feeling his heart hammer against the wet spot they buried their face in, he froze in place. Then his smile drained every ounce of uncertainty, and he held his angel once again. 

“That’s right, angel, let it all out. You’re safe right now,” he softly muttered to them, letting a tear fall from his eye, “and I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

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AND that’s it for right now! As with the last request, there’s a shorter word limit for posts that directly respond to Asks, so I’ll be cutting it off right here and will be posting a Part 2 soon! Sorry this took me a bit to release; new college quarter is starting and I've had a little bit of writer's block, but I have overcome it!! Thank you so much to @paragon-of-obsessed for requesting this, and extra thankies for liking my last DogDay fic! This was so much fun to write, and I can't wait to dive into the next part!

Like what ya saw? Well you can commission your own private piece now!! Read more about that here! Thanks so much for reading, and have a great day!~ 💜💜💜

(Also my ao3 is the_real_catnap_98 if ya wanna follow me on there - same posts are (gonna be) on there + fanfics staring my OCs!! (...and a self-insert, lOOK lIFe iS HArD-/lh)

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 6!!!!!!

After the turtles and Splinter, here we have the girl Ever. She's pretty spunky, I had fun analyzing her for writing.

April O'Neil Character Notes

Language Habits:

Uses bae/aave, something she could have passed on down to Raph and Mikey as they also use bae/aave

Most notably uses "mm-kay" in place of "okay"

Uses a lot of filler language, interjections, or onomatopoeia. Think "mhm", "uh huh, uh huh!", "oh yeah!"

"Ah nuts" is her go-to disappointed phrase

Grits and or strains her teeth when she's frustrated

Uses her own name (the full "April O'Neil!!!!") as a battle cry, or brings her name as a motivator i.e. "the one and only April O'Neil will solve this case!"

The more worked up she the louder she tends to be, this extends to stronger emotions such as passion or panic

Over text uses emoticons

Refers to splinter as "splints"

Refers to the turtles as "the fam"

Refers to villains/antagonists through insults rather than their names

Personality:

Adrenaline junkie, as she's often the first to jump into a fight. She also laughs in the face of danger, and was seen maniacally laughing and smiling the entirety of the gumbus episode

Jack of all trades. April has a lot of skills she's picked up from various jobs or personal adventures she's seeked out (like canoeing through the sewers in a hazmat suit and earning a crane license)

Wild and blunt. April is Loud, and rarely ever afraid to share her opinion. This can either make people draw back from her bluntness or be drawn in by her excitableness

Self-conscious. Despite her strong sense of self-esteem, April is still often motivated to impress the popular kids at school or at least fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as the weird kid, or associated with the weird kids

Persistent. April is always quick on her feet to hit back whatever comes at her. She has a good set of problem-solving skills that she's gained from all the skills she's picked up

Loyal. She's always willing to back up the turtles, and goes out of her way to keep Splinter happy with her company. Once she finds a friend it's hard to pry her away

Unlucky. Mostly in absurd or mundane ways. She has that whole curse with her birthday, but things don't often tend to go right for April O'Neil, which contributes to the disasters that cause her to get fired all the time

Miscellaneous:

Code-named "yellow submarine" by raph

Tends to have information on wifi passwords, secret exists, and access to keys from all the jobs she's been hired and fired from

Has a preference for blunt objects as weapons (most commonly bats, clubs, pipes)

Uses the environment in a fight in general

She's been part of the "warren stone fanclub" since 2010, and keeps all her ids in her wallet

Likes unicorns and cats (as seen through her brief texts with sunita and her pajamas)

Loves laser tag

Can beat Donnie at video games (if he didn't use cheat codes)

"sherlock_corn" is her handle online

Lives in an apartment/flat with her mom (showed onscreen briefly), that has its own bathroom

Has a subtly mentioned interest in fantasy, as noted by Donnie she tends to download fantasy rpgs and freaks out over cosplay wizards

Just an end note to all of you who aren't black, some offensive tropes I would stray from is making April the angry black girl. This is one of the most common stereotypes of black women in media. I wouldn't mistake April's passion or loudness for aggression. It would be a disservice to dilute her lively character into familiar but ultimately harmful tropes in media.

I am in no way saying you cannot portray April as angry, this is a powerful emotion and it should be explored with black characters, but I am saying that should not be the base of her character. Because well that's not even April's base. She's centered around fun and thrill-seeking.

Wikipedia (yes I know, But they have proven to be more dependable these past years) has a good article on the angry black woman stereotype, so that would a good place to start research on what to Avoid. In my splinter post I also provided some links on doing research on writing poc.

---

Anyway!!! We've ended our analysis trip of the main cast in s1. Next I'm thinking of picking apart our antagonists :]. Gonna take a break to work on my own fic, but stay tuned if you found any of my other posts helpful! It's been a fun ride with you all <3

[critter-genfic-events]

Character Studies

This week, we have ten character studies recs - deep dives into main characters and side characters alike. Check them out beneath the cut, and let the authors know if you like them!

the beauty and the mess by batyatoon (2887,Not Rated) Warnings: None Pairings:

A long day at Whitestone Castle, waiting for Scanlan to wake up or for his friends to come back.

Reccer says: A great look at Kaylie in episodes 84 and 85, brutal and truthful and excellent in all the ways that hurt. (one of the tags is "everything's funny until it isn't" and it and this story live in my head rent-free.)

let's pick the truth we believe in by burningdarkfire (28108,Teen) Warnings: Implied/Referenced Abuse Pairings: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Astrid Beck & Eadwulf Grieve & Caleb Widogast

Astrid kills Trent while the Nein are in Aeor. Caleb returns to Rexxentrum to make some peace with his past and make some sense of his future.

Reccer says: Very emotionally complex and beautiful writing

that i live (and you are gone) by DesertLily (2183,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Keyleth/Vax’ildan, Keyleth & Vox Machina, Keyleth & Essek Thelyss

Keyleth’s perspective on the deaths of each member of Vox Machina as she outlives them all.

Reccer says: I liked it

afterimage by saturdaysky (2858,Teen) Warnings: Pairings: Deirta Thelyss & Essek Thelyss

The Umavi receives an unexpected petitioner seeking solace from grief. As ever, Deirta provides clarity. As ever, Essek chafes at the impossible.

Reccer says: It shows both Essek and his mother as extremely complicated characters, and is a fun dive into what living several lifetimes might do to a person

A single lonesome toll by dadrielle (snappilier) (3715,Teen) Warnings: very vague reference to suicidal ideation (in line with imogen's reference to it in canon) Pairings:

Character study of Bells Hells centered around their relationships with loneliness and how coming together changes that

Reccer says: I liked it

Eadwulf Grieve Is Dead! by tangereen (1112,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: listed gen first, but also Eadwulf Grieve/Essek Thelyss, Clarabelle Clay & Eadwulf Grieve, Astrid Beck & Eadwulf Grieve

Eadwulf Grieve is legally declared dead and struggles to figure out what that means for his future and life.

Reccer says: Wulf gets to stick it to Ickythong.

The Cut of His Jib by Nenia458 (6544,Teen) Warnings: Choose not to Warn, PTSD Pairings: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia, Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III & Vax'ildan, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)

Along the treacherous route to a job, Vax (1) does not stab Percy for flirting with his sister (2) successfully stabs a pirate (3) learns something about their gunslinger that fundamentally changes his opinion of the man.

Reccer says: This is the perfect Percy, to me

With no Lapidary by Operafloozy (960,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Ashton's hair requires a little extra work to take care of - much like the genasi himself

Reccer says: It takes a simple fact about Ashton - that their hair is a rock, and then thinks through what that might mean for them throughout their life.

Tenderness to You is Only Talk About a Bruise by thetickingclock (1439,Teen) Warnings: body dysphoria Pairings: Kingsley Tealeaf & The Mighty Nein

Mollymauk had woken up empty, but Kingsley is full to the bursting. It is so easy to be alive. It is hard, sometimes, to understand how much they love him. It is harder still, to let them.

Reccer says: The language is amazing, and the view of an Kingsley's extremely early days - learning who he might be among the nein is extremely evocative

Caesura by kinosternon (1486,Mature) Warnings: anxiety, alcohol/drug mention, canon-typical violence Pairings:

Scanlan dreams that one of Vox Machina has died.

Reccer says: The fic was written around episode 73 of the Vox Machina campaign and perfectly encapsulates Scanlan's state of mind in those late Chroma Conclave episodes. You can feel the break coming. Insightful and heartbreaking.

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

We'll be starting off the next year with Vax! Maybe something celebrating his de-orbing?

Then, it'll be Reunions, Nott/Veth and Sendings!

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!