#it's rather descriptive but hopefully it's not too upsetting

[the-painted-siren]

Glass Houses

Chapter 2 of Serpents and Shadows <<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

Summary: Lloyd wakes up, safe within the walls of the monastery and his family’s embrace. Or so it seems.

Funny thing about this chapter. It got so long that I had to split it in two. Which, along with the fact that I added three more chapters to the outline, means more content for everyone. Isn’t that great?

Warnings in the tags, be sure to read them if you think something might upset you. This fic’s rating is T.

When Lloyd wakes, it’s to the scent of cool mountain air. Sunlight, warm and gentle, pools across his body in an encompassing wave. A breath works through his lungs, rising and falling with his chest. Slowly, the bear beginnings of a smile pull at his lips as all the sounds of the monastery hum around him, full of life.

‘Alive, alive, alive,’ he chants to himself. 

By some sheer miracle, he and his teammates made it through the Oni's invasion completely intact. Even when they'd been on their last fraying threads of hope, even when they'd thought they'd lost it all—even when Cole had fallen—they scraped by and made it out. And that realization floods through Lloyd hard and fast, first welling up in his throat, then releasing in a broken sob.

"Thank goodness,” He whispers, his voice splintered and hoarse. "Thank goodness."

He doesn't know how long he lays there, throat thick with a deluge of relief, and eyes burning with unshed tears and heartache. It’s like he’s a kid again. Young and scared and unable to process the sea of emotion always frothing within, never understanding the need to let them flow through him but learning to all the same.

‘Breathe,’ a voice from a faded memory tells him. Its deep, warm tone rings as clear as a spring day. ‘Breathe, Lloyd.’

In 2, 3, 4… Hold for seven seconds… Out for eight.

‘Breathe.’

1… 2… 3… 4…

‘Feel the air moving through you. Through your airways and through your lungs.’

Hold for seven seconds… Out for eight.

‘This will pass. Breathe, son.’

“In and out,” Lloyd murmurs. A thick ache blooms in his head as he grinds the heels of his palms against his eyes. “This will pass. You’re alive.” 

Once the trembles in his body have stilled and his heart has calmed, Lloyd fully lets the warbling birdsong and his teammates’ rowdy chatter pull him into the land of the living. With a groan, he pushes himself upward, and finds himself doing a double take.

How he didn’t see or hear the telltale shoji sliding open he doesn't know. But there Nya stands, eyes wide and steam curling around her from the piping hot cup of tea in her hands. 

“You’re awake,” she breathes out. 

She doesn’t hesitate. Her long, confident strides carry her toward him, weaving around the threshes of house plants that Lloyd’s crammed into every nook and cranny of his room. No movement of hers is wasted, even as one of the bigger, leafier ferns tries to smack her in the face. With a few swift motions, she sets the cup down on his dresser and plops down onto his mattress. Immediately, she pulls him into a hug.

Lloyd stiffens at the sudden contact. Panic blitzes through him before gradually making way for comfort and warmth and the peace of mind to fall into her embrace. He goes slack against her frame, his body finally resting for the first time in over a month. In spite of it all, after so much turmoil, he can relax. He can feel safe again. 

He supposes that’s always how Nya is. How she’s always made him feel. 

She’s strong and sturdy, a calm harbor in a raging storm. A lighthouse shining in the distance, guiding the way home. A grounding presence during the long and lonely nights spent in the resistance. She’s his sister and one of the most important people in his life and she’s… she’s crying, Lloyd realizes. 

It’s not the audible sort of crying, of course. Nya has never been an obvious crier. No one in his family is—blood-related or not. Either due to training or other unspoken reasons. And that… they’re confronting that later, Lloyd decides. Or at least, he might. After he does a headcount. But for now… 

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, bringing his arms up around her. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

“I know.” Nya’s voice wobbles as she speaks. But when she pulls back to look at Lloyd, her expression seems at ease. “But you need to stop having so many close calls. No more getting crushed by buildings.” 

Lloyd returns her relief in earnest— “No promises- ack!” —and promptly earns himself a punch to the arm for his wit. 

“I mean it,” Nya says, eyes narrowing. “I’m too young to be getting grey hairs.”

And with that, she flops backward and all but crushes Lloyd’s legs underneath her weight. 

From where he’s still rubbing his assaulted arm, Lloyd shoots her a look of the utmost displeasure, one eyebrow raised. Grey hairs will be the least of her worries once he’s up and about. “Hey, Wojira-incarnate. Do you mind?” 

“Nope,” Nya remarks. She snaps her fingers and points at the still-steaming cup of tea nearby. “Do you mind? Drink your tea. It’ll help.” 

Lloyd rolls his eyes so far back he gets a headache. Nevertheless, he plucks the cup off the dresser and sips carefully at the rim. Right away, its warmth flows through him, along with a contented purr starting in his throat. Chamomile, with hints of vanilla and honey. Exactly the way he likes it. Fine, he’ll forgive her this time.

It almost surprises him how easily they’re able to slide into this atmosphere of peace. But between the small comforts of home—of hot tea and friendly banter, of the happy look on Nya’s face as she basks in the sun, Lloyd can’t complain. War and vengeance have disappeared over the horizon. Silence no longer means the difference between life and death. “For now,” takes a masterful stroke with a mental broom and leaves everything in a fulfilled solace, far from anyone’s mind. 

“How long have I been out?” Lloyd asks at length. There are only dregs of tea left in his cup when he sets it on his dresser. 

Nya’s eyes slide open. She seems thoughtful, with her eyebrows creased, lips drawn into that deep-thinking frown that only she and her brother are known for. “A couple of days. You’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness since then.” 

Lloyd nods along. That’s… a lot better than he expected, considering everyone in his family has spent upwards of a week in the hospital before, save for Zane. The way the battle against the Oni had been waging—the hair-width scrapes from death, hope devoured and tensions running high—it could have been much worse. It could have ended in blood and tears and total annihilation.

But it didn’t. 

This time, everybody lived. And it’s with a sure amount of satisfaction that Lloyd credits his team—his family, for this victory. The other ninja, always two steps behind him, powers and weapons at the ready. Pixal, coming in clutch with the entire Ninjago national arsenal packed into one mech. His uncle and mother, who hurried to evacuate as many people from the city and surrounding villages as they could. 

And Lord Garmadon... 

Lloyd frowns. 

Garmadon is due a lot of the merit of their accomplishments. 

Loathe as Lloyd is to admit, it’s mainly because of Garmadon that they managed to grasp at the straws of survival. Garmadon, who Lloyd mulls over with no small amount of broken trust and righteous anger, came through for their little rag-tag group with the Armor of the Golden Master and the Tornado of Creation. He had saved them all. 

There’s a sort of clarity in the realization, one that comes with a sudden understanding of why the ninja hated hearing about his father defeating the Great Devourer all those years ago. 

Speaking of…

“Where is he?” Lloyd asks in a hollow tone. “My… father…” 

The word tastes like burnt cinders and coarse sand. 

Nya’s eyes spear into him a little too intensely. Even sprawled back over Lloyd’s legs—which are starting to go numb now if he’s perfectly honest—she manages to convey herself. There’s a dark swirl there, something like concern or worry. Then the space between her eyebrow’s wrinkles and oh, Lloyd knows all too well what that means. By instinct alone, he braces himself for the inevitable tsunami about to wreck his mental state all over again, as if he hasn’t had enough of that the past couple of months. 

With a sigh of the utmost pity, Nya pulls herself up. 

“He’s here in the monastery,” she tells him. Zero enthusiasm available. Zero. “He never left.”

A bolt of shock shoots through Lloyd.

 “What…” comes in a stunned whisper. “He’s… he’s here?”

Garmadon had stayed? 

“Ye-aaah… It’s hard to explain.” Nya plants her feet on the ground and offers Lloyd a reassuring smile as if it could chase the dark clouds in his mind away. “If you don’t want to talk to him, that’s fine. None of us will make you. But it won’t do you any good to make decisions like this. We should go join the guys, get you something to eat.” 

Decisively shoving down his complicated thoughts on all that, Lloyd opens his mouth to retort. “I’m not hungry.” 

He only lies there long enough to regret it, what with his stomach disagreeing rather loudly. Nya giggles in response and Lloyd knows it has to be because of the pink flushing up his cheeks. 

“Sure, bud,” she says, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Oh, she’ll pay for that later. “But Zane made pancakes and I don’t know about you, but I really like Zane’s pancakes.”

“With chocolate chips and peanut butter?” Lloyd asks, nearly drooling at the prospect. 

Nya's lips curl up in disgust, even as she reaches out to help Lloyd to his feet. “Heathen. But yes, that’s always applicable.” 

All the better, Lloyd thinks. Because truth be told, he misses his family and he figures that any excuse to see them is all worthwhile, seeing as he’s going to need a metric ton of support from them in order to deal with his father. 

It’s an unspoken thing as they travel to the kitchen, that Lloyd leans on Nya for support, that she lets him do so without trouble. That trust is silent but understood and expressed only through the light shove Lloyd gives her shoulder and the much harder one she returns that almost knocks him off his feet. It’s touched upon only by muted, muffled snickers that carry them toward gleeful shouts and… clanging metal? 

“Ha! Take that!” 

“Oh, you are so in for it now!” 

Lloyd has his answers soon enough. As he and Nya enter the kitchen, they’re greeted with the morning light-filled sight of their family all comfortably squished together into the same space. Kai, like always, is the first to notice him. He gives them both a blinding grin, mid-clash with the Sword of Fire holding back the Nunchucks of Lightning.

“Hey, there you are!” 

With an almost whip-like quickness, he feints back with the Sword of Fire and whirls in the opposite direction just to kick Jay to the ground. He strolls over to them with all the casualness in the world, almost instinctively sheathing the blade to his back as he ignores Jay’s wails of despair. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he continues once he’s drawn Lloyd into a close embrace. Kai radiates heat like a furnace, toasty and comforting and happily so. Lloyd can’t help the wave of quiet joy that rumbles in his throat and sinks down to his chest. And he doesn’t mind the muted chuckling that resounds back from Kai. 

Realizing no one has acknowledged his display of melodrama, Jay hastily pops up and layers himself on top for his share of cuddles too. 

Before long, the rest of Lloyd’s family gathers around to exchange words of assurance and affection with him. Cole, of course, wastes no time in sweeping Lloyd up into a bear hug. It doesn’t take long for his mother to do the same.

“No lasting injuries?” Misako asks after she’s got ahold of him. 

“No lasting injuries,” Lloyd confirms. “Surprisingly.” 

“Thankfully,” Misako amends. She frowns briefly, a miserable look if one’s ever seen it, then opens her mouth as if to tell him something. Her voice escapes her and even though it does, Lloyd can guess what she wants to say. He doesn’t spy his father anywhere near here, but he’s bound to be an important topic of conversation. Sooner rather than later.

“I believe this is cause for a celebration,” Zane interrupts. He lowers a stack of pancakes down to Lloyd’s eye level, leaving the thought of Garmadon to dissipate from his mind. “The only major wound sustained was Cole’s concussion. Which he should be resting.”

The temperature in the room drops a few degrees as Zane offers Cole an icy glare. Cole, not missing a beat, simply folds his arms and matches him eye for eye. 

“It’s a minor concussion,” Cole replies.  

“A concussion nonetheless.”

Lloyd rolls his eyes so far back that sparks shoot across his skull. For his part, he’s just glad that the spotlight has swerved over to someone else. Quickly, he slips out from the team’s little cluster dedicated to harassing Cole and finds a seat at the kotatsu. Seconds later, Kai and Nya sneak over. As silent as the touch of a feather, they take up squishing Lloyd between the two of them, each nursing a cup of bitter coffee while they watch tv—which they’ve termed Jay’s beat-up, old laptop for the time being.

There is, for a brief moment’s time, a collision between Lloyd’s shoulder and the hilt on Kai’s sheath that kindles a bunch of questions, so much that Lloyd finds his eyes darting between the dull gleam of the Sword of Fire and the news report right in front of him. 

Eventually, Gayle Gossip’s sunny personality wins out. He can find answers later. 

“Continuing on, as you can see here, Borg Industries has taken a hard hit to its north side with what seems to be the remnants of foreign vegetation. While most information has eluded us, we can make one thing certain: the ninja have saved us again, vanquishing these Bringers of Doom. For now.”

“Aw, man, we’ve seen this already,” Jay gripes. He fumbles for the trackpad on the laptop, muttering something about unwanted reminders as he tries to play something more lighthearted and manages to start the opening theme of the Starfarer movie. 

If there are complaints about Jay’s choice, they fall on deaf ears. Lloyd hums along to the music much to the obvious disgust Kai radiates to his right and the gushing over Lieutenant Andi that Nya lets out to his left. 

‘This is nice,’ Lloyd thinks, as all his favorite sounds and people come together again. It’s a kind gesture from the world that some things are beyond doubt, such as the fact that everyone will survive. 

That everyone he loves will be okay in the end. 

They’ll always find their way, no matter how long it takes. 

The Starfarer end credits come faster than Lloyd would like but by that point, he’s gone through two servings of pancakes, a plate of fresh strawberries, and almost three cups of Longjing tea. He can already feel Master Wu’s stare of disapproval at the fact but the part of him that usually cares shrinks down to a speck of dust as he approaches the sink with his dishes. He chitters something to himself that matches the chirping birds and windchimes carried by the current of air flowing into the monastery.

One particularly noisy bird with blue and orange plumage makes itself known on the windowsill. Lloyd moves over to the little thing in one fluid motion, holding his hand out to offer it a perch. Though an animal lover at heart, Lloyd can never explain why they love him back. 

“It may be a gift of your heritage,” his father remarked once when this same species of bird visited their house. 

“I thought my heritage had four arms and a lot of attitude.” 

“Now you listen here, you little-”

Lloyd hears the laughter he shared with his father so long ago. It’s a soft sound, accompanied by compassion and fatherly love in the form of hair ruffles and side hugs. To some extent, Lloyd can still see the outline of his father’s face and waves of hair that were so much like Lloyd’s own. As the bird flies off, he pulls back into the kitchen to continue washing dishes when a flash of grey and black shifts outside the window. 

A shot of ‘hold on’ races through Lloyd’s muscles and effectively freezes him in place. Soapy dish still in hand, he steps back over the window and peers outside. 

Adjacent to the window, standing on the unshaded veranda, the angles of a familiar figure blur then come into focus. Grey-white tresses of hair, hunched shoulders clad in the usual dark colors, and a jacket Lloyd hasn’t seen in years caught in a tan—golden tan—grip. All things from a time long past. 

Lloyd feels something ugly and fierce swell up from within, rolling like thunder and churning like the sea during a storm. 

The sound of a plate shattering rings out from far away. 

Lloyd stumbles back, nearly tripping over his own feet. A whole myriad of emotions rains into his bloodstream. Fury, hot and burning. Sorrow, cold and encroaching. Joy, fleet and flickering. 

‘That’s… it was…’

A strangled breath tears out of Lloyd’s throat before his hands can go up to muffle it. A sob hitches in his chest, scrapes around in his lungs like sand, rises up to cloud his vision. Before he can process, the walls start to rock and wheel about. The inside of his mouth tastes like copper. An instinctive, scorching hum begins in the cavity of his heart and spreads out to his shoulders and hands and the tips of his fingers. His powers claw at his skin, howling to be let out. Screaming. Protective.

Somehow, so quickly, a rush of red grabs him by the shoulders. 

“Lloyd! Lloyd, what’s happening?!”  Kai sounds distant when he shouts. “Talk to me!”

“Oh, sh-” Nya’s curse breaks off. “I forgot to tell him.” 

Kai’s expression contorts and a garbled mess of words spills out of him. “Nya!” 

Lloyd can hear birds chirping. He can hear the singing forest and the roaring waterfall and the foaming of the waterwheel as it creaks outside the old Monastery of Peace, lulling him to sleep on an otherwise still night. He can see the gardens and the river path he used to tread so diligently, side by side with his father. Those were memories that the Sons of Garmadon couldn’t take from him. 

“Lloyd!” 

“No!” Kai’s octave-higher screech pierces through. “You get out of here!” 

“Kai! That’s not helping.” 

“He’s not helping.” What must be Kai’s hand rubs circles into his back, soothing and grounding. “Hey, buddy. Have you come back to me? Do four, seven, eight. Breathe in and out, okay? Four, seven, eight.”

Vital life force. Four, seven, eight. Lloyd can do that. He had just been doing that this morning, right?

‘Alive, alive, alive.’ 

In two, three, four… Hold for seven seconds… Out for eight.

“Breathe, Green Machine. It’s gonna be okay.” 

That’s right. This will pass. Everything will be okay. Lloyd will be okay. 

Everything sharpens around Lloyd with a forceful breath and comes crashing down onto the hallway floor. His mind, though numb with the constraint of fading panic, latches onto the sensations around him. He sees the scars on his hands, the ring on Nya’s finger, the gloves on Kai’s palms. He can feel the stroke of Nya’s comb as it brushes through his hair. He can hear Kai’s dampened murmuring. He can detect the scent of ash Kai always seems to have. 

“Hey, you doing alright?” 

When Lloyd looks up, Kai’s brow is furrowed with worry. With his tongue tied in his mouth, Lloyd can only offer a nod. There’s a huff from Kai that almost, almost escapes Lloyd’s attention. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell him,” Kai says, his gaze going somewhere behind Lloyd. It’s with stilted recognition that he can feel Nya wind up for a comeback and the urgency to settle it summons the rest of Lloyd’s senses back from his stupor. 

“She did tell me,” Lloyd says, laying his head down on Kai’s shoulder and effectively enacting Lloyd’s Law—no being on the planet shall move from their position if the Son of Garmadon has claimed them as a resting place. “She told me that my father was here. I just…” 

“I just forgot to mention that he was… back to normal,” Nya finishes. She sinks down onto the floor next to Lloyd. 

Understanding opens out across Kai’s face. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” Nya echoes back. “Sorry, Lloyd. I should have told you. I guess I was already so stressed out, I… didn’t think to bring it up.” 

“It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t say anything. It happens.” 

“Still. My stress doesn’t outweigh the fact that I should have told you.” 

Lloyd shrugs, hoping to communicate that he doesn’t want to continue. He doesn’t blame Nya. She didn’t mean to forget. She apologized. It happens. Thankfully, she seems to get it and drops the subject along with the weight originally sitting on his shoulders. He blows out a wisp of exhaustion from where he rests against Kai’s shoulder. 

Though there’s no one to see it, Kai’s absent stare bores into the closed kitchen shoji. Lloyd feels Kai’s shoulders shift beneath him before he speaks. 

“Well, so much for it being a good day.” 

Lloyd glowers at the same spot, now irritated with the statement. Sure, he knows Kai can be pessimistic, untrusting even of the most innocuous things. But it’s not like Lloyd needs more negativity right now. Not after what just happened. Extra thankfully, Nya seems to get that too. Because she reaches across the way and punches Kai in the stomach.

[cocteaucherry]

trials and tribulations .3

summary- falling in love with your sworn enemy was not something you planned.

cws- p&p au/ bridgerton au, inaccurate use of regency language, 18+, misogyny, sexual tension, future smut in later chapters, slow slow burn, LENGTHY descriptions, ooc Suguru, suguru x f!reader, talks of f!masturbation , not proofread

a/n- awkward silence when I up and left for 22 days with no explanation, I’ll touch more on that in a later post but for now enjoy!

taglist @mandysfanfics, @ti-mame, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer

The rain belted on the glass as you stood on the other side watching as the world washed away.

You felt as if you needed a cold bath, something to wash the prints of Suguru Geto’s touch off your clothes, your hands graced over the areas where his touch lingered.

Why did you feel deprived of his touch? Why did you need his touch?

“Miss l/n I’m sorry to interrupt-“

He was caught off guard by your small yelp, you had to be more attentive in this house

“Sorry Ijichi! I get lost in thought a lot.” You bowed in apology before he also returned one.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more gentle with my approach.” He cleared his throat with a small smile, “It’s getting rather late and the rain hasn’t stopped.. we would offer you a carriage home but the roads have been washed out.”

“I guess I’ll wait for the rain.. or I’ll try to walk.” You shrugged contemplating your options, you really didn’t want to walk especially in this weather.

“Actually, Mr. Gojo has offered you to stay in a spare room for the evening.. we wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

You smiled before letting out a small laugh, “I’m very grateful.. but I don’t want my mother and father to worry.”

“We assure you that your parents won’t be worried, I’m sure they’d be more upset with us for letting you walk home in this.”

Your eyebrow rose as you crossed your arms, “Forgive me for asking, I know he’s ill at the moment but will I ever get to see him during this visit?” The request came out rather timidly to your dismay but it made Ijichi sweat nonetheless.

“Well-uhm- you see Mr. Gojo wouldn’t want you to get sick as well.” Ijichi was definitely not great under pressure, you noted.

You uncrossed your arms nodding your head, “alright then, I will happily stay in a room until the rain stops.”

“Then you may follow me.”

Your head was spinning with questions, why would Ijichi possibly lie abt Gojo? Why would Gojo invite you knowing he was ill? Your heart ached in your chest, Geto's actions being the one to cause it.

Your stomach dropped and your blood ran cold, if the roads were washed out that means Geto couldn’t get back as well? Was he also going to stay?

You shook your head pushing the thoughts away. Hopefully you’d only encounter him one more time tonight.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“Suguruuu~ are you listening?”

Suguru was snapped out of thought, he stood before Gojo’s bed, the white haired man staring at him with a sick grin. “Yes… I am.” He mumbled, pushing strands of rain soaked hair out of his face.

“Y’know, for a man who’s supposedly sick you seem rather energetic .”

Satoru smirked, leaning his head back, “I’m just plagued and riddled with sickness Sugu, and it seems you are too..” he pointed a finger wagging it teasingly.

The raven haired male stared blankly at him, crossing his arms, “I’m perfectly fine Satoru, please get some rest or die of pneumonia.” He turned on his heel, preparing to exit, “I’m going home-“

“Yeeesh about thattt- I’m afraid you’re not going home anytime soon, roads washed out.”

Geto froze a vein appearing above his eyebrow, “Am I supposed to stay here for the night?”

“With her yes, maybe if you’re lucky she’ll give you a kind ‘goodnight’” Satoru hummed, staring out the window to see the tumultuous rain belt down.

“Not planning on it, Satoru,” Suguru mumbled, stepping out of the room.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon.

You found yourself wandering the halls, the occasional strike of lightning helping to guide your way.

You admired the classic oil paintings that adorned the ornate halls smiling to yourself when you found a portrait of a familiar face.

hair as pure as snow with a slightly rounder face and those blue eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.

Although just like usual he was never alone, always accompanied by what seemed to be his shadow.

Dark hair that was shorter with those intense amber eyes.

“Thought you went home miss l/n”

this man truly was a shadow.

You turned to the voice of Suguru Geto, but he looked more undone. Hair slightly wet as it fell past his back some strands stuck to his forehead.

“How come you’re always near or behind him?” You ignored his question pointing your head to the portrait, footsteps echoed as he stood next to you. “How come you never answered my question?”

“Why would I answer you? Why should I?” You spun to face him as he avoided eye contact with you, “You never give me a reason to answer kindly.” You scoffed as you walked impossibly closer to him, Geto’s heart skipped a few beats as he finally made eye contact with your gaze.

He cleared his throat trying to regain his stance (control), “Satoru and I have been together for…awhile, while we both are wealthy, his family is significantly stronger.”

“So that makes you his equal, even possibly a scapegoat.” You stepped back, your eyes quickly shifting to his hand that twitched at your movement.

A grin appeared on his face, “Quite the opposite, I help save his ass on multiple occasions. He’s not the best at keeping his head straight.. or keeping his pants on.”

You choked on your saliva at the sudden mention which caused him to chuckle from his throat, “What? I know a forward woman as yourself isn’t taboo to the mention of sex? Satoru excels at that.”

You felt a blush creep under your skin, “What makes you think that?”

“The way your face visibly became uncomfortable told me that,” his eyes drifted quickly up and down your frame, “I can tell when a woman is.. how do I say this? Frustrated?”

“Frustrated?!-“ you yelled out but quickly covered your mouth to whisper it, “I’m frustrated because you- you’re!-“ you stuttered angrily, scolding yourself for not having a better comeback.

“Maybe you should try exploring your own body first before going after someone like Satoru, just a suggestion,” Geto said, turning on his foot to walk down the darkened hallway.

You had almost forgotten it was raining during the conversation, the soft patter of rain filling your ear drums as you try to reconcile what just occurred.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

You weren’t sexually frustrated, You weren’t sexually frustrated,

You repeated in your head as you buried yourself into the pillows of the way too extravagant bed, “ridiculous, he doesn’t know anything..” you mumbled clasping your hands close to your chest.

You tried to force yourself to drift off to sleep but your head began to pound and your body became warm, the handprints he left on your waist, they still left an excruciatingly burning linger. The way his hair framed his face annoyed you.

His avoidant stare annoyed you. His soft voice annoyed you, his strong hands annoyed you. His sly smirk, His perfect teeth, the way his fingers graced your breasts.

His last words echoed in your head broken by your lust “Explore, body”

You were taught otherwise in your life, should you?

You felt your hands drift towards your panties playing with the hem, would you really touch yourself out of Suguru Geto’s words?

You let out a frustrated groan, you couldn’t let him win.

[charonarp]

Here's a little sneak peak on what to expect on the page talking about the Tu'la region!

(Aka, basically most of the information out of what's likely going to be 2-paged section since there's not a lotta info on Tu'la lol)

Totally not sharing this because I made art I'm proud off .>. (Edit: I just realized there's some information I forgot to put into this, so the final version will have a few more words :p It's just the characteristics on cursed Meif'was - aka people who were cursed into being Meif'was)

I've said it before (somewhere), and I'll say it again. I want this pdf to be as beginner friendly as possible, whether it be for both new players and new DMs.

I won't be adding detailed stuff from specific sources, or be blatantly taking things from copyrighted material and directly placing them in here (I think the closest thing that might be iffy is stuff I've taken from Daggerheart that's intended to help players and DMs create custom societies/communities, but hopefully it's okay since I'm only taking the name and basic descriptions they give rather than the entire card). - This feature can also be applied to existing regions to flesh them out if you want to take things into your own hands and explore regions that have not been explored yet in MCD/DR.

Now, if you read it, I'm sure some people might be a bit upset that there's no homebrewed Meif'wa race made from scratch. Here's the thing...there's a lot or races in D&D 5e (2014), and there's even a "Lineage" rage from Tasha's, which essentially allows you to make your own race.

And to be honest...not much is known about the characteristics of Meif'was outside of them looking and occasionally acting like cats? Besides that, I couldn't really find anything that could help them stand out as their own race.

So, instead of making it a whole thing... I've instead put down a suggestion that, since the players are the creators of their characters, that they should be able to use any race (within reason) to define their character's appearance and function. This will also be applied to the Lu'pine/werewolf race, in some degree.

Personally, I'm someone who tends to view races, or "species" as they're now called since the 2024 version, as a guideline. Simply put, if I want my character to look a little strange or have a unique feature from the norm, I'll take a race that suits it best and change it up.

Take Tieflings for example. Tieflings are depicted to be devil/demon-like, but in most cases, even in D&D's Forgotten Realms, demons and devils can look like a lot of things, and there's even some anthropomorphic entities that are classified as demons/devils. What's stopping you from playing a fox-like character with an infernal heritage? Or someone who looks like a basic human but with infernal traits?

There's also the Owlin race, which is depicted to being an anthropomorphic owl that can be medium or small sized. I'm someone who likes to draw human faces, so what's stopping me from playing a human-looking guy with large bird-like wings?

I want this PDF to encourage creativity and out-of-the-box thinking. I've played with many players and GMs who are way too stiff with their creativity, mainly when it comes to character creation.

Sure, a human is meant to be generic, but what's stopping you from making them be more doll-like thematically? You're not changing the way they function, but you are changing the way they appear and behave. Systematically, this way of creativity is harmless.

There are subraces of all kinds, and all of them can't be covered entirely in official content. Another reason I'm not adding homebrew races or classes into this is not just because of balancing reasons, but because some DMs might not be open to homebrew, or some players might get nervous or uncomfortable with homebrew creations (like I am).

I do plan on making a page that'll be a kind of guide on how to "mix and match" certain things, though mainly in the terms of backgrounds. Did you know that, apparently, you can change your background feature to whatever feature you want if you're not happy with it? I DIDN'T UNTIL EARLIER THIS WEEK!

I'm also adding a few examples of homebrewed rules some games tend to have, since I'm sure some (or most) members of this community are not experienced in D&D 5e on a personal level. (Examples are bonus action healing potion, secret death saves, etc. I will be throwing in a personal rule I made for my games as an option.)

Anyways, enough of me rambling. Here's a closer shot of the Meif'wa guy I made! Was gonna make three to show range, but I got tired and I ended up liking him a lot -w- No name for him though... But I might just keep it that way for fun lol

Hydrate!

[simmeons]

twelfth story for @badthingshappenbingo's bingo :)

characters; Leonard McCoy, James T Kirk, Spock, Montgomery Scott, Pavel Chekov, and random unnamed crew

words; 2,426

warnings; Scotty goes apeshit as per usual, getting mauled by an animal sorta it's. Scotty doing the mauling, descriptions of injuries, we talking about blood man, they use the word "hell", stalking/hunting (animal like sorta bc. bc Scotty is feral sea monster right guys yea)

prompt; Twisted Ankle

FYI; this is a mix of the mirror!scones AU/designs by @dilfoez and my personal sea monster!Scotty AU!! :) and going off The Animated Series, the fellas in TOS do in fact have a holodeck- they simply call it the rec room- so don't get confused :3

“Okay you two, I'm trusting you'll be able to do this together without having to use the damn thing.” Leonard McCoy handed Pavel Chekov a small remote- rectangular in shape, and gray in color. It had a few buttons, most of which weren't important.

The younger man gave a nod in understanding, a confident smile on his face. The chief of engineering wasn't too thrilled.

Montgomery Scott’s foot tapped impatiently as he stood waiting besides Chekov, his somewhat trimmed claws clanking against the metal flooring of the Sick Bay. “Do I seriously hafta wear this stupid thing?” He asked, gesturing to the collar wrapped tightly around his neck- a deep black that went against his colorful green scales.

“If you do the training like needed, then hopefully your friend here won't have to give you a shock.” The doctor replied, his tone flat and unimpressed. Normally he'd have the pleasure of controlling Scotty’s training programs, but the captain needed him for a stupid meeting, so Chekov volunteered. He'd much rather be laughing at Scotty failing to do trivial things, but he couldn't disobey the captain.

“Don't worry Mr Scott,” Chekov turned to look up at the taller and larger beast beside him. “This could be fun!”

The sea monster huffed, but he remained silent. He liked Chekov- the little lad was spunky and always ready to try and help, and honestly he was maybe a bit too pure for this job. He could be an ass when it was needed, but you could see the regret on his face later. His guilty conscience would be the reason he leaves Starfleet.

“Behave and we won't have problems.” McCoy summarized it for them, handing Chekov a little slate of data, a nice deep blue. “This is the program for today. Just go to the rec room, slip it in, and collect anything you see our friend demonstrating.”

“Easy enough!” The Russian said back, still optimistic. “Let's go Mr Scott, it's better to get it done and over with.” He added, hoping the good mood would potentially rub off on the engineer. It didn't however- he simply grumbled when Chekov turned on his heel and started walking the two of them down to the rec room.

With Chekov and Scotty leaving, McCoy grumbled as he gathered what he assumed would be needed for the meeting and he did his own departure, dragging his feet to the meeting room.

---------------------------

“I promise I won't shock you.” The younger man said to the engineer as they reached the rec room, the doors whooshing open as they stepped in. “I see no reason to! I know you don't want to do this, so I'm not going to make you even more upset.”

“That's something doctor McCoy will seemingly never understand.” The sea monster grumbled when the doors closed behind them, watching as Chekov went to a nearby panel and inserted the thick blue data chip into a slot.

The rec room changed from a bland, white and gray area turned into one that resembled a forest of sorts- the two of them in a clearing. Tall, verdant trees rose up around them, their leaves rustling gently in a simulated breeze. The ground beneath Scotty’s feet was soft, covered with a layer of green moss and fallen leaves. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows that danced across the forest floor.

Chekov glanced around, taking in the sights and sounds of the fabricated forest. “I think they’ve done a great job with these simulations,” He remarked, his tone filled with some awe. “It’s almost like being on Earth.”

“Aye.” Scotty replied shortly, not too keen on chatting right now. He was proud of the rec room as an engineer- taking some pride out of knowing he frequently had to repair it a few times or add some tweaks, but he knew better than going on a tangent. Get this damn thing over with first then you can go off about engineering.

Chekov wasn't too sure what the simulation wanted from Scotty, but he knew McCoy had programmed them to always get harder the next day, so he figured the engineer knew exactly what to do. He stood towards the panel as the sea monster took a few steps more into the clearing, his fin-like ears twitching occasionally- listening. For what, though?

The ensign jumped in his skin with surprise when he watched some creature leap from the trees, pouncing on the chief engineer. Scotty handled it well, as he immediately shoved the simulated beast off, its form dissipating when it fell to the floor. Was this what McCoy was training Scotty for? How to fight?

It was made even more clear when another one lunged at Scotty, who swiftly moved out of the way just to whirl around and force it to the ground with a pounce of his own. Chekov felt like he was watching some Kaiju movie in real time, but downsized a considerable amount. Despite that, he made sure to watch and mentally note anything that might be interesting for the doctor.

---------------------------

"Alright, let's get this started," Kirk began, looking at the PADD in front of him. "We’ve received some intel that suggests we might encounter hostile forces in the next sector. Starfleet Command wants us to be prepared for any scenario."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain, do we have any specifics on the nature of the threat?"

"Unfortunately, no. It's all very vague," The captain replied, his frustration evident. "But they're adamant that we proceed with caution. Don't want us to lose more people than necessary with these folk.”

"So, we're basically going in blind, again. What else is new?" The unenthusiastic doctor replied, his arms crossed.

Kirk shot McCoy a look, but there was a hint of an agreement in it. "It's not the first time, Bones. And probably not the last.”

"It would be logical to run additional tactical drills to ensure readiness. We should also increase security protocols, particularly in engineering and around key systems.” The Vulcan broke the human’s discussion with his strategic suggestion. The blonde looked at his first officer with a nod.

"Agreed. I want everyone on high alert. No surprises.”

Speaking of surprises- McCoy was momentarily distracted by his communicator going off. They were mostly used for away missions but it was best to keep them on at all times, but he was a bit frustrated to be called during a meeting of all things. Kirk and Spock’s attention was grabbed as well.

“You can answer it.” Kirk excused McCoy, knowing for a fact McCoy would ask for it.

The doctor hummed with acknowledgement as he flipped open his communicator, opening his mouth to speak but was immediately cut off.

“Doctor!” The usually chipper Chekov barked out through the handheld device. “Something's wrong with Scotty! He's acting like a wild animal!”

“What?” McCoy physically recoiled at the information, his brows knitting together. “What do you mean, Chekov? Did you try to-”

“Yes, yes! I tried everything! He was acting aggressive after your program and-” There was a pause, the man catching his breath. “I'm being chased in the rec room! Please, I need h-”

The man went quiet again, only the sound of his heavy breathing and the rustling of foliage around him coming through. Kirk and Spock made eye contact before the captain nodded, and the first officer was getting up and leaving the room.

“Chekov, are you okay?” Kirk leaned over closer to McCoy’s communicator, speaking into it.

“I think so. For now.” The ensign whispered, his accent thicker with the softer volume. “I seem to have lost him.”

“Bones.” The blonde spoke to McCoy, tone soft yet firm. “Get down there and control your experiment.”

Obeying the order McCoy sprang from his chair and bolted out of the room, leaving his communicator behind- he knew where Chekov was, and Kirk was better situated for helping someone through an emergency. A non medical one, at least.

Leaving the room, McCoy took a sharp left and bolted to turbolift, grabbing the small protruding handle from the wall (something Kirk had made several phallic jokes about) as he descended down the lift.

When the doors opened he heard a loud scream- and he immediately feared the worst. Running as fast as he could, pushing past people, the doctor ran down the hall until he got closer to the rec room. His feet stopped in their tracks when he arrived, heart dropping.

The rec room’s door was open, but the doctor was more focused on the sight of the sea monster hunched over a body, crimson blood flowing underneath it. It was obvious- it was Chekov, and God he wasn't going to make it. McCoy forced himself to immediately come to terms with it, even as he watched his body occasionally jerk, weak pleas falling from his lips.

McCoy was frozen with fear as he watched Scotty turn around, looking at the doctor. His remaining eye’s pupil was slit like a wild animal, unfocused and primal. His claws were stained with blood, and his mouth was as well- some of it dripping down his chin. Guilt settled in like a thick coat of smog, and he felt horrible. He shouldn't have trusted Chekov with this- but he thought it would've been more productive this way, considering Scotty was actually quite close to the ensign. They liked drinking and Scotty had in shorter terms- tried taking the man under his wing.

“Scotty,” McCoy tried his best to keep his voice calm, but it was a struggle. “Get away from him.”

The engineer wasn't swayed. He snarled, scales flaring up around his body as his body tensed up around his prey. Damn it all, the doctor just needed to get to Chekov, maybe he could try and save him.

“Come on, Scotty. Listen to me.” McCoy urged, his voice softer now, laced with desperation. Scotty didn't budge however, he just hunkered closer to the ground, looking like an animal ready to pounce.

The two of them held their position, so still a pen could be dropped and they'd hear it. Chekov kept struggling, his arms torn to hell by scratches and harsh bites but he was a fighter. His legs weakly tried to kick Scotty off, but the sea monster was too occupied with staring McCoy down.

A loud blaring alarm went off, red lights flashing around in the hallway as the Enterprise’s robotic voice warned the crew about a lock down. “Crew, please go to any room with a door and remain there until the lockdown is over. This is not a drill.”

Just as the Enterprise was about to repeat the order, Scotty lashed out, growling as his hands and feet scraped against the floor, claws clashing with metal. McCoy’s adrenaline was built up enough that when he saw the slightest movement he was ready- and he bolted.

He ran backwards, away from the crime scene, abandoning the poor ensign now that he had a raging sea monster on his tail. He needed to trap him somehow- get him isolated so he was away from Chekov so he could help him. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Scotty was keen on slowing down now. McCoy could only run for so long before would get tired- so he needed to think fast.

Running through the layout of this floor, McCoy started to formulate a plan. Thankfully for him, running with claws was pretty hard against metal, so Scotty was significantly slower, but he was still quick due to his digitigrade legs that came with his new form.

After another few heavy breaths, McCoy had a plan.

On the next approaching turn there was a turbolift- if McCoy was lucky, Scotty could somehow slip into it. It was such a dumb idea, one that was likely to fail, but McCoy had nothing else.

His feet thudded against the floor as kept running to the turn before he forcibly slid against the floor like a baseball player, forcing his feet forward to try and throw Scotty off. Due to his age however, McCoy stumbled a lot more than what he'd like to admit, hurting his ankle in the process. He had no time to think when he was on the floor, rolling over onto his stomach and looking up as the sea monster came barreling closer to the turn, hitting it just as hard.

Having no purchase on the floor as his body couldn't stop the sideways force from the turn, Scotty's hands and feet slipped up as the large beast slammed into the turbolift like dead meat, the momentum from the turn being too much for him to handle against the slippery flooring.

The doctor scrambled up, watching as the turbolift doors hissed closed, encasing the raging sea monster- who was growling and snarling through the door, clawing at it as it hummed upward to the upper floor. McCoy could only hope everyone had gotten into a room fast enough, because then that means Scotty would be completely alone. He'd be easier to deal with.

His ankle hurt like crazy- no doubt twisted to all hell, but McCoy forced himself up. He groaned with pain, but pushed through it as he hobbled back to Chekov.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Heyy, it’s been a couple of days since I’ve posted, even longer since I’ve been consistent. I would say I’ve been busy but that would be a lie because I haven’t actually had less time than usual to post. Truth is some stuff’s gone down, partially on this very platform, and it’s made it very hard to post. If you don’t want to read a kind of venty angsty personal post the TL;DR is I’ll get back to posting semi-regularly once I’ve dealt with some stuff but I promise it has nothing to do with the people who interact with my blog. You’re the highlight of my day even if it’s “just” a like and I’m sorry for the recent dip in posts.

I don’t wanna go into detail because surprise! I don’t actually like going out of my way to create drama with people and one person involved has essentially harassed me on every platform we share. That’s why I haven’t spoken about this before, and I’m only saying this now because I realized I’ve forgotten to respond to several reblogs and I don’t want anyone to feel like I’m ignoring them or abandoning this blog or anything. Basically, I feel bad about leaving without explanation and also I kind of want to vent? So without getting too specific: A close friendship recently died a slow, torturous death over several months, slowly getting worse until the other person threw me in the trash like I meant nothing. Then he came back two weeks later and tried to guilt trip me for being upset at him for how he treated me.

In that two week period some stuff went down on Tumblr here and well… there’s no way to sugarcoat this, so I’ll be blunt: it’s made me terrified to post anything on here. Every time I want to post something I feel sick to my stomach with dread because what if it’ll happen again? Or, alternatively, what if I’m next? And it sucks because I’m not even 100% sure it was aimed at me, but it lines up a little too perfectly and maybe I’m paranoid and it’s all on me but maybe it’s not and if that’s the case… I’d rather be wrong, for once, but the problem is that there’s no way to know for certain. I’ve been stewing in this weird, complicated mishmash of emotions and confusion and I honestly have no idea how to deal with it. I thought time would help, as it usually does, but clearly this is a special case.

Before anyone says it, yes. I’m aware that this is a subtweet, which is not a cool or nice thing to do unless it’s a joke between friends. That’s another thing that made me not want to post this. I hate being mean to people who aren’t mean to me first, and as I said I have no solid proof from a trustworthy source without ulterior motives that this had anything to do with me (which is what I usually use as my standard for when to start hitting back) but I just can’t seem to let it go. Every time I have an AU I wanna share I get this creeping, uncomfortable, clawing feeling crawling underneath my skin and tightening in my chest and I hate it. I hate it so much I cannot even describe it properly.

It makes me wanna scrape my skin off with sandpaper and scrub myself clean from the inside out with an iron sponge. I wanna claw my heart out of my chest and shake it until it stops feeling like this and the only comfort here is that I’ve found some fancy new descriptions to use in my writing. Speaking of: I’ll post on AO3 again soon, hopefully today or tomorrow, but just like with my blog I’m so drained of energy and I feel so nauseous about posting I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it again, which sucks because I love posting on all these platforms! It shouldn’t feel like a chore but it does now and I don’t know if there’s anything that’ll ever make it fully go away. It’s become more manageable, hence why I’m posting this, so I’m clinging to the hope it’ll all ebb away at some point. Until then though my posting schedule is gonna be even more inconsistent than it usually is, so I’m very sorry about that. Hope you all have a wonderful day and I’m sorry about the venty post I’ve subjected you to 😅

[uriekukistan]

how do you … hhow do yiu start writjng. like how do you. opening paragraph…. how do you begin..

sksjdj sorry this took so long, i genuinely rewrote my answer 3-4 times 💀 took me a few hours to figure out how i wanted to answer this tbh bc usually i don't even know what im doing either

also im by no means a perfect writer, i’m still working to improve with every fic, so pls take this w a grain of salt, everyone writes their own way as well…hopefully this isnt too long or annoying or preachy or anything.

i always have an outline of my fic ready before i start writing, regardless of if it's super vague or highly detailed, i also try to think about what the character(s) want from the situation(s) and potential ways that could create conflict (not in an angsty way per se but in a plot moving way). knowing this is super helpful for deciding where to start because different types of openings are good for different stories.

ideas i use a lot!

-> character intro! this is my most commonly used way to start a new story. i like to make sure my MC is in the first sentence so the reader knows who the story is going to focus on. this does have a potential to go wrong, bc essentially, there's the good way and then there's my immortal 💀

when i say to use a character intro, i mean like their mindset/beliefs as they pertain to the plot, main conflict they're facing, or how they're feeling at that moment, rather than "basic info"

ex: megumi fushiguro is 15, has black hair and green eyes, and he's a jujutsu sorcerer and is in his first year at jujutsu tech. in his free time, he reads. he loves animals. he was abandoned by his parents at a young age, so he's wary of others <- boring, bland, sparks 0 interest

VS: Megumi was never a fan of love. Not in books, not in TV shows, not in movies, and certainly not in real life. He hadn’t so much as considered having romantic feelings for someone in fifteen years of living, and he wasn’t about to start now. Definitely not now. Not after what had happened. <- interesting, gives insight into how megumi thinks (and how strongly), sparks interest bc what happened??

hsiao doesn't want to date a coworker because she has a dangerous job, but has a crush on saiko. urie can't express his feelings because he's spent ages bottling them up, and now he needs to grieve someone he didn't realize he cared for until it's too late. establishing these things is really important, and should be done eventually either way.

i think this method works best for stories focusing on a conflict that's more internal because it sets up the characters psyche, but can still be used for external conflict effectively!

-> dialogue: another one that can be tricky, and gets a bad wrap sometimes, but it can very much be used well. it's good to use if the story is focusing on interpersonal conflict, especially if it involves a lot of arguing. usually, i throw the reader into a high tension, fast moving scene with dialogue, sometimes one with a confrontational start, sometimes in the middle of an already brewing interaction.

-> strong feelings: this works best with negative feelings, so i use it mostly for reeeeaaaallly angsty fics. physical pain, extreme sadness or guilt, grief, rage, or high stress work really well for this, because they're feelings that tend to consume everything else. you gotta be ready to dedicate a few paragraphs to really good descriptions that make readers feel. it's a bit intimidating to write and has the potential to overwhelm readers as well, so i tend to reserve it for fics that i intend to be really heavy and upsetting, no happy ending/comfort type fics

-> straight into action: gonna be honest, i try to avoid this one as much as possible unless it's in a multi-chapter fic where the characters/conflict have been firmly established. used outside of this, i think it works best with actions that are literal beginnings, or it feels like part of the story is missing. things like waking up, opening a door (staring at a blank page trying to write..........)

lil tips ig

★ shorter sentences: my usual writing style has a lot of lengthy sentences, but when it's the first thing a reader sees, it slows down the pace immediately. of course, there's a place for long sentences as well, but the average reader is going to go for something that grabs their attention quickly.

★ u don't have to start from the beginning!! honestly i get this from writing academic essays, but sometimes it's easier to write the beginning after you wrote the rest because even if u think u know where ur going, it can change as u write it. tbh once i wrote fic almost entirely backwards 💀

slfkjgnkjnsfglk i hope this was at least somewhat helpful, honestly i wasn't sure what to say, but i'm really excited to see ur fic!!! ik u have a lot of things planned, so i'm sure once you get the first words out there, the rest will start flowing !!!

[captaincaptainfisher]

(Sorry it's been so long since the last of these ^^;; I got distracted with Hollow Knight. Pure Vessel is kicking my ass rn)

Growth records, entry 16.

It hasn't been long since the previous recording. A small update on the pups- they are confident in their steps now, though the blue one struggles on solid ground with his webbed feet. In the future, I plan to conduct some kind of experiment involving the swampy regions of my structure, but... I'm skimming through this bit. There is much else to talk about.

Socks has brought me yet ANOTHER DNA sample from beyond the portal... This is the last one I'll be making a record of. He shows eagerness to go back out and find more, and I cannot continue giving in-depth descriptions for each one... Which, I will bring up at a later point.

He managed to convey that I should make this one another pup. And I did, though he received quite a scolding from the two females for doing so without their knowledge. This slugpup is far stranger than the others. He shot out of the machine like a cannonball, and took mere minutes to recover before he was not only walking but practically bouncing off the walls. I am taking this as a sign that he is... Healthy. Though I would rather like the cartoon springing noise to cease. It has been several hours.

He is red in colouration, and... Has one very large eye in the centre of his face. Along with two more on the tips of his ears. He has no discernible mouth, but has somehow managed to consume a ludicrous amount of food. He is... Ah... If Socks hears me say freak of nature, I will likely be getting the cold shoulder for the next few cycles, so let's say... A biological marvel. That sounds more pleasant.

He is very friendly, at least, and very affectionate. He will be a welcome addition, provided he has an off switch at some point...

And now... Something that is both good news and bad news. After so many cycles more than it's siblings, I induced the birth of the white pup.

It is alive, at least. But it is very small. It has not cried, nor has it ceased it's shivering. It is currently wrapped in fabric, sitting on my lap. The poor little creature fits into the palm of my hand... ahem. I risked a brief physical scan before returning to keeping it warm, and believe I have identified the reasoning for it's late arrival. I have been unable to discern a sex, so it will remain it for now. It's covered in thin white fur, and has several tentacle-like protrusions coming from it's back. Most importantly, it, too, has one eye in the centre of it's face. Unlike it's hairless red sibling, there is an incredibly complex mechanic attempting to exist within it's tiny little body.

It appears it would serve the same purpose as the creature known as a vulture grub, shooting a small pillar of light into the sky to summon a vulture as a defence mechanism. I have no idea why the machine has attemped to do this, but the mechanic is achieved... Well, mechanically. The vulture grub is, like the vulture, biomechanical. The pup is entirely biological. I have no idea how it's even possible that this was achieved on a non-mechanical organism, but... Well. The more complex an organism, the more opportunity for problems.

At this rate, I will be pleasantly surprised if the pup is still breathing by morning. Socks may be upset that I did this during the night while he's asleep, but he is so much more emotional than I... I believe he may have hindered my progress rather than helped it.

(Editor's note- It may sound as if I am choking up during this recording, but I am not. I do not do such things when my experiments fail.)

A smaller piece of news. I will stop reporting the addition of new arrivals here. If many more come, then I will begin another series of recordings entirely to document each one. Hopefully, not too many more... I love my slugcats, but I only have so many hands.

To end this recording... I have decided to employ the help of my slugcat friends to grow a tree atop my superstructure, where the rain does not reach them. I will have to plan this so it doesn't interfere with my communication arrays, but I believe with all the new arrivals lately and with Socks seemingly ever-eager to find more, a safe, communal home where food is plentiful may be-

(Editor's note- I had to cut out a few moments of very unpleasant noise here. Forgive the sudden cutoff.)

Aheh... Sorry about that. The pup decided to suck on my data pearl... This at least means it seems to be gaining strength. Perhaps you will make it after all, eh, little one? Just please don't eat my hardware.

Recording ends... Eugh... It's all slimy.

[ceoofmetagala]

Hi! I wanted to leave this ask here regarding a few things I've noticed over time. First I want to say, I'm a big fan of your work. I really enjoy seeing your characters and the ship dynamics that you share with the Kirby community for Meta Knight and Galacta Knight. With this though, there was a recent post that raised a few concerns. You had mentioned your disgust for the galactadad tag since most people use it for tagging Galacta Knight as MK's father figure due to your main ship having them as lovers. I was a little worried based on your reaction to this as I'm sure you feel very strongly about this and I mean nothing but respect but... to say that people's work of this would be 'the worst art imaginable' simply because it doesn't align with your headcanons? It comes off as... emotionally immature to say you'd block people on that front alone rather than just accepting it as something existing in someone else's mind/world, and that you'd be "crying" about it. Like... there's a lot of amazing people here you'll be shutting the door on with no explanation other than them posting two characters as family instead of a couple. Again, no shade, but this did concern me as it felt a little over the top of a reaction. When something's not really a 'trigger' in the sense that it causes intense emotional harm, it's best to learn some sense of tolerance for minor things like this if you want to be more comfortable in online spaces; and you'll get to enjoy a lot more people's company as a result too. I mean that with nothing but love, but genuinely I almost unfollowed because of that visceral reaction on your end over something so minor. The other thing I wanted to address was just kind of a quick question; is there a particular reason you misspell every word when typing descriptions and tags? I'm not going to ask you to go into detail about this as of course it could be very personal/disability related, but this poses a problem in some regards, specifically when tagging censors and trigger warnings. This doesn't happen very often, but a few times you've reblogged or posted art that involved certain triggers, one of which was shown despite me having it blocked due to me not having it spelled exactly as your misspelling was. If it were a genuine misspelling I wouldn't be so upset because of course things happen, but every single post I've noticed you greatly misspell nearly every word to the extent it's almost illegible, so this is a common behavior of yours. All I'm really asking on this is that you please just take extra care when adding censor tags in the future, just a quick reread of them to make sure they'll function as intended. This also goes for if you have something important to say or tag as again, blocked tag/topics cannot autocorrect on our end. Like I said, I mean this with nothing but love and concern for your online interactions because I've been there myself with some of these things. I really don't want this to come off as negative, so please don't take this as an attack; I just wanted to address some things that I noticed in my time following you so that hopefully no future issues arise from them. Otherwise, keep having fun doing what you're doing and please take care. I'm excited to see more from you!

"emotionally immature" I'm 16 what the hell did you expect me to act like a whole adult?....did you forget one of the main stereotypes for teenagers is being emotional? Also this point was espiclly hurtful to me I know you probably don't know and didn't mean to but I have autsim (self diagnosed it took me . SO LONG to even consider this and even longer to accept I have tism) and it just. Came off like you were calling me stupid which you baislcy are it's also way more confusing to what I am to peoplw I am mature to some? Am I just childish WHAT AM I? But that's not really ur fault I've just wlays had my people pleasing tenadcies along with struggling to know who I am myself

Anyways on to all the points

-"worst art imaginable" not in a. Like the art is like technically bad(like bad at skill to draw. I can admit some are good or even AMAZING at drawing what they do) I mean in way to me in how it makes me feel way not that. Like how the art makes me FEEL. Not like if if look at it and they tell me based on skill what this i would do, it's good great even like the color! Or sosmthing stupid like that and if you ask me how it makes me feel I would do the same

-blocking people over just a hc or ship is fine I'm my eyes, it's the same as blocking someone over shipping metakirby or being a proshitter, proshitters think this was I think another at it's basic core soooo...im not saying they're proshitters however I'm just saying that to explain to you why I'm my opinion it's perfectly valid to blcok someone over a ship hc or bene fandom! It's that. They are NOWEHRE near as bad but it was the best example I could think of to explain why I do it.

If the hc or ship REALLY does make me TAHT uncomftbfle I think it's fair to block someone over it ?? I don't get this point at all like why would I actively make myself upset just for the chance to intrecat with some artist?

- also the usually amazing people I'm sure they nice and lovely they tend to post A LOT about it. So I block them to avoid them in the tags I don't tend to block as soon as I see meta to galactadad I just block when I see them too much

- anything can be a trigger over the slightest things I have a friend on Twitter who needs cookie run tagged because its genuilly a trigger for it same with another who hates kirby and eveurtime meow sees Kirby, he's filled with rage and it's for VERY good reason in my eyes and I am still great friends with meow regardless

-also I am making myself more comfortable 8n these spaces. I'm litterky curating my experience by blocking out what I don't like, they always say "block if you don't like" when it comes to ship or soemthin so like? Why not to hcs as well...i don't get this point I don't HAVE to like someone I can dislike someone for no reason right? So I can dislike an aspect of a person like that. Idk this point also doesn't make sense to me

- as for any particular reason, I just...do that? I have to PHYSICALLY force myself to type otherwise I don't know any cause it just started one day... Sorry about my rbs being intelligible I just ?? Get really excited and tend to forget to try to be atleast a bit normal(? Idk how to word that last part)

- as for trigger tags, I try my best to tag triggers properly but I don't know that I have to tag it for my audince or I don't think it's necessary I don't think I've ever misspled a trigger tag ? I have bad memory but I'll try my best to keep trigger tags spelled right

- and finally yeah I'll make sure to do that, i just need to know what tags you need well, tagged. I don't know who you are. You're anonymous?

[aphroditesacolyte]

Meryl and Diosia

Ch 12. // Wake. Up. // Read on AO3

Masterpost

Summary: A dream grabs hold.

Content warnings: "you will be eaten" vibes, these guys aren't getting anymore normal from here, probably some profanity, some descriptions of violence/murder/being eaten, themes of grief and strong emotion, please read at your own discretion, thank you!

~Approx word count: 3,151 words

================================================

A shark isn’t so scary without its teeth, and an angler-fish isn’t so alluring without a light. It made Bondi feel much more secure in the current circumstances to know that, however, there wasn’t any trust in Diosia keeping his promise. A starved, desperate siren? The moment he could fly, someone like or simply Meryl himself would immediately be on the menu.

So, he’d do what he needed to keep Meryl safe. Of course, he hated to lecture Meryl, but this was important. Meryl’s life teetered right on the edge of awful fate, as it had for far too long now. The bile of thought crept up through his conscience, tainting him. He pictured it so vividly, what could happen—what would happen if Meryl wasn’t afraid. To have one’s own flesh torn and grazed, taken up and devoured by a monster, to have ones tears spilled against another’s tongue, to have one’s blood trickle down their lips and throat, to be utterly melted in their core… that was to love Diosia, and it infuriated Bondi that Meryl couldn’t see that.

Luckily, Meryl acted more fearful and dazed than anything else as they swam back from what Bondi could only pray was the last time that they’d ever see Diosia; Meryl appeared perturbed by seeing the siren. Previously, he thought that meant nothing and that regardless of Meryl’s disgust, Diosia could tug him back in with as little as his voice. Now, however, it was important.

It was foremost to Meryl’s survival that he kept that disdain, that fear, even if the display of such emotions made Bondi’s heart ache. Regardless of the sour taste it gave, he’d have to scare Meryl into never going near Diosia again. It would hurt. Meryl being anything but his kind, cheery self was upsetting to Bondi, creating a longing to protect, to keep his innocent, compassionate being forever safe—to shield it and huddle it and shelter it far away from every wretched creature like Diosia.

The thought that Meryl could be reduced to a meal by anyone at all struck a throng of crushing rage all boiling through his heart and veins, giving way to determination. He would keep Meryl safe.

It started with Meryl understanding what went on. How he had visited Diosia every few nights to see how the injured siren was getting along, and how he slowly began to natter with him, until eventually Diosia apologized all on his own, and everything was cleared up. Once he explained this to Meryl, he hoped there would be no guilt on Meryl’s end. Meryl shouldn’t feel obligated to help the siren—it was doing just fine on its own.

There was no need for further closure—it had been provided—and there was no need for ever meeting eyes with such danger again. He needed to instill this belief, and so long as it were shared between them, he hoped they would be safe. Otherwise, Bondi would have to go to further lengths against the siren.

Hopefully it knew better.

None of this embitterment was shown on Bondi’s face, its glowering breath hidden deep within his chest where it would be found by none else, unless torn up and foolishly unearthed.

“Hey, Meryl? I want to make sure we’re safe first but… we need to talk about what happened and… him.”

Meryl muttered back, “Okay, sounds good.”

The sound came to further agitate him; the passivity that Meryl held had always frustrated Bondi, not due to it being annoying, but rather so detrimental to his close friend. He wished the merman used his voice, though, this was a time that a lack of boldness and demand may come to be better for them both. It comforted him to know that Meryl wouldn’t fight.

 Even so, he could feel the tension rise as they traveled through the trunks and branches of the kelp, nearing his home. Eventually they made it to his spot, quite cozy and now gift-free—he’d have to check where Meryl put them all sometime.

There was no need for any attachment. Not to that beast.

”Meryl.” He spoke, and drew attention over easily;  “Diosia is a killer.”

“I-I know.” Meryl murmured.

The blue eyes were pained with a keen awareness, it made him worried sick.

“I believe I have already informed you; Roka’s sister disappeared a few months ago.” Bondi spoke on, grimly, “No one knows where she went.”

He scanned over Meryl, and took note of how his expression seemed to indicate a recollection of her; Bondi’s own heart still ached whilst thinking of her. She had been a sister to him, she had been family.

“That could’ve been—”

His temper snapped, and his eyes flickered with grieving anger. “It was him. You know it was.” He hissed.

He saw the desperate, wide-eyed denial in Meryl’s innocent face.

”I don’t think you understand how serious it is. It’s easy to think someone disappearing is scary and terrible, but it’s hard to understand what it really entails. She was killed, Meryl, and I know you didn’t know her well, but I did.”

Meryl’s lips pressed together tightly, creating a thin, sad line.

”Do you realize what it’s like, Meryl?”

A saddened love burned in Meryl’s eyes, a desperate, desperate feeling of sympathy. The look grounded him, that look of love and understanding. Meryl understood the pain well, even if he were yet to feel the wound himself.

“Do you realize what she must’ve felt? How the world must’ve been for her then?”

Meryl rasped, “Bondi, I am so sor—”

“It had to of been terrifying, Meryl.” His arms crossed tightly over his chest, as if to further bury the pain that swelled and ached within him, and then found the strength to continue on in a slight croak, “Do you know what it means to be killed by a siren? Have you heard the stories?”

“I… only when I was younger. I don’t remember. I know what being eaten is, I just—”

Bondi let himself become timid, his voice soft and lingering, reminiscent in a hollowing, decayed way. “I know a story similar to it; you know the story of Selkie, don’t you?”

“The mermaid who follows a river stream because she wants to find a pearl?”

At this point, he claimed control of his tone. It became factual, a cadence of a history teacher, or a dull mentor. He went on, “Yes. She’s adventurous and kind, and one day goes out looking for a pearl amongst the bed of the river Ictalurus, fabled to be the home of both treasures and beasts.”

“I already know how the story ends, Bondi—”

“She’s swallowed up whole by the catfish that lives there, and Selkie is lost.”

Meryl argued, softly, “Diosia isn’t a catfish.”

“But he could swallow you whole like one.”

Meryl recoiled at this brazen remark; a hateful curl of his hand indicated his shock, and Bondi felt suddenly snared by the reaction. Still, he continued on;

“Sirens are monsters. His jaws will part, wide enough to take you in entirely. They aren’t like us. They don’t kill their food and prep them first, they pick something up, and they bite in, or they skip it entirely and just swallow. They’re too ravenous, too savage to do otherwise.”

“I’m lucky to have never experienced it. Imagine a sweltering net, crafted out of a dozen manta rays all sown together, pressed to your face to the point that you can’t breathe. It’s slick and suffocating: that’s what it would be like in his throat.” Bondi growled.

He went on, “If you’re lucky, you might just asphyxiate before the pain begins, but with sirens, the chances are low. They’re creatures of hell itself, Meryl. They are made to punish and torment our kind, and nothing more.

“If you survive being swallowed, it only gets worse. It starts to tingle, so lightly and subtly that you might miss it in the dark, dark panic it will put you in. It’ll get worse and worse, and then it’ll burn. It’ll rise up, and the taste and scent of acid consuming your own body might just be enough to make you puke.

“And that wouldn’t change a thing. You’d be luckier if he tore out your intestines and ate them while you watched, but he’s fascinated with you Meryl. He wouldn’t make it merciful. He doesn’t know mercy.”

But unlike Dioisa, Bondi did. He let himself fall silent, and let Meryl fall into his arms.

It was a tight, trembling embrace between them, one that jarred all feelings out of him and left him tearful as well. Meryl burrowed into him preciously, and he returned it as the unwanted poignance leered over him still.

“I’m sorry.” Bondi murmured.

"I love you, Bondi."

“I love you too, Meryl.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rough grit of rock against Meryl's back was a reminder of the conversation he had just been in, only last night. He huddled further into the grit within his little den, his teeth rolling over his lower lip as it became bitten raw by thought. When he looked at the culmination of every event and everything that had occurred thus far, the immediate, logical thought was to avoid the siren at all costs. Then, when he looked to what he wanted—what he longed for—it was Diosia.

Maybe everyone was right, maybe there was no such thing as a good siren. But then, if they were right about someone like Diosia—were they right about him? The thought stung like an open wound.

Bondi didn’t seem to think poorly of him, nothing that he knew anyways, and Bondi was always very open about those things: opinionated. Bondi wouldn’t fake a twenty-or-something-year friendship, he knew that, but he wondered if Bondi wasn’t being entirely honest with him. Did he think he was stupid?

He felt stupid.

It was foolish of him, utterly foolish at every turn to ever go back to Diosia at all, let alone willingly. What made it worse was that for as many bad things and reasons he should stay away, he could find good ones. The only thing Diosia had done that was slightly unjustifiable in his mind was to hurt Bondi, otherwise, he didn’t mind all that much. It was funny considering how scary he thought Diosia was.

Diosia, someone who could take everything from him in the blink of an eye, hardly more than a few simple movements of the hand to do so, and only have to lick his lips after—that’s what Diosia was. But that felt too simplistic in his mind, Diosia was more.

Diosia was patient, in his own odd, diluted way. He listened carefully, became attentive to all details of his being. He charmed Meryl greatly despite the fear he instilled; the allure Diosia had was hypnotizing.

He was patient, he was charming, he was attentive, and, though the thought came shallowly, so very handsome. And it was nothing more than a part of Diosia’s being, these were all things natural to him. He didn’t choose to be hypnotizing and enchanting, he simply was. Meryl loved it—almost envied it, even—how someone could naturally be so appealing and pleasant to be around, so enticing. Meanwhile he stressed out over whether or not the pitch and octave of his voice was annoying or not—Diosia’s voice was perfect.

He was perfect, at his core.

A perfect being who did wretched things, some that he couldn’t blame him for, that he had almost begun to darkly sympathize with, and others he just couldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand why Diosia would go out of his way to harm someone other than to eat them.

Besides, Meryl remembered it so clearly. Diosia had promised he wanted no other mer; the powerful, velvety growl replayed in his head over and over again.

Diosia had no business trying to hurt Bondi.

He saw Bondi as an obstacle though, Meryl understood that, as somehow, he could imagine it making sense. Bondi wanted him to have nothing to do with Diosia. It was a logical conclusion to deem Bondi an obstacle in their way of being together, but it wasn’t the case at all.

It wasn’t Bondi who pressed some sort of rift into their relationship, it was Diosia. Diosia who tried to kill his best friend, and Diosia who threatened to eat him, consume him, envelop him entirely and suffocate him in the process.

It was Diosia’s fault, his flawed thinking.

Meryl did not feel without blame of course—he really should’ve kept Bondi out of it, away from that flawed thinking. But he was realizing now that he wasn’t the true cause of Bondi’s wounds or Diosia’s mess. Diosia chose to act poorly, and now they all suffered the consequences.

He thought over what he had seen of Diosia once more, the terrible claw marks dragging down his face, and his heart twinged in empathy. To see Diosia hurt wasn’t as painful as seeing Bondi hurt, not even half as much, but he still hated it so.

Plus, at the very least he should be owed an explanation- a full explanation. Bondi explained that Diosia apologized and that regardless Diosia was still dangerous, but he didn’t even know why Diosia did it, what he was thinking. And why had Diosia ignored him when he sought him out? Yes, he was owed a complete explanation, although Diosia clearly wasn’t going to get up and deliver it, so he’d get it himself.

He pushed out of the mouth of his little den and swam bold and quick in the broad daylight.

He knew exactly where he was going and exactly how to get there. It was all clear in his mind, and yet still said mind was rushing, anxious at the thought of seeing Diosia again for more reason than one. Would Diosia be willing to explain, or would he just start up with the games he always played? What if Meryl didn’t play along and what if he did? More calculations did him no good, he was acting on what he felt was right in his heart.

Even if it may have been wrong.

Quickly the ocean floor began to slope up, telling him he was close to shore. From there he sped along to the estuary, catching the sight of all its shelters of greens and browns, welcoming vegetation under the bright sun.

It wouldn’t be hard to spot Diosia now, in the night the black colours concealed him, but they’d surely expose him in the afternoon, when the sun permitted not a shadow in sight. Unless Diosia had left this spot and hid himself away. In that case, Meryl wasn’t so sure how to find him. However, considering this was where he lounged last night when meeting Bondi, it was likely this is where he’d be staying. Meryl got the sense Diosia was quite fine with sleeping wherever he happened to be; Diosia was comfortable and confident. And perfect.

Meryl slowed as patches of sand along the shore became more familiar, the glimmering waters that reflected the sun itself ever so slightly blinding him as he did so. The patches were bright—they glared at him the same way the water did, while shiny plants breathed normally and the creeping of a bird or a snake gliding across the ground and surface of the water was normal and all the same.

One of the patches were unlike all others, for rather than the yellow grains the most prominent sight was someone sprawled out across it, basking in the sun. He lied on his side, an arm supporting his head while the other was set out against the warmth of the soft sand. His body held only the most subtle of movements, the rise and fall of his chest, for he was otherwise relaxed and still, and a wing notably arched over him and casted some shade over his body.

He slept on his right side to spare his injured face, but in doing so displayed it clearly, as well as many other cuts all along his clothes and body. The position was so passive, so gentle, Meryl immediately felt bad for him.

His hands sunk into the beach’s blanket, cozy and comforting as he leaned over and peered at Diosia, who still slept as blissfully as ever. It was a little endearing.

When he first came, he had been planning to be very stern with Diosia, a cut to the chase. Now he felt as if he could melt into the sand and fall asleep right beside him with how peaceful it looked.

He is NOT cuddly, Meryl scolded himself.

I wish he were.

He inched closer and murmured, “Diosia.”

Diosia shifted ever so slightly, almost burrowing into the sand as he did so.

Meryl reached out and gently placed his hand on his shoulder, immediately gaping at how warm he felt. When he looked back, hazy eyes were slowly taking in his presence.

“H-hello, Diosia.”

He pulled his hand away, heart beating and face set ablaze from the predator that laid out before him who was hardly fazed or bothered by his presence. He wanted to curl up and hide from the piercing yellow that flicked over him casually. Quick to cave in, he was at the very least beginning to cover his flush, bright face.

Diosia still hardly moved, remaining timid and passive as he murmured, “Mmmmm-Merrrrryl...”

“H-hi.”

Diosia smiled ever so slightly, taking slow, lumbering motions, and began to stretch.

“Is—“ he took a long pause to stretch himself out, but half-way through sleepily gave up, flopping down against the sand once more. “—important…?”

Meryl finally reclaimed his focus. “Yes, Diosia. It’s important.”

With a large yawn he answered, “Oooookay.”

The weight of sleep pressed heavily into Dioisa’s features, almost as if the siren hadn’t ever woken up. Enervated by the mere existence of the sun, Diosia was almost lulled to sleep before the conversation even truly began.

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

Diosia gave a tired sigh. “What do you mean?”

“After your fight with Bondi.” He elaborated, gently.

Diosia tilted his head towards him. “Hm?”

“I went looking for you and you weren’t there- anywhere I looked, actually.”

“Oh,” Dioisa uttered, and drowsily pushed himself to a sitting position, where one wing curved beautifully and the other drooped down, spread across the sand. “I’ve been here since then…I’m...hhh…sstuckk.”

“What?”

Diosia sighed in the same tired way, dismissing the question as he curled back up on the ground once again.

“Diosia.” Meryl scolded, raising his tone.

Diosia closed his eyes, ignoring him.

“Tired.”

“Please.”

“Nnn-no.”

Meryl couldn’t fight him on it, helplessly watching as Diosia started doze back off to sleep. All he could do was flop down beside him and wait.

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<- <- <- Last Part | Next Part -> -> ->

[optiwashere]

It's BAFFLING. I'm sorry for piggybacking off of your reply, but hopefully you understand why I'd like the distance from them when I get through my points.

There's a lot in that person's response I find hilarious, but there's some genuinely pretty horrible stuff and it's actually upsetting to see this posted so brazenly. Hopefully it's a lack of self-awareness and not intended to be what it reads like.

In fact, I'm going to ignore the rest of the response to really hone in on the first full paragraph. Not even the whole paragraph, actually. I won't get into the queer readings of Shadowheart's story or how deeply it's resonated with a lot of queer people who experienced repressive, regressive childhoods in religious upbringings that wanted to deny them who they are. I won't even talk about the inherent trans allegory I and many other non-cis folks see in her story, as much as I want to.

People can like whatever characters they want. That should be obvious, but I'll state it out front so my stance is clear. It means actually nothing to me that they don't like Shadowheart, but the lack of self-awareness in the comparison feels disingenuous at best. Not to mention the very nasty implication that only cishet straight men like her by bringing up an entirely different topic rather than the AO3 tags, which are not necessarily smutty.

And where do I fit into their version of who counts as women and queer people?

I'm a woman who likes women and I love her. I've written a frankly enormous amount of fanfiction about her. There are countless WLW and queer people that like her, and many of them follow me/I follow many of them. I enjoy some of the smutty art but don't like the 3D model porn and find it deeply unappealing. I also write smut about her. It's 99% of the time focused on her character more than the actual fucking, too. I'm just using myself as an example, but there are tons of people in my shoes writing and reading Shadowheart fanfiction (smutty or not!) that suddenly don't belong in their artificially exclusionary description of women and queer folks.

To exclude all the cis women and trans women that like Shadowheart from their take that she's for cishet straight men? Excluding NB folks, trans men, and honestly every other queer demographic from their interpretation of the queer subgroup? Denying us is part of that implication, and I'm going to hope (probably naively) that they don't realize what they said.

I'm absolutely appalled to see someone post that and feel like it's a strong take worth any space on their blog. Worse, I'm annoyed that I wasted my time reading that drivel, because even if it's not intended as the TERF rhetoric it's grossly adjacent to then it is, at best, an honest to goodness "our noble vampire vs. their barbarous Sharran" post.

A common issue in fandom spaces is female characters ignored in favor of their male counterparts, and one of the biggest reasons I see given is that the women just aren't as interesting as the men. They're placed in lesser roles with less story impact, less personality, less character development, so of course the men get more fan interest.

With that in mind, here's 9 sets of characters who DO have comparable characterization, plot relevance/presence, and personal development -- and how many tagged works each character has on Archive of Our Own. Spoilers: it's pretty bad.

[theinnerunderrain]

Lure the Midnight Hour [Yan!Childe x Nun!Reader]

Warnings/Tags: Yandere themes, mentions of murder and violence, religious and philosophical concepts, description of blood, slight age gap between the characters (Reader is 17 and Childe is 16) there's no romantic feelings or implications involved.

Word count: 1.8k!

Enjoy!

-

"Bless me, Sister, for I have sinned. This will be my first confession, and hopefully my last."

As the young man spoke, you listened intently, your mind already pondering how to respond to whatever challenge he was encountering. Your heart opened to his word, constantly reminding yourself that one must not judge a sin of another, and can instead only listen and pray for them to beg for forgiveness. Due to the late hour of the night, the reconciliation room was somewhat cold, and the only source of warmth was from a candle that hung on the other side of the room, barely casting any light against you.

"I think I have killed a man today."

As your mind struggles to carefully digest his words, your blood starts to run cold at what he reveals.

Is he being sincere?

The majority of people typically confess to their lesser crimes or something they feel ashamed about during the two years that you have spent listening to confessions. The word "kill" has never before been spoken in your company.

"Like an actual human being, I can still hear his screams in the back of my mind. He was begging and begging, asking me to spare his life."

He sighs, as if irritated at his victim for pleading with him to spare his life. His lack of sympathy concerns you, because the average person would probably just spare the person's life and carry on, but this does not appear to be the case for him.

"Nonetheless, a promise is still a promise. We fight with the promise of exchanging lives for the victor."

A duel then? You don't know much about the regulations of two-on-two sparring, but you imagine that throwing your life on the line has been prohibited for fifty years, due to the amount of casualties that it has prompted before.

"He was the one who suggested it in the first place."

Although you couldn't see him, you could tell that the man was huffing slightly from the other side of the screen. His arms were mostly crossed, and his lips were twisted into a frown as he spoke.

Maybe it's not a sin after all?

Since the other man may have been the first to establish such a rule, and the young man in front of you may have been forced to participate in such a duel?

"But in the end, he was too weak."

But his following statements made you reconsider your opinion. For someone who was admitting guilt to murder within the monastery of God, his sentiments were surprisingly frigid. You would have inferred that this young man was still under twenty from the tone of his voice and speech habits. The way he spoke was rather lighthearted, similar to the tone a young child would constantly speak in.

"So I ended up killing him."

You faltered for a moment as you tried to find the proper phrases to use.

"Do you regret doing what you did?"

You questioned while gazing aimlessly into the statue that was hanging in front of you. However, all this actually accomplished was to attempt to soothe your anxieties in the hopes that God would help you communicate with this child.

"Though I ought to, I have no feeling. Just emptiness"

He gave a burly response, as if he had heard this inquiry a thousand times before. Even yet, you began to wonder if his previous exposure to the query may help to explain his generally impassive demeanour.

"I must, however, apologise to Sister. I am aware that hearing someone profess to killing someone is certainly upsetting."

"...No, it's alright. Everything within the church will be judged fairly in the eyes of God."

Despite the fact that anything confessed in a religious setting must be kept private between the confessor and the listener. His abrupt admission of using violence did not make you feel any better of having to keep such a tedious act under the rug. If it wasn't for the strict rule within the church, you would have left the moment he confessed to his crime.

"You know what? On second consideration, I believe I should leave. I feel a little guilty for impeding your pursuit for affirmations."

Normally, according to your instructions, you would have prevented the person from departing and encouraged them to a seat so they could take a moment to relax. Yet, you were unable to genuinely utter those words whilst praying for the sick man to leave this church, you felt a little terrible for wishing such a thing from God. You were aware that he may perform more tedious deeds if left alone with the outside world, but what could a simple nun like you possibly do?

"May I receive your blessings before I leave?"

You hesitated before reaching up to the screen with your palm outstretched in an effort to bless the young man.

"Grant this man the wisdom, understanding, and strength they need to follow in the footsteps of-."

Suddenly, his bloodied hand shoots through the screen and grabs hold of your wrist forcefully, leading you to shriek out in horror as his nails pierces through the layer of your skin.

"I..I need you to let go of me right now."

You spoke, attempting to keep your voice stable but failing due to your fear. You struggled against his hands in an attempt to loosen his abnormally tenuous grip, but your efforts were fruitless. Perhaps he was some sort of warrior? That would explain his abnormal strength.

"Sister, but before I do that. May I ask you a question?"

Despite the misery he was subjecting you to, the man speaking on the opposite side of the screen had a fairly cheerful tone to his voice. However, you must admit that it is to be anticipated given that he just publicly admitted to murder in a church, a place of worship where God prevails. You wondered if this man was even a believer of God, or if he was simply an atheist, seeking to play some cruel prank upon you.

"....Yes, go on."

You responded, pleading with your benevolent God to deliver you from this immense suffering. With your other hand firmly clenching your rosemary, you whispered a few brief prayers in the hope that the person on the other end of the line wouldn't hear you.

"Do you truly believe murder is a sin?"

What kind of a question is that? Given that everything is within God's authority, any action that results in the taking of another person's life is obviously sinful. Once you've committed such a terrible sin, perhaps not even pleading for forgiveness will be enough to redeem you.

"It is."

For a brief moment, there was silence in the room, which made you feel uneasy than you already were. As you waited for his response, you could feel sweat starting to accumulate on the center of your forehead, despite the cold temperature within the dimly-lit room.

"But doesn't God always claim the lives of those around him? He would end the suffering of everyone if he were sincere in his desire to preserve his people.

Normally, you would have reprimanded someone for uttering such a vulgar question, believing that they were ridiculing God..However, you could tell that the man sitting in front of you was being genuine since his tone lacked any trace of sarcasm, only an interest in nature.

"That is true."

As you spoke, you closed your eyes and sought to swallow your dread in order to think of a response that would soothe his concerns and encourage him to leave the church.

"However, we must remember that we are merely mortals and not some sort of transcendent being. We are only grains of dust in the universe, regardless of whether God exists or not."

He thoughtfully listens to what you suggest, never once opening his mouth to speak in response. His hold on your arms begins to loosen up a little. You even ponder whether he was actually paying attention to what you said, seeping every word into his heart.

"We must therefore lead morally upright lives, even without a God."

You finish your speech, fluttering your eyes open once again, drawing in a deep breath. The man on the other line hummed carefully, as if he was gradually allowing your words to sleep into his kind.

Finally he spoke.

"I see, Sister. Thank you so much for your philosophical guidance. I will keep that in mind."

His hands drew back to the other side of the panel as the hold he had on your arm entirely released. You grimaced as you raised your arms to your face and noticed that some of the warm blood that was oozing down your forearm had already dried up.

Despite having seen blood before, you have never enjoyed having to directly touch blood because it always made you feel soiled. As the sound of the chair grinding against the floorboards finally travels through your ears, a wave of relief floods through you.

He's leaving.

"Thank you for having taken the time to listen to my confession."

A mess of orange curls could just about be seen through the darkness as he stood up in the dimly lit room. Have you recently seen those curls somewhere else? Orange hair wasn't prevalent in the area, although his hair could potentially be blonde and just appear orange due to the lighting of the room.

That isn't plausible, though. Perhaps what transpired has left you feeling a little jittery.

"Ah before I leave," the young man paused and peered through the booth separating the two of you. You were relieved that the room was rather dark and that you had opted to wear a white veil while attending to the confession, maybe you should wear a veil everyday. His blue eyes stood out against the shadows; they were soulless eyes that mirrored a demon's existence in many dimensions

Perhaps he was a demon in disguise, lurking to take and savour every inch of your soul.

The mere thought induces a frigid shudder to travel down your spine, that's just absurd to think about.

"I'll be sure to return again, since I had a very fun time conversing with you. Be sure to be here on every Thursday, strictly at 10 pm."

You cowered in despair as you struggled to remove the blood off your forearm after he left the reconciliation room.

Why did he have to stain you like this?

As you scrub your skin with an emergency towel that is hidden beneath the desk, tears are on the verge of streaming down your face as you murmured a few words of blessings, trying to reaffirm your mental state.

No, perhaps you were correct. He could have genuinely been a ferocious devil masquerading as a person.

That would merely account for his lack of humanity.

There's no way a normal person can be so, apathetic.

[haifengg]

Pairing: RengokuxGN!Reader

Note: Hopefully this is the first KNY work of many. Requests are currently open, so if you find a work of mine for some other random that you enjoy don’t hesitate to request it for The groups stated in the blog description.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He shows his affection by acts of service. His definition of ‘I love you’ is ‘I will do things for you’. Rather than wanting you to do stuff for him he loves it if he can be of help and if you rely on him. Of course there are days when he’s worn out and needs being taken care of but mostly he’s full of energy.

B = Before (What were they like when they had a crush?)

Painfully obvious. He would ask everyone about you. Talk about you relentlessly. Try everything to be around you more.

At some points your mutual friends would go to you and beg you to go on a date with him just to make it stop.

C = Confession (What was their confession like?)

After that whole story I don’t think it needed a confession. As Rengoku was aware. He probably would have loved to properly confess but … yeah he kinda blew it.

D = Date (What was the first official date they went on?)

For the both of you the first date wasn’t an actual date. It was just one of the times he rescheduled everything to be with you on some actual lame thing like … studying or whatnot but because this man was so obvious there had already been sparks all over the place.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I suppose you would already know before it even happens. His demeanor and way he behaves when you’re around would already have changed. I can see him trying to pull through and hoping for things to get better but once he notices that won’t happen he break up very fairly. If you already live together he’d move out. Just because his romantic feelings for you have changed doesn’t mean he doesn’t still care about you. And since it is him breakingup he’d want you to be as comfortable as possible with the change of situation. (Maybe he’d even ask mutual friends to check in on you from time to time.)

F = Fights (What would fights look like? What are things that upset them?)

It’s difficult to fight with him because a) he can be _intense_ and b) storms out and doesn’t come back.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

His Love language is (apart from acts of service) physical touch. Therefore I can’t see him talk much rather than listening to you and hugging you on the sofa or holding your hand across the table.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Rengoku yearns for physical touch. He hugs you often, at all different kinds of occasions and in so many different ways. He pulls you closer by your waist when introducing you to someone or puts his arms around you on an escalator.

I = Intimacy (What is their favorite form of intimacy? Do they have problems with it?)

Getting ready together. It is important to him that you take good care of yourself. He enjoys seeing you do skin care and taking vitamins because it’s a sign to him that everything is in order.

Rengoku also enjoys taking you out to eat for the same reason.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Uhm… hm … difficult. I’d say he would only get jealous if there is a reason. For example that you talk about them too much or spend too much time with them (to the point you don’t have time for him anymore) or if there’s a shared past/trauma. Other than that I suppose he’s chill bc he knows and trusts you.

K = Kisses (Are they a good kisser? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His favorite place to be kissed is the back of his neck. When you hug him from behind and place a small peck in his neck. He loves it.

His favorite place to kiss you is inner thighs *coughs* you didn’t get that from me.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Of course. I suppose if you read this you’ve seen him with his brother. And please, those genetics really gotta be passed on.

M = Messages (How often do they text his S/O?)

Since Rengoku is usually at work he doesn’t text much. One thing you like about him is being serious about everything he does but that also includes following the no-phone rule at his workplace almost up to 100%.

I can also see him not texting you ‘good morning’ but leaving a note on the table when he leaves home. ANd definitely kissing you goodbye if you’re also awake that early.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Most of the time Rengoku comes home late. Once you confronted him about it (bc you’d like to see your boyfriend once in a while and actually have dinner with him) but when he explained it to you all your anger just poofed away. It turns out that he had been staying late in the office to help some new coworkers with their chores. It turns out that their boss is pretty pernickety so it established soon that experienced employees help the new ones.

After you made sure that said coworkers are either male or married you let it go. But you also made sure you got your message across and Rengoku promised he would try to come home earlier.

O = Opinion (Would they ask for their S/O’s opinion a lot? How important is it in terms of decisions?)

He gives a lot about your opinion since your taste in certain things is one of many traits that made him attracted to you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Since Rengoku is not just a saint himself but also an experienced team leader at work he has an insane amount of patience. If he should get angry or annoyed he’d stuff it down and get real quiet. Maybe he avoids you for a few hours and then goes back to normal.

Confronting him or fighting with him is probably really difficult.

Q = Quizzes (How does a bar trivia night teamed up with them look like?)

This. Man. Is. So. Motivated. But doesn’t know shit. Rengoku would enter the competition extremely eager and ready to declare war but eventually wouldn’t know how to answer anything because he genuinely doesn’t follow pop-culture.

His face would stay the same tho. The same confident and dumb-ass  crazy smile he’d put on every day.

R = Remember (How much do they remember about their S/O or their relationship in general?)

He remembers a lot. Not everything but most stuff. Especially the things you’d like him to forget immediately after they happened. Stuff that made you embarrassed? He’d remember you constantly and tease you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Rengoku is protective. No doubt. But since he knows you can stand up for yourself he sometimes also enjoys just being you cheerleader and watching you rule.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Depending on how much effort his partner puts into it. Sometimes Rengoku would love to go full out but he learned how to dial back and how less is more. What he really enjoys are weekend trips. Getting away and just enjoying the quiet with you.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a S/O?)

Rengoku is a man that oozes respect. For nearly everything and everyone but most of all for you. He is someone who knows his own flaws and works on them relentlessly. He is also the most loyal boyfriend one could find, willing to work on a relationship that’s worth so much to him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Semi. I mean, sure he is clean and everything but since he has his one look and never changes everything about it he surely doesn’t pay too much attention to these things. If you’d mention a certain look you’d like to see on him you would also have to go shopping with him because there isn’t much reliance on his fashion sense.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their S/O?

Definitely.

X = X-Ray (How transparent are they?)

Rengoku probably doesn’t tell you everything but will disclose if you  ask. A lot of things have happened in his life before they met you and he doesn’t want it to weigh on you.

Y = Yuck (Everyone has flaws. What is theirs?)

Dude can’t whisper.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Insists on going to bed together. Since most times you don’t see each other much during the day because of your different work schedules - he enjoys brushing teeth together and the little bathroom talks you have from time to time. Watching you get upset about something that happened that day, threatening things with a toothbrush sometimes is the highlight of his day.

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[smiletimeisrunningout]

"Well, how did they put it? Angry swans charge at you like... ah, little demonic beasts that will make far too much damage for their size. I'm almost quoting here. So my moniker has been used by my closest friends in that manner instead. Those men were only trying to steal food so of course I'm not too upset-I was upset, don't misunderstand, I don't condone scaring innocent people who can't properly fight back, let alone trying to rob them, but there have been time in which-well, honestly, I don't think I was so... that I fully deserve that description, you know. In any case, it's very difficult to anger me. And my... fighting style hopefully won't need to be displayed here." While she wasn't angry at them she was still glad he hadn't seen the exact way she had brought them down, given that she'd like to keep some semblance of femininity.

"It's fine, I'll make dresses work," she told him, because telling him that she'd rather keep something that at least let her display some of her most useful assets would likely scandalize the man.

"Indeed we must," he agreed, looking back once again, because the man seemed to confirm his wife's story that the lady had been fighting while she ran and that was simply baffling. Even more baffling was that now the lady seemed to be compensating his wife with something after their indiscernible talk and not taking a no for an answer. "I told you. You must take it if only for my peace of mind. Sadly we must part ways now, it's a very busy day. Oh, how sad that we must leave immediately when there is such good company here," this time Emma spoke to the baby in her arms while they were joining the men, "Your son is adorable, my heart is already in his hands." "Thank you... and thank you for everything, of course, for-for my wife, which... I'm told you rescued fighting three assailants, and that's..." Emma gave him one assessing look and smiled, forcing herself to return the child to his mother, "If the Major hasn't already taken credit, believe me, I wouldn't have gotten too far without him, he's simply too modest." "Ah, yes," the man was blatantly relieved that the world was still the one he knew, "Of course, but I still thank you for your bravery." Emma grinned, "And you are very welcome. Shall we go, Major? I'll need your assistance to get on that horse." And then he could have his breakfast.

"You get angry?” Ben asked, sparing her a skeptical glance. “Thus far, I have seen you perplexed, mulish, and jarringly chipper, but never angry – not even towards those highwaymen who rest-assuredly deserved your wrath.”

Sighing at Emma’s conjecture – must she speak so openly about the female body? – he avoided her gaze and replied, “Men have worn dresses – gabardines, to be precise – since at least the Middle Ages. Perhaps we can find you one of those instead. I’d say the less likely you are to kick someone, the better.” Especially since at this rate, the victim would surely be himself.

She yet again floored him with her compassion – why did she care for him? Surely, their acquaintance was not enough to merit such devotion? – and mercifully, something distracted Emma and dragged their conversation to a halt.

“There!”

Following her gaze, Ben straightened at the sight of a couple alongside a small cabin. “Swan, wait a moment,” he entreated. “Perhaps they don’t wish for-” She took off running, not even pretending to heed his request. “Swan!” he hissed again, then cursed before chasing after.

Thankfully, the woman seemed delighted to see Emma again and the princess, in turn, was equally thrilled to find the victim unharmed. After glancing toward the husband (who seemed equally bemused), Ben offered him a faint smile and nod.

“I am in her debt, and yours for rescuing her before I could. Her distraction may be the only reason my wife lives.”

Ben’s smile wiped clean. “Oh no, uh…I am afraid Miss Swan had the entire affair in hand,” he assured the other man. “I arrived in the thick of it, but everything was under control – I merely escorted her to ensure your wife was safe.” Returning his attentions to the two women, he promised, “And as for your debt, it is completely unnecessary. I may not have known Miss Swan for very long, but I can assure you of this: she never once considered this an issue of repayment. And neither do I. In these trying times, we must protect one another, should we not?”

[innerunderrain]

Lure the Midnight Hour [Yan!Childe x Nun!Reader]

Warnings/Tags: Yandere themes, mentions of murder and violence, religious and philosophical concepts, description of blood, slight age gap between the characters (Reader is 17 and Childe is 16) there's no romantic feelings or implications involved.

Word count: 1.8k!

Enjoy!

-

"Bless me, Sister, for I have sinned. This will be my first confession, and hopefully my last."

As the young man spoke, you listened intently, your mind already pondering how to respond to whatever challenge he was encountering. Your heart opened to his word, constantly reminding yourself that one must not judge a sin of another, and can instead only listen and pray for them to beg for forgiveness. Due to the late hour of the night, the reconciliation room was somewhat cold, and the only source of warmth was from a candle that hung on the other side of the room, barely casting any light against you.

"I think I have killed a man today."

As your mind struggles to carefully digest his words, your blood starts to run cold at what he reveals.

Is he being sincere?

The majority of people typically confess to their lesser crimes or something they feel ashamed about during the two years that you have spent listening to confessions. The word "kill" has never before been spoken in your company.

"Like an actual human being, I can still hear his screams in the back of my mind. He was begging and begging, asking me to spare his life."

He sighs, as if irritated at his victim for pleading with him to spare his life. His lack of sympathy concerns you, because the average person would probably just spare the person's life and carry on, but this does not appear to be the case for him.

"Nonetheless, a promise is still a promise. We fight with the promise of exchanging lives for the victor."

A duel then? You don't know much about the regulations of two-on-two sparring, but you imagine that throwing your life on the line has been prohibited for fifty years, due to the amount of casualties that it has prompted before.

"He was the one who suggested it in the first place."

Although you couldn't see him, you could tell that the man was huffing slightly from the other side of the screen. His arms were mostly crossed, and his lips were twisted into a frown as he spoke.

Maybe it's not a sin after all?

Since the other man may have been the first to establish such a rule, and the young man in front of you may have been forced to participate in such a duel?

"But in the end, he was too weak."

But his following statements made you reconsider your opinion. For someone who was admitting guilt to murder within the monastery of God, his sentiments were surprisingly frigid. You would have inferred that this young man was still under twenty from the tone of his voice and speech habits. The way he spoke was rather lighthearted, similar to the tone a young child would constantly speak in.

"So I ended up killing him."

You faltered for a moment as you tried to find the proper phrases to use.

"Do you regret doing what you did?"

You questioned while gazing aimlessly into the statue that was hanging in front of you. However, all this actually accomplished was to attempt to soothe your anxieties in the hopes that God would help you communicate with this child.

"Though I ought to, I have no feeling. Just emptiness"

He gave a burly response, as if he had heard this inquiry a thousand times before. Even yet, you began to wonder if his previous exposure to the query may help to explain his generally impassive demeanour.

"I must, however, apologise to Sister. I am aware that hearing someone profess to killing someone is certainly upsetting."

"...No, it's alright. Everything within the church will be judged fairly in the eyes of God."

Despite the fact that anything confessed in a religious setting must be kept private between the confessor and the listener. His abrupt admission of using violence did not make you feel any better of having to keep such a tedious act under the rug. If it wasn't for the strict rule within the church, you would have left the moment he confessed to his crime.

"You know what? On second consideration, I believe I should leave. I feel a little guilty for impeding your pursuit for affirmations."

Normally, according to your instructions, you would have prevented the person from departing and encouraged them to a seat so they could take a moment to relax. Yet, you were unable to genuinely utter those words whilst praying for the sick man to leave this church, you felt a little terrible for wishing such a thing from God. You were aware that he may perform more tedious deeds if left alone with the outside world, but what could a simple nun like you possibly do?

"May I receive your blessings before I leave?"

You hesitated before reaching up to the screen with your palm outstretched in an effort to bless the young man.

"Grant this man the wisdom, understanding, and strength they need to follow in the footsteps of-."

Suddenly, his bloodied hand shoots through the screen and grabs hold of your wrist forcefully, leading you to shriek out in horror as his nails pierces through the layer of your skin.

"I..I need you to let go of me right now."

You spoke, attempting to keep your voice stable but failing due to your fear. You struggled against his hands in an attempt to loosen his abnormally tenuous grip, but your efforts were fruitless. Perhaps he was some sort of warrior? That would explain his abnormal strength.

"Sister, but before I do that. May I ask you a question?"

Despite the misery he was subjecting you to, the man speaking on the opposite side of the screen had a fairly cheerful tone to his voice. However, you must admit that it is to be anticipated given that he just publicly admitted to murder in a church, a place of worship where God prevails. You wondered if this man was even a believer of God, or if he was simply an atheist, seeking to play some cruel prank upon you.

"....Yes, go on."

You responded, pleading with your benevolent God to deliver you from this immense suffering. With your other hand firmly clenching your rosemary, you whispered a few brief prayers in the hope that the person on the other end of the line wouldn't hear you.

"Do you truly believe murder is a sin?"

What kind of a question is that? Given that everything is within God's authority, any action that results in the taking of another person's life is obviously sinful. Once you've committed such a terrible sin, perhaps not even pleading for forgiveness will be enough to redeem you.

"It is."

For a brief moment, there was silence in the room, which made you feel uneasy than you already were. As you waited for his response, you could feel sweat starting to accumulate on the center of your forehead, despite the cold temperature within the dimly-lit room.

"But doesn't God always claim the lives of those around him? He would end the suffering of everyone if he were sincere in his desire to preserve his people.*

Normally, you would have reprimanded someone for uttering such a vulgar question, believing that they were ridiculing God..However, you could tell that the man sitting in front of you was being genuine since his tone lacked any trace of sarcasm, only an interest in nature.

"That is true."

As you spoke, you closed your eyes and sought to swallow your dread in order to think of a response that would soothe his concerns and encourage him to leave the church.

"However, we must remember that we are merely mortals and not some sort of transcendent being. We are only grains of dust in the universe, regardless of whether God exists or not."

He thoughtfully listens to what you suggest, never once opening his mouth to speak in response. His hold on your arms begins to loosen up a little. You even ponder whether he was actually paying attention to what you said, seeping every word into his heart.

"We must therefore lead morally upright lives, even without a God."

You finish your speech, fluttering your eyes open once again, drawing in a deep breath. The man on the other line hummed carefully, as if he was gradually allowing your words to sleep into his kind.

Finally he spoke.

"I see, Sister. Thank you so much for your philosophical guidance. I will keep that in mind."

His hands drew back to the other side of the panel as the hold he had on your arm entirely released. You grimaced as you raised your arms to your face and noticed that some of the warm blood that was oozing down your forearm had already dried up.

Despite having seen blood before, you have never enjoyed having to directly touch blood because it always made you feel soiled. As the sound of the chair grinding against the floorboards finally travels through your ears, a wave of relief floods through you.

He's leaving.

"Thank you for having taken the time to listen to my confession."

A mess of orange curls could just about be seen through the darkness as he stood up in the dimly lit room. Have you recently seen those curls somewhere else? Orange hair wasn't prevalent in the area, although his hair could potentially be blonde and just appear orange due to the lighting of the room.

That isn't plausible, though. Perhaps what transpired has left you feeling a little jittery.

"Ah before I leave," the young man paused and peered through the booth separating the two of you. You were relieved that the room was rather dark and that you had opted to wear a white veil while attending to the confession, maybe you should wear a veil everyday. His blue eyes stood out against the shadows; they were soulless eyes that mirrored a demon's existence in many dimensions

Perhaps he was a demon in disguise, lurking to take and savour every inch of your soul.

The mere thought induces a frigid shudder to travel down your spine, that's just absurd to think about.

"I'll be sure to return again, since I had a very fun time conversing with you. Be sure to be here on every Thursday, strictly at 10 pm."

You cowered in despair as you struggled to remove the blood off your forearm after he left the reconciliation room.

Why did he have to stain you like this?

As you scrub your skin with an emergency towel that is hidden beneath the desk, tears are on the verge of streaming down your face as you murmured a few words of blessings, trying to reaffirm your mental state.

No, perhaps you were correct. He could have genuinely been a ferocious devil masquerading as a person.

That would merely account for his lack of humanity.

[rheiple]

Gator Love

-Song Fic

-Part 1

DESCRIPTION: This is just a bunch of scenarios for the lyrics of the song.

READER'S PRONOUN: They/Them

PAIRING/s: Montgomery Gator x Reader

WARNINGS: Cussing

Tunnel of Love Remix

By ilyTOMMY

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.

.

.

Okay, like criss-cross applesauce, lil' baby, caress me

"Oh Monty, are you ok?" You whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

The gator only huffed in response, he didn't have the energy to tell you about it...Not that he would actually tell you anyway.

He didn't wanna make you worry about him being upset by just you talking to Freddy, it's childish and you might hate him for it.

And so, he only told you that he's tired and not wanting to talk about it.

"Ah, I see." You smiled, knowing that forcing him to talk about the problem of his would make it worse. 

You stand up on tippy toes to cupped his cheeks, gently stroking them to hopefully make him relax. "Do you... Want to cuddle it out?"

He looks away, not wanting you to see him blush... But he can't exactly control his tail wagging really fast, like a dog wagging it's tail excited to play... Just like how he's excited to cuddle with you.

You giggled, finding it cute that his is wagging at the mention of cuddles. You can't help but tease him, to which he grumbles in annoyance.

"I'm sorry big guy, I can't help it! You're being too cute!" You pinched both of his cheeks, making him grunt from the sudden attack.

He let out a low growl, a warning that if you do it again... Well, he wouldn't do anything bad to you, not that he'll tell you that though.

You snickered, not taking his warning seriously about stopped your teasing nonetheless. "Alright tough guy, I get it, let's go cuddle now, him?" You didn't really needed to wait answer anyways, you're already holding his hand and dragging him to his room.

Monty took one look at you and sighed. Man, he can't help but think of what he did to deserve an angel like you in this neon prison...

...Maybe the reason why he has an angel like you in his life is the fact that he hadn't killed Freddy..yet..

I been doin' all this shit, just hopin' that you impress me

When I level up, girl, I'll buy you diamonds and jet skis

You stared with wide eyes and mouth agape at the shiny item in front of you.

"So... What do you think?"  Monty asked, looking at your face to see how you react to his gift for you.

He doesn't show it, but the Gator is rather nervous that you hadn't said anything ever since he showed you your birthday present that he bought for you.

He worked so hard to steal earn money to buy you a gift, he even threatened  asked a few co-workers to show him one of the best jewelries to buy online.

You still went silent for a few minutes, until you look at him with a...A frown.

Oh.

So you don't like the gift?

Of course you don't! He should have known you're not a jewelry person, he feels stupid and disappointed on himself for not knowing that! He should have gotten you something useful instead! Or maybe you didn't like the color? Maybe?

Agh, those lying fuckers! He should have known they didn't actually showed him the most beautiful jewel! When he sees them next time he swears he'll-

"Monty! This necklace is amazing, really! But..." You look to the side, scratching the back of your neck, feeling really bad that he had to spend something so expensive for you. "The necklace, it looks really expensive and I..."

Oh.

OH!

He let out a sigh of relief. Holy shit, he thought you hated the gift, he's really glad that you didn't!

But he has a new mission, and that mission is to make you realize that you deserve whatever worthy this earth has to have. 

"Don't worry about that Doll, it's your birthday, yea? It's your special day today and I wanted to make you feel extra special." He reassured you, placing the gift on the palm of your hands, then closing it with his. "You're angelic ass deserves anything this world has to damn offer."

"You're saying that as if i'm a devine being!" You laugh, finding it funny how he sees you as an angelic being, you can't help but think about showing him what an actual angel looks like.

"There's the smile." Monty whispered to himself, admiring how beautiful you look when you laugh...

...You wouldn't mind if he took a picture of you, would you?

And your girlfriend, that might be the one that I'm texting

Roxy let out a loud growl, "I swear when I see that fucker, I'll beat his ass!" She yelled.

"Language, Roxy." Freddy reminded her, he didn't really need to ask her who she's talking about, for he already knows it's Monty. "The children might hear."

"He keeps sending me pictures of him and Y/n hanging out like they're on a date!" She raised her hands up in the air, clearly mad and jealous at the fact that he's able to hang out with you today while she's at Parts and Service.

Freddy and Roxy are currently in Parts and Service, some kid thought it'd be sooo funny to throw Roxanne a golf club reeeaall hard and is now stuck at her eye. Freddy got really concerned about Roxy and decided to accompany her at Parts and Service.

He raised a brow at Roxy, "You do know you can hang out with Y/n after you're fixed, right?"

She grumbled and replied with, "I know that! It's just the techs are taking too long to get down here! They're wasting my time!"

Freddy sighed. He hopes these two trouble making friends of his finally have the idea of sharing you and not cause a ruckus around them...again...

You my angel, girl, I think you come from above

Tonight is like one of those tiring days for Monty. Only wanting to recharge and go look for you  relax, to end his day of entertaining children.

He's walking back to his room, he went from Parts and Service cause of his right arm got damaged during one of his play fights with the little ones. He doesn't know how they did that, but that was surely impressive to him.

He stopped his tracks, he hears a faint sound of someone laughing. And then he realized, it was your laugh.

It sounds like you're coming to him because of how louder your laugh is becoming.

He looks around, trying to find you until he looks up and-

...Woah..

...Is it just him? Or do you look like an angel right now?

There you are, high up in the ceiling. Your laughs, sounding like sweet melodies to his ears.

He's in awe stuck right now, wanting to take of his glasses and take a good picture of you until he noticed him...

Oh...You're with the lanky freak... How irritating..Why the fuck is he glaring at him from behind you?

He was about to send him a scowl, until you called him to get his attention. "Hey Monty! How are you?! I hope you're doing well!" You wave your hand.

"...Uhh.." Was all he could say, could you blame him? You're just so fucking beautiful! He can't help but focus on your angelic ass!

But then he noticed that Rock headed jester, leaning his head beside your ear to whisper something. He unfortunately, couldn't hear what he's saying.

You began to move away, "Oh! Moonie needs to do his patrols with me now! Make sure you rest well and have a good night!" You yelled.

"Damn that bald bitch" he hissed quietly. Next time he sees him it's on sight...

...Oh well, at least he's got things to look at while he's resting.

My diamonds glisten, shinin' in the tunnel of love

And now we kissin', girl, I think your tongue is so fun

"Oh Monty! You saved me!" You yelled in joy, running at him to give him a big hug.

Before he returned your hug, he quickly kicked Moon's damaged head and opened his arms, inviting you to his embrace. "No problem doll, I'd do anything for you~" He may have said that in a flirty way, but he really does mean it when he said he'd do anything for you. May it be taking orders from you or committing crimes for you.

You leap into his arms, snuggling on his chest. You cooed on how brave he was for facing such a dangerous monster, but then you stopped and looked up at him.

"Y'know... You've done so much for me Monty.. I think I should give you a reward~" You said in a playful way.

He left his cheekcs warm up, you're not... asking him to kiss you, are you?

Oh no, the thought of kissing you got him warm he had to cool his body down. He smirks at you, trying to play it cool on the outside while going absolutely feral on the inside.

"I wouldn't mind getting any kind of reward from you Angelcakes." He purred.

You hummed, looking at the side and tried to think of a reward to give him right now and then looked back at him with bright eyes and a big grin. "How about a kiss?"

His eyes widen, his tail is wagging really wild from the question. Man, he can't believe that!

But he has to play it cool, he didn't wanna ruin this moment, or else it will be engraved on his mind forever.

"Sure Babes, I'd love that." He grinned.

"Well, you have lean down tough guy. You're too tall!" You stand up on your tippy toes, trying to reach him.

"Ah..Right.."  He leaned closer.

Surely, but slowly, he leaned closer, and closer, and closer...

...Until you two kis- "Hey Monty!" You barged in into his room, making him stop his daily daydreams.

He let out a loud shriek and fell of on his chair, he looks around and found you. He gave you a glare, "You scared me!" He yelled. He slowly got up and went into his chair. "Why are you here anyway?" He asked, not wanting to look at you because oh my god you out of all people interrupted him on his daydreams that involves with you.

You raised a brow, but still kept a smile on your face. "Didn't you tell you need me to come into your room to fix your leg?" You reminded him as you shook the toolbox you are holding.

"Oh.. that.."

Play Mac DeMarco, now we chillin' under the sun

"...How?" You asked, looking up at Sun with worry and...

Confusion..

Sun is... Having a hard time right now.

"He did it Starshine! He's such a big jerk!" He hissed, pointing at Monty with his free hand.

You look at Monty, who has a big fat grin on his face, probably feeling satisfied with his work. "Monty... Why did you tie Sunny up with Moonie's cable?..And also, how did you tie up Sunny with Moonie's cable?" You're surprised Sunny didn't drop kicked his ass or something.

"To teach him a lesson." He answered with a tone of smugness in it.

"...And what exactly did he do to make you 'teach him a lesson'?" You asked, crossing your arms and raising your brow.

"He just jealous that you and me spend more time together Starshine! He's being such a big, petty, BABY for tying my up to "teach me a lesson"!" Sun answered the question, still trying to untie himself free.

You sighed, you're not really surprised that they're not getting along, but you'd be lying if you said that you didn't find it annoying to deal with their bullshit sometimes.

You went up to Sun and helped him, "Monty, you should go back to your room. I'm going to head there to fix your curtain anyways, I'll catch up with you right after i'm done helping Sunny." You said, voice laced with tiredness to deal with anymore bullshit.

Monty felt a pang on his chest, he made you upset and he feels really guilty of it. So he did you what you told him to... But then he saw Sun giving him a middle finger, and he gave one back, stomping his way back to his room and wait for you there.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first time writing for Monty so I apologize if he's ooc in this Fic 🧍‍♂️ Monty ain't really my man (Y'all probably know that) but the song reminded me of him everytime I listen to it. And I think y'all would like the song too! And also, if there's any wrong grammar and misspellings please let me know,it would be a big help and i'll be sure to fix it quickly! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this!!

[llunarum]

A small wave of relief washes over her upon hearing the other's acceptance. Too many held it against the man for nothing more than a sharp glare given in their direction. He was only doing his job, one that just conflicted with other's desires.

And this visitor's desires were vague, all the easier for her. With no need to focus on any detail, or any person, her energy wouldn't be too badly exhausted. Another relief knowing that Minyades wouldn't too upset when her job was done.

❝A glimpse into the future and what awaits you... What I'll see is only snippets of sections that lie ahead, I apologize without much focus they'll be rather vague. If you have anything else you want me to see after to make up for it, do let me know.❞

Closing her eyes as she draws in a deep breath, gathering for a moment before picking the thread. Hazy images skipping through her mind like a slideshow. What an expansive life they must have lived so far... Hazy as it was there was beauty in it, a show of stars she had never seen before and probably never would again.

With the images growing in haze the thread is let go of. Reclining in her seat, eyes closed to avoid the dizziness that accompanied the blinding light after using her blessing- it was bad manners to get sick in front of guests.

❝You've met many people, experienced things no one else could ever claim to, what a wonderful life you must lead. To see such beauty and only have more lie in your future must be a blessing. You have such an expansive future that I'm afraid I couldn't see much the further it went on, but such is the way with beings like yourself. I would have told you if I knew, but it was my fault assuming you to be human.❞

An apologetic tone taking over her voice as hindsight kicks in. To assume someone's nature was a fault, but hopefully one that could be forgiven.

❝What I could see was, in truth, not too much different. Expansive beauty. Wandering, not lost but exploration. For the most part it seemed bright, yet there was one cold blockage. I couldn't tell you exactly what it was, but I assume it was due to another being. Unfortunately with how hazy and fast it all moved I couldn't give you a description, only that it was dark- almost like there was no soul to it.❞

"I .. I guess that's just some of the risks I take. It's fine really."

An abrasive familiar only seemed to make sense to Atieno. Didn't one want a being that would be so protective of the person he was around? They found his protectiveness very reasonable more than anything else.

"I really do believe you that it's not personal. Hm."

As they took a seat, Atieno wasn't sure what exactly to ask for but they found themself curious.

"I guess maybe it's not personal to me really, but it would be interesting to see what feels prescient, on the horizon - what are some images that come to mind?"