#just had so many thoughts about the four of them

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 7

AN: The long awaited part 7. Before anyone fears, no this isn't the end of the series don't you worry. I don't have many ideas for the next few parts, but I'm sure I'll think of something or one of you can help!

Also how do we feel about giving Reader a tail? /gen I have a few ideas I've been toying with with reader having a tail, but I don't want to cross the line between too self indulgent and reflecting of my character, rather than trying to be as inclusive as possible.

-> Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2

Warnings: Depictions of past trauma/ injury, past depictions of being turned into a Twisted/ seeing a loved one as a twisted/ recovering from being a Twisted, mentions of vomit, past depictions of losing a lost one, talk of scars (In a positive light, but just in case!)

☁ The first few nights were hard. So, so incredibly hard. Not by any fault of your own, oh absolutely not, but that didn't make the nights any less taxing or offer them anymore rest.

☁ There were a few times you offered tearfully to sleep in your old room so they could hopefully get some rest, each one shot down with a stern No'. The mere thought of having you out of their line of sight was more than their nerves could take, especially somewhere where they couldn't reach immediately? Hard Pass.

☁ The first night was by far the worst. Cosmo can't say he really remembers recovering from being a twisted, but there was one thing that stuck out for him during the entire process. And that was you. You were there the entire time, gently pressing cool cloths to his forehead, helping him sip water, even keeping saltine crackers on hand in case his temporarily fickle stomach decided that food was somewhat acceptable.

☁ You were the same with Astro and Sprout as well, ensuring the recovery, as awful as it was, was still as seamless as you could make it. If there was one thing he did remember about healing from being a twisted, is that he would never wish it upon another being. Much less you.

☁ The first night you're returned, you're rushed to med-bay as a flurry of commotion happens. Those left behind are eager to see if you've been returned, especially poor Toodles who took your turning hard. She's holding Blu when they rush past, tears in her large eyes, but Rodger is quick to turn her away.

��� Sprout is already barking orders with Ginger meeting them halfway, first aid kit in hand. They had given you minimal attention in the ride up, but they didn't have the time, space or resources necessary to give you proper medical attention.

☁ It's a flurry of action that follows right after. Astro stays up by your head, wiping the ichor that stained your mouth and clumped your fur. His cheeks are shiny as he does it, shaking his head every now and then before continuing his actions.

☁ Cosmo barely remembers all he did that night, there was so much that needed done. That wound you had received from-...From when you turned into a twisted had never closed, the excess ichor from being a twisted keeping you alive. It was an awful, horrid thought, but not one they could ignore as Cosmo hurriedly worked alongside his cousin to close it. Sprout busied himself with working on the claw marks across your face you had made in your confused state. Every bit he seemed to do made his grimace deepen. He wasn't sure what the other was seeing, but currently wasn't certain he wanted to know during this moment.

☁ Your teeth still remained sharp as you groaned in pain throughout the process, hands reaching back up to swat at the insistent burden yanking on your wounds, only for them to be caught by Shelly, who had followed to offer her help.

☁ She had felt awful about the entire situation, regardless if you would've done it either way. Vee as well, though she stayed further back to avoid getting in the way. Shelly's tougher skin made her more resistant to your claws and slashes, so she was a welcome helper, even if it made the working space a bit more cramped.

☁ Seeing you hurt like that was an awful feeling. Cosmo remembers feeling the bile burn at the back of his throat that night, increasing in every little noise or whimper of pain you made. Even when the worst was handled, he had to step back for a moment, hiding in Astro's chest as Sprout continued wiping away what was left. The same grimace was on his features, one much more intense than what was usually there when he was in doctor mode.

☁ He didn't speak more on it until far after Shelly had taken her leave with a tearful well wishes. Even then, the berry had only dragged a chair closer, hiding his face in his hands. Neither Astro nor himself knew where to go from there, and that just made them feel all the more worse as you seemed to fall into a fitful unconsciousness.

☁ Cosmo wasn't sure if it counted as sleep, honestly, not with how you still shook.

☁ "They have so many scars." Sprout finally spoke up, voice wavering before it cracked as he smoothed back his leaves, letting them fall back into place. "They hide them under their fur. How did-..." Sprout swallowed tightly at this before looking up at them with teary eyes. "How did we miss that?"

☁ Neither waited for a moment further before rounding around the medical bed to wrap their arms around the berry. He was tricky when it came to emotions, especially since this entire thing began, flickering between anger and denial like a coin, to see him break down like that was rare.

☁ "It's easy to miss." Cosmo nearly choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes as he flickered between watching your chest rise and fall to the floor. There was a crack in one of the tiles. You'd want that fixed, so no one tripped. He'd make not of it later. "Their fur covers it-"

☁ "Is that really an excuse?" Sprout cuts back in, his own eyes watching you in the same clinical way Cosmo found himself doing it. "For the others maybe. But us?"

☁ Cosmo couldn't find any rebuttal, swallowing tightly. He knows he himself has spent countless hours with his fingers running along your fur, playing with the stands and drawing shapes against the grain of it. He just never really focused on the skin beneath because he truthfully didn't think too. Looking back, maybe that was on him. He should've done better, done something more-

☁ "I don't think anyone's at fault." Astro's comment cut through the sudden silence. He had been dreadfully silent since getting back from the run so to hear him sound so exhausted was...jarring. He always had a sleepy, tired lilt to his voice, but to hear it like that made Cosmo's tail curl tighter against his back.

☁ Silence fell again before Astro was continuing. "I think, to a degree, it would be...more questionable if they didn't have any. They've been doing this far longer than you, me or even Cosmo's been in the picture. We can't stop them, but we can support them however possible as we have been." Astro swallows for a moment, using a star shard to bring a box of tissues closer. He takes one, wiping under his eye before setting it to the side. "They will always be like this. They'll be our self-sacrificing idiot who doesn't know when to stop, but that's why we fell in love with them. We can't change them and I hope none of us would try. Their scars are part of who they are. We-...I love every part of them, even the parts they may not love as much. Those parts we just have to love a little extra."

☁ The words stand, nearly tangible in the air for a long while. He's right. There are very few times when Astro isn't, but it's a jarring notion to understand what you truly went through. Even Cosmo himself hadn't known how long you and Poppy and Boxten had been doing it since he wasn't even the first returned. No, by the time he had been recovered, Finn, Shrimpo and Rodger had been well acquainted parts of the group and you had become comfortable in your role as a distractor.

☁ He wonders just how much of the burden you've carried silently with you. He's terrified of the answer you'd give if he asked.

☁ "I do...I do love them." Sprout choked, as if that was ever being brought into question. "I just- What if they hurt? What if every time we ask them to distract they're just a constant reminder of every past failure to them? They've done so much for all of us. Who are we to ask anything more?"

☁ "Like Astro said, it's who they are. I think if they truly didn't want to distract, they wouldn't. And I hope they would feel safe enough to come to us if the scars were causing them pain." The first tear falls down Cosmo's cheek, which is quickly wiped with a star shard covered in a tissue. "I mean, for heaven's sake, they turned into a twisted to save Vee on a run to save Shelly. If that's not the most selfless thing I've seen, I don't know what is."

☁ "Truthfully, I think I rather would've dealt with Vee's Twisted then theirs." Astro deadpans only to immediately flush a navy blue as Sprout cackles, Cosmo hiding his own laughs behind a hand. Astro practically swallows his tongue as he's quick to try and amend it with, "Not that I would wish that on any of us!"

☁ Sprout shakes his head as he finally leans back, his own cheeks shiny- which the star shard tries to wipe at only to get swatted at, making Astro pout. Both of Sprout's arms reach around to hook around both Cosmo and Astro as he takes a final deep breath. "We'll talk with them. Maybe now they'll see reason. Because yeah. I'm not dealing with that again."

☁ "They were so scary!" Cosmo whines, leaning on Sprout's shoulder. "But also-...Hear me out-"

☁ "Stoooop." Sprout groans, tipping his head back as Astro nods solemnly. "I'm hearing."

☁ Cosmo laughs at this before you're suddenly jumping up, cheeks puffed and they already know what that entails. Cosmo grabs the nearest trash can while Astro gently pulls back anything that could get in the way while Sprout makes for the nearest medication cabinet.

☁ Cosmo holds the trash can for you as you purge the excess ichor in your body, watching your heaves with a heartbroken glance while Astro rubs your back, even if he himself looks nauseous at the sight and sounds. He's quick to switch with Sprout when he returns, measuring out the stomach medication the berry had grabbed. It had aided the rest of them when it came to rejecting the ichor and they hoped it would with you too.

☁ In the very least, as awful as it was, it was a good sight to see as it meant you were recovering in the very least. Even if your heaves sounded painful and tears tracked down your cheeks. It would a pattern that would continue throughout the night unfortunately, which they would need to stay up to assist you with, but it was a chore they were more than happy to do. You had been the one to sit with each of them throughout the night, making sure they had all the comfort you could offer at the time.

☁ So even as the minutes ticked like hours, they knew it was all worth it. Every trip to empty the trash cash, every startled awakening at the sound of your gags, every wince as you pleaded for mercy. Anything to get you back.

☁ The following days are better. The next morning, right before it could be qualified as noon, you were cognizant enough to recognize where you were, eyes unfocused as you swayed, trying to sit up only for that to be one of the worst ideas you've ever had.

☁ The boyfriend on duty is quick to come to your side, with a hand on your back as soft whispers buzzed in your ear. You curled in on yourself, eyes scrunching shut before a deep breath had you finally stabilizing enough you could blink your eyes. Sprout was right there, offering you a gentle smile as he tried to figure out what exactly you were seeing.

☁ You practically threw yourself at him, pulling him close as tears burned your eyes. You cried into his scarf as his hands slowly curled back around you, squeezing you tightly to his chest as his own shoulders shook. "Oh. bud, I've missed you."

☁ "I'm sorry." You blab. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You cry, squeezing him tighter when it almost seems like he's going to pull away. You don't remember much about your time as a twisted except for spotting Sprout and smelling the ichor of a non-twisted toon being spilt. You prayed it wasn't you to cause that wound, that there was no wound at all, but subtly looking at his arm quickly dashes that hope.

☁ "No, no, bud you did nothing wrong." This time you allow him to pull away, only for his hands to cup your cheeks. "You're just as perfect as you always are." His green eyes shine with unshed tears, which quickly rectify that by trailing down his freckled cheeks. You sob at the sight, your own hands- with nails longer than you normally keep them- cupping his cheeks.

☁ Sprout crashed his lips against yours in a show of desperation, tears making the kiss taste salty as your shoulders fall in relief. IF he was okay, the others had to be okay, right? They had to be? You didn't hurt them too, did you? You prayed not.

☁ Pulling away, you angled his chin every which way, scanning his face as he gave you a few watery chuckles. "You're okay? All leaves, limbs and seeds?"

☁ Sprout caught your hands, pulling them down so he could look at you, nothing but sweet, adoring love in his eyes. "Leaves, limbs and seeds all attached." He coos, laying his forehead on yours as his shoulders heave with a long heavy sigh. "Oh, bud. You're okay."

☁ "You're not." You frown, feeling the tears threaten to burst out all over again. "I'm-"

☁ "It wasn't you." Sprout interrupts, making you blink. "No, a twisted flutter got me, but you? Even a twisted, you've proven you'll still protect us." His smile is sad, but relieved as you feel your stomach finally settle.

☁ You get a few moments more before the door is being slammed open, but not by another toon. No, it must've been ajar, because who else is waiting there but Blu herself, looking as grumpy as the day she accidentally fell into the snow in Bobette's shop, mewing in long, interrupted yowls as she trotted to the medical bed, jumping up and immediately crawling all over you.

☁ Sprout tried to grab her, but you waved him off, scooping up the baby and letting her place her paw on your cheek. You cooed at her, nuzzling your nose against her cold, wet one. She mewled once more before it delved into a purr, making you snicker. "I know, tell me all about how unfair your dads are."

☁ "Oi!" Sprout immediately called, looking only mildly offended before footsteps had you both looking over at the doorway once more. Cosmo was there, already panting as he leaned his head against the doorway. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, she was sleeping and then suddenly just took off and-" He looked up at that point, only for his mouth to gape open. He stilled for a second as Astro popped his head in, looking at the pastry. "Did you find-"

☁ He too was left slack-jawed before Cosmo was moving and he was following, both wrapping you in tight hugs and a flurry of kisses. It was comforting and perfect, and enough to make you forget about how awful your stomach felt.

☁ They were quick to fill you in on everything that had happened in your absence and, honestly? Hearing Astro talk about having his best friend back made your heart thrum and how happy he seemed, moreso now that he had everyone in his little family back at long last.

☁ While your side still hurt and your muscles still sung from the strain put on them. being wrapped between them felt safe. Safer than you've felt since the moment of pure terror that wracked your entire nervous system the second you knew only one of you would make it to the elevator.

☁ Still, you knew there was something on the horizon. A discussion that needed to be had and it made whatever was left in your gut churn and rot further than it already had.

☁ It didn't come until later that night when you were finally back in your room, eating something soft and easy to digest (My personal fav is oatmeal but I know now everyone can eat that so y'all get to choose <3), chatting with Cosmo when a knock at the door made you look up.

☁ Astro had popped his head in, scanning for your form before immediately relaxing when he spotted you. "Are you okay with a few visitors? Absolutely feel free to say no."

☁ You honestly hadn't expected anyone to visit you, really. Goob and Scraps had both had their own tearful reunions with you, Goob especially, and Poppy and Boxten had visited as well. You weren't overly close with anyone else, but while confused, you nodded.

☁ Astro scanned you for a second, as if to see if you were lying, but when he found nothing he stepped more fully inside. Sprout followed, immediately wounding to your side and pressing a peck to your lips. You smiled at him before looking back over, eyes widening at the two toons standing there.

☁ Shelly looked nervous, but waved even as her smile wavered, her tail giving a small, short little wag. Vee looked miserable if you were honest. You had never seen the main so...upset, making you frown. Was she upset with you? You know you probably shouldn't have pushed her, but you had no other option at the time!

☁ Astro took his own spot beside, across from where Sprout had moved to sit beside Cosmo.

☁ "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Shelly begins, tapping her fingers together before meeting your eye. "I wanted to thank you personally. And apologize. It was me you were retrieving and-"

☁ "And it wouldn't have happened if I had just picked up the pace." Vee cuts in. She makes it a point not to look at you, making you frown, fingers curling around your blanket. Vee let out a sigh, antennae giving a little spark as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm...So, so so-"

☁ "You have nothing to apologize for." You hold up a hand, scrunching your features. "I made my choice. You had nothing to do with what i decided. I promise. i never would've done something if it wasn't something I was sure about doing. There was never a moment I was upset with you, either of you." You're quick to reassure, sending them both a smile. Shelly returns it quickly, but Vee only gives you a glance and you frown.

☁ That was Sprout's best friend. You knew you didn't have to get along with everyone, but you wanted to get along with these two especially.

☁ Shelly seemed relieved at least, which made Astro relax at least a bit, but that wasn't enough for you. "I promise, Vee. If anything I owe you all an apology." You wilted a bit, even if Vee finally looked at you. "My twisted is...not the best, even I could admit that and I should've planned with the twisteds better rather than risk putting you guys in that situation. So for that, I apologize." You continue, continuing even if Vee looks like she's going to cut in. "It's happened, and it's fixed already. We can just blame whoever started the Ichor operation rather than try to keep playing this 'who can blame themself the most' game."

☁ Vee gapes and you smile at her softly, opening your arms. "Hug it out with me? Therefore all is forgiven and we can't blame ourselves anymore." The television looks at you, then at Shelly, then Sprout before her shoulders fall and she's slumping forward. You wrap your arms around her, feeling the chill of her metal plates. Looking over, you make eye contact with Shelly, who smiles sadly at the action. You open one of your arms and the fossil is immediately burrowing into the hug as well with her tail whapping about.

☁ When you separate, they take their leave not soon after, seemingly much lighter than when they came in. But then you're left with the other three. Astro's who's already sitting beside you, but the other two crawl onto the bed so you're all sitting in a circle of types.

☁ Your eyes dart from one to the next to the next before falling to where your knuckles are white around the blanket, having returned to clutching the fabric. You have to actively uncurl your fingers.

☁ You know there's probably tons to discuss, but you don't even know where to start.

☁ So Sprout does. He's never one to beat around the bush, especially looking back to before you all were together, and it's something you greatly admire about the berry.

☁ "We saw the scars." Is all he says, his own eyes remaining downcast as he plays with his scarf. You swallow, debating your options before breathing out, letting down the walls you normally kept up around everyone else.

☁ "Most of them are front the beginning." You admit. "I wasn't a good distractor then. I wasn't even really okay. I did it when we absolutely needed one. We had none of the trinkets we do now and didn't even think about them at the time. So I was an extractor and Cosmo knows that me extracting is like teaching a fish to fly." You spill immediately, thinking back to the lacerations that once marred your skin. "I'm sorry if they bothered you. I tried to keep them as covered up as possible. in case they...upset you all"

☁ "It's not the fact that their there, starlight. Well, I mean, that's kind of part of it, but...Why didn't you tell us?" Astro prods, laying a hand on you knee as another gentle rubs your shoulder. You bristle at the question, rolling your shoulders for a second before responding.

☁ "They aren't number one on my list of discussion topics. I'd rather forget about them personally." Simple as that.

☁ There's silence for a second before Cosmo is raising his hand, pointing to a white line that circles around his forearm. "This is from my time as a twisted. You'd remember best, but my hand was all sorts of messed up, right?"

☁ You nod at this and he points to his eye, with a matching line circling around it, so faint if he wasn't pulling attention to it, most wouldn't notice. "Half my face too, right?"

☁ You nod once more and he mimics the action. "Are you ashamed of my scars?"

☁ "No!" You're quick to bark, immediately ready to quell any worries he has, but Cosmo isn't done, pointing to Sprout- who blinks at the finger like it personally offended him. "What about Sprout? He has his own scars. You ashamed of those?"

☁ "No, Cosmo that's not-"

☁ "Then what about Astro? He's got his fair share too." The pastry points to one of the hands on your knees, which indeed had it's own smattering of scars from his time as a twisted.

☁ "No." You stare him down, gaze hard as he meets your own just as challenging. "Then why does that change for you?" You don't have an immediate answer, and Cosmo pounces on that. "What makes your scars different from ours? Why would we ever be ashamed of your scars, of your journey, when you would never dream of even thinking about that of ours?"

☁ You gape at him, trying to find some sort of defense, but you can't. He seems satisfied at that, but it's not for long as you're speaking once more.

☁ "Mine were self-inflicted." You avoid looking at them, even as your heart practically chokes you. "You never signed up to be a twisted. I willingly trained and worked to become a distractor. These come with the territory."

☁ There's silence for a second before Sprout is speaking once more. "Do they hurt?"

☁ You frown at the question, but shake your head. "No. They don't."

☁ Sprout exhales in relief at this before leaning back on his palms. "This isn't meant to make you feel any type of way about them, bud. They're yours and we understand better than most that scars can bring...complicated feelings. There's just...so many. We just want you to care a little more about yourself."

☁ "Seeing you in danger all the time is hard on his heart." Astro gently jokes, even if he gets a light kick in return for the jab. The celestial takes a breath before leaning on your shoulder, one of his hands reaching to hold your own. "We just want you safe, starlight, above all else. The bed's too big for three of us."

☁ You take a breath that quivered in your lungs before nodding slowly. You had expressed to Astro before how terrified you were of your own twisted and never wished to expose it to them, but did so anyway.

☁ You could only imagine the fear they were feeling the entire time, especially on the retrieval.

☁ "I'm sorry. Not for doing what I did, I don't regret and never will." You began, finally looking back up at them. "But I agree. I've been a bit careless. It's a distractor's job to keep the twisteds occupied, but not by being a dumbass. I don't want to give up distracting though." By the end you're practically pleading.

☁ "And we would never ask you too." Sprout gives you a soft smile. "Even if you stress me the fuck out, you enjoy it. Just...maybe keep the distance between you and the twisteds a bit bigger. And keep an escape route open whenever possible. And a bandage on hand. And a can of pop. And-"

☁ You laugh, wiping your tears as you shake your head. "I get it. I'm sorry I scared you all."

☁ "Just remind us to never piss you off." Cosmo shakes his head. "You're scary when angry. Although, watching you protect Sprout like that-"

☁ "We are not having this conversation again!" Sprout immediately shuts down, hitting the pastry in the face with a pillow, quickly getting a swift hit in retaliation. The two tussle for a second, making you give a wet laugh as Astro nuzzles into you. Your finger taps on the back of his hand, silently asking for an explanation.

☁ He hums in acknowledgement at the unasked question, moving to kiss your shoulder. "You're hot in all forms. Cosmo especially likes your protective side."

☁ This makes you bark out a laugh, calling the attention of the other two back to you.

☁ "What are you laughing at?" Sprout grinned, straddling Cosmo who was squirming under the hand on his forehead keeping him pinned down.

☁ "You're all such dorks." You snicker, grinning before holding your hands out to them. "Hugs?"

☁ You're only able to let out a yelp at Sprout turns instead pull you into his chest, the other two also wrapped in the absolute bear hug. It makes your heart thrum happily, especially when Blu manages to pop her head up in a crevice and mew her greetings happily.

☁ So even while the first few nights were hard, as you lay there, wrapped in the embrace of your boys and feeling their laughter once more, you know that tonight won't be nearly as so.

☁ And if absolutely nothing else, that was what made it all worth it.

AN: Guys, remember how I made that joke (It wasn't a joke) about hating that Rodger and taking it out on their Bobette? GUESS WHO'S NOW A MARKETABLE PLUSH >:) Huge huge huge shoutout to @belifbel

RAHH LOOK AT THEM

[breelandwalker]

Hi Bree.

I know your blog is really witchcraft stuff, but I saw the post you reblogged with the modern four Humorous joke and thought you might kinda understand what I'm talking about and I need to say this to someone or I'm going to explode.

So, I am interested in medicinal herbalism and things like home remedies, but instead of it being from the "oh, miracle plants that heal people because it helps *balance your soul*!" I'm specifically interested in the historical "this is how people used what they had" and scientific "many of these plants contain chemicals that can affect the body in different ways"....... which means watching some of these videos makes me want to strangle people.

(These are (sadly) all based on real videos I've actually seen, by the way)

"These herbs are ~cooling~ and will help you keep cool this summer. They affect the body on a cellular-"

[That's lavender and hibiscus. They are cooling you down because they are lowering your blood pressure, which is why people with things like POTS or just low blood pressure need to be careful not to drink too much.]

"If you don't like the idea of yucky chemical morphine try this inste-"

[Those are poppies. Those are poppy seeds. Thats... you just made shitty opium. Your solution to morphine is.... shitty low-grade unrefined morphine. Got it.]

"Try taking these herbs for a three month **parasite cleanse**. They were used in the ~**ancient times**~ but modern medicine has decided that they're not good enough-"

[That is tansy and FUCKING WORMWOOD- yes people used them for insects replant and parasites in the MIDDLE AGES but now we DON'T. Do you know why? No, its not because they're 'not good enough'. It's because they both contain a neruotoxin that will kill if taken to long (which is about a month, by the way) or at too high a dose. We don't use them because they are dangerous, and if you keep at this, you are going to kill someone.]

"Try these three plants to balance your-"

[Stop talking. Just. Stop.]

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely don't mind superstition or spirituality or anything like that. I'm a witch. I'd be stupid to disapprove of something like that when I do shit like that. But there are times when you need to leave the pointy hat by the door, and medicine is one of them. (Especially herbalism, because plants are unrefined and unpredictable and can absolutely kill or hurt people.)

OH MY VARIOUS GODS, I DIDN'T EXPECT TO BE THAT ACCURATE. 😂

I mean, the mentality behind the wellness movement is FIRMLY rooted in ableism, eugenics, and pseudoscience, but every so often it's brought home to me just how much of it is buzzwords and jargon that mean absolutely nothing.

Modern medicine is just potions that work reliably and wellness influencers need to STOP, it's fuckin embarrassing.

(Referring to this post - The Four Wellness Humors)

[staylovesmiley]

Thoughts on dating hyunlix and telling them you’re pregnant

Hmm I have thoughts alright hehehehe

Sweet sweet hyunlix~ first I think I should go into my thoughts on what dating them would be like since that’s half of this ask mhm mhm

Dating Hyunjin and Felix is like laying down on sheets fresh from the dryer after you just had an everything shower (iykyk) between Hyune’s heavily romantic soul and Felix’s sweet and bubbly one it’s like you are dating an old historical drama love interest and a rom com love interest in the best ways!

I feel like Hyunnie would be very classically romantic as he has stated so many times how much of a romantic he is- like flowers just because, intimate dinners with either you, Felix, or all three of you, leaves you love notes he tucked in your purse before he left in the morning where he knows you will find it when you go to grab an essential item like hand sanitizer or your lip balm. He’s just a silly little lovesick fool~

Lix on the other hand is much more playful I think? He’s very flirty but also a little clumsy with it~ I think he would send you tiktoks and memes in lieu of love notes, but you Lego flowers you could build together over real ones, and his ideal dates are either kicking each others asses in Mario kart or going for an activity like a movie or an arcade! Whereas Hyunjin is classic romance Felix is young and fresh love and they mix together into something wonderful that you feel you could never get tired of~

They also both clearly are physical touch as love language people so I feel like they would never get enough cuddles, kisses, or hugs from you! You would be surrounded by affection of all kinds always and you are completely okay with that (but if you need time for yourself they are respectful and will cling to each other until you are ready to join them again)

Now to the second part of the ask~~

If you were to find out you were pregnant with Hyunlix baby while you were just dating I feel like they would be excited but a little scared- Hyunjin especially I feel would be a little pale at the news at first because he’s such a pabo how is he supposed to raise a baby and teach it things about life?! He is excited and loves the idea of starting a little family with his loves but gosh it’s scary okay?? Even if it’s something you want it’s scary especially since it wasn’t necessarily planned (at least in this scenario that’s what I’m going with-) but once he voices his fears to you and Felix you both reassure him and he relaxes, feeling so nice to have two partners to help and feeling less alone (this drama king- as if he’s the one carrying the baby and giving birth to it istg)

Felix would cry. Hands fucking down. Every time he thinks about it for too long after telling him he tears up with the happiness brimming inside him~ I think he would feel a bit more prepared for a baby than Hyune, even if it’s just because he can be a lil optimistically clueless hehehe he would be daydreaming immediately what life will be like with the four of you (or more- and if he starts thinking about you having multiples that’s when he gets a little nervous but for this scenario there is only one baby so he calms down again after the scans show that)

I’ll leave this as is for now unlike the Minsung one cause I feel like Hyunlix wouldn’t really change much how the treat you during pregnancy than outside of it? They’d be more attentive to you and your needs but they were already so doting the only things that feel specifically “baby/pregnancy” related is maybe Hyune dedicating hours to painting the nursery the closer your due date gets and he is so into it you won’t see him for hours and hours while he is working on it~ and Lix would for sure give your baby bump little fist bumps and talk to it as much as possible so “baby had an aussie accent~” but hey let’s be real he already successfully gave our aussie boy hyunjin an accent so I feel like the baby would also develop one as it grew (especially with the constant Bluey episodes he would put on for them ever since the womb hehehe)

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

For writing requests, could you write something with Wind and an older sister reader?

Glycerine

Pairing: Wind & Reader

Warning(s): None, just some found-sibling fluff!

Notes: Inspired by "Glycerine" by Bush. This is actually a bit angsty so prepare yourself lol.

Masterlist

You found Wind on the beach, sitting on the pale sand as his outstretched legs toed the line between surf and sand. It was a beautiful afternoon on Onset; the sun was high, the sky was clear, and tears had no place on the young hero's salt-swept cheeks.

"Wind?" you called, toes scrunching when they met sun-warmed granules, your boots kicked casually onto the grassy bank meters away. "Buddy?"

There was a gasp. The Sailor's shoulders jumped. He whirled to face you, already rubbing beneath his sea-colored eyes with a fist. He said your name, once, and forced a smile that looked entirely too watery for comfort. "H-Hey... I thought you were teaching Aryll how to sew."

You shrugged, taking a seat beside him. A part of you wanted to cringe at the thought of all the sand you would undoubtedly find on yourself when this was over, but a larger, stronger part whispered that it was worth it. For him. "I was, but she's a quick learner, like someone else I know."

Another soft, uncharacteristic smile, nothing like the blinding grins he usually treated you with. The muscles in your jaw ached as they fought to keep a neutrally-friendly expression. "Yeah," said Wind, sneaking unusually pensive glances at the roaring ocean. "Wild's pretty sharp, huh?"

Your brow furrowed. You scooted an inch closer. "I meant you, kid."

This time, he looked at you. This time, he seemed to see you. "I'm sorry," he apologized. A habit, you assumed, though it was wholly unnecessary. Tone heavy with an emotion that had your heart twisting in your chest, he continued: "I've just been... thinking."

Oh dear, it was one of those days. You planted your hands behind you, using them as makeshift anchors to lean back a few inches. A thick, salty breeze swept through the beach, further ruffling Wind's nest of hair. You debated running back to the house to grab a brush, but refrained. "About?"

Silence. You didn't push, but you did watch. Red-rimmed eyes, fidgeting hands, suspicious stains on the sleeves of his tunic. In so many ways, Wind was a fully-fledged adult. He could fight, swear, and scream, but it was always the little things that reminded you just how young he was.

The hero chewed his lip, knees drawing up to his chest. Your eyes flicked to the pants he wore–a gaudy orange that you weren't sure had come from teenage rebellion or a treacherously misguided fashion sense–and immediately settled on a small rip near the right ankle.

"I know Legend's prickly, but he'll help you with those if you ask," you mused, almost to yourself. Wind immediately glanced at his pants, and a heavy breath slipped past his chapped lips. Too sad, too old; something was definitely wrong.

"Oh, wow, I hadn't..."

'Noticed it' went unsaid, so you decided to fill the silence.

"You're only going to miss her more if you stay out here," the words slipped off your tongue like silk, though they could have weighed more than a thousand sparkling suns. Maybe they did, and you were simply used to the reality where hard things were said without a second glance.

"She'll miss me if I go back," said the young, vibrant, effervescent hero in a tone that was so melancholic that you briefly considered calling Time over from the comfort of the home's sleeping area, but the memory of him downing no less than four bottles of Elixer Soup suggested the eldest hero had plans that didn't include comforting whichever boy decided today was the day for a long-awaited existential crisis.

You sighed. You closed the distance, wrapping your arm around Wind's shoulders. They were broader than you remembered, but you'd be damned if you let the fact that he was growing intercede with hug timeTM. It didn't take long for the Sailor to accept his fate, shoulders finally dropping as he exhaled a breath typically observed in divorced men in their forties. You'd have to tell Warriors that one. "It's hylian nature to miss someone," you said; gently, not because he was a child, but because he needed it. "It means she cares. Means you care."

"Does it?" was Wind's response, and you couldn't help the snort that escaped you.

"Of course it does," you paused to let the meaning sink in, then added with a conspiratorial grin: "Didn't anyone tell you not to question your elders?"

Wind's ears perked up, but you couldn't find it in you to regret giving him an in. "Yeesh, I didn't know you were that old."

"Rude, I'm actually like, super young," you huffed, injecting as much faux irritation into your tone to hide the fact that you were secretly rejoicing the spectacular return of his borrowed dad jokes, because, really, one could only spend so much time around Warriors and Time before they too found themselves corrupted. You shifted in the sand, gaze turning to the sun, hovering above the horizon like a firebrand, and a small part of you was glad Twilight was currently consumed with that tile game Four played almost religiously. "It's getting late," you told the Sailor. Softly. Kindly.

Wind's toes curled in the waterlogged granules. A foaming wave washed forward, crashing against the boy's pruning skin. His response was a mere whisper above the roaring surf. "She cried when I left," a sandy-colored head leaned against your arm, soft enough that you could have pretended it wasn't there at all.

"Everyone cries, Link," you reassured him, though the results had yet to be seen. "It's what makes us hylian."

Silence.

You heaved a breath.

"Give your sister a hug, kid."

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, and The Hero of the Winds began to cry in earnest.

"How is he?"

You were torn from your thoughts at the sound of Warriors' voice, glancing up at the Captain, who looked just as tired as you felt. His armor was nowhere in sight, leaving him in an off-white button-up and a pair of tan trousers.

A sigh forced itself from your lips, and you finally spared a glance at the sleeping boy on the mat next to you, one of your arms caged in his tight embrace while the other rested on your stomach. It had taken some convincing--and a hell of a lot of luck--to get the youngest hero into bed, and you hadn't the heart to tug yourself away when he latched onto you, face buried in the soft flesh of your bicep.

"Better," was your response, the ghost of a yawn tugging at the heels of your words. "If you couldn't tell, he's had a rough day."

The floor creaked as Warriors got comfortable beside you, keeping a respectful distance as he settled on one arm, gazing down at the both of you. "I'll say," he murmured, quiet enough that you hardly heard it. A pause, then: "You should rest."

This time, you didn't bother stifling your yawn, uncaring of how it might negatively affect your case. "Someone's gotta keep watch, Wars."

The Captain was unimpressed, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow in obvious disagreement. You were almost jealous. "Yes, me. You're going to have just as rough a day as the Sailor if you don't sleep."

You rolled your eyes, hoping to draw things out as much as possible. You didn't want to leave Wind alone, you couldn't. "Pshh, who needs sleep?"

The floor groaned just as Warriors opened his mouth to offer what you assumed to be a spectacularly-planned rebuttal, only to let it click shut when Time's rumbling baritone filled the small room. Fuck. "What's this about sleep?"

Warriors cerulean eyes found yours, and it was a battle unto itself not to hiss at the smug glint that filled them. He nudged your shoulder, and you went ramrod straight, praying it wasn't enough to disturb Wind. "Just trying to convince a certain someone that insomnia isn't the answer."

That jerk!

"Is that so?" You could practically feel Time's gaze on you. Piercing, all-knowing; like a fucking owl. The floor groaned once more, and you turned your head to watch Time settle on your other side, directly behind Wind. Between him and Warriors, this was turning into a very unnecessary hylian sandwich. "The Captain is correct," said the eldest hero in a tone that sounded like he was laying down a law rather than talking about something as mundane as needing sleep. "Rest. We'll take turns."

"After you drank all that sleepy-time soup? I think not," you shot back, feeling a bit braver than usual. Maybe it was the night, or maybe it was because some twisted part of you wanted to be the only one to protect the youngest hero. "You two need it more than me. It's hard being old."

The Captain sputtered in quiet disbelief. Legend would be proud. "You think I'm old?"

"Actually, the word I meant was 'ancient'–"

"You're so lucky the Sailor's here."

"What're you going to do, lecture me to death–?"

"Quiet, you two," Time interjected, sounding every bit the old man that he was. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, allowing yourself to fall silent for Wind's sake. Warriors made a huffing sound, but also quieted, shuffling to lean against one of the beams protruding from the wall. "There's no reason for all of us to stay up," ugh, that's why you were doing it for them! The Hero of Time said your name like an errant child, followed by a very punctuated: "Go to sleep."

There was no fighting with Time, you knew. He would win, and you would still be on your back next to the youngest hero whether you wanted it or not. Fucking heroes, always trying to look out for others before themselves, and Hylia knew the boys practically drooled at the prospect.

With a drawn-out sigh that rivaled Wind's in supposed age, you let your head fall against the woven mat, a springy thing that would have coaxed you to sleep hours ago had it not been for the boy clinging to your arm. "Fine," you relented, a mere breath in the inky, candle-shadowed expanse of the room. Eyes shut, but not asleep, you mumbled: "Night, Wars, Time."

Warriors' arm stretched over your stomach, his hand reaching to pat down the hem of Wind's shirt as it stretched up, revealing pearly flashes of the Sailor's skin, warm with sleep and rising with steady breaths, not unlike the gentle rocking of a ship upon the Great Sea's waters. Even after the youngest hero's modesty had once again been preserved, the Captain didn't move his arm, and you suspect its purpose was as much to keep you in place as it was to correct a potential wardrobe malfunction. "You're a jerk," you mumbled in half-hearted exasperation.

The Hero of Warriors' chuckle was loud in your ear. "Takes one to know one."

"Children," said Time from the other end of the sandwich, and you rightfully shut up. Fuck him, you could wield a sword as well as any of the others, which meant you were basically an adult by those criteria alone. Plus, you were dashingly attractive and that had to count for something!

Whatever, dad, you thought with an imaginary eye roll, because the eldest hero practically had eyes on the back of his head. He would know, and you were in no mood for another lecture after the one you received for aiding Wild in his quest to ride animals that were most certainly not meant to be ridden.

Sleep never came easy when you were worried, but something was different. While Warriors wasn't mashing himself to your side like Wind seemed intent of doing, the Captain was no less warm, and it was a battle not to hum when an errant insect brought him scooting closer, the heat from his chest soaking into your other arm. It was becoming increasingly obvious: you were trapped by these lovable dorks, and when Time's miraculously un-armored arm swung over to plant across the three of you, the deal was all but sealed.

Darkness blackened the corners of your vision, and the last thing you saw was Wind's sleep-soaked grin uptick in the candlelight.

Someone was calling your name.

You cracked your weary eyes open, ears straining to catch the ghostly mumble of your name; a strange, simultaneously booming and whispered call that seemed to ring in the very recesses of your eardrums. A soft groan left your mouth, only for something to slap down on your face.

"Shh, shh, they'll wake up!"

...Huh??

There was something– nay, someone above you. Someone with stormy blue eyes, wavy blonde hair, and–

"Wind?"

Wind grinned at the sound of his name, his teeth glimmering porcelain in the faint candlelight. His hands returned to your shoulders, shaking softly, and you realized you were still in bed, surrounded by the limp, sound-asleep frames of Time and Warriors, the latter of whose arm was still slung tightly around your stomach. "That's me," he whispered, nearly vibrating with excitement. Ominous, but you were here for it. And, as if the Goddesses themselves had heard your plea for answers that weren't complete horseshit, he continued: "I thought of a new game to play! But I need to test it out first."

Ah, right. If anyone liked games, it was Wind, and you were his all-too-gullible partner-in-crime. Only, these types of exchanges usually occurred at respectful hours of the morning or afternoon, prompting another, less exhausted groan from your mouth. "Can't this wait until morning, bud?"

The Sailor paused to consider the conundrum. "I just..." fuck, he was bringing out the wet baby seal eyes. Little bastard knew you didn't stand a chance. "I don't want to forget it..."

As predicted, your resolve crumbled in the face of his patented sad animal eyes. "Okay, okay," you relented, sitting up on your elbows, keeping your tone especially low to keep the adults trapped in their slumber. "But you have to help me get past Wars, yeah?"

"Duh," was his response, and you had no choice but to crack an equally conspiratorial grin as the Sailor helped you lift Warriors' arm up. He held it as you slid free, snagging a stack of blankets from the corner as a decoy.

Until the Captain grunted, expression scrunching as he registered the change in warmth, and your soul nearly burst out of your chest. Gently, shoving Wind to the side, you bent down to whisper in the Captain's ear in your best barmaid sexy voice: "I'll be just a moment, sugar, then we can continue where we left off ;)"

Another grumble left Warriors mouth, but it was significantly softer, and punctuated by a smacking noise as he attempted to kiss the blanket pile, which would have made for spectacular blackmail, if you were being honest. Where was Wild's Shiekah Slate when you needed it?! With the Captain distracted, you slipped around him, linked arms with Wind, and skipped into the pseudo-darkness like the troublemakers you were.

Once outside, you turned to the Sailor. "So! What's up, buttercup?"

"Well..." and thus began Wind's explanation of his latest 'game', which honestly sounded more like an excuse to run around on the beach than something with actual rules, but, once again, you were here for it. Until he got to the part about rolling in the waves in the dark. Especially when he got to the part about rolling in the waves in the dark.

When he was done, you placed your hands on your hips and grinned like the responsible older sibling you totally were. "That sounds super unsafe, so it'll totally be fun!"

Wind's mirroring grin could have outshone the sun, which was especially helpful considering it was nearly pitch black outside. "Right?! I bet we can get Wild to play today, too!"

"Wait, don't you mean tomorrow?"

"Huh? It's totally today; you were asleep for a while."

"...Wind, were you watching me sleep?"

"What? No! That was Time," the Sailor jammed his thumb into his chest, not passing up an opportunity to throw shade on his brothers. "I have manners."

You raised your hands in faux distress. "Ah, my mistake, good sir! My deepest apologies."

"You should be!" There was a roar, and Wind's head instantly whipped to the foaming surf. "Okay, let's go play before Time and Warriors wake up."

"I'd love nothing more," you patted his shoulder, subsequently raising your palm to meet his in a high-five that rang through the beach like a particularly juice ass slap. Not that you knew what one of those sounded like, per se, but with Legend and Warriors' playful rivalry still going strong, you didn't need to.

"Last one to the waves is a crab!" Wind yelled, dashing towards the waves, with you hot on his heels as an answering whoop tore from your throat.

The game without rhyme or rhythm carried well into the night, until the early morning light bathed the crashing ocean and footstep-marred sand, kicked up from hours of play. Your legs ached from running, and you were sure even Sky could have overtaken you in a race at this point, but it didn't matter. You were free, and you were having fun.

"Can't catch me!" Wind screamed in delight when you tried to tag him, dancing just out of reach like the agile little shit that he was, but you had been preparing for this moment your entire life, using the last of your energy to perform a sort of lunging dive, catching him in the stomach and sending the both of you rolling into the shallow waves, coughing and sputtering as you fought to catch your breath, soaked from head-to-toe and damn proud of it.

"You were saying, you slippery munchkin?!" you giggled, nose throat sore from all the saltwater inhaled over the course of the night. The Sailor sorted, reaching into the shallows and flicking a clump of seaweed at your face. You shrieked and dodged spectacularly, but he was ready with another, larger wad that managed to smack against your cheek, effectively sending you into another half-sputter, half-laughing fit as gallons of saltwater soaked the thick fabric of your tunic and trousers.

"Eat weed, loser!"

"Never!"

Your hand sunk into the sand and, before you knew it, a large clump of it was flung in Wind's direction, catching him in the blue-clothed chest.

Wind gasped.

"Oh, it's ON."

The following ten minutes devolved into what could only be described as a sand-ball fight to the death. Sand was thrown, dignity was abandoned, and you were absolutely positive you would be picking granules out of your holes and hair for the next month, but the sound of his laughter was worth every single grain.

It was only when the front door to the house slammed open and a near-frantic Warriors stumbled outside did you pause, sand pouring from your half-cocked hand. "WHERE–" the Captain caught sight of the two of you, covered in dirt and grinning like the maniacs you were, and simultaneously looked like ten years of his life had been spontaneously snatched away. Rumor has it his groan could be heard on the next island over. "–oh, you've got to be kidding me..."

"I'm a crab!" You called over the waves, eager for yet another opportunity to screw with him.

"Actually, you're a–" Warriors paused, placing his hands together like he was about to pray that your stupidity didn't infect him, too. His mouth moved with exhausted desperation: "Calm, Link, calm."

You and Wind exchanged a glance, but it was quickly broken when Time's silhouette filled the doorway, face curiously blank as he surveyed the scene over the defeated captain's shoulder.

A beat passed.

Time turned on his heel. Time went back inside, steps heralded by Warriors' betrayed whimper. You and Wind high-fived.

It wasn't always easy staying positive when it came to life, but with them, you were willing to try.

Whew! That was a long one! I was super inspired for this, and I hope y'all enjoyed!!

A 'lil extra for y'all:

"Time to get back to bed... sugar," Warriors visibly cringed at your appointed nickname, arms crossed over his chest, and Time looked a hairs-breadth away from smacking his palm to his forehead in exasperation.

You and Wind exchanged a glance that spoke a thousand words. Ignoring the vexed shouts from the older heroes, the Sailor jumped on your back and the two of you sped off into the sunrise, whooping like the madlads you were.

[danielcain]

No Quadrupeds Left

It was not out of the ordinary for children to possess both a pathological fear and an insatiable obsession with the four-legged Beasts of the past. The pre-Vanishing ecosystem was seldom spoken of, and only in hushed tones.

Sometimes, if an older relative grew drunk enough to feel absolved for any improper remarks, a certain sense of dark humor kept the topic tolerable, and children would ask questions about the Beasts. It was rare enough an occurrence, normally suited to post-festival gatherings. One drunkard, oft battle-scarred, slurring a diatribe about trading Beasthide as little cousins sit attentive, hugging grass-stained knees to their enraptured hearts.

‘Uncle, what of the Beasts that didn’t vanish, those who were already meat or leather?’

‘Yes, yes! Did we bury them? Did we give them rites? What sort of rites befit a Beast?’

‘Children, children, your dear old uncle has had too much wine and fermented fish. I shall answer in the morning, I shall regale it to thee you plainly, as my grandfather regaled it to me.’

Of course, when the morningdove crowed, the family’s children would find rolled-up cots and the sound of grownfolk arguing over missing silverware, no sobered-up old soldier in sight.

Reader, Next time you find yourself in the Crescent, go to a tavern. A nice one, don’t get yourself slashed. The kind full of young grownfolk, 20 winters or older. As them about ‘the Vanishing Uncle’. It has become somewhat of an archetype to the natives, much like the linen-silk trickster of the East, or the bruin-hugging Gaul. Do take care who you say this to, some don’t admire the bravado.

We all knew him, or knew someone who knew him. Everyone had a story of irresponsibility and embellishment. When speaking of this sort of man, we would preface: “Now, these are the thoughts of a distant uncle, not I…” In some villages, this is still so. In some villages, gossip on the matter is acceptable, but anything more is offensive.

For brevity: It wasn’t discussed. A rule, an unspoken rule akin to covering your loins and boeing your when a woman or widuu enters the baths — if you were raised correctly, you never had to be told outright. Adults were never to discuss the specifics of the Vanishing around children.

Especially not Adel and Utor.

As a boy, Adel was fascinated by the Beasts of the past. From hulking grey brutes with coarse skin and horned faces to the cherubic mutants ancient men kept as soft-furred companions, every child had a favorite. Children often had encyclopedic knowledge that would soon wear off as they lose interest and enter middle childhood. At 6 and a half, Adel was no different. His favorite vanished beast was the Dog.

Adel's best friend, Utor, favored the common Horse. Utor was a sensitive child. He played nicely with boys and girls, yet preferred to play alone. Usually polite, he had an occasional defiance streak, and a strong sense of justice. Regarded, perhaps prematurely, as a precocious sign or intelligence or virtue, this judiciousness was encouraged by the village tutors. Utor was the only child who played with Adel. The two engaged in imagination-play, crawling around on all fours, imitating sounds that could have been. What it must have been like to be them, to see them, the four-legged Beasts of yore.

They spoke of many things, but the Vanished Beasts sparked many conversations. Arguments, too. Utor’s parents and Adel’s mother never had to intervene, not until one day in Springtime.

While weaving crowns of daisies in the field, just ever so slightly out of the watchful eye of his overworked mother, Adel stole Utor's ring of daisies and crowned his own head with a triumphant display of listless bluffing.

Utor was upset, but he centered himself. He refused ‘caste-sink to the aggressor’ as his militant uncle would put it. The thought of this own mercy emboldened him. He reached out to swipe the crown off his thieving friend.

To Utor’s shock Adel slapped his hand away. Far harder than a friend had ever slapped him prior. The kind of slap reserved for the lowest of disciplining. Utor clutched his aching hand, dewdrops of tears welling up in his eyes. Silence became tensions as they watched the wheels in each other’s expressions start to turn. Utor thought carefully, as carefully as he could think with a stinging hand.

"I see why you like the Dog. It was the most meanest four-leg of them all."

It was the first insult he could think of. A cogent retort, or so he thought. Adel was being cruel. Adel loved the Dog. Utor only liked the daisy chain, but Adel hurt him physically. In young Utor’s mind, this exchange of blows was Hammurabian. Surely, they would resume playing.

To his surprise, Adel retorted instantaneously.

“The Horse carried meaner men than any Dog.“ Though it was mumbled with unmet eyes, its tone was as if Adel had been waiting say this all year.

A new, foreign kind of humiliation thrummed in Utor’s chest. His fair-skinned face burned ruddy. It chemical-burned from rejection into rage. It burned so much, made so much pressure in his skull, he was screaming like screaming kettle he said, “when hungry, the Dog would eat…. raw….”

Utor’s shaking voice snagged on taboo, yet still, he elaborated.

“The raw pulp of their own. Of fellow Dogs.”

Adel was never an expressive child. (He had not even cried at birth, even as the midwife chanted a hearty mantra, unsheathed her stiletto to sever the umbilical cord round his neck.)

"Dogs ate their masters."

"That's not true."

"Dogs ate their masters even when they weren't hungry. Dogs bit-“

Utor’s vision eclipsed into sudden darkness as Adel’s left-hook struck him. A slap, why- every child has been slapped. That was life in the Crescent. This was not a slap, this was a balled-fist strike.

Utor stayed in a heap on the ground, even as the teal-green sky phased back into sight above him, quick tears quickening the kohl to run from his eyelids to his snot-dripping chin. Finally, he manages:

“You hit me. You HIT me! I’m telling your mother! I’m telling hyr!”

No response. Just heavy breathing from Adel, looming above him with an uncharacteristic scowl. The whimpers continued.

“You’re no worse, no worse at all, than a vanished Dog,” he cried.

Adel’s mother heard the exaggerated wail of Utor from nearly sixty strides away. Hy wished it to be a playful holler, waited a pinch. Alas, another scream. More anxious than agitated, hy gathered up the hem of hyr silks and headed for the field. What a horrid child, hy thought fondly, just like his father.

Year ago, when the midwife cut the noose around his neck, Adel drew his first breath as a sort of trade.

He began to cry. And cry, and cry. His mother bled, and bled, and bled until she passed, became his foremother. His father cried too. His father, he-now-hy, cried so hard, that the soul of the foremother passed into the gouge in hyr heart. That must have been why, the villagers thought, that Adel’s father became Adel’s widuu mother so willingly. This was what the villagers gossiped, anyway, and continue to do so.

[skyward-floored]

IAU Sky and and Sun spending time with any of their kids?

Here’s them spending time with all their kids! Featuring an activity I thought Aryll especially would enjoy. Took me a while to come up with something haha, I’m out of practice writing fluff 😅

Aryll is about 5-6 here, the triplets are somewhere in the 1-2 range :)

————————————————————

Sky rifled around in the pantry, looking for the jar of peanut butter that he’d thought was in here. No matter how many cans and jars he moved around though, he saw no sign of it. Maybe Sun had put it somewhere else? He thought for sure she’d said it was here, though.

Sky huffed and pushed over a can of dried hylian tomatoes, then exclaimed in triumph. The peanut butter had been wedged behind it at the perfect angle where he couldn’t see.

He pulled it out and stood, striding back to the table where he’d been before, and Aryll watched him in interest, sneezing suddenly into her lap.

“Bless you,” Sky said sympathetically, and his daughter sniffled.

“Why did you get the peanut butter out?” she asked, and Sky smiled.

“Don’t you remember, pumpkin? We’re going to make bird feeders. This goes on the pinecones.”

“Peanut butter on pinecones? For real?” Aryll exclaimed, and Sky chuckled, putting the jar in front of her.

“For real. That’s to help the seeds stick,” he explained as he grabbed several butter knives to eventually spread it.

“And the birds will love it!” Aryll said excitedly, and Sky smiled.

“Uh-huh. But we have to wait until Mommy and the boys come back with the pinecones.”

“I could’ve gotten pinecones,” Aryll pouted, and Sky patted her on the head when she set her elbows on the table.

“I know, but until those sniffles go away we don’t want you spending time out in the cold unless you have to,” Sky said, then turned as he heard the door click. “And it sounds like they’re back now anyway.”

“Daddy!!” a voice yelled. Footsteps pounded across the floor, and Crimson scrambled into the kitchen with his cheeks pink with cold and melting snow coating his boots. “Pinecone!”

“Well look at that, very nice!” Sky said with a smile, taking the two pinecones that Crimson waved at him and setting them on the table. “These look like great ones. Now let’s get your stuff off before you get snow everywhere, kiddo. What did you do with your mom and brothers?”

Crimson rapidly babbled something in toddler language that Sky only half-understood, but he nodded along anyway, picking out something about coats and snow and pinecones. He could hear other voices by the door, and hoped it was Sun taking off boots so there wouldn’t be more melting snow on the floor. They would already need a towel so nobody would slip.

By the time he finished peeling off all of Crimson’s layers, Sun had walked in, bootless, with their other two sons following behind her in their socks as well. All of their faces were flushed from the cold, and Sky saw Sun shiver as she pulled her scarf off.

“We got a pinecones!” Azure said triumphantly, his arms full of the prickly seed carriers. He ran forward and tossed his whole load on the table, making Aryll yelp, and Sun give him a look.

“Hey, no throwing in the kitchen, Azy,” she reminded, and he climbed up on a chair, legs wiggling as he proudly looked over his pinecones.

“I see you all were successful,” Sky directed towards his wife, and Sun grinned, eyes bright. Her hair poked out from her hat, a few snowflakes melting on her lashes, and Sky couldn’t help joining her side and pressing a kiss to cold lips.

“We sure were. Found plenty of pinecones,” Sun said after she returned the gesture, nestling up to his warmth with a shiver. “And we only had one emergency involving mittens.”

“Very nice,” Sky congratulated, giving her a quick embrace before pulling back, though he kept a wing around her. “Are we ready to have four kids all covered in peanut butter?”

“Butter!” Sage said excitedly, holding a pinecone tight to his chest.

“Not just butter! Peanut butter!” Aryll said indignantly, sniffling when her nose tried to drip. “And seeds so the birds have food for the winter.”

“Exactly,” Sun nodded, and scooped up Sage as she sat down, their smallest son nestling into her lap. “Now who’s got the peanut butter?”

“Here!” Aryll chirped, holding up the jar above her head in a triumphant pose.

“Great, let’s get to work then,” Sky said as he took a knife, but Aryll suddenly gasped, setting down the jar and waving her hands.

“Wait wait! I forgot!” she yelped, and scrambled out of her seat and out of the room. Sky raised an eyebrow, but he shrugged and began spreading peanut butter, knowing he had quite a few pinecones to get through.

Aryll came rushing back in in a few minutes, and Sky sighed at the tiny bird sitting primly on her shoulder.

“Honey, we’ve talked about bringing birds inside,” Sun reminded, and Aryll drooped, giving her parents sad eyes.

“But Dee is good! He never makes a mess or is too noisy or scares anyone!” she begged, the chickadee letting out an innocent chirp. “And I want him to help!”

“Well... he will be eating these when we’re done,” Sky said consideringly, and Sun raised an eyebrow. “Maybe just this once?”

“I suppose so,” Sun gave in with a sigh, and Aryll cheered, Dee trilling with her.

Aryll sat back down, her bird friend watching the proceedings in interest. Sky popped a mouthful of birdseed, crunching on it as he handed Azure a pinecone he’d finished peanut buttering, and Aryll grabbed her own knife and got to work along with Sun. The triplets were all too small to really spread peanut butter. Sage was trying anyway though, and Sun did her best to steer him.

True to Sky’s earlier comment, all four kids were at least partially covered in peanut butter by the time they were finished spreading it over the pinecones. The table was also coated in birdseed, and Crimson had accidentally destroyed a pinecone at one point, sending little woody bits all over the room. Aryll’s chickadee was eating some of the seeds on the floor, Sky had peanut butter in his wings, and despite the fact that he knew the mess was going to take ages to clean, he barely cared.

It was moments like these he treasured the most.

All of his kids finally finished their pinecones, Aryll using every single one she could get her hands on. She was determined to make sure the birds had food while it was snowy outside. Sun grabbed some colored string that they tied around the cones to use as hangers, and then it was time to hang them.

They placed most of them where you could see them from the living room, a short tree with lower branches the perfect height for the feeders. Then Sky placed a few in random spots in their backyard, and a couple outside Aryll’s room, ones she could see from her window. Aryll then insisted on the biggest one she made being hung in the tree outside Sun and Sky’s window, and she squealed happily as a tiny nuthatch flew up only moments after he finished hanging them all.

“Looks like they work,” Sky said as they all watched birds slowly gather, happily pecking seeds off the pinecones.

“Birs,” Azure said thoughtfully, then squealed as two cardinals zipped by, red standing out sharply against the snow.

“Look, there’s Beep! Say hi to Beep!” Aryll yelled in excitement as a little sparrow began pecking at the seeds, and her brothers began wildly waving their arms, which made the bird fly off. “Oh, guess he wasn’t hungry after all.”

Sky chuckled from his place on the bed, Sun flopped next to him as they watched their kids all gathered at the window. He couldn’t help the yawn he let out, and Sun nestled up beside him, head resting on his chest.

“They’re certainly a handful,” she commented with a smile, Crimson yelping as Sage tried to climb on him in order to see better.

“Yeah. But they’re our handfuls,” Sky replied, and Sun chuckled, closing her eyes.

Sky did the same with a soft sigh, and they both listened to their kids excitedly watch the birds, the smell of peanut butter in the air as a deep sense of peacefulness settled over Sky.

...At least until all four of his children decided to jump on him.

[physalian]

Hi just had a question as an aspiring author. How do you stay motivated to write even if you don’t get many sales? I would never stop writing but I would probably lose my ability to complete books if I thought no one would read them.

It was definitely tough after my debut novel released after 7 months of effort and two different influencer scams cost me my entire author Instagram account, and a frustrating experience on TikTok. I’d been putting all my effort onto this platform for marketing and building an audience because Tumblr doesn’t require graphics and videos that I hate making. And, it doesn’t have an algorithm, if you have a following, it’s because you worked hard for one, as opposed to chasing clout, for the most part.

But having as many lurkers as I do (hi everyone) and realizing that a) the advice I give for free isn’t as appreciated as I thought it was and b) 1000+ followers doesn’t mean a damn because 90% of my sales were family and family friends (not my friends tho, my friends don’t read or care about what I’m working on)… it was hard. I got pretty cynical. I didn’t ever give up on writing, but I did almost give up on telling people about it.

I’m not good at nagging people to keep to their commitments and if somebody tells me they’re going to do something… let’s just say I’ve grown up learning not quickly enough that “Yeah sure absolutely!” is a polite way of saying “I’m not going to ever do this but I’m not going to tell you that” if doing the thing doesn’t happen immediately.

I did, however, stop writing my fanfics, which don’t give me monetary profit, but they do (or did) give me engagement, and I wasn’t getting that, so I stopped caring and it stopped being fun.

As for my writing, after 9 years of doing it quietly for myself, it wasn’t that hard to get back into the “write for yourself” mindset, but it was hard not doing so through a cynical lens.

And I’m still there, ngl. My debut novel is the first of four in a series, and if nobody read the first one, it’ll be impossible to get anyone to read the second one if doing so requires 111k words of homework. Traditionally published authors face diminishing returns just like this.

But I’m still writing, because I want to know how the story ends, and if I’m doing so somewhat out of spite, then so be it.

My new novella is very short, and cheaper. It might take somebody 2 hours to read in one sitting. If that doesn’t get sales… I’m not sure. Giving advice like “don’t make other people’s decisions for them” in preemptively not sharing your work because you assume they won’t like it is great in theory, but difficult in practice.

I write because I want to give people the heroes that I didn’t have. I want to give people characters that no one else is writing, so they can go “look, it’s me, I am seen” and know that they’re not alone.

So the best I can say is, I think, what I’ve said before and which I’m coopting from elsewhere:

“It’s okay if you only ever save one person in this life, and it’s okay if that person is yourself.”

[deluxewhump]

hey! Im pretty sure you don't write any more zee content ( it's probably one of my favourites! ) but i was curious if you'll ever write any drabbles or so.

Or just give an opinion, because i saw some prompts list with the usual pet whumpee meets someone they used to know before they were conditioned. So, what if Z2 ( Post frat house ) met someone he knew before his "training" ? how would he react, who would it be and how would it happen?

just a random thing i thought of, because Zee's story is the best pet whump I've got to read, and it's a trope im very fond of. So.. yeah.

Ohh well I’ve said before that I think in this heavily institutionalized universe, the company would make sure to relocate their boxies to avoid this kind of thing. But even though that makes a chance encounter unlikely, it’s not impossible. I think if it happened early on, he might actually not recognize the person who recognized him. He was in a constant state of mental and physical distress then, including wru’s many tactics. Even if he did recognize them, he’d just be upset at the situation unfolding, and want it to go away. He knows he is effectively serving a sentence, it’s all legal, there’s nothing anyone can do, please don’t draw undue attention to him. Plus he would always be around people who would take control of the situation. “Nah bro I think you’re confused, that’s just our little Z2.” (A brother giving the person a big fake fuck-off smile and ruffling Zee’s hair roughly, pulling him away from that person like end-of-story)

If it was afterwards though, like you asked, I think Zee would not only recognize the person depending on how well he remembers them but be able to play it off. If they had a lot of questions, or were acting like they were seeing a ghost, he’d just make up vague stuff on the spot and be friendly but kind of act like he’s in a hurry too, and leave that person disoriented that they just ran into their ex classmate/friend from four states over who dropped off the face of the earth three years ago and there’s nothing but tons of rumors about why or where. If Alex was there he’d play along, say hello, be polite. Cam would say nothing even if it made the whole thing more weird and uncomfortable.

[alpaca-clouds]

Using a vague excuse to ramble about more historical stuff

As y'all know: I freaking love history. And as such I could not help but perk up, as we saw the gang hang out in those ruins that clearly are near Machecoul. I instantly assumed that this was the Chateau de Machecoul, given that the ruins do indeed look similar and are located in about the same location in relation to Machecoul as the real ruins.

I was however informed by the crew that these parallels are coincidental and that indeed those ruins are not meant to be the Chateau. It is just a ruin by Machecoul.

And I mean, it is kinda fair, given that we are in Europe, and it is hard to throw a stone and not hit some medieval ruins over here.

But y'all know what? I am going to talk about the Chateau the Machecoul either way, and be it just to talk about one of my favorite historical figures. Gilles de Rais.

So, first things first: Indeed, in medieval Europe, there were a lot of castles. This had to do both with how much the different regions went to war at each others, and that nobles wanted to feel safe in some way.

Now, with Castlevania Nocturne I am still somewhat interested to see should we get a season 3, why the plot is originally set in Machecoul. My original thought was, that the show would go into the War in the Vandée. But so far that has not yet happened.

But Machecoul indeed for being a fairly small town was actually involved in several historical events.

And then we have its role towards the 100 Year War, and especially the stuff towards the end of it.

See, there are two figures in regards to the late medieval and early modern time that are quite similar in their reception today - especially in regards to how Japanese media treats them: Elizabeth Bathory (or more correctly Erszebet Bathory) and Gilles de Rais.

Why are those two so similar?

Well, because they were high ranking nobles who were sentenced for murdering children, and are by today's historians assumed to be innocent in fact.

Now, the details could not be more different though.

Erszebet is assumed by today's historians the target of a misogynist campaign for being a well-educated and quite opinionated woman. There is some assumptions also going on, that she practiced medicine, and at times could not save her patients. While historians are very sure that not even half as many people died due to her as people had said, they are also sure that there were at least six deaths attributed to her. But those were very probably just accidents due to her being unable to cure everyone. She lived in the 16th century. Those people mainly still believed in the four humors theory.

Meanwhile we have Gilles de Rais. Gilles de Rais was a noble and a commander during the 100 year war, and notably he was a close confidant of Jeanne d'Arc (Joan of Arc). And from all we know he was very unhappy with the sham trial against her, and tried in fact to petition people to release her. After she died... Well, we have little in terms of first hand accounts of how he saw the situation. But what we know is, that after her death he stopped financially supporting the church, and instead focused on producing art (mainly a very extravagant theatre play), while also getting interested in some spiritualism. One way or another: He was first accused of heresy, as he got into a brawl with a clergyman in a bar. And then there were suddenly accusations coming up that he had killed a variety of young boys, which got him in front of a court, and eventually executed.

While in both cases historians are fairly certain that they were innocent and got eventually prosecuted for political reason, only Gilles de Rais eventually got post-humosly got declared innocent. He now is considered a heroic figure in France.

However, this does obviously not stop Japanese game developers to use both figures as the horrific mudery kind.

Of course they do show up in the Fate games.

I mean, what can I say? At the very least they did not turn Gilles into a loli? lol

And yes, obviously they also showed up as characters in the Castlevania games.

Generally speaking, they are definitely among those figures who do show up a ton in Japanese media that somehow features references to European history - and usually those will just assume that they are in fact the kind of murderers that they were prosecuted as back in the day. And also they are probably some sort of magic being. (To be fair, Gilles de Rais also got prosecuted for witchcraft.)

But yeah, to come back to the Chateau de Machecoul: Gilles de Rais was living there by the time that he got accused of those murders and of witchcraft. He was living there when he got arrested. So yes, he has a strong connection to Machecoul.

As some of you might know: I used Gilles in my own Castlevania writing in a big role, as he is the main villain of The lesser Evil. However, given that I personally am not a big fan of propagating those possibly false accusations, I made his entire plot hinge on the fact that he had been wrongly accused and now kinda was out for revenge - very willing to draw Europe into chaos for this goal.

But I absolutely think he is a very interesting historical figure.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

If you're up for it, I would actually love to prompt you a fic based off of the "Steve and Billy are element teachers" idea.

I'm thinking, what if you did a fic about them falling for each other but only set in the teachers lounge? Like one of those 5 +1 style fics?

Ask and ye shall receive (sometimes) 😄 Terribly unedited and sloppy but here you go 😘

Five

“Harrington!”

Steve fought the urge to faceplant against the table. Dropping his sandwich back into its bag, Steve tensed in preparation for whatever Hargrove decided to light him up about that day.

Robin didn’t bother to look sympathetic and Jason looked positively gleeful. He needed new friends.

“What?” Steve sighed, turning around in his seat to watch Billy stomp to the middle of the teacher’s lounge and blanched.

It should be a criminal offense to wear shorts that short. There were children in the building. Hargrove taught said children. In those shorts?

“Your class has been late to PE all three days this week,” Hargrove stated, arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed in fury.

There was a long awkward pause as Steve waited for him to get to the point. Steve flushed when he realized that was the point. He fish mouthed when Munson cleared his throat, interrupting the oppressive silence.

“And?” Steve hedged, unsure of where this was going.

His class had been late to specials every day that week. Munson and Robin hadn’t complained though. Just Hargrove.

“And? Do I return your little gremlins to you late?” Steve opened his mouth to answer but Hargrove barreled on. “No! Because I have the common decency to respect people’s time.”

Steve cringed in his seat, words failing him as he pressed back against the edge of the table to get away from the absolute aggravation radiating off of Hargrove. He wasn’t doing it on purpose. He had made up a new game for the kids to help them memorize dates and they loved it so much it was easy to lose track of time.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Hargrove snapped before storming back out.

“Phew,” Robin exhaled before going back to her own lunch. “He really needs to unclench.”

Holloway’s snicker across the room did not help Steve’s guilt one bit.

Four

“Harrington!”

Steve clenched his jaw resolutely, turning in his chair and facing Hargrove head on this time. Steve had been caught off guard last time. Not today.

“Hargrove,” Steve replied coolly.

Hargrove paused his march into the teachers lounge, frowning. He narrowed his eyes before continuing his war path.

He was in those stupid little shorts again.

“I thought we established you were going to respect my time last week,” Hargrove told him, arching an eyebrow at Steve’s pinched expression.

“I didn’t agree to anything,” Steve shrugged, arching an eyebrow right back at Hargrove. “They were only late two out of three days this week anyways.”

Hargrove’s nostrils flared like an angry bull, “that’s two days too many.”

“Maybe make your subject more interesting and they won’t want to stay extra learning history facts,” Steve said, inflecting his tone with as much derision as possible.

He always told the kids to ignore bullies but Steve wasn’t one to back down from a fight.

Hargrove scoffed but a corner of his lips quirked in the hint of a smirk.

“Don’t let it happen again, Harrington,” Hargrove warned him, pointing a finger in his direction.

Steve rolled his eye and watched Hargrove turn on his heel before stomping off.

“He wants to fuck you so bad he’s about to catch a public indeceny charge in those shorts,” Jason remarked casually, smiling small and pleased to himself when Munson choked on his lunch across the room.

Steve might just catch a public indecency charge because of those shorts too.

Three

“Harrington.”

Hargrove didn’t so much as snap it that time as sighed it like a disappointed parent.

“I know, I know,” Steve groaned, already rolling his eyes. “They were late today, can we get the yelling over with in less than 5 minutes today? I’ve got a headache.”

Hargrove stopped short, mouth open as he frowned down at Steve. His hands were by his sides rather than crossed over his chest and it framed his awful little shorts way too well for Steve’s sanity.

“Well?” Steve prompted when Hargrove didn’t immediately tear into him.

“One day out of three’s an improvement, but I still expect better next week,” Hargrove told him, tone entirely too serious for an elementary school teacher’s lounge. And those stupid shorts.

“Whatever,” Steve scoffed, too tired and head pounding to truly engage with Hargrove’s bull shit that day.

The silence dragged on while everyone shifted awkwardly in their seats.

“Eat a cookie, your blood sugar’s probably low,” Hargrove told him, eyes roving over Steve’s face before he nodded to himself and stalked out of the room.

When Steve got back to his classroom after lunch, there was a homemade chocolate chip cookie on his desk. It was the best cookie he had ever eaten in his entire life.

He was grateful Claudia wasn’t there to see him be such a traitor as he nearly swooned biting into it.

Two

“Harrington?”

“What?” Steve drawled, slumping in his seat and fighting the itch of annoyance creeping up his spine. “The kids were on time every day this week, even to art and music.”

“Thank you for that,” Billy replied, shockingly earnest. “But your favorite little gremlin complained the whole time that you cut jeopardy short to do it.”

Steve sighed, raising his eyebrows expectantly at Billy, “you think I can control what comes out of Dustin’s mouth?”

Munson snickered from his newest seat next to Jason.

“No,” Billy admitted with a wry smirk. “That would take an act of congress, maybe not even then, but I do expect you to have a conversation with him about taking me seriously. Seems the lack of respect is a family trait.”

Steve and Dustin weren’t even actually related.

He rolled his eyes and gave Billy an assessing look, “you expect him to respect you in those shorts?”

Billy grinned, wide and sharklike, “I expect him standing at attention and saluting next week.”

With that, Billy departed with a resolute nod.

“Oh my god, save all of us the pain and just suck his dick already,” Holloway muttered across the room.

Robin cackled like the traitor she was.

Steve would be doing none of that.

He couldn’t fight the grin when he got back to his classroom and saw a homemade peanut butter cookie on his desk.

One

“Steve.”

Steve couldn’t stop the wild grin that tore across his face as he turned and watched Billy hesitantly enter the teacher’s lounge. His face was pinched with utter confusion.

“I almost sent your gremlin to the office today,” he told Steve, voice halting like he wasn’t sure of his reality just yet.

“For what?” Steve prodded, clicking his tongue on the “t” and doing nothing to hide how giddy he felt.

“Well,” Billy drawled, arching an eyebrow. “For calling me a fascist pig when I told him he had to play dodgeball or get an F for the day.”

Steve’s grin dampened a little bit at the words. He had definitely not told Dustin to call Billy that. That was so far beyond ‘butt head’ it surpassed comical into terrifying. He was seven.

“I am actually so sorry,” Steve whispered, grimacing as Billy’s face grew stormy. “I told him to call you a butt head not a - a -”

“Fascist pig?” Jason supplied way too gleefully.

“That,” Steve conceded, sending his most pleading look up at Billy.

Billy sucked on his teeth frowning at Steve for a moment before deflating with a sigh, “I believe you. Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

Steve exhaled deeply in relief at Billy not blaming him. In his relaxation he let his eyes drift down to the stupid little shorts Billy was sporting yet again. They were a nice dark green that day.

When his eyes drifted back up to Billy’s face, he was absolutely leering at Steve. Steve flushed and bit back a grin, peeking up at Billy through his lashes. He wondered what type of cookie would be on his desk that day when he got back to his classroom.

“Later, Steve,” Billy drawled, voice smooth and sticky like honey.

Steve’s flush spread down his neck.

“I don’t even like dick and I think I just got pregnant, those shorts are a crime,” Robin hissed.

Steve was pretty sure he just got pregnant too. The white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie on his desk solidified exactly what he knew he needed to do.

Plus One

“Billy.”

Billy’s head whipped up, eyes wide as he took in Steve standing in his office doorway.

“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?” Billy asked, a lewd grin stretching across his face as he sat back in his chair spreading his legs.

His stupid little shorts pulled obscenely against his thighs.

“Yeah it’s me,” Steve vollied back, biting his lip, fingers tightening around a Tupperware container of Claudia’s famous homemade sugar cookies. “Don’t cream your pants.”

“I just might,” Billy quipped back easily, tongue coming out to lave at his bottom lip.

“There’s children in this building,” Steve warned him, zero bite to his voice.

“Not that I can see,” Billy replied, quirking an eyebrow.

Steve cleared his throat and set the container of cookies on Billy’s desk.

“We have dinner reservations at Enzo’s at 8:00,” Steve told him. “Wear something nice.”

Billy nodded, opening the container and pulling a cookie out. Steve’s knees nearly gave out as Billy took a bite in the most disturbingly sensual way as possible.

“I’ll bring the shorts for afterwards.”

If Steve choked on his next breath, it was okay. No one was around to see it and Billy definitely wasn’t judging.

Dustin cried when they told him they were engaged three months later.

[toxicanonymity]

get to know people

ty for the tags @milla-frenchy, @sunshineispunk, @iamasaddie, @tateypots 💛. I'm tagging you 🫵 and no pressure tagging 10 of you: @dark-scape @quaritchscupquake @whateverloomis @megangovier @xdaddysprincessxx @covetyou @romanarose @aurorawritestoescape @bitchesuntitled @noxturnalnymph sorry if you already did it.

I feel kinda vulnerable (and yet boring at the same time) talking about myself, but one of my goals is to let people know me as more of a person. 🩷

what's the origin of your blog title?: I have a taste for toxic characters, and i was hastily picking a url that would give me more anonymity. this old buzzword floated into my head from 15 yrs ago--I get a kick out of buzzwords that fizzle out so fast they become associated with a very specific point in time. I got the URL on an impulse and figured I could change it once I thought of the perfect url.... Meanwhile I've had plenty of asks and stalkers who themselves embody the old buzzword's meaning: the way a veil of anonymity emboldens hate and toxicity. I just wanted my veil to write porn, man.

favorite fandoms: impossible to say. too many factors.

OTP(s) + shipname: Michael Myers & Corey Cunningham (cunningmyers). it's a deep and fucked up bond, very dark and sexually charged. (Cue father figure 🎶) In my HCs I don't imagine anything soft, affectionate, or monogamous. it's pining and worship from Corey, dominance and dark energy from Michael and his monster cock. And when they kill together, god I love that.

favorite color: depends. My electronics & cases are blue, and I like to wear soft blues. also brown and olive green to wear. Black & salmon/peach: god tier combo.

favorite game: scrabble, trivia, jigsaw puzzles, nyt spelling bee, W.E.L.D.E.R., crosswords, guessing games. I've been trying to learn how to play poker which is great entertainment for @dark-scape.

song stuck in your head: none but I make up songs for my cat and I was singing one earlier about how sweet and nice she is. update: take me to church by hozier

weirdest habit/trait?: idk, really.

hobbies: lounging, research and learning, going to movies, watching miniseries, walking, writing but mostly in my head, taking elaborate baths, reading. getting organized this yr, minimalizing, donating things I don't need. would like to get back into candle-making and painting or clay sculpting.

if you work, what's your profession? Pass. I do work, though.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be? It would be cool to make a living off writing. But, ideally get rich with minimal effort and then financially support an animal sanctuary so I could go chill with the animals whenever I want. also, publicize & investigate missing persons cases that don't get enough attention.

something you're good at: finding four leaf clovers. Cobbling together cosplay from thrift store finds. having ideas. character development & world building.

something you're bad at: socializing, but I want to do better. I'm shy to begin with and some of my experiences here haven't helped. But I promise I don't bite. I'm also bad at staying focused, keeping an uncluttered mind, second-guessing my story plans and not ending them.

something you love: having a pet. I feel so lucky to have a (not so) little furball who enjoys my company and has a personality and lets me take care of her.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: not usually super talkative. hmm. predictions about the year ahead - love to hear peoples' thoughts on this (sports, pop culture, archaeology, food & makeup trends, etc.). unsolved mysteries.

something you hate: I don't wanna get anyone worked up with a rant so I'm just gonna say canned spinach. Haven't had it since childhood but I can still taste it

something you collect: I'm not sure I collect anything. I keep a lot of greeting cards received with photos.

something you forget: what I came in the room for, why I opened the app, just about anything.

what's your love language?: little gestures (gifts/acts of service), praise

favorite movie/show: here's my letterboxd

favorite food: fresh pasta w/ olive oil and fresh parmesan

favorite animal: too many to list

what were you like as a child? pensive, curious, loved the circus and Halloween. my mom likes to tell the story of when I was 18 months old and an old friend of hers came to meet me and I explained what a parallelagram was and it freaked her out.

favorite subject(s) at school? English and Spanish

least favorite subject? anything that was straight memorization. But I wish I tried harder.

what's your best character trait? I care about people

what's your worst character trait? easily distracted and forgetful, can be slow to respond, recovering perfectionist

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? That I had to do any work at all

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? a big, hot guy who captures me but won't kill me if I escape to come back to this timeline.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

hounds of hell by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy 🐨🙏

some more favorites

--------

[royalpicaro]

So, to go off of the Fast Food AU, I got an idea from a comment by @livmightlive about a headcanon. What car does each Link drive and what state are they in? So, this is that post.

Photos included of each car.

|Time|

A Crisp 2014 Chevy Silverado 1500

Color: Blue Granite Metallic

- This truck is his baby

- It's been reliable for many years, and he's always fixed it himself.

- His knowledge of cars is standard Dad™ knowledge so he calls up Four when he doesn't know something

- He keeps it clean most of the time.

- He'll sometimes have trash in the passenger seat or on the floor of the passenger seat, but he'll grab it when he's getting out of the car to go into the store to throw in the outside trash cans.

- The bed of the truck has seen better days, but it's not in terrible shape.

- Some of the paint on the bed door is chipping off, but you can only see it if you get close enough.

- Loves taking it through the car wash

- He has those little dice that hang off of the rear view mirror.

- There's occasionally dirt caked on the bottom, but it doesn't stay there long

- The smell is nice because its from the Black Ice air freshener Malon buys and reminds Time to put in there.

- He likes it and has tried to buy other air fresheners but he likes the Black Ice one the best.

|Twilight|

A muddy 2019 Ram 1500

Color: White

- Loves this truck

- Jfc clean this poor thing(on the outside)

- The picture looks clean but in reality, the truck is muddy and it's because he always forgets to take it through the car wash or goddesses forbid he takes the hose to it.

- On the inside, it's a little dirty on the floorboards, but nothing too bad. A little shake should do them some good.

- He keeps it pretty free of trash because he likes to make sure it looks nice despite his baffling logic for the exterior.

- He definitely has a carabiner keychain that he clips to his pants everywhere he goes.

- It's no longer a thought, he just clicks that hoe on the second he takes them keys out.

- He's that shift lead that you can identify right as he comes through the door. *keychain clicking together* Bro has a precussion anthem each time he decides to move

- Carries gum with him wherever he goes.

- Perfers 5 gum but will get whatever he can grab

- Definitely sits in his trucks on his breaks

- He'd rather people not have feet on his dash

- Can parallel park as easily as a chicken can fly

- His car smells like a mix of mint and lawn clippings.

|Sky|

2019 Subaru Crosstrek

Color: Maroon Red

- This is the family car that he got as a hand me down

- It's reliable

- Sometimes, it makes a funny sound, but Sky likes to ignore it

- The aux cord is always Sky's

- It's a little dirty

- Some candy wrappers here and there

- The back seat has some books in a box that will move between the back seat and the truck back and forth

- It smells like bird feathers and some mysteriously vague cologne

- He loves bird imagery so its literally all over his car with ornaments, stickers, etc.

- Will sometimes bring his bird in the car with him(It's an african grey named Chloe who likes to sing September. He also hadls a cockatiel named Issac)

- The car's seats are ripped in places by his birds picking at them

- There's a mark on the driver side dash from when Legend let Sky smoke for the first time and he ended up wiping some of the ash off on the dash and now its just there

- Legend thinks it's hilarious

- Sky finds it embarrassing

- "Do NOT put your feet up on the dash!"

- Has slept in his car on break and will do it again

- Very comfy

|Wars|

A very well cared for 2016 Dodge Challenger 2D

Color: Baby Blue

- The love of his life

- He found this car in a used car lot and HAD to get it

- Wasn't cheap

- Likes to remind the others that it wasn't cheap when they make fun of him for it.

- He is BIG on decorating his car

- Not as much as Legend is, but he likes his car to feel nice

- Smells DIVINE(Like a really high end cologne, but just enough to not be too much)

- Has a work backpack that stays in the car

- Likes funny little things like the cupholder coasters

- Please be nice to the car

- He does drive like a maniac if he's given the chance to.

- Has constantly asked Wild to race him.

- Doesn't hang out in it on breaks

- Keeps it clean and tidy

- I'm talking he wipes down the car twice a week on the interior and takes it through a car wash once a week, two if needed

- is really proud of his car

- There's some chips and a small dent in the back bumper, but its barely noticable

- he might cry if you call it ugly

- Rarely eats in his car

- The main reason why he likes it so much is because of how the exterior looks. Its satisfying.

|Wild|

Venom x22GT 250cc

Color: Midnight Black

- Motorcycle homie 🤙

- Someone always asks who's motorcycle it is

- He's proud of it

- He loves how fast it goes and how free he feels

- He gets pulled over pretty often, but is usually apologetic

- Gets scared around bigger vehicles

- Hates being beside 18 wheelers

- Parks it where he can see it from the back door

- Is paranoid about it being stolen

- doesn't race people

- Has a bit of an ego about it

- Loves finding stickers he can put on it

- the little keychains that fit on the little bits and don't get in the way? OH! Loves em

- Overall, pretty chill about it but will try to impress someone and likely fail if they show interest in him or wanting a ride on it

|Legend|

1985 Coachman Camper(Modified)

Color: Beige and Brown

- Van lifer

- He loves being on the road, freely going where he wants, and doing what he wants

- He will camp out in the back area of his work since it's mostly a dirt area no one is using

- Will walk around to nearby areas if its a nice day because he loves exploring

- Finding new things is a hobby

- He will hang out at Warriors or Time's place if he really needs people around him.

- Loves to decorate seasonally

- Hoarder

- No literally, dude hoards so much shit that he has to give it to Ravio to keep at his place cause he doesn't want to get rid of it but has no place in the van

- I originally thought he'd have a concrete place, but I felt like it would be better this way because it fits his vibe.

- I imagine he was really closed off and stayed in the van for a long time after he lost Marin, but Warriors really helped him out by letting him crash at his place

- He decided he was going to go to van life as a change of pace after losing Marin and Ravio happened to show up just as he was about to end his lease.

- He lost Marin early in the year that he bought the van, hoping for a van life because they talked about how fun it could. He crashed with Warriors later that year.

- Ravio stayed in the place and signed the lease and now Legend is living his best life

- Will only ever invite people in if he trusts them

- Spotify 24/7

- Somehow, everyone is surprised when they find out.

|Hyrule|

A dying 2010 Honda Accord LX-P

Color: Auburn Brown

- Has been in the family since 2010

- Ol' Reliable

- Shudders when he starts it up

- Loves it anyway

- Comfortable asf

- Him decorating it in fairy aesthetic just makes so much sense to me

- It fits and he loves it and he's not ashamed

- He makes a lot of friends off of his decorating choices

- Has a satchel that he carries that has everything anyone could need.

- Pain meds? Got em. Allergy meds? He's a walking pharmacy.

- Want some acid?

- Experimental

- Hippie coded

- Like Legend is on one end of the hippie spectrum and Hyrule is on the complete opposite side

- Bro will sleep in his car and come back as if he had a moment with Hylia

- Scares him to hell and back when it starts making funny sounds

- Will go to Four as soon as he knows something is wrong.

- It's his baby 🥹 He likes the vibes he has with the car

- "I'll give up on her when she gives up on me."

- Ride or die fr

|Four|

2016 Volkswagen Jetta

Color: Pure White(the site said it and I have doubts)

- A gift

- The mechanic of the group

- He's fixed his car multiple times so he usually fixes the others cars or tells them whats wrong and how to fix it/where to go to get the best price

- Helps Time with stuff he doesn't know.

- He doesn't really decorate it cause he can never decide HOW to

- He keeps it clean though and likes to go to those car wash vaccum places

- Is a safe driver

- Not 100% of the time

- Does not like being in his car more than he has to.

- He'll eat in his car if he's really hungry

- Overall, not too crazy about his car to really do much to it.

- Is usually a good person to call if you need a last minute pick up

- The Sane One™

- Aux cord is an option

- He's a radio kind of guy

- Will hang out with Legend in his van if he just wants to destress

- HATES driving in the snow

- HATES other drivers

That's pretty much it :3

I TOTALLY didn't forget to put the name on each one like I did with Time's :D

BAAAAHHHHYYYYEEEEE!♡

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

“Rules?” Soren didn’t realize he’d echoed the word until he saw Ashlynn nodding, hand resting at something at her side that looked like a thumbtack. She looked nervous. Unsure. There was a general unease about the air around the small woman that made Soren almost feel wary, but something more. A desire. A simple goal of showing to this person he could be trusted. Perhaps it was his nature, or perhaps it was some kind of affect this tiny woman had over him.

Whatever the case, he continued to listen as Ashlynn spoke. She was on her feet now, and it was obvious she was just as nervous as he was.

“Yes, rules.” Her voice was shaking. “Staying for dinner. Being seen. Any interaction. There are rules you need to follow. All of you. If you can’t agree to those, then I’m gone. Get it?”

He as absolutely entranced. What kind of courage did it take for her to come up and speak to someone so much bigger than her? And what drove her from the walls out to speak with him? Was she in danger? She seemed like she could handle herself well enough. Or was it something else? Something he couldn’t understand or hadn’t noticed because of her silence?

He looked into her blue gray eyes and sensed the gravity of her request.

“Got it,” he breathed. His fascination kept him silent as he watched her fidget, eyes flicking back and forth as she gathered her thoughts.

Even though Ashlynn suspected Soren would be agreeable, the words were still hard to speak. Thoughts swirled in her head like a whirling tornado. Everything she’d ever been taught fought to constrain her voice. Every lesson engraved in her mind compelled her to stop.

Solitude drove many in desperation. She never thought she’d be broken enough to accept it, but here she was – a Borrower talking to a human.

Ashlynn had thought long and hard about all of the things that she wanted to say and the rules she would need to set in place to ensure her safety. There were so many, but there were a few that needed to be set in stone before she agreed to interact with Soren and his sons.

“Okay, rule one – no prying questions. I’ll answer some about me, but if I say no, it means no. Drop it. Leave it alone. Sharing too much is dangerous for me. Two, when I say it’s time to go, I have to go. No persuading. No keeping. No caging. No boxes either.” Ashlynn watched Soren absorbing her words like a sponge, making no effort to inquire further or counter any of her requests.

Is it really going to be this easy?

“T-three, no touching. No grabbing, pinching, poking, prodding, stroking, or petting. Ask before you do any of that. If I say it’s okay, then… go slow. Four, don’t make things so… obvious… that you’re helping or leaving things out. It makes things easy. I don’t want easy. I’m not a pet and just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m weak.

“Finally, no telling others about me. No stories. No hints. No drawings. Nothing that points to my existence. Do you accept?” Ashlynn wasn’t sure why she was holding her breath. Everything seemed reasonable enough, but what would Soren think?

As for the human, each request only dared him to ask more questions about their wall dwelling house guest. It was the first and obviously most important of the five rules that Ashlynn set in place. Rather than question all of them, Soren decided that asking only one, clarifying question would benefit himself and his brothers.

“Yes, of course; but I do have one question if you don’t mind.” Soren’s soft tone lessened the blow of the question, but even that wasn’t enough to ward off Ashlynn’s obvious hesitance. Soren watched her fidget subtly, obviously uneasy about the question poised to strike.

She backed slightly toward the electrical cover as she replied, “Okay? What is it?”

“What counts as a ‘prying question?’ Your name, for example, could be considered prying. What food you like or don’t like could count as prying too. Also, Rey and Dorian are curious by nature. They might not know the difference or practice discretion,” pointed out Soren. By the way the infinitesimal eyes flicked down and side to side, it was obvious Ashlynn hadn’t considered these things. “Could… I suggest a compromise? We can ask, but you don’t have to answer. Just tell us if we’re out of line and, like you said, we’ll drop it. As long as you don’t take offence to that suggestion.”

Soren hoped Ashlynn wouldn’t go sprinting back into the walls at his suggestion. Being friends was his goal, if he had to give it a name. The human watched, breath baited, as Ashlynn contemplated the request.

Every time you show up, I have more questions – questions you probably don’t want to answer. Who are you? What are you? Where do you come from? Are there more like you out there? And do they need help? Why are you trusting us now when you weren’t before? Did something happen? Is there something you need? Want? Are you telling me we can’t ask questions because you’re protecting someone? Who are you protecting?

Or are you just as curious about us as we are of you?

Soren would never dare voice these questions now or ever. Ashlynn seemed too timid, too careful, to dare answer even one of these questions. It would likely drive her away, and he didn’t want that. By no stretch of the imagination did he want to keep her here against her will, but the world was a dangerous place and, for better or worse, that protective instinct he inherited from his father and that kept his brothers safe now stretched out its hand to protect her.

The moment felt stationary before, after several skeptical looks, Ashlynn nodded a single time. “You… you can ask, but I won’t answer.”

Soren felt a smile spread across his face and the breath contained in his lungs vacated his body. He wasn’t sure how things would continue, but now he knew how they were going to start.

“So… do we shake to seal the deal? Or, do I start making dinner for four?” It was a relatively poor ploy to move things forward, but it worked. Ashlynn’s smile and obviously relieved expression told Soren everything he needed to know.

“Um… dinner. What… what’s the significance of shaking? Like… this?” Ashlynn shivered as she watched Soren’s reaction, which he was barely able to suppress as his amusement was trying to get the better of him.

“Um…” Soren cleared his throat to hide the laugh tickling the back of his throat. “No. Not exactly. It’s a handshake. You grab the other person’s hand who you want to make a deal with and that shows you both agree to the terms and stuff.” He only heard a soft “oh” in response to his explanation.

What kind of life do you live, Ashlynn? Absolutely fascinating…

“So… um… is there… anything I can do to help? Or… erm…” Ashlynn glanced around the countertops that exaggerated her size difference to Soren as she bounced her arms against her sides. It was obviously a bit of a nervous quirk, but Soren tucked that away for later.

“Let’s see,” he said absentmindedly as he thought about what Ashlynn could actually do to assist. “We’re having pizza tonight. Have you ever had it?” Ashlynn gave a vague shrug. “It’s basically cheese, bread, and tomato sauce with different toppings. Oh! I have something you can do. You have a knife, right? You could go ahead and start opening the bags and such. If you wanted to that is.”

Ashlynn, inundated with a lot of information all at once, took a second to process everything after nodding to Soren that she could fulfill the task he offered her before nodding. With little to pushback, Soren had agreed to her terms. Just like that, she was being integrated into a family activity – making dinner. The ease that Soren spoke to her and gave her a task made her head spin. She would never have been able to figure out something like this so fast.

Was it because Soren had Dorian and Rey?

Ashlynn didn’t have time to ponder because, moments after his suggestion, Soren was setting a mountain of plastic bags of varying sizes and colors onto the countertop adjacent to her. Ashlynn set her bag down by the electrical cover, keeping her hook and blade by her side, begore making the hop, skip, and jump across the stove where Soren placed the bags. Some of the food items were ones she recognized while others were completely foreign to her.

It didn’t necessarily matter. Ashlynn had tasted Soren’s food before and wasn’t about to start questioning him now. She pulled the razor blade from its sheath and began slicing. The Borrower was easily dwarfed by the bags, and she shuddered as her imagination played the stories she heard of humans trapping Borrowers in zippable bags and plastic containers.

Soren wouldn’t do that. Dorian and Rey wouldn’t do that. They’re good. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if her mantra was meant to reassure her and her decision to interact with these three humans or if she was tamping down an instinct that had picked up on potential malicious intent. Whatever the case, she continued to work.

The blade sliced easily up the shiny plastic. Twice Ashlynn had to set her makeshift razor sword to wrestle with the seams. She was so engrossed with her work that she didn’t notice until she looked up that Soren had been watching her. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“What?” she asked. Soren, who had glanced over and suddenly found himself staring, snapped out of the trance he was in after picking up on the defensiveness in her voice.

“Nothing, sorry,” he apologized. The look in her eye screamed disbelief. “It’s just interesting… differences and similarities. Your… sword? Dagger? What’s it made of?” Soren caught the tiny glint of light from the blade as Ashlynn examined it.

“It’s… just a knife. Well… for me it’s just a knife. It used to be part of a razor blade, but I bor-… er… reused the blade since it was still sharp,” explained Ashlynn. She had stopped herself from saying “borrowed” and hoped Soren didn’t notice or wouldn’t say anything. The Borrower feared he would put part of that name together and stumble across the correct term for people like her. It might’ve been a stretch, but she didn’t want to take any more risk than what she was already chancing.

“Ah… I see. And the end? You just had to flatten it and wrapped part of an… eraser? Very ingenuitive.” Soren’s complement made Ashlynn’s cheeks burn, but thankfully something or, rather, two someones pulled focus from her.

“Soren! Soren! I think we’ve got it. It’s going to be great for little m…” Soren and Ashlynn both glanced toward the living room as the sound of two pairs of footsteps thundered around the corner. Rey and Dorian were obviously racing to get to Soren first to reveal whatever they had been inventing when they stopped dead in their tracks. Both of the boys spotted Ashlynn on the counter in an instant.

Ashlynn, out of pure instinct, had backed away several large steps and crouched, hand clutching her razor blade dagger and legs primed to sprint back for the wall at a moment’s notice. The fear in her throat took a moment to swallow and she sucked in slow, deep breaths as silently as she could. The Borrower began debating whether this whole “interact with the boys” was a bad idea or not when Soren stepped forward, hands raised as if taming two wild beasts at the same time.

“Hey guys,” Soren stated clearly and calmly. “We have a guest over for dinner, so we’re going to be on our best behavior, yeah?” The boys’ faces, filled with wonder and delight, both bobbed up and down as they nodded in response to Soren’s statement.

Rey was the first to speak, giving a little wave and an optimistic smile as he said, “Hey there, little miss. Are you really staying for dinner?”

Even though Ashlynn had already committed to interacting with the human trio, getting the single word, “Yes,” out to the boys was much harder than setting the rules with Soren. The kids glanced at one another, obviously struggling to hide their excitement, before looking back to Soren.

“Does… so… does that mean she’s helping you?” Rey asked.

“Yep, and she’s doing an excellent job,” stated Soren, sneaking in a wink in Ashlynn’s direction that the boys didn’t notice. Their excitement was too distracting, just like how that wink was for Ashlynn.

“Can we help? I wanna use the smack chopper!” Dorian cheered.

Rey’s face immediately fell as he grumbled, “Hey! Not fair! I wanted to use the smack chopper.”

Smack chopper? What on earth is that? I really don’t like the sound of that, Ashlynn thought as she felt her body tense. Soren must’ve noticed, because he cleared his throat and pulled a few chopping boards out from beside the sink on his right.

“Well, at the moment I think it would be better if we let me do the cutting since we’re trying to get everything going quickly. You said you’re both hungry, right?” Soren’s sense of diplomacy and redirection was on point, and in minutes the boys were at the table helping cut and separate all of the “toppings” for the pizza. Ashlynn felt her body slowly relax as she continued her task.

At some point, Soren divvied out this squishy pale tan ball called dough and showed Ashlynn and the two boys how to knead the dough. Something about gluten and stretching out the strands. Ashlynn didn’t know. It was above her head. All she knew was that the rhythm of mixing the dough was soothing and, in a fleeting memory, she remembered seeing her mother doing something similar in their kitchen when she was very young.

“Alll-right. Now, we need to let it rise, so we’re going to put it into the sink for a bit, clean up what we can, and wait before putting everything together,” informed Soren as he gathered the balls of dough together. While Ashlynn couldn’t help clean off the table, she did snag a fragment of paper towel, attached it to the gadget Rey made for him, and began wiping down the countertop where she was standing.

It was the least she could do.

Once done, however, she watched as the boys bounded into their seats at the table, which was quite a distance away. Soren was close behind, but paused and looked back at her as he nodded at the table.

“Care to join us? We were going to play a quick game of Pictionary while we waited.” Ashlynn glanced from Soren back to the eagerly awaiting boys at the table.

“Um… sure,” she stated hesitantly. “But… I… I don’t know how to play.”

“Don’t worry. It’s very easy,” reassured Soren.

“You can be on my team!” Rey suggested, his pale blue eyes sparkling in the light. Dorian shot him an envious look and echoed his brother’s offer.

“Or mine! You can choose to be on my team.” The boys’ banter back and forth reminded Ashlynn of how she and her…. She felt her heart sink, a hollow spot in her chest as her situation felt thrust back into her face. It felt like so long ago…

Mere feet away, Soren noticed Ashlynn’s features shift from amused to crestfallen in a matter of moments. Is she sad because she doesn’t know the game? Maybe she doesn’t want to disappoint either brother? Or is something else going on? Soren wondered.

“Alrighty guys. Maybe we show her how to play and then see if she wants to choose a team,” suggested Soren. “And you don’t have to join us if you don’t want to. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with. Also, if you need a hand, happy to help.”

It was quite a generous offer, and once again a display of Soren’s ability to read her mind; for the most part anyway.

“I… thank you. I’ll make my way over while you get everything all set up.” Ashlynn thought the lift would be nice, but having Soren carry her to the table in front of the boys might send the wrong message, especially since Soren hadn’t had a chance to tell them the rules and conditions for her visiting.

“So shall it be,” he smiled before turning back to the boys and dividing up different pieces of paper and cards. With only quick flicks from curious eyes on her, Ashlynn snagged her things and headed to the edge of the counter. The wood grain had obvious pock marks from where her hook had lodged itself on previous borrowing missions. So, with that in mind, Ashlynn slid her hook into the hole and leaned over the rim.

The rope easily slid through her fingers while her feet kept traction as she bounded down the wall like an acrobat. The wind in her hair was thrilling, and Ashlynn was on the ground in a matter of seconds. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to sense all three humans watching her, jaws slack in awe.

This is really going to blow their minds then. Ashlynn stifled a grin to herself as she flicked the line. The ripple dislodged the hook and sent it flying through the air, and Ashlynn was ready for it. She only had to take two steps to the side as she snagged the hook out of the air before it hit the ground and rolled up the line in record time.

“Woah!” Both Dorian and Rey were leaning over the table, eyes wide as saucers, as they watched Ashlynn spin and hurl the hook up like a discus. It flew through the air and lodged into the side of the table on the first try, something Ashlynn was hoping would happen for dramatic effect, before climbing the line, legs weaving around the line like a snake, as she inched her way up.

“You are seriously so cool, little miss,” said Dorian, shifting his position from leaning over the table to peering under it to watch Ashlynn climb. Even Soren, who Ashlynn was climbing up beside, looked impressed.

“And, instead of gawking, we can go over a couple of rules she set for us. If she’s going to be visiting, we need to respect those rules. Okay? So, listening ears on,” instructed Soren. While Soren explained all of the things Ashlynn had told him, she finally managed to lift herself up over the edge of the table and roll onto its surface. Her heart thumped loudly, and she felt a bit winded, the table being the longest distance she’d covered without resting since her injury.

“So, we can’t ask certain questions? Like her name and stuff?” asked Rey. Soren glanced unsurely at Ashlynn. He’d never been given strict instruction to keep her name a secret, but she also didn’t give him permission to tell it either.

Hearing this, Ashlynn sat up and crossed her legs, knowing what needed to be done next. Clearing her throat, she looked between the two boys who were now looking at her eagerly.

“It’s… it’s nice to meet you, Rey… Dorian. I’m Ashlynn,” she said. She didn’t miss the excited glanced the boys gave one another. The Borrower also didn’t miss the curious gleam that was as bright as a flashlight in the dark. It was that curious gleam that every Borrower was terrified of, but she’d seen it before in the boys and let her nerves come and go as they sat back down in their seats.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ashlynn,” said Dorian.

“Ashlynn. I like that name. It suits you,” chimed in Rey. The child’s complement was short lived as Rey then asked, “Did you come up with it yourself?”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer the question. These two were obviously too young for the birds and the bees talk, and she was so unlike anyone they ever met that they were obviously not assuming there were more people like her, especially parents. At least there’s one good thing from this. They’re not assuming there’s more people out there like me.

“Um… n-no. I… I didn’t come up with it,” said Ashlynn. She felt her throat tightening, which led down into her chest like roots of a tree. She swallowed and looked away, hoping this would be the end of it; and, thankfully it was.

“Yeah, I didn’t come up with Rey. Our mom and dad came up with our names. Well, our mom came up with Soren’s name, but mom and dad both picked out Dorian and Rey,” blathered Rey. The statement struck Ashlynn as a bit odd as she wondered why Soren’s name would be dragged into the mix, especially at the mention of our mom.

“And, with that line of questioning, let’s explain the rules of the game and get a few rounds in before we bake the pizzas,” interrupted Soren. Ashlynn managed to mouth “thank you” before Soren delved into how to play Pictionary.

While Ashlynn had games like this she’d played with her family growing up, it was the whole reading portion that she struggled with. Ashlynn could sound out some words and understood certain letters put together, especially the ones that indicated danger. Reading was never a Borrower’s strong suit, so instead of participating she just watched as the two brothers tried to guess what Soren was drawing, each getting a point when they guessed correctly.

It was a charming experience, but all good things had to come to an end because, finally, it was time for dinner. Soren and the boys brought everything over to the table and Soren explained how to roll out the dough to make their own personalized pizzas.

“Okay, Ashlynn, how it works is after you roll out your dough, you spread on some sauce and then put different toppings on the top. Watch me.” Soren was lightning fast as he put together the first and the second before pausing and watching Ashlynn put together her own. Dorian and Rey asked a thousand questions as she used a bit of tin foil to spread red sauce over the surface.

What was her favorite topping? In truth? She didn’t know. She liked things she recognized and that didn’t make her feel sick later, so she chose cheese, pepperoni, bacon, and peppers.

Could she eat a whole pizza by herself? Especially if she was super hungry? Not a human sized one, but maybe one her size.

Was this the first time she’d ever cooked something like this? Yes. Cooking was a challenge.

How did she cook usually? Candle stove, but that was if she needed to cook or heat something up for safety purposes.

Did she just eat leftovers she found? Yes, mostly.

Ashlynn found herself answering some of the questions and politely declining the others and, just like that, it was time to eat. The aroma alone could have brought Ashlynn to her knees. Smelling everything first hand instead of the residual from the ceiling was like the difference between night and day. The same could be said about the temperature.

Eating something warm? Revolutionary. The moment she took her first bite, Ashlynn felt herself melting into it. At one point, she even let out an audible groan, making the boys giggle.

“It’s good, right?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn could only nod in response as she relished the experience of sharing a warm meal. “Hey, I have a question for you. Have you ever been afraid of heights?”

Ashlynn shook her head, before pausing, “No, not when I’m looking down. It’s when I’m looking up, like out here, that makes me feel a little woozy.” Rey, being curious, immediately snapped his head back ninety degrees to look up at the ceiling as if to see things from Ashlynn’s perspective. It was Dorian, however, who continued questioning.

“So, like, is it hard to climb tables and stuff like that? You know, being small and everything and you having to look up?”

Ashlynn paused mid-chew and looked up at Dorian with slight indignation. The Borrower wasn’t sure if she should be offended or grateful that the kid was taking her perspective into account and asking legitimate questions that weren’t too personal. When out in the human’s territory, it was all too obvious that size was a factor. She knew she was small, but for a Borrower she was slightly above average height. That was no small feat for a Borrower. She finished chewing and swallowed before readjusting where she sat.  

“Um… no? I mean, it was hard when I was little – little-er. It just takes practice,” Ashlynn replied. For the first time in what felt like an hour of constant inundation from the boys, Soren spoke up.

“Yeah, I can understand that. We have to do rope training and looking up at a building roof is probably the same as looking up at the top of a table for you. I noticed you were using what we call the ‘s-hook’ method to get up the rope,” stated Soren. Ashlynn’s imagination instantly ran off the rails, her train of thought imagining Soren climbing up a line. She looked away quickly, cheeks burning, and hoped Soren didn’t notice her miniature fantasy.

“I… er… I don’t know the names. It’s just what I found was faster to limb the line,” muttered Ashlynn. “I’m… impressed you can climb a line. Most humans don’t know how to do basic survival stuff.”

“Yeah, Soren knows everything,” grinned Rey as he took another bite. Sauce smeared on either sides of his lips. His smile beamed through, despite the red staining on his mouth. Ashlynn nodded and glanced up at Soren, catching his eye.

“Yeah, your dad is really great.” Immediately, she watched Soren’s features darken. Now he was the one who was stiff and who looked away awkwardly. Unease settled around the table. The beaming smile on Rey’s face diminished, and Dorian’s brow furrowed in a scowl. Ashlynn felt like she’d just set off a firecracker in the walls, and all eyes were on her.

What? What did I say? Did I say that wrong? What’s going on?

“How would you know? You’ve never met him,” Dorian piped up before taking a particularly viscous bite out of his pizza slice, tearing the edge away with ease. Confusion didn’t cover Ashlynn’s initial reaction. She glanced up at Soren, who was clenching and unclenching his jaw and keeping his eyes averted.

“Yeah… dad… he’s not… the greatest…” mumbled Rey. “He’s the one who gave me these.” At that, Rey pulled back his long sleeved shirt, and the sight broke Ashlynn’s heart. There were circular marks going up Rey’s arm. They looked like burns, but not like the ones Soren had on his calloused hands. There were other marks too that might’ve been cuts, but Ashlynn couldn’t tell from where she was sitting. Dorian did the same, wiping his hands on his pants and pulling up his sleeves to show the same marks on him.

“No… he’s definitely not the greatest.” It was the first time Ashlynn had heard a growl come out of Soren, darkness saturating his words. She’d obviously treaded on a taboo subject; but how? She looked from person to person before the words came to her.

“But… hang on a second. So… they’re not yours?” Ashlynn looked up at Soren as she pointed to the boys. Soren’s golden hazel eyes locked onto Ashlynn’s blue gray orbs and, like the striking of a match, realization struck him. Instantly, his eyes lightened and was replaced with something else – amusement. Ashlynn looked back to Dorian and Rey, pointing between either boy and then back to Soren as if she were some kind of wonky compass. “Hang on. Wait but… isn’t… Soren? He’s not…. Isn’t Soren your dad?”

Low rumbling shook the table from Ashlynn’s right, and she realized it was Soren stifling his laughter. Dorian and Rey both glanced at each other before sputtering and erupting into a fit of laughter of their own. It was as if Ashlynn couldn’t have told a funnier joke to these three. Embarrassment burned a hole through her cheeks and her ears as she looked from person to person in hopes someone – anyone – would offer an explanation.

Finally, it was Rey who spoke up, recovering enough to say something coherent.  

“Soren’s not our dad!” Rey giggled. “He’s our brother!”

Ashlynn was absolutely gob smacked. She looked between the three, waiting for there to be some kind of punch line. When there was none, Soren stepped in and continued Rey’d explanation.

“Yeah, I’m their older brother. We had the same mom, but my dad passed when I was a kid and my mom remarried to their dad, who isn’t in the picture by the way,” said Soren. Ashlynn wasn’t sure what “in the picture” meant, considering there were no cameras or other hanging pictures around, but she focused instead on Soren’s next question. “So, this whole time, did you think I was their dad?”

Ashlynn felt her cheeks burn hotter as she nodded bashfully.

“I… I guess I just thought… and you were so good at taking care of… Never mind,” muttered Ashlynn.

The boys quieted their laughter and refocused on their dinner guest.

“Oh, oh no. I’m sorry Ashlynn,” mumbled Rey.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dorian added. “You didn’t know. We’re sorry.” Soren nodded in acknowledgement, agreeing with both boys. She looked up and saw no malice or taunt hiding in the boys’ faces. It was still embarrassing, but Ashlynn had to admit that she did find it a little funny. All this time, she’d just assumed that Soren was the boys’ father. Little quirks and things he would do, and their similarities and differences could all be explained away with that explanation.

Ashlynn realized a moment later that she was chuckling a little as well. “It’s okay,” she said earnestly. “To be fair, I thought it was weird that you two called Soren by his first name. I should’ve seen it. I’m sorry for assuming.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Soren, his tone and countenance back to normal. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you two need to get to bed if we’re going sledding tomorrow.”

“And then it’s Christmas Eve!” Rey cheered, a little louder than Ashlynn would’ve liked. “Hey, Ashlynn, do you like Christmas? Did you ask Santa for anything? Is… OH! Is Santa like you? You know? Smaller?”

“Rey,” Dorian rolled his eyes, prompting the youngest brother to continue.

“What?! It would make sense. Fits down the chimney. Knows if you’re good or bad. Knows what you want for Christmas. Oh! Like an elf! Like one of Santa’s elves!”

Ashlynn was completely lost by Rey’s words. Santa? Christmas? She recognized the word “elf,” but wasn’t sure if it was a complement or not to be called one.

“You know Santa isn’t real, right?” stated Dorian in his matter-of-fact older sibling authoritarian tone.

“I know! But all of the stories have him normal sized, and maybe they have it wrong! Maybe whoever wrote those books made Santa be big with magic to keep people from looking for littler people living in the walls and floors and stuff. Wait, Ashlynn, you don’t have magic, do you?” asked Rey.

Ashlynn chuckled and shook her head, barely keeping her head above the surface of her swimming thoughts. “No… I don’t have magic. I’m just… me. What’s a ‘Santa’? And Christmas? Is that when you humans put up trees and leave out stuff for longer?”

This made Soren chuckle. “Yeah, basically. Christmas is a bit more than giving gifts though. It’s about celebrating Jesus Christ’s birth and spending time with friends and family remembering what’s important in life.” It was still so far above Ashlynn’s head that she felt like she was on the verge of drowning. At the same time, it made sense. Year after year, she’d seen humans gather together during the cold season for exactly what Soren described.

“Hey, Ashlynn? Could I ask you something next?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn directed her attention to the middle brother and nodded. “Um… you’ve said it a few times, but you’ve called us humans. I know that’s what we are, but then what does that make you? Are you not human?”

“Yeah, you look human. You’re a person, just like us. Is there a difference?” asked Rey. Dorian shot him a look, as if to say that his question should be first, before looking back at Ashlynn. The table once again fell silent, and Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer. Even Soren had directed his focus onto her and only her.

This is one of those questions about who and what I am. I don’t want to answer. It’s not directly asking what I am, but it’s close enough.

“I… I don’t… could you ask something different, please?” asked Ashlynn. Her legs pulled in closer, and it felt like her skin was tingling under the watchful gaze of the three boys. Both Rey and Dorian opened their mouths to protest, but Soren clearing his throat silenced them.

“We’ll have to save those questions for some time later. Now, hop to! Take your dishes to the kitchen and decide who is bathing first. It has to happen for both of you, so decide now. And, Ashlynn, if you don’t want to stay to do dishes, then I’ll wish you a good night,” stated Soren.

Saved!

Ashlynn nodded and smiled at the boys, who obviously looked disheartened that she didn’t want to answer their last question of the night. She crossed her legs and, in one fluid motion, twirled to her feet, earning a few “oohhs” from the boys. She snagged her hook from her hip and approached the ledge when, from behind, she heard Rey’s voice pipe up.

“Um… Ashlynn… do… do you need help? So you don’t have to climb down and back up?” The youngest’s question was genuinely out of concern, though it still made Ashlynn a bit uneasy. Still, he’d showed restraint, much like Dorian, and she was trying to demonstrate a bit of trust for the family of three.

The Borrower also remembered the last time she was in Rey’s hands, injured and ill. Was he looking for a chance to redeem himself? Or did he just want a chance to hold the tiny person again?

“I… um…” The boy’s eyes pleaded that she say “yes.”

“Rey, she might not feel comfortable with that,” stated Soren. The glance out of the corner of his eye was obviously waiting for some kind of confirmation or denial. Either way, it was a way for her to get out of being carried by a child.

But…

Rey was sweet.

He was kind.

It’s okay. I have to… no… I want to give a little. They’re inviting me into their home without anything in return. I don’t owe them anything, but this is something I can do to show the trust they’ve earned.

“It… it’s okay. Just… be careful. No sudden movements. Got it?” Ashlynn’s request was met with the delight of a thousand answered questions. Rey immediately hopped off of his chair and scurried over to the other side of the table where Ashlynn was standing. The child looked eagerly up at Soren, whose silent eye-language spoke volumes. Rey took a few calm breaths before slowly offering his hands for Ashlynn to stand on.

She could see the sauce stained fingers and the glint in those pale blue eyes that usually would’ve warded her away from such an interaction. Instead, she pushed through her discomfort and stepped forward onto Rey’s hand, ignoring the little excited inhale as she stood on his right palm and crouched.

“Over to the counter, please.” Ashlynn’s blood was roaring in her ears. She swallowed dryly as the hand beneath her jostled and Rey, as carefully as he could, shuffled his feet back over to the countertop. It was maybe five feet in total, just under two meters. It was still enough to make Ashlynn appreciate her autonomy and ability to choose.

Rey set her down without grabbing, pinching, tripping, petting, and every other horrible thing Ashlynn thought a child might be capable of. He was beaming and looking proud of himself, and Ashlynn had to admit that despite the age gap that Rey had almost given a smoother ride than Soren when he brought her to the countertop that day.

“Thanks, Rey.”

Ashlynn saw Rey’s entire body vibrate in a kind of full body wag before he replied. “You are so welcome, Ashlynn.”

Soren corralled his brother away from the countertop, Dorian close behind, as he waved goodnight to Ashlynn.

“Take whatever leftovers you’d like, and don’t be a stranger. Goodnight Ashlynn.”

Ashlynn watched the three brothers go, questions forming in her head about the three.

What was the story behind Rey and Dorian’s father? Why did Soren have that look on his face? She’d never seen him look so irritated and stoic with no gleam of care in those golden hazel orbs.

I might have to give some better answers if I want the answer to those questions; which, all in all, might not be a bad thing. Ashlynn thought as she packed up a few little pieces for a snack later and vanished back into the walls.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

Previous

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

[wolfwoocl]

“...Yeah.” 

He doesn’t like admitting the fact out loud. He doesn’t like thinking about it to begin with, but with Vash that is unavoidable one way or another. Despite steadily beating behind his sternum for four years now, Nicholas still has not come around to thinking of the heart in his chest as his. Other than a few…hiccups…here and there, it’s served him well. Kept him going. That’s as much as anyone can ask for, given how far and how hard he pushed the limits of his body.

A new heart, a product of a new century, placed in the chest cavity of a man who should have died over a hundred years ago. Ironically, it’s the only part of him that fucking belongs here. 

“Thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” Wolfwood responds wryly. Leave it to Vash to leave an impossibly well-timed comment...probably without even being aware of it. Out of place, not out of time. He can’t further pursue the darkening line of thought even if he tried. Not with Vash watching him so intently. Not with those eyes, mercurial, shifting somewhere between bottle glass blue and nightglow iris depending on how the light hits them, the angle of Vash’s face. Not when they finally have time. 

Wolfwood follows the faint, crackling lines in the corner of Vash’s left eye, right above his little mole, with the pad of his thumb. Both hands travel upward from there, gently rubbing circles about Vash’s temples, kneading his scalp and lathering the dark strands of hair further. 

“Quit squirmin’, ya missed a spot. ‘s what happens when ya only got one arm to work with, huh. Too busy gawkin’ at me with yer big saucer eyes, maybe…”

There’s hardly anything he can think of that Vash can’t do just as well with one arm that he can with two, but Wolfwood likes having the excuse all the same…And no one ever said it had to be a good one. 

Hair, shoulders, upper arm, sides, back. Wolfwood takes his time going from shampooing to soaping skin without accepting any ifs, ands, or buts. He’s earned that much, damn it, and Vash will not dissuade nor distract him. So what if he finds himself cataloguing every new scar, ones both recognizable and not? On the grand scale of things, finding Vash sooner would not have changed anything. There are more years to account for than the length of his own natural lifespan.

Somehow, Nicholas feels responsible anyway.

At the very least, he can keep his hands busy while he answers the rest of Vash’s questions. “The way I had it explained to me…My heart was cooked. A regular human heart wasn’t gonna cut it between all the shit Conrad and Chapel put me through. So they got a little creative. Recovered my file out of his archives, found some old notes the good doctor left behind.”

Wolfwood had expressly asked not to see that particular document despite Luida’s suggestions. He didn’t want to know. Didn’t need to know or relive any single part of that life.

The words do not come easy. Wolfwood’s voice becomes halting and tense as he tries to keep it steady, “It’s artificial, more or less. Infused with Plant ‘n Plant energy…Wasn’t real clear on the distinction at the time, if I’m bein’ honest. There’s still a chance that my body might randomly decide to reject the damn thing, but so far so good.”

In hindsight, Luida’s deadpan delivery of all the things that could go wrong with his new heart seems almost comical. It might also randomly explode, stop working altogether, or suddenly run out of power, but Vash doesn’t need to live with that knowledge right now.

Damn it. 

He’s lost track of how many times he’s scrubbed at this part of Vash’s back. Change of subject, then.

“Anyway, what the hell is this about you goin’ to jail? Everyone on Home was bein’ all tight-lipped about it whenever I tried to ask.”

Breathe.

Vash just needs to... breathe—to give himself a moment to take it all in, to calm down, to think about his own words. He fixates on his breath while undressing so much that he finally silences his chatterbox mouth for more than a few minutes.

He can't help but feel a creeping shyness in undressing, even if he'd done all of that and more with Wolfwood two hundred years prior. It's been a while! His body wasn't pretty before, and it's definitely worse now. Carved chunks of his flesh look deeper than before, he has far more stitched wounds. He'd nearly lost a leg once, indicated by a twisting, jagged scar around his shin and thigh where a bear trap weapon clamped onto him. Before he turned himself in, the bounty hunters became worse. Desperate, penniless, and hungry, these hunters gave their all to catch him for the unimaginable prize attached to his name. Most people didn't recognize him anymore, but when someone did...

All of the metal had to be removed when things began to shock him wherever he went, replaced by the same sturdy alloy that his most recent arm was made of. Unlike his arm from two centuries ago that didn't survive the end, the one Wolfwood retrieved lacked a gun. He couldn't have weapons in jail for obvious reasons, so Brad made him an arm just like the one he had when he'd met the priest—instead of shimmering green, it was a glassy onyx. That arm served him well. Without Brad around though, Vash can't help but wonder how he'll get a replacement...

With it gone, at least he doesn't need to concern himself over taking it off as well. Vash can just get out of his clothes and slip into the tub before Wolfwood can look at him too hard. He can feel his gaze on him when he's undressing, and while not unwelcome, it does send a terrible chill through Vash's bones that he wishes he could hide better. He wants this. More than anything else on the planet, he wants this right now. He just... hadn't thought about what bathing would entail. Kinda.

Vash huffs and shakes the jitters out from his shoulder to his hand before turning around. His gaze softens as he admires Wolfwood from the chest up, sunken and relaxed in the water just as he'd wished would happen when he built this place. It's satisfying, to say the least.

"Well, you are the only one who's ever been able to catch me," he chuckles and continues with an endearing speaking tone, "I don't have billions and billions of double dollars to give you as a reward though. Guess you got scammed, huh?"

He takes Wolfwood's hand in his as he steps into the bath and sinks right into the space in front of his partner, between his legs and against his chest. The new scars on Wolfwood's body hadn't escaped his scrutiny however; still holding onto his hand, Vash leans forward to present his back to the undertaker. Betwixt all of the scarred flesh and implants are difficult to see fringed scars, lightning scattering in every direction and more.

"We match now, I guess," the water swirls as he returns to leaning against the man behind him, "Do they hurt? What—um... what did they have to do to you? You seem more... Plant-y than I remember. Your heart, specifically. I know it's weaker than before but... it's as if they replaced it."

Vash shuts himself up by dipping his head below the water and running his fingers through it before they lather it up. Strands separate from each other as he scrubs at his scalp underwater, freeing them from a decade of grease and oil. He breaches again and sits up, curiously twisting his back to see Wolfwood's face and golden-brown eyes. The Independent has no idea just how love-stricken he looks, but he does feel tears threaten to pool at the corners of his eyes again.

It's just the hot water, Vash thinks to himself, trying not to think of all the years that came between the two of them.

"Oh, and d-don't worry about me shocking us in here! I've been... feeling calmer. Less zappy. Maybe my 'nap' did work after all..."

[that-dumbass-rabbit]

Frog, Toad, Bert, and Ernie double date you're welcome

[sysig]

Party (group) party (celebratory)! (Patreon)