#ramshackle clinic

[robo-milky]

[CW: Dark/absurdist humour + may mention blood/gore + may swear]

A Silly Dialogue Only Event Featuring…

Follow the questionable shenanigans of the apathetic Cloche, out-of-date Mors, and too-nice-to-say-no Leikata on their endeavour to exploit injured students for rep/money with the worst solutions imaginable find a use for Ramshackle’s many rooms! The bedding is dusty, and all bandages are made from cut curtains, but do you really want the school nurse to find out about your stupidity? Unlicensed healing magic and potions are illegal anyways, so you might as well come down here. But wait- There’s more! Ramshackle Clinic is also opening up “free” therapy for hardworking students!

Reblog for a ticket number and mail your concerns to the inbox! Ramshackle Clinic will be on its way to help.

Ex. “I want work.” “Lilia’s cooking upset my stomach…” “I heard XYZ visited a couple days ago, why aren’t they out yet?” “A request for the Doctor/Nurse/Receptionist to…” “I’m here to visit XYZ”

OCs and Canon characters welcome! Can’t say if they’ll be treated well…

[kandlewick]

everyone awoke to malleus defeated. except for you meant to be read as platonic malleyuu but can be read as romantic.

Malleus could hardly breathe. every inhale felt like it was too small, like the air surrounding him was too thin. His lungs were empty, barren, and dry. And then he would exhale. a shaky breath. It rattled his bones and burned in his chest. As if nothing but flames raged in his insides. Before him laid a friend, a betrayed comrade, someone who put too much trust in the wrong people. You. You were asleep there, in a bed of thorns and roses, nestled deep and safe. Each petal cradled your cheek like a picture frame and you were a work of art. It all felt so clinical, so far away that Malleus could hardly tear his eyes away from your sleeping form. while constricted by vines to your familiar bed in ramshackle, no thorns pierced your skin. you knew no pain lying there. only dreams. It hardly felt real.

Malleus had made a mistake. He knew he had as soon as the blot began pouring from behind his tongue. but he couldn't stop it. the delirium. it poured out of him like a cracked glass of sand. In those fleeting moments, nothing had mattered more to him. The blot retched every single negative emotion out of his soul, bearing it for the world to bear witness to. And he was ashamed.

but you and the others had succeeded against him, saving all of your classmates and himself from the curse of eternal slumber. One by one, they all began awakening. Eyelids fluttering in the new morning sun. He awoke to the sound of laughter and cheers while he laid there on the broken floor, alone and empty and so so cold. Quietly, Malleus raised his head to thank? Curse? The Ramshackle prefect that laid beside him.

only, you remained there. asleep. too far gone and too far deep for anyone to reach out to. it was like your soul and body were separated, torn asunder. the only sign of life was your chest moving up and down from the breath that filled your lungs. At the moment, Malleus thought perhaps you were simply exhausted, with the heavy bags under your eyes and the pale complexion dusting your cheeks. Like the others, he thought that you only needed more rest. But days passed and there were still no signs of life behind those closed eyes. The teachers talked amongst themselves, unwilling or perhaps unable to offer any sort of explanation. There were talks about asking for assistance from other bodies but they were quick to be shot down. It seemed like nobody knew what to do with you. Or… your body. 

Nobody took it well.

Malleus in particular had ceased his studies, locking himself away in your room in Ramshackle. Ace and Deuce would appear on occasion, Grim in tow, but the three were quick to make themselves scarce once Malleus made it clear he was not leaving your bedside. He sat there for hours, uncaring of the passing of time as night became morning and dawn became dusk. What were mere days to a nigh immortal fae. If this was his curse, to watch the one human who befriended him and suffered for it waste away from his own folly, then so be it. Every morning, like clockwork, he sat there. Unflinching. Unmoving. Like a gargoyle. His eyes were empty and red, long dried from tears but he couldn’t drag himself away from you - he refused to even think of calling you a corpse. 

This day was like any other. He sat there beside you, his hands in his lap, the book he had foolishly planned to humor to read had been cast aside long forgotten, but for some reason the sight of you there pricked at his heart more than before. His voice came out quiet, weak from disuse, but he made an effort all the same. 

“My child of man.” he croaked, his tone heavy with shame and sadness, “I will not ask you for forgiveness.”

He took a shaky breath. Hesitantly, he reached out with a weak hand and clasped your own. The thorns around you pricked him and drew blood, but he paid no mind to it. He felt nothing. Numb. Malleus choked back tears as he pulled your hands close to his chest and against his still beating heart. He lowered his head in agony as he confessed like a convict at death’s door. “What I have done to you is unforgivable.”

He held you to him. Like if he held onto you tight enough, you wouldn’t fall even more to pieces. “You were my first true friend, my closest companion. The only one who treated me as if I was an equal…” He bit back a sob as he tried to cradle his face between his hands, desperate for your touch to once again warm his bones. But there was nothing. Only the cold. “And now I’ve lost you.”

“And not a day shall pass in the centuries that I am cursed to live will I ever forget your smile.” Then with an almost reverent touch, the prince brought your hand to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to the back of your hand. His lips stayed there, the taste of salt and skin filling his tongue, but he made no effort to move while he cried.

So far gone was he that he never noticed the batting of eyelashes, the furrowed brows, or the intake of breath. So far gone that it wasn’t until he felt your hand, tiny and weak, press against his dark hair, did he lift his head.

“Good morning, Hornton.”

[natalievoncatte]

The yawn stretched Lena’s jaw to the point that she felt like a cat, baring her fangs. Naturally, it prompted a Kara Danvers Pout, which was utterly devastating. Kara looked at her over the top of her drink cup, straw still pursed in her delicate pink lips as she frowned slightly.

“How long have you been awake?”

“I had a half hour nap this morning,” Lena sighed.

She’d been in the office for three days, but she didn’t admit that.

“Leeeenaaaaaaa,” Kara said, drawing her name out into a gentle rebuke. “You promised me you’d stop doing that to yourself. I’m taking you home.”

Lena’s heart skipped and Kara abruptly jerked upright, briefly glancing at her. Lena hated when that happened, when her body betrayed her. Kara meant escort her home; Lena’s thoroughly tired mind had supplied another scenario, one where Kara carried her onto the bed, relieved her of her clothes and dove between her legs, but that was never going to happen. Lena let out a long sigh of resignation, trying to be satisfied with best-friendship.

She hoped Kara hadn’t suddenly developed telepathy.

If you took me home I’d never leave. I could make love to you for a hundred years.

Kara smiled back at Lena’s wistful look. “I mean it.”

“Okay. I can come back to it tomorrow. Besides, I’m too full of grease and cheese to stay awake. Should we…”

Lena never finished her sentence. There was a crackle in the air, a sudden wet smell of ozone, and the thunderous boom that made her ears ring.

Kara flashed in front of her at super-speed, yanking off her glasses and tossing them on the couch in a smooth motion.

Hovering in the middle of her office was some ramshackle contraption resembling a mechanical eye about the size of a basketball that scanned Kara with a faint purple energy ray.

“Kara Danvers. Supergirl. I am Zeglos, Regent of the Alotian Republic. I am calling to you from the home of my people, located in what is to you a subatomic realm we call Universe Q. We need your help, you are our only hope. The invaders are slaughtering us and razing our home. There is no time.”

Kara glanced back at Lena. “I’ll help if I can. Let me-“

“There is no time. You must come with me now.”

“Wait, hold on a second-“

The machine flashed, thrumming as it powered up, and blasted here with a wave of light that surrounded them both, and then in a crackling boom they both vanished, leaving behind the ozone smell and a faint impression of Kara’s boot heels in the carpet.

Lena stared into the empty space for a moment, then shot to her feet, snatching the phone off her desk, where it had lain ignored since Kara walked into the room.

She called Alex, shocked at the blubbering panic in her own voice. Within a few minutes, everyone was there, piling into the room. Lena warded them off from the spot where Kara had stood. Alex was cold and calm, her voice clinical, and she immediately began issuing orders. J’onn took Lena aside and gently asked her probing questions in the manner of an old detective, coaxing every meager detail of the event out of her.

Within half an hour, Brainy and Lena had set up all sorts of equipment around the room, scanning, hoping to find some energy signature or other clue that could enable them to bring Kara back from wherever she’d been taken.

It proved fruitless. They tried everything.

Minutes stretched into hours. Lena was exhausted, heavy with fatigue.

“Go home, get some sleep,” said Alex. “We can’t help her if we pass out on the floor.”

“I’ll sleep here.”

She did, throwing a thin blanket over herself on the couch. It was Alex, not Lena, who cleaned up the Big Belly Burger mess. Lena slept fitfully, showered in the en-suite attached to her office, and changed into an old hoodie that she kept there and wore when no one was looking.

It wasn’t hers. Threadbare, a maroon color faded to a soft red, the back still emblazoned with a cracked and fading Midvale Mathletes Club logo, it was Kara’s. Lena had snatched it from Kara’s sofa and put it on one night when she was feeling bold and then, as now, felt surrounded by it, the oversized garment swaddling her.

And it smelled like Kara, just enough. Kara had stared at her intently for a moment when she took it that night but said nothing, a wistful sad look on her face before the moment was broken by Wynn’s bad joke at the table. Wynn was gone now, but the hoodie remained, just as it had remained when they were fighting, when she thought she’d never see Kara again. She’d worn it then and cried herself to sleep in it.

Just like now.

A day became two. Then three. Five. Lena tried everything, pursued every theory. They called in every favor, human and alien. Brainy tried to send messages to the future. Nia dreamed fruitless dreams. Alex paced like a caged animal and Kelly kept the peace, keeping them all fed, making sure everyone slept, talking things out whenever tempers flared.

Nothing worked.

Lena even tried praying, something she hadn’t done since the last time she was in a small church in Ireland. It didn’t work this time, either.

Lena was seated next to Brainy on the couch, going over a design for a new device to try to follow what was by now a thoroughly cold trail. Alex stood at the balcony door, staring out into a slashing summer rain squall that buffeted the glass with distant thunder and gusts of wind.

The ozone smell tickled Lena’s nose and she looked up, just as Kara took a stumbling step out of nowhere, appearing in her office with an utterly bewildered look on her face.

“Kara?”

Alex snapped round, adding her voice to the chorus. “Kara?”

Kara stared at her sister, open-mouthed, tears welling in her eyes.

“Alex?” she said. “Alex, you’re alive? How is that possible?”

“Alive? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Kara!” Lena cried, her voice ragged in her throat.

At the sound of her voice, Kara snapped around, eyes wide. Her knees buckled and she sagged, almost falling. She stumbled forward as Lena stood and they fell into each other, Lena hurling herself, reckless, into an embrace that revealed too much. She almost climbed Kara, all but throwing her legs around her as well as her arms as she buried her face in the Kryptonian’s neck.

“Oh God. Oh Rao. I thought you would all be gone. I begged them to let me leave but they wouldn’t let me go, I had to…”

“Kara?” Alex asked, cautiously. “Why would we be gone?”

Kara barely seemed to hear her as she gently twined her fingers in Lena’s hair and wrapped her powerful arm around Lena’s waist, encircling and shielding her.

“How long has it been?”

“About a week,” Lena choked out. “I was so scared.”

“A week?” Kara blurted. “It’s only been a week here?”

Alex put a reassuring hand on Kara’s back, standing next to them. “Yeah, you were taken on Tuesday, kiddo. It’s Wednesday, the 17th.”

Kara stared past Lena, resting her chin on the shorter woman’s head, and began to sob with relief.

“Kara?” said Alex.

“Time dilation,” said Brainy.

“They told me time would pass slower up here but I didn’t believe them. I’ve been gone for… for…”

“It’s okay, Kara,” Lena whispered. “You’re okay, you’re back.”

“Eighty seven years, four months, and eighteen days,” Kara sobbed. “It’s been so long, I thought you were all dead.”

Alex stiffened. “Kara. Oh my God.”

Kara buried her face in Lena’s hair and breathed her in, shuddering. “I’d given up. All that kept me going was hoping I could see you again. This is a gift. A gift. I love you all so much.”

Kara still held her, rocking slightly, her big shoulders shaking with powerful sobs.

“Kara,” Lena whispered. “Kara, it’s okay.”

“I love you,” Kara blurted. “I love you. It’s okay if you don’t love me back, I just need to tell you, I have to tell you. All I could think about down there is how stupid I was and how stupid I’ve been and how none of the reasons I never told you made any sense,” she sucked in a breath as if she’d briefly forgotten how, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

There could be no mistaking her intent. She seethed with it, it radiated from her very bones. Lena hugged her hard, crushing her with all her might as if to crawl inside her.

“God, Kara, I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that. I love you too. Let’s… mmmph!”

Kara was kissing her. Lena’s brain briefly froze, then she realized the full magnitude of what was happening. Kara was kissing her. Kara was kissing her. Then Lena was kissing her back. There was so much in it, need and lust and adoration and an unbelievable desperation, but above all love. Lena felt her heart open as if hadn’t in a long time, like a flower unfolding to receive the nurturing warmth of morning sun.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Kara whispered when they finally broke and Lena again could breathe.

“Let me take you home,” said Lena.

[stillmonsterz]

Tired Of What We Are

pairing: sunghoon x reader

genre: angst (?), smut

summary: you drive to your old town, where old memories are awakened by the person who never ceased to confuse you, mystify you, and see you for what you are.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, piss is mentioned (not sexually), slapping, dubcon if you squint, name-calling, sunghoon is kind of a loser.

word count: 6.5k

As soon as you passed the sign on the highway welcoming you into your old town, you remembered why you had left in the first place. Small, ramshackle houses resting on lawns choking with weeds, cracked pavement, two grocery stores passing around the same pool of customers. You drove past the elementary school where children teemed on the swing sets, past the Methodist church where you had attended when a member of your family had felt religious conviction.

               Five years had passed since you had been here, and everything seemed even smaller and bereft of beauty. This was a feat in itself, as you had been sick of it when you had lived here. You had driven here to pick up a reference from your first job; a part-time job as a receptionist, a role that had forced you to be human. As you pulled into the parking lot of the small insurance company, you wondered why you had bothered driving all the way here instead of having the reference letter e-mailed to you. You figure that you wanted to remind yourself of how far you had come. 

               After an uncomfortable conversation with your old boss, you’re clutching your reference letter in your hands. You could just drive home, but a lingering thread of nostalgia knots itself in your chest. Instead, you decide to walk around the main street of the town: a thrift shop, a bakery, two grocery stores, two convenience stores, a chiropractor clinic, a veterinarian's office, a burger joint, and a dispensary. “So they finally built something there,” you think. You remember when it was just an empty space, white-washed walls and cement floors. The last time you had seen it was with Sunghoon.

               His name rings loudly in your head, the letters blazing red. You force yourself to walk past the dispensary, instead opting to go to the bakery.  Something sweet will take your mind off of him. Sunghoon, your enemy, the bane of your high school existence, the only person who had ever understood you. 

               You pick out a cupcake, sliding money onto the counter idly as the memory overtakes you. Even a bite of the treat does little to quell the overwhelming feeling of…loss?

               The last time you saw Sunghoon, you were both 18 years old. He was affable, good-looking, and hopelessly obnoxious. You had ended up on the same bus route, and he took pleasure in bothering you, from freshman year all the way to senior year. His taunts went from playground insults to targeted remarks about your body, your looks, your social life (or lack thereof). The one thing he focused on the most was your personality. Your other traits were all clearly jokes, but his dislike for certain aspects of your personality seemed almost personal. He would call you cowardly, overly shy, a people-pleaser.

               He would slide into your seat, invading your personal space. You tried placing your backpack next to you, but he would just place the backpack on his lap and smile at you with a smug grin. Sunghoon would take pictures of you when you weren’t looking, pointing at your nostrils flaring, or your awkward facial expression. You couldn’t remember your first conversation with Sunghoon; it had all blended into a long string of annoyances. 

               At school, you rarely saw him. He wasn’t in any of your classes, opting for the more practical courses while you had gone for college levels. When you did pass by him in the hallway, he was usually slinking around alone or with one of his friends. He was sickly pale and sullen, but when he laid eyes on you, he would brighten and laugh. If you were carrying a book, he would make a snide remark about that. Otherwise, he would either be silent or make fun of your outfit.  Sometimes he would have his arm around a girl, so he would walk past you as if you didn’t exist, but you swore you could feel his eyes burning holes in your back.

               You never argued with him. You thought it was your way of turning the other cheek, of being the bigger person, but it just made you feel like a coward. You would swallow the taunts like a spoonful of acetone, gritting your teeth and smiling. The smiling would only make it worse, sometimes.

               When you were 18 years old, three weeks before graduation, he had coaxed you out of your room during the middle of the night, rapping on your window with his reddened knuckles. It had taken some convincing, some wheedling, and a little name-calling, but you sensed that you could have an adventure. When you crawled out of your window, your backpack strapped to your back, he had helped you get out with a Cheshire grin.

               That was the night he had led you into that space on Main Street, pushing past the doors with the bravado that only a high school drug dealer could muster. He sat on the floor, patting the ground next to him.

               When you were 18 years old, and he gave you your first edible, resting your head on his shoulder as you waited for the THC to kick in. To pass the time, the two of you talked about your student body. Sunghoon disliked almost everyone there, spitting out names with venom. You weren’t fond of them either, but you told him that you didn’t mind them. He told you not to lie to him because he can tell. He said that he’s not fucking stupid. You said that you never thought he was stupid, and he told you to stop lying to him for once. Then you called him fucking stupid, and he laughed. Sunghoon had even started applauding you, but you had shoved him and told him to be quiet.

               That was the night when he had given you one, two, three gentle kisses on the lips, whispering that it didn’t mean anything after you had pointed out he had a girlfriend. You remembered his slow smile after you gave him a soft kiss in return.

               When you were 18 years old, and after the percs that he had taken had kicked in, he had admitted that he wished he had had your brain, so he could escape this town and become something, someone useful. When you had blearily suggested running away together, he had laughed and said that he wasn’t that fucking high.

               And that night, when he had pressed you onto the cement floor, kissing you languidly, like time was all you had, he had whispered that he wanted to give you the rest, let you take everything. You said that you didn’t want to do it there, and not when he had a girlfriend, and he had sat up, nodding and pushing his hair back. And you had asked why he was so mean to you, and he asked why you never fought back. And he said that all you did was take it and take it, so he had to give it. He said that he could tell that there was something in you, something desperate to get out, but you were too weak, so he had to rip it out for you. So you had stumbled to your feet, offended and dazed, and he had offered to walk you home, and you had said no. You walked away from him, and the last time you saw him was at your graduation. You were surprised that he had had the credits to walk.

               ---

               As you walked away from the bakery, you decided that you would drive to your old house, then you would never come back. You clambered into your car and drove to your neighborhood. You thought that things would have changed, but the sameness haunted you. The same people sitting on their porches, the same dogs tied to a post. When you get out of your car, parking it on the curb outside of your old house, and survey the ground, you could swear that the same glass bottles litter the ground.

               Your old house is a one-story affair: worn, blue clapboard siding, a tired white porch. To your delight, whoever moved in after you had installed a windowbox of red begonias. As you survey everything, the wilted lawn, the gravel driveway, the weather-dampened wooden steps leading inside, you hear a voice behind you.

               “If you wanna buy that one, you’re out of luck. I can get you someplace nicer.” The cadence, cockiness, the playfulness, it all burns you. You turn around, and there’s Sunghoon, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, smiling at you with that same shit-eating grin. He’s holding a glass bottle of blue soda.

               You just stare at him, taking in his appearance. A bit of stubble dots his chin, he’s grown taller, and his eyes are wearier. But it’s still him.

               “What, no hi?” He steps towards you, his arms outstretched. “You hate me that much?”

               “Hi,” you mumble, hugging him. He smells the same, and his grasp is as you had imagined.

               You feel his free hand stroking your back. “How have you been?”

               “Good.” You pull away so you can see his face closely. “You?”

               He shrugs. “I’m still here, so there’s your answer.” He steps back, letting his arms fall to his side. Sunghoon opens his soda, tossing the cap behind him. He takes a long swig of it as he stares at you. “What do you do now?”

               You tell him your new profession, and he smirks. “Using that brain for good, are you?”

               “I try,” you say dryly. “Do you still sell?”

               “Nah,” Sunghoon says, shaking his head. “Gave that shit up after high school. No, I’m a real estate agent now.” When he notices you glancing at his unkempt appearance, he groans. “I have a meeting with a client in like a few hours, I don’t go around wearing a suit all the time.”

               You laugh at him and walk away slightly. As you lean on your car door, crossing your arms, he follows you so that he’s standing directly in front of you.

               “So, are you still a geek ass loser?”

               “Are you still a burnout?”

               Sunghoon scoffs, kicking at your shoes. “Burnout? You sound like a PSA. I’m actually in my bag now.”

               You cover your mouth to muffle your laugh. “In your bag?”

               Sunghoon smiles so widely you can see his molars. “Yeah. Stacking paper, you know. I’m planning to save up money and head out with Shay.”

               “Shay?” You don’t recognize that name from Sunghoon’s revolving door of exes.

               “Yeah.” His voice drops and his eyebrows set into an angry little line. “Yeah, Shay’s my girl. We’ve been together for two years now.”

               “Oh. Congratulations.” For some reason, jealousy nips at you, and you can’t pinpoint why. “What’s she like?”

               Sunghoon shrugs. “She’s nice, you know. Cute and sweet.” He takes another drink of his soda. “You got anyone?”

               The teasing glint in his eyes makes you want to lie, but you know there’s no point. “No.”

               He laughs. “I knew it. I bet the last play you ever got was I kissed you.”

               The fact that he brings it up so casually takes you off guard, but years of arguing with Sunghoon have sharpened your reflexes. “You wish you were my only experience. You’re hardly that important.”

               “Oh?” Sunghoon walks slightly closer to you, his tone mocking. “Goody two-shoes got a little wild in college? What, did a guy finger you in exchange for you writing a report for him?”

               “Fuck off.”

               He grins at you. “Oh, and she’s got a mouth on her now. Who taught you that?”

               You roll your eyes. “Nice to see that you haven’t changed.”

               “Hey,” Sunghoon says defensively, “I have changed. You on the other hand…” He tilts his head, smirking as he analyzes you from top to bottom. “Well, you’ve changed in the ways that matter.”

               “And how’s that?”

               Sunghoon smiles. “You got hotter.” Before you can retort, he starts walking away. “Come on,” he calls behind him, “I have to give you something.”

               “Syphilis? Gonorrhea? Herpes?” you ask, wandering after him as he strides down the sidewalk. You rub your arms as you walk; the familiarity of the spring day has brought you chills.

               “Haha,” Sunghoon says in a deadpan voice. “Humor was never your strong suit, was it?” He stops walking so you can catch up to him, then takes a right.

               “You’re no comedian yourself,” you retort, nudging him with your elbow. He elbows you back, smiling, and then you remember that he’s dating someone. You clear your throat and look away, focusing on the poplar trees lining the sidewalk. “So what did you have to show me?”

               “It’s a surprise,” you hear him say, a teasing lilt in his voice.

               “I don’t like-,”

               “Surprises,” he says, and you turn to look at him. “I know you don’t, but you’ll like this one.”  

----

               Sunghoon was still living with his parents. He explained that the housing economy was horrible, so he opted to stay with them until he saved up enough money.

               His house was nicer than yours, which wasn’t a feat. It was two stories, and the small garden filled with perennials and irises seemed well-maintained.  The walkway was clean, and there was a Honda Civic parked outside.

               “My parents are in Montauk right now,” Sunghoon says, leading you into his home. He fumbles with his keys before successfully opening his newly-painted door.

               “Where’s Shay?”

Sunghoon shrugs. "At work. We don't live together right now, but she might come over soon to visit me before my meeting." When you walk inside, you’re greeted with its simple living room: a worn-out sofa sat against one wall, its once vibrant upholstery now faded and threadbare. Across from it, a scratched coffee table held a scattering of magazines and a remote control with missing buttons. The plasma TV looms on the wall, adjacent to the stairs.

               You kick your shoes off and line them up by the door.

               “Cute,” Sunghoon mumbles. Then he clears his throat. “Come upstairs, to my room.”

               You follow him up the carpeted stairs to his room, which bears the childish scribble “STAY OUT” in black Sharpie. You point at it and snicker.

               “I had to let everyone know I wasn’t fucking around,” he says with a laugh.

               “Did this deter your sister at all?”

               Sunghoon sighs. “No. She would just come in here and take my things. Really grinded my gears.” As you enter his room, taking in its sheer normalcy, he continues talking. “Once, when I was in the living room watching a movie with my parents, she ran down the stairs and started shrieking. She was like, ‘I found something in Sunghoon’s room!’ and she was hollering. I got so scared, because I used to keep my stash in my sock drawer-,”

               You stop ogling the various posters of movie characters that he had pasted around his room and turn to him. “Your sock drawer? Why?”

               Sunghoon shrugs. “Who would check the sock drawer? It’s foolproof. Anyways, I thought for sure that I was done for, when she yells, ‘I found a…bad magazine in there!’”

               “So what was it?” You lean against his tall wooden dresser.

               Sunghoon places his half-empty bottle of soda on his tidy nightstand and starts to rummage around inside its small drawer. “It was a Playboy that one of my friends had found in the woods. I had put it, like, under my bed.”

               “What’d your parents say?”

               Sunghoon finally retrieves the item he was trying to find, turning to face you with his hand clenched around something. “They were like, son, you can’t bring that into the house…we’re going to have to confiscate it…I found it in my dad’s side of the closet a few months later.”

               You laugh, crossing your arms. “You must have felt so slighted.”

               “I did,” Sunghoon says gravely. His face brightens, and he hops onto his twin-sized bed. “C’mere.” You oblige, politely making space. “Now close your eyes…”

               You roll your eyes, but you do what he says.

               “Open your hand…Now close your hand again. Now open it one more time…now close it again.”

               “Sunghoon.”

               “All right, damn. Open your hand, for real.”

               Something cold presses into your hand, with little rough edges. When you open your eyes, it’s a small piece of quartz. You hold it up higher, examining it. “A rock?”

               “Don’t you remember?” Sunghoon laughs. “You got so pissed at me for taking this from you. I think you had found it outside at school, and you got so angry. You did your usual, ‘Whatever, Sunghoon, routine, but you were pissed.”

               “So,” you begin slowly, rolling the quartz in your hands. “You brought me here for a rock?”

               Sunghoon pauses, then nods. “Yeah.” He scoots closer to you, his knee touching yours. “Is a rock so meaningless to you?”

               “It’s…fine. Imbued with memories.”

               “You’re such a shit liar. Just say you’re pissed at me.”

               You shrug. “I’m not pissed…”

               Sunghoon reaches behind you and snatches your phone, springing to his feet. “Are you pissed now?”

               “Oh, come on. Give it back,” you say, standing up as well.

               “Come get me,” he replies, running down the stairs with a laugh. You toss the piece of quartz back onto his bed and you chase after him, fighting a smile from spreading on your face.

               You finally catch up to him in his living room, where he’s tossing your phone from hand to hand. “Give it back, Sunghoon. You’re acting like a child.”

               Sunghoon dangles your phone above your head. “You’re acting like you’re too good for some fun. Come on, try to get it from me.”

               You unsuccessfully hop around, trying to snatch your phone from Sunghoon’s elusive grasp. He snickers at you like you’re a trained dog, and it pisses you off.  Eventually, you get so fed up you try to get him off his feet, tackling him to the carpet. Your phone goes flying out of his hands as he falls, and you reach out to get it. Sunghoon’s hands wrap around your waist, preventing you from leaving.  You turn to look at him as you hover above him, your knees on either side of his body. You and Sunghoon are behind his couch, obstructed from view if you walked in the house.

               Sunghoon looks as if he’s about to say something, but instead he gently presses your head towards him. It’s not a surprise when his lips meet yours, but the tenderness with which he kisses you is shocking. He sighs softly into the kiss.

Sunghoon takes his time, running his hands along your body. His gaze is almost analytical, his touch precise. He strokes your stomach, rubs your breasts, caresses your waist. One of his hands slides down your inner thigh, rubbing circles there with his thumb. His other hand cups your cheek, and he kisses you gingerly, as if he’s scared that you’ll disappear. Once he seems sure that you’ll stay, he parts his reddened lips and slips his tongue into your mouth. You massage his tongue with your own, your eyes flickering shut. Warmth spreads through your stomach, trickling to your fingertips.

               His cold hands slip under your shirt, and his fingers trail along your stomach. Sunghoon strokes your warm flesh, moaning slightly into the kiss. As you feel him groping your breast through your bra, you place your hand on his. “Stop,” you whisper.

               Sunghoon stops fondling you, but his hand still rests on your breast. “Why?” His voice is almost childlike in its disappointment, his dark eyes narrowed.

               “It’s wrong,” you say earnestly, “you have a girlfriend.”

               “Shay won’t know,” he whispers, butting his nose against yours. “This is just a one-time thing, just to finish what we started.”

               “It’s still cheating,” you say, circling your hand around his wrist.

               “So get up.”

               “Huh?”

               Sunghoon scoffs and continues to feel up your chest. “You don’t care. If you had cared, you wouldn’t have followed me into my house. You wouldn’t have come up into my room, you wouldn’t have tackled me to the ground. If you feel so strongly about cheating, then get up and leave.”

               You’re stunned, staring up at him. His response is to kiss your neck, licking at it. Sunghoon gently nips at a spot, and you whimper. “You know, that’s always been your problem,” he mutters. “Open your mouth.”

Still speechless, you timidly open your mouth. Sunghoon shoves two of your fingers inside. “Suck on these,” he orders.

               As you lick around his fingers, tasting his coppery sweat, he plays with your hair with the other hand. “Your problem is that you’re always pretending to be this impossibly good girl. It made me sick, seeing you laughing it up with other people when I know you didn’t like them, pretending to care when you don’t. How could I not press your buttons? Just once, I wanted you to admit it. I wanted you to show anger, sadness, something, anything. Any reaction besides indifference or your little smiles. I was so happy today, seeing you fight back. It only took five years…”

               Sunghoon pulls his fingers out of your mouth and uses the wetness to rub your nipples, looking you dead in the eyes. You whimper again, the coolness serving as a balm for your overheated body. “You remember the first week of freshman year, when our bus driver hit that rabbit?”

               You jerk your head away from him. “What?”

               “The rabbit,” he says insistingly, sliding his wet finger from your chest to your navel. “When it ran in front of the bus and it went flying. Everyone else was crying, or freaked out, or they made a joke out of it even though they were creeped out. But you didn’t react.”

               His gaze is piercing, and you swallow heavily. “Yes, I did. I cried.”

               “Fake fucking tears. I saw you, I saw you. I always see you. You were just sitting there, your face blank.” Sunghoon leans in and kisses your cheeks as if to punctuate his words. “Blank as. A. Fucking. Wall. Then you looked around at everyone else, and you started crying.”

               “So?” His hands have wrapped around your waist again. “What are you trying to say?”

               “That you don’t care,” Sunghoon whispers against your ear. He licks the shell of your ear, his tongue trailing down to the lobe. “And I love it. I always have.” Finally, he kisses your lips again, just as sweetly as before. “Tell me you care about Shay, right now. Tell me you care, and I’ll leave you alone.”

               Emotions swirl in your gut, and you realize that you don’t recognize any of them as guilt. “I don’t care,” you say, eyes widening in realization.

               “There she is,” he whispers before kissing you again, bringing you down so that your chest is flush with his. He runs his tongue on your teeth before breaking the kiss with a smack. Saliva drips out of his mouth, and his breath is heavy. “Why didn’t you let me have you back then?”

               “I was scared that I would have fallen in love with you,” you admit softly, your hands entangled in his dark locks. You kiss the moles adorning his face.

               “Probably a smart decision,” he says with a slight smile. “Is that still a risk now?”

               You shake your head. “No. I doubt this will have much impact on me at all, honestly.”

               “Fuck off,” Sunghoon says, now widely grinning. He flips you so that you’re underneath him, and his chain dangles in your face. You playfully bite it, tugging the chain so that Sunghoon’s face is close to yours. “When did you get so cute?” He kisses you again, the tenderness from before giving way to desire.

               “When you started noticing,” you say, stroking his hair and the nape of his neck.

               “Nah.” Sunghoon tilts his head and kisses you again, hands once more snaking under your shirt. “I always noticed you.” He starts to pull your shirt off and you help him. When you’re lying there, clad in your bra, Sunghoon pulls himself up, kneeling above you. His dark eyes are almost unreadable.

               “What is it?”

               “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, stroking your arms, your stomach, your chest with a reverence reserved for a marble sculpture. He unzips your jeans, and you shimmy out of them. Sunghoon smirks, then, giving your pink panties a gentle tap. “Nice undies, you cute little shit.”

               Your face reddens. “I wasn’t expecting anything…”

               “I meant it,” Sunghoon says, pulling off his shirt and sweatpants deftly. He tosses them over his couch. Your attention is drawn to his Iron Man boxers and you snort. “Don’t laugh. These were a gift.”

               “Who gifted you this atrocity?” You unhook your bra, putting it carefully next to your shirt.

               As you’re pulling your underwear off, Sunghoon quietly says, “Shay did.”

               Your first reaction should be to blush, to feel ashamed, something that indicates kindness. Instead, you laugh. “Shay has shit taste in more than just men, then.”

               Sunghoon grins, tugging his boxers off and tossing them away. “Is that so?” He grabs your arms and pulls you up so that you’re sitting. You get a glimpse of his cock; the tip is slightly red, but it’s still somewhat soft.

               “I can take care of that,” you whisper, nodding at it. You stretch your jaw out, but Sunghoon touches your chin.

               “Don’t,” he says, “I don’t want you to do that.”

               “You…don’t want me to suck you off?”

               He shakes his head. “No. I can’t make you do that. And don’t bother asking me why, I just can’t.” Sunghoon holds his hand out instead, palm facing up. “Spit.”

               You spit on his hand until he’s satisfied. He works his cock himself, staring straight at you as he does. “Don’t just sit there,” he says, his breath shuddering. So you hold out your hand, and he spits on it.

               You part your legs and rub your clitoris, your other hand fucking your walls. You try to keep your eyes on Sunghoon, but his eyes are squeezed shut in ecstasy. “Open your eyes,” you say firmly. “Look at me.”

               When he does open his eyes, they’re filled with lust. His cock has hardened, and he slows his movements. He teases his reddened tip with his thumb as he watches you play with yourself. “God, you’re hot,” he whispers. “Are you ready?”

               You nod, and he grabs your hips, pulling you into his lap. You’re both sitting, his legs on either side of your body. Sunghoon kisses you one last time before teasing the head of his cock into your pussy, but he’s so hard that he has to press his thumb down to get it inside. Once he’s entered you, you hiss, adjusting to the feeling. “Does it hurt?”

               You get the sense that he’d like it if it hurt. “Yeah, a little.”

               “I’ll be gentle for you, baby,” Sunghoon murmurs, licking at the junction between your jaw and ear. He presses you onto his cock by your hips, getting you used to his length. When your arms wrap around his muscular, lean body, you notice Sunghoon smile widely. Once he’s fucked himself into you, you slowly shift up and down, but he stops you. “Let me do everything.”

               Sunghoon is gentle, his hips working in tandem with him pressing you onto his cock. His nails dig into your soft flesh, and he kisses your neck warmly. You had envisioned sex with Sunghoon more often that you cared to admit, but as your hands slipped down to touch your tender parts, you were imagining something rougher, something animalistic to match his antagonistic personality. But the way he’s treating you now, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, it feels alien.

               “So gorgeous,” he whispers, giving your ass a squeeze. “So perfect. So tight. You feel like a virgin.”

               “So this is what it’s like,” you murmur, reaching your hand down to lazily play with your clit.

               “Hm?” Sunghoon licks the underside of your jaw, his pace staying moderate. It’s as though he’s trying to leave a lasting imprint of himself inside of you. “This is what what’s like?”

               “Making love instead of fucking,” you reply.

               Sunghoon presses you down so that he’s on top of you. He kisses you sweetly, then plants kisses with exaggerated smacks down your body. He swats the hand playing with your clit away, replacing it with his own tongue. “So sweet.” Sunghoon grips your hips, holding you in place. Moans leave your mouth in stutters as he lavishes your clit with attention, sucking it into his mouth before swirling his tongue around the bead. When your moans become ragged, he pulls his face away, licking his lips theatrically.

               “Don’t stop,” you whine, but he places his lips on yours, the taste of your arousal seeping into your mouth. Sunghoon takes your wrists in one hand and holds them above your head. He uses his other hand to guide his angry cock into your pussy again. As soon as he enters it, he moans and his eyes close. “Don’t close your eyes, Sunghoon. Look at me.” Sunghoon nods, biting his lip.

               He thrusts into you slowly, even slower than last time. His pace is almost excruciatingly gentle. His tongue licks at your nipples, sucking them into his mouth. The entire time, he looks directly into your eyes, and his gaze scares you. It’s so caring, you could almost mistake it for affection. The possibility of what could have been gnaws at your insides.

               “Kiss me,” you say desperately. His lips find yours and he devours you hungrily, spit dribbling out of his mouth.

               “I should have run away with you,” he whispers, releasing your hands from his grasp. You hook one leg around his back and press him down onto you; you interlace your fingers with his, clasping your hands together. Sunghoon whimpers and continues fucking into you, picking up the speed. His hips snap against yours, and his balls slap against your thighs. “I should have just left with you.”

               “We were just kids,” you say, moving your hips up to match his movement.

               “You knew what you wanted,” he says. “You asked me to leave with you.”

               The wild look in his eyes, the desperation tinging his voice, the hope dripping out of his mouth prevent you from telling the truth. The truth that running away with him just seemed like the thing to say, that you would never spend your life with a man like him.

               “It would have been great,” you lie, kissing him so he’ll stop talking. Without warning, his cock twitches inside of you and you feel his hot cum spurting inside of you.

               “Shit,” Sunghoon says frantically. “You didn’t get to cum. Shit, shit. Sorry, I-fuck, sorry.”

               “It’s okay,” you say gently, but he’s already plunging two of his fingers into your pussy, shoving his cum up into your tired cunt.  His other finger rubs at your clit slowly and sensually, and you moan loudly.

               “I couldn’t hold it,” he says, “I wanted to finish with you.”

               “It’s okay.” When you cum, you try to moan performatively, tossing your head back. But your little show doesn’t please Sunghoon, who stares at you coldly.

               “You hated that,” Sunghoon says, resting on his knees.

               “I didn’t,” you say reassuringly. You rise from the ground; your knees hardly buckle.

               “I told you to stop lying to me,” he says, his expression like that of a kicked puppy’s.

               You sigh and crack your neck. “I’m going to use the restroom,” you say gently, leaving before he can protest.

               As you take a piss, you think about it. Why was it so unfulfilling? Was it too emotional? Why did he care if you finished so badly? It wasn’t that he was a bad lay, something just felt off. You clean his cold cum off of your thighs, wash your face, and step out of the restroom. As soon as you step out of the restroom, Sunghoon pins you to the wall. His hand presses your shoulders, and his voice is tremulous when he says, “You keep lying to me. Tell me the truth.”

               “The truth?” you sigh. “Fine. The truth is that I didn’t like that.”

               “You didn’t?” Sunghoon’s voice is cold.

               “Yeah.” You reach one hand out, shoving him slightly. Sunghoon’s eyes widen, and you swear you can see his nostrils flare. “It was too soft, too gentle. I hated it.”

               “I thought you would have liked that,” Sunghoon retorts, backing up as you walk towards him.

               “Why? Because I’m such a goody-two-shoes?” You push him again, and his legs hit the bottom step of his carpeted stairs.

               “Yeah,” he says, but there’s a glint in his eyes, and as you advance towards him his grin becomes more of a snarl. “I almost felt bad fucking you because you’re so…nice.”

               With one final push, Sunghoon stumbles backwards, lying naked on his stairs. You hover above him, and you take his cock into your hand. It’s slightly flaccid, which isn’t a problem for you. You tease the head in your folds, coating it with your arousal. You rub it on your inner thighs, introducing his red tip to your clit. Choked whimpers escape Sunghoon’s mouth, and his head is tilted back.

               “Look at me,” you order, and you lightly squeeze his shaft as a warning. Your other hand grabs his hair and forces his head up. His eyes snap open and burn holes into you. You continue rubbing his cock onto your clit, and your fingers slip from his hair to delve into your walls.

               “Fuck,” he ekes out, “stop fucking teasing me.”

               “Or what?” Just to torture him, you ghost his tip over your opening. You don’t expect him to cant his hips up, shoving his cock into you. As you adjust to the change, Sunghoon pulls you on top of him. His hands run all over your body, stroking it, scratching it as he fucks you roughly. You moan loudly, your hands scrambling to find purchase. You dig your nails into his shoulders, not caring that Shay might see the marks you leave behind. That’s for him to explain.

               “There she is,” he says huskily. “I knew there was something in you, but I didn’t know it was a cock-hungry whore.”

               You lightly slap his face, grinding yourself onto his cock. “I’m not a whore.”

               He slaps you back, more of a tap than a hit. “Then why are you taking me like one?”

               You slap him again before mumbling, “Fuck you.” You bring his face towards yours and you kiss, sucking his tongue. He responds by shoving it so far down your throat you choke. Sunghoon pistons his hips up into you, his thighs smacking against yours as he stuffs his cock into you with fervor.

               Sliding off his length, you sit up on him instead. He remains lying down on the steps, squeezing the plush flesh of your ass as you adjust yourself. This time, when he enters you, he doesn’t stop you from riding him. You brace your hands on his strong thighs as you work his cock the way you want. “That’s right,” Sunghoon groans, slapping your ass hard. “Bounce on this cock. Been waiting for this for years.” He spits on his fingers and rubs your clit, causing your whimpers to turn into deep, throaty moans. Instead of his deep, slow strokes, he fucks you quickly, looking for his own pleasure.

               He pushes you off of him and stammers out, “Turn around, now, now.” He helps to spin you around so that your back rests on top of him. In this position, he can grab your tits and play with your clit easily. Sunghoon rests one leg on top of yours as he fucks into you, groaning at the way he’s stretching you out. One of your hands feebly reaches out and holds one of the spindles of the staircase to steady yourself, the other holding his head.

               Sunghoon presses sloppy, wet kisses along your neck, nibbling at the sensitive flesh. “Going to leave you something to remember me by,” he says lowly. “Remember who took this pussy the best.”

               “I’m close,” you stutter out, eyes fixed on his rosy, exhausted face. The heat rising inside of you is leagues different compared to the first time. It sets your nerve endings on fire, it contains all the longing, the confused emotions, the wasted potential.

               “Me too,” Sunghoon says with a low grunt. He slaps your thigh, and you slap his face, harder than last time.  “Kiss me, baby.”

               Your lips meet in a clash of teeth and a tangle of tongues. When you whine into his mouth, he speeds up his abuse of your clit. Your arousal must be soaking into the carpet at this point. Sunghoon’s thrusts grow erratic, frantic, and needy as he chases his own orgasm. His hips shudder, and with a strangled moan of your name, he pumps his cum into you for a second time.

               You cum shortly afterwards, your pussy clenching Sunghoon so tightly he can hardly move his softening cock out of you. You kiss him, savoring the taste of his lips. He wraps his arms around you and holds you so tightly. He kisses your cheeks over and over again, then your forehead, your chin, and finally planting a warm kiss onto your lips. You lie like that for a while on his steps, with his cock resting in you. Your breathing begins to match his, and as you lay on his chest you listen to his heartbeat. It goes from quick to even; you’ll have to leave soon.

               He offers to let you shower, you say no. You want to smell like sex, like him. He calls you a fucking weirdo. You ask him if he ever calls Shay a weirdo, and he says that he treats Shay like a princess. He asks you again if you want to shower.

               Sunghoon watches you gather your clothes. He orders you to leave the bathroom door open so he can watch you clean his cum from between your thighs, splash water on your face, and get dressed. He tells you to do a spin for him, and don’t you dare half-ass it. You spin slowly, and he smiles at you like you’re his.

               He offers to walk you to your car, you say no. You say that it would be horrible if Shay were to come home early from work and see us together, with me smelling like sex. He says that the whole house reeks of sex, and he’s going to have to deep-clean the stairs. You say that he shouldn’t have fucked you on the stairs, and he says that if you don’t get out now he’ll fuck you on the stairs, and on the couch, and on the floor, and in his bedroom, and he’ll die with his cock buried in you.

               You kiss goodbye, and his eyes look haunted. He tells you not to bother texting him, and you say that you weren’t planning on it.

               You stumble to your car, and when you drive away you swear that your town looks different now.

[harunayuuka2060]

Floyd: Azul~ Why don't I see Pufferfishy~? Are they absent~?

Azul: Unfortunately, they informed me that they wouldn't be able to come to work today. Something came up.

Jade: What is it?

Azul: They didn't tell me.

Jade: Are they possibly in Ramshackle dorm right now?

Azul: It could be.

Floyd: Okay~. I'll visit Pufferfishy~.

Jade: I will be coming with you, Floyd.

Floyd: Eh~? No. You stay behind.

Jade: I am done with most of my duties.

Azul: Yes. You can go, Jade.

Jade: *smiles at Floyd*

Floyd: *frowns*

Grim: You should go to the clinic!

Chubby MC: I don't need to. I can do first aid myself.

Grim: But it's turning purple!

Chubby MC: I am fine, Grim. It just needs more ice.

Grim: ...

Grim: Who did it?! Mryah! Why would they do this to you?!

Chubby MC: *sigh*

Chubby MC: I don't want to talk about it.

Grim: ...

Floyd: Pufferfishy~!

Jade: MC? Are you in there?

Chubby MC and Grim: ...

Chubby MC: *quickly hides the first aid kit and stands up* *winces*

Grim: What are you doing?!

Chubby MC: I need to go upstairs.

Floyd: Hm? We know you're inside, Pufferfishy~!

Jade: We're coming in.

Chubby MC: *proceeds to go upstairs*

Grim: ...

Jade: Grim? Where is MC?

Grim: They're upstairs.

Jade: Hm? Are they sleeping?

Floyd: Eh~ Is Pufferfishy taking an afternoon nap~?

Grim: ...

Grim: No. They couldn't move properly because they got some horrible bruises.

Jade and Floyd: ...

Jade: What happened?

Grim: I think some group ganged up on beating them... *on the verge of crying*

Jade and Floyd: ...

Chubby MC: *is on the phone with Azul* Hello, Azul? Can I ask for a few days off? I'm not feeling well.

Azul: Of course. You can take all the days you want.

Chubby MC: Really?

Azul: Yes. And-

Chubby MC: ???

Azul: No. Nothing. And please go to the clinic. Professor Crewel will take care of you. *ends the call*

Chubby MC: ...

Azul: Alright. I have told them to go to the clinic.

Azul: Now, who are we going to eliminate?

Jade: I have their info.

Floyd: Let's go~. I can't wait to squeeze those who hurt Pufferfishy.

Azul: Make sure you two leave no evidence.

Jade: Oh you don't have to tell us, Azul. You don't need to. Really.

[blues824]

My request for the prompt list is what ever you want and who ever you want I'm happy with everything you write and what to see what you want.

I found this cute picture of sebek for you I don't know who drew it but it's beautiful.

If this man does not become our husband in the next 5 seconds @theunknowntravel3r

I requested: Dancing to Christmas Music, New Year’s Countdown, NYE Party

Sebek Zigvolt

Let’s be honest, if you are with him, he probably has told his parents about you. It was his first time being in a relationship with a human, so who better than to ask his parents? That being said, when Winter Break rolled around, they had sent you an invitation to stay at their house for the duration of your time off from school.

The half-fae had warned you to pack heavily and with cold weather in mind, and he even lent you one of his hoodies… totally because you needed it and not because you looked absolutely adorable in it. You also noticed that it seemed that he sprayed some of his cologne on it so that it smelled freshly of him, and your heart melted.

Going through the mirror, the weather was definitely much colder, and you were glad that you were already wearing some extra layers. It was freezing cold. You went to pick up your suitcase only to see that Sebek picked it up for you. His face was flushed red, as he caught you looking at him, but in his mind he blamed it on the cold.

“Sebek, I can get my own stuff.”

“Nonsense! It is a knight’s duty to help a citizen, especially if you are their significant other!” He shouted, not as loud as when he shouts at Ace or Deuce, but definitely louder than necessary. 

So you said bye to everyone as you both headed to the dentist clinic, where you would meet his parents. You were nervous, and he could sense it. To be honest, he was more nervous about you meeting his older siblings, as they were very protective over their younger brother. 

Walking in, you noticed that it was very clean and quiet, probably because they were just locking up the office for the holidays. Upon seeing her son, Mrs. Zigvolt ran and pulled you both into a hug, exclaiming about how it was so good to see you and her son had told her so much about you. Sebek was embarrassed, but it had been a while since you'd felt the warm hug of a mother, so you embraced it.

His father walked into the lobby soon, and waited until his wife was finished with greeting you both so that he could hug his son and introduce himself to you properly. You could definitely see that your boyfriend was a perfect mix of his parents, in both appearance and personality, and it was quite funny to you.

~~~~~~~~

The Zigvolt residence wasn’t anything too grand. It was actually quite comfortable, and you loved everything about it. You got to see Sebek’s room, and you were surprised at how plain it looked. You would have thought that he would have had crocodile-print blankets and pillow cases but no. 

He actually had a bookcase filled to the brim with books, and they were organized by title. A few of them were romance novels that you were grateful to see, as you recognized them from your own world. Shakespeare, the Brothers Grimm, and the Bronte Sisters. 

“Huma- I mean, Y/N, you will be sleeping in here, and I will sleep on the couch!” He announced, setting your suitcase on the bed.

“Why don’t we just share the bed? It’s a king-sized bed, we can both fit.”

“THAT IS IMPROPER, ESPECIALLY BEFORE MARRIAGE!!!” He shouted, face painted a bright, glowing red at the mere thought of doing something so intimate.

“Is it that? Or is it because we’re in your parents’ house? You do realize that we’ve slept in the same bed before back at Ramshackle, right?”

“I-I do realize that!” He said all too quickly, making you laugh.

“Alright, what’s got you so worked up, Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor?” You stepped right in front of him, throwing your arms around his neck and playing with the ends of his hair. His hands instinctively fell to your waist.

You always knew when something was bothering him… and it was something that he both hated and appreciated about you. 

“I have never brought a significant other home before, and I am nervous about how my siblings and my grandfather will take it… especially since you are human,” He admitted, and you could feel his shoulders sag a bit when he mentioned his grandfather.

“Your grandfather was forced to accept your father, wasn’t he? I will force him to accept me. I forced you to, so it shouldn’t be much more difficult than that, right?” You offered him a reassuring smile, and he knew that you could win anybody over. However, his grandfather still did not like his father. “And if he doesn’t, then he’ll love our children.” 

It was lucky that he was half-fae and did not get whiplash as easily as humans do, otherwise his neck would have absolutely snapped with the velocity at which he turned his head to look at you, wide eyes and flushed face apparent.

~~~~~~~~

Over the course of the next few days, you basically stayed in the house. You did stop by the market to meet some of the townsfolk, but it was freezing cold out there. Besides, you definitely preferred seeing baby pictures of your boyfriend over the snow any day of the week. Mrs. Zigvolt was very happy to show you the most embarrassing ones, much to her son’s dismay.

You also helped prepare the house for the upcoming New Year’s Eve party that the Zigvolt’s hosted annually. You were excited to see Silver and Lilia again, but you were sad that Tsunotarou was not going to be able to make it. It would be alright, because you needed to meet Baul Zigvolt as well as Sebek’s siblings.

On the day of the party, his sister was the first of them to arrive. She didn’t live too far away, but the snow made it difficult to get there. She squealed upon seeing you, though, and you made a guess that this generation of Zigvolt’s inherited their mother’s strength when she hugged you.

“YOU MUST BE SEBEK’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER!!!!” She exclaimed in excitement.

“WHO’S SEBEK’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER?!” You heard a man exclaim from the front door. Looks like the eldest son of the family is now present.

“I am! My name is Y/N L/N!” You were not surprised to be swept into yet another bone-crushing hug, but this time you were rescued by another woman who didn’t look like she was related.

“Honey, let them go! They can barely breathe, poor thing…” You shook her hand after being let down, and you noticed the ring on her and Sebek’s older brother’s fingers, making a note that she married into the family.

Lilia and Silver weren’t too far behind, and so the only person you all were waiting for was the grandfather of the family. Lilia tried to reassure you that you would be fine and that Baul would tolerate you, but it still wasn’t any less nerve-wracking. Sebek was in a similar state, not being able to sit still, and when he was sitting, his leg was bouncing.

What did manage to give you a bit of hope was that you were not the only human in the room. Sebek’s father, sister-in-law, and Silver were all there to stand beside you. Of course, the first person mentioned didn’t count, because Baul still didn’t like him. However, the other two were accepted with nearly open arms.

Then, the dreaded knock on the door sounded, making more and more terror sink into your and your boyfriend’s souls. You took his hand in yours, drawing absentminded circles on the back of it with your thumb.

“Where is the human who deems themself worthy to court my youngest grandson?” He said upon entering.

Whatever happened to ‘Hello’? ‘How are you?’ ‘My name is…’?

“I am right here, sir.” You stood up, walking up to him and extending your out to him. “My name is Y/N L/N.”

A moment of silence passed, and you could feel sweat trickling down the back of your neck, but he accepted your hand and shook it, telling you his name in return. The entire group behind you let out a sigh of relief, before the festivities truly began.

And by ‘festivities’, I mean sitting on the couch and talking. This is probably the most ‘unseasoned chicken’ family out there… just saying.

~~~~~~~~

It had been a few hours since Baul had arrived, and it seemed like he accepted you into the family. You were in it for the long haul, but you didn’t mind. Behind the scary facade, he was just a man who was concerned with the wellbeing of his family. You could appreciate that, and now you sat, sitting and listening to his and Lilia’s “glory days” from back in the military.

Sebek was listening with stars in his eyes, and you knew that he aspired to be like his grandfather. He was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on the floor, leaning your head on his leg as you listened along. However, you zoned out a bit, feeling your social battery become low.

Mr. Zigvolt put on a Christmas record on an old gramophone that they kept in the family room, and walked up to his wife.

“Would you like to dance, darling?” He extended his hand out to her, and your heart melted at the sight.

“Why, yes I would.” And so they started to rock back and forth. In their home, they had wedding photos hung up, and they looked as in love as they were back then.

Sebek’s brother and sister-in-law joined them. It wasn’t anything too complicated, literally just rocking back and forth. You smiled, lip-syncing to the words and watching the two couples dance with each other.

“H-Human, would you like to dance with me?” Sebek stood up and held a hand out to you, offering to help you up. Poor baby’s face was flushed red, embarrassed or flustered, or maybe a mix of both. Plus, he was using a soft voice.

“I would like nothing more, my Knight in Shining Armor,” You said with a smile on your face, allowing yourself to be pulled up off the ground and into his chest. Placing your hand on his shoulder and holding his hand with your free one, you both also began swaying side-to-side. 

The song was soft, creating a rather romantic atmosphere in the living room of the Zigvolt residence. Staring into Sebek’s eyes, you could see the pride he felt at his choice of a significant other being accepted by the man he looked up to the most.

“1 MINUTE UNTIL MIDNIGHT!!!” The eldest Zigvolt daughter shouted out. All of a sudden, your beloved knight looked panicked, and you were about to ask what happened when he looked back into your eyes.

“Human, I am aware that I have not been very straightforward with my feelings for the past year that I have known you. I, however, want to take this last minute in the year to express them. I love you, Y/N L/N,” You could here the others start to count down, “And I understand if you do not wish to say it yet at this point in our relationship-”

“3, 2, 1!!!” The others shouted.

Quickly, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, closing your eyes. Your heart was pounding as you felt all the oxygen in your lungs quickly disappear, and when you broke apart from him, you smiled.

“I love you, too, Sebek Zigvolt.”

[adrianasunderworld]

TwstxStardew Valley au!

Yuu inherited the Ramshackle farm from their grandfather. It's located in the little town of Night Raven in the Valley of Sages. Shortly after moving in, they find a cat called Grim. Now it's up to Yuu to restore the farm and town to it's former glory. All the characters are the townsfolk, all the staff are the ones that run the local businesses, and Crowley is the mayor. And all the students are the marriage candidates.

Sam runs the general store, but unlike Pierre he's pretty cool. Vargas is the blacksmith. Trien is the librarian, and his cat hangs out amongst the shelves. Crewel I was thinking we have a new business that is the local clothing store where you can buy the bag upgrade from him and instead of the sewing machine being in Emily's house, it's in the shop. So all that stuff would be in one place.

Kalim as the resident animal lover I can see being the one that sells you your farm animals. Maybe his business is a branch of his parents much larger business that he runs and Jamil is his employee.

I feel like it goes without saying that Idia is the Sebastian here. He's the freelance programmer living in his parents basement, and Ortho Is his kid brother you see running around town that always tells Yuu about how cool his brother actually is.

Silver lives with his veteran dad in their little cottage in the woods outside your farm, they like living off the land out there. I can also see Lilia and Baul as the ones that run the adventurers guild. Maybe the Zigvolt family dental clinic is also in town and Sebek works there. And in that same vein, maybe Mrs. Rosehearts is the town doctor and her son, Riddle, is her assistant. She's planned everything out that Riddle will become a doctor like her and take over the clinic one day.

Epel is still a farm boy here, it feels right, he's in his element in this au. The Felmiers run an orchard on the opposite side of town. His granny used to know your grandpa, and maybe Farmer Yuu can buy fruit tree saplings from them.And of course get a good price on the apple ones.

Deuce is the former town delinquent that lives with his single mom. He's doing his best to turn their life around, he grew out of his old ways and wants to do better. I can see his heart events being about people assuming he's going to cause trouble because of his old habits and Deuce having to prove he's not that little teenage punk anymore. And instead of Idia/Sebastian, Deuce is the one that takes you on the motorcycle date if you romance him.

Mostro Lounge is the equivalent of the Stardrop Saloon, and Azul is th owner with the tweels working for him.

Malleus I can see being the one that lives in the wizard tower in the woods outside your farm. He's studied magic all his life because it's all he's ever known. But he wants very badly to interact with the town and the villagers, but everyone tends to stay away. The only exceptions being Lilia, Silver, and Sebek. That is until Yuu moves in and discovers his tower, and once Malleus helps them understand the Juiminos in the community center, they become better friends.

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

[lyzelky]

I recently received a request for my tiefling headcanons, (also mentioned in this comic) so I put together a ramshackle biology guide for them. It's not 100% faithful to DnD or BG3 lore, but I borrowed enough from them that it's pretty interchangeable.

IMPORTANT: I tried to keep most things as clinical as possible to avoid Tumblr-geddon, but anything vaguely NSFW in the comic has is written in pink text for your convenience.

((CW: Clinical (Non-Graphic) descriptions of Heat/Rut cycles, menstruation, no A/B/O)) I'm also going to copy over all the text from the panels into text format on here so y'all can just read them if you want.

Text version below!

INFERNAL TRAITS

Tieflings possess a variety of features that hearken back to the Hellish influence in their bloodline. Often these traits are animalistic in nature, though in extreme cases may appear more akin to aberrations.

Common features include glowing eyes, horns, clawed fingers and toes, and tails.

Tieflings are inclined to be left handed or ambidextrous.

Less common traits include hooves, paws, or talons for feet, wing like appendages, goat-like ears, a forked tongue, etc.

A Protruding Brow ridge and cheekbones are more common among males. They are considered attractive by some and less so by others, and it seems to crop up in those who are closer to their Infernal sire (I.e, the direct child of a cambion).

Tieflings possess raised ridges on various parts of their body. They can range from boney and firm to soft and fleshy, with the intensity and abundance of ridges varying per individual.

EYE VARIATIONS

The eyes of a tiefling born to two tieflings will almost always have infernal coloring. In this regard, the scelera should be jet black and glossy, and the iris vibrant and produce a strong glow.

The eyes of a tiefling born to humans can either have infernal or mundane coloration. The pupil is usually oblong, but other shapes have been known to occur.

A child born to one tiefling and one human has an equal chance of inheriting either trait.

In both cases, the pupil functions like a cat’s would; narrowing in bright light, and dilating in darkness or while in a state of heightened emotion.

TEETH VARIATIONS

Male tieflings typically have longer fangs than Females. Males are are considered to be more attractive the longer their fangs are.

This attraction is perhaps more hardwired than cultural, as most female (and some male) tieflings are on the receiving end of a bite during their heat.

It is not uncommon to see some tieflings with filed teeth, especially in places where discrimination is common.

TAIL VARIATIONS

The shape of The tail tip (Often referred to as a ‘spade’) manifests in a variety of forms, with some sporting tufts of hair or even fins.

Tiefling Parents might take their newborn to a fortune teller to predict their child’s lifeline based on the spade and other distinctive features. (Longer tail = Longer life, Thin Tail = Weak Constitution, etc.)

Long tails are typically seen as more attractive, but it’s usually down to a matter of preference.

Although their tails are not prehensile, having a dexterous tail is often seen as a sign that someone is more skilled in bed.

REPRODUCTIVE CYCLE

Like humans, tieflings endure a 9-month gestation period, and all other developmental markers remain the same despite most tieflings living upwards of 200 years.

Tieflings differ slightly in regards to ovulation and fertility. Unlike humans, tieflings will experience either a heat or a rut that is the primary driver of their breeding cycle.

Females typically experience their first heat at around 16-18, with males experiencing their first rut at around 18-20.

Unlike a human menstruation cycle, females will go into heat every 2-3 months for 1-2 days at a time, after which menstruation will last for about 4 days.

A rut occurs at roughly the same frequency, but can be triggered early by heat pheromones.

Many tieflings use potions, herbs, or magic items to mitigate their heat/rut cycle, but long term usage is not advised.

During this period, the afflicted experiences heightened arousal and an instinctual urge to breed. Fertility is increased during this period.

Increased production of pheromones signals potential mates that one has entered heat/rut.

Scent glands along the hips, jawline, tail and neck become highly sensitive.

“Tail flagging” may occur, in which the tail lifts and inches over to the side to provide “easier access”.

Heat and Rut Symptoms

A tiefling usually experiences a variety of symptoms in the days leading up to their heat or rut. Primarily the afflicted will notice:

- Increased Fatigue

- Increased body temperature

- Increase in appetite/thirst

- Increased sensitivity to olfactory and tactile senses.

- Mood swings that include irritability, aggression, and anxiety, especially if in an unfamiliar or dangerous location.

Those in heat often feel the urge to retreat to someplace familiar and safe, and often engage in “nest-making” behavior.

This consists of surrounding one’s self in paraphernalia associated with loved ones (Often clothes, pillows or bed linens). A partner will often assist in prepping the nest and gifting appropriate items in a show of support and affection.

Those in rut without a partner tend to withdraw into a solitary location, and often experience bouts of aggression and irritability.

Those with a partner often become exceedingly territorial or possessive, especially if said partner is in heat or is pregnant.

When seeking out a partner, gifts may be given as a show one is a good provider; this is more of a ceremonial practice than a biological one. Gifts often include jewelry, fine clothing, rare artifacts etc.

That's all for now! Let me know if you liked it or not or want more. Feel free to use this stuff for your own stories/fanfics/art whatever, but I'd appreciate if you linked back to this post or my blog if you do. Thanks!

[nakunatta-fujihana]

Yuu Fujisaki ─ An Abridged Biography

─BASIC

FULL NAME: Yuu Fujisaki (藤咲、夕)

BIRTHDAY: January 28th (Aquarius)

AGE: 18 (By the start of Twst)

HEIGHT: 173 cm

DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous

HOMELAND: Tokyo, Japan

GRADE/CLASS: Freshman/Class A (No. 8)

CLUB: Gourmet Club/Light Music Club (Unnoficial)

BEST SUBJECT: History of Magic

HOBBIES: Writing

PET-PEEVES: Responsibility

FAVORITE FOOD: Anything sweet

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Nattou

TALENT: Song-writing

─FAMILY

Hiroshi Fujisaki (藤咲、寛) (Paternal Great Uncle/Deceased)

Nagisa Fujisaki (藤咲、凪咲) ( Paternal Grandfather)

Aya Fujisaki (藤咲、あや) (Paternal Grandmother)

Ataru Fujisaki （藤咲、陽） (Father)

Kanna Fujisaki（藤咲、環花）(Mother)

Kotonoha Fujisaki (藤咲、言葉) (Older sister-6 years apart)

Izumi Fujisaki (藤咲、いずみ) (Future brother-in-law)

Nagihko Fujisaki (藤咲、凪彦) (Paternal cousin-3 years apart)

Kamui Fujisaki (Paternal Uncle) （藤咲、奏紫）

─EXTRA

GENDER | PRONOUNS: Cis Male | He/Him

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual

HAIR COLOR: Indigo

HAIR TEXTURE: 2A

EYE COLOR: Mauve

SPECIES: Human

RACE: East Asian

REALM OF ORIGIN: Earth

NATIONALITY: Japanese

AURA: Purple/Blue

SIGNATURE SCENT: Eucalyptus and Lavender

FAVORITE FLOWER: Orange Blossoms

MBTI: INFJ

FASHION SENSE: Japanese Mode/Casual Punk

NICKNAMES: 

Shrimpy

Wiz kid

Yuu-yuu

Fujisaki Shintarō IV (Stagename)

OCCUPATIONS:

Clinical Psychology Student

Onnagata

Musician

Ramshackle Dorm Prefect

CONDITIONS:

Chronic Bad Luck: No matter how hard Yuu tries to stay out of trouble, he seems to always encounter something to ruin his day. At this point, he is used to his life being the embodiment of Murphy’s Law.

Aphantasia: Yuu has a rare disorder in which he cannot picture things inside his mind. The only exception to this are the dreams he has during his stay at Twisted Wonderland. This makes him completely useless with drawing, painting or any visual art endeavor.

Dust Mite Allergy: Yuu is severely allergic to dust, if exposed to too much of it he can even end up bedridden or trigger an asthma attack.

Nicotine Addiction: Yuu sometimes smokes as a way to relieve stress, and though he does not do it often, he is still in need of at least a cig a week.

ABILITIES:

Renaissance Man: Yuu is naturally gifted. Even though he could’ve skipped multiple grades and entered university at a rather young age, Yuu’s parents opted to only let him skip one grade so he would learn to socialize with children his age. This often led to him skipping class and playing hooky out of sheer boredom.

Musical Experience: After being coerced into his crush’s Light Music Club in High School, Yuu has gained a liking to music─ Yuu is now very proficient in both bass, guitar and singing.

Spirit sight and communication: due to a near-death experience, Yuu has been granted the ability to see and interact with spirits.

Kabuki Training: Yuu was raised to succeed his grandfather as the heir of their Kabuki Troupe and school from a very young age. Due to this fact, he is classically trained in acting, Nihon Buyo, flower arrangement, calligraphy and Shamisen.

─TRIVIA

Yuu’s voice claim is based on vibes and vibes only. He is a mix in between SymaG, Kanseru, Araki and Megatara Zero

Yuu’s favorite artists are Gorillaz, The Oral Cigarettes, Kenshi Yonezu and 9mm Parabellum Bullet.

Yuu is a clean freak, he cannot concentrate if the space he inhabits is dirty or not in order.

On earth, Yuu is part of a relatively popular indie rock band named Schrödinger, he uses a mask and an alias to keep his identity hidden from fans.

Yuu’s favorite anime and manga series is Mob Psycho 100 and Chainsaw Man.

Yuu is a practicing shintoist and extremely supersticious.

─STATS

STRENGTH: ★★☆☆☆

STAMINA: ★★★☆☆

DEFENSE: ★★★★☆

DEXTERITY: ★★★★★

INTELLIGENCE: ★★★★★ +2

WISDOM: ★★★★☆

MAGIC: N/A

VITALITY: ★☆☆☆☆

STEALTH: ★★★☆☆

LUCK: ☆☆☆☆☆

ACCURACY: ★★★★★

SPEED: ★★☆☆☆

[bredrawz]

Do you read any webcomics in Webtoon or Tapas? If so.. which ones?

i read a bit off of webtoon!

hiding a criminal from my dad —tandborste

incanterium— smilestern

ramshackle

jupiter men

clinic of horrors

homesick

survival log

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Friday

It's a little follow-up to Mistaken Identity au, as per the poll results!

The first week "home" had been...stifling. The man purporting to be Jak's father wouldn't leave him alone, always checking in on him, making sure he wasn't pulling at the IV, asking him questions he just didn't have the answers to. The one upside was that Damas had finally brought Daxter to see him. Of course, it had been right in the middle of Jak's fourth escape attempt, which may have been calculated. But considering Jak was pretty sure he was going to lose his mind without Daxter, he'd decided to let it go for now.

For the first hour, neither of them had even spoken. They'd just clung to each other in silence, taking solace in the knowledge that they were both alive, and here. Damas had stood to the side, watching, like he always did. He really hadn't given up on this "I think you're my kid" business. And without blurting out everything he knew about time-travel, Jak couldn't exactly prove him wrong. Frankly, even if he did tell Damas exactly why he was wrong -- namely, that Jak had technically only been born five-ish years ago -- Jak didn't think even that would convince him. He'd probably think it was some near-death hallucination Jak had in the desert.

Daxter wanted Jak to play along; let this new city think they were long lost children returning home. Anything was better than rejection and exile! But Jak just...couldn't. First of all, he was a terrible liar. Tess often told him he couldn't bluff his way out of a paper bag. But even more pressing, it just didn't feel right, repaying an act of kindness with one of deception. Besides, what would they do when they found out it was all a mistake? Better not to get comfortable at the outset.

It was, all in all, a difficult position to be in.

"So tell me why your friend there looks like a river-cat, but has human blood," Damas finally interrupted after close to two hours of watching them sign to each other.

"He has wha-"

"I HAVE WHAT?!"

Daxter bristled and leaped down onto the cot. "Whaddya mean my blood is still human?! How did you even figure that out?!"

Damas was entirely too cheerful when he answered, "Oh, nobody knew what you were when we found you, so we did a blood test. Using the wrong medicine could've killed you, after all. The vet called it a day and went home with a migraine once she figured out all your internal organs are identical to a human's. That's probably why you can talk, I suppose."

Sputtered explanations of Daxter's plight -- talking over each other and around each other, one blaming himself and the other refusing to accept it -- took up the next seven minutes while Damas just listened with a stupid grin. Maybe because it was the most Jak had willingly spoken to him since regaining consciousness.

On the bright side, after learning that Daxter was medically still human, Phobos had brought a pair of pants for him. Maybe they were an infant's button-snap trousers, but the buttons made room for his tail and both boys were grateful for it.

After four days of tortuous boredom and the hated IV, they finally let Jak out. No one had returned his clothes -- it figured, couldn't let him have gear that would help him escape -- so he'd had to shuffle out after Phobos in slightly undersized sandals that pinched his toes. Even with Daxter's enthusiastic and highly colorful commentary on the world outside the clinic, Jak hadn't been prepared for the size of the city around them.

He'd expected something like the Slums of Haven. Ramshackle buildings of sheet metal and broken roads surrounding a few locations of importance. The market district outside of the clinic alone could have fit all of Dead Town quite comfortably, and according to Daxter that was only a quarter of Spargus's true size! Asymmetrical sandstone houses and apartments lined city walls and a network of well-kept walking paths in a variety of levels, many with baskets of colorful fruits, or racks of laundry drying on landings high above the street.

Jak had immediately wandered away from Damas and Phobos, just trying to take it all in. The air was clear -- hot, but clean and free of smog -- and tasted of salt. A child collided with him, bounced off, and continued running as other children gave chase with shrieks of laughter. Jak had never seen kids playing in the street before. Where were the guards? The soldiers? Everyone outside walked with heads held high, calling out greetings, haggling over prices. The marketplace thrummed with life and color and sound, almost overwhelming in its intensity. Haven seemed like a ghost town by comparison!

Jak strayed between vendors' stalls, trailing his fingers along split-rail counters and sturdy awning poles. Daxter leaned eagerly over his shoulder, pointing out all the ammunition and daggers and armor being made. There were piles of metal gems being weighed on scales, traded back and forth, even being set into weapons! City of the hunter indeed. It looked like everyone had gems of their own to pay with. Daxter even swore up and down he'd seen an eight year old with a handful of metalbug gems buying a satchel of seeds!

"Oye! Don't wander off like that, kid!"

Phobos caught him two streets over, peering at a rack of creepy gas masks. She sounded more amused the annoyed, at least.

"See something you like?"

"This place is so crowded." Jak shaded his eyes and tried to guess how many of the people around him were warriors.

Phobos snorted and jostled his arm with a friendly elbow. "This is nothing. You should see the Arena!"

Arena? Like a stadium? The possibility of racing piqued Jak's interest, and he and Daxter exchanged eager glances.

"What's the Arena?" Daxter asked.

It was fairly hard to miss, as it turned out. Phobos pointed them towards a structure built into what looked like a caldera, just north of the market.

"There, that's the Arena: gathering place, courtroom, race track, stage and morgue, all in one!"

Daxter blanched. "What was that about a morgue?!"

Phobos shrugged. "It's built over lava, kid. Citizen candidates have to prove they can survive volcanic activity -- and Marauders, and- well, most desert life, really -- before we let them leave the city. If they don't take it seriously enough: whoosh! Crematorium."

"....ah." Daxter cringed and slid down Jak's back until only his ears were visible over Jak's shoulder. "Hence the age restrictions."

"Hence the age restrictions," Phobos agreed. She gave Jak a little shove. "Hey, if you want to get a look at it, one of our veteran hunters managed to trap a couple metaljackets recently. The Warriors' Guild is giving a demonstration for civ candidates and younger rookies this afternoon. Kind of a "here's what you can be if you don't slack off" thing."

"Ugh. Metaljackets." Jak rolled his eyes. "Not as annoying as Stingerheads, but they're up there."

He paused.

"Do you even have Stingerheads out here? Those stupid things drive me crazy."

"Well..." with a slightly chagrined look, Phobos tiptoed to wave down a slightly dismayed looking Damas, who was apparently questioning some baffled shopkeepers as to their whereabouts.

"I mean. We used to. But then we found out that Leapers really will eat anything they can fit in their mouth. We don't have a Stingerhead problem anymore."

Phobos shooed Jak over to the now relieved Damas. "Go on, I've got work to do. You guys, I dunno, bond or something. Take Jak to see the metaljacket exhibition."

Of course, in the clarity of hindsight, she would regret the suggestion.

There were still a few hours before the event was scheduled to take place, but there were already some people camped out to get front row seats. Damas didn't seem to think that this was a particularly wise strategy, commenting as he led the boys past the stands that the campers would likely run through most of the water they had on-hand while waiting. He paused when he noticed that one of the "campers" was an old man, stretched out on the benches and snoring softly.

"Well. Peat excluded. That guy just kind of does what he wants and manages to survive anyway." Damas tugged at his lip. "Honestly, nobody's really sure how. I mean, the man ate a cobra once because he said if it bites you, biting it back cancels out the venom."

"Does it?" asked Jak.

Damas’s head whipped around to fix wide eyes on Jak. "No! No, absolutely not! He was in the healing ward for days! But he managed not to need the foot amputated and ate the rest of the snake anyway."

Daxter gagged and Jak laughed. "I wanna meet that guy."

Rightly, Damas had a bad feeling about that.

When the exhibition did begin, Jak was a little disappointed. Sure, the long gunstaffs used to keep the metalheads back were cool, but he couldn't see the weapons' details well from the box where Damas usually sat. He leaned over the rail, squinting as one woman used her staff to vault into the air and slash a metaljacket back down to the ground. Daxter, long since grown bored, was scanning the rest of the stadium. Abruptly, he sat up and smacked Jak's arm.

"Hey lookit! It's a Precursor orb!" He pointed to a familiar shape lying on an awning halfway down the Arena walls. "Somebody must've dropped it! I bet we could get that later, huh Jak?"

Daxter looked around.

"...Jak?"

All Jak had heard was "Precursor orb" and the old childhood habits came flooding back. Without a second thought, he slipped over the railing the moment Damas’s back was turned. The metal was almost blisteringly hot, but he ignored it as he climbed down footholds that should have been too small for a human. Getting the orb without falling into the Arena would be tricky, but not impossible. He just had to watch his balance.

Up in the observation balcony, Damas was a little more focused on catching up on some paperwork than on the exhibition below. He tuned out the ottsel-boy muttering in alarm about...something...in order to review a new infrastructure proposal. The faster he got this done, the more time he would have to get to know Jak.

He heard some cries of alarm down below, but ignored them. The rookies would realize soon enough that the Guild had everything under control.

"Hey boss?"

"What, Kleiver?" Damas didn't even spare a glance at his talk-box.

"Er...ain't that your brat, climbing into the Arena?"

"What are you talking about? Jak's right-"

Damas finally looked up.

"...here?"

He dropped the datapad and leapt to his feet. "Oh don't tell me-"

A quick scan of the ring confirmed his suspicions and before he could stop himself he burst out, "JAK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Jak paused and looked up at him from where he was leaning over the awning, orb in hand. He looked down at the orb, frowned, and looked back up at Damas.

"Is...that a trick question?"

"Get back up here before you fall and break your neck!" Damas yelled, gripping the balcony edge with white knuckles.

Behind him, Daxter sighed and shook his head. "Welcome to my world, Spikes," he said sympathetically, "welcome to my world."

[robo-milky]

*yuuna stumbles into the infirmary *

[Ramshackle Clinic]

[grandselfmythologizing]

Villain and Violent, Infant and Innocent; of Asya and Tré— a Ramshackle OC Fanfiction.

Asya. He wanted to reach her, to bridge the yawning chasm of their shared misery, but the action he sought to venture eluded him. Words hovered atop his lips, but they felt insignificant upon mental rehearsal, inadequate against the vast distance that separated them. Are you okay? What are you doing? You’ll get sick like that. What could there even be to say? A trembling hand extended in reach for her, willing himself a few steps nearer, but withdrew upon the slightest distance taken. You have cake on your cheek. Come here, I’ll wipe it off. What modicum of comfort could he provide when he himself was adrift, suspended in the unforgiving reality he scarcely endured? I’ll take care of you.

Crumbling like castles ever gleaming, civilizations proclaimed to be eternal— hubris, is it? Or, desperation?

“God, Asya…” breathed Tre, feigning melodramatic stupor— pressing a hand atop his chest as if a blow had penetrated through his heart in affected gesticulation. Finally, he succumbed to familiarity; what was cruel was infinitely easier. “What a scare. You could have given me a heart attack!”

about anastasia salvador (ramshackle oc insert) pairing ramshackle tré x oc (asya) genre character lore, canon-divergent, angst, the romance with the aforementioned couple is merely an addition tws insomnia, depiction of a a panic attack/mental breakdown, moments suggesting eating disorders, and religious guilt insinuated although never explicitly pictured. please heed said warnings and stay safe.

PART ONE of Indeterminate—

The house was but a husk of a home, a tomb— wholly overcome with a bleak, desolate stillness that preceded every crevice of the manor of lacquered gold. Each broad outline of shadow, cast by the obnoxious, grandiose amenities every room was furnished, stretched long and weary into the oppressive depth of the dark night, their harsh, jagged silhouettes becoming a dark pool in the creaking floors, which succumbed with the slightest oppression of force. Each cautious step Tre ventured was a laborious endeavor, his limbs leaden and uncooperative. Plagued by the gnawing restlessness of insomnia, he hauled himself from bed (which, proved nothing but an immediate regret of departing from his dearly beloved covers) and driven begrudgingly forth by some primal, desperate need for a cheap semblance of gratification, however fleeting or elusive the venture’s fruits culminated.

He wandered through the narrow, shadowed corridors, each embellished corner overcome with a total, inky blackness that seemed to pulse with a life of it’s own. It was as if the very walls conspired to remind him of the bleak night beyond the manor’s sprawling gates, weathered by a storm most penetrating— his existential insignificance in the vast, boundless expanse of the rain’s unforgiving onslaught. He advanced with a kind of mechanical detachment, his mind a clouded haze of half-formed flights of thought and distant memories in dejected recollection, all blurred by the heavy fog of insomnia and lethargy.

He crossed the threshold of the kitchen, where a sterile, clinical luminescence from the refrigerator cut through the darkness with an almost surgical precision. The manor’s opulent evening had been marked by a grand dinner party, which had just concluded hours earlier. The remnants of the festivities lay scattered, a detestable departure from the emptiness it now harbored. The stark blue cast long, sharp shadows, outlining the vagueness of the dark into delineated contrasts and unsettling angles. There, standing bathed in the cold glow, a spectral silhouette against the harsh illumination of the open fridge, perched a dejected Asya, her figure etched in sharp relief against the gloom.

The coveted names in the exclusive guest list was a calculated pick of the most desirable prospects in the current social ecosystem, which of course, encompassed Ramshackle’s Holy Order, and their dearest girl. The extension of the night’s festivities was not intended, but drew out longer than expected, and neither was the weather most penetrating— nevertheless, it proved to be an immense joy to Tre’s mother, whom was most excited to suggest her guests’ extended stay.

Although “dearest”, at the moment, Anastasia did not quite appear. She clutched a slice of a cold, decadent cake with bare hands, it’s wet, saturated grain, moist from it’s refrigeration, apparent even from a distance— her fingers overcome with a fitful tremble against the frigid cold as she held onto it as if her only remaining anchor to reality.

Everyone is standing on shaky ground; teetering on insecurity half-concealed and trembling from the weight of the false identities we cannot sustain upright.

Her eyes were gouged of even the vaguest notion of thought or color, vacant and unthinking— fixed in some vague, indiscernible point in the wistful distance, as if she had slipped from the brutal moorings of reality. The light bathed her in an unforgiving pallor, every shadow of outworn grief marring her gaunt face. A mere statue, frozen in stagnant, desolate contemplation, only, a statue would not have been the picture of pity Asya epitomized— the usual, poised arch of her back hunched and sunken, slumped helplessly over a slice of moist cake in the ceaseless expanse of the dark.

The air was frigid, each breath taken a sharp, icy stab that seared Tre’s lungs. Outside, a storm raged, an unrelenting onslaught that battered against the house as though in zealous effort to wring it apart. The wind howled, the mournful howl of a swift succession of rapid gales— overlapping into one another in a fitful, anguished cry.

Asya. He wanted to reach her, to bridge the yawning chasm of their shared misery, but the action he sought to venture eluded him. Words hovered atop his lips, but they felt insignificant upon mental rehearsal, inadequate against the vast distance that separated them. Are you okay? What are you doing? You’ll get sick like that. What could there even be to say? A trembling hand extended in reach for her, willing himself a few steps nearer, but withdrew upon the slightest distance taken. You have cake on your cheek. Come here, I’ll wipe it off. What modicum of comfort could he provide when he himself was adrift, suspended in the unforgiving reality he scarcely endured? I’ll take care of you.

Crumbling like castles ever gleaming, civilizations proclaimed to be eternal— hubris, is it? Or, desperation?

“God, Asya…” breathed Tre, feigning melodramatic stupor— pressing a hand atop his chest as if a blow had penetrated through his heart in affected gesticulation. Finally, he had succumbed to familiarity; what was cruel was infinitely easier. “What a scare. You could have given me a heart attack!”

Asya remained inert, hardened into stone by the utter sorrow enveloping her— tightening it���s constriction upon every waking moment, until it ensnared and choked, stifling her to total lameness. And much to Tre’s dismay, apathetic to his incessant provocation. The right words, the gentle ones, escaped his lips— shaping instead to the cruel, vain ease of scrutiny.

“Wha— what are you even doing?!” He behested incredulously, the berate of such an interrogation almost akin to those subject to those he apprehended for larceny. Talking to her as if hopelessly caught amidst the scene of an abhorrent crime. “You’re supposed to be asleep, or at the very least, with Father Matthias in the guest bedroom. If he or Mother— scratch that, if ANYBODY caught you in such a state, you’d be in awful trouble!”

“Look at you! You have cake on your forehead! I mean— how does it even get there?!” He pursued tempestuously, pointing to the prominences which he expressed indicated such an offense, apparently to him personally. “Are you TRYING to look pitiful?”

There was an inherent frailty to Anastasia, the susceptibility of both her physical constitution and mental character to total, absolute collapse upon the slightest incitement embedded to the delicate fixtures of her being. Weak, she was. Every sharp utterance, every disagreeable flick of the tongue, merely even a cold, fleeting glance, prompted her to unravel, to the point of ceaseless tears— an abnormal sensitivity perhaps a consequence of the isolation she subject in childhood, and social ineptitude.

“Pick yourself up, Salvador!” He bellowed, coupled with a frantic gesticulation of his arms— wild and ardent. “I mean, honestly—’

And of course, upon Tre’s oblivious barrage of scrutiny and imputation, she succumbed to a heaving rise of her trembling shoulder, and subsequent sob. With great suddenness, a rupture of emotion tears her asunder, snapping like thread strained too far— surrendering at last, to the desperate, clamoring tempest of her heart.

Her face twists in her violent outburst, contorting as her brows furrow in impassioned languish, her eyes aching with the tears restrained unshed yielding to its inevitable flood of grief, and her lips parting agape hitching, gasped curse. Ugly, it was— indubitably so, and she was painfully aware.

“--- how do you possibly think to maintain the provisions you’re bestowed when you’re…you…”

Her hands instinctively endeavor to obscure the maddening red that marred her cheeks upon the discernment of Tre’s gaze laid upon such a scene of her vulnerability. It was then that fervent, solemn sentiment was conceived in her heaving chest. She had witnessed her mother amidst a similar collapse of emotion once before, a single sliver of moonlight enlightening the scene as she infiltrated the moment behind a door parted agape. In her Father’s arms, sniveling most pathetically— enveloped in an embrace, incessant kisses pressed to her face, wet with tears. “It’s okay, darling. I have you, do I not?”

God, could he do that?

“You’re crying,” Tre concluded, indicating the painfully obvious— the perceived monotony and tedium of his attention feeling infinitely more debilitating than the sorrow Anastasia lamented, piercing through the heart.

Please?

“Surely, you’re above such dramatics,” he drawled, the familiar intonation and emphasis of his tone laden with a solid disdain, “there isn’t anybody here to fall for your little shtick. That hateable, poorly conceived act you put on, to procure excessive sympathy. I find it revolting.”

No. No he could not.

“I– I do not—” Anastasia chokes, forcing her utterance upon the vice, imposing grip on her throat, wrecking with sobs with a force that shook her corporal entirety. An accusation she would not allow, the only one. “I– I would never—!”

“Please, Asya. That’s pathetic.”

— End of Part One.

erm…what the sigma !! chat this is kinda funny they’re so pathetic PFTFTFTT ERMMM sorry for making Tré such an asshole I AM GOING BY HOW ZEDDYZI CHARACTERIZES HIM IN HER OLD TUMBLR POSTS ☹️😔😔 obvi their validity in canon is questionable taking into account how they’re like…from 2016… BUT ANYWAY he’s not totally a jerk or won’t be for the entirety of the fic i promise 💔💔 he and asya are just complicated angry stupid teenagers and they are 💕 so precious to me !! part two soon, promise ♡

[lowkeyclueless5137]

Double Isekai Au!

Octavinelle, Savanaclaw and Heartslabyul ver.

Yay! The 2nd part of this long shitpost!

This is gonna be all over the place, because these 3 Yuus are surely something :v

More under the cut!

Octavinelle: Jade and Yu-Yu

Oh this one is a very confusing one... :3

Jade was isekaied before meeting Azul, but still enough time for Floyd to mourn his twin's dissappearance. Floyd And Azul meet and Azul agreed to help Floyd look for Jade. That's how the 2 grew closer, almost like brothers.

Meanwhile, Jade forgot everything, mostly bc the isekai made him hooman (thanks water truck-kun for this U-U). He got picked up by a family, which was a bit old, noting how Yu-yu was around finishing high-school.

So when Jade started high-school, Yu-yu finished college and was ready to open up a clinic. Jade likes to tease they older sibling by calling them 'yo-yo'. He even has a yo-yo and knows some tricks with it.

Also he's a punk in here... Lots of piercings and chains... He even tripped more than a few times because of them. Yu-yu did make fun of him in true sibling fashion. :'D

Yu-yu and Jade also get in 'manipulation wars'. It's this tired young adult therapist against a sly teenager. They come to a comune agreement over mushrooms, which is the thing Yu-yu introduced Jade to and mainly their bonding activity.

During their adventure in twst, Yu-yu really banks on the fact that they are a lycensed therapist to just get crow man to give them a salary and some place to stay. Meanwhile, Jade gets in all types of shenanigans, but by the end of the day, he still stays in Ramshackle with Yu-yu and Grim.

Also Yu-yu is quite the flamboyant and dramatic person in private. Jade didn't pick that up, but it's a thing he actually enjoys to walk in onto, just to see Yu-yu making an awkward half assed excuse for it. :'3

Savanaclaw: Leona and Yuun

Leona was, of course, Isekai since he was a baby and of course, truck-kun blasted this one as well with the 'now you are looking like a normal hooman'.

And Leona had a pretty normal childhood family wise. A chess prodigy, with numerous awards won and still he's going into tournaments. A good sportive, but never went pro, rather he became a high-school sports teacher and trains the football team along with the gymnastics and boxing students who want to go pro. Very petty and tells the students to never give up on their goals, otherwise everything will be in vain.

In here, Yuun is the neighbour's kid. Leona was a young adult, who moved out of town for his college studies and, later, teaching career and Yuun is just a kiddo who drops by his lawn to say hi. Yuun is around 9-10 years old and a bundle of energy. Leona is the one who taught the kid a few football tricks, since Yuun sees him as a 'sports pro' and wants to be a football star. Leona teaches the kid the gist of it, but mostly once he's tired, the 2 go in the house and play a few rounds of chess or watch shit on TV.

Because of this, Leona is good friends with Yuun's parents as well. A quite young couple, but nonetheless they do leave Yuun at Leona's place when they can't be home due to their jobs. Leona quickly became a good family aquitance.

So the Isekai happens in traditional fashion, of course. :3

The thing is, the mirror acknowledged the fact that Leona was a young adult and Yuun was a literal 10 years old. It also recognised Leona's dormant magic and since the child(Yuun) needed a place to stay and be cared for while Leona and Crowley find a way back to their original world, Crowley allowed the 2 to stay in Ramshackle.

Grim is mostly Yuun's 'kitty cat'. Yuun likes Grim a lot. Grim would like to not be strangled by a 10 year old. :'3

Cue many shenanigans. And Leona's new signature line 'this place is full of idiots'. U-U9

Heartslabyul: Riddle and Yuuneka

No, not my yuusona... This one is someone else.

In here, we will have, probably one of the oldest Isekai(besides Jamil): 6... At 6 years, Riddle was Isekaied. Which means the damage was done already. But still, there was room for fixing. And that's what Yuuneka is here for. :3

Yuuneka is a kindergarten teacher, an aro-ace woman and a very distinguished lady, despite coming from the countryside. She has a lot of love for kids, so when she found poor Riddle, her heart couldn't let her leave the boy to an orphanage. It took a bit to convince him about the reality, but even so, she adopted Riddle and was ready to be the best mom there could be.

The grandparents also played a big part in shaping Riddle. The grandma was a sassy, no shit taken, woman. She is a bit of an aggressive diplomatic, but she gets the job done. She's a bit hard to convince on things, but she has the spirit. Meanwhile, the grandfather is the 'back in my day' man. He has all kinds of stories, be it from his time in the army or other stories he tells to Riddle. He has old letters and photos he also shows. Since he was a retired prosecutor, he has all kinds of wacky stories to tell. And because the 2 were a bit leaning into their old age, Riddle helped around the farm, being quite aquinted with gardening and chickens. They also have a pig, but that one actually Riddle can climb on it at how small he is. :'3

He even has a small patch of strawberries he takes great care of. When they are done, he takes them to grandma to make for him her famous strawberry tart, Riddle's favorite dessert.

Yuuneka also sews. It's a hobby picked up from her own grandma and she likes to make small things in her free time. She taught Riddle how to patch up clothes and a few stitching techniques.

Riddle is an overachiever. In the back of his mind, still he can hear the voice of his previous mother telling him to study and study. So constantly studying had to be a habit hard to break out of.

A hilarious thing Yuuneka finds about her son is that there was a stray cat who kept getting into their apartment(in the city) and Riddle would try is utter best to get it out, only for the cat to come back in again. It was a cycle, until Yuuneka filled in the proper papers and now the cat was apart of their lil family. Riddle named it Cheesecake, because of the white and bread-ish color of the fur, which reminded Riddle of a cheesecake. :3

So all 3 of them get Isekai. You can imagine the chaos cheesecake stirrs up with Grim. :'3

Again, since Riddle was the son and Yuuneka was presumably the one summoned, Crowley had to put all 3 of them in Ramshackle. It's funny, because this Yuu is a kindergarten teacher... And somehow her methods work wonderfully on those teens.

Also skirts galore! Yuuneka knows how to sew a lot of skirts(must fulfill her own needs in dressing), and the patterns can vary depending on what material she finds.

And with this, we finish the premises/summaries of all the double isekai! Sure, you can still use your own versions of yuus to fill in the roles, but this is my take on them and their lil quirks. :3

Welp... have fun with this!

[harunayuuka2060]

MC, Grim, Ace, and Deuce: *on their way to Ramshackle dorm*

Ace: Are you still dreaming about those kids?

MC: No. It had stopped the other day.

Deuce: You must be able to sleep now without worrying about it.

MC: But there's something really bothering me...

Grim: Hm? Hey, hench-human! Look at the sky above Ramshackle!

Ace: Whoa! It's like the heaven's opening!

Deuce: Hm? Do you see something that's falling out of the sky?

Ace: Must be birds.

Grim: But they look like babies to me.

MC: ...

MC: *felt a sudden rush of adrenaline and sprints*

Ace, Deuce, and Grim: Prefect!/Hench-human!

MC: *had caught the kids in time*

Deuce: A-Are you alright, Prefect?

Ace: Don't you think you need to go to the clinic?!

MC: I'm fine... It's just my back that hurts...

The kids: Mama! *looks extremely worried of them*

Grim: Why are these kids calling you Mama?

Ace: Wait... Aren't they—

Deuce: The kids in the sketches!

Malleus: *has rushed to Ramshackle dorm after receiving the news*

Malleus: *seeing the children*

The kids: ...

Malleus: What are your names?

The kids: *looks at each other*

The boy: Baby bean.

The girl: Dumpling!

Malleus: Baby bean and Dumpling...?

MC: I have that reaction too when they told me their names.

Baby bean: That's not our real names because we aren't born yet...

Dumpling: But we're here to help Mama!

MC: Help me...?

Baby bean: *nods*

Dumpling: We're here to help Mama choose another husband!

Malleus: What...? Choose another... husband?

Ace: Oh boy.

Deuce: I feel like this is a serious family matter.

[tieflingkisser]

'Where do we go?' Palestinians flee parts of Rafah after Israeli military order

Palestinian civilians rushed to flee parts of Rafah on Monday after the Israeli military told some 100,000 people to leave the southern Gaza city, a possible signal that a long-feared ground offensive could be imminent. The evacuation orders were delivered in leaflets that poured down onto eastern Rafah as rain soaked its crowded streets and ramshackle tents. “They called us this morning and told us to evacuate the area. Where do we go?” Adham Khalil, who lives in eastern Rafah, told an NBC News’ crew on the ground in Gaza, one of several residents who described a night of intense bombardment followed by fear and uncertainty prompted by the order to move again. After a night of “shooting, clashes all night and missiles,” Khalil said, his family did not know where to turn. He said he wanted to be assured that a “safe corridor” would be open for them to evacuate. Others quickly heeded the call. Families packed their cars and trucks with the few possessions they still had after seven months of war and embarked on what was for many just the latest displacement. Others could be seen driving north, the roofs of their vehicles stacked with mattresses, bundles of blankets and other essentials.

[...]

The evacuation order followed a Hamas attack launched from Rafah on Sunday that the IDF said killed four Israeli soldiers at a border crossing, though the IDF would not say whether its operation Monday was a response. The militant group said in a statement that an attack on the city “will not be a picnic” for the Israeli army. Some analysts speculated that the evacuation orders for eastern Rafah might represent another negotiating tactic in cease-fire talks. But their impact was not in doubt for residents of Rafah. “They told us to evacuate, and here we are doing so,” said Mahmood Wahba as he prepared to flee for the city of Khan Younis, near Al-Mawasi. “We hope that God will bring us goodness, God willing,” he said as he and his family loaded a car with their possessions. Wahba said his family had heard of the order on the internet, while the IDF had also spread its message through air-dropped flyers, text messages and loudspeakers.

[...]

Samah Hadid, a spokesperson for the Norwegian Refugee Council, said she feared the evacuation orders were the “start of the nightmare scenario that we’ve been dreading for months.” “We’ve been warning against a military operation in Rafah because the consequences will be deadly and devastating for the over 1 million IDPs in the area,” Hadid said in a phone interview early Monday, using the acronym for internally displaced persons. Hadid also warned that she did not believe the Al-Mawasi area was equipped for a mass influx of people, despite Israel’s assurances that the expanded humanitarian area would include “field hospitals, tents, increased quantities of food, water, medicines and additional supplies.” Hadid called on the Biden administration to “use its influence and leverage over Israel” to block any military operation in Rafah.

[...]

Abdallah Abujaser, a 22-year-old who had been studying clinical psychology before the war, said that he was just outside the evacuation zone — but feared he, too, would soon be forced to leave. “Everyone here is worried and afraid,” he said. Abujaser said he and most others in Gaza are also exhausted as they weigh fleeing once again or facing Israel’s offensive, which local health officials say has already killed more than 34,700 people. Israel launched its assault on Gaza following the Hamas-led Oct. 7 attacks, in which some 1,200 people were killed and 250 others taken hostage into Gaza, according to Israeli officials. Abujaser called on countries around the world, including the U.S., to do what they can to “stop the war on us.” “We are not running away from fear. We are running away for life, to secure our lives,” he said.