#stupid apple fox

[cloverstellar]

they’re so cute I’m gonna puke

[bazilthyme]

reaching out, pulling away. ✨juicebox✨

[theangryhistoriananna]

I think one of the most interesting and overlooked moments between Lucien and Feyre is when they are escaping to Night through Autumn and they have this exchange:

"They didn't like you?" His jaw tightened. "As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn't particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I'd be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting.....I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too." He eased to his feet with a groan, his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow. "I'd say that sounds more High Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son" A long, steely look "Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?" Despite myself, a shudder rippled down my spine. I finished off the apple and uncoiled to my feet, plucking another off a low-hanging branch. "Would you want it-your father's crown?" "No one's ever asked me that," Lucien mused as we moved on, dodging fallen, rotting apples. The air was sticky sweet. "The blood-shed that would be required to wear that crown wouldn't be worth it. Neither would its festering court. I'd gain a crown-only to rule over a crafty, two faced people." "Lord of Foxes" I said, snorting as I remembered that mask he'd once worn. -ACOWAR (page 106)

I feel like this exchange is telling us a lot about who Lucien is. Honestly I think people should pay a lot more attention to the entire escape from Spring chapters than they do, because I think Lucien is being his most honest and open and vulnerable with Feyre than he ever is in ACOTAR and the rest of the series.

But this exchange is particularly interesting.

Lucien was allowed to learn sword fighting for as long as he liked. Feyre mentions that Lucien prefers to use his words over his swords, but this shows that Lucien has studied swordplay extensively and that he only stopped because he grew bored with it (along with studying). We know Lucien is alot more handy with a sword then he often lets on-Feyre also notes she's seen him training with Tamlin in Spring before, with the insinuation that she found him to be able to hold his own with a High Lord that was raised in the war camps. This also is led credence by the fact that Lucien was able to behead Hyburn's niece who was over a thousand years old and had fought in the original war, cutting through her neck in a single strike. He was also able to dodge Hybrun's nephew. And in the infamous frozen lake scene, Lucien is noted to be fighting two brothers at once, and has somehow wrested a sword. Just because Lucien is uninterest in fighting in another war, and just because he seems keen always to avoid using violence to solve problems, that doesn't mean he's not dangerous when he chooses to be.

Lucien's brothers saw him as a threat despite him also saying "no one thought I would be stupid enough to try and kill my way up the long list of heirs". Lucien had won the love of the people, and that scared his brothers enough that they wanted him not just dead but ruined.

Lastly Lucien's retort to Feyre's question about his father's crown has always kind of piqued my interest. He seems almost surprised "No one's ever asked me that" and then he doesn't immediately disavow ruling. He ponders her question, and then replies that no, Autumn court has no appeal to him. But his reply, alongside with the fact that he never refutes her statement that he acted like a High Lord in his youth could have some interesting implications about his own ambitions.

I do think it's obvious Lucien plays down alot of what he is. He doesn't even use magic all that much, outside of healing and winnowing, and as mentioned above he only uses violence as a last resort and even then he may downplay how skilled he is.

SJM has been showing us in little glimpses that there is waaaay more to Lucien, and has also been showing us that everyone keeps overlooking him when they shouldn't. Feyre thinks Cassian could knock Lucien on his ass, and yet we see she was wrong about Cassian when Lucien high lord commands and dominates him as easily as breathing. They send Lucien off on a suicide mission in lands deemed too dangerous for even the strongest High Lord in Prythian history and never stop to truly think about the fact that Lucien made it through those lands and completed his mission. Lucien slips out to the library shortly after arriving in Night Court and later we find out he's pulled one over Rhys and Feyre without them even considering being suspicious of him or his motives.

There is so much to his seemingly "side character" and I can't wait to hear more about the Lord of Foxes.

[sare-nim]

A UNFORGETTABLE MESSAGE

Tw:eating disorder described

Pure Vanilla cookie is stupid—no actually naive is the best fitted word for him. It's a bad trait because he's your master. You had to do a lot to protect him because of his foolish decisions…his kindness and foolish ‘non judgemental’ mind makes you want to cry out in pain. He has to judge to make sure he's talking to some cookie who's okay, not a murder cookie–eating cookie!

You're a fox, a very fluffy cute fox in Pure Vanilla Cookies eyes. Also a very well behaved one at that. You were so protective too! So cute he remembers how you jumped at a cookie who tried to scam him. He knew what the cookie was doing but how can he not act along with it? Just to see you protect him gives his sugary heart a warmth he rarely feels.

He knows it's foolish but it makes him feel good to know his pet cares for him. Sometimes he takes pity on himself. How can he be so…pathetic? So pathetic that he has to test if his pet still loves him or not?

He can't help but sigh at his useless thoughts and feelings. Why must he feel this way when he has his dear friends? He shakes his head trying to throw those thoughts away from his mind.

He doesn't need this right now. He needs to distract himself.

You noticed that your master has become a bit blank. He has started to enter this state of working—sleeping nothing else. Like a blank state, like a robot who has been powered on and tasked to just work and not live.

You were getting worried but you didn't want to expose yourself. You didn't want him to treat you differently after knowing your actual a cookie that just hides in the form of a fox. What if he throws you out!? You don't want that. So you started to plan—you needed a good one. One that will give him a good message and make him think twice before doing such a thing again.

It started as not a big thing in Pure Vanilla Cookies eyes. You must have gotten bored of your food. That's why you weren't eating—you have done this before. So he just got the servants to switch the food into another type when that didn't work–panic started to hit his sugary heart and mind. Were you sick? Did you get poisoned? Did you eat a berry and get sick? No you're smart of course you wouldn't eat such a berry! You haven't been acting sick either.

He as a healer wanted to help you himself but he isn't very knowledgeable about animals. So he immediately went to check with a cookie who's knowledgeable in this field making sure to bring you with him. After the check up.

The cookie said nothing helpful. You weren't sick or poisoned like he thought. You were just not eating food…the poor cookie confused only suggested changing the food. They had no solution as there's nothing wrong with you. Nothing stopping you from eating.

Pure Vanilla Cookie felt very worried. He started trying to feed you himself even using a spoon! You still didn't eat. This made him more worried you never refused something he hands you.

He dropped the spoon on the feeding bowl. He felt tired out, maybe the eating habits it's getting to him. His body started to feel a bit heavy, his stomach crying out too hard for him to ignore. He gently lets go of your small body.

He got up from his seat on the ground behind you—to approach a fruit bowl placed on the cafe table in the middle of his office. He took an apple and took a bite of the fruit. A chewing sound followed his making him turn to look at you. His eyes winded filled with delight as he sees you chew on a piece of meat while looking at him. After he finished chewing he placed the apple down only for you to raise your head from the feeding bowl.

Making him freeze up in response. His eyes now look at you with confusion. He looked at the half eaten apple placed on the fruit bowl. He took the apple in his skinny tan hand. His hands used to be a bit plumper and now are worryingly skinny reflecting his poor eating habits.

He raised the apple to his mouth, taking another bite out of the fruit while looking at you. You were looking at him too while leaning down taking a bite out of your food at the same time. He felt his eyes burn, his lips trembling as he took another bite of the apple with you following his lead, continuing to eat your food.

He didn't know why he was crying. Was he sad? No really he felt overwhelmed by the feeling of glee. You cared for him so much…he remembers how Dark Cacao Cookie told him to not get too attached to you. You were just a pet. One that will leave his side If you see him as unworthy of your attention—but you keep proving him wrong over and over again.

He just continued to eat while ignoring the tears rolling down his cheeks. After finishing the apple he took another fruit to eat from the bowl. He ate a peach next.

He can't have you stop eating. Your health is at risk. You however felt pleased—he got the message. You kept your eyes on him only stopping your feast after he finished everything in the fruit bowl. He looked at you ignoring the tears to watch you swallow the last bite of your food.

He felt full–after eating everything in that bowl. His stomach once empty now filled and his body satisfied from this act. He raised his hands wiping away the tears on his face to approach you. Taking your body in his arms once again now to spoil your face with kisses.

“My little one…” He said between shaky breaths his trembling lips pressing against your head while his hand stroked your fur.

“You sacrificed your hunger for me…I'm sorry for worrying you so much that you had to do such a thing.”

You wanted to sigh at his apology. One would expect a scolding but the cookie seems too touched to do such a thing. Well right now at least.

He pulled away to wipe his tears away from his face once again. You leaned up licking the salty drops away from his face, making him smile softly. “My friend…my dear Y/N…”

He truly can't ask for a better companion in his meaningless life.

[jflemings]

emily fox + 13) finding a stranger to kiss as the ball drops

— kissing strangers

emily fox x reader

ficlet

from the new years prompts

you tuck your nose further into your scarf to fight the cold pinching at your nose, the navy blue garment providing some warmth to your cold-bitten face.

beside you, your best childhood friend grips your fingers tighter. she had decided to accompany you to new york for the new year after you and your ex split, insisting that it wasn’t worth to waste a trip you paid for.

she never liked your ex girlfriend. said she was too high maintenance, that she looked down her nose at everyone with a kind enough smile to get away with it. always told you that she had wandering eyes, even if you were too blind to see it.

and well. yeah. sometimes you hated when she was right. had since you were kids.

her mother joked that she could sniff out a bitch like a dog sniffs out a bomb.

now though, she knocks your shoulders together and smiles big. her eyes crinkling and twinkling under the lights of times square, her cheeks pink with winter “if you’re looking at me the whole time, how are you going to find a hot stranger to kiss?”

“you’re looking at me” you roll your eyes but avert your gaze to the crowd around you anyway. it’s a stupid bet, really, and one she’s made with you in an attempt to broaden your horizons when it comes to people you’re romantically interested in.

she’s managed to find a nice enough looking guy. tall-ish, brown eyes, brown hair that kinda swoops across his forehead. he’s got an accent — from what you can hear. she keeps a tight grip on your hand as she bats her eyelashes in a way that’s definitely going to get her what she wants.

your eyes fall to a wine red coat and a head of brown hair, sharp features and light eyes. the couple that she seems to be with is caught up in themselves, leaning in close to whisper in eachother’s ears and giggle quietly.

her smile doesn’t reach her eyes until she sees you. going from something small to something that makes her eyes squint slightly, making the apples of her cheeks pop. you nod back towards your friend and roll your eyes playfully ‘look at us. in the same boat’.

the stranger returns your gesture and steps closer towards you “couples, right?” she says lightheartedly.

“these two are strangers actually. she’s making good on a bet we made”

the countdown starts.

TEN

“a bet? what kind of bet”

NINE

“whoever kisses a stranger at midnight gets a hundred bucks and bragging rights” you shrug.

EIGHT

she tilts her head curiously “and what about you? got a stranger to kiss?”

SEVEN

“er. no, actually”

SIX

her fingers graze your arm “can’t have that, can we?”

FIVE

“no, i guess not” you say back, turning away from your friend, eyebrows raised and cheeks pink in a way that’s not from the cold.

FOUR

“you wanna be a hundred dollars richer?”

THREE

your mouth runs dry “you gonna help me?”

TWO

“if you want”

you want. so badly you want.

ONE

your hands grasp her face delicately and you briefly register how warm her skin is under your fingertips. you don’t waste time — not when this pretty stranger has given you an opportunity.

she slides her hand around the back of your neck, cupping the base of your skull as she draws you in. you can taste coconut on her lips as she kisses you — sweetly at first, before running her tongue along your bottom lip — the flavour intoxicating and addicting. you didn’t even really like coconut before this.

the confetti drops whilst you kiss her, the feeling of her lips on yours drowning out the noise and excitement of the crowd around you. your hands on her jaw pull her in further, allowing her to deepen the kiss even more. her hair tickles your cheeks where it’s fallen over her shoulders.

when you part, she smiles at you and swipes her thumb over your bottom lip, pulling slightly before resting her hand on your face.

“i’m emily” she says as the confetti falls around the two of you.

“y/n”

HAPPY NEW YEAR

[jeankluv]

The tale of the fox and the knight - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 02

summary: You have been living all your life in almost isolation due to your true nature, one your parents want to hide and protect you from anyone finding it. But when the spring of your 20 year your parents grant you the wish of being able to walk around the city, you meet him. Your doom. Satoru Gojo, a white haired knight whose intentions in your eyes are unkown. And whose presence in your life will change everything, from how you see the world to your way of being.

words: 4,9k

tags: enemies to lovers, blood, eventual smut, Gojo is pretty rude at the beginning, Gojo ooc, betrayal, fantasy, magical creatures, angst, injuries, heavy language, no use of y/n or minimal use of y/n, female protagonist

Warning for this chapter: it contains kidnapping and violence

notes: it’s been so long, but until last week I wasn’t done with exams, fortunately, if nothing happens I will be able to be more active bringing more chapters soon. If everything goes well Birdie next chapter will be out soon too.

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

— sorry for any typo that could be —

You felt your body numb, your limbs hurt and your body was leaning on something hard and cold. You were completely frozen.

Your eyes began to open slowly, the sun was not very high but you could see your surroundings clearly. You were in a forest and a little to the left there was a river that accompanied the sound of birds singing.

“Scream and I will cut your tongue.” You trembled when you heard those words.

Turning your head you saw the figure of a man dressed completely in dark colors, a cape covering his hair and a face mask, you could only see his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw them clearly.

“Satoru?”

What was happening? Why was Satoru dressed like that? Why did he tell you that?

You tried to move, trying to reach him but it was then when you noticed. Your hands were tied together.

“What…?” You said looking at them.

“You can try to get loose, but I highly doubt you’ll be able to undo the knot I’ve tied.” Satoru moved from where he was and approached his horse.

The morning breeze seemed much colder and sharper after hearing those words. “What do you mean?” Your voice came out trembling from the back of your throat. “Satoru, this isn’t funny. Untie me! We must return to the castle and find out what happened.”

Satoru chuckled. “I thought you were smarter, I guess I was wrong and you are just a stupid princess.”

Everything started to crumble, you felt how your world started to shake as Satoru’s words hit you right in the face.

“I don’t trust him.”

Utahime told you. She warned you, but you didn’t pay attention to it, you just ignored it.

Your hands clenched, wrinkling your dress, the dress Utahime had worked so hard to make. Now it was dirty, torn, and you didn't know if Utahime was okay, if your parents were okay, if everyone in the castle was okay…

“Was it you?” You said, not looking at him, not wanting to see his face.

Say no, say no please.

“Yes.” The dagger dug deeper into your heart.

You pressed your lips together tightly, digging your upper teeth into your lower lip, so much so that you could taste blood entering your mouth.

Your gaze lifted to look at the person in front of you.

Satoru smirked, this was not the princess he had known. That look you were giving him could bury him alive, but Satoru didn’t care.

“They are alive?” You whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

Satoru dropped to the ground, and crossed his legs, while biting into an apple. “Who knows.”

“You are…” But your words were left flying in the air.

“I am what?” He raised his chin arrogantly. “Come on, talk.”

“A monster!” You yelled. “Soon they will find me and… and they will catch you and you will pay for everything!”

“And when will yours pay?” You heard him murmur. “That won’t happen.” He then said with his normal tone. “Now change to these clothes.” He threw a bunch of clothes to your side.

You looked at them, they were a similar colour to his clothes. “No.” You said. “I’m not changing. I won’t go with you or follow your orders.”

Satoru sighed and scratched his forehead, irritated by your words. “Would you rather I take off your dress?”

Your face paled slightly and you swallowed hard. His voice sounded so different from what you were used to that it was almost scary. “No… I’ll do it…” You said, grabbing the clothes and holding them against your chest. “But… it’ll be a little difficult to do it with your hands like this.” You looked at your tied hands and then at him.

Satoru looked at your hands and stood up from where he was, your heart racing when he pulled out a dagger from one of his side pockets. “Don’t try to escape, bunny, or I’ll hunt you down.”

“I won’t.” You tried to sound as firm as possible. “But turn around.”

“Don’t worry bunny. I’m not interested in you at all.”

You shouldn't have felt anything after hearing those words, because the man before you had betrayed you in everything, but they still hurt.

The rope fell and you carefully got up from where you were. Satoru turned and walked to his horse with his back to you. You walked a little further, far enough to find a sheltered place where you could change.

You needed a plan, something to escape. That man was not the one you had known for 5 months, you couldn't think of the possibility that through your words he would change.

His gaze told you that it wouldn't happen, that you shouldn't even try. The blue, which reminded you so much of the paintings of the sea, was no longer there. Now it was a dark blue, dark like a stormy night.

Utahime's dress fell to your feet and a small sob escaped from your lips. You didn't want to cry, you didn't want him to see you shed a single tear, you wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

The icy cold of that morning hit your skin and you quickly put on the clothes that he had thrown at you. They were dark clothes, suitable if you wanted to go unnoticed. The fabric looked worn and was not very warm. With that outfit you would be unable to survive the Zerua winter.

You turned around noticing how Satoru was still with his back to you, caressing his horse. Grabbing Utahime's dress in your hands and wiping away a few tears, you walked towards him.

“You done?” He turned around, giving you a brief look through your hold body, stopping on your red hair.

With a few steps he was inches away from you. “What…?”

“Your hair… It’s too conspicuous. Something needs to be done about it…” He tangled his finger in your lock of hair. Your eyes met his.

Why couldn’t this be a nightmare? You wanted to wake up in your room and see that it had simply been a bad dream, that Satoru hadn’t stabbed you.

“What are you thinking, bunny?” You heard his voice and you snapped, hitting his hand away from your hair.

“No, leave my hair.” You said holding the lock that was on his hands before.

“Bunny, you have two options…” He showed his two fingers. “Or you dyed it or you cut it.”

“I’m not doing any of that!” You told him with anger.

He sighed. “You want me to chose?” He got closer to you. “No, right? So chose.”

You bite your lip with anger. “I’m not doing what you tell me.”

“You want me to get angry, bunny?” He moved and you walked a step away till you hit a tree. “I’m being nice letting you choose.”

You held your breath as you looked at his eyes, how was it possible he faked his own personality so good during those 5 months? Everything he showed you was just play? Was that the real Satoru?

Before you could say a single word, Satoru’s big hand covered your mouth, preventing you from saying anything at all. His gaze sharpened, and you could feel his body tense up.

He was nervous.

It was then that you heard some voices, getting closer and closer. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you knew they were coming towards you.

Maybe that was your chance, you could ask for help. Go home.

Determined, you grabbed Satoru’s hand and pulled it away from you. “Help!”

Satoru covered your mouth again and his voice came out hoarse from his throat. “Shut up.”

Satoru’s grip tightened as he looked at you and you felt scared. But you couldn’t stop there, that might be the clearest way for you to run away from him.

Clenching your fist you hit Satoru in the ribs, the moment he loosened his grip you hit him in the chin causing his grip to disappear completely.

Given that opportunity you ran in the direction of the voices, you needed to get there as soon as possible. You could go back home, to your parents, to Utahime, to everyone. Your feet moved quickly, getting closer to your destination.

You pushed aside a few branches when you found yourself face to face with about five men. Their clothes indicated that they were not from the royal guard, they were disheveled.

“Please, I need help.” You spoke after a moment of falling silent.

The men looked at each other and then one of them smiled. “Of course, what's wrong?”

You looked back, looking to see if Satoru was nearby. “A man kidnapped me. And… I need to go home.”

“Did he kidnap you?” He smirked, making your skin crawl.

“Boss, look at her hair!” One of the men said excitedly.

“It’s red!” Another exclaimed, looking at you.

“How much do you think they’d give us for her?” Another asked.

“With that hair color? A lot for sure.” The last man finally spoke.

Your heart rate began to rise rapidly and you took a step back. You had escaped from the claws of a ferocious eagle only to fall into the mouth of a pack of wolves.

The group began to approach and when you tried to run away, one of them grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the ground.

You couldn’t help but sob at the pain and fear you were feeling at that moment.

“Tie her up.” The sturdiest of them all spoke. “And don’t make a single mark on her, you know the price will go down if she has a scratch.” He grabbed your face as he looked at you.

You broke free from his grip but the one holding you shook you, causing you to whimper. You closed your eyes tightly as you prayed for that moment to pass quickly and for someone to appear and help you.

The voices of the group of men mixed with the sounds of nature. But that peace was interrupted when a child pierced your ears.

Your eyes widened and you watched as one of the men lay on the ground, dying in pain.

“Bastard!” You heard another scream.

It was then that your eyes saw him, the white hair that reflected the faint rays of sunlight that passed through the branches of the trees.

Satoru was there, he looked much larger and creepier, so much so that it made you shiver when his gaze met yours. It almost seemed like his eyes were red and not blue, no shade of blue could be seen in his gaze.

One of the men lunged at Satoru with his sword and you gasped in fear. The one next to you grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you, trying to get you away from the scene.

You watched as Satoru easily dodged each sword strike, as if it were child's play to him.

“Come on!” The man yelled at you.

“Let me go!” You yelled back, throwing your arms in the air trying to hit him.

“Shut up!” He yelled as he pulled you tighter.

Satoru was too focused on fighting the other men to see the situation you were fighting. You couldn't depend on him either, especially knowing that he was someone ruthless too.

You shook yourself trying to get him to let you go but to no avail, his grip was stronger than all your strength. You began to move away from where all the commotion was happening.

The man had your hair tied tightly, almost as if his life depended on it, he walked in front of you and your head was looking at the ground, you could only see his feet as he practically dragged you. No matter how much you hit him with your arms, you were clumsy and weak.

What could you expect from a princess who had been sheltered in a castle all her life? Nothing.

The man stopped walking abruptly, causing your face to crash into his back. With your eyes still closed the man pulled you.

“Don’t take another step!” He shouted.

Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp blade of the sword touch your throat.

“Come on…” You heard Satoru laugh, he was standing in front of you. “You have no choice, haven’t you seen your friends?” He tilted his head.

“Bastard…” The man whispered through clenched teeth, tightening his grip and moving closer to your face. “One cut and it won’t be worth anything, you know that right?”

“I don’t care.” Satoru said with disdain.

You gritted your teeth at his indifference and looked at him with contempt, and he just smiled.

The man started laughing, as if he had lost his mind. “You know what…” You felt the intense pain when the sword grazed your cheek and you sobbed. “Keep it, but I...” He pulled at your hair. “I’ll keep this.” With the sword he had used to hurt you, he cut your hair. “Red hair, this will make me rich.” And he turned to walk away.

Your knees hit the ground and the metallic taste of blood touched your lips. You didn't look up, your mind was too far from reality to look at what was happening around you.

Satoru, for his part, sighed in frustration as he watched the man begin to walk away. You had wanted to run away from him and in the end you ran into some smugglers from the mountain.

Satoru reluctantly grabbed his bow and one of the arrows he was carrying with him. Closing his eyes, he aimed at the smuggler who was getting further and further away. The string tightened and just as it had tightened, it loosened and the man fell to the ground.

Satoru turned his eyes back to you, who still had your head down.

“Come on, get up.” He said, passing by you to get his arrow.

The sound of birds and leaves breaking under his feet was the only thing that could be heard during the time that Satoru walked towards the corpse of that man. He forcefully pulled out the arrow and cleaned it before putting it back.

You were still on the ground, not moving, almost like a statue. Satoru scratched his head frustrated and walked towards you.

“Come on princess.” He spoke, but still you didn’t move. “You should have listened to me from the beginning.” He said.

Satoru was startled when his back hit the ground and he felt your weight on him, you were looking at him angrily. Your eyes were wet and your face had turned slightly pink, because of the rage that was accumulated in you.

“It’s all your fault!” You screamed and began to hit him angrily. “Everything! Absolutely everything is your fault!”

Satoru took your blows, one by one, without saying anything until he got tired of your tantrum and grabbed your wrists, spinning you around and trapping you beneath him.

“Stop being a child, I told you not to do anything stupid and the first thing you did was run into the lion’s den.” His face came closer. “Did you live in such a bubble that they never told you about the mountain bandits?”

You gritted your teeth as you looked at him. “I hate you…” You whispered. “You don’t know how much I do… I hope they find us and you suffer the worst punishment.”

Satoru looked at you and then pulled you up from the ground. “I’m sure you do.” He simply said. “Now let’s go.”

You snorted and wiped the tears from your cheeks, you didn't want to go with him, but what other option did you have? None. Satoru was right. You were nothing more than a princess who had always been locked away in a castle, away from everything for her safety.

“If it makes you feel better.” Satoru said, looking at you. “The man who cut your hair is dead.”

You rolled your eyes and stifled an ironic laugh.

Silence fell again as you followed Satoru's steps. You noticed how Satoru had changed direction after a while. That wasn't the path you had walked when you had tried to escape from him. Was he trying to keep you from seeing the corpses of those bandits? You quickly shook that idea out of your head. You didn't want to paint the image of the person in front of you and convince yourself again that something of the one you had known was still there.

The dry leaves of the trees broke under your feet as you walked along a path. Your eyes were on the ground, checking where you stepped to avoid falling.

Satoru finally stopped walking and your eyes went up, finding his black horse. Its coat glistened under the bright sunlight. You carefully approached it and petted it gently, the horse responding by shaking its head and bringing it closer to you.

A smile appeared on your face, the first since you had woken up in that nightmare.

“He likes you.” You heard him say.

Your smiled dropped as soon as you heard him. “What’s his name?” You asked.

You needed to keep the whole situation as normal as possible, or else you would lose yourself if you were construido thinking about the situation.

Having a “normal” conversation would help you with it.

“You never told me.” Your voice slowly disappearing as you said those words.

“Name?” Satoru looked at you while putting a few things in a bag that he then hung on each side of the animal. “He doesn’t have.”

“How could you not give him a name?” You said following his movements.

“I didn’t feel like it, he is going to die eventually, so is better not to get attached to it.” He said. “Now, go up.” He moved his head to the horse.

“I can do it myself.” You said grabbing the reins and the seat. You pushed your body forward and tried to get on, your leg failed and you fell back to its initial position. Closing your eyes you blew. “You can do it.”

“We don’t have all day.” You heard Satoru speak behind you.

You let out a growl and tried again, you don’t know if it was the anger you had inside or the fact that you didn’t want to hear Satoru’s voice again that made you manage to get on the horse.

You sat proudly on the top of the horse and look at Satoru with arrogance.

“So the princess can really ride a horse?” Satoru said.

“Didn’t you say we didn’t have the whole day?” You responded with irony.

“And actitud…” He said and sat behind you. “Alright bunny, let’s go and remember to follow my words.”

“Don’t call me that.” You looked at him over your shoulder. “And keep your hands on the reins.” You said and turned your gaze away from him.

“Alright…” He said your name this time and your heart jumped.

Stupid heart.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Utahime injuries weren’t severe, but what hurt the most weren’t the injuries, it was her heart which ached everytime she remembered you.

Looking at the empty room Utahime felt an urge to cry.

Where are you, princess? Are you okay?

That bastard, I know he was not trustworthy.

“Iori.” She heard her name being called.

Utahime turned around, whipping away the tears she had. “Yes?”

The other maid hesitated, but she finally spoke. “I heard they might have a clue.”

As soon as the maid told her everything about it Utahime rushed to the place. Her knees hurt, but she didn’t mind, she needed to hear everything.

She entered without a knock, she knew someone of her status shouldn’t do that but she was too anxious to think about anything else.

The room fell silent when she stepped in, all the eyes were locked in her.

“Oh! Utahime dear!” Your mother tried to move from her seat but Utahime quickly moved to her.

“Her majesty, please don’t move.” Utahime held her hand.

“Utahime, my baby, where is she?” That was the first time Utahime saw the queen so vulnerable.

“I don’t know…” She said defeated.

“You were her closest maid, right?” An old voice filled the silence of the room.

Utahime look at him, he was one of the elders, one of the king's advisors and one of the reasons for your contact with the world.

“Yes sir.” Utahime responded.

“So maybe you know what happened to her.”

“I don’t sir.”

“Maybe you can confirm with us the fact that she ran away with her personal guard.”

“The princess wouldn’t do that!” Utahime said in a loud voice.

“How are you so sure, miss?” The old man smiled. “According to the people working for her, the princess looked very much in love with the guard. And now both of them are gone.”

Utahime gritted his teeth, you would never do that, cause an accident and run away? No, you loved that place, the people there, you would never be capable of that. “She would never…” Utahime’s words hung in the air when the door to the room opened.

Utahime narrowed her eyes as she looked at the figure standing there, it was a knight, he was wearing armor, but it was in poor condition, stained with mud and a crimson red color.

“Knight Geto!” One of the knights shouted approaching him.

Suguru Geto.

Utahime knew who he was, he was one of the knights in the castle, apparently a skilled one and one of the candidates to be the princess guard, but ended up losing against Satoru Gojo.

She narrowed her eyes, seeing how his arm was heavily injured and he looked like he came back from a battle.

“Hey! You are bleeding.” A knight spoke as he held him. “Stop! You need to…”

“I need to speak with the king!” Geto spoke and the room fell silent.

“Speak.” His majesty said.

“It’s about that knight, the escort of the princess, Gojo. He was plotting against the kingdom and I’m sure he was behind the incident that happened yesterday.” The silence felt heavier than before.

“Why are you so sure about this?”

“I found him receiving a message outside the castle.”

“And why didn't you warn everyone? Look what happened now! The princess is gone and who knows where they are taking her.” The elder spoke.

“I fought him…” Geto took his own arm. “But he was stronger than me.”

“So what? That’s everything you had to say?” The elder choked laughing. “We already knew this, tell us something new.”

Utahime saw how Geto rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Gojo mentioned something or at least that’s what I think I heard before passing out.” He sat down, sighed leaving his lips due to the pain. “He talked about revenge… something about what happened 20 years ago to his family.”

“That’s it?” The elder exclaimed. “You didn’t bring anything new to the table.”

“Enough.” His majesty the king finally spoke. “The princess has been kidnapped by someone who was close to her, we made a mistake by believing the lies that man told us when he joined our army.” He stood from his place. “Now what matters is finding the princess, before…” The king focused his gaze on the elder.

A mischievous smile appeared on him. “Exactly! The princess needs to be back. Put your best men to search for her.” He spoke to the commander of the royal guards.

“They will start searching as soon as they are ready.”

“I would like to…” Gato tried to talk.

“Aren’t you embarrassing enough? After being defeated by the enemy and letting everything happen you wanna help?” Geto felt silent as the elder spoke. “You.” He pointed at Utahime. “Treat him.”

Who did he think he was?

“Yes sir.” Utahime approached. “Let’s go and treat your wounds.”

Geto only sighed and he walked carefully besides Utahime, still feeling the anger on his chest after hearing that man’s words.

The room soon enough was only left with four people, the king and queen, who were holding hands trying to erase the anxiety that they were feeling, commander Yaga and the elder.

“Warlock… you think he is behind this?” The king spoke as he looked at the elder.

“It could be… the information about the princess' real identity might have been leaked.”

The king, frustrated, touched his face. “Yaga, I trust you to find the princess. Please bring my daughter back home and the head of that bastard.”

“Yes my king.” Yaga kneel down. “I promise I will bring the princess back home.”

“And Warlock… are you sure the information about the princess has been leaked?” The elder nodded. “I will trust you with the investigation, you have served my father before and me, I know you can do a good job to find the traitor.”

“I will do my best, my king.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Satoru could swear that you had snorted a thousand times, and probably rolled your eyes a thousand times throughout the journey.

The last rays of sunlight were beginning to set behind the mountains and not far from you the lights of a small village were beginning to appear. Satoru knew he had to be careful with you, you could try to escape again. But luckily for him you had gone quite far from the capital and if they had started the search it would still take them a while to find you.

When you finally reached the village the sun had completely hidden behind the mountains and the streets of that place barely had any life.

“We will spend the night here.” Satoru got off the horse and looked at you from below. “Can the princess get off by herself?” He said disdainfully.

You snorted and rolling your eyes you moved your leg to get off the horse without any complications. You looked over your shoulder at Satoru and smiled proudly.

Satoru just smiled. “Very well. Now.” He took a step towards you. “Remember, do as I say.”

“Do I have a choice?” You crossed your arms.

“No, since I need you alive.” Satoru said it casually.

You narrowed your eyes and looked at him. “Why? Do you know about…” You let the words hang in the air.

You shouldn’t talk about it, there was a chance he didn’t know and the reason for all of this was to blackmail your father for land or something else. But it wasn’t possible for Satoru to know about your secret, not when only a few people knew about it. Not even Utahime, the person closest to you knew about it.

“About what?” Satoru crossed his arms.

“Forget it. I’m hungry.” You said crossing your arms.

“Unfortunately, your personal chef isn’t here and I’m not going to be yours.” Satoru argued.

“I didn’t want you to be either, I’m sure you cook badly.” You said back.

“Come on, there’s a tavern open over there and remember, keep your mouth shut.” He whispered the last part into your ear.

You looked at him coldly and he just smiled. Your stomach rumbled and you touched it, you were really hungry. The walk to the tavern was short and silent, but the silence that had been created was soon interrupted by the hubbub coming from inside the tavern.

Satoru’s hand grabbed the hood and placed it over your reddish hair. You slapped his hand away and he rolled his eyes.

The two of you entered the tavern and were soon greeted by the smell of alcohol and smoke that made it practically impossible to see anything. You sat down at a table, a bit away from the crowd and near a window.

“You two are travelers right?” A man asked as he approached your table. “The journey must have been exhausting, what would you like to have?”

You bite your lip, you were really hungry at that moment. “We will have the chicken.” Satoru replied before you could even say anything.

“One for each?”

Satoru looked at you and smiled. “Dear, you will able to eat one full chicken?”

Dear? Was he pretending to be a couple so no one would suspect anything? You wanted to laugh. “Yes please.” You looked at the man and then back at Satoru. “And don’t call me that.” Satoru’s smile dropping as yours grew bigger.

“Oh I guess the couple is having problems.”

“Yeah, just…”

“We are not a couple.” You spoke with a smile.

The man looked at both of you and with a silent bow he left. Your gaze then met Satoru’s who was coldly looking at you. “What are you doing?” He said with a low tone.

“Nothing?”

“I told you to follow what I said right?” He looked at you with those intense blue eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “If you thought I was going to be the submissive princess you knew, I’m sorry but no.”

If you wanted to survive and go back home, you needed to change, you couldn’t flinch before him even when your heart still reacted at him.

You needed to be smarter than him and you needed to start by changing your attitude towards him. That was not the Satoru you knew and you couldn’t be the you he knew.

Satoru only looked at you, locking your eyes with his and feeling the burning anger that you had there.

final note: remember that this Gojo is completely ooc and that is a slow burn, and I don’t want to rush things with reader and Gojo so it will take time for them to start something. Also I’m not planning another couple in the story, just in case. But I’m planning on telling the castle pov from Utahime and reveal things of the story from her pov

— comment if you wanna be tagged

💌: @zoeyflower @faeriesworld101 @coffee-and-geto @alifromtheotherworld @fangirlingtod3ath @laeve-rae-alone @megumisthirdog @wlwkorrasami @starlight5cat @yourfaveava @manyno @kianatrg @iamtherealestet @tracysdemise @certainduckanchor @aloserprobably @glittercherry777 @sylussss7 @n1vi @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

[cookie-lore-keeper]

Black Sapphire Cookie Facts

(//Headcanons mixed in with some actual facts but I'm calling it facts to fit with the theme of this blog)

Black Sapphire Cookie is a bit of an Urban Legend around Crispia. There are stories of a mysterious host interrupting whatever I'd on the radio late at night, and sharing the stories and rumors of various cookies. No Cookie knows how he gets those information... (except I do bcuz it's my job to keep secret information. He gets the information from the many eyes that Shadow Milk Cookie has scattered about)

His radio show is called "Through the Grapevine." It's mostly PG 13 (1930s could only have a bit of violence. That's basically it), but he'll Crack some crude jokes every once in a while (headcanon from this)

He owns fox pajamas (//that one's actually canon, lol)

His microphone has a name! Its name is Malbec, and it was originally a beast that came from Shadow Milk Cookie's realm. It got attached to Black Sapphire Cookie as his familiar, and now it mostly spends its days resting as his microphone

The wings are not apart of his body. They are extensions of his coat that are able to fly with the use of Shadow Milk Cookie's magic. It's the same with Candy Apple Cookie, but she doesn't fly often

Like Shadow Milk Cookie, Black Sapphire Cookie has eyes in his icing (hair). He just keeps them closed when not using them

Would cater to fanservice, but the opportunities hasn't come up yet since no one (in Crispia) knows what he looks like (//he literally told Wind Archer to mewo in the April Fool's event to cater to fanservice and his eng VA is constantly saying stupid shit in his voice. He would 100% do fanservice)

Both him and Candy Apple Cookie care a LOT about their appearances and spend a long time getting ready and putting on makeup

[grotessquerie]

hii welcome to my blog !!

basic info ;;

my name is rubart i was born in 09 (im 16, adults can interact/follow just dont be over 30) fem-leaning nonbinary (they / them) i like to read and write and learn new things & i love to make friends !!

more under cut <3

fandoms / what i enjoy ;;

shows / movies ;; hunter x hunter, death note, care bears, toilet bound hanako-kun, jujutsu kaisen, the meg + the meg 2: the trench, coraline, tmnt, all of us are dead, invincible, the walking dead, pupa, chainsaw man, haikyuu, home, blue lock, kakegurui, devil may cry, cyberpunk: edgerunners, home, the disastrous life of saiki k, brain on fire, parasyte: the gray, the sadness, sailor moon

games ;; roblox, CoD, undertale + deltarune, a date with death, you left me, missed messages, better half, andromeda 6, what the road brings, purrgatory, trapped with jester, graveyard girls, her majesty mirror, kalpa, its not me its my basement, plague inc, arcaea, animal restaurant, to eat a god, what body, neko atsume, sweet sins 2

books ;; living dead girl (elizabeth scott), by the time you read this, i'll be dead (julie anne peters), trigger (n. griffin), dead money (jakob kerr), before we were blue (e.j. schwartz), all the bright places (jennifer niven), a thousand heartbeats (kierra cass), how it feels to float (helena fox), false memory (dean koontz)

music ;; nicole dollanganger <33, lil tecca, solya, bambi baker, lana del rey, the frays, ryan leahan, yikii, set it off, jpegmafia, mikes dead, alexis munroe, childish gambino, traian, rammstein, dolly parton, fiona apple, kmfdm, sophie woodhouse, flower face, selena, green day, three days grace, korn, ethel cain, baby bugs, mercy necromancy, point north, carpetgarden, radiohead

misc ;; butterflies, flamingoes, stuffed animals, reading, writing, drawing, watching reels, talking to my friends and new people, flowers, lip gloss, watching people play games, astronomy, linguistics / language, sharks, ERB, blankets, sleeping, bracelet making / kandi

+ more for all :3c

BYI // extra info ;;

i am really fucked up

i am a self-proclaimed losergirl and girlfailure >.< ☆  i have possible dpd (too young for a diagnosis, but ive done a bit of research) ☆ i believe i was born to love and all i want is a lover, but i don't believe there is somebody who could ever truly love me forever; i am obsessive and hard to love ☆ all i want is to be somebodys pretty girl and have somebody care for me ☆ my only true want in life is to be someones lover. even though i dont have that now, i am not actively seeking out anyone.

i am unfortunately really clingy and obsessive and talkative and it can get annoying :( so just lmk if you want me to stop

im hypersensitive and my feelings get hurt easy, and also im very stupid; i WILL take most things at face value

this is MY girlblog, and i will vent, post about sh/sui, and my ed, but my blog is for none of these things strictly !! and i will put a cw/tw before any of them and a "continue reading" thing so don't worry (for reblogs, i will usually tag with the appropriate cw/tws. and you can block the freakpost and freakposting tags if you dont wanna see any form of nsfw)

if u wanna be friends, just know i jokingly flirt with my friends and i am okay with my friends flirting back!! if that makes you uncomfortable, lmk and i wont <3 nd i dont typically use pet-names towards my friends, but im okay with them being used towards me (tbh i would encourage it) — and sending asks flirting with me are alright! i loveee asks :3 ☆ taken anons ;; 🔪🚿, 💀, 🌺, 🐾, 🥭, 🚫🕳 , ❤️, 🎀/sanctity, bombini, 💫🪽

lifestyle jirai

native english ; learning chinese

i have discord and insta , dm me for either ☆ or just shoot me a dm here! dms are welcome <3 n if ur too shy to dm, using my inbox/becoming an anon is also an option :3

since i made one, here!! https://grotessquerie.straw.page/ although there is more info here than on there

DNI ;;

red: dni at all orange: thin ice

basic dni (homophobes, transphobes, racists, etc.), porn blogs, "older is better" girlbloggers, under 14/over 20, if you make rape jokes or jokes sexualizing children, pro/com/darkshippers, hazbin hotel / helluva boss fans, terfs, tcc, radqueers, transids, anyone who interacts with the last 4, + i also just block freely so if you pmo im setting you on fire🙏

will be edited as needed <3

thx 4 reading >.<

[cassiusfen]

This isn't my art, (it's made by @ TheHearthFox over on Twitter) but I wanted to make a long post about why this work in particular speaks to me so goddamn much. I think such a massive part of the queer experience -- and also the furry experience -- is about the abstract. This can be seen in so many different aspects of furry "culture," from the concept of fursonas to kink and and other fetish content. You and I will never know what it's like to be a werewolf and transform under the full moon into the form of a big hulking furry beast. However, us furries create art and other works about the idea of it anyway. We never will be able to be our fursonas -- our often idealized and "perfect" versions of ourselves -- and part of that really hurts. It hurts so bad honestly, to the point where I can't quite put it into words. In terms of queer culture, I will never know what it is like to be a cis woman, and that also messes with me a lot. Yet, I'm still trans, my identity can change, I can perceive myself as whatever I damn well please. Identity allows you to shape yourself and the world around you in your own image, even if not everyone can see its beauty.

We have ways to get at least somewhat close to how we feel in our abstraction. VRChat allows you to make an avatar of what ever you want, whether it's your fursona or just an ideal version of you. Hell, it doesn't even have to be you, it could be anyone or anything really. We have a whole industry based around creating big ass costumes that allow people to at least look something like their desired character. But it's not enough. It's never enough. I ain't religious, but sometimes I feel like I've bitten the apple, been kicked out of the garden, and now I'm left to fend for myself with an identity that my physicality will never match. When I made my fursona using an avatar base in vrchat and configured it to match my real world body scales and looked down, I honestly started crying. I take the headset off, and I'm still me. Everyone takes the headset or fursuit off and they're still the body they were given, not what they would choose. Our reality is objective, and there's no way to really change that. We can act like animal people online all day, but the moment that screen shuts off, the moment we walk away, that warm, fuzzy feeling (hehe) fades.

To think abstract is to think beyond what you can normally sense. You will never get to brush the knots out of your fur in the morning, or play with your antennae while anxious (I see you bug people). We can still have those ideas, however. I know I'm on the third goddamn paragraph and I'm just now talking about the artwork I linked but this is an important concept to me. Usually, when I think of the abstract, it feels unreal, "fuzzy" so to speak. However, in HearthFox's piece, the objective reality appears out of focus and pixelated. It feels like even if we are unable to fully embrace the abstract, we can still embrace what we can of it, and bring some sort of color to a world that doesn't feel like it is made for us. The colors being outside of the lines could suggest that our abstract perception is maybe just "painted on" to the world around us, but is that a bad thing? Is it bad to take things in from the world around you, but still look at it all in your own unique way? I think not. This also isn't only about therian identity, or furry identity, or even queer identity -- it's also about neurodivergence. You are never in the wrong for thinking about the world in a way that is viewed as "non-standard" by the rest of the world. If you see yourself as a wolf, bee, fox, bear, raccoon, a fucking plane, it's not a bad thing. We can still identify however we want, and this modern way of looking at identity is the best way for us to embrace the abstract.

Go wild, go fucking stupid. Love yourself, if you're a fox, be a fox, there are ways you can feel that way, even if it's not all of the time. We can fight, we can love, we can still find ways to elation, even if sometimes existence itself feels wrong to you. This work is but one side of abstract thinking. Look at the color the fox has compared to the objective. Look how the fur drapes, how it runs down the body, or how the snout expresses emotion. Sometimes it feels melancholic, but you cannot tell me that trying your absolute damnedest to live your identity doesn't at least bring some color to your otherwise dreary and unfocused world.

Stay safe, love yourself no matter what.

[thecircularlibrary]

can you make a fic of Hawthorne game night will all the boys and their girls/wife

enjoy these excerpts from their game night!! sorry if it's a little short :/ fun fact: the cards against humanity game is inspired by a real one i played the other day

is that legal?

a hawthorne game night

word count: 894

warnings: cursing (they play cards against humanity for goodness sake)

pairings: all of them (except averygrayson fuck off)

As soon as Avery picked up the black card in their Cards Against Humanity game, she knew that she was screwed. There was no possible way she could come out of this alive and well. She needed to accept that. She looked down at the card to read it aloud and visibly cringed.

“Well if ______ is a crime, then lock me up!” She read, crying internally. “Please don’t make me say something stupid.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Heiress,” Jameson said next to her, smirking in a way that completely contradicted his statement. Avery looked around the circle to see everyone excitedly putting down their white cards.

Once everyone had placed them, Avery picked them up and shuffled all seven of them in her hand. She read them one by one.

“Changing people’s minds with logic and facts,” Lyra.

“Getting drugs off the streets and into my body,” Jameson.

“These hoes,” Libby. “Are you serious? That isn’t even grammatically correct.” 

“The Blood of Christ,” Grayson.

“White privilege,” Xander.

“Existing as a person of color,” Max.

“Lumberjack fantasies,” Nash.

Avery picked Jameson’s card. She wasn’t going to touch Xander and Max’s.

The next person to draw a black card was Lyra. “Why is Brett so sweaty?”

Avery looked at her hand and sighed. Her cards were awful. She slid “Fox News” into the deck and called it a day. As Lyra read the submissions, there were a few standouts that were not Avery’s.

Jameson’s card: “Fucking my sister” and Max’s card: “Our mutual friend, Brad.”

Max won. The whole game.

⤨☾⚝✯❁✯⚝☽⤪

“We either play Sushi GO, Throw-Throw-Burrito, Apples to Apples, or Uno. While I know it’s a hard choice, it can be decided easily if we have a fair vote and keep it civil, okay?”

Avery rolled her eyes from the kitchen at the sound of Xander’s voice trying to gaslight everyone into playing Throw-Throw-Burrito, which was confusing. Especially since there was no possible way it would work, considering he was the only one who liked the game. As she came back into the living room with a cheese board for his “vote” she laughed to herself.

“All for Apples to Apples, the kid version of the game we just played?” Xander asked. Max’s hand went up.

“Now Max, you know you can only vote once, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then. All for the card game involving raw fish toppings?” No hands went up.

“Anyone for the greatest game of all time, involving calculated risk, accurate aim, and speed/agility? Also known as Throw-Throw-Burrito?” Xander’s hand was the only one that went up.

“I thought he was describing Uno for a second,” Jameson whispered in her ear as he grabbed a piece of cheese from the board on her lap. She grinned at him.

“Fine,” Xander exhaled. “Who wants to play Uno?”

⤨☾⚝✯❁✯⚝☽⤪

Playing Uno was a mistake, unfortunately. They should’ve just fumbled their way through Throw-Throw-Burrito. Because now that the game was down to Avery, Jameson, Lyra, and Grayson, it was getting aggressive. Specifically between Lyra and Jameson.

“I skipped you. Just like your dad,” Lyra said after playing the card. Grayson’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know how on Earth you think you can talk?” Jameson inquired as Avery and Grayson played their cards and it came back to Lyra. She played a reverse. “Because I’m the one who can actually place cards.”

“I refuse to argue with someone who started an online relationship,” Jameson mumbled. Avery elbowed him. He threw her a very specific look that had her giggling at the situation that was hilarious to her, considering she and Grayson both had two cards since Lyra kept dodging Jameson’s turn. When Grayson won, Jameson had to walk out of the room. Avery expected him not to return. The thing about a sore winner like Jameson, is that they tended to be sore losers too. To everyone’s surprise, he returned in the middle of their movie break, in which they watched Little Women, with a deck of cards.

“Let’s play Blackjack,” he grinned.

⤨☾⚝✯❁✯⚝☽⤪

They did not play Blackjack. They did play Slapjack.

“Ow!!” Xander’s yell rang out in the living room as he collected the cards he’d slapped. 

“My bad,” uttered Nash, who hadn’t quite gotten to the deck fast enough and landed a full force slap onto Xander’s hand. This was the eighth time he’d done this. He was three cards from being out of the game, leaving Avery, Xander, and Libby in the lead. Libby was winning.

The card pile quickly grew to over twenty cards. Nash was long out of the game and everybody but the final three was hoping to slap back in. Avery and Xander were running out of cards. They almost didn’t see the hand that slapped the next Jack. They did, however, see Max’s celebratory dance.

Soon, Xander was out of the game but Avery had replenished her deck and was in the lead. When the next Jack hit, she managed to secure it, hoping to secure at least one win at this game night that wasn’t chess. She and Jameson were the only ones who ever played chess.

When she did win, it was when Libby’s last card was a Jack and Avery slapped it before she could or before anyone else could slap back in. It might’ve been the sweetest victory she’d ever tasted.

[areolni]

um UHH UHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY @nicobear I WHIPPED THIS OUT MY ASS BUT I WROTE ABT UR STUPID LANSONI FANKID

made-up lore. inaccurate. im going by whatever was dumped in your ref sheet.

-

"Shit shit shit where is he it's only afternoon and he doesn't get antsy until evening–"

Never in his life had Sonic thought of having a child on his own; biological or adopted, it didn't matter. Raising Tails was… something, but the fox grew into someone so loving and brilliant whom he proudly called his brother. A literal child, an infant, was out of the question. Not until he was sucked into a goddamn legend and met an alternate of his rival named Sir Lancelot.

The beginnings of this child were hazy, to Sonic's memory. How this little hedgehog came about was nothing but a distant memory to him despite it only being a few years ago. Lancelot already had Galahad, and now that child had another brother that appeared out of nowhere. What do you mean his title was promoted from co-parent to a full-blown parent? Hasn't he had enough responsibilities as king?

'Get your mind out of the gutter!' His rationality screamed as he sprinted from one far end of the castle to another, frantically in search of his beloved son. A gremlin he certainly was, though the saying goes that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Why did he have to be as stubborn as his dad?

"Sonic."

A familiar voice was nearly missed as the king dashed past its owner, skidding to an abrupt stop with a trail of dust forming at the ends of his heels. A painful screech echoed throughout the long, vast corridors of the castle which made him wince an apologetic response. The call of his name, and not his title, was never a good sign, especially when it came from his stoic and reserved knight.

"Why the haste?"

"Lance– Damnit, it's Alwyn!" Sonic panted, sounding like a hopelessly desperate cry. "I lost him! I've ran back and forth in the castle for like, three times and people are looking at me like I'm a madman."

"Breathe. I doubt he has gone far," assured Lancelot, placing a hand on his king's shoulder to soothe him. "I have ensured the parameters are secured. The chances of him escaping are slim. There is nothing to fear."

"Yeah, but–" Sonic had to calm himself before he choked on his own spit. "He wouldn't be stupid enough to get himself into serious trouble, right?"

He swore he could see Lancelot's cheek dimple inwards, as though he was biting hard on its insides. He was holding back an insult, wasn't he? He was holding back a laugh, wasn't he?

"Are you certain you have searched everywhere?"

"I am so sure."

"The gardens, my liege."

"Isn't it outside the castle?"

"They are considered royal grounds."

"I…" Yet another pause. Was Sonic truly going to lose himself from a measly child? "Yeah. Got me there."

As brainless Sonic could be at times, Lancelot always had a soft spot for his king.

Sonic was (not so) pleasantly surprised with the sight of his son haphazardly dangling from a branch, mere splinters away from snapping in half. Yet there Alwyn was, giggling and babbling with not a single worry in the world, blissful ignorant of the danger he was currently in. As horrified as he was seeing a goddamn infant at the face of death, he was impressed that his child could commit such a feat. Pride swelled in his chest although panic simultaneously rose.

"How did you even get up there, you little rascal?" reproached Sonic with Alwyn in his arms, now safe and sound from danger. The youngling muttered a soft call in response with big beady eyes staring up at his papa so innocently, Sonic couldn't help but smile. Until now, he was in disbelief that this was his child, his son, his own.

The father joined moments after, currently free from his knightly duties to spend time with his loving family. Lancelot approached his king and his son, visor up and sword sheathed to not scare the child (although he was sure Alwyn was as fearless as ever). Alwyn didn't hesitate to slither from Sonic's grasp and jump into Lancelot's arms, at which he gladly carried and took him in with a soft smile.

The royal family remained in the castle gardens, witnessing the incredible phenomenon of the sun dipping in the horizon, casting a magnificent warm glow and painting the skies with beautiful red and orange hues. There were only three of them, relishing in each other's presence, cherishing the time they had together.

With their beloved Alwyn, sandwiched snugly between them in rest, the king and his knight could not ask for more.

This was their moment of respite.

[ruru195]

The Bubbles Don’t Lie

Scene One: Cuphead & Bendy — Alone Time

They’d only been dating for a week, but Cuphead was already terrible at pretending it wasn’t a big deal.

He sat beside Bendy on the couch, trying to play it cool, arms crossed behind his head, legs stretched out like he didn’t have a care in the world. Bendy, smirking as usual, leaned against him, clearly enjoying the comfortable silence.

“So,” Bendy said, breaking it, “you gonna tell me what’s been on your mind or are you just gonna keep sweating like you’re hiding a murder?”

“I don’t sweat,” Cuphead scoffed. “I’m way too cool to sweat.”

That’s when Bendy looked up.

A trail of tiny heart-shaped bubbles floated lazily from Cuphead’s straw, drifting upward and popping quietly in the warm air. His cup was literally bubbling over.

Cuphead noticed a second too late.

“—Son of a—!” He smacked the top of his head, trying to bat the bubbles away. “This doesn’t mean anything! It’s... atmospheric. Romantic ambiance, okay?!”

Bendy laughed so hard he nearly fell off the couch. “Dude. Your entire face is steaming, your head’s blowing heart bubbles, and your hands are shaking like you're about to hold a dozen puppies.”

“I am not that soft,” Cuphead muttered, curling in on himself.

Bendy leaned closer and kissed his cheek. “You’re the softest drink I know.”

Cuphead groaned into his hands, but the bubbles only came out faster.

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

Scene two: Forest Camping Chaos

The campfire crackled louder now, throwing dancing shadows across the trees. After the gang had finally calmed down from the “first kiss” chaos, Felix leaned back on his log seat, clearly not done stirring the pot.

He looked at Cuphead and Mugman with that fox-like grin. “Okay, okay, next question, I swear it’s the last one,” he said, holding up three fingers and crossing two behind his back. “Have you two… ever dated anyone before?”

The campfire sizzled.

Cuphead blinked. “I mean—” He instinctively reached over and grabbed Bendy’s hand beside him, holding it tight.

The whole camp went quiet.

Tiny broken heart-shaped bubbles floated slowly up from his straw—delicate, cracked little things that popped in silence. His head, normally firm and upright, drooped a little, the straw curling in like a wilting flower.

“Yeah,” Cuphead finally muttered. “I have dated three different people before and all of them end up pretty bad. A total disaster.” He sighed, gently rubbing Bendy’s knuckles with his thumb. “But that’s over. I got someone better now.”

Bendy gave him the smuggest, warmest smile. Felix raised a brow at the heart bubbles mending themselves mid-air and turning into whole ones again. “Freaky,” he whispered.

Then all eyes turned to Mugman.

The younger cup’s face was already red, like, apple-red. Steam hissed softly from his handle. The top of his head boiled, literally, with bubbling froth gurgling around his straw like a busted kettle.

“Oh no,” Boris muttered.

Felix blinked. “Mugs? You okay?”

“I—” Mugman said, holding up a finger. “I may have… once… y’know… tried to impress a girl by pretending I knew how to ride a bear.”

“A bear?” Bendy blurted.

Mugman screamed into his hands. “I WAS THIRTEEN AND STUPID, OKAY?! I THOUGHT IT WOULD LOOK COOL!”

Steam shot out like a kettle whistle. Bubbles boiled out rapidly from his straw like a soda shaken too hard, and he flopped backward into the grass, groaning in embarrassment.

Boris was wheezing. Cuphead looked horrified and impressed. Felix whispered to Boris, “Ten bucks says this isn’t even the dumbest thing he did.”

“I once got banned from an ice cream parlor for singing a breakup song to a scoop of rocky road!” Mugman yelled from the ground.

The group lost it.

Steam clouded the stars. Heart bubbles floated through the trees. And no matter how hard they tried to act cool… those stupid, honest Cuphead bodies always gave them away.

[loulooser]

Here’s some things about me!

My name is Lou online

I’m a MINOR. A MINOR. STOP BEING WEIRD TO ME.

I’m agender probably

My favourite colour is green

I really like music, drawing little guys, cooking, talking, trans people, watching movies, making friends, wearing clothes, playing games, Spider-Man, being gay etc

I really DISLIKE disruption to routine, super loud people, drum and bass, hypocrites, knowing I’ll die some day, being lonely, socks (no fr I hate hate HATE socks so much), doomed siblings trope (for fucks sake give me a break), John Walker, etc etc

My favourite band is twenty one pilots I am normal about them I SWEAR anyways going on six/seven years of fanhood (since 2018)

I’m a huge Marvel nerd

My top five marvel characters in no particular order:

Phillip J. Coulson (actually my all time fav), Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Loki Laufeyson, Spider-Man (not including spider verse people, that’s a different tier list, but Andrew is the best of the three spider men and Yuri Lowenthal is my fav spidey ever anyway.)

Some of my fav books/series: Gone (Micheal Grant), Itch (Simon Mayo), all of Alice Oseman’s stuff, AGGGTM (Holly Jackson), The Angel Of The Crows (Katherine Addison), all of Darren Shan’s stuff, Skullduggery Pleasant, Ketchup Clouds (Annabelle Pitcher) etc etc also I really like comics (spidey and also Kate bishop’s specifically) (I’m not rich enough to read loads)

My favourite movie is fantastic mr fox

I really like Diggers (the machines)

Favourite animal is rabbits I want one so bad I will name him Peter

My favourite show is Agents Of Shield

I cry a lot (at everything, it sucks and I hate it)

I love love love Les Mis. Watched it in London in October 2024 and I will never recover. Stewart Clarke the Javert that you are <3

I LIKE SONIC!!! I REALLY LIKE SONIC. SHADOW AND SILVER ARE MY TOP TWO.

I’m blessed to be one eighth of the coconut shark gang :0

I would like to own two cats and my own small apartment one day, a cheetah esc print kitty called Jason (Statham) and a black cat called Liho. Both are references and if you get either PLEASE send me an ask saying so ily

I have what can be described as misophonia, but even if I’m not diagnosed please for the love of god don’t make any noises around me I DO bite.

Big fan of fictional old men from the 1800s. Shoutout to them.

I like Nintendo a lot!! Zelda and Animal Crossing my beloved. The 2DS is my favourite console ever (not the stupid 2DSXL)

I really like musicals!! Some honourable mentions: Les Mis, Hamilton, EPIC, Wicked, Six, Heathers (some of it, haven’t seen the whole thing yet), In The Heights, Rogers the musical (SHHH SHH ITS FUNNY), School Of Rock, Hadestown.

I’m a nerd about many things

Im gonna be a software engineer one day

Please send me asks!! My dms are always open for rants or a chat

Navigation:

(I do not use any organisation tags at this current time)

TAGS FOR POSTS:

#**the reblogger - reblogs

#**the religious text - original posts

#**musical Lou - lyrics/yapping about music

#**lou being gay - me talking about my partner :3 (not active, we broke up actually)

#**lavish bros - tøp posts

#**my FRIENDS - me and my friends

#**marvellous tomfoolery - marvel

#**apple juice flood - fantastic mr fox

#**the wet cat musical - les mis posts

#**silly magic show - arcane

#**epic - epic the musical

#**gay hedgehogs - sonic fandom

#**agents of nothing - agents of shield (beware)

#**hermits - hermitcraft, life series OR anything to do with any member of hermitcraft

#**misc fandom - fandoms I’m in BUT I don’t post about enough to get their own tags

TAGS FOR PEOPLE:

- #shreypilled sheepmaxxer -> @shreysheep

- #dizzy my beloved -> @1nv1s1bl3-r41ndr0p5

- #the11thpeanut -> @nimbvx1015

- #snail enthusiast -> @dewey-1s-my-sp1r1t-an1mal

- #heebling my beeb rn -> @heeblybeebly

- #L being cool -> @quakeismyhero

- #conversing with angels -> @the-angel-academic

- #the nanner -> @bananapudding752

- #fetti party -> @toms-pink-confetti39x

- #goob -> @eats-hummus-cutely

- #red! -> @redwidow616

- #the luteinizer -> @sojirai

- #lieutenant hormone -> @kaoxin

- #chaos control! -> @chaos-pilots-control

- #baller -> @booberrybawls-deactivated202504 (this tag is for archive purposes)

(Note - any posts about a certain character will be tagged as {character} and ships will be {ship} (e.g. {Coulson} or {Fitzsimmons})

COOL POSTS:

Disproving TERFs with biology

Wizard maze.

Shoe lacing patterns that help pains

Reaction templates

Cool art links

LINKS TO MY OWN POSTS:

Lou’s collection of cool writing posts

Blog roundup

My cat:

Her name was April and she was very cute. I miss her.

[daycourtofficial]

Everything is Not As it Seems part 2

Summary: You’ve been abducted, and the inner circle have to find you as quickly as possible.

Author’s note: part 2!! Part 2!! There will be a third part as well! This is a bit shorter - but I think it has a very natural cliffhanger.

(Part 1)

A month. You’ve been missing for a month. Azriel’s been working nonstop trying to catch just a hint of your existence, while also trying to be careful. He knows you’re in the Autumn Court, Eris would never keep you elsewhere. But unfortunately for them, they have to tread lightly on finding you. They can’t just go and stampede into the autumn court - they need to know where you are so they can have proof you were taken.

In the weeks since Feyre learned Eris is trying to marry you, no one has found out any more information. Feyre’s been able to glimpse back into your mind on occasion, but never when she can find any valuable information.

Feyre won’t tell the others, but she can tell there’s something else happening to you. She does learn more and more each time she visits your mind - for instance, you’re always wearing bracelets that distinctly resemble the chains Hybern uses to mask magical abilities. She assumes this is why no one else can enter your mind and why you can’t converse with her. Before the faebane blocked your abilities, you had left a teeny, tiny opening for Feyre, one that Feyre was incredibly grateful for.

Something about you seems a bit more docile than usual. You seem more accepting of things, not thinking too much of what’s being asked of you.

Even Lucien has started looking for you, furious with his family for harboring you.

“Okay,” Rhysand says, defeat all over his features, “has anyone figured anything out? Any leads? Any random scraps of ideas?”

Azriel doesn’t even show up to these meetings anymore, he’s not sure why he came today.

Elain timidly speaks up, “well,” she says, looking around the room at her downtrodded friends, “she was born in the Autumn Court, right?”

“Yes,” Lucien replies, “her family was very prominent, and they often traveled between courts, usually staying in one court to raise up a child there. That’s how my family got to know her so well - spent most of her first hundred years in Autumn.”

“What happened to her family’s home?” Elain asks timidly, knowing the delicate nature of these meetings.

An entire month with you gone has sent Azriel off the deep end, his agitation with questions and ideas he deems too stupid to pursue growing constantly. Last week he lounged at Cassian for suggesting they go talk to Beron directly.

Azriel looks up, making eye contact with Lucien, “I’m not sure,” the red-head replies, “I haven’t been to their estate in probably 200 years. Feyre - when you can see in her mind, can you tell anything about the property - how big it is, what rooms there are?”

Feyre thinks for a moment, “I’m not sure if she just doesn’t explore, but it seems quite small and contained, almost like a cottage. Her bedroom is brown, with an ornate fireplace. The only other places I see her are a cozy library and a kitchen.”

Elain looks down, feeling silly for getting everyone’s hopes up, but Lucien starts grabbing her arm, “so it isn’t her family estate she’s on,” he says, a grin growing.

Cassian looks at him, “oh look another place she isn’t!”

“For her one hundredth birthday my father bought her a cabin. I can’t believe I forgot about it!” Lucien’s excitement evident in his voice, “But that stupid fireplace! I visited her there and banged my head on it while trying to start a fire!”

Rhysand chimes in, “Lucien, describe this cabin. Everything you know about it. Extreme detail. Feyre, listen carefully to what he says about it.”

-

You were slicing apples in the kitchen when he came home. He walked through the door, only stopping behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hello, fox.” You giggle at his nickname.

“Hello, sweetheart.” You reply, “want some pie?”

He sweeps your hair to the side, kissing your neck, “do I have to use a plate or can I just eat it off of you?”

-

“And the bathroom has these really unique faucets - the spout looks like a fox.”

“Bless the mother, we did it, we know where she is,” Cassian exclaims, ready to put on a song and dance number he was bouncing with such excitement.

“Lucien,” Azriel speaks for the first time this entire meeting, “where is this cabin? What does the land look like?”

-

You woke up, got dressed, and headed into your living room. Azriel was gone for the day, he had some business to attend to, but that just meant you could look through your bookshelves and spend the day reading.

It was a perfect autumn day outside, the windows were cracked just enough to allow a cool breeze, carrying the scent of apples on it. You’re searching through titles when you hear a crack from behind. You turn around and find Feyre looking at you, relief flooding her features.

“Thanks the gods, I found you!” She laughs, coming to hug you.

You hug her back, “I know, I’m so sorry we’ve been gone for so long, we just wanted to take a nice vacation. Autumn’s so pretty this time of year.”

Feyre looks at you, relief over her features turning into concern, “sweetheart, we want you to come back to the night court. Azriel’s back there, and he sent me to come get you to bring you back.”

You look at her, confusion etched in your features, “why didn’t he come get me himself? Besides, we’ll be there in a few days for the wedding, I can wait.”

“Why not come spend a few days before the wedding back home - we can go get massages, manicures, it’ll be a blast.” She reached her hand out for yours, but you’re struck by the intense feeling that something is wrong.

“Feyre, what’s wrong? Why is Az in Night? He said he had some business here to attend to - he wouldn’t have left me alone in Autumn.”

Feyre isn’t sure what to do - she knows Eris could return at any moment, causing a massive fight to break out.

The inner circle decided it was best just to send Feyre - the illusion being broken while you were still in the autumn court could mean terrible things. The plan was for Feyre to get you to take her hand, no matter what.

“It’s Cassian,” Feyre finally says, “he was injured pretty badly, and he really wants to see you.”

Feyre thinks it’s a believable lie - you and Cassian were pretty close, he loved you like a little sister. He’d want you to come visit him, if possible.

You gasp, “oh gods, is he going to be okay?”

You come closer to Feyre, grabbing her hand, about to winnow away. As the world starts spinning, you see Azriel open the door to your cabin, and screaming at the sight of you being taken back. You feel warm fire graze over you as you winnow away.

Feyre winnows you back into Rhys’s office, letting go of you as you hyperventilate over what’s happening.

“You said Azriel was here!” You choke out in between breaths.

“He is,” Rhys replies. Feyre and Rhys share a look, deciding telling you sooner is better.

“Azriel has been in the night court for the last few months.”

Your thoughts whirl and swirl, your friends obviously playing a trick on you.

“No that’s not possible, he’s been with me, in autumn- we’re getting married next week!” You cry out.

Rhys and Feyre both look at you with such sympathy, the words they don’t want to tell you sitting in their throats.

They don’t want to tell you, because they know this knowledge could kill you, but they have to.

“Azriel has been in the night court for the past few months. You were taken prisoner by Eris, who glamoured himself into Azriel so you would marry him.”

[lookinghalfacorpse]

cDream is a gremlin. A very smart and slightly funny gremlin.

If he is not allowed outside, he simply hangs out of the window and feeds the sheep from there. He tries to sneak the chickens through the windows and do his animal care duties.

cDream releases an army of hounds into the house while cPhil is distracted in the kitchen. The entire house is covered in fur, and cDream carefully brushes each hound.

He throws sugar/apple chunks into the yard for the horses.

He tries to arrange an escape for the sheep by luring them under the window with berries.

The foxes steal food from the pantries for him when cPhilza is not looking. At dinner, he gives them pieces of meat, hoping cTechza will not notice.

If you're wondering how Carl ended up getting his head stuck in the kitchen window, this is the short version: Dream, our fragile, injured, and hated-by-the-whole-server companion, was recently forbidden from going outside alone. This was particularly frustrating for Dream, especially given how much he loved being outside with the animals (and believe me, we hated trapping him, too! It was for the best). Evidently, he tempted Carl to the kitchen window by tossing apple slices closer and closer, getting the horse within petting range, but what he wasn't prepared for was just how food motivated that animal is and how powerful he can be when he wants something. He's Techno's horse, after all. Alas, he's also a little stupid, and he can't seem to figure out how to angle his head to free himself from this situation.

Yes, he did break the sink faucet. Sorry, mate.

[t-top-apologist]

At the end of the day the average civilian wishes to be catered to like an old money steel baron or perhaps one of those chaps from Downton Abbey. The entirety of modern society has come together to enable this, mass-producing cheap facsimiles of fortunes that should rightly either be built on child labor or perhaps serfdom.

Their lawns, taking up what could otherwise be used to grow crops or serve as "outdoor garage space," exist to ape the wide ranging estates meant for the nobility to chase down a fox while adorned in silly jackets. Their houses sport columns and stupid windows meant to imitate three different classical artforms at the same time because of something called "economies of scale." They even have male-centric social clubs meant for parlour games, discussing sports, and dining with friends, in this case franchised out under such names as "Buffalo Wild Wings."

This aping of the upper class continues to the hire of "artisans" to do relatively simple work deemed too complicated to warrant the time of the average citizen. It's not that the jobs are too taxing for your average person, but rather that the market has crystallized around the desire to live like budget royalty. Therefore they take their wafer-thin computers to artisans (now more commonly called "experts" or "Apple geniuses") for repair and have democratized the position of carriagemen to 22 year old dealership lube techs named Ryan who will turn a 15 minute job into a 30 minute endeavor thanks to frequent vape breaks and a brief brush with what the industry refers to as "a misplaced drain bolt."

The mid-40s project manager and mother of 3 is no less competent when changing oil than her grandfather before her who knew what "Valve Lash" is, but what separates the two is a series of wars in the 1900s that required an entire generation of men to become very familiar with operating and repairing machines better than the Germans and Japanese (an exercise that Chrysler would later abandon in favor of the phrase "if you can't beat em, join em").

This conflict ended with a surge of able-bodied men finding themselves returning to their project management jobs (like their granddaughters after them) but armed with captured German weapons and a comprehensive understanding of tubochargers. Just as a line can be drawn from troop drawdowns to political violence, there's a distinct correlations between GIs returning home and the violence with which Ford Flathead V8s were torn apart by inventive supercharging methods paired with landspeed record attempts.

Give a man a racecar and he'll crash it on the salt flats in a day. Teach a man to repair a racecar and it will sit in the garage of his suburban house for a few years in between complete engine rebuilds required by what can only be described as "vaporized piston rods."

Of course this hotrodder generation created the circumstances we live in today, as the market saw their fast cars cobbled together from old prewar hulks and simply stamped out new ones from factory, faster and more convenient for the next generation than building one from scratch. Now the project manager mother of 3 drives a 4wd barge with climate controlled seats boasting more computing power than the moon mission and an emissions-controlled powertrain with more horsepower than her grandfather's jalopy and her fathers factory muscle car combined. And she doesn't care at all.

Yet Amongst the average civilians there walks a rare breed: people who know how to change their own oil. We the chosen move among you silently, bucking the system, operating outside the cultural helplessness and trading in forbidden knowledge in almost-abandoned forum threads (flame wars over conventional vs synthetic).

While we do have a marked air of superiority about this, I can't say I haven't stooped to imitating the rich myself. I've been known to wear a silly jacket from time to time.