#then scooped up by the Crows Somehow

[midnightwind]

I really want to change my Crow Rook's name to fit being from Treviso more, but they really made Antiva a freak mash up of Italy and Spain and I simply do not know what to do with that

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙩2 ✿

characters: penacony men x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor attempt at comedy, slight spoilers for some character story and 2.2 penacony quest, injury and blood mention

notes: another popular demand! this time with more cat bois!!! part 1 can be found here! tho this can be read as its own part too. genshin boys ver is here!

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

you just can’t keep yourself away from taking in random strays that are an absolute shit to you huh, [name]?

his breed? orange. that’s it, that’s the breed, what more do you want me to say? jk but he’s still orange. american shorthair orange me thinks. friendly, adaptable, easygoing, playful, good with children and other pets — a perfect american shorthair orange

you first found the poor thing at the streets, hiding under a vehicle, too scared to come out or any approaching humans. sweet cat had a broken limb, holding the dangling paw to his chest as he pathetically meowed

thankfully, you managed to scoop the orange cat up into your arms, wrapped up in your coat before rushing him to the nearest vet

since then, nyanturine has made his progress to be your next addition to an ever growing collection of cats

a strangely crow like cat. nyanturine likes shiny, expensive things. shiny rocks? his. shiny clothes? his. material that glitters? his. expensive earrings and diamonds? his. expensive jewelries? his. everything shiny and expensive that the orange cat lays his eyes upon is his now. pretty please, [name] buy him that earring for him to play with?

out of every cats at home — you sure your home isn’t a daycare for cats? — nyanturine gets along the most with dr.nyatio and occasionally with nyelt. the orange and brown cats can be found chatting away, peacefully settled on the windowsill

not so surprisingly, nyanturine is chatty as every orange cats are, except he needs to get used to the human first before turning into a yapper. with you, it only took a week spent in your arms for nyanturine to get used to your presence

just sit him beside you on the table behind his own mini computer with one of his favorite shiny earrings laid before him while you do your work on your own computer and nyanturine will be chatting your ear off in a storm. though, his yapping sometimes tends to irritate the other cats. dr.nyatio being one of them as you watched the bigger cat jump into the table before smacking nyanturine over the head with his paw

you were pretty sure you witnessed an attempted homicide between cats that day…

surprisingly, nyanturine also likes games! card games, poker, monopoly, uno. don’t ask how but somehow you once got bested by your damn cat when nyanturine placed down +10 on you at uno. you nearly ended up behind bars if it weren’t for meow yuan’s big floofy body holding you down—

he will push all of the tokens in front of him towards the table with a meow. sometimes, you swear you can hear “all in!” in his meows but maybe that’s the ghosts in your home talking

out of every cats you housed and still do till this day, nyanturine has the most unique eyes. cyan blue on the inside fading out into a pinkish hue. when asking about it from the vets, all they could do was shrug and say it could perhaps be a very unique ocular albinism or dna mutation. either way, your cats are a fucking model

nyanturine loves the mini fedora hat you made for him as a joke. wears it nearly everyday, every time, anywhere unless he accidentally knocks it over when zooming around the house

a solid kitty if you can get behind the creepy gloving of his eyes in the dark and his tendency to win against you in every poker games

art credit goes to nasuka_gee on twt!

you first found dr.nyatio by… huh? whatchu mean you didn’t found him? you’re telling me he just waltzed his ass inside your home one day through the window and has been making himself one of the many feline bosses of the house just like that? you sure dr.nyatio isn’t anyone else’s cat? [name]? [name], answer me…

well… whatever floats your boat i guess…

the most sassiest out of all of the fucking cats and that is saying something because you literally have nyan heng and meow yuan

a bengal, me thinks. snow lynx type of marbled tan and brown bengal. a smart piece of shit and he knows it, always yapping your ears off about a certain topic. more specifically, anything to do with algorithm, geometry etc etc

but compared to nyanturine and meowhill, dr.nyatio only ever yaps about those topics and those topics only. oddly enough, he kind of reminds you of one of those annoying lecturers at your old university…

very very curious cat. what’s up there? why are you late? what did you bring? what’s inside your bag? why do you smell so different?

pause.

why do you smell so different, [name]? where have you been? who have you been with? why are you later than usual, [name]? [name] answer him. answer dr.nyatio right now before he loses his shit—

oddly likes bathing time compared to the other cats. though, dr.nyatio is a diva when it cones to taking his baths. the water must be lukewarm, not too full so when he sits in the bathtub, the water will be around his low chest area. the bath must have bubbles and those cute yellow ducks floating around or he will not step inside the bathroom

do you think of him as a low class cat? how dare you, [name]

yeah… safe to say that dr.nyatio spends more money on shampoo, hair treatment than you do

gets along with every cats actually. other than nyanturine. the two tend to scuffle sometimes. and sometimes, you can find dr.nyatio just yapping away to the other cats while he points at… an encyclopedia? since when and where did he drag that out from?

dr.nyatio has an odd hyper fixation and obsession with ancient greek things. anything related to them and the cat is not leaving the site or the front of the screen, patiently watching and listening to the documentary about ancient greek and its architectures and impact in the field of mathematics

once, you decided to bring him along to your local clay making club for shits and giggles, making a mini ionic order pillars and he fucking loved it. loves to sit in the middle of the curved placed pillars and have his pictures taken like a model

dr.nyatio also loves the cute cat helmet like thing you made for him from plastic diy materials. it works as something akin to a mask for him and the bengal loves wearing it whenever you have to step outside with him

once, one of your friends who came over at your home asked you why you named dr.nyatio that way

“is he a doctor or something? what field is his research then?” they asked, unknowingly opening a jar of worms upon themselves. you simply opened up dr.nyatio’s favorite encyclopedia in front of your friend as the bengal cat takes his place, starting to yap up a storm as the cat points to random parts of the book

after a good hour or two, your friend turned to you for help, quietly coming to regret their decision. dr.nyatio didn’t take that kindly, smacking your friend’s face back to focus on him with his soft paw before continuing

yep. doctor veritas nyatio, everyone

“meaw! [name], mrrp ammmeow mrrep mrrya! you will refer to me as doctor and doctor alone!”

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

a very demanding grey korat breed of cat, mr.meowday is

he isn’t much talkative nor is he much affectionate. but what meowday is, demanding and loves control. you once asked your local vet for advice after months of the grey korat telling you exactly how to make his food, which kibbles to buy etc etc and the vet simply reassured you with a “korat breed of cats tend to be a bit demanding and intelligent. they love to be in charge so don’t worry” and a pat on the back

yeah… you have yourself another demanding cat that loves to make you his human slave alongside dr.nyatio. don’t you think you have enough cats reigning over you in your own home now, [name]?

you adopted the poor thing from a shelter near your workplace when you heard the poor thing constantly crying out. when asking the shelter workers, they said that the cat tends to do that at random hours of the day, just calling out for attention from someone or a certain something

taking pity on the poor lonely korat sitting in the corner of his cage with his back to the world, you decided to adopt him, making yet another dumb decision

really loves sundays for that is one of the days that you have time to spend the whole day at home with the cats. and you also love to dub the last day of the week as ‘lazy day’ and therefore, you decided to name him after it. meowday, he was since then

still, even after months of living with you and the other cats, meowday still sits on the window sling, meowing out for someone or something as he wistfully stares out the window. poor cat… you’re still having some problem trying to understand what was the problem and why meowday would do that so you can at least comfort the poor thing

one day while you were showing your co-workers who loves cats as well of your cats and landed on meowday. seeing the grey, elegant korat, your co-worker asked over and over if that really was your cat

you nodded with a furrowed brows, finding it odd that your co-worker would ask such questions. until they whipped out their phone, scrolling through their gallery before showing you… an eerily similar korat

same shade of eyes, same pose, same elegant manner — you would nearly mistake it for your own cat if it weren’t for the slight shade of white grey of your co-worker’s cat fur

a korat as well. from the same animal shelter you adopted meowday too!

after careful consideration and a lot of talk, you two decided to let the two felines meet on the weekends to see if they are perhaps lost siblings, parents or anything along the lines

finally, the day arrives and your co-worker comes over. a carrying bag slung over their shoulder as they step inside. meowday could barely care for your human companion coming over, it happens all the time and he had grown used to the presence of visitors unlike some of the other cats

until he hears a soft meow that sounded eerily similar to his sister. whipping his head around, meowday nearly broke his paws due to his sudden rough landing from the window sling, practically zooming over before tackling the smaller korat to the floor

sad yet happy meows coming from meowday, grooming the other cats’ face with loud constant meows. you were pretty sure that your co-worker’s cat was meowday’s sibling now

ever since then, the grey korat constantly scratches at your feet, doing his utmost best to silently ask you to let him see his sister again, nearly everyday. please just allow him to see his sister, he had dearly missed her. please, he will be a good kitty! the best kitty in the house!

meowday could barely go a day without glooming if he doesn’t see his sister, and so you and your co-worker arranged a weekly meetings and a video call everyday to allow the siblings to meow to each other through the screen

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

is it a mini panther? is it a dog? no! it’s just your one of the most chillest cats, gallagnya

he’s a havana brown like nyelt— wait a minute, what do you mean he wasn’t a havan brown like nyelt? you sure you got it correctly? the fur sample? huh…?

“gallagnya is actually a bombay cat. brown bombay” you can hear the vet on the phone, your face immediately going pale at the news of what breed gallagnya truly has been all this time as the said cat stares at you with a “mhm. that’s right” face from the kitchen counter

why? what was the reason you were suddenly going pale you ask? you were so sure that gallagnya was another havana brown like nyelt and has been feeding him nyelt’s kibbles for havana brown. in simpler terms, you’ve been feeding gallagnya the wrong kibbles

very wrong kibbles

but don’t worry, gallagnya is a chill cat and he immediately forgave you with a lick to your forehead the next day you came home crying with a bunch of treats and the correct kibbles for the shaggy, brown cat

gallagnya isn’t exactly a mean cat but he enjoyed the look of jealousy and anger on the other cats’ face as you pampered him day in and out for giving him the wrong kibbles. the bombay cat secretly hoped that you spent a little bit longer without knowing his exact breed so you could pamper him more. eh, oh well

the main reason your vet had a hard time finding out exactly what breed he was is because bombay cats aren’t the most easiest to spot or find out. it’s a bit hard to detect them and their breed since they are a human bred cat breed

but at least you have another big cat! third biggest cat after lion like meow yuan and cheetah like nyepard. safe to say you feel safe as hell whenever you go out for a quick walk with your three big cats

another funny thing about the story between you and gallagnya is that… you genuinely don’t know where the fuck the large cat came from. did he follow you home? did he slip in through the open window one day and made himself home? who knows. not you

at least gallagnya is chill. and nice. gets along well with basically every cat except for mr.meowday— “WOOF!”

“eh, it’s probably just the neighbor’s dog going out for a walk in the hallways of the apartment—“

“WOOF!” before you could finish your little excuse for the barking you just heard, you feel the heavy big body of gallagnya pounce on top of you on the bed, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs

… great. not only do you have hundreds of cats inside your home, three of them being nearly as big as predator wildlife animals, you have to worry about the third biggest cat being a barker rather than a meower

when and where the fuck did gallagnya even learned to bark rather than meow anyways? eh, that’s a question for you to find out next morning. right now, you were too damn tired and your bed was a siren that you willingly gave yourself to

you did not found out the answer to that question the next morning. even the vets were weirded out by it since, although bombay cats are indeed seen as dog-like with their playful and friendly nature, they never cane across one that literally barked like a dog

well… at least you can scare people away with gallagnya’s barks…?

art credit goes to Hanres4 on twt!

the siamese mom in me wants to say that meowhill would be a siamese, but the logical brain in me is shouting TUXEDO CAT

and yes, meowhill is indeed a tuxedo cat. one that just won’t shut up and leave you alone

going to the bathroom? let him come along and get real political while lying on the bathroom rugs while you take a shit

leaving for the convenience store? just let him stay on your shoulder while he yaps your ears off about which seasoning to pick— no, screwubaBOO THE KOREAN SOY SAUCE TASTES BETTER ON BARBECUE!

staying home and trying to type up your work on the computer? you have a free proofreader for you who wouldn’t hesitate to meow your ears off and point at some of the things you wrote. he will even sit on your keyboard

due to his yapper nature, meowhill tends to irritate some of the cats. especially those who love their peace and quiet and staying silent

which is a huge surprise whenever you find the mischievous tuxedo cat constantly beside nyan heng, the poor black manx looking dreadful as he allows meowhill to yap his ears off. you did not wanted to get entangled nor did you go over and wanted to hear what meowhill was yapping about

meowhill also gets along with nyagenti! the two cats seem to share a past together as when you first brought meowhill home, the tuxedo cat went straight first to the elegant norweigan forest cat

ah right, speaking of bringing meowhill in…

you found the poor thing with a rotted paws and bad burn wounds. poor little thing was burnt so badly it was hard to tell the color of his fur and he kept yowling in pain when you wrapped your coat around him to rush him to the nearest vet

sadly, his front two legs were badly broken and injured and had no way of recovering. and so, the vets had no other choice but to put him under anesthetic to cut off his front two legs and replace them with prosthetics

due to the nature of his injuries, meowhill required a lot of your and the other cats’ attention. recovering from losing both of his front legs and the nasty burn wounds is a long journey and meowhill needed the support from his new human friend and fellow felines

after a long and sometimes painful 2 months, meowhill had made a full recovery! the tuxedo cat’s fur grew back and he had gotten used to walking and sprinting on his prosthetic legs. you never realized how much of an energetic cat he was until you broke the news that he made a full recovery

though, like meowday, meowhill has a slight problem of constantly sitting on the window sling and meowing out the window. why? you didn’t know

is very protective of little nyanqing. you can find the tuxedo constantly nagging meow yuan and stealing meow yuan’s little cub away from him. holding the tiny munchkin by his scruff and taking him away to dote on the little cream cat somewhere in the house

it wasn’t until you took the tuxedo cat out for a shopping in the pet essentials store as a congratulations for making full recovery and the tuxedo immediately latched onto a tiny, white kitten plush did you connect the dots

poor thing had a kitten before…

you bought the white kitten plush for him of course. you don’t have the heart to wrench it away from him

making a trip back to where you originally found meowhill, you couldn’t find anything much other than an old, burnt, red scarf. you made an exact same replica of the mini scarf in secret and gave it to meowhill for his birthday gift, wrapping the soft silk around his neck snuggly before wrapping the same scarf around the plushie

ever since then, meowhill has been deathly clingy with you and the plushie. there isn’t a single day or night where you won’t see meowhill without the white plushie, grooming it, cuddling with it and taking it with him by the scruff of the kitten plushie

art credit goes to helen_zzhao on ig!

an elegant norweigan forest cat! is his fur, brown? burgundy? red? no one knows!

nyagenti is such a beautiful cat that he competes with meow yuan in their beauty level whenever you take them out on a walk. everyone wants to pet the elegant kitties and it doesn’t help that meow yuan and nyagenti are both such gentle kitties

gets along with every cats! anyone! your friends that came over for a game night, the sitters when you need to be away for a few days of business trip, the neighbors — everyone! nyagenti has no enemies

out of everyone, nyagenti gets along best with nyelt, nyan heng and meowhill. meowhill and nyagenti used to share a past it seemed as the two cats hit it off right away while the norweigan forest cat got used to the presence of nyan heng and nyelt very quickly

tends to yap sometimes — more like pray to someone or something — but isn’t as bad as meowhill or nyaturine

doesn’t really mind bath times but he prefers grooming more than bath times. he has a beautiful long fur and they’re very dense and thick so it takes the whole day for him to finally become dry so, please let’s just settle on grooming? he can bring over the brushes for you!

a very big gift giver! shiny jewels, pretty leaves that just fell, nice shaped rocks, cockroaches— nope. nuh-uh. you are NOT getting cockroaches as a gift even though the thought is swee— OH MY GOD HE DROPPED THE COCKROACH ON YOUR BED!!!1!1!

yeah… your friend looks at you as if you’ve finally lost your mind when they came over one day and saw hundreds of rat poisons, bug and insect killing sprays just racked on your shelf like you’re gonna sell them. in return you simply deadpanned back and pointed at nyagenti who already had another cockroach in his mouth

how did you ended up having nyagenti? who knows. at this point you gave up on trying to keep track of how, when, where you got your cats from. he probably just made himself known in your house one day and you simply accepted the sign from cat distribution system no.195826592649

such a gentlemanly cat. you joke that he can kiss the back of your hand to the guests and guess what? one day, nyagenti actually did do that. the look on the guest’s face will forever live rent free in your mind

really likes red roses for some reason. thankfully, roses aren’t toxic to cats unlike some other flowers such as lily, daffodil, hyacinths but nyagenti’s love for red roses nearly borderlines on obsession in a sense

when asking the vet if there could be any reason or explanation for this, they simply patted your back, told you that you had a tendency to attract weird cats and shooed you out. not fully, but they lowkey did that and said “roses have a nice scent that tends to attract cats or dogs. they might end up taking a bite from the flower but it isn’t poisonous or toxic, so no need to worry”

still, you’re getting tired of constantly living with red rose petals thrown everywhere in your house. so much so you have gotten used to it and just decided to leave it be. if your friend comes over and sees the rose petals as something romantical, you simply shove nyagenti into their faces

unlike the other cats, nyagenti isn’t the most clingy or affectionate cat. though, that isn’t to say he is cold and distant, he does love you! but he just shows it in small ways and in quiet manners

bringing over his brush for you to help him groom his beautiful thick fur, waking you up gently in the morning with soft meows and gentle licks, even knowing to turn on the AC on a warm temperature after your shower because you always come out shivering

and he is definitely the one who leaves the fresh red roses on your bedside nightstand every morning you wake up

[katsukikitten]

Mentions of children and a baby, fluffy and then angst. MDNI

Katsuki wakes up to the sound of laughter, soft giggling before two small bodies crawl into the oversized bed.

"Daddy!" They whisper, or what they call a whisper, having not learned the subtleness of it yet. More of a hushed yell of his title as little hands slap across his bare skin, "Daddy wake up!"

He scoops them to him, pressing them against his scarred chest with a grunt before his eyes flutter open, by the sun alone he can tell it's barely seven am. A glance at his clock confirms it and the kids squeal from how he squeezes them to him. He's barely gotten an hour and a half of sleep and when he glances over his shoulder he sees that you're still in bed, he wonders if it was a late night for you too. You were texting him late last night although that was normal for you, Katsuki still wonders if the newest edition to the family was the cause of your unrest.

Katsuki thinks he can pin his twin boys to him and lull them to sleep for another hour or so, he's done it before but their giggles say otherwise.

"Grandma is comin today to see sissy!" Their hushed yell too loud for Katsuki's liking, at least while you and baby try to sleep. Little hands pressing at his chest and setting off little popping explosions that earn them a fatherly glare although Katsuki was sure yours was sharper than his somehow.

It's befitting that he'd have two little hellions just like himself, a "double curse" his ma has teased about your whole pregnancy but she quietly whispered to Katsuki after she first met the twins, "You were easy to raise."

And the youngest Bakugou, his baby girl, took after you. All of her features a carbon copy of you just as his boys were the spitting image of him.

"We wanna tell her we helped with breakfast!" They're pushing again, although this time without their explosions after the warning glare from their father.

"You'll wake yer mother and yer sister." He grunts, but presses kisses to their faces that they giggle about, "Wait in the kitchen for me yea? But do not touch that stove."

"Okay daddy!" Their "whispers" lost and a full on yell before their eyes widen from their mistake, Katsuki and the boys holding their breath only for the baby to coo and you to let out a sleepy "Hmm?'

Katsuki knows that you can still fall asleep, that you'd have risen if you were more awake so that he could sleep but he's up now and he doesn't mind. He's glad the boys have listened to him that yes, momma is a super woman but that daddy can help them too.

And Katsuki cannot say he isn't proud that the boys love to cook with him.

After the coast is clear he sends them on their way with a playful swat to their butts that they giggle about, always rough housing those two. Encouraged of course by Bakugou but when it comes to the baby their hands shake with a little nervousness asking for gloves because they know their quirk could hurt their baby sister and that they are not in control of their gift yet.

Katsuki rises enough to sit on the side of the bed in nothing but his boxers, chest and half of his face scarred from a tale long ago that his kids beg for the story but he never tells. Not yet anyway. Rubbing his large palms across his handsome features, bromine eyes softened to candied apples thanks to his family. Ash blonde stubble looking more grey and crows feet next to his shining eyes.

He yawns, hears his boys giggle as they try to get the usual stuff for pancakes. One helping the other to climb the counter in order to reach the pancake mix and they're good boys. They don't touch the stove while they wait.

Katsuki rises fully now, grabbing a shirt from the clean hamper and sliding it on. Coming over to your side of the bed to look at you. Sleeping soundly and when he spies the bags under your eyes being kissed by your long lashes, he's more than thankful the boys woke him up instead. He leans over, kisses your temple softly, runs his hand feather light over your arm before his cooing baby girl. Talking to herself softly as she stares up at the ceiling, arms moving here and there but nothing too excitable.

And then she sees her father and her face lights up, pure joy just like when she sees her mom. Not fully Katsuki knows this but maybe it's even better to know that his baby girl still knows that these blurry shapes are him. Her cooing and babble louder now, excited as she reaches up for him and he gives a big smile pulling her up to press her into his arms.

"Good morning sweetheart." He coos back, a kiss to her wispy hairline. Softly shutting the door as he takes her to her room, passing by his boys and shutting the door to each. You insisted they should have separate rooms that you didn't want the twins to feel like one person and although they both had "sleep overs" often, they loved their own space as well.

"Boys you'll have to pick up yer rooms a bit before grams gets here." He says to them as he walks down the hall after baby girl has a fresh diaper and outfit, at least for now.

"Even though she doesn't go in there."

"Yea grams never sees our room unless we show her!'

"Mmhmm even though she doesn't go in there. It's still nice to have a straightened room ain't it?" Katsuki looks to them as they play in the water more than they wash their hands.

The morning is easy somehow and Katsuki is so so thankful he waited as long as he did to have kids. He's much more mellow now, can do more of the gentle parenting shit the baby books talked about. And yes his mother yelled at him often and he knows his ma loves him, he just doesn't want that for his kids. And yea he does yell sometimes, gets frustrated or blows up, they're two six year olds with big ass feelings and little bodies.

But he always apologizes

You taught him that and if you couldn't collect yourself either you always pointed out it isn't kind to yell, apologized and explained your own big feelings. Plus when you had the right partner parenting could be easy, it could be a lot of fucking fun. At least that's what Bakugou has always thought.

He supports you and he listened to his Ma the first time when Mitsuki said you weren't going to ask for help and that Katsuki needed to step up. So he'd take turns before you become exhausted and burned out, he split chores or took on more when you couldn't. And as always you did the same for him.

Now is just one of those weird times where you both are exhausted and trying your best to work with the schedule you have but Katsuki thinks you need a little more rest than him even if you've been home. Even if you can send the boys to grams or your own parents or to their cousins house for a sleepover, you still deserve rest because at the end of the day no matter how much he could step up kids will always want their moms first.

"Katsuki." You call gently from the hall as the boys bounce around while a TV show plays on low, their giggling hushed while Katsuki "spoils" the baby and keeps her held to him.

"Ah did we wake ya?"

"MOM WE HELPED WITH PANCAKES!" They scream excitedly, rushing to their half asleep mom to cling to your legs. Chattering away about how they helped with everything even dishes. How yours is in the microwave and how daddy said he'd heat them up. You respond, brushing your hands over their little skulls, pushing down their hair and they hum on.

"You came home late, you should have woken me up." You say softly, barely enough time to get ready before Mitsuki was due here in less than twenty minutes.

"Haaah? And let you hog all this to yerself?" He gestures to the living room where it looks as if a bomb went off, toys, stuffed animals and blankets scattered about that you and Katsuki would have to sing the clean up song just to have it all put away. Mostly anyway, it'd all come out again as they showed their grams and gramps their collection.

You laugh loudly, god damn does he love that sound. Loves that it echoes in his own chest enough to make him smirk or chuckle. Watches you come closer to kiss the babies forehead from over the back of the couch before kissing him on the lips.

The boys of course erupt in a chorus of EWS before they're getting a look from you both. This was definitely still a lightly teasing household.

"Go get ready. The number one hero can handle this." He leans up for another kiss that you give him of course, your once sharp claws now rounded to soft nails scratch at his scruff.

"Kay."

You're out of the shower and dressed without a second to spare, the doorbell rings. The boys wait impatiently to see if it's okay to answer the door, hopping up and down because they were never allowed to swing it open even if they were expecting someone. When Katsuki confirms on the door bell camera it's his mother, he rises to stand at the door to open it.

Sunlight bleeds in, obstructs the view of his mother for a moment

And then Katsuki wakes up.

His alarm blaring from his bedside table making his heart race with adrenaline, his palm poised and ready. Glowing a deep orange as he collects himself a moment. Growling as he smashes another phone turning to stare at the ceiling. He dares not reach out to your side of the bed even though he knows what he'll find.

Still, his curious, masochist palms reach out to find cool sheets. Sheets on your side of the bed that haven't been warmed for over two years, why would they?

No giggling laughter can be heard in the home, no cooing little girl he can greet with a smile after a hard ass night at work because the four of you made it worth it over and over again.

No visit from his ma on his rare few days off because there was no laughter, no cooing, and there may never be.

There never was because you left him two years ago. Left his sheets cool, the house he bought for his future family frigid in your absence no matter how high he turned up the heat or let the sun bleed into his home.

He couldn't even call it a home, homes were warm, joyful, this?

Well this was just another roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, a fridge to hold milk for his protein shakes.

Nothing for bacon and eggs or pancakes. Nothing for formula in the little bottles that were set out on the grass looking drying rack he'd tell his sons not to play with.

Katsuki rises enough to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing his handsome features with big palms. Fingers lingering over scars from a tale long ago but with no sons to beg for the story.

He hardly has the strength to rise from the bed as he comes to terms that all it ever was and all that his two sons and daughter that he saw so vividly, ever will be

Was a dream.

[kroosluvr]

The audience was awaiting the famed Detective Prince and the one-and-only Kasumi Yoshizawa who ended up no-showing... but two new skaters suddenly step onto the rink and make it a show to remember!

a fabricated stage... made for the detective prince and kasumi yoshizawa, filled with slogans and empty seats and mirrors that remind them that this isn't their stage... HOWEVER!!! THE SPOTLIGHTS ARE STILL ON AND THE RINK IS STILL ICECOLD SO ITS SHOWTIME BABYYYYY they throw all that expectation out the window and do their thing regardless AND WHAT A SHOW IT IS!!!!

i thinkthe fact that all the seats are empty is funny as fuck. no one came to see them...... but they got some fans throwing roses at the end!!! (in my head it's joker especially if this showtime is developed during long winter au so their Only other teammate Is joker.) (i havent rlly thoughgt abt When this happens tho teeheebonk... up to ur interpretation...)

i noticed in the other showtimes theres some that have like.. logos?? slogans?? namely the ryuji/yusuke makoto/haru haru/morgana and akira/goro ones so i DEFINITELY wanted to include that in here (i feel like most of the showtimes have stuff incorporatingtheir pthief names except for a few??? they hsld have included it in all ofthem its so cute)

figure skating... physically intensive and demanding sport that requires a lot of precise maneuvers and finesse which suits the two of them quite nicely!!

i wanted to include the "sayonara suckers" line. atlus why did u cut that out its so cute.

i think for these two you could def do a more serious showtime or a sillier/cuter one like this but since crow already got a pretty serious one w joker (and violet also w the flashback of kasumi and all) i went for Sillycute.... tho this could also be a little depressing if u think abt the premise KJFHKASDHAKSJ

goro is carrying her on his shoulder or something on the last page! i imagine after the slashes on pg2 he scoops her up nd spins her around and then the camera pans in on her then she waves but yeah. HEHEHEH

thinking abt it more the joker/violet and joker/crow showtime r kinda like acknowledging their past while this one acknowledges their future :’)))

edit: srry ikeep remembering more stuff . i think the idea of them performing on an empty stage, in a field (figure skating) that isn't either of theirs, yet enjoying it and havign fun regardless of how good they are, is super important to me KASDHAJKSDHA as long as its theirs, thats what matters...!! as long as they]re wholeheartedly THEMSELVES...!!!! who cares abt audience expectations or Who they want you to be or What you look like in the mirror!! you're still you!!!

this goes out to royaltriodaily on twt I HOPE U SEE THIS SOMEHOW UEUEEE UEEEE

[moldycantaloupe]

Mushy May Day 16

(bonus prompt 10) "shut up i'm taking care of you"

Cw's: mental health problems. isolation, self deprecation, issues eating, non-sexual nudity (showering together). but it is a mushy prompts list, so all ends well!

notes; this one was like a mind flayer and took control over my hands and suddenly there 1,2k words of hurt/comfort, my fave. thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for putting together the prompts!

Rain didn’t… know what happened. The day before, everything was fine. Normal even. They ate their dinner with the pack, played on their acoustic with Dew, and then went to bed. It was an easy, simple night. They laid in their bed, exhaustion heavy in their muscles, but their mind raced.

They knew they were okay. Logically they knew the pack cared so deeply about them. Logic, unfortunately, was not winning the battle tonight. They felt the first round of tears sting and scrubbed viciously at their eyes, their breathing shaky. Their mind screamed at them to hide away, isolate from their pack until they were nothing more than a nameless ghoul. No one would notice, they figured. 

But, logically, everyone would notice. They knew logically. 

It started with a quiet knock in the morning. A little later than when they usually woke up, but a sleepless night forced the exhaustion to seep further down into their bones. The knock wasn’t persistent, just someone coming to wake them up for breakfast. Judging from the footfall after they knocked, it was most likely either Aurora or Cirrus. Rain opted with Cirrus.

Twenty minutes went by before the next round of knocking started, followed by Aether’s soft voice. He mentioned that they left a plate for them in the oven, and that he was there for them if they wanted to talk. That they all were. They curled into themselves further, throwing the blanket over their eyes to hide even farther. Had they really done this so much that the pack knew their patterns? It hadn’t even been an hour and already they were being a nuisance to their pack. 

The day wasted away. They only got up to use the bathroom before crawling back to their bed. The bedding felt heavy against their skin, the pillow somehow greasy, but it was all they had in the moment. It felt like they were in fight or flight, and their body and mind couldn’t pick an option. 

A few others came by throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Most would knock, call out, and then leave when they got no response. They heard Phantom walk by at some point, and the young quint didn’t knock nor call out. Rain thought they had left quietly before they quietly sighed, just barely loud enough that Rain could hear, before finally walking away. They felt a fresh batch of tears well in their eyes at the disappointment obvious in the quint.

It was nearing the evening of the day. Rain stayed in their fetal position most of the day, their body aching in ways that were comforting but ultimately awful. They felt cold, a type that couldn’t be fixed with blankets. Their stomach groaned in need of food but they felt nauseous at the thought of eating or drinking anything. They had flitted in and out of sleep for most of the day, but the exhaustion made its way down through their bones and into their core. 

They were woken up from their nth nap of the day by the doorknob turning and the door opening. They smelt before they heard Mountain enter, the earthy smell of sage and rosemary flooding their room. They held their breath and kept their body stone still, scared of what he was here to do. They felt guilt immediately for assuming the worst in the gentle giant, but kept still. 

Instead of anything malicious, he sat down at the end of the bed and placed his hand against their calf. He messaged at the skin. It was so warm. Their eyes stared directly ahead of them to the blank wall, not daring to look at him.

“Rain,” he quietly called out. They didn’t respond. 

He sighed and took his hand away to stand. They violently flinched when he scooped his arms under them and picked them up bridal style. They shut their eyes tight.

“We’re going to wash up,” Mountain pulled the mounds of blankets off and away from them, the dull thud as they fell sharp against their ears, “and then try and get some food into you. Does that sound good, starfish?” 

Rain kept their eyes shut. Mountain took it as a yes and walked towards the bathroom. 

He sat them on the toilet and they slouched heavily until their head hit his stomach. He twisted to turn the water on before he focused his attention back towards them. With a bit of maneuvering, the two managed to get their clothes off, Rain being very little help. Mountain said nothing as he lowered Rain onto their shower seat, the spray of the water forcing a heavy sigh out of them. He shucked his shirt to the ground and stepped in himself, just to the side of them. They hesitated every movement as he helped get them clean; fingers twitching when he asked for them to lift their arm, head locked in place when he pointed the sprayer towards their hair. Everything built up higher and higher in their small body until it came crumbling down when he massaged the shampoo into their curls, his blunt fingers rubbing soothing circles into their scalp. Their face, deadpan and void of emotion before, broke into a deep frown as the tears that teased them all day finally fell down their face, an ugly sob coming deep from their chest. They held their head in their hands while Mountain continued to lather the soap through their hair. They leaned into his touch, suds spreading to his abdomen. He kicked up a purr that vibrated through their ears to their brain. They sobbed harder, loud whines and hiccups and guttural cries.

“I’m-” they sucked in a harsh breath, “I’m sor- sorry-”

“None of that,” Mountain spoke softly but firm, voice unwavering. 

“I was being- being so selfish.” They argued. 

He shook his head. “It happens, starfish.”

“And now I’m f-forcing you to deal with me-” they were interrupted by him leaning down, just enough for them to see him through tears, and his smile was so gentle, so caring. So genuine. It made them fall harder into him.

“None of that.” Mountain stood back up and leaned over to grab the spray. They let his firm hand tip their head back as he began washing the suds out of their hair. “I’m taking care of you.”

The rest of the shower consisted of Mountain rubbing conditioner through their hair as their sobbing died down into something quiet. He helped them dry off and put into clean clothing, boxers and a shirt that was definitely not theirs. He opened the bathroom door and their nose twitched. It led them to their nightstand, where a bowl of oatmeal sat. Mountain sat them on their bed, the covers and pillows no longer feeling heavy but warm and comfortable, and crawled in himself. He whispered kind words as they carefully ate, the bowl warm against their thighs. They set the bowl back down after a few bites, stomach still upset from their mental turmoil of the day. Mountain didn’t complain, though. He praised them as he tucked the two of them in.

Rain hid themselves away into his chest, arms cautiously wrapped around his waist. He purred loud enough for the next room over to hear. They rubbed their head against him in an attempt to scent him, his scent lulling them into a soft mindset and heavy eyes.

“Mount,” they slurred into his skin. He hummed in question.

“Thank you.” 

He shifted a hand to their still damp hair and began scratching at their horns. They began to purr as well. 

[thelakesuite]

The Rusty Lake Story in Bitchass Baby Terms

this is ALL off the top of my head (and i haven't experienced like 10% of it maybe?) so i might be wrong but i don't care right now

the lake itself isn't, like, that well established 'cause it's a mystery game or something so we don't need full exposition. it's some deity-like thing as old as the mammoths (not canon) that eats time. or rather memories that are stored in lil cubes. and it gives its zookeepers immortality so they can keep feeding it. they call themselves the Rulers of the Lake but we all know the truth. 'immortality', or rather enlightenment, is represented by you becoming your fursona and living maybe an extra century. mr. owl's looking for a new heir pretty quick in the process but we'll get to that.

corrupted souls are kinda a byproduct of all this. truly the lake's farts. when a person dies horribly, when their memories get extracted wrong, or when the plot demands it, they become corrupted. corrupted souls still talk, and some of them are even sensible (like your mom oooooh), but generally they're jumpscare beasts or wet little puppies. sometimes both. yes you can get corrupted when you're enlightened, and right now it's the more likely outcome actually. there's a whole 'elixir of immortality' that gets harped on, where one drinker gets corrupted and the other gets enlightened, but that is literally only a thing for roots and a little bit of cave so don't worry about it too much. unless you're making dramatic fanart in which case leverage that shit.

cubes come up a lot in cube escape, believe it or not! black ones are bad memories, white ones are good memories, blue ones are connected to the past in a way that's somehow not a memory, gold ones are connected to the future, red ones only exist in my fangame that ellesian recently unearthed, and green ones are jello yum. also suck it anyone who told me pre-tpw the gold cube thing was unestablished. anyway. it was a big thing mr.'s owl and crow were working on, creating a golden cube (presumably to extend their own lives) as seen in cave, but then one just kinda appears in the past within when albert does electric jujitsu. jury is still out on that.

onto the actual narrative i think.

in paradise, you're mr. owl pre-owling (1790-something). the lake's current suckass servants are your family who tried to sacrifice you to it way back, but your mom took your place for mom reasons. now mom's corrupted and guiding you to... well, to get sacrificed for real this time. but with your powers combined (yes mr. owl was two people, no it is never addressed) you get enlightened and tell your family to fuck off 'cause you're building a hotel on that island now. you also get a tease in the secret ending that dale and laura will do a similar fusion dance to be the lake's next suckass. we've been waiting 6 years for that to happen.

in roots, two alchemist brothers get that elixir shit going (1860-1935). one of them becomes mr. crow, while the other becomes a playable character for a game. and corrupted. you rope your whole bloodline into this, harvesting their body parts (usually after they die from other means, but you totally caused most of their deaths) for a reincarnation ritual involving a magic seed (that also only exists for this game). this is where the best characters come from because rusty lake actually wanted to tell a story with this game. you reincarnate into a woman! don't think about the implications.

in samsara room, the inside scoop of reincarnation is fuckin' weird, dude (1935). the original was made before rusty lake began, so it's not truly part of the narrative, but it got folded in for the fifth anniversary.

in hotel, you do not get the backstory of the third bird man (1890ish). instead, you get to kill mr. owl's family again, but one-on-one as animal people. how did they become animal people? fuck you that's how! mr. owl probably did it on purpose to spite them with shit sandwiches and bullets to the brain. oh, also, there might be an evil twin of mr. rabbit that shows up later.

in arles, you're vincent van gogh. that's it. he's not relevant. but it is funny seing the death date of paul gauguin in the timeline docs.

we're talking about the past within later but the 'past' segment takes place around here. 1926 iirc?

in birthday, your parents get shot (1939). you're going to be an important detective, dale, but like right now you're getting traumatized. or rather you're experiencing that memory, then doing blue cube magic to fix it and have your grandpa shoot evil mr. rabbit instead. is your grandpa actually mr. crow? no. shut up about it now.

in underground blossom, your mom gets abducted (1935-1972 maybe). okay, well, not you. this is the laura backstory metaphor game but you're actually playing as the third bird man who is both her stepdad and her pet. and her grandpa albert takes her mom rose for his own nefarious reincarnation schemes maybe probably. rose is surprisingly okay with it but characters rarely put up a fight with the plot anyway. laura's a lonely kid, starts dating robert, picks up art to soothe her nightmares, gets murked, then reaches some kind of epiphany that we just train ride away from before finding out what actually happens. she's your daughter, damnit, you should support her transcendence. not enlightenment importantly. also, no, laura's life didn't literally happen at train stops, it's just a vehicle. not even a pun don't fucking laugh i see you snickering.

in seasons, you set up a really interesting plotline that gets utterly countered by everything that came after (1960's-80's). it's just laura time in there, and she uncorrupts herself, thank you very much. the series has been struggling with how laura gets her corrupted self to 1980-whatever, and so far only one other game's even taken place after 1972. and that game's the past within which also counters every other plotline. sigh. maybe we're not smart enough for these puzzle games. at least harvey's cute and bird-shaped. key point that's impossible to fuck up is that laura dies in 1972, and it's unclear whether it was a murder or suicide. that's why we get a detective.

in harvey's box and the lake, uh i don't know really (1969). these are early games that are basically spinoffs of seasons. they help with the overarching stuff but aren't much for the narrative at this point. also they suck

in case 23, dale starts investigating laura's death and gets wrapped up in the lake stuff (1972). it was supposed to be just another murder case, but he got too into it and it got too into him, so he gets teleported to the lake chapel and ferried off to. somewhere idk. he goes into an elevator that takes him down memory lane to the lake floor.

in the mill, mr. crow is really trying to clean house before dale gets here (1972). this is where laura gets her ass corrupted by mr. crow, and we find out how the lake eats memories or whatever. it's supposed to overlap with case 23 and it almost succeeds. whatever skrunk is still there is forgiveable, this was the flash era after all.

in theatre, dale learns about ripoff hinduism, goads a man into suicide, and abandons his darling toilet fetus son (1971). it's like birthday again, where this is a memory we're seeing, but that is a light distinction. robert kills himself at the bar, and we take his memories for legal reasons. there's some sixfold wheel we learn about that doesn't matter much.

in the cave, mr. crow still cleans house before dale gets to the Magic Memory Machine (1972). mr. owl's kinda sorta dying, and dale's been elected his son or something. gotta get his mindmeats. you read a textbook about cubes, pilot a submarine to the lakefloor, put dale and laura in a surrogate fusion dance machine, then give dale the golden cube it makes before sending him up the elevator again. hotel did imply something serious was gonna happen when he gets to the top, but that was eight years ago. the devs probably forgot and fell too in love with albert vanderboom in the meantime.

in the white door, robert unkills himself and gets wrong psychiatry (1972). as it turns out, mr. owl has a front business running a for-profit psych ward to extract totally good and healthy memories from people. this one is an actual factual spinoff but is kinda relevant for the greater rusty lake metropolitan area.

in paradox, fuuuuuuuck who knows maaaan, isn't it all just a metaphor? (1972). there's a consensus that none of the stuff that happens in paradox actually happens, and that it's all in dale's head while he's in the Magic Memory Machine from cave. even though there's five different endings, he kinda walks away at the end, which might be the worst ending of the lot. the information's solid though; mr. owl spells out the whole heir thing, there's bits of backstory for dale and laura everywhere. also the movie's sick.

in the past within, albert becomes a mechanical engineer for the sole purpose of making plot armor (1926/1984). yeah, remember that guy from roots? the voodoo murderer who got third-hand alchemy information to make up for his lack of pussy? yeah, he invented a time machine decades ago. and he enlisted his daughter to talk to her past/future self to grow him back to life in 1984. with a gold cube that he somehow got. and somehow his scar is genetically coded in him. and we don't see his wiggly lineart dick. what does he do in 1984? trap his daughter in a time loop then who the fuck knows. he's stuck in his jumpscare beast ways from being corrupted for so long. how did he get corrupted when he was literally buried in the ground and salvaged bones from? next game!

there's an ARG that i never saw a thing of because i hated it, best kept memory. from what i gathered, it was another front scheme for memory harvesting, except in the 2000's. does that mean it's enlightened dale/laura doing this one, since mr. owl presumably passed on the title then turned into a fish? i'd like to know too!

also, a chapter of underground blossom i haven't completed, and a paper-based game coming out within the next two years or whatever. i don't know how much they'll clear up.

toodles!

[iamthecomet]

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘍𝘪𝘷𝘦: 𝘈𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘴

Rating: G Pairing: Mountain, Dew and Soot. Words: 1.1k

Featuring the return of Soot from The Day Dissolved.

Mushy May brought to you by @forlorn-crows Divider by @ghuleh-recs

Also available on AO3

Mountain doesn’t usually have trouble befriending the Abbey strays. He’s got a cadre of crows and ravens who bring him trinkets. A raccoon who thinks he’s a pet. Squirrels and chipmunks who are always happy to come up and take nuts right from Mountain’s outstretched fingers. 

So one little cat shouldn’t be a problem, but she is. 

Mountain’s tried everything. Three different kinds of cat food. Tuna. Raw meat. She eats all of it–but won’t come anywhere near it if he’s within earshot. He catches her little black shadow darting around the grounds. In his greenhouse even, keeping to the shadows. Mostly he sees her in the abbey graveyard. 

A fitting place for a black cat. 

She’s tiny. Mountain isn’t sure if she’s still a kitten, or just small. She’s fluffy, black, with big green eyes that stare at him from the underbrush as he walks closer. She never hisses, never swats. But she also shows no interest in him. They’ve had several stand offs in the oldest section of the graveyard. Mountain holding raw chicken between his outstretched fingers and this little cat turning her nose up at it and scurrying away. 

He isn’t sure why it matters. At first he tells himself it’s because he wants to make sure she’s safe and healthy. That he feels a duty to protect the living things in the abbey grounds. And also–he doesn’t love the idea of a stray cat around. Bad for the birds–and he knows how upset Cirrus gets when the cats go after them.

He’s followed her all the way to the crypt today. Trying to stay far enough back that he doesn’t scare her off. She knows he’s there–she’s a cat. But she doesn’t seem to care as long as he doesn’t get too close. He’s got more treats in his pockets. 

She stops at he steps to the crypt that holds all the past papa’s. She turns and looks at him, head tilting. He crouches down, reaches into is pocket and pulls out a chunk of salmon. God, Aether would kill him if he knew he was stealing meat to try to entice a cat. 

“Come on little one, I promise it’s better inside. All the salmon you could ever want, a warm bed. I’ll pet you as much as you want.” 

This is ridiculous he realizes as he talks to her. Bribing her. It isn’t because he just wants to keep her safe, or because he doesn’t want her out here hunting Cirrus’ birds. It’s also because it’s a challenge he can’t seem to win. Every other animal comes to him without any effort. What is wrong with this cat? The more she turns her nose up at him the more he wants to impress her. He wants to gain her favor, and when he thinks about it like that he feels more than a little insane. 

The little cat sniffs the air–takes a couple steps closer to him. Hope swells in his chest. He extends his hand even more, reaching for her. 

“That’s it, little one. Just a little closer.” 

The smell of cigarette smoke hits him. The little cat keeps coming closer and then walks past him, giving him just wide enough berth to avoid rubbing against his leg. Mountain startles, stands, turning as he does.

The little cat is winding between Dew’s legs. Nuzzling against his well worn boots. A warm purr reaching Mountain’s ears. The little cat looks up at Dew like he is everything and Mountain feels something sour in his stomach. 

“You?” 

Dew takes a drag off of his cigarette, he’s trying not to laugh–Mountain can tell. It doesn’t help. 

“I told her not to tell you.” Dew says, like this is all somehow the cats fault. “I knew you’d be like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous I’m just…you?” 

“Rude,” Dew stubs his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot then bends down to pet the cat. She nuzzles into his hand. When he scoops her up, Mountain feels something akin to shock. Dew? Really? 

The little cat headbuts him, pressing her face right into Dew’s until he’s sputtering on cat hair. Mountain stares, watching her lick at Dew’s nose. Dew scrunches his face up. 

“Ok, Soot, you made your point. Enough.” 

“Soot?” 

“Yeah, because she looks like she rolled around in a fire place.” 

Mountain can’t stop staring. Can’t stop feeling the heat of betrayal in his chest. It’s all so stupid. He shouldn’t care–doesn’t really. Is glad this little cat has someone. But he knows he’s lost. It will never be him. 

“You can probably pet her now.” Dew nods to the little black fluff ball in his arms. 

Mountain gets closer, he offers his fingers too Soot. She untucks herself from Dew’s shoulder and sniffs at his fingers, little pink tongue darting out to lick the salmon juice from them. When he offers her the fish, she chops down on the chunk greedily. Purring happily as Mountain scratches her between the ears. 

“She’s a little brat,” Dew says, but the fondness in his voice makes Mountain’s chest feel warm, not jealousy this time. Dew really loves this little cat–even though he’d probably say otherwise. Maybe it’s ok that Dew has this–Mountain doesn’t need Soot. But Dew definitely does. 

“How’d you get her to come up to you?” 

“I didn’t. She just started hanging out with me when I came to the crypts to…you know…visit. And I knew you were trying to catch her so I just…I felt bad you know? This is your thing.” 

Mountain shrugs. He pulls his hand away and Soot tucks her face back against Dew’s. Cheek to cheek. 

“It’s fine. It’s a good match. You're both picky brats. You can bring her inside you know. Papa doesn’t care.”

Dew laughs. “I know…I’m not sure either of us are ready for that kind of commitment yet.” 

“Typical.” Mountain says, stepping around Dew and heading back toward the greenhouse, intent on leaving Dew, and Soot, to their crypt visit. “Just…don’t do it again ok?” 

“What befriend an animal?” Dew rolls his eyes. “Not like I can control which animals like me better!” 

Mountain shakes his head. “Just…stay away from my ravens.”

“Oh, is now a bad time to tell you that one of them brought me money the other day? Do they do that to you?” 

Mountain groans, not dignifying that with a real response. His whole walk back to the greenhouse is filled with the sound of Dew’s distant laughter.

[dullgecko]

Riz tends to drink a lot at Fabian’s parties (he’s in a place he feels safe, he always knows what’s going in his drink, and it helps calm his brain down) and he is not a clingy drunk but he is however a climby drunk

Basically any high surface he can reach he will attempt to climb

Fabian usually stops him by keeping him perched on his and Gorgugs shoulders (it makes him a beast at beer pong, he has literally never lost a game), however there are times he will just disappear and reappear somewhere very high up and almost give one of the Bad Kids a heart attack

Adaine is genuinely considering putting a tracking spell on him during parties just so she doesn’t have to waste 20 minutes panicking and searching just to find him in the crows nest stargazing contentedly

Riz likes being up high and the goblin horde his family comes from in the Chaos Mountains are known as prolific climbers even among other goblins. They're scaling cliffs like it's nothing and like a fall from that height wouldn't absoloutly kill them. Plus, Riz likes being able to see everything that's going on and if he has to get up onto the roof or into the rafters to do that so be it.

If Fabian manages to catch Riz eyeing up a good perching spot he'll usually scoop him up and place him on his shoulders as a precautionary measure. You have to keep a firm grip on his ankle or tail though or the sneaky little shit will somehow manage to get down without you noticing (or grab a pole as you walk past and disappear up it faster than you can snatch him back down).

They are slightly less worried about him getting into the high spots after the first time he casually jumps from that height and glides to the ground. He completely forgot to mention what his vest can do until after Gorgug nearly had a heart attack trying to stop him falling to the ground.

[uhbambii]

A Taste of Trouble

Rook leaned against the kitchen counter of the lighthouse, her knife moving deftly as she diced vegetables. The warm glow of the hearthlight flickered across her face, bringing out the sharp glint of her amber eyes. Nearby, Lucanis Dellamorte stirred a pot of sauce with the easy grace that seemed to follow his every movement.

Lucanis looked much the same as he always did, dressed sharply, dark hair slicked back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as though he was privy to some secret no one else knew. But here, in the quiet of the kitchen, he seemed… softer. The assassin’s sharp edges were still there, of course, Lucanis could never quite shed his air of danger, but the way his voice rumbled as he spoke made her stomach flutter.

“Rook,” he drawled, inspecting the way she cut with the knife like a general surveying a battlefield. “You keep cutting like that, and I’ll start to think you actually know your way around a kitchen. Dangerous territory for a Crow. Do you plan on slaying enemies with seasoning now?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, not missing the teasing note in his voice. “If I do, I’ll be sure to start with you,” she quipped, tossing the diced vegetables into the pot. “But only after I taste whatever you’re burning over there.”

Lucanis chuckled, a deep, velvety sound that sent warmth curling low in her stomach. “Burning? Cara mia, that’s an insult. I’ll have you know, this sauce is perfection incarnate. Much like myself.” He leaned in, just slightly, his dark eyes catching hers, and for a moment, her breath hitched.

She snorted, breaking the spell. “Perfection? You might want to let the sauce speak for itself before your ego swallows the entire room.”

He shot her a mock-wounded look but stepped closer, a glint of mischief in his gaze. Scooping a bit of the sauce onto his finger, he held it up to her, as if daring her to try it.

Rook hesitated for only a second before leaning forward to taste it—until Lucanis swiped the sauce across her lips instead, his smirk widening as she blinked in surprise.

“Oops,” he said, entirely unconvincing.

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on her lips, the playful glint in his eyes faltering as he watched her slowly lick the sauce away. Her tongue darted out, tasting the rich, spicy flavor, and his composure cracked, just for an instant. His hand tightened around the wooden spoon, his jaw clenching as though holding himself back.

“My eyes are up—” she began, voice lilting with mock innocence, but her words caught in her throat as Lucanis stepped closer.

She backed up instinctively, the edge of the table pressing against her hips, trapping her. Lucanis towered over her, his usual smirk replaced by something far more intense. His dark eyes locked into hers, his breath warm against her skin.

“You are impossible, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rougher now, the playful edge gone.

“Me?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady even as her heart thundered in her chest. “You’re the one playing games.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. The touch was featherlight, but it sent sparks racing across her skin.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing the risk, but then his lips were on hers, and all thoughts of teasing banter vanished.

The kiss was fierce and consuming, the kind that left no room for doubt. Lucanis kissed like he did everything else, with precision and purpose, yet somehow still wild and untamed. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, the table digging into her back forgotten entirely.

Rook’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, matching his intensity. The world outside the lighthouse, the dangers of their lives as Crows, all of it faded away. There was only the heat of his lips on hers, the intoxicating press of his body against hers. The heady realization that this man, this enigmatic, deadly, maddening man was hers, at least in this moment.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Lucanis rested his forehead against hers, his dark eyes searching hers for something unspoken.

“Still think I’m all ego?” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

She grinned, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Maybe. But the sauce is decent, so I’ll let it slide.”

His laughter rumbled between them, low and warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Rook let herself enjoy the fleeting feeling of peace.

[candyswirls]

Crow and Fledgling

Synopsis: a little tidbit of what Corvus Corax has been doing while in the warp.

Word Bearers were easy to spot. There was an air about them that brought attention. Foul traitors.

He had sworn in his wrath to take down his wretched brother, Lorgar. But other things had arose. More important things.

He itched to slip down there and massacre them all but he had more pressing matters.

He glanced over at the boy. He watched him crouched and creeping forward towards an unsuspecting amphibious warp creature. He pounced but the creature leapt away.

He fell face first into the mud. Corvus, don’t bolt to pick him up. Don’t baby him.

The boy stood up and laughed as he spat about mud. He moved to try again. Waiting for the creature to let down its guard. Walking with bare feet, using the mud on him as camouflage.

He tried a different approach and moved ever so closer to the amphibian. Then he grabbed it.

The creature flailed in the little arms. Corvus held his breath, willing the boy strength.

Pride swelled in him as the amphibian failed to get away. The boy laughed and came running, holding up the creature.

“Look! Look!” He exclaimed. “I caught it! I caught it, father!”

He beamed up at the Primarch. Mud streaking across soft cheeks. Stark against the pale white skin. Long black hair tangled behind him. His eyes large, bright, and lively as pitch black orbs could be. One would guess he was of the Raven Guard legion were it not for the sharp white teeth in his mouth.

Corvus reached down and ruffled his head. He would comb it out later.

“Well done, Kiri,” Corvus said. “Well done my son.”

He could have sworn that Kiri’s eyes sparkled and glowed whenever he referred to him as his son.

Kiri hugged the amphibian.

“What are you going to do with it?” He asked him.

Kiri thought for a moment then exclaimed, “Let’s eat it!”

He held it above his head and went running, tripping and falling into the mud again. Yet somehow he held onto the creature as he scrambled up.

“I’m okay!” He called back.

Corvus shook his head as he chuckled. He was resilient and never let anything keep him down. He was so positive. A wonder considering how awful childhood had been thus far.

He was so small. Barely nine years old. The thought made his blood boil. That bastard brother, so willingly to give away a child for experimentation. It made him hate the traitors all the more.

He trailed after his son as they moved towards the passage way to the hideout. He had already picked up the boots he had forgotten.

Kiri’s small feet padded quickly. Feathers ruffling at the heel. The warp was slowly mutating him. Since replacing the previous geneseed with his own, the boy had begun taking on more of his own appearance. The exception was the ears and those teeth. Other than that, you’d have never guessed he was from Nostramo.

He took a strange comfort in him. Both of them were displaced from time. Most of those they knew gone. Those that were alive were traitors. Both had destiny and great responsibility thrust upon them when they were incredibly young.

He lifted his head as he saw Kiri stop and crouch at a hole. The Raven Lord prepared to swoop in if there was danger.

The boy looked up and came running to Corvus, smiling.

“Anything interesting?” He asked.

Kiri shook his head, “No, just more mud. Oh. I’m all dirty.”

He held out an arm and the amphibian almost slipped out.

“We’ll get you cleaned up when we get back,” Corvus assured.

His son looked hopeful, eyes darting from his wings to the passage.

“We can fly the rest of the way,” Corvus confirmed.

Kiri jumped up and down, “Yes!”

He scooped up the boy and unfurled his wings.

They swooped over the various canyons and caverns of the warp. The land changing ever so threateningly. But he paid it no mind. After unleashing the true nature of his soul and being in the warp for millennia, it was easy to navigate.

He landed on the crag and looked around. He’d been invisible as he flew but one could never be too careful. Especially with such precious cargo.

Once he deemed it to be safe, he slipped into the hidden cave, crawling down till he reached his base of operations.

He nuzzled Kiri with his beak, nipping at loose clumps of hair and feathers.

His son giggle and tried to block Corvus with his arms. He then grinned and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Corvus smiled and set him down.

“Go put the creature somewhere safe,” he told him. “Then get cleaned up.”

“Okay, Father!” He answered as he ran down a hallway.

He watched him go. The warp was no place for a child but it had already done so much to the both of them. He could hardly stand the thought of his little boy being away from him for too long. The safest place was near him.

(I made Kiri when I first was getting into Warhammer. He was part of a group of loyalist Night Lords that were in the warp then eventually it shifted that he had been a night lord neophyte so I could have a younger perspective. I actually wrote a sad scene where they try to join Corvus and he rejects them. Don’t worry he comes around! But since reading @/Jaghatai-Khock’s stuff about a Zadkiel and Varska I figured why not have this little baby be shown? Let’s throw adoption into the mix. Also have to give kudos to @/necrophiliak. The Night Lordsona with Kayvaan further influenced the development of it.)

[rae-raewrites]

Corvidphobia

Arkham scarecrow x reader

or the fear of crows

Ya’ll scarecrow season is right around the corner

“Breath. You’ll cause yourself to go into a panic attack if you don’t.”

You were practicing attached to Jonathan,his grant to your back refusing to take a full breath into your lungs. You just had to tell him you what you were afraid of. Some phobias were not something he would intentionally go out of his way to treat but this was a….different case.

He was almost iron gripping you to keep you upright and stable. Out of his own fear of for his research? One would find trouble finding the exact reason.

“I know,i know just i know…..ok?” Your eyes practically searched through the rafters of the long abandoned building. The occasional strewn twig catching your eye but definitely not a living thing. Yet.

Breathing had won out in the end as you finally managed to get some of your nerve back. Not needing to rely on the table as much before.

“He won’t try to hurt you,Craw isn’t an aggressive sort.”

“He IS one of yours sweetie.”

“I train politeness and self respect. It’s not my fault most fools choose to disregard his boundaries.” He chuckled,a hint of self confidence in there. As if the father of the nest knew exactly what he had trained.

You resigned yourself to a kind silence as he left to go for one of jars on the countertop behind him. The little jar full of seeds,kernels, some more reddish seeds. A little tape label on the jar reading ‘craw’s’. The master of fear unscrewing the top and grabbing a handful of the mix and holding it in his non-gauntlet hand,bringing it back over to you before grabbing your hand and pouring it in it.

“Corn,pumpkin seed and red Nightshade berries. The last one a known poison to humans,but to crows? A delicacy.”

There was almost something slightly unnerving about the way he said it a certain thrill in his voice. Oh how your boyfriend loved the more….grim facts of life.

You took the little pile in your hand,slightly shaking it. Watching the yellow kernels, white seeds and bright red round berries. The movement being halted by Jonathan’s hand scooping yours in his. A gentle reassurance to the movement.

“Remember what we agreed on. You can say no at any point. This isn’t one of my more extreme exposure therapies. No toxin.” Ah the big one. No toxin. One he had interestingly enough implemented.

“And if I scream?” You asked,hopeful eyes peering into his more scarred ones.

“Then I will be a……better man than usual.” The words ever so genuine. He took a few steps away,holding out the hand unattached from you. “Come along craw.”

The raised voice seemingly beckoned the little creature from the darkness. Black wings bringing the feathered creature to the master of fears hand. The fear almost stabbed you like ice but you didn’t scream. Shudder a bit sure but no ear piercing wail.

“Here we are,craw you know (y/n),don’t you?” The question seemed to get a genuine reaction from the bird. The Corvus’s head tilting slightly at you and turning its head back to father. Almost questioning the situation it had been called too.

He looked so……different up close. You’d probably seen the bird scare the suspecting victim or other rouge dozens of times but this was different. There was no little black terror threatening to pluck your eyes out. No omen of death here to plunge your soul out of your body. Only the little black bird who was fond of the former renown Psychiatrist.

“H-hi.” It came out in the smallest voice you could muster. The hand with the treats somehow finding the ability to go closer to the bird.

“Good….very good. Well?” His attention turned back to craw, Jon motioning his head towards you. Giving a silent bout of approval.

The little bird’s feets slowly tiptoed closer,a soft caw echoing through the room. Like black orbs coming up to stare at you. And then a head bow,the little beak picking up one of the kernels and lifting its head to swallow.

Sure there was the smallest bump in your heart rate but it was manageable now. Doable.

When the little bird finally finished he left the tinniest of crumbs on your hand with a small gulp and a satisfied croak.

“Now how about you go settle down hm? Let my love get some rest?” Crane motioned back up to the rafters. Craw seemingly was satisfied with that idea left foot the rafters.

“Jon I…”

“You did good. Very good.”

You looking down at your hand once more,the littlest feet markings. Not hurting just imprints.

“How about some tea hm? I just restocked my supply.”

[forlorn-crows]

Dew returning from Tour and has some soft and loving reunation (is that even a word? Its a word now.) sex with Aether.

I don't know why but I'm almost crying over happines from this thought.

listen, this could be softer, it could. but its dewther. and they're desperately horny for each other. so it goes as softly as it can. but it's all love, i promise.

crow once again demonstrating she doesn't know what the definition of a ficlet is...1.4k lmao

The scent of shampoo, cinnamon, and relief curls around Aether's nostrils as he hugs Dew tight to his chest. The little ghoul melts into him, breathing him in just as deeply. Smushing his cheek into his chest.

"Missed you, firefly," Aether mumbles into his hair, voice a little watery.

"So much," Dew replies. “So fucking much, Aethe.” The admission is only loud enough for the quintessence ghoul to hear. As always. 

They pull away just far enough to look at each other, like really look at one another’s faces. There’s nothing different, of course. Simultaneously familiar and foreign. 

“Hi,” Dew whispers, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hi,” Aether grins back. They reach for each other again at the same time, the fire ghoul extending his arms towards his neck while Aether scoops him up by the waist, lifting him off the ground. Dew gives him a chaste kiss before burying his face into his neck, clinging. He hides behind his curtain of hair, pressing his lips to the quintessence ghoul’s ear, daring to scrape a fang against it.

"Now get your dick inside of me before I tear off your pants in front of everyone,” he says, low and suggestive.

Aether huffs a laugh into his shoulder. "So, I shouldnt bend you over the stair railing and fuck you right here?"

Dews knees admittedly go a little weak at the suggestion. If it weren’t for Aether still holding him up, he’d surely have stumbled. “No. Don’t want any of them right now. Just want you.”

Aether hums against his skin. A playful growl bubbles up after that, right before he hikes Dew up, throwing him over his shoulder. 

“I’ll be taking this one, ghouls and ghoulettes,” he calls over his shoulder. He doesn’t need to see Dew’s face to know he’s trying his hardest to scowl at the resounding laughter from the rest of them. 

The pouting doesn’t stay long, not when Aether brings him to his room, pushing him against the door as soon as it’s closed and pulling him into a deep, open-mouthed kiss. Dew whines through his nose, desperately grabbing at the front of the quintessence ghoul’s shirt. Restraining himself from tearing it off with his claws. He can’t make his fingers work anyway, not with the way Aether threads his big hands through the hair at the nape of his neck, guiding his face however he wants as he licks into his mouth with a groan.

He’s not sure he’s ever been this hard in his infernal life. 

“Need you,” Aether says simply. “Need you so fucking badly, Dewdrop.” The use of his full name sends a shiver down his spine, threatening once again to make his knees drop out from underneath him.

He whimpers, needy. “You too—fucking hell, get your clothes off.” Aether pulls away from him like he’s been burnt, shucking his shirt off with one hand and fumbling his waistband down with the other. Dew follows suit, yanking off his sweatshirt and tshirt at the same time, toeing off his shoes and nearly tripping over himself. Somehow, they hobble towards the bed without injury, clothes flying into the corner without care. 

Aether bullies the fire ghoul onto the bed as soon as they’re both bare, pushing him down onto the sheets and engulfing him with his body. Dew groans with it, canting his hips upwards as their cocks slot together. 

“Oh fuck—oh fuck,” Dew pants, nearly shaking as his hands grope at Aether’s back, his shoulders. 

“Mmpf—can we—wait, can I just—” Aether pulls back, propping himself up on his hands, chest heaving. “Can I just—let me look at you for a second?” It’s pleading, said through a gasp. His eyes are searching his face, roaming every inch of Dew’s body. 

The fire ghoul grips his arms. “Aethe, you just—”

“Please?” Their eyes meet, so much unsaid crossing between them in a fraction of a second.

Dew softens. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah that’s—okay.” He smooths his hands down Aether’s arms, stopping just under his elbows. He looks up at his mate, searching his expression. It’s almost pained—fang poking out as he bites his lip, brow furrowed, nose scrunching, eyes shining—but underneath it is disbelief, reverence. Love. 

“Fuck, Dew,” he sighs, a little bit of laughter bubbling up with it. “I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

The fire ghoul offers a small smile in return. “I’m here.” He rubs his thumbs back and forth across Aether’s skin, soothing. “Come down here?” The bigger ghoul obliges, slotting their bodies together once more. Dew sighs happily, tail thumping against the bed as he buries his face into Aether’s neck. 

The quintessence ghoul places kisses into Dew’s shoulder, really pressing his nose into his skin. He works his way down to his collarbone, teasing a little tongue and fang. Dew drops his head back down to the bed, groaning bodily. 

“Yes,” he breathes. He drops his hand into Aether’s hair, encouraging. He mouths at the hollow of his throat, nips along his sternum. “Fuck, Aether, yes.” The ghoul above him groans low before dragging his mouth over to a ringed nipple, sucking it into his mouth. 

Dew howls, a wrecked feminine sound that goes through the break in his voice. The hand in Aether’s hair tightens to a fist, ripping a groan from him too. But he keeps sucking, swirling the metal around his tongue, working the bud until it hardens in his mouth. 

“Satanas, you’re gonna kill me—please, Aethe—hn.” Dew’s cock kicks between them, no doubt already spurting precum onto his stomach. 

“Could spend all night doing this,” he admits before latching onto the other nipple. Sucking harder on purpose, abusing the sensitive flesh. 

“Please don’t,” Dew begs, twisting his other hand into the sheets. His cock kicks again, traitorously. 

“Won’t,” he mutters. “Can feel how hard you are.”  

“Want you,” the fire ghoul whines, bucking his hips into Aether. “Don’t make me wait.”

“No more waiting,” he agrees, running his hands down Dew’s torso. “Fuck, no more waiting,” he repeats, like he doesn’t believe himself. Dew guides his hand down between them, pulling his face back up with the other. Their lips seal together with a shared groan as Aether wraps his hand around them both, stroking from root to tip. 

“Fuck,” Dew nearly sobs. “Satanas, Aether—”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “So good, Dew, fuck you feel so good.” His knuckles brush against the pool of precum under the fire ghoul’s naval, making him groan. He coats his fingers, smearing it over them both and stroking again. 

Aether only gets in a few more strokes, a few more sloppy kisses before Dew’s pushing at him again with a whine. “Unholy shit, fuck me—please, need you inside me, s’ not enough.” The quintessence ghoul moves to press his fingers against Dew’s fluttering rim. Nearly ghosts them over the muscle before Dew’s gripping at his shoulder, claws digging into his skin.

“Don’t need it.”

“Dew—”

“Aether—”

“It’s gonna hurt if I don’t—”

“Aethe, for fucks sake.” He’s wild-eyed, desperate. Aether stares, fingers still hovering over his hole. Dew swallows. "You aren't gonna hurt me, Aethe.” He huffs out the tiniest laugh. “Please, I swear to Belial if you don’t get your dick inside of me—”

“Okay, okay.” He spreads Dew’s legs, settling more between them. He gives himself a stroke, long and luxurious, sighing. He indulges in a few pulls, smirking when he sees Dew ogling him with an open mouth. “You really want me that bad?”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“Hm,” Aether hums, lining up the head to his—notably wet—hole. He groans. “Fuck, yeah, you want me bad, don’t you?” He grips Dew’s hip and dips inside before the other ghoul can get a chance to respond. It’s slick but it’s tight. “Oh Dew, that’s—” 

“Uh huh,” Dew gasps, shaking with it. “Fucking all the way, all the—”

Aether thrusts down to the hilt, both gasping. Dew’s eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open as his little chest heaves with breathy moans. Aether holds onto his hips like they might drift apart if he doesn’t. 

And they sit there, unmoving, heavy exhalations and sounds of pleasure mingling in between each other. Aether sinks down slowly, melting back against his mate’s body, letting the smaller ghoul tuck himself into the space that feels designed just for him. He rests his forehead against Dew's, just reveling in the fact he's there, that they’re together again.

[militantinremission]

The Difference between The Black Agenda & The Reparations Movement

Reparations Commissions are popping up across the Country, but none of them come close to addressing the true spirit of Reparations. There are several reasons for this:

Neither Democrats nor Republicans in Congress have a real interest in discussing Reparations; let alone dispensing anything tangible.

Minorities involved in these Reparations Projects have either tried to include their demographic into the discussion, or they have been against it.

Infighting amongst members of the ADOS, FBA, Freemen, & Indigenous Community have weakened the overall message of Reparations. The Masses don't realize that they are All THE SAME LINEAGE GROUP. This division weakens Our collective argument, but has allowed some to eat well over the past few Yrs.

Organizations like The NAACP, The Urban League, The National Action Network, NCOBRA, NAARC, & other like minded Groups have promoted a Trans Atlantic Reparations Agenda that ignores CARICOM. In effect, it 'Centers' Black Immigrants (including Afro Latinos) in the Black American Experience. Most arrived at least 10Yrs after Jim Crow ended- how do they qualify for American Reparations?

The recent kerfuffle over San Francisco NAACP President Rev. Amos Brown's rejection of that City's Reparations Proposal spotlights the problem w/ letting Our (so called) 'Established Leaders' drive the Reparations Bus. They drove the Bus into Our current situation, why should We expect anything different from them? Many of these individuals chose Corporate Donations over Black Community Development. They arent 'Leaders', they're Corporate Lobbyists. These are the Same People that let HR- 40 rot on the 'Social Action vine' for over 30Yrs; If they REALLY wanted Reparations...

Another issue, are the individuals & Organizations narrating 'The Black Agenda' into the Reparations Argument. They are separate & distinct. The White Noise of their rhetoric has confused The Masses, which weakens the magnitude of Our Fight. For the sake of clarity, I want to point out the difference between The Black Agenda & The Reparations Movement.

The Black Agenda, is an All inclusive Program for Black & Afrikan Americans, regardless of their Country of Origin. This includes Africans, Caribbeans, Afro Latinos, & Afro Asians. All of Us share in the current experience of being Black in America. It is an experience that is unique to Us, & is also what unites Us.

The Black Agenda is about Equity. America loves to promote 'Equality', but equal measure doesn't guarantee that Everyone will somehow end up on equal ground. We have been collectively marginalized in America, so it's only fair that they level the playing field. 'Rising Tide' Programs, like those offered by The Democratic Party are on the right track, but NONE take into account the fact that Black America needs an extra scoop of whatever they propose.

The Black Agenda deals w/ the issues of Community Development: Residential & Commercial/ Business Property Ownership, Job Development, Training & Employment Opportunities, Health Care & Mental Health Solutions, School Reform, After School Programs, Youth Empowerment, Visual & Performing Arts Programs, Daycare & Pre- K Programs, along w/ the necessary Community Boards needed to present these & other Community related issues to Local & State Agencies. The goal, is to improve the overall Quality of Life in Black Communities- up to the level of Every Other Community.

The Reparations Movement, is a specific call for American Society to pay their long overdue debt to American Descendants of Chattel Slavery. This Movement is about Indemnification. While Black America collectively deserves legislation, American Descendants Of Slavery deserve much more. The problem w/ EVERY Reparations Program offered so far, is they All ignore the fact that Reparations is a debt owed. They All read like Politicians are giving Blackfolk a hand out. These Programs also fall short on what is really owed.

A lot of numbers have been thrown around over the years, but I have consistently said that Final Reparations numbers will depend on WHO is held liable. If the U.S. Government alone is held liable, Reparations will probably be in the $18 Trillion- $22 Trillion range. If Corporations & Individual families are included, that number could reach $64 Trillion. That should give a clue to the extent of Exploitation, Theft, Terrorism & Oppression that Black America endured over the last 246Yrs- 400Yrs. American History is a chronicle of Anti- Black sentiment. Reparations Naysayers point out the impossibility of dispensing Trillions of Dollars, but a Multigenerational Reparations Program is an easy solution.

The Republican Party's outright refusal of, & The Democratic Party's attempt to graft Feminist & LGBTQ... rhetoric to Critical Race Theory (CRT), are attempts by both Parties to keep Mainstream America away from Our Nation's cruel & bloody past. They obviously fear divulging this history, because it will quell the Argument 'Against', as it strengthens the National Argument 'For' Reparations. The Immigrant Argument of 'I wasnt Here' becomes embarrassing, when We consider 2 facts:

It was Black American Labor that built America up & made it attractive (i.e. The Land of Milk & Honey) to Europeans, Asians, Latinos, Caribbeans, & Afrikans looking to start a New Life.

Black America is responsible for motivating ALL of the Immigration Initatives over the last 150Yrs; especially those since 1965.

It's only fitting for Immigrants living their American Dream (at another's expense) to pay tribute to the people who made that dream possible. I like the analogy of 'Inheriting an Old House'. The New Occupant didn't cause the wear & tear on the house, but that doesn't change the fact that they will have to invest the Time, Work, & Money needed to restore & maintain it. THAT, is the price of Occupancy.

Another thing to consider, is the fact that most Black Americans are descendants of Indigenous Americans or American Indians (Coppertoned Aborigines); not to be confused w/ 'Native Americans', who migrated from Siberia. Less than 10% of Transatlantic Slaves landed in North America. Our Ancestors were Prisoners Of War, that were forced into Indentured Servitude, & later Chattel Slavery on their Own Land. Census Records reveal the effort to hide Our lineage.

Starting w/ the 1790 Census, Indigenous indentured servants were reclassified as Negro & Colored. By the 1900 Census, Indigenous People were being punished for identifying as 'Indian'. They were forced to identify as Negro, Colored, or Mulatto. By the 1970 Census, We were designated 'Black'; & on the 1990 Census, We were labeled 'Afrikan American'... Out Of Afrika Theory is not only Culturally false, it now appears to be a ploy to get Us off of Our Land. We're looking to Afrika, while the Blood & Bones of Our Ancestors fertilize This Land. Our success in agriculture isn't an accident- We were Here for millennia!... I guess that adds an extra wrinkle to the Reparations Discussion.

It's Time for Us to link the moving parts of Our Lineage into Black Voltron, so We can get on w/ The Work. -Just Saying

[leiawritesstories]

Do Not Touch That Oven

hey @writtenonreceipts, happy birthday!!! you are such a talented writer and a wonderful person, and I hope you have the best day <3 here's some Aelin-Elide friendship fluff and shenanigans :))

~1k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ells!” Aelin squealed, opening her front door for her best friend. 

“Calm down, Ace,” Elide laughed, giving her taller best friend a hug, “you literally saw me yesterday.”

“Oh, this isn’t me talking, it’s the caffeine.” 

“Hellas,” Elide snorted, heading for the kitchen with her bag of ingredients, “someone needs to hide the coffee from you.” 

“Someone isn’t here this weekend,” Aelin smirked. “He’s on the boys’ trip.” 

Right. The “boys’ trip.” Gods only knew why Rowan, Lorcan, Fenrys, Connall, Vaughan, Aedion, and Dorian had decided to go camping that weekend, but Aelin and Elide were dead fucking certain that they’d all come back hungover and probably bearing a few bruises, if they made it back alive at all. 

In the meantime, though, Elide was staying at Aelin’s overnight for their monthly girls’ night, and she’d brought the stuff to make cookies because Aelin had taken one look into her pantry and quickly decided to put her much wiser friend in charge of the shopping. The last time she’d been entrusted to go to the store, Aelin had hardly been able to find the few things on her list, returning with milk, eggs, and flour–which she’d been asked to buy–as well as twenty dollars’ worth of junk food. She just couldn’t help herself. 

Aelin followed Elide into the kitchen, perching herself on one of the high stools at the island. “So what are we making?” 

“Double chocolate cookies,” Elide replied, unloading a bunch of cooking ingredients onto the counter. Aelin had eyes for exactly one of those things. 

“Chocolate!” she crowed, tearing into the bag of dark chocolate chunks. 

Elida snatched it before she could grab more than a few pieces. “Uh uh, Ace, hands off!” 

“Bitch,” Aelin grumbled halfheartedly, fake-pouting. 

“If you eat them all now, there won’t be any for the cookies. And you like cookies with extra chocolate.” 

“Damn straight I do!” Aelin cheered up. “Shit, Ells, you know me too well.” 

“Fourteen years of friendship and that’s all you have to say?” Elide placed her hand over her chest. “I’m wounded.” 

Aelin snorted. “Yeah, yeah, no you’re not.” 

“No I’m not.” She pointed a wooden spoon at the taller girl. “Now get a bowl, this is your kitchen and you have to help somehow, even if you’re a disaster behind the stove.” 

“Rude!” But she grabbed a mixing bowl from a cabinet and slid it over to Elide. Then she grabbed her phone, setting her speaker up on a shelf so it wouldn’t get knocked over, and put on their joint playlist. 

The two of them made a bit of a flour and cocoa mess on the counter, what with singing into their spoons like they were pop stars and having a small bit of a flour fight, but the dough got made–with a minimum of Aelin swiping tastes–and scooped onto a baking sheet. 

Aelin checked the recipe card for the oven temperature. “Ells!” 

“What?” 

“We’re supposed to bake these at 375, right?” 

“Yes bitch, can you read?” Elide rolled her eyes, snickering. 

“Bitch!” Aelin threw an oven mitt at her. “Well we have a ton of cookies to bake and it’s going to take forever,” she complained. 

“So what are you suggesting…” Elide looked a little suspicious. 

“If we bake them at a higher temperature, they’ll be ready a lot faster, right?” She grinned, so damn proud of herself. 

Elide grabbed the baking sheet right out of her hands. “Do not touch the oven!” she commanded. “We don’t want the house burned down.” 

Aelin gasped in mock affront. “I’m not going to burn the house down!” she protested. 

“Mhmm,” Elide deadpanned, sliding the cookies into the oven and setting the timer. “You keep telling yourself that, Ace.” 

Aelin grumbled something crude under her breath and went over to the sink to help clean up the dirty dishes. She couldn’t let Elide do everything, even though she knew that if she left the dishes unattended, the petite girl just couldn’t help herself. 

The oven timer beeped ten minutes later and Aelin crowed with joy, hurrying over to take out the pan. Elide beat her there, swatting her hands away. 

“No touching!” she said in her very best mom voice. 

Aelin stuck out her tongue. “I’ll touch whatever I want to touch.” 

“Not with me, you won’t.” Elide winked lewdly, waggling her brows. 

Aelin, who’d just taken a gulp from her water bottle, spewed her water all over the kitchen floor. “ELLS!” she screeched, her face flaring red. 

Elide howled with laughter as she took the cookies out of the oven and put the next pans in. “You telling me I’m wrong?”

“Hell no,” Aelin returned, wiggling her own brows. “You better believe I touch whatever I want to touch when Rowan stays over.” 

“Okay, okay, enough!” Elide groaned, covering her ears. “Fuck, I did not need to know that!” 

“That’s what you get for oversharing about you and Lorcan,” Aelin teased. 

“Oh, trust me Ace, I’m not the one who overshares.”

“Right,” Aelin nodded sagely, “that would be Dorian.” 

Elide cackled as she transferred the cookies to wire cooling racks. “Damn straight.” 

“Which he is not,” Aelin declared, giggling helplessly. 

Elide laughed harder, almost dropping the cookies. “Makes for some interesting stories, it does, the kind of men he flirts with.” 

Aelin agreed. She finished up the dishes and strolled over to the cookies, swiping a warm one off the rack before Elide could smack her hands away. “Fuck,” she groaned through her mouthful, “these are so yummy, Ells!” 

“Save a few of them for the guys,” Elide reminded her as she stacked five more onto a small plate. “They’ll want their sweets too.” 

“Their sweets are right here,” Aelin smirked, gesturing to herself and Elide. “And you better believe they’ll get these sweets when they come home.” She winked broadly. 

And both of them collapsed into helpless laughter, wheezing at their own hilarity and their wicked wicked plans for surprising their boyfriends when they came back from their trip. 

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[waltwhitmansbeard]

46. Forest, with the Clays

46. Forest

The Savalirwood is haunted. At least, that's what Colton tells him. And Caduceus thinks he's right. Sometimes, when dusk is settling and the buzzing things chorus from the tall grasses that surround the Blooming Grove, Caduceus sees...something. Something moving between the headstones, like a breeze, except...dark.

He's not scared by it. He's not. Maybe he hugs the stuffed beetle his mom knitted for him a bit tighter when he sees them, but he's not scared. Mama told him that that's what the Clays do here in the Grove. They protect the souls buried here from the blight of the Savalirwood. Caduceus isn't really sure what that means, but he knows it's important. He knows it's his family's duty, and that it will be his duty, too, someday, when he's older.

On a night when he's feeling particularly brave, he creeps out during twilight, wading through the overgrowth that comes up to his waist, his stuffed beetle clutched close to his chest. When it's dark like this, the headstones he's come to know feel different, strange, taller, somehow. He inches forward, whispering, "The Wildmother will protect me." He doesn't know if his prayer is heard, but he's knows his dad says it sometimes, and it seems to have worked so far.

Just as he crosses the tree line into the Savalirwood, something moves quickly in the corner of his vision, and he yelps, spinning around to look. It's just a crow, taking off from one tree to go land in another. Caduceus laughs. He was just silly.

Something claps down hard on his shoulder, and Caduceus screams, the sound of it echoing through the forest and scattering all manner of creatures. He drops the beetle and tries to run, but whatever has him isn't letting go. When he runs out of air, his scream dies, and he's able to hear a surprising sound: laughter.

"C...Cad..."

Caduceus is released, and he takes off, bolting to the tallest headstone he can see. He crouches behind it and peaks back. Colton is double-over, wheezing from the force of his laughs. Caduceus's heart is racing in his chest, but as his breath starts to slow down, he feels the terror ebb away and an extreme annoyance settle under his skin.

"What's going on?"

Footsteps approach, heralded by the light of a single lantern, and just before he's rescued, Caduceus spots something on the headstone and scoops it up into his fist.

"Colton, what did you do to your brother?"

Caduceus allows himself to be picked up onto Aunt Corrin's hip, and if whimpers in more fear than he actual feels, well, who's going to know? Burying his face into his aunt's neck, he murmurs, "He scared me, Auntie."

Colton's laughter dies down, and he hiccups out, "I was only messing with him!"

"He's too young for all that, and you know it. Apologize."

With a sigh, Colton trudges over and tweaks Caduceus's ear. "I'm sorry, buddy. I won't do it again."

Caduceus knows he's got one shot at this. "Fine. I forgive you." He extends himself out to hug around Colton's neck, surprising his older brother—and, carefully, he nudges back Colton's shirt collar to drop the giant cricket he's been holding his fist down his back.

Caduceus lets go and quickly murmurs, "Can we go inside now?" Just as Aunt Corrin turns to carry him inside, Colton begins yelping and jumping, his arms swinging wildly as he tries to catch what Caduceus is sure is one very confused cricket. Caduceus hides his face into Aunt Corrin's neck once more as she snaps, "Quit being a fool and get inside!" As they go back toward the house, Caduceus looks back at his panicked brother and sticks his tongue out.

[calicocatsarecute]

Heyyy me again😈

I was curious if you could do

Lee:kanae

Ler:sanemi

Or

Lee:kanae or shinobu (or perhaps both)

Ler:gyomei

(I feel like there isn't alot lee fics of the butterfly sisters!

YEsYESYES! I totally agree that the butterfly sisters don’t get enough love (especially Kanae)

I can totally do this for you! (I hope you don’t mind this being a romantic relationship )Enjoy!

__________________________________________

Sanemi and Kanae were heading back to the Ubayashiki Mansion. They had just finished a mission together. Though it ended up being a very boring mission.

The sun was beginning to peek out behind some clouds. The light seemed brighter than usual, somehow.

“Hey Sanemi, isn’t it beautiful out today?” The Flower Hashira asked.

“Of course!” Sanemi blushed, his answer coming out a bit rushed.

Kanae giggled as her boyfriend’s face turned pink. She loved him so very dearly, almost as much as her sisters!

“You’re so adorable when you blush Darling!” Kanae almost squealed from how cute he was.

“You’re adorable too y’know!” The Wind Hashira retorted.

Now it was Kanae’s turn to blush. She could never take compliments like that without getting flustered.

Sanemi saw this, and now there was a large smirk appearing on his face. He grabbed by the waist and pulled her close to him.

“You’re just so sweet and cute! I must be sooo lucky!” Sanemi said, peppering kisses on his girlfriend’s neck.

“S-Sahanehemihi! Thahahat tihihickles!” The girl giggled out, squirming a bit.

“Wow! I didn’t know that tickles were supposed to…. Tickle!” He teased now scribbling softly across her stomach.

“AHAHA! Wahahihihit! Ihihit’s sohoho bahaha-AHAD! NOHOHO!” Kanae all but squealed when she felt Sanemi’s hand squeeze her hip.

“Awww, you’re so fuckin’ adorable when you’re tickled!”

“AHAHAHAHAHA! OHOHKAHAY! AHAHALRIHIGHT! THAHAT’s EHENOUGH!” Kanae hollered, signaling for Sanemi to stop.

As he slowed his fingers, Kanae leaned against him, panting. Sanemi chuckled as he scooped her up.

“How about I carry you back to the mansion, sound good?” Sanemi questioned, kissing the top of Kanae’s head.

“That’ll be just fine Nemi.” Kanae answered, resting her head on his shoulders.

They continued the path to the mansion. Their crows gossiping to each other along the way.