#this is my first time coloring grass with that many different colors i think

[thelemonsnek]

[id: a digitally drawn and colored scene depicting a Luxray pouncing on a Wurmple, front paws outstretched and descending rapidly. The Wurmple looks up at the Luxray in abject fear. They're in a colorful grassy field, and the sky is clear blue. End id]

Spark voice I think I will terrorize wurmples today. As a treat <3

This is the wurmple's worst day of its life

[id: a photo of a snow leopard pouncing much like the Luxray above, with its front paws outstretched up high. End id]

Inspo <3

[kihyunsflavor]

I belong to you

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: Your house unknown but a high-born and a Bene Gesserit, you get wed to the na-baron of Giedi Prime, Feyd-Rautha. It´s not easy with him and his darlings, but after some time it seems you are much to his liking. Is there a soft side hidden inside Feyd, only for his wife to see or will he treat you the same as any servant?

Warnings: arranged marriage (like all of them lol), smut, violent behavior, breeding kink, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of knives and blood, size kink

Word count: 3.5k

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it <3

The bed was comfortable and soft, much different than the room itself with his stony, cold walls and the black interior. You were not asleep, just lying in bed with closed eyes. The current situation making you uneasy and sleep didn’t come easily. Next to that were the people standing in your room. You felt their preying eyes on your body even though the blanket covered you fully. It was Feyd-Rautha, your newlywed husband, with his darlings. There were three of them, being his concubines for quite some time. 

“She is rather ugly.” One girl spoke up, not even caring to whisper her words. They probably wanted you to hear it anyways. “Next to that she is a witch.” The other hissed. Feyd stayed quiet but you knew he had a big smile plastered on his face. You didn’t move nor open your eyes, you wanted to know why they suddenly decided to pay you a visit at this hour. Your husband hasn’t been in your chambers before, not even after marriage did he share the bed with you. He was spending time with his darlings and only having this annoying black teethed grin on his face when you ran into him.

“I think she is awake, Feyd. The witch listened to us since we came here.” 

The room was dark, no light coming through the big windows. This planet was very dim, caused by the industrial pollution and their black sun. One of the reasons why you missed your home planet so much. There you had fields of green grass, blue skies and people were dressed in colorful clothes. It was a warm planet, like spring and autumn combined. 

You opened your eyes and stared at the little group in your chamber. Your expression cold, showing no emotion. Feyd and his darlings kept your gaze, amusement hiding behind their eyes. Slowly, you sat up glancing shortly at the clock next to your bed. It was 2 am. “What is the reason you came into my room at this hour, my Lord?” You asked, annoyance showing through your voice. Again, this grin on his face. He hasn’t shared many words with you since you arrived on Giedi Prime. All you ever dream of is this exact expression. 

“My darlings wanted to take a look at my little present.” Present? No, you were not just a mere gift to him, but right now Feyd sought only to demean you.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to your feet, his eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to drink up every expression you were going to show him. But there was nothing. You had trained long, you were good at it. Instead, you shifted your eyes to his three concubines. They all looked pretty similar, only one of them had a big black bar on her forehead. Their skin was white, eyes fully black and their heads shaved, not a single hair on their body just like Feyd. You had heard they were the beauties of Giedi Prime - and they fed on human flesh. 

“I have been here for two months now. Did they not have the chance to take a look at me yet?” You replied. Feyd shifted next to you and your eyes fell back on him. He didn’t like the tone you were using. “Careful wife, that´s not how you speak to me.” You mustered his face, he appeared to be displeased by your reaction, not expecting you to talk back like this. He was a scary man, unpredictable and violent, but you were not an ordinary girl. Trained in the way of the Bene Gesserit, you mastered the Voice. There was no way you would give yourself that easily to him. “I apologize, husband.” Seconds later, there was a knife sitting at your throat. The cold blade grazed your skin lightly, but still breaking it enough to release tiny drops of blood. You were surprised by his sudden reaction and leaned back. Holding your chin high, you did not break eye contact with Feyd´s dark blue eyes. “You better shut your mouth!” 

It was a command. He wanted you to submit, making it clear he had full control over you. However, you simply stared back at him, not moving a muscle. This made him angry, but he didn’t change the pressure of his hold. “Do you want me to cut your neck, little mouse? I could slice you up right in this moment.” The grin wandered back on his face, making you uneasy. He was enjoying the thought of making you bleed. You replied after a while, choosing your next words carefully. “I will give myself to you completely, but it will be out of my own will, not through force, na-Baron.”

Feyd´s expression went blank for a second. He sensed something in you, something he hasn’t been confronted with before. Now snarling he said “You better do as I say, wife. I won´t think twice about staining these sheets red with your blood.” A soft smile appeared on your lips; it was not to tease him. With a calmer voice you replied “No, you won´t treat me like this. I am your wife, not a mere servant you command. I will submit to you, but you need to earn my respect first.”

During this whole time the three concubines just stood there watching you and Feyd. There was so much tension in the air, that they didn’t dare to interfere. But then Feyd leaned back on his heels and the knife left your throat. You straightened your back and touched your skin where it had been broken softly. Tiny droplets of blood stained your fingers, but it was not much. Suddenly one of the concubines dropped to her knees next to the bed. She looked at your fingers with pleading eyes. “Let me taste your blood, please.” You starred at her confused than back at your fingers. Thinking about all possibilities what could go wrong if you let her do it, you finally decided to let her lick your fingers clean. Reaching out to her, she immediately leaned forward to lap at them. For a second you looked back at Feyd, who carried his usual smile, enjoying the situation in front of him. But in the next moment the girl kneeling on the ground raised rapidly and tasted the fresh wound on your neck. 

“Go away!” Stripped of control over her own body, the concubine moved away from you. She blinked disorientated, trying to figure out what just had happened. 

“How dare you?!” The other concubines hissed, dripping with spite. Feyd was showing not a single emotion in his face. You directed your next words to the concubines. “You ask me how I dare? I don’t think I gave her permission to touch my neck.” Those standing looked to Feyd for help and protection, yet his gaze remained solely fixed on you. “Do you think you are better than us? We have been here for a long time. You are just a foreign girl.” They started to argument, but you interrupted them. “Yes, I think I am better. You may have been in his care for ages, but who is the one that will bear his heir? It will only be me.” Your response silenced them.

The room was quiet, you watched Feyd taking in your words. It appeared as though a realization washed over him, yet he wouldn’t let it go so easily. 

The knife returned to your throat, this time softer, drawing no blood. “I don’t like the way you treat my darlings. You are not yet with child, wife.” His eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “And why is that?" You retorted sharply. "If you had devoted more time to me after our marriage, I might be carrying an heir now. But instead, you choose to spend your days and nights with them.” If he wanted to play a game, you certainly wouldn't hesitate to participate. 

There was anger and fury dancing in his eyes, yet nestled behind it, timid and faint, was attraction. You almost had him at your grasp. “And why is it that you have an issue with my behavior towards your concubines, but overlook their insults and disrespect towards me? This is not how I imagined Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, to treat his wife.” 

Feyd was taken aback by your words and let his hand with the knife sink down. You both held each other's gaze for a while, almost as if engaged in a silent communication through your eyes. It felt as though he had finally comprehended the entirety of the situation. Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, offering your throat to him in submission. It was the gesture he had been seeking - a sign of surrender. In the next moment you heard the knife hit the ground with a sharp clink and his raspy deep voice, dismissing the concubines.

Soft, wet lips immediately left a trail of kisses along your exposed neck. He made a grunting noise while inhaling your scent. You shifted your arms and laid flat on your back, opening your legs so he could just fit nicely in between them. Feyd made a noise of appreciation and continued his assault on your skin. “My dear little wife, being so obedient now.” When whispering, his voice sounded much deeper. It turned you on. His hands found your clothed breasts, squeezing them roughly, but as your hand caressed the back of his head calmly, he softened his touch. He raised his head and locked eyes with you before kissing you for the second time, since you arrived on this planet. 

The blanket was fully gone now, thrown into the last part of the bed. Your nightdress pulled up, so his hands had free access to your naked skin. Feyd enjoyed tracing the curves of your body, savoring every glimpse he could get of you. “Yes, so pretty like that. You like it too, don’t you, little mouse?” He grinned and his face moved closer to your face again to fully capture your expression in this dimly lit room. “I like it very much, husband.” “Feyd. Say my name.” His lips lingered over yours, waiting for it. “I like it very much, Feyd.” You repeated. A growl leaving his throat, he pressed his lips to yours. 

His right hand wandered down to your clothed cunt. He brushed over it, making you whine into his mouth. He grinned, slipping his hand underneath your panties and gliding his fingers through your heat. “You´re so wet, my dear. Is that all for me?” A moan escaped your mouth at his words. Oh how his deep voice and words turned you on. You were sure, he could make you come just with it alone. Not trusting your voice, you nodded. He watched you, as his fingers played with your sensitive area. Gradually, he lowered his lips, planting kisses along your cleavage, grazing over your nipples, and trailing down to your stomach. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your lace panties. “They are so pretty, but unfortunately, they have to go.” Feyd remarked.

After they were thrown onto the floor, Feyd leaned down between your legs, placing small kisses on your inner thighs. You arched your back at the pleasure and quiet whimpers escaped your throat. Feyd made his way to your pussy and gave it a lick, making you shudder. “You like that?” He grinned suggestively at you, revealing his black teeth. But he didn´t wait for an answer, instead he ravished you like a starving man. His big hands were placed on either side of your hips to keep you pressed into the mattress, since it was difficult for you to stay still. Quickly, two fingers entered you, moving slowly. Your moans grew louder, searching hands buried themselves in the black sheets. “I am going to come, Feyd!” Goosebumps spread all over your body, you were so close to your release. “Then come, little mouse!” He commanded and you let yourself go fully. It was a climax like you never had before when touching yourself alone. Your husband was definitely very skilled. 

After you had calmed down a little, Feyd loomed over you. His lips found yours again and he rutted against your body. Even though he was still clothed, you could feel how turned on he was. “Gonna have my way with you now, yea?” He chuckled, leaning back to pull his pants down. Your eyes widened at his length and thickness, as you starred at his dick. You began to worry how it was going to fit inside you. Feyd saw the change in your expression and bend back down, holding himself up with one arm next to your head, while the other pumped his cock slowly. “Don´t worry, dear. I will be gentle.” He planted a kiss to the tip of your nose and you locked eyes with him. His now gentle and tender actions made you wonder, if it was just a tactic to make you trust him. Despite this uncertainty, you didn´t sense any unease in your gut. 

You gave him a shy smile and your hands found his strong shoulders. “Will you put this off as well? I want to see you.” Your words amused him, he enjoyed the way you behaved. “Everything my little wife wants.” He answered proudly, feeling his ego boosted and leaning back to remove his shirt. You mustered his pale skin - it was white like snow. Curious fingers grazed over his muscles, Feyd placed his hand over yours. It made you feel safe. There was no longer anger or violence directed towards you.

You gazed at each other for a while, neither of you feeling the need to break eye contact. It was easier to read his emotions now, and it was clear that he wanted the same thing as you did. You freed your hand out of his hold and placed it on his strongly erected member. Gently, you started stroking him. Feyd closed his eyes and tilted his head back from the pleasure he was feeling. You tightened your grip, precome dripping out of the tip. It was such an arousing view. 

Suddenly Feyd gripped your wrists and placed them over your head. “I want to come inside you, little mouse.” He breathed huskily in your ear. You didn’t mind this at all, finally feeling his touch on your body was exhilarating. You had always desired his attention. 

There was some impatience in his movements now. Feyd stared at your naked body underneath him, while his free hand positioned your hips at the perfect angle. You felt yourself clamping down on nothing, wanting to be filled up by his pretty cock. “My love, you look irresistible. You won´t be getting any sleep tonight.” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine, excitement bubbling in your stomach. Before he entered you, he freed your wrists out of his grasp to support his own weight. You panicked for a second as it seemed like he was going to lean back, and you really disliked not having him close in this vulnerable situation. Feyd smiled, his face only mere inches from yours. “I'm not going anywhere.” He reassured you with his raspy voice and captured your lips.

Kissing him shifted your focus away from the pain between your legs, as he pushed inside your tight hole. “Doing so good for me, doll.” He hushed your whimpers, pressing you closer to his warm body. You felt safe in his arms, being able to relax completely. After he was fully sheathed inside you, he let you adjust to his size.

Blinking slowly, you opened your eyes and looked at him. His eyes were already fixed on your features. Small praises left his lips, before he loosened his hug on you and brought his arms next to your head. You felt so small when he was hovering over you like this. Not long after, Feyd started to move his hips. First, he was gentle and slow but as your moans grew louder, he quickened his pace. Your hands wandered over his wide, muscled back, fingernails causing small scratches to appear. The pain spurned him on. “They gave me such a perfect wife, taking me so well.” Your husband praised and placed a kiss on your forehead. You shuddered and felt your release being close. Feyd´s thrusts started to become sloppy and unsteady as well. He cursed under his breath and bit into your shoulder. You squeaked at the sudden pain. “Feyd, I am close.” You whispered. He lifted his head again and grinned. “Good girl, yea… I am close too.” He growled, his eyes turning even darker. You caught a glimpse of primal instinct in them, like you were his prey. “Come for me whenever you are ready, little mouse.”

Feyd pulled out completely, only his tip touching your entrance slightly. Then in a fast movement, he pushed inside again, going in so deep his dick kissed your cervix. You made a startled sound and in the next moment could only moan. He was hitting all the right places, which made you come hard. Your back arched off the mattress, while moaning your husband’s name in bliss. Feyd had waited for your climax until he let himself go and filled you up with his seed. “So good... so good for me.” He rasped, out of breath, still coming down from his high. 

You had closed your eyes, only opening them when Feyd was moving over you. He had leaned back on his heels. One hand was placed protectively over your stomach, while the other held up your leg. He watched his cum drip out of your pussy. When his attention returned to your face, he grinned slyly. “Not done with you yet.” You were quickly turned around on all fours. “Yes, stay like that.” Feyd´s body was pressed into your back and his dick rubbed on your ass. He was growing bigger and bigger every second. Calloused fingers found their way into your hair and he tugged harshly on it. “Going to fill you up again. That´s what you wanted, am I right, little mouse?” You could hear how much he enjoyed teasing you.

There was no time for a reply, as he pushed inside of you with ease and you couldn’t surpress the moan that escaped you at the feeling of the stretch. The sensation nearly stole your breath away and Feyd immediately set a rapid pace. In this angle he felt significantly larger and deeper than before. All you could manage were small whimpers in response to the overwhelming sensation. 

Feyd´s free hand, that was placed on your waist, landed a sharp slap on one of your cheeks. The pain made you hiss through clenched teeth and you turned your head slightly to look back at him. Pleasure and lust were written on his face and when you caught his eyes, a smirk appeared. “Don’t look at me like this, love. I know you liked it, clenching down on me so tightly.” He pulled your hair back, forcing you to sit up. Your back was pressed against his chest when he whispered into your ear. “Tell me how much you like it.”

A shudder went down your spine and you whined. He was so deep inside of you. With a shaky hand you pressed down on your lower belly to feel the bulge Feyd was creating. “It feels really good-ah!” You answered him. “You like it, when I fuck you like this, little mouse?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yes, yes Feyd.” Seconds later your orgasm approached and you came hard on his cock. Soft lips were gently pressed to your cheek, while you tried to catch your breath. Even though his thrusts were harsh, abusing your insides, he still handled you with care.

His pace didn’t falter as he was hunting his own release. Your body went limp, but he held you up on strong arms, moving you back on dick. And again, he filled you up with a huge amount of his seed. 

He actually stayed true to his word of not letting you sleep the whole night. When a faint light filtered through the windows, signaling the arrival of morning, you had just reached your 5th or 6th climax. You weren't even sure because, at some point, logical thoughts ceased to form in your head.

Feyd laid you down gently as your eyes were closed from tiredness. He had fetched a wet cloth to wipe you clean. The coolness was soothing against your feverish skin. After he finished, you felt the mattress sink in as he laid down next to you. Protective hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you close to his body. "Mine," he whispered softly and placed a tender kiss on your temple. If you weren't going to fall pregnant after this night, you didn’t even know what to believe in anymore. 

[aritsukemo]

I don’t know if your requests are open, but I simply love your writing! May I have a Zhongli/Venti/Xiao Prompt with a reader who’s secretly a god from another world?

Finding out you're secretly a god | Genshin Impact

( @scar8o )

Summary: After your powers are revealed in a heat of the moment decision, you and your partner have a much needed conversation..

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, and Venti

Warnings: Nothing much. Mentions of reader facing discrimination in Xiao's and slight tears towards the end of Xiao's as well.

A/N: AGHHHH this took months to finally write, but I'm glad I finally got the push I needed to finish this! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope you enjoy this little collection of drabbles I put together! :D

A yellowish-orange shade was cast over Teyvat just like it would any other evening. Nothing had changed; the wind was still blowing, wildlife was as and as wild as ever, and the grass was still the same old greenish tinge.

Well, today, Xiao supposes that something has changed. For the first time in years, there was complete silence between you two. Being the chatterbox that you were, it was never like this since you're always rambling on about whatever popped into your head—whether that'd be how your day went, what you should do tommorow, or even the most trivial things like which colored cloth you should use to wipe off your weapons.

But that particular evening, you didn't utter a word. You simply sat there, knees to your chest as you gazed at the sun slowly setting upon the horizon. It felt odd for Xiao—awkward if he were to be so mundane. At the same time, he had no way of relieving this odd, awkward tension from the air. He had so many question stirring in his head that could at least fill the air with something of substance, and yet, he felt hesitant to voice any of them.

But he has to say something. If he doesn't, he fears that he'll never get his questions answered. So, without looking your way, he asks, "Who..are you really?"

You don't answer immediately and for a moment, Xiao thought you didn't hear him at all. Before he can repeat himself, however, he hears your voice, low and uncharacteristically sullen as you tell him, "Someone who doesn't belong here.."

He doesn't realize it, but upon hearing your response and looking over at you, his eyes softened—and just like the snow he used to munch down to prevent himself from starving to death, his golden hues glistened in the light of the setting sun. He didn't know what to say to that. Or rather, he couldn't think of anything to say that would be comforting to your ears.

That's one the things about you that he's fond of, but is also envious of. You always knew the right thing to say even when he thought you didn't. It's one of his favorite things about you..

"Look, I'm sorry for lying to you for so long.." You said before heaving a long, tired sigh. One that sounded as if you've been holding it for ages, "In my own world, people despised me and this power so much so that they tried everything they could to make my life miserable.."

"Adults, kids, girls, boys, women, and men.. Even when they were more different than the galaxies above, the one thing that was always the same was the way they looked at me.. That deep swirl of hatred in their eyes as they stared at me..like I was some kind of monster.. No matter what I did for them, it never changed," Xiao chooses to ignore the way your voice cracks midway through your sentence—the signal that the glass dam inside you was beginning to crack..

"When I got here, I saw this as my brethren relieving me of that pain..like a fresh start. I was so happy..and so, so scared. I was terrified of the past happening again so I swore to do everything in my power to keep that part of me hidden for as long as I was able.."

At this point, he could see those crystal tears rolling down your face, the translucent trail they left glimmering in the sun's glow. He's never seen them before. You never allowed him to and now, he's grateful that you never did because the sight of you crying made his chest feel heavy and empty, causing it to ache. The sight was painful. It felt wrong associating this feeling with something so..human, but it's the only thing to describe this black hole forming where his heart's supposed to be..

And in attempt to fill that feeling, he finally asks, "Do you think this power of yours will bring harm to the people of Liyue?" You finally glance at him, confusion written all over that tear-stricken face of yours. He merely looks at you with expectancy, so you eventually croak out a small, "No.."

"Do you ever think that you'll try to take over Liyue and force it's people under your thumb?" He threw another question at you, and this time, you answered quickly, blurting out an offended sounding, "Of course not! Do you think I would?"

"No," He answered immediately, "But as the protector of this land, I had to make sure we were on the same page before I said anything else," And he gets up. Your crystalized eyes follow after him, confusion beginning to swirl along with a headache—the result caused by your near-breakdown just now.

"Wha.." You begin, but your voice dies in your throat as he offers you a hand and looks you in the eyes like he would any other day—as if everything was normal.

"You said before that after all of this was over, you'd drag me off somewhere to 'wind down', didn't you? Well, I'm allowing you this once to do so without having any resistance on my end," He clarifies, and that's when it finally clicks in your mind; nothing has changed. The world is still spinning, the once clear, orange sky has turned blue and starry. Xiao is still willing to reach out to you, still willing to stare at you with adoration and love, and be around you. He still sees you as simply Y/n.

And you find yourself brought to tears all over again. Yet this time, it's due to sheer relief instead of anxiety and agony. It's because of the happiness you feel as you reach out your hand and let yourself be helped up like some damsel..

..And it's all becase of Xiao, who's kind enough to see you as something other than a monster. Something lesser than a divine god or goddess, but as simply another person of the land who he should protect.

"So when did you figure it out?" You asked to the man who sat across from you at the table—although to others it seemed as though you were talking to your tea from how your eyes were trained on it the entire time you spoke, pupils following every ripple it made with every slight of your hand.

The man across from you—who you've called many endearments over the years of knowing him—simply hummed at your question, taking the time to grab his own tea cup before answering just as casually, "Some time ago. I've had some theories of my own for a while now, but..outside assistance helped to point me in the right direction."

"So the traveler told you," You stated, your tone leaving no room for him to lie or say otherwise—a silent testament that it was futile to try and deny something you already seen as a fact, but he attempted anyways.

"Not exactly," He said, "It was a slip of the tongue on Paimon's part, a small one at that, I barely noticed it myself." And this time, you hum, closing your eyes as you at last take a sip of your tea—which has long since gotten cold since it arrived at your table.

You take a long, slow sip, as if you were buying time, or maybe, simply trying to collect all the thoughts swirling in your head and condense them in a coherent, civil sentence. Whatever it is, Zhongli allows you that time and patiently waits for you to finally set your cup down again..

"So? What do you plan to do with me now that you know?" The question comes off blunt—slightly threatening to the unintelligent ears, but it doesn't phase Zhongli. After all, he knows that you weren't threatening him, but more rather felt threatened. Similar to a cornered bunny who's only defense weapons are its fluffy, dull nubs.

"Nothing at all," He says, and at last your eyes cross the table to look him in the eyes. He does the same, granting you the same favor.

There's a moment of silence between you two in that moment. You silently demand an answer to his previous answer and the light thrumming of your fingers against the smooth, expensive wood gave away your impatience, your growing anxiety, and most importantly your fear. It's a discomforting sight to see of his usually calm lover, and so, he's quicker to respond to you in hopes of relieving your tension.

"You hold me in such high regard, dear. And while I'm flattered, may I remind you that I'm simply a consultant. I have no power to do anything other than grant you a comfortable resting place to lay your head when you pass," He closes his eyes, breaking eye contact with you to bless you with a small, polite smile, "A question like that would be more fit for the Tianquan, would it not?"

"In my humble opinion, though, I think it best if you didn't stir a pot that has already settled. Going to Lady Ningguang over something she knows nothing about is not needed, don't you agree?"

He opens his eyes again to look at you, only having the luxury to catch the tail end of your reaction to him deciding to sweep this under the rug before your expression smoothens out and a smile eases onto your face and your fingers move to lace around your cup once again..

"I suppose you're right. Forget I said anything then."

"Who knew my windblume could be even more extraordinary than I once thought?" He told you under that massive oak tree—The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero—after sneaking away with you, who was just praised the entire evening for your heroic deeds.

"You flatter me," You said before letting out a chuckle. Venti chose not to comment on how it sounded drier than how the fruits up in Celestia look, "Really, I don't deserve such praise.."

"On the contrary! You were Mondstadt's savior today! Not to mention mines!" He said cheerily, "If it weren't for you, Mondstadt would've been robbed of this bard's melodious melodies!"

You found yourself huffing at the absurdity of his words before you can stop yourself. Making up for the slip-up with a half-hearted, agreeing hum.

"You're a fool.. Having a dangerous being such as myself leisurely lay on you like this.." You whisper into his thigh as you turn on your side, your voice muffling due to half of your face being smothered by the puff of his shorts. Your comment was heard nonetheless and earned a chuckle from the bard.

"Love makes one do foolish things," He simply replies, before you feel something cold and smooth against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and out of the corner of your eyes you see the familar red hue that you would only see plastered on one of the delicious treats the Cuihua Trees so graciously gift Teyvat.

You take the apple from his grasp, once again laying flat on your back as you hold the apple above you as if to tantalize yourself.

"I'm serious. You shouldn't be this nice to me anymore, Barbatos," Another slip of the tongue—one promptly ignored and immediately pushed to back of both of your minds, "I'm nothing but a weapon of destruction."

"That you may have been in the past, but as of now, you're simply a bartender at Angel's Share who's fallen head over heels for a skillful bard; me," He replies after swallowing the chewed, sweet chunks in his mouth that came from his apple—which has already been half-eaten at this point.

And you find yourself huffing again. This time at the realization that he was right—at least the part about being hopelessly in love with him anyways..

"You had a long day, so why not you rest after you eat? I'll strum you a gentle tune that'll carry you away to pleasant dreams, ehehe~!" He suddenly suggest—an obvious attempt at deading the conversation where it stands before you say something too depressing to brush off easily. You pretend to not notice, deciding to accept your defeat for now, as you nod, finally bringing the apple down to your lips and taking a bite, being careful to chew the bite thoroughly before swallowing..

"That sounds nice.. Maybe resting my eyes wouldn't be so bad."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[ladyloveandjustice]

Running the Gauntlet: A Natsume Yuujinchou fanfic (Part 1)

Part 1 of my fanfic based on the idea I had in this post about Natsume's running abilities making his life at school difficult that blew up.

Includes a couple silly footnotes!

Running the Gauntlet

“I wish Natsume wasn’t our anchor,” a classmate complained.

Natsume flinched. It’s not like I wanted to be, he thought glumly. He pretended he hadn’t heard, hunching over and tying this shoe. So many students and teachers milling around on the grass, waiting for the big event, whoever it was probably hadn’t noticed he was nearby.

But then, Nishimura’s response made him feel even worse.

“Man, shut up. You haven’t really seen Natsume run. He’s friggin’ fast. We’re lucky to have him.”

Natsume appreciated Nishimura standing up for him, but inwardly he was screaming at him to please stop talking about this.

Then Kitamoto chimed in, “Yeah, one of the first times we saw him outside of school, he basically dashed out of the woods at warp speed. So don’t be rude.”

He saw Kitamoto glance quickly at him, clearly aware might be in earshot.

“Fast? Come on you two, I know he’s your friend, but the guy is sickly. You’re expecting me to believe someone who collapses every other day is a good runner? I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, I’m just not counting on him to win this”. The classmate, who rarely spoke to Natsume, adjusted his glasses.

“You’ll see,” Nishimura said smugly.

Natsume groaned inwardly, straightening up.

He eyed the various students hanging out in different colored headbands, the boy handing out water bottles from the tent, and some teachers talking off to the side.  There was even a chattering crowd on the small set of bleachers. A crowd that included parents.

But worst of all was the looping black track, sizzling in the sun before him. He, Nishimura, and the rest who’d been chosen for the relay race would be lining up on it soon.

He hated Sports Day.

To be fair, this was his least hated sports day so far. He’d never actually experienced sports day while having friends before. When he was a kid, he could expect being pushed to the ground and mocked, or having classmates complaining loudly to teachers about being paired up with the liar. Best case scenario was he’d merely have to feel lonely as he was left out of class celebrations, watching parents and friends cheer others on when there was no one to cheer for him.

But this year he’d been able to cheer wildly for Taki during the bean bag toss, laugh at Tanuma as he was forced to dance awkwardly with the rest of his class during their group performance, and smile as Tanuma got some sweet revenge by beating him at the scavenger hunt. He’d gotten to high five Kitamoto and Nishimura after every victory, and even Sasada once.

So many parents being here was still a little intimidating, though. He kept expecting one of them to yell at him to get away from their kid, even though he knew it wasn’t like that anymore. The Fujiwaras hadn’t been able to come, as they had a relative’s wedding to attend today. Natsume hadn’t even told them today was sports day, because he didn’t want them to feel bad about it. He was also kind of relieved they couldn’t come, because he would have been even more nervous if they were watching.

Overall, it had been a good day. He was basically enjoying himself.

But there was no getting over the dread of his biggest obstacle yet—the relay race. He was really going to have to pay attention to his running. It was such a tough balance…he didn’t want to let down the class, but he also needed to think of…

“Natsume, are you okay?” He blinked, noticing Sasada was suddenly next to him. “You were spacing out a bit.”

“I’m fine! Actually, are you okay?” She looked pale, and she kept fiddling with her glasses. It was strange to see her without the usual air of confidence.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. She’d been chosen for the relay race too, and was looking at the track with almost as much trepidation as he was.

“Sasada! Natsume!”  Nishimura ran forward before Natsume could reassure her. “It’s all up to us!”

“Yay,” Sasada said blandly.

“Whar’a wrong, Sasada?” Nishimura grinned smugly at her “Worried you’re gonna be the sports day cliché?”

“The…what?”

“You’ve seen it on TV, right? In anime and stuff? There’s always the one person who trips during the relay race. They scramble to their feet, tears in their eyes, and pass off their baton…” Nishimura imitated the gesture dramatically. “But don’t worry! You can trip all you want, I’m so fast it won’t matter! No need to be nervous!”

Sasada shook her head, putting her glasses back on. “You know what, your stupidity has calmed my nerves a bit, thank you,”

“Glad to be of service.”

---

Considering all that, Natsume wasn’t exactly surprised when Nishimura was the one who tripped.

Natsume winced when his friend went down, hoping he wasn’t hurt. It would be okay, right? Nishimura was so good-humored. This wasn’t a big deal or anything. He’d just laugh it off and…

Nishimura stumbled up, his knee bleeding, his face burning with shame. Natsume could see his eyes were brimming with tears. Of course he was devastated. Nishimura may act carefree, but he hated letting people down.

Natsume sighed.

Fine then.

“Nishimura!” He called out, offering his hand. “Don’t give up! I’ve got this!”

Nishimura’s face lit up instantly. He jogged as fast as he could and slammed the baton in Natsume’s hand. Natsume faced forward. The others had a massive head start, but that wasn’t enough to make him give up.

A yokai is chasing me, he told himself. A big one with sharp teeth.

And next thing he knew, he was crossing the finish line.

Cheers exploded around him as the other runners caught up, lagging after him. And then, suddenly, what seemed to be the entire class was rushing towards him. He had to resist the urge to put his hands up defensively.

Nishimura slammed into him from the side, embracing him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was whooping and laughing. Heat spread up Natsume’s neck and face. It was the first time Nishimura had ever hugged him. Or cried so openly in front of him. He knew it was considered fine for guys to cry and hug only when it involved sports for some reason, but it was still a surprise.  He wasn’t used to that kind of intimacy. Not that it was bad. It was kind of nice.

 The rest of his class gathered around him, yelling things like “way to go” and “that was amazing!” Even Sasada, her face still red and sweaty from her run, was screaming her head off and jumping up and down. Kitamoto clapped Natsume on the back and soon several classmates followed suit. Natsume was sure a red handprint was permanently etched on his back now.

“Dude, I knew you were fast, but I didn’t know you were that fast!!” Nishimura yelled through his tears.

“Seriously, do you have a secret running regimen I don’t know about, or is it just natural talent?” Kitamoto said.

Natsume heard some more cheering explode behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see an uncharacteristically excited Tanuma waving at him from the other side of the track, “Congrats, Natsume!”

“Tanuma, you could at least… pretend to care… that our class lost,” said the boy Natsume had gone up against, still doubled over and panting.

“Sorry.”

There was loud whistle from the stands and Natsume saw it came from Taki. The girl next to her had covered her ears. Taki didn’t notice, and let out another impressively strong blast, waving at him. She removed her knuckles from her mouth and shouted “Woo, Natsume!”

Natsume was torn between being happy his friends supported him and so embarrassed he could die.

“I owe you an apology, Natsume,” said the boy with the glasses, whoever he was.

“Hell yeah you do!” Nishimura responded.

“Nishimura…” Kitamoto’s said scoldingly, his eyes flicking to Sasada.

“Ah…I’m sorry too, Sasada,” Nishimura said sincerely. “You really showed me.” (Sasada had been fast enough to give Nishimura a head start, as Natsume suspected she would be, she’d certainly caught up to him out of nowhere plenty of times in the early days of their relationship).

Sasada wasn’t listening, she was looking at a fit girl with short black hair from another class, who was also still panting from the race. “How about that, Chiyo!” she called over to her.

“You win this one, but I’ll get you next time, Jun! Just you wait!” Chiyo called with a matching huge grin and an excited look in her eyes. For some reason Sasada blushed delicately in response*.

“Okay, okay, give him some room to breathe,” Kitamoto said, shooing at the others. They all stepped back, though Nishimura remained by Natsume’s side. Natsume was grateful for Kitamoto, he was dizzy and overwhelmed. He’d had no idea races like this were such a big deal to people. He was more grateful than ever the Fujiwaras weren’t here to add on to all this.

“Look Natsume!” Sasada had finally torn her eyes away from the other girl and was pointing at the stands. “Even the track coach looks impressed!”

“No wonder, you’re faster than half her team,” Kitamoto said. “Bet she tries to recruit you!”

Natsume’s stomach dropped like a stone. Indeed, the track coach, a woman with short brown hair and sharp eyes, was looking at him with interest. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. His personal hell had returned. Had winning a measly race been worth it?

Natsume looked over at Nishimura, who was still jumping up and down and hollering about how he was going to treat Kitamoto, Sasada and Natsume to some manju, not even minding when Kitamoto snarked at him about it how it must be a cold day in hell if the man who sponged off everyone was paying the tab for once. He flashed Natsume another ecstatic grin, and Natsume smiled back.

Yeah, it had been worth it.

--

Natsume had experienced a lot of reoccurring horrors, but the most annoying of them was being hounded by track coaches at every school he went to.

Apparently, spending most of his life running from yokai had made him faster than the average person. He’d been unaware of this until his first year of middle school. When it came time to run the track, Natsume had heard whispers around him, a couple of the kids placing bets on when he’d collapse. One boy had even smacked him on the shoulder and screamed “The liar’s gonna come in dead last!” in his ear.

Natsume hadn’t really done much racing against other kids on the playground, and he’d been sick during a lot of gym classes, so he’d also figured he’d struggle against the other kids. It had completely shocked everyone, himself included, when he blew past them all with ease. He’d reached the finish line only to find the other kids several feet behind him, panting and gawking.

The gym teacher’s eyes had gone wide, and he’d immediately started urging Natsume to join the track club. The man had even gone to Natsume’s current guardians about it.

His guardians had resented that he was getting attention while their real kid was an overlooked benchwarmer on the baseball team. They’d thrown lots of snide comments Natsume’s way. And…well, he hadn’t had a good time on the track team at all. When he’d inevitably had to move again after those same guardians got tired of him, leaving the track club behind had been the silver lining.

Upon transferring to a new school, he’d decided to keep his speed under wraps. But then a coach noticed him running when he was late for class one day and his troubles started all over again. At first he’d avoided the coach by coming up with excuses about responsibilities or detention or headaches, but eventually he was just reduced to hiding under the bleachers when he saw the man.

At another school, a coach tried to recruit him for her team SO aggressively he’d made the stupid mistake of running away when he saw her—and naturally, seeing how fast he could book it had just increased her interest.

So, when he was gathering up all the extra water bottles from the hydration station tent at end of the day, and saw the track coach approach him, his heart started pounding, He fought back his urge to bolt, even a flashbacks filled his brain.

“Natsume, right? I’m Sakuragi, if you don’t remember,” The woman had a wide, genuine smile. He’d only spoken to her a few times, but he was pretty sure she was Taki’s homeroom teacher. “You showed some impressive hustle today! Have you ever thought of joining the track team?”

Fortunately, Natsume had his excuses pre-prepared. “Oh wow, that’s such an honor, Sensei!” He said, continuing to gather up the water bottles while still maintaining polite eye contact. “But, you see, I get sick very easily, so joining a team is a bad idea. I’d just end up being absent a lot, and I’d let the team down.”

“That’s not a problem.” To his horror, the teacher bent down and started picking up the water bottles herself.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself—” He began quickly, but she cut him off, saying “ I’d never require you to come in when you’re not feeling well. You wouldn’t need to worry about calling out sick. We’re a fairly large team, so other students can easily sub in for you if you can’t make a race.”

What kind of laid back track team was this? Never mind, Natsume had a backup excuse. “Well, that’s great, but I’m also concerned about making trouble for my foster parents. It’s a lot to ask them, and I don’t want to put them out. I’d be around to help them less. They’d have to pay for expenses, like when overnight trips at the inn when we go to other towns, or shoes—”

“The school supplies the shoes and other essentials, and we can cover trip expenses if need be. Also, I chat with Ms. Fujiwara at the grocery store often, and she loves bragging about you. I can’t see her turning down a chance for you to develop your skills and enjoy some team spirit!”

Natsume looked down at his shoes, sure that he was tomato red right now. Touko bragged about him? What did he even do worth bragging about? “He only missed ten days of class this month”? “His grades were perfectly mediocre again”? “He hasn’t come home covered in dirt in a while”? “He made five whole friends in school, somehow?”*

Still, through his embarrassment, he felt a little warm inside. She was proud of him. It was a still a new feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to do with this strange, shy happiness.

“Natsume?” The coach’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Is there anything else bothering you, or would you like to come do a practice session with us? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to join. I’ll respect your decision.”

“I…” Natsume was searching for another excuse.  

 Nishimura jogged up. “Natsume, do you need any—" He noticed who Natsume was talking to and his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, Sensei! Natsume, are you being recruited? That’s so cool!”

“Ah, you were his teammate today, right?” Sakuragi smiled at Nishimura kindly.

Nishimura flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Natsume really saved me out there. He’s a dependable guy! And he’s a great runner!”

Nishimura flashed a grin at Natsume, who was wishing he had telepathy so he could tell him to stop. He tried to send a signal by shaking his head slightly, but Nishimura wasn’t looking now.

“Well, that definitely sounds like track team material,” Sakuragi said jovially. She turned to Natsume. “Looks like your friends vouch for you. But it’s up to you, Natsume. Would you mind just stopping by?”

Natsume couldn’t bring himself to directly say no to a teacher in the first place, and now Nishimura and his enthusiasm had been added to the mix. “I’ll give it a try,” he mumbled, forcing a smile.

“Great! Just come to the track after school tomorrow. I think you’ll find it’s a lot more fun than you’re thinking.”

Natsume kept the smile fixed on as they carried the water bottles back into school. When the coach departed and they came ouside again, he and Nishimura met Taki and Tanuma. As always, Nishimura immediately started blushing and fidgeting , but as always, Taki failed to notice.

“I saw you with Sakuragi-sensei!” she said with a smile. “Impressing her is a big feat, Natsume! And don’t worry, she’s really nice.” She put her hand on Natsume’s shoulder, and Nishimura let out a strangled squeak. “She won’t get mad at you, whatever you decide.”

“Are you okay?” Tanuma said softly. Clearly both he and Taki had noticed he wasn’t actually happy right now.

“I’m fine,” Natsume said, letting the fake smile drop away and replacing it with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll just check it out. No big deal.”

---

“I don’t get why you’re whining so much about it,” Nyanko-sensei said, trotting beside Natsume as he walked to school the next day. “It’s just one measly meeting. What’s so bad about this running team thing anyway?”

“The people who took care of me when I joined the track team the first time were really bothered by it. They didn’t like having to drive me places, or the attention I got—”

“The Fujiwara’s aren’t like that, so that’s a stupid excuse.”

“That’s true, but it’s more than that,” Natsume sighed. “Last time, I was constantly late or absent. A yokai would attack me or I’d get sick...”

“Wimp.”

“Shut up, Sensei. Anyway, whenever that happened, the coach yelled at me for flaking out. I let everyone down.”

“But this woman said it doesn’t matter if you’re sick and can’t come, right?”

“She says that now, but she might change her mind,” Natsume mumbled.

“You’re so gloomy,” Nyanko-sensei shook his head. “It’s annoying.”

“Look, even if what she says is true, my teammates probably won’t like me. They didn’t last time. And I just…I just hated the feeling of all those people looking at me.”

He’d struggled a bit with just the sports day crowd watching him, but being on a real team was a million times worse. All those people judging, all their hopes riding on him not messing up… He shivered, remembering the way his skin had crawled, the way his breathing turned funny, the way his hands had shook. All those eyes on him…the weight of their gaze had made him want to curl up so small they couldn’t see him anymore.

“And there’s the actual reason. You’re bad with other people and you get stage fright. Boring.” Sensei yawned. “Just get over it. You have yokai trying to eat you all the time, why’s this scary?’

“I’d rather deal with yokai than the track team,” Natsume said emphatically.

Nyanko-sensei scoffed.

“A couple years ago there was this coach who was always chasing after me to recruit me. I was running from her, trying to get off school grounds so she couldn’t follow me, but then I saw that there was this huge yokai on the path out of school. Big fangs, sharp teeth, claws, all that.  I’d have to double back to avoid it, and the coach would catch me. So… I took the better option, and I ran past the yokai.”

“Idiot. Did it attack you?”

“I took a swing at me and knocked me out. But because of that the teacher was reprimanded for making the sickly kid collapse and they threatened to fire her if she ever chased a student again. She stopped trying to ask me after that. So it all worked out.”

“I don’t understand humans,” Sensei sighed. “Anyway, I’m in favor of the track team. If it helps you run faster, that means less of you getting snatched by yokai and less work for me.”

“Stop being lazy and trying to skip out on your bodyguard duties, Sensei. Yokai shouldn’t be chasing me down in the first place, it’s your job to take care of them.”

“I’ve got my own life to live! Stop being so selfish!”

“I’m the selfish one?”

They bickered all the way to the school gate, and though Natsume would never admit it to Nyanko-sensei, it did make him feel a lot better.

---

Part 1 complete! Part 2 to come. This is probably about halfway there, if not more.

Footnotes:

*Yes, Sasada has a sports and academic rival yuri storyline in the background. Yes I'm being self indulgent. It's what she deserves. It probably won't come up much more, I just thought it would be funny. Sasada's having this whole romantic epic while Natsume's worrying about track.

*Touko has been bragging about how kind and helpful you are, Natsume, you dummy. And about the garden he made and how it was good it was and other things Natsume does really well he hasn't noticed. She's also probably noticed he's fast and relatively strong for his size, he's always fetching and carrying stuff for her, but Coach thought she was exaggerating. UNTIL NOW.

[ozzgin]

hai,baby ...I know your request is closed now. And if you don't mind, can I leave my request when your blog is open? ( If no that's okay,you can delete this request) alright....So, I really like the butterfly demon that you made for Inuyasha and Sesshomaru on request.And I thought what if the fem s/o butterfly demon had met Sesshomaru and Inuyasha ( separate please) when they were little (the fem s/o butterfly demon was also still a child at that time) Dancing on a hill or mountain with the moonlight shining on her and her beautiful butterfly wings,Instead of being surprised by them Femin s/o elegantly stretches out her hand to invite them to play or dance in the middle of the forest . ( Headcannon)

Definitely! I’m very glad you enjoyed the idea, all of my requests are always so creative! I wouldn’t write so much if it wasn’t for all the vivid prompts. The whole atmosphere you described immediately reminded me, for some reason, of this song from 'A Troll's Fairy Tale' Otome game. It just set up the whole mood of the story.

Inuyasha/Sesshomaru x Butterfly Demon! Reader Headcanons: First meeting

Featuring a young Inuyasha and Sesshomaru and their first encounter with the child demon.

Inuyasha

Inuyasha was never a child to cause trouble. He always clung to his mother's soft sleeves, quickly following behind her as his tiny footsteps barely made a sound against the polished tatami. So whatever possessed him that night is, to this day, beyond his understanding. Nonetheless, on a certain night with full moon, he snuck outside and ran across the tall grass and up the hill until he reached a glade.

It was almost as if someone had called him by his name, a mumbled, merely audible whisper echoing from the distance. He’d been to this place many times before with his mother, yet now it looked entirely different. His small body cowered before the crooked, swaying shadows of the tall trees and he wanted to run away, doubting his intentions. That’s when the clouds cleared and the patch of open greenery was once again bathed by pale light. He hadn’t noticed the other person. A child, like him, carelessly and effortlessly dancing around, indifferent to the world. Although it couldn’t have been a human. Inuyasha was very much familiar with demons given his own family, but he’d never seen one like this. Adorning her back, a pair of sheer, colorful wings fluttered gently in the wind.

He must’ve been staring rather intently, because the mysterious nocturnal artist finally noticed his presence. You seemed pleased by the idea of having company, so you enthusiastically skipped and twirled your way over, extending an inviting hand. He barely grazed his fingers against yours when the worried shouts of his mother startled him out of his trance. “I think I have to go back home”, he muttered apologetically. “Mom is looking for me.” And with that, he begun sprinting away, occasionally looking back to see if the butterfly girl would still be there.

Sesshomaru

Even as a child, Sesshomaru had always been aloof and independent. It wasn’t uncommon for him to disappear at random times, so no one would question it, especially given he’d always return safely. Sometimes he just needed time to himself and away from others, in order to gather his thoughts and also train, hoping to close the gap between him and his father. Other times he’d wander out of pure curiosity, out of the desire to explore.

It was during one of his nightly expeditions that he felt the sudden desire to follow along a certain path. He knew very well where it led, to one of the cozily hidden glades he’d visit for his sword training. Though he’d never been there after dark, so this was a first. Once he reached the forest clearing, he shuddered slightly at the cold wind. It was unexpectedly chilly for late spring and the cherry blossom branches creaked with the breeze, scattering clumps of petals. He surveyed the area with his big amber eyes and spotted some movement ahead. A girl his age. Or rather, a demon. He involuntarily reached for his sword, expectantly. You were too focused on your movements to realize his presence. A pirouette under the moonlight, and your wings spread open theatrically once you were finished. Sesshomaru was mesmerized.

You heard the quiet gasp and turned to your audience, chuckling at the young boy’s baffled expression. “You can join, too. I won’t mind.” You said reassuringly. Sesshomaru huffed, embarrassed to be caught so beguiled. “Why would I do something so silly?” He retorted, trying to play it cool. He folded his arms and looked away, uninterested. “You can just say you don’t know how to dance.” You teased, cheekily. This seemed to have hit a nerve, as the boy glared at you and answered with a puffed up chest, “S-so what about it, I’m a warrior, not a dancer!” You shrugged and hopped on a nearby rock for some elevation, continuing your little dance. As annoyed as he sounded, Sesshomaru continued to observe you, a faint blush warming his cheeks.

[zarvasace]

Shatterproof four splitting and all the colors spend their day with different other links? Maybe Blue with Wind and Wild, Vio with Wars and Hyrule, Red with Time and Legend and Green with Sky and Twillight! (just suggestions, you can mix and match them up maybe?)

I like these suggestions! :)

Just under 1k words—

---

“On your mark,” Wind says, “get set…”

Blue glares at the grassy ground, his muscles taut and brimming with energy. It's been several long weeks since Four split, and he's pent-up. Beside him, Wild’s heel shifts against the ground. 

“Go!” Wind slashes his hand through the air, and Blue and Wild take off. 

The route isn’t long, just across the clearing and back, so Blue is optimistic. It feels so good to stretch out, even if his pain is at a mid-level today. His feet pound against the tall grass and the hard dirt beneath, and though he tries, Wild pulls ahead. 

On the way back, Blue’s foot catches in a divot, and he goes sprawling. He scrapes his elbows but manages to stop himself before he flies too far. The world stops rolling. He stares up at the cloudy sky and sighs. 

Wild skids to a stop. “Blue! You okay?” 

“Fine,” Blue calls back, rolling up to sitting. And then, with a secret thrill of joy that he would never hold over any of the others’ heads, even if they know he feels it, he stands up. “I think I'm just out of practice. And your legs are longer anyway, freak, so you have an unfair advantage!” 

“Hey,” Wild protests, but he laughs. He hasn't made it to the other end of the clearing yet, worried for Blue. Wind raises his eyebrows when he meets Blue’s eyes. 

Blue walks calmly over, letting himself limp just a little. He laughs along with Wild. “It's just been a while since I ran, that's all.”

“Yeah, okay, I'll give you that,” Wild shrugs. 

And then Blue takes off again. He runs the last five or six steps to their designated finish line. “HA! I WON!” 

“Now that's unfair!” Wild says, jogging over. 

Wind collapses into laughter. 

---

At this point, after so many lessons and a lot of practice, Vio is only slightly better at signing than Hyrule. He's very happy for Hyrule, of course, but it does rankle his pride just a little, so he takes up Warriors on his invitation and joins the next little lesson. 

As he observes Warriors and Hyrule have a half-silent conversation, it becomes obvious that their communication is less about learning actual sign words or grammar and more about figuring out how to adapt it for the two of them. Everything Warriors says has to be in contact with Hyrule’s skin, one way or another, so Vio doesn't catch most of that. 

But Hyrule’s signs are pretty normal, since Warriors can see them, except for one thing. 

“That—” Vio starts, then bites his tongue.

“What?” Hyrule says. “Was that wrong?” 

“Um, only in that your spelling is… off.”

“It doesn't matter,” Warriors shrugs, hands flying. “I've figured out his phonetics.”

Vio makes a face. “Wars says it doesn't matter, he knows what you're saying anyway, but the perfectionist in me is frustrated.”

Hyrule laughs. “Sorry. I haven’t ever, you know, learned letters before. I figured I was getting some of it wrong.”

“You know,” Vio says thoughtfully, thinking back to his books at home, “I know there's a type of writing that was developed by people with low vision. I don't know much about it, but I know it exists in my time. I wonder if we could find some of it.”

“Oooooh,” Hyrule says, his eyes widening. 

---

Red picks another dandelion at the base of its stem, close to the ground. “And then you use your fingernail to make a little slit by the flower, like this! You can't make it too big, though.” He demonstrates, smiling at the way both Time and Legend lean in to see better. 

“And then…” He slides the stem of his next dandelion through the hole in the first. “Ta da!” 

“So pretty similar to a normal wildflower chain,” Legend says, copying Red and starting a dandelion chain of his own. “Do you ever put knots in it?” 

Red hums, considering. “No, I think these stems would break. They're tough but don't bend very well.”

“Sort of like Legend,” Time says, smiling. 

Legend huffs, but he can't hide the little smile of his own. “Sure. Whatever.” 

When Red finishes his dandelion chain, he loops it around into a crown and drops it right on Legend’s fluffy head. Legend returns the favor, putting his own dandelion chain on Red’s head, except it's a bit too wide, and it falls to his neck instead. 

Legend’s snort-laugh starts off a round of laughter that Red and Time can't easily shake. 

---

Twilight pulls out the shopping list again, adjusting his hold on the bag that sits over one shoulder as he does so. “So is that everything?” 

“Hm?” Sky says, looking back over at Twilight. “Oh. Yes. I think so.”

Green catches up, weighed down a little by a supply pack of his own on his back and the fact that even using crutches, he’s a bit short. “Wait, no, Wind needs a belt, and I need some more brass rivets.” 

Sky snaps his fingers. “Right, rivets! Hey, Wind didn't say anything about a belt… did he?” He glances at Twilight, who shakes his head.

“Wars keeps inventory,” Green explains. “And I noticed.”

Twilight puts away the shopping list. “Sounds like a trip to the leatherworks, then.”

Green eyes Twilight as he passes. “You could use a new sword belt, too. Let's see if they have anything with the D-rings. If not, I'll make one.” 

“Thanks, Green. What would we do without you?"

"Suffer."

[nfoliage]

I really want a dandadan wallpaper for myself!

Sketch - lineart - base color + planning

Some thoughts below.

The progress is really slow because i work on it during breaks, and it helped me stay motivated. They’re sitting on grass so maybe it’ll be finished just in time for spring? Maybe? I just know it’s going to be pretty.

I’m abandoning my usual steps for coloring. Usually it went something like… rough sketch, base color, straight to rendering in as few layers as possible. Only for me to fumble because then I start to notice inconsistencies, odd shapes, janky proportions, things that occur because my sketch wasn’t clean enough for me. Or, it would start off great, only for me to spend too much time on layer properties because now the lighting got weird. I first learned coloring with colored pencils and paint - and I think my brain got hardwired that way, so digital solutions, like cut-and-pasting already rendered pieces, or using 20 layer effects, weren’t doing me a favor. Digital and traditional colors work differently. Sometimes it turned out great, many other times it didn’t. It frustrated me and I was too stubborn to take a slower approach, which would be… to simply shade things.

So that’s what I am trying to do now! Working with things I already know I’m good at. I like to learn new stuff, but I think it’s about time I pick my lessons and polish what I have. I know, at least, that my eyes are good at color matching. Doing that will frustrate me less than using a multiply layer for everything. (I still use it, but, you know)

At any rate, I love these kids so damn much. It’s been my weekly dopamine hit ever since… the 6th chapter got published… I think. I remember vividly starting Dandadan when Aira’s story just concluded and she’s fighting with Mr. Shrimp and I was like, this is weird! With good art! HECKING GOOD ART! Great storytelling and clever characters! Oh, Momo is a badass. Wait, Okarun is one too. Wait, now Aira’s a badass. Wait, Jiji (Et cetera, et cetera. My favorites so far are Okarun, Aira, and Vamola.) What, Science Saru is going to animate? Oh, this going to be a hit. And I’m glad it did.

Adding this just in case - it’s not without issues. But i still love it. It got me through some depressing moments... I hope the hype continues until the end.

[mothduchess]

Kitsune HRT Part 4

Do you remember school?

Do you remember how time could itch as it crawled along at its tortuous pace? Even when things sped along it felt like it was ripping you up with it. The change was so slow, so monotonous, that you wouldn't realize that an hour had passed and that things have changed until the bell rang your skull. That's exactly what HRT is like. It's not a potion. Gods, I think everyone whose ever laid their eyes on these wretched bottles of joy wished they were, but no - HRT takes time, even when the acronym stands for something different. I was worried it'd end up like estrogen where progress was minimal and slow. While I was on the trail finally, I had to make sure the hike itself didn't exhaust my will to continue. But until now, my journal was clogged with no change except a growing frustration. It was morning once again as light dripped from the growing hole in the blinds, soaking the floor in a pale gold. I rose from the bed as the sheets fell down and looked. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing there. Noth- What was that? That, that right there! I rubbed my legs together and looked down, peering at my feet. Growing like moss I witnessed black fur cropping up from my skin. It wasn't like the hair that grew on my body during my first puberty years ago. It was softer and of a different texture, dark as pitch. As my fingers explored my lower extremities, I felt something beneath the skin as different. Near imperceptibly, but it was different nonetheless; digits felt shorter, closed; the nails were ever so harder and darker; the heel even felt like it was further from the ball of the foot. I took to the floor. Instantly I recognized the shift in gait and posture as my weight felt over my toes and lifting my heels ever so slightly up into the air. Right. Left. There was a noted bounce in each stride, more so than when I had done such a gait weeks prior - it'd cause my feet to ache and groan despite all the joy it provoked. I lurched towards my mirror. My arms lashed out in desperation, narrowly anchoring me in place before my head cracked upon my art desk. "Stupid wires... gotta get used to this balance." I tore my gaze from my feet and gasped - more than they had changed. It wasn't extreme. To call it a fur coat was an insult, but to call it mine was a pleasure. FUR. More than just the black fur upon the shifting feet, I saw reds and whites play across my skin. I ran my fingers across the colorful patches; it was hard to not become enraptured by how the light danced between each tuft of fur as a snake might slither through grass. It tickled my finger tips, snuck under my nails before flicking out and shifted when I leaned closer to the cracked open finger. My grin likely was swallowing my eyes. But it couldn't last - most of the fur vanished as I put on a shirt, obscuring the subtle wonder underneath cloth. The snow of melancholy fell quietly upon my mind before quickly melting into quiet creeks. No. I couldn't let the sadness grip me. "Remember Jen. It's all baby steps." The old leather chair cried out as I fell into its embrace before my computer, sliding on up. On autopilot my fingers worked their way around pill bottles to line up the morning dose. "I wonder if humanity replacement HRT is better as shots than pills..." The thoughts dissolved as the pills that spawned them did the same beneath the tongue. With a few simple keystrokes, I was online. The chatrooms and servers coated the screen, a comfortable patchwork quilt of all the friends and family I'd met over the years. But a slowness entered my fingers, lingered upon my tongue. My gaze wilted, falling to my feet.

The internet is truly excellent. It can bring so many people together, near effortlessly. From different walks and different worlds, I had met people who supported me. Who had been there for me. Their words had always been kind, their presence welcomed. But that didn't stop the cursor from quietly trudging across the screen and opening up a playlist. "They're not *here*," I reminded myself. I looked around my room; it called forth an image of a white box with far too few holes that it should have, in its sides. "I'll see them later. Just, a bit of relaxing first." I pressed play, sending my mind into itself. My eyes fell shut, the walls began to recede, and a new world took its place.

White sand gave way beneath her paws as she marked a path along the empty shore; emerald waves crawled with the tides as violet ships calmly bobbed off on the curving horizon, a red sun hanging high and far. Her tails drifted behind her with the silent wind. A parasol politely curled and twisted within her dainty grasp. Soft music drifted in from places unknown, filling the beach with serene strings and soaring melodies. One of the boats swung by, colored blue and gold with sails made of light and great wheels of fog that pushed it along. Atop the boat, whimsically dressed creatures waved back. Their features were smooth and simple, yet soft and pleasing. A hyena and a bear, a wolf and a pigeon, an owl and a rat. It was romantic. It was peaceful. Or it would, were it not for the shipwrecks. Scattered. Marred. Half-buried by the preadolescent sands. Old ships and forgotten hulls jutted from the nearby waters, bleached browns and gnarled blacks from relationships past. The kitsune looked at them, pain pulling down her smile. She kicked a crest of sand, trying to cover up the names of the ships. There weren't many, and yet they called to her with the strength of thunder, cried like the rain! A storm begun to roll in from above the viridian sea. She stepped back. Roses sprouted from her pawprints only to wither in the presence of the long dead boats. She shook her head, no no no. She turned to leave as the storm was clawing its way across the sky, no no no. She looked to the woods NO NO NO-!

My eyes snapped open. Lips parted in a spiraling crack as a nervous laughter slipped out, first quietly, before breaking its restraints and flying free from my throat. Every now and then a note would squeak more than holler, yet it still was rather human all-together. Slowly, I felt my composition return to me. Fretful fingers dragged at my elbows. I rolled the ugly truth around my mouth for a while, before looking out the window. Finally, a sigh left me. "You need to go out more, Jen." Kitsune HRT: 1 Moth Month -FUCK FUCK FUCK -FUUUUURRRRRRRRR!!!! -(Also paws???!!!??) -My balance is all kinds of weird right now. I cannot wait till those tails come in. Oooooh shoes might be a nightmare. -Anxiety is still a bitch. I wonder if the fox chemicals will help? -Though if my luck is anything, that one shift down the line will make me spiral. -P.S. Get pet shampoo

------------------------------------------------------------------- <PREV FIRST NEXT> A side path....? (Warning: horror elements) WOO! This one, while a bit shorter, is finally done! I hope yall are enjoying the more mental aspects of all this. I promise, we'll get to the juicy species changing stuff soon. Just trying to figure out how to fill out the roster, haha.

[defectivevillain]

home where

pairing: Wally Darling/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar place. The only other occupant, a friendly man named Wally, seems to think it’s home. …You disagree.

word count: 1.5k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical derealization

author's notes: I know virtually nothing about Welcome Home and its characters. It seems really cool, but I just didn’t have enough energy to commit myself to another fandom when I first wrote this (and I still feel the same). Maybe I’ll come back to WH and do a deeper dive someday! Who knows. I certainly don’t.

On a related note, I’ve decided I want to do some sort of Halloween oneshot collection this October. I have quite a few drafts for various movies and series that I wrote up a few months ago in preparation for this Halloween… and when I stumbled upon this draft, I realized it would be a great way to kick things off. So yeah! I will admit, without shame, that many (if not all) of the works in this "collection" will be slightly unfinished (aka less detailed than I may want them to be). But I still wanted these fics posted, and I know that they’ll likely just rot in my docs forever otherwise.

Your eyes are stinging. You rub at them roughly, letting out a quiet sigh. It’s been a pretty long day. You stumble through your nighttime routine with a bit less finesse than usual, counting down the seconds until you can collapse into bed. When you finally get back to your room, you move to turn off the lights—only to realize you forgot to close your laptop. The screen’s vividness immediately sears into your eyelids. Blinking tears from your eyes, you close it and head back to your bed to go to sleep. 

Fortunately, you’re tired enough to find sleep rather easily. But even when your eyes slip shut, remnants of that bright light from moments ago burn through your vision. 

When you wake the next morning, sunlight stretches through the gaps in your curtains—illuminating your room in a dim glow. You blink several times to make your eyes feel less dry, before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself up to a sitting position. The bedspread is weirdly scratchy. You look down at it, entirely perplexed when you find a multi-color patchwork quilt instead of your normal comforter. You run a hand along it, trying to rationalize how you could’ve gone to sleep and woken up in a bed with different dressings. 

But your bedspread isn’t the only thing that’s changed—as you glance about the room, you realize that everything looks slightly different. The posters and photos adorning the walls are unusually colorful, and any harsh corners on your furniture have been smoothed over into neat curves. And as your hands investigate the quilt on your bed, you realize that you look strange too. The mirror on the wall casts a familiar reflection, but with softened edges and vivid coloring. Your clothes are far too bright than you remember them being—the same goes for your eyes. 

After a lot of exploring, you come to the unfortunate conclusion that your surroundings are drenched in technicolor. Even more surprising and inexplicable is the unshakeable fact that you’re not dreaming. Several hard pinches to the skin on your forearm cement that unfortunate reality. 

You step outside of your living space, only to find that the surrounding town is just as blindingly bright-colored. Vivid trees in neon colors surround the various buildings. With a churning stomach, you walk through the waving grass and desperately look for a clue to explain your unfamiliar surroundings. Some time later, you’ve explored the entire area—only to yield no new information. 

It’s only when you approach the outskirts of the humble town that you hear a voice. “Where are you going?”

You freeze. For a moment, you contemplate ignoring this new presence; then you realize this may be the only way for you to understand what’s going on. You turn around to find yourself staring at a man with yellow fleece skin and blue hair styled elegantly above his head. He wears a bright blue shirt and multi-colored pants. Looking at him makes your head spin. 

“I’m trying to go home,” You respond, watching as the sidewalk stretches into the distance. You shove your hands in your pockets to quell some of your restless energy. It doesn’t work as well as you’d like. 

“This is Home,” the newcomer frowns. He looks confused but sympathetic.

“My home, I mean,” you clarify. Surely, if this guy is a local, he should know you’re a stranger. You don’t belong here. 

“This is your home,” he insists. For a moment, his voice almost sounds forceful. “Our home!” He then chirps, as if attempting to distract you from his brief slip in composure.

You stare at him for a moment, unable to shake the strange feeling of foreboding running down your spine. “Who are you?” You finally relent and ask. 

“I’m Wally Darling,” he responds. “Who are you?” Wally peers at you curiously. 

You return his gaze, struggling to find an answer to the question. Who… are you? What’s your name? And, most importantly, why are you here?

You try to deflect. “Where is everyone?” You ask, looking around at the quiet town. It feels weirdly empty. There’s almost something… sinister about it: this cute little town, entirely vacant. How can something so colorful be so lifeless?

“They’re sleeping, I think.” Wally responds smoothly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You swear you see his smile falter for a second, but the expression vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. 

Adrenaline courses you at the thought of being trapped in this unfamiliar place with no one but this stranger for company. You try to take another step towards the forest, but it feels as if some invisible force is fighting against you. You’re then shoved backwards, colliding with Wally in the process. 

“Easy there,” he smiles, steadying you with hands on your shoulders. The gesture doesn’t reach his eyes. 

You nod and quickly excuse yourself from the conversation, citing your growing headache as justification. In your defense, you do have a rather painful headache growing to inhabit your temple and stretch through your cheekbones. Wally seems to sense that you’re telling the truth, because he just smiles and bids you good day, after one final remark welcoming you to the neighborhood. You continue to explore the town throughout the remainder of the day, despite the uncanny feeling of eyes on your back. 

As time passes, you start to notice that there’s a friendly sort of malice in the way Wally carries himself. He’s a bundle of contradictions: misery behind a paper-thin smile; glee behind a disparaging frown. He’s always lingering in the corner of your vision: when you’re getting up in the morning; when you’re taking a walk. He tells you virtually nothing about himself, yet he seems eager to learn anything and everything about you. You can’t help but be wary around him. 

But somehow, he wants to be friends with you. Wally’s idea of friendship seems to bleed into something far past platonic, though. He regularly makes remarks about how his life has changed for the better since your arrival; his eyes gleam with something close to envy when you talk about your friends outside this colorful town. You don’t want to overanalyze things, but then you notice the rapt attention he pays you when you speak. Then you notice the freshly trimmed flowers in the vase on your front porch—the one you’ve walked past every day without a second thought. 

Although Wally’s behavior is a bit puzzling, he dominates your thoughts for a different reason. Safe to say, he unnerves you sometimes. And you can’t shake the conviction that he’s hiding things from you. Sometimes he’ll look at the other houses with nostalgia in his eyes; he’ll reference people you’ve never heard of and then clam up when you ask about them. 

He greets you every morning, without fail. The first few times, you smile and wave back. But as time passes and you still can’t find a way out of this place, you start to ignore him. However, this behavior only seems to encourage Wally—as he begins to tag along on your morning walks. 

And it only takes you so long to break. After all, he’s the only other form of human (?) contact in this place. You need to talk to someone about something—anything—and Wally is your only choice. It’s only natural that you stop resisting. Not to mention, Wally is a superb listener. He’s almost too good at it. You get the feeling that he would let you talk for hours, content remaining silent and digesting all the information you give him. You’ve made sure not to reveal too many private details about your life—your real life, outside of this town—but Wally seems to know you anyway. He knows things about you that you’ve never told anyone; sometimes, he even references conversations you think you’ve had with friends over direct messages. 

Ultimately, it doesn’t take you long to come to the conclusion that Wally is the key to leaving this place. You’re not deluded enough to think he’ll let you leave, but you can’t deny that he knows more than he’s letting on. He is far from innocent in this whole affair. He must be pulling the strings from somewhere, somehow. You can only dismiss these thoughts as paranoid for so long, before the dots begin to connect and you’re faced with incontrovertible evidence of his malevolence.  

And while you relented and allowed Wally to join you on your morning walks, you never stepped foot inside his residence or took him up on his offers to spend more time together. 

At least, not until now, when you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Wally’s home with your heart racing in your chest. Despite the dread prickling along your skin, you extend a hand and ring the doorbell. You don’t understand what’s happening here, but you know one thing for certain: Wally is at the center of it. 

The door creaks open ominously. Wally stands in the doorway, an easy smile plastered across his face. You both know it isn’t genuine, and within moments, it starts to melt and slip off his face. A crooked grin shudders over his lips. “Hey, neighbor!” He says brightly. A thick tension descends across the space. A stiff breeze ruffles your clothes and sends chills down your arms. Wally’s dark eyes almost seem to engulf you; there’s a faint ringing sound echoing in your ears. “I’ve been expecting you.”

thanks for reading! <3

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[etherfall]

What does N call Alder? I think a cute fanfic idea would be the first time he calls Alder his dad, whether it's to his face or like, "my dad told me..."

I've got a little story just for this moment, hope you enjoy!

“Alder!”

Alder, who was sitting at the front entrance to their home, turned his head at the sound to see N excitedly bounding across the grass with his poncho trailing behind him. 

It had been a few months since he first found N in the woods. To Alder’s delight he was adjusting very well, and was now incredibly comfortable being in his home. For the first few weeks N didn’t speak. Alder was initially worried that his critical period for language learning had passed, but N was very smart and quickly picked up English.

N’s old shirt and pants had been replaced with a cream-colored poncho embroidered with gold lace that Alder had spent all night painstakingly sewing. Although he had lost many nights of sleep, it was worth it to see N’s smile of happiness as he slipped the new poncho across his shoulders. It felt good to be taking care of somebody again.

N stumbled to a stop, panting as he caught his breath. Alder let out a chuckle, amused.

“Slow down there N, what happened?”

N tugged on his hand excitedly. “Alder you have to see this!”

Alder stood up from the front steps of the house and let N lead him into the forest. “Where are we going? You still haven’t told me what’s happening.”

“Shhhh!” N said, hushing him. Alder smiled and closed his lips, letting the boy lead him deeper into the woods.

When they had gotten a good distance from the house N suddenly crouched down, pulling Alder into the bushes with him. He pointed into the brambles, wide-eyed and awed. 

“Look!”

Alder squinted, trying to see what N was pointing at. His eyesight had definitely waned over the years, but he eventually made out the figure of a Sawsbuck who was followed by a group of Deerling. 

It was truly a sight to behold. The great Sawsbuck held itself majestically, blinking slowly as it turned its head. The dapple of soft forest light scattered across its brown fur in a beautiful display of pattern. It would have blended in perfectly with the surrounding trees if not for the crowd of bright pink spring Deerling that were bouncing back and forth at its feet. Alder let out a breath of deep admiration. It was always a breathtaking scene to see such a beautiful creature in the wild.

The Sawsbuck dipped its head to calm the excited group of Deerling, nuzzling one softly with its nose. The Deerling wiggled its tail, letting out a happy bleat of excitement. The Sawsbuck lifted itself up regally and began to trot away into the woods, with the Deerling following behind. Soon they disappeared into the thick tangle of the forest.

Alder was beaming. The Sawsbuck was a great surprise to see. When they were both sure the pokemon were gone, Alder stood up and brushed the dirt off of his pants.

“That was a really beautiful thing you found, N. Did you see all those Deerling? That Sawsbuck is one busy dad.” He said with a chuckle.

N stood up as well, his expression of awe shifting to one of confusion.

“Wait, what’s a dad?” He asked, puzzled.

Alder silently face-palmed himself. He had completely forgotten that N had a very different upbringing than other people. He racked his brain for a quick explanation.

“Err…well I suppose you could say that a dad is a parent who raises you and cares for you.”

Alder gestured towards the forest where the Sawsbuck had disappeared. 

“That Sawsbuck we just saw is the dad to all those young Deerling. He cares for them and makes sure that they are all safe.”

Alder could see the gears in N’s head turning. He tried to clarify it a little more.

“Pretty much everyone has a dad, and their job is to look out for you as you grow up. Whether that be, let's say, making you food or teaching you how the world works. A dad doesn’t have to be related to you by blood, but he should be there to support you.”

N brightened in understanding, then turned his head to look at Alder. 

“Wait, that means that I should call you dad!”

Alder paused, stunned by the sudden response. “I…what?”

“Well you made me dinner every day, you gave me a home when it was raining, and you made me new clothes!” He said, excitedly lifting up an arm to show off the poncho. “You taught me about things I didn’t know and took care of me.”

N nodded to himself, beaming, oblivious to the fact that he was making Alder melt with happiness. He turned his head back towards the forest, looking out at where the pokemon had disappeared. A small smile hung on his lips.

“If you say that everyone has a dad, then you must be mine.” He murmured, tilting his head to look at Alder. “Right?”

Alder felt his heart twist. A complicated feeling of delight and sadness tore cruelly at his heartstrings.

“Oh N… A dad can be anyone, as long as you believe they care for you enough.”

N wrapped his arms around Alder’s waist, repeating the word a few more times, before burying his head into the folds of Alder’s poncho with a soft smile on his face.

“I like that. I think that I will call you dad.”

Alder felt as if he might start bawling. He tucked one hand around N’s shoulders, pulling him close. He pressed his other hand against his heart, turning his head to look down at N, trying to capture the moment forever in his mind.

“You can call me whatever you want N, but I feel very honored that you would choose to call me your dad.”

They stood together in the embrace, basking in the warm evening light. Alder turned his head away, feeling his heart flip with so many complicated emotions that had been dormant for years. He didn’t know if N knew the weight of the words that he had just said, but all he hoped for in the moment was that N was feeling comforted and loved. After a while Alder gently let go of N, giving him a bright smile.

“It’s starting to get late. Let’s head home now, son.”

N looked confused again. “Son? What’s a son?”

Alder laughed, ruffling N’s hair before gently taking his hand and leading him out of the bushes towards their house. The fading tendrils of the afternoon sun danced across their ponchos as they made their way through the woods together.

“That’s a name that I would call you N, the person whom the dad loves and cares for the most.”

[qdrex]

TCDO ep 1

I will no longer put warnings under the episodes, this book is 18+, so get ready for anything coming.

As soon as the colorful gang of kids were out of sight, I quickly flied up high in the sky. I need to know if the Dark Lord is alive.

What if he's dead? What if... He...

I have to check it out - I thought, following the traces of the laser that had drilled a deep strip in the ground. I finally reached the place, what might have been called a slight hill, now a big hole. I could already see his body from above. Not movable, at least that's what I thought.

I landed on the ground. The heat of the green laser could still be felt from it. The grass around was burnt, and Dark... Oh well. I jumped down next to him with a light thud.

-Dark, get up. Stop pretending.

I ordered him, but he still laid there with his eyes closed. I crouched down next to him. His... Uh... Virabands, as I think he called them, were slightly shining, but were badly damaged.

-Dark, get up, I said. Don't act stupid, move your ass.

But he still didn't move.

I quickly moved my fingers to his neck to check his pulse and breathed a sigh of relief.

He's alive.

I slid my hands under his body and lifted him into my arms, bending slightly from the weight of his body. Normally, I would have lifted him easily, but since I was tired from all the fighting, sore and in pain, it was a bit harder for me.

At home, I placed him on a blanket instead of the ccouc, so it won't get messy from the blood.

I finally heard Dark mutter something under his breath.

-Cho... Cho... sen...

The way his voice cracked almost brought me to tears. Almost, and that's a big difference. He muttered something for a while, then fell silent again.

-Hm.

His T-shirt was torn in many places and burnt. I pulled it off him and threw it to the side, as if I was going to undress him and then rape him or something.

Wait.

What.

Okay, that was a weird thought.

Anyway, I went to the bathroom to look for the first aid kit. If only we had something. Oh... there it is. I sat down next to my friend - if I can still call him that - and soaked the clean cloth with rubbing alcohol.

-This will sting a bit.

I said, hoping he would hear me. But no, he was lying unconscious, still so calm... It was simply not in line with his nature.

I placed the gauze over his largest wound and looked at his face. No reaction. No emotions.

Okay, half the job done.

I put some bruise cream on two fingers and began to gently rub it into the dark spots on his body. I think it's time to check his back-

Oh shit.

There was a HUGE, dark bruise on his back. It looked like some internal bleeding. My eyes opened wide at the sight. Okay... Time to take some care of it.

[matthindavick]

Hey ghesties, uhhh I was nervous as fuck to post this because I haven’t had the energy to do much in the way of full drawings (all of it was funneled in a specific project I am seriously struggling on) so I only have picrew edits (which also limited my design ability in terms of silhouette) but I need to talk about my Little Guys (ghoul ocs)

-a note on my canon I set up for them, it’s generally a “no one dies” au, though occasionally I play with resurrection aus? Either way all the papas get to live and be a fucked up little family together. Also I know they "Didn't grow up together" in terms of Copia but instead yes they did.-

(Second note because I'm not sure how everyone else categorizes these, I use era to mean a different Papa as frontman (but mashing Copia's cardinal and Papa times together since he's still the same character)

First up: Cinder!

Made with this picrew, edits include burn and singe marks on their clothes: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/251735

Fire ghoul, they/them, era 3/4 depending on au

Their basic premise is “give Terzomega a child through Hijinks” which currently includes a group of overenthusiastic Siblings attempting to help by summoning a ghoul. Luckily it doesn’t go dangerously wrong, but they do end up with a ghoul kit.

A kit they immediately lose, because Cinder bolted out of the area.

Cinder is notably shy and skittish for a fire ghoul (hence why I went with “cinder” as it’s a cooled fire related term, and “ash” is a bit too much just a human name for my preference?) And they get cold very easily, so once they got out of the commotion they found the nearest lit fireplace to hide in.

I've gone back and forth on who finds them, but tend to favor it being Omega or him and Terzo, because they would be scared by just a human and while it could be one of the other ghouls, I just don't really feel it? (And I am.. not great at characterizing uhh most of the ghouls. Including Omega tbh.)

They're dressed in a cute little frilly outfit because I think Terzo likes to dress them up like a little prince. It's very hard to get them to keep their clothes unburnt so there is a lot of effort taken to give them fire resistant clothes (they still manage to singe the edges)

Resurrection au is way harder on them, and includes them being summoned (and subsequently adopted) era 3, to get the full angst from Terzo's death.

No one dies version is them being summoned era 4, because I think Terzo (and to a degree Omega) would do much better with a child after retirement from touring.

Their favorite uncle is Copia, due in large part due to adoring his rats (cuddling many small warm cute babies? Sign them up!) But also because knowing that he's an anxious person makes them feel better about how big and scary the ministry is to them, no matter how long it's been.

Next: Ember!

Made with this picrew, edits include a change to the skin tone, lighter oranges and yellow in the eyes, and the embers: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1564386

Fire ghoul, he/they/she/xe, era 4

Ember is in general, sweet. Gentle, helpful, and calm. Warm, emotionally and also physically, radiating heat like a smsll furnace. All perfect qualities for a ministry ghoul. But they are very clear about their limits, that their temper can flare high with the best of them.

He is happy to do plenty of jobs around the ministry, but his favorite tends to sound a little surprising: tending the grounds and gardens. The soft heat of the sun, the cool grass, and the ever changing shapes and colors of flowers, it's all peaceful to xem.

In resurrection aus, she finds the gardens not in disrepair per se, but definitely not like it has been given care. She has to be careful, lest her heat burn the more delicate plants, but he personally revives it to the best to his ability. It's quite the surprise to both of them when Primo returns, to a small fire ghoul neck deep in his garden as it stands around them, healthy, if not amateur. They get to bond over this =)

In no one dies au, there's a slower burn bond with Primo, with him teaching them about the plants, two calm exteriors with burning, molten cores finding companionship.

(...also if maybe I like to ship xem and Primo that's my business. I'm very scared of being called cringe, can you tell?)

Finally: Prism!

My poor baby with 4 variants on their design and less defined things.

Made with this picrew, edits include adding the glowy aether symbol, and adding iridescence/opalescence to the eyes: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1493001

Quintessence/fire ghoul, she/they, probably era 4?? Who knows

Unfortunately, Prism is currently mostly vibes? I think she's probably a bit tricksy maybe? (Maybe a bit... scatterbrained? Like. Like refracting light. Because it's scattering light. Like a prism. Well more like the way the bevels in a cut diamond make it sparkle and refract light, which is actually how I imagine them but prism is more succinct for use as a name) So I'm going to talk about a couple design details. (I'm curious what design other people like best? I may do a poll about it if people are interested)

I realized this may just be a me thing, but I imagine the ones with the hair up as the hair spikes going up through the horns, so the horns curl around the hair, though the picrew doesn't actually depict that as much as I thought at first?

Also the black shirt + red cloak feels more like "on stage" type outfits, the way the ghouls wear darker colors, while the white and purple shirt is more casual with the light colors. (Interestingly, they each kinda emphasize each of her elements with red being fire and purple aether)

I got too many "looks like homestuck" comments from friends before I even made the wavy hair + red and black outfit and while I love that one I'm so scared it reads as "Aradia"

So I think that's generally my guys? Hope y'all like them?

[angelofthenight]

Haiii ^_^ I was just wondering if you can do like micah (from children of the corn 2) x plus sized reader who’s insecure ?? 🖤🖤

Micah x Plus Size!Reader

(Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Body insecurity, Hurt/Comfort, Reader is the pastor’s daughter, Alluded religious trauma, Mentions of Micah’s abusive dad, Teenage boy hormones (very faint), Kissing

Word Count: 3.0k

( Got a little carried away with the word count but I thought it was appropriate for how long this has been sitting in my inbox😭😭 Also this will be one of the exceptions from only writing Micah as a yandere )

Micah was naturally independent. 

He wasn’t shy or outcasted, he was just reserved and preferred to be at a distance where he could observe those around him. Those who danced mindlessly on the cleared floor in their best formal wear. Those who huddled around the punch bowl muttering about some misunderstandings. Those who clutched their pearls at how a few of the girls’ heels were too high. Those who chose to argue with their partner in the corner of the big room at a celebration like this.

But despite how independent Micah was, and despite how non-complex he viewed everyone in town as, his eyes could never stop from looking for one particular person in each crowded room he’s ever been in. Yet you were nowhere to be found.

In his most honest mind, he looked forward to this town party hosted by the town’s pastor, otherwise known to be your father, to celebrate the renovation of the church. It quite honestly didn’t need to be renovated in the first place, it was a tad small but it was perfectly fine. It was a waste of money in his opinion yet he kept that to himself after letting it slip to his father. His father brutishly shunned him for thinking such a way of the town’s beloved church, followed by a snapping backhand.

The reason he looked forward to this gathering full of balloons and caters was to see you all dressed up. He was still a hormonal guy so the thought of you in a dress made him tug at his collar. 

Micah pined after you hard. Simply just thinking about you made his face redden and collapse in his hands, and he left every interaction with you struggling to resist a dopey grin. He just liked and admired everything about you and found you to be the most interesting person out of all 968 people in this town.

You were a bit of a town outcast. Not physically an outcast where people avoided you or excluded you, no, you were actually very well-liked by the townspeople. You were almost like the People’s Princess of Gatlin. As the pastor’s daughter, you attended lots of town events and were always incredibly polite and humble. Like a princess. 

Though, you were just so… different from the rest of the town. Your world-views, your opinions, your personality, your attitude, your humor, your wit, the way you spent your free time, the way you danced, how you walked, how you talked, and so many other traits. Micah personally surmised you didn’t even believe in God.

You didn’t belong here, not in this town, Micah knew for certain. You were meant for bigger, more exciting things and settings and environments. This small town was one big restraint on you. 

And maybe there were much better words to properly describe you, but to Micah he saw you as cool. Like a cowboy.

So other than his great infatuation with you, he genuinely liked being around you. He wanted to say the two of you were friends but he sometimes guessed he was just a small speck in your colorful world filled with thoughts and views he could never dream of. 

He craved your presence, he found attending this party not even worth it if you weren’t around. But maybe this was what he got for wanting to see you in a short dress so bad. That was until when he lingered around the windows for a change of scenery, he caught the misty sight of your silhouette sitting in the grass facing the cornfield.

It was as if the boredom zapped out of his eyes when he was certain it was you. Quickly running his brown eyes around the room, he spotted his father lost in quiet words exchanged with the farmhand’s wife. She was holding a tray of banana bread muffins with a gushy and blushy expression on her face as his father ate a pinch off one of the sweet breads with a sultry smile, clearly trying to make it look like he was talking about her baking with her when it was clear to Micah that was most definitely not what they were talking about.

With his father too deeply distracted by the female skin of infidelity to prevent his son from sinfully conversing with a girl, Micah took that as his blessing to exit the church in pursuit of you. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to make conversation out of. Maybe he could talk you into joining this little group the new kid in town, Isaac, was gradually forming. He wondered if the central philosophy of the group would appeal to you. He wouldn’t be surprised if the pastor’s daughter held a resentment towards the adult. 

As he dug his hands into the pockets of his pants, not even the breezy night air could cool the warm temperature creeping up his neck the closer he approached you. 

“Hey, (Y/n).” He accidentally croaked out. Your body subtly flinched in the thick cardigan you wrapped yourself into. After rubbing your eyes hurriedly, you turned your head to look up at the dark haired boy. “Oh, hi, Micah. Didn’t hear you creeping up on me.” You said with a soft and friendly tone of voice. 

Micah could’ve fallen to his knees right then and there from the sight of your shiny gaze casted up at him like that, the color of your orbs brighter than a full moon. And he swore he could name every constellation through your eyes. “My apologies. Mind if I sit?” He said, gesturing towards the area of the ground beside you. 

Your plump lips parted with the intent of asking to be alone but as you thought before you spoke, you changed your mind. “Go right ahead.”

A smile spread softly as he squatted down to sit with his legs crossed, his eyes taking in your styled hair and the sweater that shielded whatever you were wearing underneath it. “You look nice. Why aren’t you inside? I’m sure lots of people are waiting for you.” He said with a teasing smile yet also trying to be gentle with you as if you were world class.

You hugged your knees closer to your chest as you practically huddled deeper into your cardigan like a hermit crab, the thought of going inside made that lump in your throat thicker and your thoughts self-destruct all over again. “I know…” you kept pressing your lips together to prevent them from quivering in front of someone, “but I think I’m gonna run back to my house and change then join the party.”

Micah got confused now. You were clearly all pampered up for the party, even wearing the vintage pearl earrings he remembered your grandma used to wear. “But you’re already dressed. What’s the problem?” He took notice of how you sunk into your sweater, wondering if you were just cold. “It’s warmer inside than it is out here so you-”

“I just think this dress was a mistake.”

His dark eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean? I’m sure whatever you picked looks great.”

The sound of a mix of a huff and a whimper emitted past your lips as you pulled down your cardigan to reveal your dress. The floral print dress was shorter than your other ones, the skirt only covering less than half of your thick thighs (especially when you sat with your legs up), and the short sleeves were loose over your shoulders. It wasn’t tight but it hugged your curves and your busty cleavage peeked over the low cut collar.

The borderline skimpy outfit was different than how you usually dressed. Much more revealing and bold. And Micah felt as if he was witnessing a once in a lifetime sight, the universe teasing him with what was unattainable yet blessed him the sight out of pity. He didn’t realize his face was turning rosy until he felt the heat in his cheeks. He pursed his lips together and glanced off into the corn.

As goosebumps littered your exposed skin in the nighttime air your blurry eyes remained set on the grass in front of you, your focus not on anything specific. “My dad and I got into a little argument about my dress for tonight. Said it was too short even though it went past my fingertips. I wanted to really stick it to him, like give him the finger, so I altered it to this. But now that I’m actually here, wearing this… I don’t think I can go in.”

In Micah’s mind, he thought you were trying to express your insecurity of the indecent dress because you knew slut-shaming and proclamations of sin were guaranteed to be thrown at you the second you stepped through those doors. You were the Pastor’s daughter after all, and being his only child golden expectations were set for you. 

And though you actually did exceed those expectations by being noble and headstrong, you were a relatively tough individual. You never once stood for someone displaying disrespect and you were never afraid to put someone in their place with a fiery, wide gaze, intimidating people into that place. Other than who your kin was, nobody dared to argue with you. More reasons as to why Micah admired you.

So imagine his surprise when he heard a wet sniffle and noticed the twinkling reflection of thickening tears over your eyes. “Actually I think I’m just gonna go home and stay there. Sit this one out.” Your turning body to stand up made Micah for sure of the emotion in your face.

He said with a careful and nonthreatening tone, “Hey, hey, hey.” His arms softly reached out to grab your biceps, keeping you seated so that he could lean his face closer to yours so that he could meet your tearful eyes; his eyebrows curving upwards and his frown parted. “Why are you crying?” He asked gently with worry but the verbal notice of your mood only made your tears fall. 

You sniffled again as your frown trembled, the sight causing a squeezing pain to erupt in Micah’s chest. “You’re not the only girl in town who would get criticized for being revealing. You shouldn’t think of it as a personal or discriminative or victimizing thing, it’s just the kind of conservative community this town is. You know they didn’t even like when Lacey in our class wore Daisy Dukes in the middle of July.” He tried to comfort using a soothing tone and a realistic view on what he thought you were insecure about.

Though he soon believed he said the wrong thing when your avoidant gaze finally snapped onto his with your eyebrows furrowed, an annoyed essence swapping out your dejected image. “What? I don’t give a crap about them thinking I’m dressed like a whore. I’d wear a Scarlet Letter on my forehead and still not care about whatever they have to say.” You said sternly and clearly. 

Micah, with his hands still gently holding onto your biceps, glanced back and forth between both of your eyes and the cornfield. He was lost and puzzled. “Then… What are you so worried about?”

You didn’t blink as you stared into his brown hues before your gaze hardened and you slightly leaned back away from him. “..…Are you mocking me?”

The boy’s eyes widened as he frantically shook his head softly. “No, no, no. I really don’t see the problem if it’s not being slut-shamed.” He said with genuine bewilderment. 

Your emotions were in spirals and urges to scream in his face and cry at the same time flooded through you like oil leaks near a fire. You felt your spitfire blood pressure grow hot but yet… you didn’t explode. Perhaps it was because of the vulnerable weakness you harbored for Micah that rendered you unable to aim any sort of your conflagration toward him. Your weakness for the shy boy that always sent you a smile when you made eye contact was stronger than your fuse. Especially when he held you so gently and looked deep into your eyes like you were the only thing left on earth.

“Micah, have you seen me?” You said hoarsely, deciding to be point-blank with your approach. “I’m the weight of a cow. And this dress does nothing but make it more obvious.” The way you said your words sounded as if you were insulting someone with the intent to hurt them, but you spoke in the first person.

Micah had to take a second to register and digest what you were saying. But when it did it felt as if his heart broke into small pieces and fell down to the pit of his stomach. If anyone said that about you, Micah would gladly exchange black eyes with them to defend your honor. But the fact this was coming from you… He always thought so highly of you, thought you were in a whole different world than him. 

He was dumbstruck, dumbfounded. He looked back and forth between your eyes for the relieving hint that you were joking, or lying. But no, you were neither of those things. You were delusional. “What are you talking about? (Y/n)... you look incredible.” He breathed out yet his honest words just seemed to sting you even more, your frown deepening and the tears swelling back up.

You slightly wiggled in an attempt to get out of his hold yet his firmed his grip on your arms to keep you close to him. “I just… I just can’t believe that you would say that about yourself. Because in my eyes, you’re like this masterpiece crafted by the divine hands of the universe.” 

Your mind told you not to believe he was telling the truth, that he was just flattering the Pastor’s daughter and not you. But yet despite the dripping tears that fell into the grass, you felt yourself hang on every word that he spoke with such unfiltered sincerity that came out easily. 

“Your curves are not mere flesh and bone, but a testament to the wonder of creation itself, each curve a stroke of genius, each imperfection a mark of authenticity. Like, your body is an exact replica of the muse’s in the renaissance for paintings and sculptures. The timeless ones that people put up in museums to be admired and awed.”

Micah tilted his head to the side to place his face in your avoidant eyeline. He wanted you to look him in the eye as he told you this. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, to see how breathtaking and charming you are. Don’t let some insecurity blind you, because you are a masterpiece, a work of art, a marvel to behold. Your body is a temple, a vessel through which your radiant spirit shines forth, illuminating the lives of all who are fortunate enough to bask in-”

You harmlessly giggled with the sweetest smile and a punch shade of pink dusting across your round cheeks. “Okay, now you’re getting weird, you sound like a preacher.” You used the back of your hand to wipe your nose but also to hide your flustered grin. Micah smiled at the sight and the uplift of your mood, finally sliding his hold off of you.

A cleansing silence drifted over the two of you in your own little bubble. A comfortable one. Your heartbeat thumped sweetly in your chest, making the rest of your insides feel like warm mush that melted because of Micah’s honesty. “You know, I…” You paused to allow your blush and the reality of the situation sink in. “I never knew you felt that way.” You said as you looked up at him softly.

He didn’t know how to respond since he still believed you were so out of his league that you didn’t hold any affection for him. “Well now you do.” He said with a shrug. Your smile grew as your pupils dilated. “And I’m glad I know now.”

He approached what you said with caution and nervous curiosity. “Why?” You abused the seconds of suspense to truly admire the boy in a whole new light. “Because now I realize that I feel the same way.”

Micah was torn. Torn between his father’s words about the shameful sin of just simply talking to girls and the gravitational pull of his emotions and heart and attraction. Everything he was ever taught and learned was coming to question and doubt as he looked into your doe eyes, it was like an epiphany. Perhaps this was his final push into Isaac’s cause and his proclamation that the adults are wrong about everything.

Because could one small stolen kiss with a renaissance muse really condemn him to Hell?

“I really want to kiss you.” He finally breathed out like a warm sigh. “Do you think it’d be a sin if I kissed you?” He asked, genuinely wanting your insightful input. 

You took a moment to ponder until you settled on your answer. “I do.” 

Micah glanced down in disappointment. “So I’m damned if I do…” he looked back up to you with an entranced sense in his eyes, “but damned if I don’t.” He then leaned in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his hand moving to rest just below your soft jawline. He hummed into the contact which created a feeling of electricity shooting through you, prompting you to thread your fingers through the dark hair on the back of his head.

If this was the thing that would supposedly convict him to Hell, then Micah believed it was worth it a thousand times.

[m-jelly]

Hello friend! Hope you are well! This is an official request! Either story or HC format.

So when Levi came from the underground the colors must have really been something. My request is modern where Levi is color blind (how severe is up to you) and reader gets him those color corrective glasses so he can see color. And he's just in awe over things people take for granted like the color of the sky, the grass, etc, and maybe the color of readers dress or something.

Thank you 😊 and as always I love you and your writing 😘 .

@ladycheesington <3

All the colours

Levi x fem!Reader

Modern AU, fluff, romance, being a couple, colour blindness

Levi has always managed his colour blindness and tried his best to get you pretty things, including flowers. You gift him with glasses one day on a date through a botanical garden. Levi is so touched and is in awe of how vibrant the flowers are.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

Levi entwined his fingers with yours as he felt so unbelievably happy. Going on a romantic date with you, or just spending time with you was his favourite thing in the world. He wanted to cover you in kisses, but he always held back in public.

You looked up at him and smiled. "Levi?"

He flinched a little and smiled back at you. "Yes, love?"

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I am." He frowned a little. "So, a botanical garden, huh?"

You nodded and went to pay, but Levi took over. "Trust me."

He hummed. "I do." He paid before walking with you into the beginning part. "I love you."

You stopped right before going into the first part. "I have a gift."

He frowned at your words. "A gift?"

You pulled a box out of your bag and handed it over. "I'm sure I got the right ones for you."

"Right ones?" He opened the box to see a pair of glasses inside. "Wait...are these?"

You nodded. "I got you corrective glasses. I know you've never been too bothered by being colourblind, but I thought as a fun day out you could enjoy some lovely flowers with me."

Levi hurridly put the glasses on. "I wanna see! Let's go!"

You giggled as he grabbed your hand and yanked you outside and into the first massive biome. "Slow down."

Levi slowed and came to a stop when you entered the rainforest. "Fuck me."

You snorted a laugh as parents stared at him. "Sorry, he has colour-correcting glasses on. He's enjoying them." You rubbed Levi's back. "What do you think?"

Levi reached under the glasses and rubbed his tears away. "This is incredible. There are so many colours." He looked down at you and gasped. "Your eyes! Oh and your hair."

You giggled as he touched your face and cupped your face. "I didn't realise colours on me would be different."

He hugged you against him and looked around. "Everything is so pretty...can we keep going?"

You held his hand. "Sure, come on."

Levi walked slowly as he held your hand tightly. "Flowers are incredible. They're so vibrant."

You pulled him outside the biome. "Wait until you see the outdoor garden."

"Is it more pretty?"

You nodded. "Yes. Lavender is incredible." You came to a stop at the start of a massive garden full of lavender. "What do you think?"

Levi gasped. "It's incredible. It smells good and looks...this is perfect." He looked over at you. "You...thank you." He cupped your face and kissed you. "Show me your favourite flower. I want to see what it looks like with these on."

You kissed him again. "Of course, I'll take you to them."

"Thank you."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting gender envy from different races?

Disclaimer that I know POC are not a monolith and everyone has their own opinion, but I'm genuinely confused and curious, and I am asking in good faith.

I (27NB) was on Twitter a while back, when new photos came out for one of the K-pop groups I follow. A lot of people were making comments about it too, but they were very Gender in a lot of ways, from the styling to the pose to the energy, if that makes sense. It was hardly the first time I'd seen people say a celebrity gives them gender envy, and I'm sure it won't be the last. It's also not solely Korean/Asian people that give me gender envy, but I do admit that it's most typical there—I believe it's because that's the content that I typically consume, but other notable examples are like...David Tennant in Good Omens, and Gwendolyn Christie as Satan, so it's very much not just people of color.

But then I saw someone talking about how white people shouldn't say they have gender envy for Asians, or any POC for that matter, because it's "not actually gender envy, it's just fetishization." It surprised me, because those seem like two different things to me, and it kind of upset me at the time, but the more I've thought about it, the more I understand that as a white person, I have little experience with either subject to draw from.

Now I know this is likely a nuanced discussion, but I'm wondering if it's genuinely an asshole thing to feel gender envy for someone of a different race. If it is, and I'm contributing to harmful behavior, I want to obviously stop doing that, but I simply don't have the experiences to really 'decide' on that, so to speak. So I wanted to get a hopefully larger and more varied pool of people together and see what they think as well.

(PS - pls don't tell me to touch grass or that I'm chronically online. I'm aware of that already. I genuinely am just curious about this and I haven't found many people of color talking about it, so my anxiety refuses to let it rest)

What are these acronyms?

[seiya234]

i can't believe this is a series now any way thanks @dril-cipher for making me write about the meow meow and @marypsue for creating the meow meow

----

Ian looked around.

The colors of the landscape that surrounded him were unbelievably vivid, unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was a single, perfectly asymmetrical hill of rolling green grass, underneath a perfectly blue sky, with just enough clouds to produce interesting shadows on the ground below.

He turned around in every direction and yet he was always staring at the same hill, the same sky, the same unmoving clouds.

It was very disconcerting and Ian was enjoying it immensely.

Next to him, Henry was intently studying the world around him.

"You realize there's still inherent meaning in this, right?"

"Oh fuck off," Ian muttered, but his heart wasn't in it.

This Henry was... older than he had ever seen before, hair shot with grey, and antlers filled with fruit both edible and... not. He was still in all black, still barefoot, but now he had on a faded blue flannel shirt on top of it all.

And he burned. Not literally, no, but Ian could feel the heat radiating off of Henry from several feet away.

"You're... different this time," Ian said, awkwardly.

(what did Henry see of him? here in the Mindscape? Ian wanted to know. Ian did not want to know.)

"I think this me is... about sixty or so? Ish. I have... had grandkids at this point."

"And this you has rediscovered the joy of colors and patterns?"

"I can't really say anything about that- I'm wearing sweatpants and one of Hank's college shirts myself. However, I have relaxed a bit, if I don't say so myself."

Ian looked at Henry's antlers again. Some of the hands were dripping with fresh blood.

Relaxed. Sure.

Without warning, the landscape around them changed. Now they were in what looked like a maze of brick walls... though the brick was unlike any he had ever seen before- oversized and blood red and granular in a way that textures were not like in real life. The ceiling was those weird, industrial white soundproof tiles and the ground was brown... static.

Oh, and there was a floating, semitransparent rectangle that read 'start' but Ian's brain was still stuck on the floor, so he and Henry walked through it without a thought.

"Which way?" Henry asked.

"Hand on the wall, start going right," Ian automatically said. This was kind of his wheelhouse.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, and while it wasn't exactly companionable, neither was it awkward.

"What troubles your mind this time?" Henry finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Why does something have to be wrong?" Ian retorted, but he was being contrary and he knew it.

"Because you drew me here to talk."

Ian scowled. His sub-subconscious was such a traitor.

They turned right, then right again. Ian opened his mouth, then closed it again, for once unsure how to start, what to say.

Sheesh. If he wasn't the smart guy, then who was he, really?

"It took me awhile, to learn how to let go," Henry finally offered, breaking the ice.

"Of what? Your murderous impulses?" Ian snarled, and not just because he was wiping off some blood that had dripped from the antlers onto his hand.

"I used to fear the beast inside of me," Henry went on, adroitly ignoring the snark. "It was useful, but there was so much I didn't know about him. He was... unplanned, the first unplanned thing in my life since I had met my wife." Henry paused. "Though it should go without saying that my wife was a beautiful blessing and there should be no negative connotations attached to that comparison."

"You know, for a guy talking to me about letting go of control, you're still doing a whole lot of explaining."

Henry's lips tightened, but he went on.

"It is still something I am working on, but I have learned that while there are many things that I can control, there are some I cannot, and that's okay."

"Alright, but what if it's not?"

"We can't know that for certain."

Ian snorted. "We have had prophetic dreams for millennia now."

"And seers aren't seeing everything, everywhere, all at once. My point remains the same."

They reached the end of the maze, a doorway into a black void that both instantly stepped into. For a second there was nothing then-

"Are... are those tubes?" Henry finally asked.

'I think they're more like pipes."

"I don't remember pipes coming in every color of the rainbow." Henry paused. "Or being able to move like that," he finished weakly.

Ian looked over and it was a good thing that this was a dream and that Henry was dead and no longer had things like a stomach or an endocrine system because he very much looked like a man who wanted to barf.

Personally, Ian found the tubes to be realxing to watch. It felt like his brain was turning off which was... nice.

They watched for a bit.

"Lydia is a month old now."

Henry smiled. "Congratulations. How is fatherhood treating you?"

"I was not prepared for the amount of efflua a small human could make but otherwise things are well."

"Well."

Ian watched as a purple tube and a red tube gently snaked around each other in an intricate dance.

"I... I spend a lot of time looking at her. She's easy, right now. I mean, she's destroying our mental health through sleep deprivation and sonic warfare, but like, I knew to expect that, she's a baby. She... she makes sense, right now.

The red tube turned into a yellow one. "Right now, she's safe because she can't do anything. But what happens when she starts crawling? Talking? Meeting people?"

"You can't control that-"

"Yeah, no shit I can't! I look at Lydia, and all I can think about is all the ways she can die, all the ways I can fail her or do the wrong thing and what if she learns to drive and then crashes on the way to school, or gets addicted to something or-"

Ian ran his fingers through his hair. "She's... she's everything to me. She makes me want to be better, to do better."

"And not Mira?" but there wasn't criticism in that question, more leading-

"Nah. I strive to be better for her too... but Mira is... I know she can take care of her self, I know-"

that Mira would be just fine if Ian went, but a world without Mira in it was

no

no dont

"Mira is an adult," Ian finished lamely.

"Fair enough. It's always different, with kids."

"Does it ever go away?"

"It doesn't. And it does. The days are long, but the years are short."

Ian felt his face pickle, and Henry clapped him on the shoulder.

"Apologies, I'm not trying to be condescending. The fear is always there. But it gets outweighed by the joy of watching them grow, and the minutia of day to day life. Also respectfully, you are deeply sleep deprived right now."

"Okay, but that still doesn't ease the overwhelming existential dread I feel looking at my child and imagining every single way she could die."

"Friend, you could die at any moment yourself- of a collision, of a blood vessel popping, of god knows what. You can run on for a long time, but sooner or later, God will cut you down."

"That is ridiculously folksy."

"Please don't change the subject. What makes you different from Lydia?"

"Because I can control myself! It's different when it's me! I can't control Lydia. I can't control her, I can't plan for her, she's not my PUPPET-"

Ian paused. "I cant control her. And it feels like I can't control myself. And you tell me that I need to relax? To relinquish even more control? When I have him inside of me."

Henry opened his mouth- then paused.

"My apologies, this may be a 'shock'"

Then, before Ian could react, Henry plunged his hand deep inside Ian's chest. For the briefest second it felt... it felt... it felt like his soul was tearing into two-

(was this what it felt like for Paloma for Henry for in between when a demon lifted them to his lips and BIT)

-and just as quickly the sensation was gone and Henry was pulling his hand out of Ian's chest, along with

"Oh. You."

"He was camping at the surface of your consciousness, normally he lies dormant," Henry explained with an apologetic tone.

Around them the room had changed once again. The floor was now a black and white zig-zag patter, and all around the walls were now hung with blood red curtains.

Ian was sitting in a comfortable black love seat next to Henry who also had a comfortable black love seat and next to him was

"Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"DREAM DEMON PAL- I DO WHAT I WANT."

"Yeah, I know, it's deeply annoying. Doesn't answer my question. You're dead."

"DEAD DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING HERE. JUST ASK ANTLERS OVER THERE."

Bill leaned in to whisper in Ian's ear. "HE SHOULDN'T BE HERE EITHER, BUT THOSE DEMON GERMS, THEY HAVE A HABIT OF STICKING. AND SPREADING."

Ian looked at Henry, legs crossed and sitting statue still. He could smell the iron tang of blood from his antlers.

"Yeah, I can see that. Why are you here this time?"

"OL' AXEY HERE HAS BEEN POPPING UP MORE AND MORE. P-R-E-TT-Y IMPRESSIVE FOR A MAN WHOSE SOUL IS GETTING DIGESTED."

"So you're going to..what? Evil plan him? Though I can't even imagine how or why?"

"WHY? YOU SHOULD TAKE A BITE OF THIS GUY YOURSELF, YOU'D REALLY GO FAR!"

Henry wasn't saying or doing anything- why not? For that matter, it made no sense for Bill to be here, not really.

(it really was Bill. That Ian knew, just as he knew that Henry was real, that this dream was real, that if he opened his eye lid to look at both of them he would See-)

Ian blinked. Bill had continued monologing, probably very impressed by how clever and witty he was. But there was no reason for Bill to be here. Bill didn't know why he was here, not really.

But Ian did.

Casually, Ian leaned over, and grabbed Bill by the hand.

"HEY WATCH THE LIMBS, THEY'RE FRESHLY CREATED FROM THE ETHER-"

Ian stood up, and like he was pitching a baseball, began to swing Bill around.

"HEY, YOU CAN'T DO THIS-"

"But I can," Ian muttered under his breath. He twirled and threw Bill as hard as he could at the ceiling.

"A-X-"

"-bsolutely not, not for something this petty and stupid," Ian snapped.

Bill disappeared, along with his little edgelord room. In its place was a black expanse, with floating squares that had smaller squares in them, almost like windows, but they were all different colors and just... floating.

That being settled, Ian whirled around to face Henry.

"What. The fuck. Was that?"

Henry shrugged. "Some lessons work better being shown, not told."

"I... Stars, I am not a child. I cannot even begin to tell you how incredibly dangerous that was." Ian paused. "And fucked up! Super, super fucked up!"

"You needed to know you could do that. You're... I think the phrase is 'in your own head too much'? At least I think that's what Willow would have said."

"That's... okay, fair. I get in my own way more often than not." Ian hufed out a breath. "Cool. My control issues have magically been solved by throwing a tortilla chip from my brain. Whoo-hoo."

Henry frowned. "Why the sarcasm?"

He didn't get it? Seriously?

Ian pinched his nose, and felt his eye burn. "You're trying to... I guess talk me off the ledge? I'm still not entirely sure why you brought Bill out- for once I wasn't worried about him and it was nice! You want to know why I freak out about things beyond my control? Maybe because the last few years have been an absolute convocade or people ignoring my boundaries over and over AND OVER again."

The squares all flashed yellow for a second. "Every time it feels like things are getting back to normal, my feet are swept out from under me all over again. How can I plan for anything, how can-"

how could he feel safe, ever, truly?

The blood drained from Henry's face, leaving it bone white. Unceremoniously, he thunked to the ground, sitting down hard on the void.

(the tips of his antlers were still at the height of Ian's eyes)

His mouth opened once, twice, apologies clearly dying on his lips.

Finally, Henry managed to croak out, "I... remember. What it was like to feel... small. To be small. It's not a good feeling. I tried to not think about it. To not talk about it. Ever. And then Dipper happened to me and-" Henry waved a hand at his antlers. "All of this happened."

"Was it your choice?"

Henry nodded. "It was the only way I could save my daughter. But there were unforseen consequences."

Ian just looked at Henry. That was the understatement of the millennium.

"I guess what I am trying to say is that... I forget, that I am not small any more. That I have power, power over others. And tonight I exercised it in a way that was absolutely inexcusable."

oh.

okay.

"And did you get mad at Dipper? For what he did to you?"

Where did that question come from? Almost like there was another beat in this story that needed to get spelled out and okay that was uncomfortably too meta, even for Ian.

Henry looked perplexed. "No, never."

"Wait, seriously?"

"I asked for it-"

"Oh I do NOT like that turn of phrase-"

"-and as a youngish demon, he had no idea of what would actually happen. I don't think he still knows, actually."

"When did you die?"

"In my 80s."

"And," Ian followed his gut, "when did your wife die?"

"149."

"So. You get turned into a weird monster thing that irrevocably changed the shape of your soul and caused your early death and you aren't mad about that? Even in the slightest?"

While it was still inexcusable, this did explain some of Henry's actions tonight.

Henry said nothing.

Henry was focusing on his breathing.

Finally, he gritted out, "It. wasn't. his. fault."

"It still hurt you though."

Henry nodded.

"And... you're allowed to be mad. You can understand and you can still be pissed, that... that's allowed. Stars did you really not go to therapy when you were alive? Because uh, big yikes."

Henry was still silent. Still still. Finally, he managed "I don't... I can't get mad. I can't allow myself to be mad."

"Respectfully, what's the worse that can happen? Because the worse has already happened to you. Maybe get mad, as a treat?"

"I... oh."

Even after decades of therapy, Ian was still fucked up. He probably always would be fucked up. But he could at least articulate his feelings and knew what he had to work on and yikes yikes yikes.

Henry shook his head and looked at Ian. "My apologies remain, but I know that an apology is meaningless without action. How can I best make amends?"

Ian thought about it for a minute.

"I don't want to see you-" he almost said 'never again' but... but that wasn't entirely true.

"-for a while. Maybe a long while. If I need you, I'll call."

Henry nodded. "And if I show up before then, you know how to kick me out."

"No, I don't?"

Henry grabbed Ian's hand. "Yes. You do. You can."

Oh. Oh.

Standing up, he swung Henry around with one hand- how? this man was literally the size of a moose- and begun to turn, swinging Henry faster and faster and Ian was laughing, laughing and crying and it felt like relief as he pitched Henry through one of the floating windows and out out OUT-

---

Ian showed up to his next therapy appointment with the largest box of chocolates that he and Mira were able to find at the store.

"What's this for?" Dr. Alexis asked.

Ian smiled. "Just a thank you."