#throwing it out here in case it resonates with someone

[cilil]

It's a beautiful day outside. I believe the sun is shining, I can see some tiny rays through the blinds that are still down because I don't really manage to get out of bed these days. For now, being sick and not sleeping well is a good enough excuse.

But it's at this point that I must wonder if, after months of bullshit happening, after now several weeks of avoiding and not getting anything done, after somehow getting sick from stress anyway, depression moved back in. I think she still has a spare key.

It's nice not to be alone, I guess, but I don't really want her here. I remember well how awful she made me feel in the past. Leave me alone, I have work to do. Leave me alone, you'll make me sick. Leave me alone, I said I no longer want to live with anyone else.

She's made herself comfortable. Fine, be like that. I finish typing and take my books, a pen, some post-its, my notes app for writing. Between letters and pages, she can't touch me and I don't hear her voice.

[despair-tea]

that book was pretty good, yea. glad I came back around and finished it.

the (part 1 - end) at the end is so funny - you mean after they resolved all the problems in the story, that's just the beginning? The beginning of the rest of their lives? lmao

[lamnwar]

Locker room Shenanigans // Kagami Taiga x Fem!Reader

MDNI 18+ knb kinktober entry!!

A/N: someone said "anything with kagami" and I love them for that bc that dude is so fiiiine I couldn't do a kinktober without writing about him yk 😫 it's 3.2k words bc I'm horny. Context: what can you, as a basketball team manager, do to cheer up your ace after a defeat? Warnings: Semi-public sex (in the locker room, people can hear them), riding, nipple play, unprotected sex, pussy eater kagami!, slight size kink (I couldn't help myself 😔✋🏽)

“Shit.”

Taiga’s harsh word is shortly followed by a loud clank! that echoes around the empty locker room. You sigh, still hesitating to get inside to look after your player.

He’s never really known loss since his high school days, ever growing to be one of the top players in Japan – if not the best player, which never fails to amaze people considering how extraordinary he already was as a teenager. Talent like that, and that you can say so with confidence from your years of career as team manager, is something incredible yet fragile. Of course, as a sportsman, he knows that you cannot always win. It doesn’t matter how insanely good you are, the game sometimes is nothing more than a product of luck. A mystery force driving the ball from one side to the other of the court, only to lead one team to the top, while the other falls from grace.

It does hurt to see the gut-wrenching look of defeat on the face of your players – you spend so much time with them that their feelings become yours, as if you are bonded by fate. But what really gets you, is seeing Taiga Kagami lose. The frustration written all over his face as he considers any mistake his; because after all, he’s the ace, the one that should carry the team to the top. But sometimes, it’s just not enough.

“Hey” your voice resonates in the empty lockers, forcing the tall man to throw a quick glance at you.

He’s silently slumped against the metallic doors, fingers fidgeting with the ring around his neck. It’s been at least fifteen minutes since the rest of the team has already left the gymnasium. Out of consideration for the red-haired player, you figured he might need some time alone. You’ve stayed behind, not willing to admit that you’re worried about him. Well, in all cases, what can you do? For all you know, he sees you as nothing more than his manager. Yet, you still sit next to him, your hand resting on the one that slumps on his knee. You give it a small squeeze, looking to be supportive.

“You know, I’m not even mad that we lost. I’m just... frustrated.”

You hum in agreement – it’s a fairly normal response to have after being through that kind of loss. The kind that feels like they could have been avoided, yet you can’t really pinpoint the moment things went to shit.

“While I agree that you should vent out that frustration, let’s not break the gym’s locker, yeah?” you chuckle softly.

“Sorry about that, I wasn’t thinkin – ”

“It’s fine, but if you’ll allow me, let me help you out here.”

He sighs, a slight scowl that you’d find cute overwise on his face. But this time, it is a clear expression of his thoughts, and you suddenly feel stupid for even thinking that there’s anything you can do to actually help him.

“I’m listening.”

He’s got nothing to lose, he thinks. He doesn’t expect you to change his mind, but at the very least do something – anything, really – just to make him forget about that daunting feeling for defeat, even if it’s just for a second. You’re taken by surprise, not expecting him to be willing to take any help, let alone from you. He must be truly in a bad state for him to agree to this, you ponder. The hand you had on his leaves as you scratch your cheek, in search for something to say.

“Ah... maybe you should vent it out? Like, in a better way.”

God, you’re a fucking disaster at giving advice.

“So, no punching around? Got it” he lets out, words laced in sarcasm.

You can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your lips – that’s just how lame your advice sounds. Well, you’re not wrong either. Whatever way he feels, wrecking the locker room can’t be the right way to cope.

“You know” you speak without much restraint on your thoughts, “I shouldn’t say that because I’m your manager, but getting shitfaced might help.”

He scoffs – ah, first time that you hear him laugh so far! A small fire warms your inside at the sound. You may not have realised so far, but nothing breaks your heart quite like seeing your players in despair, especially Taiga. What truly gets you is seeing a guy who is always so fired up and loud suddenly... quiet. Just a limp body full of brooding. So that scoff, however small it is, is enough to remind you how much he counts.

“Don’t we have a special training tomorrow?” he rests his head back against the lockers, a hint of a pout on his face.

“Then what do we have left? Alcohol’s out of the way, intense physical activity too...” you click your tongue. “And I really don’t see you do some meditation to feel better.”

“Yeah that breathing your feelings out bullshit is... well, bullshit.”

You laugh softly – that is such a Taiga thing to say. And to be fair, you might share his point of view on the topic. It might help letting out the breath you’ve been holding for too long, but any sort of meditation may, in this current situation, be just as efficient as putting a band-aid on a broken bone. You sigh, eyes falling on the furrow between his eyebrows. You lead your thumb to the crease, pulling the skin up. It’s a fairly childish move, one that makes him let out a semi-annoyed “ah!”.

“What do you do when you get frustrated?” he asks, swatting your finger away.

“Hm... I don’t often get frustrated like that. And if I do, it’s not in the same context.”

“I get that, we do not exactly have the same job here.” He hums, supporting his head in the palm of his hand. “Then what gets you frustrated?”

You stay silent for a minute, thinking. You do have a few things that gets you annoyed, leaving you feeling powerless because it’s out of your control, or just not that easily to solve. The small little things like slow walkers on busy streets, or when you try to teach basic decency to the shittiest guys. But really, nothing that comes as close as how Taiga must be feeling right now. And of course, there is the one thing that frustrates you the most, but that you probably shouldn’t bring up: your months-long period of celibacy.

You’re not proud to say that you haven’t had sex in so long that it sometimes eats at you in ways you wish it wouldn’t. And the worst is that you can’t really do anything about it. It’s not like you to have one-night stands with strangers, and for as much as you try to convince yourself that your fingers are enough, they’re clearly not. It doesn’t help either that you work with basketball players – tall, fine, muscular men who gets you going when seeing them show off their athleticism on the court. Although, to be fair, basketball players aren’t generally your type; but they’ve come to become, in your state of depravity.

But, of course, that’s not something you could say to Taiga Kagami. Especially not when he’s your player that turns you on the most. And yet...

“I get damn frustrated from not getting any” you blurt out.

You can’t tell what motivated you to say it out loud. Maybe because you wish that the embarrassment that comes with it will overshadow Taiga’s feeling of defeat? Because it sure is some kind of entertainment to make fun of your touch-starved self.

“Real” he responds.

You look at him briefly, surprised that he hasn’t laughed at you. You wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. Being a loser that cannot get fucked is not something that you are proud of, but if making fun of you is all it takes to put a smile on the ace’s face, you don’t mind (that much).

“What, like you don’t pull” you chuckle, incredulous, “don’t give me that.”

“It’s not that, it’s just that I don’t feel like having sex with just anybody” he shrugs, a ponderous filter in his eyes, “so I just kinda... wait for the right person to come. But damn, it’s atrocious.”

You laugh, and soon after, so does he. The sound travels straight to your heart, pulling on it with such might that you fear that he might tell already that you like him.

“Fuck, what am I talking about with my player?! Isn’t that a sexual harassment case in the making?”

The tall man chuckles, leg bumping with yours. You can’t say that you’ve cheered him up, but at the very least, he’s no longer sulking. You stop for a moment to observe the fatigue on his face, all this inner turmoil manifesting himself in his chapped lips, and the clench of his jaw, and the way you can tell that he’s been trying hard not to cry or look weak in any way.

“You might be onto something, though. Maybe a good fuck is what I need.”

“I cannot agree or deny.” You huff, a slight blush on your face. “Hope you find what you need for that.”

He hums, then lets out a long sigh. The gym is awfully silent, now that most players and most of the public is gone. You can hear the administrative staff outside the lockers, but there is some sense of peace right where you are, next to Taiga.

“Wanna go for a drink?” he suddenly ask, getting you to respond with a confused expression.

“What? Didn’t we agree that alcohol is out of the way? Not to mention that it’ll ruin your recup –”

“No, dummy” he punctuates his words with a small hit on your head, “I’m hitting on you.”

“Wh- where does that come from?!”

“You need to fuck, so do I. And I like you so I’m trying to be proactive... or something like that.”

You blink, not quite sure how to react to such an overflow of information. What should your brain start to analyse first, anyway? Should you focus on the reflection that led him to say something like that, figure out what kind of process is behind this conclusion? Or should you take in the new fact that he likes you? So much for you to take, and you don’t even realise when your finger went up to hook in the ring around his neck, or when you pulled him closer, and you can’t even tell what pushed you to kiss him.

Taiga is stunned, to say the least; but it seems that his reflexes aren’t only quick on the court, because his astonishment is only short-lived. By the time you register what’s going on, he’s got his hands on your cheek, holding you firmly, yet in a tender touch, as you taste his lips against him. The kiss is unusual, confusing. Wanted, yet not. His lips are soft, but his touch isn’t. You keep wanting more but you know you shouldn’t. It’s just too hard to stop, though, and the way your player grabs you makes you understand that you’ve started something that you can’t run away from. You pull away, panting, dazed by the feel of his touch on you. He looks like a dream, out of your reach despite his hands on your hips that hoist you up on his lap.

“Taiga...” you sigh, not sure of what you are pleading for.

“If you wanna stop, just tell me.”

You stay silent, watching his fingers pull on your top. It doesn’t even cross your mind to stop him. What is it, really? Is the frustration you’ve been feeling all this time from not getting fucked in so long? Or is it the attraction you’ve always felt for him, for once being expressed?

“Should we... they’re people outside. The door isn’t even locked!”

“I can keep quiet, can you?”

You stare at him, his challenging tone flipping a switching in your brain. You help him get you rid of your top, leaning in to give him a full-mouth, hearty, kiss.

“Bet. You gotta do a good job at keeping me quiet, too, though.”

He hums, soft lips trailing kisses down your neck to your collarbones, a certain urgency in the way it navigates on your skin on its way to your chest. You swallow your breath, feeling the warmth of his mouth on the sensitive skin of your breasts – your bra being a ridicule barrier between what you both want and the reality. He doesn’t bother removing your underwear, rather pushing the cups out of the way. You mumble a few swear words when he attaches his mouth to your nipples, his tongue and lips working languidly, almost as if he’s hiding malicious intents under his ministrations.

“Fuck, Taiga!” you grit your teeth, fingers intertwined in his hair as to pull him closer to your skin.

“Always wanted to do that,” he chuckles, letting go of your nipple in a wet pop! “every time I see you in your tight shirts, making me wonder if I’ll ever get to taste you.”

You laugh, flicking his forehead playfully. “Ah, so there’s some stuff other than basketball in that big head.”

He nods, lifting you up to sit on the bench. You let out a gasp, not expecting him to manoeuvrer your body with such ease. But at the same time, he is arguably one of the physically strongest players of the league – should you really be that surprised?

“Pants off, Manager. Gotta prep you nice if you’re gonna take me.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?”

He lifts an eyebrow, settling between your thighs.

“Huh? I’m not joking, that shit can tear you. It’s no use if I hurt you.”

You look at him, processing that piece of information. For the amount of time you spend in the lockers surrounded by half-naked men, you’ve learned not to look down there, out of decency. The last thing a team manager should be doing is staring at her players’ packages. But for some reason, you resign at not pushing your luck with Taiga. All things considered, he most likely has a massive cock.

You urgently let your pants and underwear slide down your thighs, pooling at your ankle as your dripping cunt presents itself to the player’s dark eyes. He swears, spreading your thighs enough for him to admire your needy hole – clenching desperately, and yet, he hasn’t done a thing.

“Well, might actually not need that much prepping” he ponders, letting his rough digits roam between your lips, spreading them open as your arousal coat his fingers. “You’re a bit greedy, aren’t you? Barely touched you.”

“Shut up, it’s been a while!”

“I know that much.”

His soft laughs reverb against the skin of your thighs, kisses and nips decorating them as he gets closer to your vulva. Oddly, the sight warms your heart – there is a certain beauty in seeing a man that was previously defeated now sporting an elated smile, and all that, thanks to your pussy.

An impatient, yet mind-boggling lick at your cunt, Taiga hums at the taste of your honey on his tongue. You let out a loud whimper, quickly covering your mouth when you consider the voices coming from the hall outside. It’s so hard to keep quiet when you have Taiga Kagami between your legs. His tongue is strong and agile, quite like him on the court, reaching the right places to make you squirm, almost sliding off the metal bench if it isn’t for his solid hold on your thighs. He’s a man starving, quenching his appetite in your oasis, taken by desperation, a greedy need to vent out all his troubles in your pussy.

“Fuck that, I wanna fuck you.” He groans, licking his lips.

“Not gonna make me come?”

He shakes his head, standing up to pull his sweats down, boxers stained by the bit of pre-cum he’s already leaking just from enjoying your body so far. You fuss, the loss of his tongue on your aching clit feels like a betrayal of the worst sort. The red-head lets out an amused huff – it’s somewhat cute, seeing his oh-so-serious manager losing her shit from how much she needs to get fucked. An amused smirk on his lips, he tugs your pouting ass on his lap; you gasp, the feeling of his bulge against your pussy making you realise that this is really happening.

“Wanna ride me instead?” he hums, manoeuvring with one hand to extirpate his cock from its confines. “See if I was really being cocky early, hm?”

You feel like a slut for being that eager, shamelessly grinding against him, not even hiding your impatience to feel him in. Hell, you don’t even care about how uncomfortable the metal feel under your knees as you straddle his lap – no, it’s all pointless compared to the god-sent feeling of his bulbous tip at your entrance, prying the doors open to make you curse like a sailor. You sink down on his dick, fingers gripping his shoulders with all your might. Have you been depraved for that long? Or does it feel heavenly to bounce on his cock because it might just be the best one you’ve ever had?

Your half-lidded eyes fall on his figure – he’s not even fully undressed, clothes dishevelled while his naked manager ride him like the most experienced whore. Curious ears catch winds of your moans, moans that Taiga tries as much as he can to swallow with his sloppy kisses, but he can’t even help himself. The grunts that leave his throat; feeling your walls clenching around his cock, forcing him to hold you by the waist to guide your movements to match his desperation.

“Holy fuck, you take me so well” he groans – no, it’s more of a raspy whine.

“Dick... so good!” you babble, in deep struggle to be coherent.

You may try as hard as you can to use your words to clarify the chaos in your mind, but you are no poet. Just the nicest manager on Earth, most certainly, letting her player deal with her frustration by pounding into her like a man depraved. Sex written all over your faces, you don’t bother to keep quiet anymore. The more he goes, the harder it gets. You roll your hips frantically, the knot in your stomach that you’ve missed for so long menacing to unravel.

“Ah! Shit sorry, I don’t think I can’t pull out of that pussy...” he pants, trying his best to delay his orgasm just so he doesn’t come too fast.

“Don’t!”

Your hurried answer makes him chuckle – he could never expect that from someone he thinks of as the personification of responsibility. But there’s no point in asking question or getting confused. He’s got one thing in mind, and that’s the fuck all of the frustration out of both your systems. Mind too busy with your body to think about his loss, about the daunting feeling of failure. Who fucking cares, when he has you?

“Shit!”

You mewl, clenching tight around him as you’re hit by the waves of your orgasm, triggering Taiga’s. He spills heavily, thick thighs trembling under you as he sloppily thrust all his cum in your voracious hole. He pants, head falling on your shoulder in solace.

No but seriously, can Taiga Kagami truly know defeat, when he’s never once failed at making a pretty girl come?

[captainsharkyy]

Happy Valentine's Day, guys! Here goes my first post on Tumblr

Matthias Czernin x Reader

The paper flowers started to appear on the floor in front of his door only a few days after he arrived at the manor. They would appear in the morning and after dinner. One after another, Matthias wasn't quite sure what to do with them, and he couldn't throw them away mindlessly after seeing how carefully crafted they were. Did whoever put the paper flowers in front of his door know that was to his room? He doubted they were truly for him, but when the flowers started to come bunched up into mini bouquets, he began to feel a little special.

The first paper flower was a camellia. He accidentally stepped on it coming out of his room, but he saved it and kept it on his desk. He wondered, that day, if that paper flower was really meant for him or not. Surely there was someone next to him who was more deserving of such a craft. The paper flower that showed up after dinner was a sunflower that Matthias also accidentally stepped on.

He quickly asked his next door neighbor, the embalmer, if the paper flower was meant for him. The man seemed a little spooked but kept his calm composure. He let out a soft 'no' before returning to his room for the night. Matthias looked down at the paper sunflower curiously, then he heard footsteps coming from the hallway behind him. He turned around to face the person walking,

"Excuse me," he said, loud enough for the person to hear. They stopped in their tracks, standing stiff straight. "I found this paper flower in front of my door, and I feel it was not meant for me," he continued. "So, I was wondering if, ah, if you knew who this belongs to..?" The person quickly shook their head and ran to their room and shut the door immediately. With a disappointed sigh, Matthias returned to his room and placed the paper sunflower next to the camellia from that morning.

The third paper flower was a tulip, and the one after dinner was a lilly of the valley. The fith paper flower was a blue star, and the one that came later on was an orange rose.

The seventh paper flower was a lavender. By now, Matthias had enough of the paper crafts to make a bouquet if he so wanted to.

That day, he consulted the gardener to see if she had anything to do with the flowers. She only giggled at his question and directed him to the library to a few books on flowers. He sat down at a small table with a few books, picking one up and looking through the glossary for the specific flowers.

As he slowly read through, a nice feeling resonated within him. Happiness, maybe? He couldn't quite tell. A small smile graced his features. Maybe the flowers were meant for him after all. He heard a few books fall and someone running out of the library fast.

That night, when Matthias returned to his room, a yellow tulip and a singular pink rose were tied together in front his his door. This continued for a few weeks: a paper flower in the morning, attend games (if any), dinner, and a paper flower at night. Of course, by now, he had heard of Y/n L/n, the origamist, but he could never find them in a manor, not even in games either. And no matter who Matthias asked, no one ever said where they were. It was as if everyone was helping them hide from something. He couldn't help but feel like he had something to do with it, as though they were afraid of him.

The thought didn't exactly boost his confidence by much at all, but he could fight the bad feelings off when the paper flowers continued to arrive. He assumed it meant that Y/n could see him, but he couldn't see them. If that was the case, he hoped they would show themself to him one day.

Looking at the floor when he opened his door, Matthias noticed a difference. Instead of one paper flower, there was a small bouquet of them. He picket up the bouquet of paper gardenias with care and placed them on his night stand, next to a few stray flowers from the previous weeks. He had acquired so many paper flowers that they flooded his desk, so he had to place them in random areas in his room. Although, he did get a few vases for them and that cleared up a lot of space.

Matthias had found no sign of Y/n that day, but he did come back to his room that night to two bouquets: one being a bouquet of forget-me-nots, and the other a bouquet of pink roses. He smiled a little, at the thought that maybe getting two paper bouquets in the same night meant something.

The next morning there was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, and that night there was a bouquet of white lillies. And the morning afterward, there was a bouquet of ivory roses, and that night there was a bouquet of lavender roses.

When Matthias opened the door the next morning there was no bouquet of paper flowers. Confused, he looked down the hall but there was no sign of one. Perhaps they grew tired of making paper flowers for him, or perhaps they lost interest in him as a whole? But that couldn't be, those flowers held meanings he just couldn't ignore.

He didn't realize what day it was until he walked the halls of the manor, seeing the decorations, and seeing people in the manor trade gifts and heartfelt words. Matthias felt his stomach sink with disappointment that his secret admirer he didn't leave a gift in front of his door like they usually would do.

Matthias walked back to his room, coming from the main living room of the manor. The devastating sound of creaking wood and gears clinked and ground together beside him.

"Too bad everyone ignored you!" Said Louis. "Did'ya see? Everyone looked at me!" Matthias opened the door from the foyer, leading to the upstairs level of the manor, and Louis skipped beside him. Matthias said nothing in response, opting to ignore him lest he wants to feel further down in the dumps. Once he stepped in front of his room and turned the handle to open the door, and hand suddenly slapped against the wall causing him to jump in suprise and turn his attention to the noise. He focused his attention on the mystery person with a pounding heart, only to be surprised once again.

A survivor he hadn't yet met in person greeted him with (e/c) eyes glimmering with excitement, cheeks tinted a bright red, a bouquet of paper flowers and a pink envelope with a red heart wax seal. Within the bouquet were carefully crafted red roses, lavender flowers, daisies, and red snapdragons

Matthias's voice caught in his throat as he cautiously accepted the envelope and tore the wax seal to open it and took out the card inside to read it.

"Dear Matthias,

Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm sorry if I disappointed you for a while before this, I wanted to wait until the perfect moment to give this to you. I just wanted to tell you that I really like you, and I'd like to spend more time with you! So, I wanted to know if you will be my Valentine's!

Yours truly, Y/n L/n, the Origamist."

Matthias felt his face flush red. It was them! Finally, he meets Y/n! His features were graced with a small smile when Y/n moved the bouquet closer to him. He cleared his throat,

"W-Would you..." he hesitated, knowing Louis would be with him, "...like to come in?" He asked them. With a delighted smile, they eagerly nodded their head. Matthias opened the door to his room and stepped aside for them and then followed in afterwards. Louis's face hit the closed door with a thud and a groan followed afterward.

Hope you liked it!

[nobodylikety]

Pack by fate 🐾

I quite liked @dmndtears 's idea about what to write about for my Hybrid!New Jeans AU, so here's another fic (not so mini) ! I hope you like it <3

tags: Hybrid! New Jeans AU x Fem!Reader (you can see it in a romantic or platonic way), fluff.

featuring: Bear!Minji, Puppy!Danielle, Bunny!Hanni, Cat!Haerin, Fox!Hyein.

summary: The adoption day at the hybrid shelter is the best option to bring home a new friend. Or maybe five.

Bunny!Hanni 🐰

The hybrid shelter building is full of all kinds of noises, from barking and meowing to some roaring and growling. A much bigger bustle than usual, taking into account that it is the annual adoption day.

Some hybrids are outside playing and doing their own things, some playing in groups outside or perhaps enjoying their own company, as is the case with Hanni. With a shy personality, the hybrid bunny has poor social battery when it comes to large crowds, so at the first opportunity she chose to retreat to her room, take a break, and recharge her energy. She could then return to the crowd of future adopters.

So she is lying on her tummy, with the laptop resting on the bed, and her little floppy ears on either side of her head. Her cotton tail wags with excitement from time to time, in reaction to what she sees on her screen. Hanni loves movies, they are her favorite thing. And there's nothing that can make her take her attention away from her laptop screen.

Or maybe yes.

Her little nose catches a scent. One that smells good, that is sweet and inviting. How can something smell so good? what is it?

Hanni's floppy ears twitch. She takes the remote control and pauses the movie, heading to the door of her room. She pokes her head out slowly, to see what's going on and maybe, with a little luck, discover the source of that smell. In the hallway she sees the owner of the adoption center, chatting animatedly with someone whose face she cannot see. So for Hanni she is still a faceless adopter, an anonymous person, but her smell gives her away.

Hanni's nose twitches slightly, recognizing that that pleasant, sweet aroma is that person's. It's your smell. It's you.

Mate.

The words resonate in her head and make her body tense at the idea, the possibility of having you in her life. It may be so? That you are her mate? At that thought, Hanni's cheeks are beyond rosy. Oh my god, it's a full color blush. And it gets worse when you turn around, so that both you and the owner of the hybrid shelter are looking at her.

And Hanni can't think of anything better than to scream and sneak back into her room, because she's panicking, and her heart is racing, over the top. She can't believe you're real. But there you are. Which, in turn, raises more doubts in her racing, panicked brain: what if it's a dream, and she wakes up again without a mate? What if you don't want her as your mate anyway?

"Hanni," the sweet voice of Yunjin, the owner of the hybrid shelter, brings her out of her thoughts. With her hand she gestures for her to come closer and she does, although she trembles from head to toe. “We have a visitor, do you want to meet her?”

Hanni stands between you and Yunjin, not saying anything. She smiles shyly, and her cheeks are delicately colored a shade of pink.

"She's shy, but she's a good hybrid to have around." You nod, while smiling. Hanni's gaze only rests on you for a few seconds and she looks away, nervously. In an attempt to calm her down, you reach into your pocket. Without needing to see what it is, she knows it. She smells it. They are treats! Yummy.

“Hi, Hanni,” You greet, showing her the small brown heart-shaped treat. You throws it to her and clumsily—Hanni is not the best when it comes to physical activities—she catches it in the air.

Hanni looks so happy as she chews, her nose wrinkling cutely with each bite, and her happy feet tapping. You laugh when you see her, touched; those floppy ears and that cotton tail can easily become your favorites.

“I'll let you spend some time with her, she seems to like you,” Yunjin smiles. “I'll be away with the other hybrids, but call me if you need anything.”

Yunjin walks away, tapping her heels softly, until she disappears from your field of vision. Then you turn to see Hanni, who approaches timidly but cautiously. There is a glint of curiosity in her eyes. Her closeness is nice, but it still makes you crack a nervous smile, because this is new to you.

With a docile gesture she sniffs your hands and then moves up your wrists, following the trail of your scent with great concentration. She then gently rubs her face against your hands and wrists, as if nuzzling it. It's a sweet and adorable picture enough to make your heart burst.

“Mate,” she murmurs under her breath, but you manage to understand what she says. This is not a coincidence, or a listening error. She called you her mate. And it feels right, for some reason. Totally right.

You gently run your fingers behind her floppy ears, scratching her.

"Say, do you want me to take you home?" You ask, hesitantly. You're afraid she'll say no. But from the way she shyly presses herself against you, it's all yes.

Puppy!Danielle 🐶

Dani likes to be with other hybrids and people, a social butterfly if you will. She always has a smile on her face to cheer up and play with others; Even if she's not the oldest, the way she acts has the vibe of being the cheerful big sister of the shelter.

Her dream has always been to one day have a home with a family that loves her, but it has always been difficult due to her hyperactivity. That is why she always tells others that they will adopt them or encourages them, although she rarely thinks of such a fate for herself. She prefers to play and have fun, to avoid thinking that that opportunity may never come.

And oh boy, Danielle likes to play a lot! That's why they had to build a new playground just for her and hybrids like her, who are hyper but playful.

Today said play area is empty, leaving Danielle with no one to play with. The adoption journey is going very well, and many of her friends have already found good new homes. So in the absence of a playing partner, Danielle approaches the device that automatically threw the ball, which is almost as entertaining as having someone actually throwing the ball to her.

That's the dream! have someone to play catch with.

“Woof!” Danielle barks happily as the ball launches, running after it. In the middle of the race the ball hits the corner of one of the tables, which makes it change direction towards the door. And Danielle does the same.

As she approaches to the door, and to her surprise and joy, the door opens just as the ball lands in said area, rolling along the floor until it settles and stops between someone's legs.

Danielle runs to chase and catch the small tennis ball, only to be caught by a sweet, pleasant smell herself. Dani has never known the meaning of 'stay still', so her attempt to stop dead isn't very good, and she practically lands on her belly, sliding to the person's feet, where her ball is in the middle of them.

Her ears perk up, and her tail wags. That puppy tail wags like crazy, as she looks up and sees you. Dani smiles at you, a wide, goofy smile, as she bends down to pick up the ball.

The sweetened scent is yours, Dani manages to sniff it more clearly as she bends down. Will you have any treat somewhere? Will it be steak flavor? Oh, she hopes it's steak flavor. It's a heavenly smell, like it was made just for Danielle.

Mate.

Danielle is in game mode, looking with her big eyes and smiling her goofy smile at the ball. Her tail wags expectantly, as you look at her, smiling.

“Do you want me to throw it to you?” She asks, grabbing the ball and shaking it slightly.

Danielle's long tail slaps against the ground, panting. Thump thump. "Yeah! throw the ball, throw the ball!"

“Go catch it!” You throw the ball past her, hoping it doesn't collide or hit anything, as Danielle darts away like an arrow. Like a hyperactive and playful arrow.

Scurrying and jumping, Danielle catches the tennis ball between her teeth, biting and chewing it, turning to look at you. Her tail wags again. She then turns to you in time with her wagging tail, with an aura of pride as she puffs out her chest.

She drops the ball at your feet and sits on the floor, panting louder as she tries to catch her breath.

“What a good girl,” You praise her as you bend down, running your hands through her hair and her ears, rubbing them. You do it gently, giving her the option to move away from her if she wanted to.

But she doesn't turn away from you.

"Hey Hey hey! I’m Danielle!” Without warning she jumps up and knocks you down, circling around you with barks of joy. You smell too good! and you called her a good girl! you are the most perfectly perfect choice of mate for her!

The hybrid puppy you just met is way to different from the peaceful hybrid you already own, Hanni. You laugh, trying to stand up, following the wide circles Danielle makes as she runs around, you with your eyes. Her smile is so wide that you see her teeth perfectly white, and just a little bit sharp yet.

Brushing off some of the dust and dog hairs from the floor that sticks at your clothes, you finally stand up. Danielle is taller than you expected, considering that she is still young. She's nothing more than a huge puppy, and the thought makes you smile. Even blush a little.

"Are you here to adopt?" she asks, but now more cautiously. She stops and she lowers both her ears and her tail, less energetic. She looks sad, for some reason. You wonder why she is sad.

"Yeah, that's why I came," You see her looking at the ground, a sad smile spreading across her lips.

“Whoever you adopt will be very lucky, huh,” Danielle doesn't even mention herself among the possible hybrids to adopt. It's like she's ruling out that possibility. As if because of her hyper nature she was not worthy of adoption.

The heart in your chest breaks at her tone. You reach a hand towards her head, tentatively. "And would you be willing to be adopted? You're such a good and playful puppy, so cute..."

Those words light her spirits. The sparkle in her eyes reappears, as does her happiness.

Next thing you know, her arms are around you, pulling you close and licking your cheek with her tongue. You pat her head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You thought you were only going to find the hybrid of your dreams once, with Hanni, but you realize it turns out to be two. Danielle is the hybrid of your dreams as much as Hanni.

"Mate! I’m going home with my mate!” Danielle barks, releasing you and spinning in circles. The carefree, yet loving way of saying it makes you tense up a little. Danielle also thinks you're her mate, like Hanni? and again, it doesn't sound bad. In fact, hearing it sounds good. Sounds perfect, fits.

"Okay, let's go so we can go to the office," After you saying it Dani protests in a whining tone, then hugging you tighter around the waist and pressing her face against your back, between your shoulder blades. You realize that she refuses to let you go, because it is the first time she has had a person. Someone who doesn't mind her dizzy, hyper nature.

She can't let you go like this.

You roll your eyes, laughing with a comical snort.

“Okay fineee, you can come with me, but I need to walk” Danielle's laughter vibrates against your back, huffing out the last note.

So your trip to the office to legalize this new adoption results in Danielle practically glued to you, her arms never letting go of your waist for the world.

In contrast to Hanni's gentle, quiet and shy nature, Danielle is clingy, protective and hyper. And yet, both are your home. There is no other puppy for you but Danielle.

Bear!Minji 🐻

Minji is a hybrid who likes to take naps, since her ursid nature is strong and therefore makes her prone to naps as a form of brief hibernation. In addition to that, sunlight can make her fall asleep anywhere, no matter the location.

Although of course, her favorite place to take a nap is to plop down on a person she likes, so from time to time she gets together with some hybrids, especially the cuddly and calm ones, so she can take a nap with them. Minji has a simple life: wake up, snuggle, eat, nap, snuggle, repeat.

Today Minji's favorite place is in front of the door that leads to the yard, so close that she could be hit if someone opened the door all the way. The bear hybrid didn't take that into consideration when she went to sleep, since if she had, she would have moved a little further away. Although she wanted to explore the place and decided on that place because the warm sun was filtering through a large window, so she decided to give it a try.

Minji is sloppily curled up, her teddy bear ears and tail twtiching subtly, just out of habit. Although when you open the door, you don't see the hybrid behind you, but rather a vaguely defined lump wearing a large hoodie, and from whose head pokes two fluffy brown ears. You stop, and without pushing the door further, you enter through the gap and stick your head out to see more clearly the bear hybrid lying there.

Her dark brown hair, which looks incredibly soft like a stuffed animal. Her tail is little like a cotton ball with brown fur. She is beautiful, a teddy bear come true. You smile and push to the back of the room and close the door as quietly as you can, trying not to startle her. You surround her body and kneel a few centimeters away from her, beginning to gently call her to come closer.

“Little bear, please wake up,” you click your tongue at her as you shake her shoulder a little, repeating that phrase over and over again. Minji only snores loudly in response, as would be expected from a huge bear hybrid like her.

But finally, and dazed by your shaking, Minji slowly opens her eyes with a yawn, confused at having no idea what's happening. She runs her hands through her messy hair, her eyes barely open to look at you. You laugh at her curious expression of 'I just woke up and I don't know who I am, where I am or what year it is.'

“I'm sorry, I didn't want you to get hurt. You were sleeping in front of the door,” you explain to the bear hybrid, gesturing towards the door to show her what you meant. She just looks at you with an unreadable expression, probably because she's still half asleep.

But in reality, Minji is freaking out inside. As a bear hybrid she is somewhat nearsighted, since she doesn't see as well, but her sense of smell is very good. And it is her sense of smell that picks up your scent. That smell of yours drives her crazy! She just wants to fall on top of you and snuggle in your scent. Those sleepy eyes of her can't stop staring at your pretty face.

What is this? Why does you smell so good and so sweet, like the honey she loves to eat? Do you have some kind of magic to cast a spell on her? Oh, you smell so sweet and so divine that her mouth is watering…

An echo resonates in her brain, with a sound like the snapping of fingers, realizing what you are to her.

Her mate.

The ways fate works are funny because it brought you two together, but you found her, and Minji didn't have to find you. What good luck to her!

“Hey, hi?” You wave your hand in front of her face, making her react. She blinks, and smiles. It's a goofy, sleepy smile. It's cute how she always looks like she's sleepy.

"Call me Minji," her voice is more of a hum, soft and slow. It's different from Hanni's way of speaking, soft but squeaky, and Danielle's, energetic and fast. In greeting you extend your hand, which she doesn't hesitate to pick it up and sniff it. She's a little rougher because she's big, but in no way violent or that could potentially hurt you. She's just a big, chubby teddy bear.

Your scent is very pleasant to smell, calming to the point of making her drowsy again. She presses her nose against your side, sniffing you. She inhales deeply, as if filling herself with your scent. And xhe growls, she growls like a bear cub when she finds the comfort of her mommy. It's unexpected how a bear as big as her is as gentle as a teddy bear. But it is like this.

“Adopt me,” Minji asks you, just like that. Her direct way of asking makes you choke on your saliva, before laughing.

"We just met, don't you want to meet me first?" You ask her coughing, half laughing and half choking. Most hybrids take at least a week before becoming comfortable with an owner, or at least a full day.

"I know everything I need, duh. You're my mate, of course!" Minji pushes your hand with her nose, her cottontail waving to a lively rhythm.

That word again.

Mate.

How many mates can a person have? can you have three? Hanni, Danielle and…Minji?

"Mate?" You ask, smiling a little.

"Uh-huh, I smell you. We hybrids have mates…, or some do, and mine is you," she smiles while she shrugs, as if it wasn't a big deal. Then she yawns loudly, rubbing her face with her hands. “Now, I'm tired. Could you go do the paperwork so I can go back to my nap?”

Minji is the middle ground between the gentle Hanni and the hyperactive Danielle. She just wants to take naps on you. How could you say no to such a giant teddy bear?

Cat!Haerin 🐈‍⬛

While you and your hybrids—Hanni, Danielle, and Minji—are having a sweet time in each other's company, there's a black cat hybrid named Haerin who's fuming. Her twitching ears, bristly tail and slightly arched body, along with a clenched jaw in a sign of indignation, is enough evidence.

She doesn't seem interested in being at the hybrid shelter's adoption day, and she looks down with disdain at the rest of her fellow hybrids and the potential adopters, occasionally hissing under her breath. She flatly refuses the idea of being adopted, since until now, all the potential owners she has seen speak to her in baby-like tones and seem like idiots, and that does not appeal to her. She doesn't want anything to do with any of those airheads. So Haerin takes refuge on top of the roof of the yard, which is made of old, hard reddish tiles, which warm in the sun and are very pleasant to lie on at that time of day.

Or at any time, especially when you want to avoid socializing. Just like Haerin, right now.

She simply lies on the half-warm tiles, watching the entire scene from above. From up there she doesn't have to deal with stupid babbling or hyper hybrids, like that stinky puppy Danielle, until she catches a scent. A scent so good, so appealing, a one that she likes so much (especially since Haerin never likes anything), that makes Haerin want to tear her nose off with her hands.

Because she knows what it is.

Oh god, how annoying, she curses with another hiss, now for the tenth time in just a quarter of an hour.

Haerin knows that that smell is that of her mate.

And she has never wanted a mate.

Quite the contrary, she has always wanted to enjoy her solitude. And you, even without knowing what you are to her, precisely, are ruining that plan. She wants to go scratch with you, like the good hybrid cat that she is. She has to solve this, because she can't have a mate!

So she decides to go down. With a jump, she gracefully lands in a quieter, less crowded area of the shelter courtyard, so she can walk over and begin to infiltrate the crowd and hunt you down. Not literally hunt you down though, just finding you and convincing you (or maybe convincing herself) that it is not necessary to be mates.

And she finds you.

You are simply relaxing in the shelter, watching your hybrids play, smile and laugh. They are getting along well with each other, learning to live together because that's how it will be when you take them home. They have to get used to each other, and they are doing it really well!

"Hi, what's up?" You ask, smiling softly at the hybrid that approaches you. She has black hair, and the fanciest ears you've ever seen.

"Listen. I smelled you and we are mates. But I don't need you. So go back the way you came and don't adopt me, thank you,” And just like that, after making such a statement, Haerin decides to leave. But you grab her by the wrist, stopping her from leaving.

“Why can’t I adopt you?” You ask while tilting your head, without understanding.

“Oh, believe me. You don’t want to adopt me.”

“But if we are mates, the logical thing would be for us to be together, right?”

“The logical thing is that you leave me alone, cheap human, before we scratch each other to death like a cockfight” Haerin has claws. You just noticed it. Glup.

“Hey! why are you so angry with me?” Trying to appeal to her heart, you pout. It's ridiculous how you're trying to get Haerin, who is also your mate, to not reject you.

But she's getting defensive.

“Why do I want a mate, anyway? Besides, you're pathetic. You look you're going to cry” It is easy to notice that Haerin has a sharp and snarky tongue. What is difficult is trying to see beyond that seemingly inaccessible attitude, which seems like a mask that masks what she truly feels.

"I'm not going to cry! I was just being nice," you point out in defense, letting go of her wrist. You wait for her to pull away, but she doesn't. Although she is as stiff as a branch, looking at you with some hostility, beyond the initial caution. "What's your name? If you're going to make fun of me, at least let me know who you are."

“My name is Haerin,” Haerin replies grumpily. It is evident that this hybrid is not very sociable, so to speak. And as you take a closer look at her sullen demeanor, you begin to understand Haerin; she has a big emotional shell over her, but maybe if you dig deep enough, and with effort, you could get to her heart.

But yeah..., she doesn't seem like the type of hybrid girl who just gives herself to someone. It's like she first puts you on a kind of trial period, allowing you to get to know a little more every day the fragments of the real Haerin, before giving herself completely to you. You think it won't be easy, but you still have nothing to lose if you try.

Haerin snorts, rolling her eyes. Her black furred ears twitch slightly.

“Listen. I know we're mates, but even if we are, don't expect anything from me because…” And before Haerin has time to react, Danielle suddenly hugs her while barking 'HI, NEW FRIEND!'. Her tail wags like crazy, barking with joy, to which Haerin hisses. In any case, the puppy does not accept the reference, so the hybrid cat has no choice but to uncomfortably return the hug.

You are now a few steps further back, with Hanni gently leaning on your shoulder with shy and calm expression, while Minji keeps yawning and half-flopping on your back, hugging you from behind.

Haerin decides to approach you to try to ask for help and get rid of Danielle. "HEY, YOU! GET HER OFF ME!"

But Hanni gets scared by her sudden scream and hides behind you, and Minji does react, but only to see Haerin slightly confused. Why does such a dwarf cat scream so loudly?

“Come on, Dani, let's leave Haerin alone. Be a good girl, mhm?” You tell her as you run your fingers behind her ears, scratching her gently. She whimpers with pleasure, backing away. She knows she has to control her hyperactivity, and what better incentive to calm down than for you to pet her?

"Control your snotty dog," Haerin hisses, her tail bristling. Then it swings behind her, in a defensive attitude. "And leave me alone"

"But owner!" Danielle whines, nudging you with the side of her head on the arm. "She's our mate! I smell it!"

Oh, great, the snotty dog knows it too, Haerin snorts.

"I'm not!"

“Then why does she want to adopt you?” Minji asks, in turn. She is the biggest, practically dwarfing the others.

“I mean, yes I am. But I don't need a mate."

"I think you're too stubborn to admit that you do need your mate," Hanni now comments, in a soft tone. She doesn't want to get into trouble, but she believes it is necessary to shed some light on the matter.

That under Haerin's cold 'I don't need a mate' mask, there is a cat hybrid who, although she wants to live with her destined mate, is afraid of being vulnerable.

"I'm not stubborn," Haerin clicks her tongue, her tail giving a sort of whiplash. She's grumpy, it's already clear. "So you can see, I'm going to show you..., HEY, TRASH HUMAN!"

What a cute pet name, 'trash human.' Yeah, totally loving.

"Yeah?" You ask softer, a smile barely hinted at. You don't want to exalt Haerin and have her jump on you with her claws.

“Listen, adopt me. But stop looking at me like that, you look like an idiot” Haerin blurts out without thinking, out of the desperation of the moment, hoping to silence Hanni and Minji about her not-being-stubborn-thing.

"Really?"

"Holy damn cat litter, are you deaf or something? I told you yes, adopt me" Patience isn't a virtue in Haerin either, but you appreciate the effort. Or the attempt that she is listening to you and responding to you, instead of scratching you.

"No, I'm sorry, I was just distracted," You shake your head slightly, before offering her a real, radiant smile. "But it makes me happy that you want to join. Seriously. So I'm going to get the adoption papers, and you stay here with the girls in the meantime"

It's too risky, but you reach out and scratch behind her ear. Although you almost assume she will say something, probably in a sarcastic tone, she just purrs. Like she enjoys your touch, only she won't admit it. But a gesture is worth a thousand words, and you simply know it.

"I'll be back"

While you go, for the fourth time to the hybrid shelter offices to make another adoption official, Haerin remains in the custody of Hanni, Danielle and Minji.

“I suppose that if she is going to adopt you now too, you have a c-c-commitment to us. I hope you know what that means, and maybe one day you will enjoy it and it will become something you like,” Hanni suggests, with an adorable half-stutter, moving her floppy ears to one side. She smiles shyly, as two rosettes form on her cheeks. "W-we already like you, so I think we'll be f-fine."

"And the most important thing, and perhaps the only thing you really need above any cat item, is love, Haerin. May you be part of us because we are a family now and we love each other, not because it is your obligation."

Danielle, as much of a goofy, giddy puppy as she is, is an occasional fountain of wisdom. And now she shares a little of her wisdom with Haerin, planting the seed of an idea that hopefully can germinate and grow. She had known Haerin since they were both baby hybrids in diapers, and she knew that life had hardened her heart to resist adversity and pain, and now she hopes that with you (and with them too) she can find a way to have a normal and, hopefully, happy life again.

“We'll see what happens,” Haerin murmurs, as she tentatively approaches you, once you get back from the shelter offices. You watch her body language, still tense and somewhat grouchy, but there's a glimpse in her eyes that she has softened.

Just a little.

But she's being soft.

An yeah, maybe Haerin doesn't get along at all with Danielle, Hanni and Minji yet, and she still has reservations about you despite the fact that you are certainly her mate, but she still allowed herself to be adopted. Why did the only girl whose heart is locked let you adopt her?

You don't know it yet, but maybe you are the key to that locked heart.

Fox!Hyein 🦊

Hyein has been watching. Her hybrid friends at the shelter, in one way or another, have met an owner who will take them home with them. All of them, except her, who was perhaps the one who wanted it the most.

She had approached some people, but they either rejected her or approached someone else, which only increased her discouragement. People tended to look for hybrids of domestic animals, like dogs and cats, at most a bunny, but a fox hybrid, like her? Too exotic for most people's tastes.

Hyein lets out a whine, her slightly fluffy tail curling up. It has no point, no one wants to adopt her. Is it time to give up and throw in the towel? But then Hyein lifts her head, sniffing. There are many different smells; she still can't be discouraged to think that no one will adopt her, if there are still so many people.

That makes her regain some of her courage.

She has a goal, and she is going to accomplish it. Even if it takes a little while, it's worth it.

So Hyein agilely climbs up some stands (Hyein has always liked toys that stimulate her agility, so she has no problem with this type of thing) located as a rest area, strategically positioning herself at the highest part, because from the height she has a better view of the site.

She observes carefully, easily distinguishing the hybrids from the humans, focusing on the individuals of the second group that are seen alone. There are a few. There are still possibilities.

She decisively stands up, although given the sudden change in pressure she has to stay still for a few seconds, before recomposing herself and starting to go down. As she descends, her mind works overtime in an attempt to make a plan on how to achieve the goal she has already set for herself. But how to act? what to say? She doesn't know that yet, but is in it. She just hopes she doesn't make a fool of herself.

And when her feet touch the ground she immediately sets off, walking through the crowd of people, with the idea of her “ideal owner” clearly outlined, which gains more and more strength.

“Excuse me, excuse me…” Hyein makes her way through the people, she alerts for any non-hybrid person who appears in her field of vision. In passing she spots Jake, one of the puppy hybrids jumping and playing around a young man, who looks at him as if he were the most beautiful and adorable thing in the world.

Hyein wants something like that, to be able to give all the love she has accumulated to someone special. But first, she had to find someone special and that's what she's in for.

Trying.

She still hasn't found a person who catches her attention to be her owner, but she sees Hanni, one of the hybrids she knows. They're not that close, but she likes her. And since she is older than her, maybe she can help.

And the best thing she can think of is to run in her direction.

“Hanni!” Hyein begins to shout her name, drawing the attention of the bunny hybrid, who turns to look at her with a surprised expression, as if she was not sure if Hyein was referring to her.

"Yeah?" she asks in a soft voice, in a very low and shy tone, as if she doesn't want to attract attention.

Hanni's little cotton tail wiggles restlessly, looking for you to come to her rescue.

“What's wrong, bun?” You arrive just in time! Hanni is nervous about Hyein's presence, not because she is a fox hybrid, a predator according to the food chain, but because she is taller and she was shouting her name.

And, Hanni gets nervous when people shout. Her floppy ears get all stiff, and she starts to get kind of fussy. And that means she will demand your attention for some good hugs.

"Who are you?" Hyein asks, tentatively sniffing around you. Oh, you smell good! What does it mean that you smell good?

Hanni knows why, as does Danielle, Minji and Haerin. But Hyein is still too young to know it, or understand it. Hyein is barely a fox cub, she still doesn't know anything about mates.

“I'm Hanni's owner,” You introduce yourself, holding out your hand so she can sniff you better. Hyein likes the way you smell! From her expression, it's like your smell is becoming familiar to her. Like something she knows, something she likes. Something that gives her a feeling of belonging.

“Hello,” She greets, her fox tail somewhat tense, due to her caution. A little shy, too, with a barely hinted smile.

You recognize those gestures of caution, of shyness, and how underneath it all, there are flashes of innocent hope. You saw it in Hanni, Haerin, and Hyein herself.

And that's because many of the shelter's hybrids share the same trauma: abuse and abandonment. Some came from the streets, others from abusive homes, a couple even came from circuses, where they were presented as freaks, and that not only had harmful consequences on a physical level, but also emotionally.

That is why many hybrids are scared, distrustful and even reserved, because they feared that they would be hurt again, so you understand that Hyein looks at you with some suspicion, distrusting your intentions, although there is also something in her gaze. That glimmer of hope, as if she expected something from you. For you to make a move.

You just don't know what kind of move.

"Hi, little one. What is your name…?" You ask with a smile, trying to be as welcoming as possible. You want her to trust you.

“Hyein”

“What a nice name, Hyein.”

...Okay, this small talk isn't working. Because Hyein's restless gaze continues to rest on you. Expecting.

And in a heartbeat...It just happens.

"I can go home with you?" She finally asks. Hyein likes you, even though she doesn't know you. Because she knows you scent. You're her mate, although she's too young to care about mates, and she doesn't understand that either.

But you are a protective figure, like an older sibling. Someone who will take care of her. A different type of mate. But just as important.

"You sure?" The awkward and indecisive smile on your lips gradually dissolves, giving way to a more radiant and broader one, reflecting how delighted you are to hear that.

Hyein nods. She smiles a little, and in an outburst both innocent and childish (she is one of the youngest hybrids, after all), she puts her arms around you and snuggles gently. It's funny to Hyein how holding you feels warm and nice, giving her a sense of security she's never experienced before.

“Hug...” Hyein whispers sweetly, clinging to you. "This is nice. Really"

“I can take you to meet your new friends, if you want” Hyein has already seen Hanni, but you want to introduce her to the rest of the hybrids who, to anyone's surprise, are your mates. Not just one, but all of them.

“Maybe they want to be my friends too, do you think that's the case?”

“I'm sure it will be, the girls are going to love you.”

You take Hyein's hand and guide her through the crowd, ready to take her to the rest of the group. For the first time, Hyein isn't walking these halls alone. And she never will be again.

Now you're here.

“I'm sure I'm going to love you very much,” Hyein says, subtly leaning against your side as she walks. Her ears brush against your arm, and you feel the urge to caress them gently.

Woah, they are soft, you think as you do it. They have a vague smell of dog shampoo, like Danielle also has. Surely dog hybrids and fox hybrids, since they are similar, have the same care and use the same personal hygiene products.

Hyein brings your hand to her lips, leaving a little kiss. You smile.

“Yeah, I also think we will love each other a lot. Like a pack, huh?”

Like a pack, yes.

Hanni. Danielle. Minji. Haerin. And little Hyein.

A pack by fate.

[wyntereyez]

Wool of bat and tongue of dog

Thanks to @jrob64 for the banner! It's perfect.

Here's the first part of my @cssns contribution. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but thanks to me being a terminal procrastinator combined with a very busy two weeks at work, my brain can't word very well at the moment.

Part One

The door to the Storybrooke Bat Rehabilitation Center was unlocked.

Emma immediately went on the alert. Mary Margaret had left over an hour ago, and she’d never have forgotten to lock the door behind her. After Walsh and the events of the previous month, Emma had taken to bringing her gun with her. She could see Mary Maragaret’s frown whenever she spotted it, but Emma refused to be alone without it. 

Not when she was a potential target for the supernatural.

And now, it looked like her fears were well-founded, because there was something inside the building that definitely wasn’t a bat. Emma had inched the door open, holding her breath so she could listen. She could hear something moving in the lobby, by the reception desk.

A deep, resonating growl that made a primal part of Emma want to scream and flee. Her grip tightened on the gun, and she started to raise it.

Then an annoyed chittering followed, which was interrupted by a yip of indignation. Supernatural, all right, but familiar.

Emma holstered the pistol and stepped inside.

A massive wolf was crouched next to the desk, eyes locked on the large fruit bat perched on the edge. The bat raised his head and made delighted squeaks, and the wolf offered a wag of the tail before turning her snarling muzzle back to the bat.

“No supernatural turf wars before I’ve had my coffee,” Emma grumbled. She picked Killian up and plopped him down atop the startled Ruby’s back, then headed towards the breakroom. Ruby padded along after, Killian clinging to her shoulders for dear life.

They both waited patiently as Emma brewed a pot of coffee. While she waited, she grabbed the fruit bowl from the fridge and offered it to Killian, who daintily grabbed a slice of banana and half a strawberry. Ruby’s tongue flicked out, snatching two melon cubes and getting saliva all over the fruit, making Killian shriek in indignation. Emma sighed. “Can we use human words now, please?”

The fruit bat clumsily pulled himself to Ruby’s side, then released his grip on her fur. If he’d been a normal crippled bat, Emma would have dove to rescue him. But the bat never hit the ground; instead, a leather-clad man crouched next to the massive wolf.

Ruby licked his face, smearing melon and saliva on his cheek. Killian sputtered, and she trotted off, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

“How’d you piss her off this time?” Emma asked as she added cream and sugar to her coffee.

“What makes you think I’m responsible, Swan?” Killian pouted as he straightened. His hook gleamed in the fluorescent light.

“You turned into something small, helpless, and cute to argue with her,” Emma pointed out. 

“Which wasn’t enough to prevent me from being angry with you,” Ruby said as she re-entered the break room on two legs.

Now that Emma was in on her secret, Ruby had taken to leaving spare clothes at the Belfry in case of unexpected transformations. She returned shortly in human form, wearing a red T-shirt and black leggings. Her feet were bare, toes caked with dirt from her run. She made a beeline for the coffee pot.

“You’re late tonight,” Ruby commented. “Did something happen?”

“I spent all day at the Town Hall.” Emma couldn’t hold back her groan. “You wouldn’t think it would be so difficult to select an interim mayor. They just need someone to hold the position until an election can be held.”

The mayor had been found dead of a heart attack in his office two days previous, throwing the city council into an uproar. It was a headache that Emma really didn’t need. Especially since there was one member of the council famous for disagreeing with everything, and he’d loudly shot down every candidate. Several of the city council members were friends of his, and tended to follow his lead, which led to deadlocked votes. “He’s going to drive me insane,” Emma sighed.

“Leroy?” Ruby hazarded.

“Yep. Had an argument for everything. By the time the meeting was called, the council still hadn’t chosen anyone, and I almost went to the Rabbit Hole instead of coming here.”

“Sounds worse than vampire politics,” Killian snorted. “Though I imagine there’s less blood.”

“You’d be surprised,” Emma slumped into a chair, her exhaustion finally getting to her. “So what were you two fighting about?” 

Killian and Ruby exchanged glances. “A deer,” they said in unison. 

Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose, already sorry she asked. This was going to add to her headache. “And why was this particular deer so important? We’re surrounded by woods, there are hundreds of them around.

“I was hunting it, of course. A vampire can’t live on strawberries alone. And deer’s blood can sustain me for more than a week.”

“You didn’t have to choose my prey!” Ruby’s voice had developed a snarl not unlike her wolf’s vocalizations. “I’d been stalking that deer for more than an hour!”

“It was the only deer I’d scented for miles,” Killian defended. “And unlike you, I need live prey.”

Emma tensed, suddenly reminded that she was dealing with two supernatural predators. She reminded herself she’d seen Killian in bat form with his face buried up to his eyes in fruit, and that she’d once half-carried a drunken Ruby home. They were predators, but they had softer sides. Hell, she’d known Ruby since high school.

Ruby scowled and turned the other chair backwards, so she could sit on it with her chin resting on the headrest. She continued to glare at Killian.

“This isn’t your usual night for hunting.” Killian usually chose the nights where no one stayed overnight to go out.

“True; but that storm that’s brewing is going to hang around for a few days. I don’t fancy hunting in the rain.”

“Same reason I was out,” Ruby nodded. “I needed to get a good run in before being cooped up the next few nights. And deer are one of my favorite meals.”

Emma abruptly burst out laughing. At Killian and Ruby’s matching looks of bewilderment, she explained, “Sorry, I just thought about how it must look, seeing Killian stalk a deer when he’s dressed like a pirate.”

“He hunts as a wolf,” Ruby growled. “Which makes him a trespasser on my territory.”

“You can turn into a wolf?!” Emma asked incredulously, then wondered why she was so shocked. She’d been dealing with the existence of the supernatural for nearly a month now; she should be used to this, right?

“Aye,” Killian said, “vampires can become any creature of the night. Though we’re far more impressive than weres.” 

Emma wondered what was considered a ‘creature of the night’, especially since she knew wolves were frequently active during the day. Could he become an opossum? A raccoon? Maybe a cricket?

Vampire crickets, now there was a thought.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Vampiric wolves look like how wolves were traditionally depicted: all snaggly teeth and glowing eyes. Werewolves, on the other hand, are perfect specimens of wolf: lithe and muscular, swift as the wind.”

“So… you’re like the goths and jocks of the wolf community?” Emma took a sip of her coffee to hide her amusement as she watched Ruby sputter indignantly. Killian simply smirked, flashing that chipped fang.

“Perhaps we should continue our tale, lass, before we end up at each other’s throats, aye?” Killian said softly, and Ruby calmed.

“Yeah.” Ruby shook her head as though to dispel the last vestiges of wolf. 

The change in tone put Emma on immediate alert. “What happened out there?”

“Something spooked the deer badly enough that it turned around and fled past us,” Killian said. 

Oh. That didn’t sound good. Emma set her coffee aside, suddenly too nauseous to finish it. “Did you investigate?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said. “We followed the deer’s path, and soon we could smell what had frightened it. It was…wrong. It made my hackles rise, and I was growling without even knowing at what. Killian and I crept forward, and that’s when we found it.”

“An altar,” they said in unison.

Ah. Emma doubted they meant the kind you’d find in a church. “Oh?” Her coffee was getting cold, she noted as she took a lingering sip.

“A witch’s ritual altar,” Killian clarified, staring at her intensely. 

“A witch? Of course they’re real, too,” Emma sighed. “How worried about this should we be?”

“I’m not sure yet. I need a better look at the altar and the sigils around it to get an idea of what sort of ritual was performed.”

“So you’re an expert in witches now?” Ruby arched a brow.

“No, but I can ask people who are, and for that, I need photos. We need to get back out there immediately and photograph the site.”

Neither would have had access to their phones’ cameras, of course. Ruby would have been a wolf, and while Killian could transform clothes along with his body, it only seemed to be the archaic black leather outfit he favored when he wasn’t pretending to be human. Objects like his phone or wallet didn’t survive the transformation.

“Swan, I’d like you to come along as well; I want to see how you react to the magic.”

When Walsh had tried to compel Emma, he’d discovered that she was immune to his vampiric powers. This intrigued Killian, because it was a very rare gift not found in pure humans. He was determined to figure out just what was in her bloodline.

Emma was less enthused about this. She didn’t have any interest in parents that had abandoned her as a baby. She only cared about David and his mother Ruth, who had taken her in when she was a feral street child and given her a home and love.

Plus, she really didn’t want to walk around the woods after dark. There might be ticks or something.

“Now? It’s almost midnight!” And the moon was only a crescent, meaning it would be dark as pitch outside.

“Aye, but there’s a storm rolling in. All the evidence will be washed away by morning. Likely by design,” Killian said.

Reluctantly, Emma grabbed her coat from the closet while Ruby went off to change back into a wolf. Despite the protection of a large wolf and a vampire, Emma felt a thrill of fear as they stepped away from The Belfry’s exterior lights and to the edge of the forest beyond.

Her flashlight did little to help.

“So… tell me about witches,” Emma said. “Just how dangerous are they?”

“Most witches are benign,” Killian corrected, surprising her. “Just women gifted with knowledge and a bit of magic. Many of them end up in positions where they can use their gifts to help others: doctors and nurses, veterinarians, financial advisors, that sort of thing. Some are hide amongst charlatans, using real magic and divination to tell futures or speak with the dead, though those are rare. Mostly, they just live among humans, leading normal - though perhaps luckier - lives.

“True practitioners of the black arts are rare. They’re hunted by their own kind, in much the same way I take care of out of control vampires. This one… the scent of her magic is rotten.”

“What can someone with that kind of magic do?”

Killian scratched his cheek with the tip of his hook as he thought. “They can create curses, give others ill luck, or even kill without touching their victim. We won’t know much more until my expert has had a look.”

There was silence for a while after that, as Emma tried to fit this into her already shaken worldview. Finally, she decided it was just too much for one night, and turned her thoughts to something else.

“Henry really enjoyed visiting your ship the other day. It’s all he’s been talking about ever since.” Henry’s class had taken a day to tour the ‘real’ pirate ship (which was, in fact, a very real pirate ship, captained by a very real pirate), and he’d come home asking for sailing lessons. Not possible so late into the season, but she’d promised him that if he was still interested next year, she’d look into it.

“He’s a fine lad,” Killian told her. “Smart, and curious about everything. I’d be delighted to teach him some sailing basics, if…”

If you give me a reason to stick around, Emma knew he was thinking. Because Emma knew it was more than the threat of a rogue vampire that kept Killian living as a bat in Storybrooke. And three nights ago, Killian had finally made his move to see if there could be anything between them.

“So, Swan, are you looking forward to tomorrow night?”

Ahead, Ruby slowed, canting back one ear. Emma thought at first something had put her on alert; then she realized her friend was eavesdropping.

Right. Tomorrow. When she and Killian had dinner reservations for Bella Notte. Their first date.

She’d never been so nervous.

She wanted to date Killian. But her violent introduction to the world of vampires had left her cautious. Even Ruby’s reassurance that vampire society worked as Killian had described, with strict laws and enforcers that carried out ruthless punishments for lawbreakers, she’d still been wary.

Walsh had been terrifying, but he’d been newly-turned. Weak. Killian was centuries old and powerful.

He also squeaked at her petulantly if she gave him banana slices when he wanted strawberries.

The rumbles of thunder that had begun when night fell were growing louder, and Emma was beginning to worry they wouldn’t make it to the altar in time. But after forty-five minutes of what felt to Emma like random stumbling around in the dark, Ruby let out a sharp bark.

“We’re here,” Killian said unnecessarily. Because Emma could feel the change in the air, something that made her hair stand on end. 

“The hell?” she asked.

“So you do feel it,” Killian sounded as if she’d just confirmed something for him.

How could anyone not feel that? It was a miasma that pressed against her, threatening to smother her.

She fought down the urge to claw at her skin, and forced herself to examine the altar.

If Emma had been walking through the woods alone, she never would have seen it - or at least not realized it wasn’t a natural formation. She ran the flashlight beam over a tree that had been split in half, probably by a lightning strike. One half had fallen to the side, the other was still attached to the stump, but bent at a ninety degree angle to form a natural table just over knee height.

The split trunk was spotted with dark stains. A fragment of bone was caught in a furrow in wood.

“I’ll hold the torch if you’ll take the photos,” Killian offered. Emma handed the flashlight over, and he directed her to photograph the altar, as well as the sigils she’d missed at first look. The were carved into the ground, or painted onto the trunks of surrounding trees with the same fluid that had stained the altar.

Killian was thorough. Emma wondered if he was like this with all investigations, because she could use someone like him in the Sheriff’s Department.

Thunder boomed, and Emma and Ruby jumped. “Storm’s almost here,” Killian observed. “We’d better leave now, before we’re caught out in it.”

They only just managed to make it back to The Belfry before the sky opened up. Emma was soaked through by the time she managed to unlock the door, and Ruby reeked of wet dog. Killian, she noted, managed to look ridiculously good even when wet.

The rain pounded away into the night, and Emma shivered. She hoped it would be enough to wash away the taint of evil in the forest.

~oOo~

The stranger stank of dark magic.

Emma had been in the back office of the sheriff’s station, taking care of paperwork, when David had called her up front.

Grateful to escape her papery hell, she’d hurried up front - only to be brought up short by the elegant woman in the immaculate business suit who was ignoring David’s attempts to be friendly. Emma, however, immediately drew her interest.

Dark eyes ran up and down Emma, and perfect lips turned down into a frown, as if she’d found Emma lacking. “Can I help you?” she asked stiffly.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Regina Mills,” the woman said haughtily. “I’m the new mayor of Storybrooke.”

~tbc~

[nothorses]

With the whole voting shit going on, I've felt incredibly conflicted about voting. But recently, the opinion I've landed on is similar to Kelly Hayes. I am roughly paraphrasing here, but she said that it's incredibly insensitive to ask Arab Americans and Palestinians, people who have outright LOST their family members due to the US's unrestricted military aid to israel and the genocide, to vote. That makes sense to me. I absolutely agree with that, and I don't think it makes sense to yell at these people to vote. BUT, Kelly then goes on to say that the argument that if you're voting, you're got blood on your hands, is just wrong. Because living in America, benefiting from the imperialistic violence, we always had blood on our hands, and no one's breaking solidarity with marginalized folks simply by voting. You break solidarity when you justify your politicians' horrible actions, such as police brutality, prison industrial complex, etc. But in this case, when someone acknowledges these politicans aren't gonna get the real important shit done, only direct action works, and you're voting to choose your opponent--I don't think that's breaking solidarity. Or throwing people under the bus. The truth is even if every leftist didn't engage with electoral politics at all, and spent it on mutual aid, community defense, these things--there would still be a president until we somehow destroy settler nation America. And that president will destroy public infrastructure and attack marginalized folks a lot quicker if he isn't a democrat, because the Republicans are literally just--fascist party.

I dislike people whose only engagement with politics is to vote shame. But I also think it's just a wrong take to act like people who vote, who aren't vote shaming, who do think it's harm reduction, are all idiotic liberals. As we try to mobilize against imperialism, it's crucial to try to pick our enemies when we can. I understand the fact our wealth, the fact we have these healthcare systems, this public ifnrastructure and government assistance even if it's nowhere near enough--it comes from blood of the Global South. And there is a real problem with liberals who care about these elections only to maintain their quality of life, don't care about imperialism and global oppression at all. These people exist, and if we do start dismantling imperialism ina meaningful fashion, USA quality of life will drop. But people voting Democrat because they don't want the Affordable Care Act dismantled, want to keep their food stamps, their schools funded--they're not inherently selfish and breaking solidarity with third world folks. There's nuance here, a lot of nuance. Which is why I like Kelly saying we can't let electoralism destroy our relationships., because we are going to need to build, build, build if we are going to survive. I'm going to vote because ultimately it won't take me much time, but I also won't judge the people who refuse to, choosing to invest their efforts in direct action.

I also think the people who say voting doesn't do anything...they also ignore the nuance. I get it. I get the frustration. But as I read various perspectives, I'm starting to realize the treachery of black-and-white thing. Before there's a revolution, it's more likely we are going to build new things out of the old system, incrementalism, before we make any foundational leap. Again, this shit has nuance.

Yeah, I think this resonates a lot for me. And I'm not really here to "vote shame" either! I think I do have a similar opinion on it to FD Signifier, though, who says he thinks of voting like washing your hands.

You can choose not to, it's not the end of the world. But like. Why? Who is this helping? I mean maybe it's not my business, maybe you have a good reason, whatever. It's just one of those things that, y'know, especially if it takes you 5 minutes to mail a ballot in... it's just good hygiene.

And I think a lot of people say, "put your energy towards these other things instead!" without any intent to actually do so, and without any follow through themselves. And do you really need to not vote in order to do those things? Like is voting the thing preventing you from Doing The Revolution? For real?

At the end of the day, I'm not going to shame anyone for not voting. I talk about it because I think some people are misguided about how all this works, and I think some of the opinions people put out there just, like, suck. But it's ultimately not up to me. 🤷‍♂️

[tmntxthings]

∑一 Gasoline・゜・。

author’s note: so I started this months ago and came back today and somehow finished it? it’s now 4 am and idk what I’ve written but we posting it babyyyyyyy

song: reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine, ben kessler

warnings: cursing, narcissism, over-dramatics, cringe, sarcasm, flirting, confessions, unedited

—————————————————————————

Okay, I’ll admit. I’m not the best when it comes to..following the rules? Heeding caution? Listening to anyone??? Yeah not the greatest in that department.

But! I’m practically flying high in all others. Better brother, better turtle, cooler weapon, and not to mention handsome as fuuuck. So handsome in fact, I know I’ve snagged your attention. Heh. Call it what you will, intuition or gut-feeling, I know I’ve been occupying your mind.

But the thing is, you won’t admit it. No matter how much I prod, tease, or blatantly ask. It’s always “Leo, no.” “Leo, stop!” “Leo, shut up!!” And never “Yes, I think about you endlessly Leo, you’re right, and super handsome, be my one and only turtle”

…

Yeah…

It’s never ever that. And maybe that’s the reason why I can’t let this go. Because I know I’m right. If I wasn’t why would you keep coming around? Why would you spare glances my way? Why would you wear blue? It was all so infuriating to see these little details only to be denied again and again.

Raph says I’m getting a little obsessed. Donnie doesn’t give two fucks. And Mikey says something even worse, that I’m in love. Barf. Gross. Me? Love? Hell no. I collect admirers. I flirt with everyone. Unabashedly. Why would I fall in love with someone who is so clearly in denial that they are in love with me??? All I’m doing is getting them to admit the truth, and then they’ll be another tally mark. Another addition to the ever growing list of admirers I have.

It comes with the title of being the Face Man and all of that. Perks of being me I guess!

And so I was up to my usual antics.

“Keys Y/n, keys babe!” You scoffed pushing my hands away. “Keep your grabby mitts away, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive.”

“I curbed one time Y/n. Once! Give a turtle some slack here!!” I’m practically begging at this point. Because I have a plan. A genius plan to get you to finally admit the truth. It’s going to be epic.

“I think you’re also forgetting the three times you purposely ran into trash cans. You almost backed into another vehicle. And don’t get me started on how many times you accidentally forgot the keys in the car!”

…Okay so maybe there are a few more reasons as to why I shouldn’t be driving. But no matter! I’m a master manipulator. I can sway those around me like a pro. Plus since ya have feelings for me, I’m sure you actually really do just wanna hand over those keys. You’re just like playing a little hard to get is all.

“Whaaaa?? Are you sure that wasn’t Angelo? Pretty sure that was totally him and not me.” A big cheesy smile lights up my face trying to turn that frown of yours upside down. “Plus in any case I’ve got super rad portal powers to snab the forgotten keys!”

“Leo. No.”

And the actual begging and groaning and bemoaning ensues. I don’t throw temper tantrums that often. Only when necessary. After many ‘pleases’ and promises to drive extra careful. I finally get my long awaited—

“Leo, I said noooooooooo!”

A hard flick resonates against the space right above the middle of my eyes. Dramatically I flinch backwards crying out in faux pain. My hands going up, one covering the space that has just been so grievously wounded. “Oh c’mon that didn’t hurt…”

“Did it?”

Peeking through my three fingers I see the wisps of concern on your features and it’s at this moment where my all-of-the-sudden-plan enacts. As you draw closer out of worry it’s just too easy to create a small portal with my other hand that is behind my back. Don’t ask how the dagger got in my palm. Sometimes being a ninja just has its perks.

And just like that the keys to your car are securely in my hand and I bolt before you can realize you’ve been…hand-pocketed? Pick-pocketed? Whatever the case!

As I gloat from the driver’s side window, with the locks safely on so you couldn’t just rip open the door and strangle me like you were threatening to do right now. I make a show of raising the volume in your car and celebrating more with a little dance in the drivers seat. It’s not until you shake your head and the flames extinguish from your eyes do I dare to unlock the passenger door for you to get in.

You do slam the door close though. “Dramatic much?”

I can’t help but tease. I love winning. I love rubbing it in everyone’s face. And it makes my bones sing to see you get so riled up all over little ol’ me. You glower, somehow holding your tongue, perhaps giving me the silent treatment as you take over the music.

Driver gets veto power though. So I skip a bunch of songs you choose until I feel the flames start to rise again and I worry we (or rather I) may never even make it out of your driveway before I turn into roasted turtle. And that can’t be tasty.

So I let this particular song play. Humming along since I don’t know the words as I start to pull out and drive on the road. You stay silent for the most part and that just won’t do so I may or may not get a little too close to a curb for comfort on your side of the vehicle.

“God damnit Leo if you curb!!” You hiss as you clutch the handle on the car door. “Whoopsie!” I laugh getting back to the middle of the lane easily enough. “Where did you want to go so badly anyways?” You grump. But at least you’re talking now! “It’s a surprise!” I sing-song.

Now initially, my plan to force your admission of feelings was to continue to drive really recklessly and maybe almost die in a car crash or something like in the movies. And while you think I’m about to die you just have to tell me that you are helplessly in love and like magic. Confession secured.

But now thinking about it more seriously there are plenty of unknown factors like, what if I do actually kill myself in the process. Or ya know, you get hurt? Or I just wreck the car and we both are totally fine?! I don’t see myself surviving much longer after that if that ends up being the case. So I have nothing. Zilch. Nada. No back up plan was really made.

So I just drive.

And as previously mentioned, I’m not the best driver…

So you are on edge the entire time and constantly telling me to “Watch out!” “Don’t curb!” “Don’t hit that dude crossing the street!” “Red means stop!” “Yellow means slooow!”

Thankfully I know what green means. Aka turtle. Aka go ninja go ninja go. I’m proud of that one. Anywho, the drive winds up and down the backstreets of New York until even I don’t know where the fuck we are.

I pull over, parallel parking. Miraculously it’s one of the few tricks I can do with a car and you breath out a very unnecessary sigh of relief. “So this is the surprise?” You are looking around the low rise buildings with slight curiosity but more confusion than anything.

Nothing here is really special. No shops. No bright sparkly lights. It’s actually pretty grim because a few of the streetlights are out making the dark night even darker. It’s probably the least romantic place in the world. Definitely holds no sentimental value for an awe-inspiring confession.

My head hits the steering wheel as I close my eyes and say “Yup!” As bright and false as possible. I feel like a jerk and even worse than that a failure. I’m greeted with silence and I don’t open my eyes to check your face. I’m sure it’s turning into disappointment right now.

“Leo, everything okay?”

My head turns slightly, if only because your voice sounds a little different. I mean you usually are quite serious, but it’s also one filled with… care? “Just thinking.” And that is not a lie, just a very vague statement.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I mull it over. What am I even thinking? Driving around in the middle of the night. Being chaotic. Being a nuisance. Being with you. Dragging you along. Trying to get you to say something you’ll never say in a million years. And turtles sadly don’t live that long.

“Y/n, do you like me?”

I don’t dare take my eyes off of you now. Truthfully I feel like spewing out nonsense to cover up my mistake. I just had to open my big fat mouth. To actually say shit I actually mean. Or in this case something I really want to know. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, and you tilt your head as if you hadn’t even considered that a possibility. Liking me.

I’m instantly filling up the silence. “Like better than Mikey right? Pretty sure I don’t have to sweat over Donnie. And Raph may be second place but I’m definitely number one right?”

This way it’s easy. This way it’s safe. This way no one gets hurt. This way I don’t get hurt. This way I can play it off.

“I do like you.”

My thoughts empty and I straighten up. Swallowing back the spit that’s suddenly filling up my entire mouth. “Right duh, of course you do. Everyone does!” I laugh, smiling big as if nothing you just said affected me. Like I totally won’t be thinking about this even later tonight back at the lair. Overthinking it. Surely you meant it as a friend… but a turtle can hope?

“Even though you are so annoying.” You tack on, but your smile is too much. It’s genuine. It’s not plastered on like mine. It doesn’t hide anything.

Oh shit.

I just continue on, blabbering complete and utter nonsense at this point. Because part of me can’t believe it. That you really said it. That you do like me. That this surely isn’t possible, that you’re about to laugh and say that this was all some funny joke.

“Do you like me?”

And where there was nonstop chatter, it turns to silence. I avoid your stare now. In fact I turn my whole face away because I can feel my red marks heating up. Which is never a good sign. Blushing will only end in embarrassment. More than I can handle.

“Whaaaat? Me? Like you?”

I leave it open ended. To be inferred that I couldn’t possibly. But I think I just continue shooting or maybe slicing myself in the foot. Over and over and over again. Because in the window I can see you’re still looking my way. And your lips are pursed together in a small know-it-all smile. I whip my head back around, forgetting all about the embarrassing heat that covers my face.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

And then you lean forward.

Time slows.

And I feel your lips on mine.

And my eyes are so wide. I don’t know what to do but just stare. I don’t move. I don’t breath. Your eyes are closed and your lips are soft if only a little chapped. You pull away slightly, and I can feel your breath fan over my face.

“Good.” Is all you say. And I nod like a dumb pile of rocks is all I have for brains. “Now how about I drive?” Again I’m nodding.

The only thing that breaks the trance is the warning beep from your display signaling that I’ve just wasted all of the gas left in your tank.

…

Whoops!

—————————————————————————

[skyfallscotland]

Hi! I hope you’re feeling better. 💜

When I’ve heard writers talk about their process, some outline a character before they start writing and outline everything- the charcater’s history, personality, etc. While other writers say the character “talks” to them as they write and they don’t plot a lot out before hand. I’m curious- how much of Remi’s personality did you determine before you started writing? For example, did you know she was wonderfully snarky before you started writing? Did you always know she struggled with depression?

I know you’ve written other OC’s too. Has your process changed since writing Tessa and co?

Hi!

I...am incapable of lying lol. I'm not really, but I appreciate the sentiment 💗 Not looking for sympathy, just keeping it real 💀 The depression be doing some depressing. But hey, *sobs as I smash at my keyboard* it makes for great content!

I don’t hear it. I can’t hear anything but the pounding of my own heart and one memory on repeat. You can love someone and hate them a little at the same time. My mind is stuck on that. I know he loves me, but—he hates me, he hates me, he hates me—I fucked things up.

I never outline an entire character before I start writing. I have an idea in my head, but not a whole profile. I don't even name them until I'm part way through a story, they're "Name" usually until like chapter five-ish and then I hate their names until like chapter ten.

The case of Remi is a little different, honestly I've kind of done things backwards. When I created Tessa I had an idea of what her personality would be, based on what she'd been through living in Illyria and there were small parts of myself I incorporated into her, like her struggle with social settings and relationships. With Stella I was more just having fun, but keeping in mind the (broad overview) history I had planned for her. They do kind of just write themselves, if I'm honest. It's why I like to write ahead, because I only ever have a broad plan in mind.

I don't know that I ever really planned to publish BRV outside of like a little wattpad adventure. It was entirely self-indulgent. I tried very hard with Tessa and Stella to have them be...measured? I guess you'd say. To not pour too much of myself into them.

Remi was cathartic. There's so much of me in her. She was my 'whatever, it's not serious' character and story. I just threw whatever I wanted at the page without worrying about whether things were realistic or too self-indulgent and I guess that worked for a lot of people.

I knew she'd be snarky and a realist and that she wouldn't be as settled as Violet with her chronic illness. I knew she'd be depressed and quick to anger because that's me and my experience and it was a therapeutic process pouring all that out onto the page. So I guess I didn't really need to determine anything, I just wrote from the heart. She's almost self-insert. It's made it really comforting that people relate to her so well, because it feels like they relate to me, when no one else does outside of the internet.

It's funny because I'm trying (and never making time) to plot out the original novel I plan on writing and there's this voice in my head like saying I have to be measured and I have to plot out these characters first and their whole histories and personalities because it's a Serious Thing, but then I'm reminded that the character I wrote who resonated the most with people was just me throwing my unhinged feelings into the void, so???

Also, I had intended my first original fantasy novel (featuring a chronically ill fmc and dragons) to have two main characters—Remi and Caden. Then Fourth Wing came out and I screeched in fury. I used the name for BRV anyway, but... 🙃

And the MMC for my sports romance is named Liam and I wanted to give the FMC a nice tough girl name like Sloane 😭 but I guess the universe said fuck you, again, so that's a nope, so if anyone has suggestions here I am.

[tigreblvnc]

BLUE LOCK MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @soleilonthesun

Your match is...

— Yukimiya Kenyu

✦ Yes, you can steal Yukimiya.

✦ My dear dumb bunny…

✦ The answer was as clear as day when I read through your info.

✦ (Actually, there was someone else first, but Yukimiya quickly made it obvious who was the right match.)

✦ Who's more perfect for you than our national glasses-wearing model?

✦ No one.

✦ It all really came down to how you described what you dislike in others. That ruled out a lot of people from Blue Lock.

✦ Specifically: "I also don't like toxic, arrogant people or people who are disrespectful to me. I can also say that I don't like people who emotionally manipulate others. Irresponsible, unfriendly, and also insult a lot." Okay, let's just eliminate a few characters right there, Suo, yeah?

✦ I think IRL, Yukimiya is probably ideal for you. He's reliable, responsible, intelligent, knows when to speak up or stay quiet, has nerves of steel, and just the right amount of arrogance to unnerve his opponents. In short, he's a very balanced character.

✦ I believe those who truly know they're good don't need to announce it. That's why Yukimiya is both one of the most discreet and one of the most talented characters on the roster.

✦ He has what it takes to bring a balanced relationship to you. I think your highly creative, scattered, and idealistic nature is a great match for his more measured, thoughtful, and strategic side.

✦ Anyway, I'm convinced a couple should complement each other, not be made of two overly similar people.

✦ "I'm that person who doesn't give up on her dreams even if I break her leg." That's a philosophy Yukimiya would resonate with, in my opinion. In his case, it's his vision, which is his main concern in his pursuit to be world number one. But both of you are die-hard pursuers of your passions, relentless even when life throws what seem like insurmountable obstacles at you. It's a big strength you share.

✦ "I can also be a person who stays at home." I tend to think Yukimiya goes out for obligations and social conventions but is introspective at heart. He likes and needs his moments of peace, of solitude. He understands well the desire to stay in.

✦ In the end, it's funny because you're both complementary but also share common traits, like the frustration you feel if you can't do something exactly the way you want.

✦ "His type is someone who laughs a lot and will always watch over him." I can see you excelling at that. Making him laugh, even when you weren't necessarily joking to start with. Your somewhat hyper, imaginative, and talkative nature brings him regular smiles. I don't see him being the type to constantly ask about your life or to get to know you because he understands that you talk enough that he learns everything without needing to ask. Let's be clear: with other people, that might annoy him. But not with you. In fact, it amuses him.

✦ "He feels happy when someone cheers for him warmly." Dumb bunny, best cheerleader of the year :) I see you attending all his games, even his training sessions, bringing a cool towel or water to refresh him.

✦ "I really like responsible people, with a good personality and education." Yes. That's Yukimiya in a nutshell.

✦ "I also listen to musicals like Phantom of the Opera or Hamilton." I think his tastes are both accessible and refined. With a bit of persuasion, you could easily bring him to musicals or similar events.

✦ "Movies from the 50s, 90s, and 2000s, even 2010s." Same here. Culturally, I don't see him liking just anything but being well-versed in the classics and enjoying watching old black-and-white films. It's kind of his guilty pleasure in the evenings, and he's happy to have found someone who shares this somewhat niche passion.

✦ "His favorite subjects are science, Japanese literature, and PE." I mention this because I know you love to read. To me, Yukimiya is more about documentaries and history, interested in major events and famous figures. From what I've seen of you talking about history, the two of you could have very long conversations. I'm convinced his knowledge of popular culture is extensive. We even know he speaks and understands German, so his knowledge is definitely broad.

✦ "I'm supposed to have the language of communication, assertive words (and that's true) but I also like to touch and hug the people I love with all my heart, or give them thoughtful and detailed gifts for them. I think we all have the language of love. [AND COMMUNICATION TOO] — it's important, and with that I fulfill two more languages like: spending time with my loved ones and helping them if they need help."

✦ I believe the love language that resonates most with Yukimiya is words of affirmation. It's the validation of his quality as a forward on the field. That his disability won't be what stops him from reaching his goal. On his part, I think he'd be good with physical contact. There's always some kind of distance between Yukimiya and others; for the person who matters, I believe he invests himself seriously and long-term. This shows up a lot in affectionate gestures, like holding hands in public or naturally embracing you.

✦ He likes spring, blossoms, ephemeral things. In fact, he loves the beauty of things that don't last, and I can easily picture him watching a landscape while you're busy drawing. The Tsuruoka Spring Festival is a must for you two. It's one of your favorite annual outings.

✦ I glanced at the moodboard you sent me for your appearance. Artist and model couple, basically. And it's funny because you never show what you look like, even with Picrews or artistic representations. There's maybe a part of you that's afraid to show yourself or wants to stay private. I even detect a tendency to go all-in but also a desire to hold back because there's a sense of discomfort somewhere. In other words: there's a fear of commitment.

✦ I'm explaining through the following lines because it all makes sense.

✦ No one has ever sent me their full natal chart before, so I'm taking this chance to highlight details that stood out.

✦ Leo stellium. That's the first thing. A stellium means having more than three planets in the same house: for you, that's the Sun, Lilith, Mercury, and Saturn in your Leo house. These four planets together suggest a solar personality capable of attracting others around you. There's a definite need to be seen and recognized, along with pressure to live up to expectations. There's also a desire to stand out, which shows in your more unique interests.

✦ Neptune and Mars conflict. Mars in Taurus seeks stability and pragmatism, which can clash with your Neptune in Aquarius, tied to idealism and dreams of innovation. This combination has probably led you to escape reality through procrastination many times, with Neptune dulling Mars with its dreams and idealism. Neptune manifests in your life through art, giving form to your ideals and daydreams. Mars brings rationality to your journey, pushing you to advance step by step with caution rather than making a drastic change in pursuit of a dream that's overly embellished.

✦ These two aspects reflect the issue of commitment: "I want to, but at the same time, I don't." It's about finding balance, and that's why these details in your chart seem important to note—they probably represent challenges you experience daily, and after speaking with you at length, I can confirm these hypotheses of ambivalence.

✦ The good news is that Yukimiya is the stable pillar in your life :) It's easier to move forward with a reliable anchor than to wander aimlessly. Yukimiya has a dream, but he's not passive. That's what inspires you and helps you achieve your own goals.

A word about your match: I first thought of Isagi because he's the epitome of a balanced guy who respects everyone. But something was missing. The doubt didn't last, though. Yukimiya quickly took the upper hand in this matchup. Favorite character or not, the truth always wins.

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | INTERESTED IN A MATCHUP EXCHANGE? CHECK THIS.

[schizosupport]

I don't really have a diagnosis for a lot of this stuff but I think my experience might be relevant so I'd like to share. Especially since I've never had words for my experiences around sense of self so I'm hoping this might resonate

It's like there is a me, clearly there has to be because I observe the world and interact with it and stuff but like. There is no internal consistency to the me that I am. Like I have different ways of being and moving through the world and they are all me and they are all a performance and all of it is performance and none of it is. Like I interact with the world and other people differently but also internally I feel completely different. But I'm always me. But there's not any sort of true, real me, just a collection of facades and modes of existing and attempts at being a person.

Also like time and memory are weird for me. Like my past didn't happen and also it's currently happening. I'm right here right now and also in my grandmother's garden how it was when I was little and also dissociating. And then someone will ask me what I'm experiencing and I won't know how to tell them that memory is a closed loop and I am trapped to forever repeat memory and states of self and ways of being.

And then on top of that theres the trauma of being a mentally ill person who's never truly allowed to know themselves. There is no fact of my existence, no matter how deeply I hold onto it or know it to be true, that is safe from a therapist or doctor or other authority figure coming in and telling me I'm wrong. Like for example having therapists deny a physical health diagnosis I've had my entire life, which meant that while I was around that therapist I was not allowed to acknowledge something I consider a basic fact about who I am. And with my history I usually don't remember I can just think what they're saying is wrong, I contort myself into being whatever it is they told me I should be so that I can hold onto as much of my freedom as I can

And so gender exploration for me has been fraught. Fundamentally I fall back on do I want this/not want this when it comes to making decisions. But I'm constantly worried if the me that comes after the me I am now is going to be okay with these things. And on top of that I'm scared to be open about myself in case it gets challenged, because the moment it gets challenged I have to rethink and attempt to reunderstand my entire life and every experience that I've ever had. Which is not an easy thing to do, to finally think I've come to an understanding of myself only to have to throw it all away and start over from scratch because someone decided I was wrong. Or even just the fact that how I feel about presentation and the gender people interpret me as change based on how I am at any given moment.

But also having taken some steps into transitioning, I am really happy about it. It makes me feel good and that's honestly what I care about at the end of the day. My loved ones are thankfully supportive, which also helps a ton. If nothing else it makes me feel like my body belongs to me, which is something that's very important to me

I relate to a lot of this. I'm also taking baby steps into transition myself, and it's hard to "stand by myself" when I can't even begin to answer what that even means. But it also feels good to do it, even though "myself" is this big unknown that I'm still trying and failing to discover.

I sometimes feel like I only ever know who I am in a social context, because the "me" then is a result of who I think the other person needs and wants me to be. For me this means that the notion of "they bring out the best in me" is very literal. I try to surround myself with people who shape me into a person that I like to be. And I tell myself that ultimately the question is "who do I want to be", not "who am I?". So I don't know if the quirky daughter that my dad knows is any less "real" than the messy queer dude that my fiance loves, but I know that I am more happy when I'm the messy queer dude. And ofc there's way more to any persona than just gender. But yeah.

And for me, getting to know people who make me into a version of myself that sparks joy, is my way of "finding myself". Maybe it's who I am, but it's easier for me to think of it as who I like to be.

Also yeah, time and memory is odd, and I try to be careful not to think too hard about it :p

Thank you for sharing your experiences 💜

[barbex]

happy friday! :D for DADWC and a pairing of your choice, ❝ if people can hate for no reason, than i can love for no reason too. ❞ from the emotionally charged sentence starters?

Thank you for this prompt! Happy @dadrunkwriting, have another fenders fic!

I'm combining this prompt with one I got from outside of tumblr from @the-goat-bazaar-of-art: jazzy lounge singer Anders.

I apologize to singers of any kind, I know nothing.

---

It was Varric's idea, of course. A great party for Hawke's birthday. At the Blooming Rose, of all places. And then someone must have told Varric that Anders can sing. At least he could, once upon a time. It's been ages since he performed. In the last few years, only the mice in the walls of the clinic hear him sing, in the morning, before he opens the clinic.

So now he's in the dressing room behind the stage, under the combined glare of Jethann and Madam Lusine, clutching his coat to his chest. "I always wear this coat." 

"Yes," Jethann says. "That is obvious."

"It's..." It's his coat, his armor, the only thing he kept from the wardens. "It's a good coat."

"Unacceptable." Madam Lusine frowns at the coat as if she wants to strangle it, just in case it decides to come alive. "This house has a reputation to uphold."

Anders can think of several things to say about the reputation of a mid range brothel but he stops himself. The Rose is a good house, probably the best in Kirkwall, and the usual performances here have a certain class. "Do you have anything here I could wear?"

"Not with trousers," Jethann says as he slides his hand along a rack of colourful dresses. "They're not much in demand."

Something like defiance makes Anders straighten his back and cock his hip. "I can wear a dress, no problem. It's not so different from wearing a robe."

Jethann's eyes light up. "Oh, darling." He looks Anders up and down. "Darling, when I'm done with you, you will rock that dress."

--

The Blooming Rose feels surprisingly nice tonight. Tasteful decorations, a table laden with food, and a capable band playing in the background — it's better than Fenris expected. And since it's a private party with Hawke's friends and acquaintances, nobody has taken him or Merrill for servants or pinched their ears so far. It looks like a promising evening. 

Fenris settles down on a couch with his wine. A good tevinter red, he should thank Varric for getting it for him. For a while he watches Hawke circle the room, how he throws a massive arm around any shoulder, making everyone feel welcome. Even some of the higher nobles, who obviously feel out of place among the merchants and traders from Lowtown, suddenly engage in lively conversations. It's a gift, almost like magic, how Hawke manages that. 

The music is pleasant, some string instrument being plucked and a piano filling the air with gentle sounds. He leans back, lazily watching Merrill trying every food at the buffet, chatting with a merchant woman the whole time. He keeps an eye on her, just to make sure that no one takes advantage of her. Hawke would be furious if anyone mistreated Merrill.

But as his gaze wanders again, he notes that the mage is missing. Sitting up to get a better view, he scans the whole room. He's certain that Anders came with them, he remembers how tired he looked and how Varric whispered something to him that made him smile. How he suddenly didn't look tired anymore. How the skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

--

Anders looks at his reflection in the mirror. In the last half hour, he had focused on warming up his voice and making sure that he still knew all the words to the songs, while Jethann fluttered all around him, did his hair, put something on his face, painted his eyes, and draped jewellery over his chest. Now, actually looking at himself, his mouth falls open. 

"I look amazing!" he finally says. 

"Yes, you do, darling," Jethann says, pride resonating in his voice. "Turn around."

Anders turns, straining his neck to look over his shoulder. The glittering dress is yellow, goes all the way down to his feet, and leaves his shoulders and his back bare. Jethann put a golden necklace on him, and draped it low over his shoulder blades. His scars are visible and for a second he thinks about covering them up. 

"I have a scarf you can drape over your shoulders." Jethann, perceptive as ever, holds a gossamer thin scarf in the same shade of yellow in his hand.

Anders looks at his back again. The scars are part of him, he won't hide them. "No, I like it better this way. 

"You look fabulous," Jethann says, handing him long gloves in the same colour. They go up over his elbows and complete the whole arrangement perfectly. "Fabulous." Jethann rises on his tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Now go out there, they're waiting for you."

Anders takes a deep breath and steps through the curtain. Someone lights several lanterns over the stage, making it harder to see the audience. He is grateful for that. He's nervous enough, he doesn't need to see people's faces. The man at the piano nods at him, and Anders steps over to him, resting his hand on the polished wood. Hopefully, nobody can see his knees shake under the dress. 

The man at the piano plays the first few keys, and then it's suddenly easy. Now he just has to sing.

--

It's a man on the stage. It's not a man dressed to look like a woman, it's a man, confidently wearing a glittering, long, yellow dress. And he sings. His voice is warm, soft like velvet, with an edge of roughness for emphasis. Fenris stares, enthralled. The man sings a song of dreams and hope and butterflies or something ridiculous like that, but the singer makes it sound like it is important. 

The songs ends, people applaud enthusiastically, and the singer turns around, grinning over his shoulder. And now Fenris recognizes him. That smile, the scars on his back, the way the dress contours his ass. The singer is Anders. His long hair is pinned in a loose bun, but a few strains come free as he moves across the stage, dancing around his face. 

It is Anders. And he looks stunning.

He starts the next song, a fast paced thing he animates people to dance to. He swings his hips as he struts across the stage, his voice broad and powerful. Soon, nearly everyone is on the dancefloor, performing an impromptu group dance under Anders' guidance.

Fenris doesn't get up. He can only stare.

That the mage is attractive is nothing new, and that Fenris may have looked at his ass more often than he looked at Isabela's is also nothing new. But seeing Anders like this, beautiful, confident, singing like he never did anything else — it does something new. He can't place the feelings in his chest, can't name them, but he has to dig his fingers into the seat cushions to stop himself from running up on that stage and drag that mage to the next nearest bed.

Anders sings a few more songs, ending with a sad ballad about lost love. He has his eyes closed as he sings, draped on a barstool, his voice nearly going brittle as he sings of saying goodbye to his love. It feels so real, it feels like a knife wound in Fenris' chest, and he can't stop himself. He gets up, moving through the couples on the dancefloor, until he reaches the stage, putting his hands on the raised platform. 

--

This is not a good song to end on, it's too sad, his voice gets too sad because it always reminds him of Karl. As the piano player plays the outro, he whispers another song title to him, a joyful song about love and freedom. Anders tells the bass player the name of the song as well, discreetly wiping off a tear that the last song caused. A little happy song will be good for all of them.

He turns back, letting the dress swing around his legs, and dances into the next song. It's a joy to sing and his solemn mood disappears. He twirls the dress again, letting his arms dance along — and then he nearly loses his balance, barely catching himself on the piano. 

Fenris stands right at the edge of the stage, staring at him. 

That he did not expect. 

Fenris, looking at him, not angry, but definitely interested. Hungry. Anders leans against the piano and throws his head back as he stretches out one leg on a high note. From the corner of his eye he sees Fenris' eyes widen. 

Definitely interested. 

He keeps watching Fenris as he sings of freedom, of warm embraces, dancing, and hot kisses. When the song ends, the applause wakes him from a strange daze and he nearly forgets to take his bows. 

Behind the stage, he leans against the wall, and waits for his heartbeat to slow down. What a strange situation. The sexiest elf of Thedas, who doesn't even like him, apparently loves his singing. He shakes his head. Better not make more of this than it is.

A door opens on the other side, letting in a triangle of light and Anders instantly recognizes the shadowy figure standing in the doorway. There's only one muscular, tall elf who stands like this, like a predator ready to attack.

"Hello, Fenris," Anders says carefully. "Did you like my singing?"

Fenris steps in, leaving the door ajar. "Yes. I did not know you could sing." 

"It's not an ability I use often." He pushes himself away from the wall, but Fenris is suddenly right in front of him, pushing him back. His eyes shine in the dim light and he steps closer, setting his leg between Anders' legs. His hand slides up Anders' gloved arm until he reaches his neck, drawing small patterns on his skin with his fingers. 

Anders shudders as heat rises up his neck. "Is this really what you want, Fenris? You have no reason to like me."

Fenris steps closer, his breath flowing over Anders' neck. "If people can hate for no reason, I can... not hate you for no reason." 

"Not hate?" Anders laughs. "Well, it's not perfect, but what is in life?" 

That seems to sober Fenris and he steps back. "I apologise if I have been too forward. I..."

"No, shut up." Taking him by the shoulders, Anders pulls him back. "Do you not hate me enough to kiss me?"

A mischievous grin grows on Fenris' face. "Would you like me to kiss you?"

"Yes, and more." Anders lets his gloved hands slide over Fenris' arms. "I have a room with a bed here." 

The predatory look is back in Fenris' eyes. Anders takes him by the hand and drags him out of the room and up the stairs. As he opens the door, he looks at Fenris. "Do you want the dress on or off?"

Fenris leans over his back and places a kiss between his shoulder blades. "The dress stays on."

Anders grins at him. "Lucky for us, I'm not wearing any underwear."

[magical-glimpse]

Hexing, evil eye and everything harms

So, I recently got hexed and talked about it, and I think this is a great time for me to talk about what hexes are and how to protect yourself from them, as a continuation of my two protection posts.

First, what is baneful magic ?

In the dictionary :

Baneful : Causing harm, ruin, or death; harmful. Portending harm; ominous. Having poisonous qualities; deadly; destructive; injurious; noxious; pernicious.

Usually, what people call baneful is actually super relative to culture, religions and individual practice. it can includes : hexes/curses/jinxes, love spells, domination spells, blood magic, binding, banishing etc. There is a lot of rhetoric from different people that try to keep people away from these spells. For example the rule of Three, which states that everything you put out comes back three times, is a Wiccan religious belief that is in no way applicable to all witches. Some people's views of "karma" or other "universal justice" ideas. I am personally of the opinion that, if your guide and your moral compass agree, there is nothing wrong with giving universal justice a little boost with a bit of a reasonably measured hex. But as a general thing, it should take place in an informed, cultivated practice and not just a "i'm mad at my ex so i'm gonna pick this random tiktok spell i saw and write his name on it". No. That is the best way to get yourself in trouble.

What is a hex ?

A hex is, at its core, someone sending negative or unwanted energy your way. We can commonly see a few types of hexes:

The Evil Eye, the most common, easiest one, that everyone probably got at one point in their life. At its core, the Evil Eye is about people wishing ill intent on you from seeing you succeed. As an example, I made eye contact with someone that was jealous of me while i was on stage and i almost tripped on a floor that had no reason to make me trip. It is usually considered to be easy solved by not showing your achievements you know are jealous, basic cleansing, throwing salt over your shoulder, using a talisman etc. I'm pretty sure most if every culture has a concept of evil eye so look into what you resonate with best (in the limits of what is open to you).

The Jinx: it's almost the cute version of an hex ? It's like causing a bit of a bad luck, like missing the bus, breaking your phone screen, missing an appointment etc. it tends to not last very long, a few hours or so.

The hex: it is both a general term and what people tend to do. It's the " can't keep one up with a new gf", "have constant bad breath", "flat tire", "might lose your job" one. it can wildly vary in intensity depending on your current protection, how close the target and practionner are and the nature of the spell. The Curse: This is when shit goes DOWN DOWN. Generational trauma typa shit, illnesses might pop up typa shit, divorce typa shit. To this day, I have never seen anyone being truly cursed. Usually the energy ends up being transformed into lessons for the descendants or the target after a while, and its goal it to point out specific toxic behaviors or issues rather than just cause chaos.

How to cast a hex ?

I am pretty sure i answered a ask about this once, my goal here is not exactly to give a recipe for all hexes but at least guidelines so you know how to start and where to look. Hexes, just like all spells, are about creating an energy and sending it. In this particular case, it is about creating "mud" and throwing it at someone. Here is the thing: you cannot throw mud without getting your hands dirty. How dirty your hands get depend on what you are throwing, if you are taking precautions and how much you are cleaning after. I know it gets told time and time again, but don't do a hex as your first spell if you dont have a good handle yet on protection and cleansing spells. The reason why they are recommended for beginners is because they are easy, don't typically explode in your face easily, and they are diverse, therefore allowing you to test out what you vibe with and don't. Also, they teach you necessary skills. Otherwise, it works as any other spell. If you do it with leeway for the universe (and you take precautions and cleanse) the cost for you will probably be energy, headache etc. If your goal is to specifically make a certain situation happen for someone, it will require a sacrifice on your part, that you may not have control over. I am currently being coached and taught about spellwork, so in a few months I might revisit this post and explain things differently and add more info.

How to know you have been hexed ?

If bad shit starts happening out of nowhere, it might be worth asking the question.

Here is a list of things I have experienced or have seen people experience from being hexed:

nightmares

sleep paralysis

bad luck

fire alarms going of at specific hours

people being unusually mean or intolerant to you

getting weird or scary visions (VISIONS, not hallucinations, if you are not intuitive this does not apply, if this is not already in your belief system this does not apply)

stuff falling, breaking, not working, getting lost etc

having difficulty reading, channeling

feeling blockages

getting sick, nauseous, getting a migraine, getting a crisis of an already existing illness

getting into arguments

protections and wards acting weird

pets acting weird

The thing is, any number of those things can happen for a hundred reasons that are not even remotely spiritual. If there is another possible explanation, check it first. I promise you it is a lot more likely than someone hexing you.

Okay, so now i know i got hexed what do i do ?

Congrats you got hexed.

Start by not panicking.

Even though it sounds scary, it is probably a lot easier to get rid of it than you think. You can start by checking my protection 101 and protection 102. Cleanse deeply yourself, your room and your spirit and add some protections. Once it is done, if you still feel negative energy around, you can try cleansing one more time, or it may mean your guides are inviting you to look into yourself and heal some parts of yourself that the hex brought out.

After you got hexed

This is the official point where you can start throwing hands with the person that sent you the spell. No, i'm kidding. Okay, maybe not. But yeah, it is a point where you restore your protections and can pat yourself on the back for succeeding at getting rid of an hex. Good job!

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

SPIDER-VERSE On The Brain

Massive SPIDER-VERSE *spoilers* are ahead... Do not read on if you haven't seen the movie...

It's been four days since I checked out SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE in theaters... And I'm still processing such a rich layer cake of a movie with all this stuff going on, just the sheer ambition of it... And... This story isn't even over, that's the mind-blowing part...

This movie did have pretty strong arcs for Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, and even Peter B. Parker to some extent, in addition to introducing a major conflict and a soon-to-be-primary antagonist in Miguel O'Hara/Spider-Man 2099... While a larger threat, The Spot, still looms, and there's even a closer to home threat for Miles himself as the picture wraps up...

There's so much more to go, assuming that BEYOND THE SPIDER-VERSE is also going to be a pretty long movie. That this movie was, in the planning stages, getting to be so big that they had to break it up into two parts? Who knows what we're in for...

I feel a lot of ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE's narrative brilliance is within its yet to be resolved conflict...

Canon...

Back in 2018, INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE came onto the scene with its dynamic new way of rendering CGI imagery in an animated feature, while throwing in eye-candy flourishes and other dynamic art styles to really make that movie pop amongst other mainstream animated movies *and* the entire comic book movie sphere. In a neat sense, this groundbreaking new way to make an animated feature strengthened the inclusive and quite simple overall message of the story: ANYONE can be Spider-Man.

Now, if INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE said "anyone can be Spider-Man", ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE asks what that "anyone" must go through to be Spider-Man.

Can Spider-Man truly be anyone?

What is "canon"?

Miguel is adamant that every Spider, from man to woman to animal to insect, must experience some major tragedy in order to truly be a Spider-Something. A loss of a family member, close friend, or any kind of loved one... That's that about that, that's the nature of the "Spider-Verse", it is set in stone, no other way! Seems to contradict "Anyone can be Spider-Man", right? Apparently Miles can't have a relatively normal non-costumed life, someone he loves HAS to be axed... And that's the case with... How many Spiders? Over 280?

... which quite frankly sounds very controlling and lacking in imagination. And kinda dumb on paper. Miles knows that, even... It all relates back to what his mother and father want for him vs. his ambitions and desires.

"Nah, imma do my own thing"...

Such a liberating line, during such a literally and figuratively heavy moment in the film...

Between Miles' arc and Gwen's story, this autistic queer right here felt something quite resonant from all of this... I needed to see and hear these classic story tropes pulled off in such a great new way at a crucial time in my life...

Now, this works even beyond one's personal journey and how a film relates to someone: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE seems cleverly critical of contemporary superhero movie culture and most nerd-dom, from its most toxic swamps to its most boring offices. Adherence to "canon", shackling oneself to hard-set rules that mustn't be deviated from. It's especially potent coming from a movie series where the main Spider-Man is a black/Puerto Rican teenager, and his pals include a trans Spider-Woman, an older adult Peter Parker who has a child, and many more.

The insistence that Spider-Man has to be this one thing, i.e. Miguel running a Spider-Society that makes sure all Spider-People have that very "Uncle Ben" tragedy happen to them, with NO ANOMALIES... Miles' whole existence as Spider-Man, of course, is revealed to be said anomaly... In that a spider from another universe, Earth-42, got to his, Earth-1610, and bit him... Messing everything up... He's even blamed for Earth-1610 Peter Parker's death, to add insult to injury!

Or DID he mess things up?

Maybe "canon" is a bunch of bullshit.

The very kind of thing that shackles whole characters and franchises down, instead of letting those who come to the sandbox play with the toys THEIR way. INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE came to CG animation and didn't do the Pixar style, didn't do what most other mainstream animated movies were doing, didn't follow the accepted "standard" or "canon"... A friend of mine, in his review of ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE, noted something very interesting: This also ties into how a lot of very online animation fans insist that every new movie now must be like SPIDER-VERSE. And like PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH. And like any other animated movie that they consider "top tier" or "based" or "cinema". Including a relatively-panned Mario movie. Screw off if you're Pixar making "mid" movies like TURNING RED and ELEMENTAL, or Disney Animation making equally "mid" movies like ENCANTO or RAYA AND THE LAST DRAGON... "Canon" in feature animation, apparently, is now movies that must be like SPIDER-VERSE or PUSS IN BOOTS or whatever. Animated movie "requirements". You have to have scary dark villains, you have to have the most amazing unseen animation style ever, you have to do it all THIS WAY...

This whole "canon" nonsense also ties into superhero movies in general, as well. Even comics, like a lot of runs of Spider-Man are apparently doing... especially in a time of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and the DC movie-verse being clamped down by such hard continuity... That has only morphed into a bigger cluster-cuss, post-SPIDER-VERSE.

I remember when watching the LOKI Disney+ series, thinking... This series is trying to explain in FIVE 40-MINUTE EPISODES something INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE effortlessly explained in less than 5 MINUTES... Then you bring in the Doctor Strange follow-ups, all this stuff about "incursions". Incursions this, Sacred Timelines that... Why is this so goddamn convoluted and wracked head-to-toe with all these RULES? Other multiverse stories don't do this, and Marvel's characters span DECADES... And a big criticism of the recent MCU output is that the continuity, the canon... Doesn't allow for the characters to have their own unique stories, told by filmmakers with individual unique visions working within reasonable guidelines. I feel these two movies, along with EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE, show what a multiverse story can still be in this day and age.

And by using Miguel's rule, ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE goes right for the jugular bearing its spider-fangs.

Anyone can be Spider-Man, Spider-Man can have ANY life.

May I also add? The Spot... He's not in the movie much, but his arc... Tying this back to the worst of toxic nerd culture. The Spot is shook by being called some villain of the week and everything else that happened to him (like getting conked by the very bagel from the first movie), and instead of using his weird abilities for something good, he's going to go great lengths to prove that he is not some villain of the week. To become a larger scale threat... And for what? To fill a literal hole in himself? What validity and happiness will this bring him? I see something similar in some aspects of nerd culture, where they take being wronged (I'll humorously compare this to being shoved into lockers, circa 1988) at some point in their life, and turning it into their literal villain origin story... Growing up to be the jocks that bullied them, growing up to be the ones making life harder for other people in the community... The very people complaining about how "w0ke" this movie is for having "forced diversity", the very people who also lob that stolen word at harmless things like the LITTLE MERMAID remake and virtually anything "W0ke Disney" puts out these days, the very people who had literal shit-fits over MAD MAX: FURY ROAD, every new STAR WARS movie, GHOSTBUSTERS 2016, SHE-RA AND THE PRINCESSES OF POWER, new MUPPET BABIES, any new STAR TREK media, the list goes on and on... That's The Spot. Funny how some superhero movies, even animated superhero movies, have these villains who feel like they've been wronged and feel like they're entitled to something...

Just more texture to this ludicrously-textured layer cake movie... Yeah, CAKE itself is a big part of the movie, too. Look at that-

All this, amidst a backdrop of hundreds of Spider-People, a surrealistic smorgasbord of visual styles and animation techniques (Spider-Punk alone, YOWZA YOWZA YOWZA!), a multiverse-spanning story, and at the end... All of it tying back to who Miles Morales wants to be. How he wants to tell HIS story... When he defies Miguel on the train, it's a monumental moment...

And the story isn't even over yet... This movie is something special.

[eriquin]

The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 14

Continuing the 4th session. Lucas is still missing. Mike and Dustin argue about physics.

(master post)

Part 14

They both rolled well, and Eddie wrote them each out a series of directions. They were confused at getting separate notes, and then more confused when the directions diverged. 

“Well, I am extremely confident in my sense of direction,” Mike said. “I’m leading the way there. To hell with Gaten.” 

Grant rolled a die and made his own internal call based on the results. “I’m following Joe,” he said. Jeff and Gareth agreed, so Dustin grumbled but stuck with them. 

Eddie cleared his throat. “You come into a clearing with a pile of rocks that look suspiciously like a giant’s head. Congratulations, Mike. You have led them to the rendezvous spot. Well done.”  

“Hah. In your face, Gaten. In your tiny little face.” Mike grinned. “So, is Quinn there?”

“Once he realizes that it’s you, Quinn comes out of hiding. He tells you about how he fled from the guards and witnessed one of them getting cursed, right over the middle of the lake. He is properly spooked about it.” 

Dustin wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was looking over the notes that Eddie had passed him with directions for finding Giant’s Head. “Wait a second,” he said. “The lake is near here, right?” 

“It is,” Eddie said. “Quinn points in the direction of the lake.”

“And that direction’s not north, right?” Dustin asked. 

Mike snorted. “Why don’t you use your compass?” he asked with a grin. 

Dustin stared at him. “The compass was broken.”

“Compasses don’t—” The smile vanished off of Mike’s face. He picked up Dustin’s note and looked concerned, then they both turned to Eddie. “Is the compass still pointing north?” Mike asked.

Dustin added his own thoughts. “Or is it pointing towards the lake?” 

Eddie’s jaw dropped, but he recovered quickly. He did not expect them to pick up on that trick so quickly. “It is pointing towards the lake. Well done.”

“Holy shit,” Dustin said. “Magnetic fields.” Both he and Mike looked spooked.

“Do you guys want to let us in on your thoughts here?” Grant asked. 

“We have to go to the lake,” Mike said. “That’s the last place that someone was cursed, right? The murder site might, like, resonate or something with the demonic realm and be throwing off his compass.” 

Gareth clucked his tongue. “It would be just like Eddie to sneak some science shit in for you little nerds,” he said. 

“Hey, fuck off, Gareth,” Eddie said. “You don’t have to be jealous just because they’re better at this game than you are.” 

Gareth scoffed, but it made Jeff and Grant laugh and diffused some of the tension in the room. Mike and Dustin were still being a little weird about it though. He walked the group through the woods, with Quinn going with them.

“What are we going to do if we run into any guards?” Jeff asked. “We should find someplace to stash him.”

“No, we should keep him close,” Dustin said. “We could use a backup bard in case Sadie gets cursed.”

“Besides, the guards aren’t the ones searching the woods,” Grant said. “The rangers are. That’s their jurisdiction, right Eddie?” 

“Correct,” Eddie said. “Do you have some kind of plan in place?”

Grant nodded. “If we run into rangers, Natalia will pretend that she’s captured Quinn and that that’s why we’re out in the woods. We’ll probably be able to figure out some kind of jail break if it comes to that.” 

Eddie snorted. “Sure, I’m sure that’ll work,” he said. “Anyway, you’re going through the woods to the lake, right?” The players agreed and he rolled some dice to make them nervous. “Okay, you make it there without problems. It’s just after nightfall by the time you arrive. Gaten’s compass is still pointing the way to the middle of the lake, and there’s a small boat there. It will not fit the whole party. What do you do?” 

This spawned a rigorous debate among his players. Eddie told him it would hold three people, maybe four at max, and they started debating how to break up the party.

“A bard has to stay with Sadie,” Jeff said. “Or else she might get cursed and die.”

“Lucas would never forgive us,” Dustin said.

“Okay, so that means either Gaten or Quinn, right?” Mike said. “Quinn’s a bard. He can stay with Sadie and keep her safe.”

“Okay, but that means that Natalia has to stay with them,” Grant said. “So she can claim that she captured Quinn if they get caught, and keep them from outright killing him for, you know, all the murders.” 

“Quinn would very much like to not be captured at all, thank you,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t think he’ll get a fair trial.” 

“Also I don’t think that we should be relying on Quinn as a bard for Sadie,” Grant said. “If he gets caught, they’re going to throw him in prison. Then we have no personal bard for our cursed girl.”

Dustin groaned. “Okay, I need to stay near Sadie,” he said. “Not only did I promise Lucas, but it also makes sense in character.”

“Caleb would want to stay with her, too,” Jeff said. “So that makes us a group of three. We could all go, and the rest of you stay on the shore?”

“No way,” Mike said. He jerked a thumb at his chest. “Paladin. I’m leading the way. In fact...” He pointed at Dustin and Jeff and the vaguely empty spot where Lucas would be sitting if he had been there. “You three should be the ones staying behind and staying safe.”

“It’s just a trip to the middle of the lake. What could possibly happen?” Gareth said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Grant rolled his eyes. “Right, like Eddie isn’t grinning evilly already at the opportunity to split the party again.”

In the end, that was how they split things. Mike, Gareth, and Grant’s characters got on the boat and took Quinn with them. They reasoned that the bards could use the summon animal spell to communicate with each other if they got separated. Being a ranger, Grant’s character had her own compass, and used it to direct the boat to the middle of the lake.

In his DM voice, Eddie said, “Natalia’s compass is spinning wildly around. You have reached your destination. Quinn confirmed that this is about the place where Guardsman Myles died.”

“He had a name?” Gareth asked. “Was he, like, anyone we knew?” 

“Oh, Caleb definitely knew him,” Eddie said, pointing at Jeff. “The rest of you? Who knows.” 

“Okay, but is there anything here?” Mike asked.

“Nothing you can see above the water.” 

Grant, Gareth, and Mike leaned over to talk to each other. Jeff and Dustin did as well. When Eddie gave them a curious look, Dustin justified it by them still being on the shore and able to see what was going on. Eddie decided not to say anything about it.

“Okay, so who is taking the dive to see what’s down there?” Gareth asked.

“Joe is, obviously,” Mike said. “He’s already taking his armor off to swim better.”

“You sure about that, Michael?” Eddie asked. 

“Yes,” he said. “Not only does he have the best strength, but he’s a paladin. When there’s danger, he’s going first.”

“I’m just wondering if you’ll want your armor down there, that’s all.”

Mike scoffed. “You’ll just use the extra weight to drown me,” he said. “I haven’t used any healing spells yet today. I’ll be fine.” 

Both Gareth and Grant rolled their eyes, but neither of them gave any alternatives. Gareth cast a light spell on a rock for him to carry, so he could see below the water. After he dove, Eddie had Mike roll a few times against his strength to swim down and explore. 

“You find a glowing red fissure at the bottom of the lake. It’s about six feet wide and three feet across.” 

Mike crossed his arms. “How is it glowing? Is it, like, opening into the ground?”

“There’s some kind of barrier over the surface, and that’s what’s glowing. Do you want to touch it?” Eddie grinned. “You think you can see some kind of shadowy movement on the other side.”

“No, I’m not touching it,” Mike said. “I’m going to swim back up and tell everyone, so we can plan.”

“Great!” Eddie rolled some dice. “Okay, you make it back up to the surface.” 

“Did it look like the same gate to the demon realm that we’ve seen before?” Dustin asked.

“You’re not there!” Mike hissed.

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but Joe was there and Joe would know what it looked like because Joe has seen one.”

Mike let out a sigh. “Yeah, okay, fine. Did it look like a gate?” 

“Like a portal, you mean?” Eddie asked. ‘Yes, it looks like a little version of the big portal to the demon realm that your group closed a year ago. What do you do now?” 

“We should go back and regroup,” Gareth said. “Pull Joe back into the boat, row back to shore.”

“Hmmm, that’s a good plan,” Eddie said. He rolled some dice. “Mike, make me a dex check, will you?”

“What?” Mike groaned. “Oh, why is it always me?” 

“You’re the paladin,” Dustin said with a shrug. “Roll well.”

Mike rolled, and he did not roll well. They all looked over at Eddie, who had a little smirk on his face. He shook his head and rolled some more dice behind his screen.

Tagging: @weirdandabsurd42, @10moonymhrivertam.

[trigunbookclub]

i'm a little late to join the party, so i'm doing my best to catch up! but i was taking a look at the schedule, and i see that it's sepearated into volumes. would you happen to know the schedule by chapters?

Hello! Not too late at all--anyone's welcome to join at any time! I had to dig a bit, but they have the chapters listed on Wikipedia! I'll copy and paste here in case it helps someone navigate it easier, but I'm throwing it under a cut because it'll be long. I also recommend checking out @trigun-manga-overhaul for the most accurate translations, and it's all separated by volume there :D (I've been reading their browser version since it's easiest for me to take screenshots) Okay, chapter masterlist:

Trigun 1

00.High Noon

01.The $$60 Billion Double Dollar Man

02.Looney Tunes

03.Hard Puncher

04.Popo

05.Assault

06.Die Hards

07.Rem

08.Duelist

09.Then, Between The Wasteland and Sky

10.Little Arcadia

11.Son

12.River of Life

Trigun 2

13.Blood and Thunder

14.Diablo

15.Fragile

16.Scars

17.Slaughter Cafe

18.Gathering of the Devils

19.Eye of Invisibility

20.Fifth Moon

Extra: Day In Day Out

Extra: Trigun Pilot

Trimax 1

01. "Hero Reborn"

02. "Lina" (リィナ, Rina)

03. "Bravo, Girls!" (ガールズ・ブラボー！, Gāruzu Burabō)

04. "Hero Returns"

05. "Dancing Revolver"

06. "Sin" (罪, Tsumi)

Trimax 2

07. "Return of the Blue Wing of Death" (死を運ぶ 蒼き風 再び, Shi o Hakobu Aokikaze Futatabi)

08. "Resume our Business"

09. "Samurai Showdown" (サムライショウダウン, Samurai Shoudaun)

10. "Wolfwood" (ウルフウッド, Urufuddo)

11. "Desperado"

12. "Home Sweet Home" (ホーム・スィート・ホーム, Hōmu Su~īto Hōmu)

13. "Darkness" (暗闇, Kurayami)

Trimax 3

14. "Reservoir Dogs" (レザボア・ドッグス, Rezaboa Doggusu)

15. "Cement" (セメント, Semento)

16. "No Escape"

17. "Emilio the Player" (エミリオ・ザ・プレイヤー, Emiro za Pureiyā)

18. "Long Goodbye"

19. "Families" (ファミリーズ)

20. "His Life as a..."

Trimax 4

21. "Countdown"

22. "Bluesy Killer Horn" (ブルージィ キラー ホーン, Burūji~i Kirā Hōn)

23. "Bottom of the Dark"

24. "Den of Thieves" (魔窟, Makutsu)

25. "Crying Wild Bullet" (クライング ウイルド ブリッド, Kuraingu Uirudo Buriddo)

26. "Those Who Stood Idly By" (かたわらに たたずむ ものたち, Katawarani Tatazumu Monotachi)

27. "Doomed Sinner" (絶望の罪人, Zetsubou no Zainin)

Trimax 5

28. "The City And Then The Banquet of Dogs" (街 そして犬共の宴, Machi Soshite Inudomo no Utage)

29. "Breakout" (ブレイクアウト, Bureikuauto)

30. "Loss" (喪失, Sōshitsu)

31. "Villain" (凶人, Kyoujin)

32. "Death Deal" (デス ディール, Desu Dīru)

33. "Let Us Walk the Path to Redemption" (せめて歩ませよ我が購いの道を, Semete Ayumaseyo Waga Aganai no Michi o)

Trimax 6

34. "The Gunslinger" (ザ·ガンスリンガー, Za Gansuringā)

35. "double team"

36. "Cross X Assassins" (クロスXアサシンズ, Kurosu X Asashinzu)

37. "Death Omen" (死兆, Shichō)

38. "Colorless Expression" (色無き相貌, Ironaki Sōbō)

39. "Seeds Voyaging to the Stars, A World Inside a Pod" (星を往く種子 莢の中の世界, Hoshi o Yuku Shushi Saya no Naka no Sekai)

Trimax 7

40. "happy days."

41. "Separate Ways" (セパレイトウェイズ, Separeito Uizu)

42. "The King of Loneliness" (孤独の王, Kodoku no Ō)

43. "Good For Nothing and the Blues" (ろくでなしとブルース, Rokudenashi to Burūsu)

44. "When They Arrived, It Was Already the Beginning of the End" (辿り着けばそこはすでに終わりの始まり, Tadoritsukeba Sokowa Sudeni Owari no Hajimari)

45. "Conflict" (コンフリクト, Konfurikuto)

Trimax 8

46. "Invasion" (侵攻, Shinkou)

47. Silent Ruin

48. "Counter-Attack!! (カウンターアタック！！, Kauntā Atakku)

49. "Escape (脱出, Dasshutsu)

50. "Separate Paths (それぞれの道, Sorezore no Michi)

51. Wolfwood Spin Off - Freed Bird ([外伝] FREED BIRD, [Gaiden] Freed Bird)

Trimax 9

52. Home

53. Gale

54. LR

55. Battle to the Death

56. Prostrate Demon

57. Fortitude

Trimax 10

58. Reckless Conduct

59. Sworn Friend

60. Sudden Change

61. Death Omen

62. Final Battle

63. Homecoming

64. Wolfwood

65. Final Farewell

Trimax 11

66. Zero Hour

67. Slap Sticks Days

68. Thunderstruck

69. Return of the Wicked

70. Get Ready, Get Set

71. Someone to Defend

Trimax 12

72. The Journey Ends - But Heavy Breathing Still Echoes

73. Corrosive Thunder

74. The Interceptor

75. The Gunslinger

76. + - 0

77. resonance

78. Run Livio Run

79. Lantern

80. Their Own World

Trimax 13

81. False Doppleganger

82. Double Duel

83. Demon Fire

84. Black

85. Battle of the Mystics

86. Tag in a Person

87. catch-as-catch-can

88. Apex Wings (尖翼)

89. VS

Trimax 14

90. When Conflict Comes to An End (相克果つる刻, Sōkoku hatsuru toki)

91. overkill

92. Side by Side (サイド・バイ・サイド)

93. Never give up! Never surrender!

94. Ticket to the Future (未来への切符, Mirai e no kippu)

95. Mind Games

96. Double Wings (双翼, Sōyoku)

97. Never Ending Song