#treehouse residence

[gagesfall]

Tropical Architecture – New Treehouse Residences at Punta Sayulita,  Bahia De Banderas, México

[asurrogateblog]

my favorite part of beach boys lore is that the beatles are the villains

[spookynerdiness]

Halloween, 2002

[amaisondepasse]

HOUSE

www.amaisondepasse.tumblr.com

[simping-for-joe]

Leon huffs out a sigh as he looks over the plans, how the hell was he going to do this?

"Leon?" A voice gets his attention, and his head snaps back to see Ethan standing in the doorway.

"Close the door!" The agent shouts, the man raises an eyebrow but does as asked.

"Should I be worried?" Ethan asks, his eyes scanning the room and looking for anything out of place.

"I..." Leon huffs out and hands the instructions to the other man. Ethan looks it over quickly.

"Is this a treehouse?"

"Yeah... I thought it would be a good idea for Rose." Ethan smiles at his boyfriend before kissing his cheek.

"You know, Rose is going over to a friend's house for a sleepover. We can work on it then." The younger man offers with a gentle hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Thanks, Eth."

"Yeah, but also, did you actually think you could make this all on your own?"

"You underestimate me... and I was going to call Chris..."

"I question if you two could have handled it," Ethan replies with narrowed eyebrows.

"Chris probably would have gotten mad the instructions were telling him what to do." Leon jokes, getting a laugh from the other man. Causing a bigger smile to come to his lips, watching his partner laugh and grin.

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

"So, how was the sleepover?" Ethan asks as Rose gets into the car with her backpack and sleeping bag.

"It was okay... they had weird drinks." She mentions, confusing her father. "I mean, like they didn't have regular coke. They had like vanilla," she sticks out her tongue, getting a laugh from the man.

"Well, I hope you at least had fun."

"I did," she replies happily. She was chatting with her dad when she suddenly clams up.

"Rose?"

"Is this our house?" She asks with a confused look.

"What do you mean?" Ethan chuckles as he unbuckled his seatbelt and exits the car. "I think Leon finished the last couple of details." Rose rushes out of the car and up to the treehouse through their gate to the backyard. She runs up to what used to be an empty pair of trees, now there was a wooden structure.

"You like it?" A voice gets her attention. She turns to see a familiar man.

"Uncle Chris? Was this your idea?" She asks with shock, to which he shakes his head.

"Nope, it was all Leon."

"I think that's everything," Leon's voice gets her attention as he uses the ladder to exit the treehouse. "When is Rose-"

"Thank you! Thank you!" He is in shock when suddenly the girl hugs him tightly. "You're the best dad ever!" Rose adds before running up the ladder. He just lets his mouth fall open, as Chris chuckles patting his shoulder. Before heading to talk with Rose.

"You okay?" Ethan asks the man softly, approaching his boyfriend.

"Y-yeah, just happy," Leon reassures the other man, and the younger man grabs his hand. Resting his head on his shoulder as they watch Rose explore the new structure.

[wyrmoftheweb]

usually don't have lingering emotions about dreams but i'm STILL mad at walter white for not helping me wrangle those homestuck kids. it would have been so much easier for him (human man who can talk) to help me keep the law off their backs than it was for me (dragon the size of a medium dog that can only communicate telepathically and if it is touching someone). fucked.

[salazarsrighthand]

The Umbrella Corporation is proud to announce our latest product: The Fog That Turns People Inside Out

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 11 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, Reader has a baby bump and stretch marks (briefly mentioned), talk of insecurities

WC: 1.2k

A/N: this was inspired by an ask that I got for Eddie feeling so grateful when he witnesses a sweet moment between Ms. Sweetheart/Reader and Harris, but I can't find who sent it. If it was you, thank you!

November 1999

“Har? You ready for bed?”

Harris nods, peeling back his Spider-Man comforter and slipping beneath the covers. He points to the laminated list that’s Velcroed to the back of his door. You run your finger down the column where he’s used the dry erase marker to check off each task in his routine: shower, comb his hair, brush his teeth, pee, and change into his pajamas.  

“Nice job!” You walk—though at this point in your pregnancy, it’s a bonafide waddle—from the doorway towards the small bookshelf in the corner of his room and pluck the newest Magic Treehouse from its spot. Removing the bookmark, you cautiously lower yourself onto his bed, resting your free hand on your belly to keep steady. 

He snuggles into you, head nestled against your arm as you read aloud. “Chapter four,” you begin, but before you can continue, Harris speaks. 

“Mommy?” His voice is tiny, very much unlike his usual boisterousness, and you can’t help but feel worried. 

You brush an unruly lock of his hair from his forehead. “What’s up?”

Harris pauses for a moment, singular front tooth scraping over his bottom lip anxiously. “What if Baby Brother doesn’t like me?” His hazel eyes are shiny with incoming tears. “What if he doesn’t think I’m a good big brother?”

Your heart splinters into a thousand pieces when you hear the concern in his voice. “Oh, Har,” you murmur, shifting your weight to find a more comfortable position, “he’s going to love you. More than that; he’s going to look up to you. You’ll be his role model.”

“But I don’t know how to be a role model.” He keeps his gaze trained on the webbing shooting from Spider-Man’s fingers. “An’ everyone keeps saying that being a big brother is a really important job, but I’ve never been one before! What if I’m not good at it?”

You consider your words for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret?” you finally ask, softly smiling when his attention immediately snaps back to you. “Do you remember when I was your teacher, and you wanted me to be your mommy?”

“Mhm. An’ now you are.”

“And now I am,” you agree with a laugh. “But when your dad and I first started talking about me being your mommy, I was so scared.”

Harris’s eyes widen in disbelief. “You were scared?” His nose wrinkles as he tries to discern your reasoning. “Why?”

“Well, being a mommy is a super important job, too,” you tell him, tucking the bookmark back between the pages and setting the paperback down on the bed. “And I didn’t want to mess up or make any mistakes. But guess what?”

“What?” He places his hand on top of yours. 

You lean in and whisper, “I’ve messed up and made mistakes.” Your tone stays lighthearted, but both of you know that the words are spoken with truth. “There have been times where I should have been tougher, and times that I should have been more easygoing. And sometimes, I look back and think, ‘why did I do that?’” You shake your head to combat the memories of missteps you’ve inadvertently conjured up. “But you still love me, just like Baby Brother will always love you.”

Harris exhales with a heaviness that’s almost comical coming from a seven-year-old. He’s not wholly convinced, so you continue. 

“Har, you are gonna be the best big brother the world has ever seen.” The promise is honey-sweet and just as natural. “There are so many things you’ll get to teach the baby that Daddy and I can’t.”

He allows himself to look at you once again, curiosity overtaking nervousness. “Like what?”

“Like…drawing,” you say, scratching an itch on the side of your stomach where a stretch mark has formed. “You’re our resident artist; no one draws a family portrait better than Harris Munson.”

He giggles at this. “Yeah, an’ you guys don’t know a lot about superheroes; only a little bit.”

“Exactly. Only what you’ve taught us.” You kiss the crown of his head. “Baby Brother is so lucky to have you.”

Harris nods, letting out a yawn that alerts you to the time. 

“Come on, let’s get you into bed so you’re not snoozing in school tomorrow.” You lower his pillow from where he’s propped it against the wall, but he doesn’t move from his spot.

“I wanna say good night to Baby Brother.” He rests his cheek on the swell of your stomach with his hand just above your belly button. “Good night, Baby Brother. I love you, and I can’t wait to meet you in…” he rotates his neck so you’re looking directly at his nostrils, “how many days?”

“Thirteen, if he comes on time,” you say, adding a gentle reminder, “but sometimes babies show up a little late, so he might not get here until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Oh.” He considers this for a second, his gaze shifting back and forth from your belly to your eyes. “If he comes on Thanksgiving, do I still get to eat mashed potatoes?”

You shrug. “I don’t see why not. As long as you save some for me when I get home.”

Harris harrumphs at the prospect of sharing and you laugh, which gives you the urge to pee—again. “Sweet dreams, Har Bear.” You kiss his scalp again, slowly rising to flick off the light switch. There will be a time when he eschews the nickname, labeling it babyish, but it lives on for another day. 

In your beeline for the bathroom, you find Eddie waiting just outside Harris’s room. His cheeks are pink as though he’s been caught, and you notice the glassiness coating his chocolate eyes. 

“Eds? You okay?” You murmur the question under your breath, not wanting to alert Harris. 

“Mhm. Yeah, ‘m fine.” He hooks his fingers into the white cotton sleeves of his undershirt and wipes at his face. “Just pregnancy hormones,” he teases with a soft chuckle, and you nudge his hip with yours. “Really, though; everything’s good.” 

You want to press him further, but the full-term baby tap-dancing on your bladder has other plans, so you have to surrender. 

Eddie sighs, contentment flooding his body as he blinks away the blurriness and closes Harris’s door. Domesticity has wrapped itself around him, and the softness with which you talk to Harris only has him falling deeper into its embrace. 

He used to describe himself as lucky, but you’re always quick to point out that luck has nothing to do with it. He’s deserving of his little family and the unconditional love that comes with it. 

But deserving doesn’t explain you showing up at the Hideout three years ago, or him picking you out of the crowd, or you being Harris’s teacher and fostering an awkward but necessary reunion. There’s a solid chance that he’d still be the angry and defensive man who’d shoved his dreams away, because holding hope that they would come to fruition was simply too scary to consider. But now, despite years of self-sabotage, he’s got everything he could ever want. 

So, yeah. Eddie Munson is a lucky man. 

--

[inkfishe]

Tried my hand at making older (late teens?) designs for the stardew kids!! Headcanons under the cut:

Leo:

- Emily gifts him new clothes to wear, but not much of it sticks. He likes sweaters (he finds Pelican Town very cold in comparison to Ginger Island) and cargo pants.

- yes he is wearing suspenders

- Haley made him comb his hair and he will never forgive her

- He still lives in his treehouse, despite many Pelican Town residents offering him a bed in their homes.

- He prefers isolation but frequently does favors/quests for the townies, so he is very well-liked despite his quirks. This also means he finds himself in a lot of weird situations.

- Close Friends: Jas, Vincent, Emily, and Linus

Jas:

- After Shane steps up as her guardian, she starts to take interest in more boyish hobbies and styles.

- She loves ranching!! She’s more interested in cows and pigs than chickens, but still loves them all.

- She eventually takes over the Ranch when Marnie retires, and is also most likely to take over the farm when the farmer bites it

- Very passionate about cute accessories

- Can be socially awkward and has a hard time communicating with others. Luckily, animals are much better listeners than people. She also struggles with a lot of newfound responsibility and being more adventurous.

- Close Friends: Vincent, Leo, Leah

Vincent:

- REALLY tries to follow in Sam’s footsteps. He wears Sam’s jackets around his waist.

- He wants to learn guitar and start a band, but unfortunately he’s extremely tone deaf (it doesn’t stop him from trying)

- He’s very physically active. Alex coaches him in sports and his dad + Abigail teach him how to fight monsters.

- Shares a lot of interests with Sam, including his love of childish things. He gets made fun of for it a lot. Because he tries so hard to be like Sam, he doesn’t actually have a strong sense of his own identity.

- Close Friends: Jas, Leo, Alex

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter four

close to home | chapter four

plot: Daryl and the reader get to know each other in the gray hours of the morning, and he needs to decide whether or not she's a good person and someone he can trust around his family.

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,530 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

The rain had dulled into a softer downpour, and the thunder echoed in the distance. Still, you decided to fill every possible container with rainwater. You insisted it would be less work cause it wouldn’t have to be boiled. 

Daryl couldn’t exactly get a read on you. Anyone out here alone couldn’t be in the best mindset, and if you were telling the truth and you had been out by yourself since nearly the beginning, well, he couldn’t imagine the toll it had on someone. This world was hard enough without having to go at it alone. 

Despite that, you seemed decent enough. He didn’t believe you to be a threat, at least not while he was awake. And he couldn’t figure out why you didn’t shoot him back in the woods when he pulled the crossbow on you. He believed any sane person would’ve. But then again, he didn’t let the arrow fly either. 

The treehouse seemed okay enough, and he didn’t miss the stockpile of ammo in the room. You had quite a collection of ammo. You were just missing something to shoot it with. You had plenty of knives, though. Enough to gut someone ten times over. But you didn’t have one on you. You’d set it down. Did you trust him? Did you not care if you lived or died?

Waves of frustration rippled off him; the thunderstorm and walkers had ruined what was supposed to be a simple run. And hell, Rick wasn’t even supposed to have joined them. Not with Lori due in a few days, and the group barely has control over their cell block. They barely had enough food to keep them going, which was the only reason why they were out there in the first place. The food they got from the prisoners wouldn’t last them long, and they needed real meat. 

He looked up and glanced at where you were sitting. You’d moved over to the window and pulled back the makeshift curtain, the breeze flowing in. Each time the distant lightning cracked, he could make out the features of your face since you’d moved away from the fire. 

“You said you went to medical school?” Daryl asked you. 

It took a moment before you realized he’d even asked a question. “I did. I was about to start my residency. Why?”

He hesitated for a moment. “You know anything about delivering babies?”

This captured your full attention, and you looked away, “Why? You due soon?”

Daryl didn’t sense the sarcasm in your tone, “Ain’t for me. Got a friend. Due in a couple days.” 

You shook your head, “I don’t know much. Besides, you said you wouldn’t tell me about your group.”

Daryl snorted but didn’t say anything as he leaned back against the wall. Bringing her back, someone with medical training, that would be big. Hershel wouldn’t be alone, and you might know more about humans. Still, it’d be a risk. He didn’t know if it was worth perusing. They’d been okay with just Hershel…

“I have a group,” Daryl said, “There’s eleven of us. This is how this works. You tell me your story. Tell me who you are and what you’ve done. Maybe if everything’s good… maybe I bring you back with me.” 

You continued looking out the window, and Daryl started to think you hadn’t heard him cause the silence stretched so long. But finally, you turned to look at him, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you bring me back with you? You don’t know me….”

“You coulda shot me in the head, coulda left me to die in the woods. I mighta survived, I mighta. But you helped me. Even now, you sit with no weapons. You ain’t even lookin’ at me. I don’ think ya dangerous.” 

You smiled sadly, “No, I’m not dangerous.” 

“I tell ya what. You tell me what I wanna know. We pack this place up and go when the storm clears.” 

“You just want my supplies and medical help with that baby,”

Daryl shrugged, “Maybe. But ain’t that the way the world works now.”

Again, you were silent and you looked out the window for a few minutes. Finally, you took a deep breath and looked at him. “How about this. We tell each other what we both wanna know, and I decide if I wanna trust you.” 

Daryl nodded slowly, “Aight, that’s fair.”

***

The wall was cold against your skin, and the rainwater splashes made you shiver even more. The fire was dying, and the treehouse was growing darker. You slowly moved from your spot and put more logs on the fire. Then you went to grab an old can of peaches and gave Daryl another can of food too. 

“I was up in Atlanta when everything happened. Liam was one of those survivalists, always thinking about the end of the world. He wasn’t crazy about it. I mean, hell, he was right. But he knew things, and he knew how to take care of himself. So when the world went to shit, we got the hell out of Atlanta. He said that if there’s a cure, he will wait it out,

“So we took off, headed down south. His parents lived around here. They didn’t make it. But this treehouse was his. He and his dad built it years ago. It used to have stairs, but we knocked them down when a dead one got up on the porch. We fixed this place up together. I’ve been here since.” 

“Winter musta sucked,”

You laughed and nodded while taking another bite of your food. “It did. There’s no insulation. I got snowed in a few times. But Tora and I… we managed. It’s been just us since October, I think. I don’t know,”  You shook your head, “I had some family down here too, but I checked their place out, burnt down and overrun, just like every other shithole.”

“And before? Before all this?”

“Why does it even matter? I was just a normal person. I was in school, engaged, and living the dream in Atlanta. It doesn’t matter.”

Daryl nodded, “It’s easy to think that way,”

“Not sure there’s any other way to think,” You said, “So what about you? Your group, been together before?”

He shook his head, “No, we met each other on the road. We’ve lost a few people, gained a few people too. We’re holding up nice now if we can make it work. Our leader, Rick, and his wife are pregnant. Abouta pop. We have a man that can help, but I don’t know. I figured someone else might help too.”

You nodded and looked around the treehouse. This was a place you knew before and after. A place that you loved and hated. It was home and a prison, with memories that hurt every time you stepped in. And you were alone. And you were tired. 

“Your leader, Rick… will he take me?”

“He will. You helped me, you coulda killed me, and you didn’t. Plus, you got medical supplies and ammo. Our group needs both.”

You glanced at your stockpile. Your lifeline. Could you trade that? What if they took it and killed you right after?

Daryl seemed to sense your hesitation. “I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I coulda killed you too, back in the woods. Woulda been real easy to just pull the trigger. But I didn’t. I’m taking a leap of faith here, too, (Y/N).”

“Can Tora come?”

This made Daryl laugh, and he looked at the giant cat stretched out by the fire. “Yeah, yeah. We probably got a rat problem. We’ll keep her busy. Everyone pitches in. Besides, we got a kid. He’d probably love an animal around.”

You nodded and tossed the empty can aside. “I’m really familiar with the area. Been here before and after. You tell me where your camp is, and I bet I can get you there.”

“We at a prison,” 

Your eyebrows rose. “I know what one you’re talking about. About twenty miles north of here, right? Liam and I saw it a while back. It was full of walkers.”

“Not anymore.”

“Big group,” You said, your stomach tight with nerves. “If they kill me, promise me you’ll make sure Tora lives.”

The archer chuckled, “No one’s gonna kill ya.”

“I have a car. About two miles north of here is Liam’s parent's house. I keep some stuff there sometimes. If no one’s broken it, we can get to it once the storm clears and the sun’s up. I’m not walking twenty miles again.”

“Me neither,”

***

Sometime in the early morning, sleep found you. When your eyes opened a few hours later, the sun had been up for at least an hour. It took a few seconds before your memory came back to you and you jumped up, looking for the stranger from yesterday. 

The treehouse was empty, and your stockpile was gone. And so was Tora. “Son of a bitch,” You muttered, getting up. You grabbed your matchete and ran to the door. It was slightly ajar, and you nearly fell over when it opened so easily. 

“Jesus, you tryin’ wake everythin’ up around here?” Daryl stood by the balcony's edge, lowering the baskets with some rope. 

“I thought….”

“Yeah, I know what you thought, but I didn’,” Daryl said, “I was gonna wake ya up soon. Your cat brought a rabbit back.” He nodded his head behind you, and you looked back. It had already been gutted, cleaned, and cooked. You stood in disbelief for a second. 

“Oh… where is she?”

“On the roof,” 

You grabbed a few pieces of the tender meat and looked up to where she was gnawing on some bones. You couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at her. 

“Your bag, the one you dropped by the lake. Anything important?”

“It was just water. And some clothes. Everything else is damaged from the water.” You said, going back for a few more pieces. After yesterday, you were starving. 

“Good, didn’ wanna walk all the way back there,”

You nodded and took one last piece before disappearing back into the treehouse. It seemed Daryl had grabbed everything. Except on the table were a few of your personal belongings. Your gun, leg holster, ring, and a photograph of you and Liam together. Your still-wet shoes were on the floor next to the table. 

Taking a deep breath, you took a photograph from the frame and folded it, then put it in your back pocket. Your attached the hostler and then looked at the ring. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it was a beautiful ring. Still, it ached your heart, and you couldn’t bring yourself to put it on. It didn’t feel right. Liam was gone. You weren’t. And you needed to think of a future where you survived, not memories that would hold you back. 

After pressing a quick kiss to the ring, you laid it gently along the small fireplace’s mantle. It was newly built. It wasn’t there before. But now, the ring would sit in the treehouse where it belonged. Where it could stay forever with Liam’s spirit and memory. 

“You aight?”

You looked back at Daryl and nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“It’s been quiet this morning. I think the walkers followed the storm south. The cat doesn’t seem worried.” 

You nodded and walked past him. Everything you needed to bring was already on the ground. “I’ve been here almost a year. Kept me safe. It feels so final.” You said. 

“We goin’ someplace better. Don’ got the time to be all wishy-washy about it.” 

You chuckled at his bluntness and walked towards the rope. “Yeah, I know.” 

***

Carrying all your supplies was much more difficult, and the two miles seemed to stretch forever. Each of you had bags on your shoulders and were carrying boxes of supplies. But finally, the yellow house came into view, and you sighed with relief. 

You didn’t need to say anything, your reaction alone told Daryl you were there, and he felt relief too. When you approached the garage door, you looked through the glass window and banged a few times before opening it. 

“I’ve picked through the house a few times. There’s really nothing to take. Anything worth taking I already did,” You said, walking over to the boxes of old Christmas decorations and donation boxes that never made it out. 

Underneath a Christmas tree box were the keys to the white Jeep Wrangler, and you unlocked the car quickly. It only took another minute to get it loaded up. 

“We lost the soft top a while back, left it at a storage unit in Atlanta, if I’m being honest.” You said. Suddenly your eyes widened, “Hold on, I gotta get something from the house.” 

“I’ll come with ya,” Daryl said. 

You glanced towards Tora, who happily sniffed all the boxes and other crap around the garage. “I’ll only be a second; watch her.”

You disappeared into the house, banging on a few walls to ensure no dead ones were around. You and Liam had locked the house up pretty tight. Just as suspected, there was nothing. And you quickly grabbed what you were looking for. On your way back, you passed another few boxes of donations and paused. 

In the garage, Daryl was getting antsy. He checked the supplies and then rechecked them. He wanted to get on the road and get back to his people. He wanted to know if Rick, Glenn, and Maggie had made it. He didn’t wanna wait any longer. 

Just when he was about to go look for you, you walked through the door carrying a bag in your arm and a cat carrier in the other. 

“I don’t trust her not to jump out of the car,” You said, shoving the carrier in his arms. “And I got this. Figured they shouldn’t be wasted, and I didn’t know how many baby supplies you got. It’s just some clothes and a few toys. Nothing else, sadly.”

“Lori will love this,” Daryl said quietly, setting down the carrier and taking the box from you. “You might be her favorite person after this.”

You laughed as you grabbed Tora, earning a few hisses as you tried to put her in the carrier. It took two tries, but finally, she was sitting rather unhappily and a bit overstuffed. “It’s only for a little while, baby,” You said, putting the carrier in the back seat and strapping it in, all while ignoring the few hisses she gave in displeasure.��

“Here,” You said, tossing the keys to Daryl. “This way, your people don’t think I got you hostage or something,”

Daryl only nodded and opened up the garage door, taking a quick look around before climbing it. You were just buckling in when the car roared to life, and he took off.

[humanradiojmp]

Rabbit the... Rabbit

Mischievous troublemaker, “Rabbit” is one of the lower-rung living dolls that makes it his mission to inconvenience everyone around him. Whether it’s breaking, "borrowing", or dropping something, so long as it puts back the progress of whatever they were doing, he doesn’t mind. A loner that resides in a makeshift treehouse and doesn’t interact with many other dolls. Which is fine by him. Better to be alone and on the verge of forgetting who you are than to be around those proud, vain dolls that’ll work him until his stuffing gives out.

I’m pretty happy with how this came out. it was with Jax (called Rabbit here) and having trouble with coming up with an outfit that I decided on the older style. His outfit is inspired by 90’s fashion. And his overall design is based on plush rabbit toys, albeit a little busted up. I had sketched out the general idea of Jax missing an eye and part of his ear missing and the idea evolved to where he lost a whole arm and had to get it replaced and also lost a lot of stuffing and had to have some of the fabric brought in (hence the visible stitching). Yeah, it’s honestly impressive he made it through, especially with the haphazard repairs he got. But with the hierarchy of the dolls that's been reworked and what they do to club dolls like him, it might have been better if he didn’t.

The song for him is Gangsta’s Paradise by Coolio. I'm not super familiar with a lot of 90s songs (mostly because they’re not my taste) but listening to this one a few times, I think it matches what he’s been through and his general attitude.

YouTube link here

[emerald-technologist]

Why Am I Nonhuman?

1,747 words; estimated 11-14 minute read

A preface to this essay: This essay was written stream-of-consciousness as a method to sort out my thoughts on the subject, and then edited into a form more accessible to the public. If it feels a little odd or wandering in places, that’s why. I didn’t want to remove the portions that are my sorting-through of my thoughts; it felt important to the final conclusion that they be part and parcel with it.

Othercon 2024 was host to a panel run by two dear friends of mine, Goratrix of the Draconic Wizard Workshop (@goratrix-betrayed on Tumblr) and Chaiya of the Treehouse System (@treehouse-headspace on Tumblr). The panel in question discussed the idea of nonhuman personhood, how nonhumanity and inhumanity can give us insights upon personhood, and whether personhood is something we should, or indeed can, reject. It also, being run by two vampire fictives, one of whom identifies himself as human and the other of whom does not, touched on the nature of humanity as opposed to the nature of personhood - which got me thinking about my own feelings on humanity, and why exactly I reject the label of human.

Some vocabulary for those unfamiliar with the World of Darkness setting, so that I don’t have to stop and explain words mid-essay multiple times:

Chantry: the building where (typically) all the vampires of Clan Tremere living in a certain city reside and work

Childe, plural childer: a vampire created through the Embrace — the childe is the progeny of their sire.

Clan: the group of vampires one belongs to by blood, which determines which powers come naturally to them and, to at least some extent, their culture

Embrace: the process of turning someone into a vampire by draining them of blood and then feeding them some of the sire’s blood (capitalized when written)

Ghoul: a mortal who drinks vampire blood on a regular basis, granting them immortality (as long as they continue drinking vitae regularly) and a modicum of vampiric power

Sire: the person who turns one into a vampire (the person a vampire turns is their childe)

Tremere: the clan of vampires I belong to, a highly unified and organized clan of blood sorcerers who rely on intra-clan solidarity and adaptability as defense against our enemies (we have a… rocky history with many other clans; it’s a long story)

Vitae: vampire blood, sometimes also called ‘the Blood’ with a capital B

With that aside:

Some background on my history and the circumstances under which I became a vampire (or Kindred; I will use the terms interchangeably) is required to really explain where I’m coming from on this. Back in source, I was Embraced into what I recognize now was essentially a cult, run by my original sire (I have since been adopted by another), a man who I recognize now was extremely manipulative and abusive to all of us, but perhaps especially his childer and his ghouls. This cult, this chantry, contained Kindred, ghouls, and mortals who had not yet been judged worthy to be let in on the secret of the supernatural. Generally, how it works is that one is invited to the meetings of an “occult group” as a mortal, which is of course run by the ghouls and Kindred without revealing who they are, and typically observed for a period ranging from several months to a couple of years. If they pass certain tests and the general judgements of the Kindred in charge of the occult group, then they are invited to commit themselves more and more over time, until eventually they are invited to take blood from the Kindred, and be fed from in turn, for the first time (not necessarily in that order). This is a show of trust, of proving yourself; being made a ghoul is a privilege to earn - the ghouls are elevated above their peers by the gift of the Blood, brought closer to vampirism. Many ghouls remain ghouls forever, but almost all hope to one day earn the Embrace - most who are Embraced go a decade or two before being chosen, and spend it proving themself worthy of more and more trust, more and more power granted. Of course, the Kindred must constantly prove themselves as well, must constantly compete for rank both official and social - but to be Kindred is to be inherently above the ghouls and mortals, inherently more than them. To be Embraced is not just to be immortal and powerful, but to have your very mind opened to understand the world better, more deeply, than a mortal or ghoul ever could, even an elder ghoul.

Perhaps, dear reader, you begin to understand why I now have to sit and question why, exactly, I have rejected humanity, and whether I am right to have done so and continue to do so. I’ve unpacked all this enough to realize that if my reason is because it feels degrading to be called human, because it feels lesser, then… that is probably not a good reason.

And yet, even as I reconcile with the fact that I am not, in fact, superior to the mortals and ghouls around me for being Kindred, calling myself human still feels wrong. I worked hard to earn the right to drop that name; to pick it up again feels like discounting that effort and that victory. Moreover, I just… don’t connect with it anymore. Vampire affects who I am, how I think, and how I act more than human ever did. Vampirism is important to me; humanity was always merely circumstantial.

But what does that even mean? What is humanity, really? It’s not merely the circumstance of being physically human, alive and breathing; after all, many vampires still consider themselves human. What makes one vampire human, and another not? What makes me no longer human?

In many cases, at least in my world, it comes down to morality - Kindred have codes of morality called Paths of Enlightenment, or sometimes Roads of Enlightenment, and those who have adopted one instead of continuing to follow the tenets of the Road of Humanity, which is essentially what most humans can be assumed to be “following” (avoid doing harm, avoid violating other people, generally hold compassion and kindness for others, etc.), are often considered the “inhuman” vampires. But I’ve never been drawn to another Road. Indeed, I still walk the Road of Humanity; I’ve never seen a reason to leave it. Community serves me well, and compassion, connection, and consideration for others all serve community. Community and compassion are not unique to humanity - just ask the werewolves of home, or for that matter the alterhuman community here - and especially as part of Clan Tremere, where community and solidarity are highly prized, I don’t feel that they have to make me human. I can walk the Road of Humanity without being human, just as one can walk the Road of Kings without being a king.

Perhaps it’s the fact that ‘human’ and ‘vampire’ are often treated as inherently contradictory labels - that many vampires who insist on calling themselves ‘human’ do so as a rejection of what they have become. And, indeed, they do feel as though they fit into the same ‘slot’ for me, and trying to wear both at once feels wrong in a way that’s hard to articulate. But I know that that’s not inherently true either. I know people who are both human and vampire - Chaiya, as mentioned above, is one of them. Being human doesn’t have to mean rejecting what you have become, or pretending to not be what you are.

Perhaps it’s simply that while vampirism isn’t superior to humanity in general, it has been infinitely better for me personally. The Embrace is one of the best things to ever happen to me; before it, I was next to nothing, with little real hope of making something of myself. Vampirism gave me power, immortality, the chance to be part of something greater than myself, the chance to make my mark on the world. I could never have been what I am now if I had remained mortal. Perhaps it’s also that I’ve been considering myself no longer human for so long that picking up the label again feels wrong. I pulled it off, grew without it, and now it no longer fits when I try to put it back on. Perhaps it’s the very discarding of the word human that made me become something that can no longer be called human accurately, even though from outside inspection I might be mistaken for one. Perhaps. Perhaps that doesn’t mean anything at all; there’s nothing material to that.

But my friends have pointed out, as we’ve been discussing this, that perhaps the mere fact of the choice, and of being happier for it, is enough. That even if there’s no hard line between the two, that doesn’t mean which one (or ones) one chooses to use isn’t personally meaningful. After all, to borrow the analogy one gave me, is there a hard, definitive difference between a man and a woman? If there isn’t, should someone who is happier being a woman feel that she can’t call herself that because she was born a man and there’s no definitive difference? I’ve lived around enough trans people to say no, of course not. That would be ridiculous.

Ultimately, I think that is what it comes down to. Humanity as a social and philosophical concept is such a broad, nebulous thing that it’s virtually impossible to define with hard edges, as philosophy is wont to do. But… vampirism is something I chose, something I wanted, something I worked for. Humanity was only ever a matter of circumstance. Vampirism has helped me, made me a better person, made my life a better life. My life as a human was never what I wanted; maybe it could have been eventually, maybe not, but I don’t think I ever could have been as happy or fulfilled as a human as I am now. Humanity was ultimately simply not right for me, and while once it fit correctly at least as a matter of circumstance, it no longer fits even in that capacity. The Kindred aren’t above humanity, I know that now, but we don’t need to be to be other than. Vampirism is not inherently better, but it is better for me. I chose to be a vampire, and I chose to discard humanity.

Perhaps, in the end, that’s enough.

[rubyroboticalt]

Minecrafters grab your pickaxes, and catch up on the QBLR QUATERLY!

That's right, due to the holiday there's a double feature today! We've got pages of new stuff to go over, so let me learn you a thing about all the events and mishaps that happened on the server this week!

Party in the Toxic Cave! That's a very safe place to have no protective equipment whatsoever.

A safer place is the brand new Playground! Mozzarella opens up a playground for creatures and carers to play in, complete with a treehouse and a conveyer belt rollercoaster! The rollercoaster is 100% safe, and child-tested.

The Void Sanctum held its initiation ceremony, welcoming Brie, Gem, Soup, Bombom, Jinx, and Pip into its folds. Experience the Void.

Following that was a White Baby attack! The Baby has learned some new moves, while swarms of Nightmare Stalkers are still in its arsenal it uses a cloud of slideshow!

At least, slideshow for those of us with lower-end PCs who have particles turned on. The News, while produced on a PC older than Five Nights at Freddy's, has particles off. Get on my level, scrub.

Next up, a series of screenshots all captioned "the cutest baby on the server!", none of which feature the same creature twice. Yes, these creatures are all cute and very baby, but to make claims like that we'll have to have a proper creature pageant. Everyone go catch up on Toddlers and Tiaras!

New builds pop up around the server, with many players building new and adventurous structures. Slanted rooves, windmills and towers, oh my! Unlike most architectural ventures, the people here think about wheelchair users when making bathrooms! This one is big enough for any power chair to fit.

The void begins to encroach on peoples' homes, though not through the sanctum this time. Despite a Tiny render distance enforced, chunkloading with an average of 50 players is difficult.

A community barbecue was held! Plenty of food and drinks for everyone, and plenty of fun games. Of course, a party can only hold off the angst for so Hima and Snowball make some devoted sacrifices. After this, Snowball celebrates a birthday! A lighthearted end to a long day.

Another white baby attack. These are becoming routine on the server, something that is horrifying when you think about it. Violent attacks by a seemingly immortal creature are normalizing. Christ alive. Residents have different ways of destressing after these attacks. Hanging out on rooves is a popular one.

Deep sea exploration sees an explosion of interest! Submersibles and whales and dive suits abound. Fancy clothes and gourmet foods are made, including some questionable rich-folk eats. A picnic is held at the pergola. Attendees bond over food and a lovely sunny day.

And now, the autistic minecraft behaviors

A beautiful little bakery opens up! Sweet treats abound here. And, of course, more base work from the residents. Some bases are incredibly ambitious, and all are beautiful. All bases! Yup, all of them. All… bases. Guys please. This is just the backrooms now. The broadcast has to end here.

[bluekittyworld]

Still with YOU.

Hi! I have had this idea for a while, I am just trying to put into words for this fanfic.

Pairing: Devil Jimin x Human (f) Reader

Warning: 18+ (some chapters include smut and death)

Genre: Angst, Yandere, Smut (Fluff if you squint your eyes)

Please any feedback will be appreciated! Your words and likes motivate me to write more :)

Also please don't copy, or post/translate my work on other platforms, thank you.

Happy reading, and PLEASE give me feedback, tysm <3

Approx. 6 chapters, 14k words

Summary: Growing up, you didn't embrace religion as fervently as your grandmother did, but her deep faith often led her to take you to Sunday prayers. The Church is where you met a Priest named Jimin, you couldn't shake the strange attraction you felt towards him, a magnetic pull that seemed to defy reason.

Jimin takes you through each sin, corrupting your soul, in the end do you ultimately end up in hell?

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 [End]

At the tender age of four, you had an imaginary friend like many other children do. He was a comforting presence, older and wiser, and you cherished the time spent playing together in the backyard treehouse that had stood for years before your family moved in.

But as you grew older, the visits to the treehouse became less frequent, overshadowed by the weight of tragedy and loss. The untimely passing of your parents in a tragic car accident cast a pall over your once vibrant world, stealing away the joy and innocence you once knew.

In the wake of such devastating loss, even the simple pleasures of childhood seemed to lose their lustre, leaving you adrift in a sea of grief and sorrow. The treehouse, once a sanctuary of imagination and play, stood silent and forgotten, a poignant reminder of happier times now lost to the past.

You moved into a cottage where your grandmother lived after the incident, you were just 9 years old. The cottage was situated in a small village just a couple of minutes away from the church.

Growing up, you didn't embrace religion as fervently as your grandmother did, but her deep faith often led her to take you to Sunday prayers. Despite not having many friends your age in the countryside, where mostly retired individuals resided, you found solace in the companionship of your grandmother's friends.

Over the years, you formed close bonds with them, cherishing the warmth and love they showered upon you. Their affection filled a void in your life, offering a sense of belonging and acceptance that you had yearned for. Yet, amidst the love and care they provided, you couldn't shake the lingering feeling of longing, a desire for deeper connections and a sense of purpose that seemed to elude you, maybe because your parents left you so early?

As adulthood beckoned, you made the conscious choice to pursue your studies through online lectures, opting to remain close to your grandmother rather than venture onto a distant campus. Some might have labelled you as immature for your decision, but you knew that your grandmother was your only family, and her time with you was precious and limited.

The thought of leaving her side, even for the pursuit of higher education, filled you with a sense of dread and guilt. You couldn't bear the idea of being apart from her, especially knowing that her time on this earth was drawing to a close. In your heart, you knew that being by her side during her final days was the most important thing, and you were willing to sacrifice other opportunities to ensure that she was not alone.

As your grandmother's health declined, it became increasingly difficult for her to visit the church on her own. Recognizing the importance of her faith in her life, you took it upon yourself to accompany her to Sunday prayers each week.

With the arrival of a new young priest at the church, you couldn't help but notice a sudden surge in the number of elderly ladies attending the services. It amused you how the presence of a handsome man seemed to reignite their religious fervour.

Shaking your head in amusement, you guided your grandmother to her favourite spot in the front row, ensuring she was comfortable before taking a seat beside her. Despite the comical circumstances, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the community of faith that had become a source of comfort and solace for your grandmother.

“I am Jimin, and I will be reading the passage from the Bible today” the young priest introduced himself and a sense of familiarity washed over you. His smile, warm and genuine, seemed to pierce through the crowd, locking onto your gaze with an intensity that made you slightly uncomfortable.

Despite your unease, there was something about him that tugged at the edges of your memory, a nagging sense of recognition that you couldn't quite place. How could you feel like you knew him when you had never met him before?

As Jimin began to read from the Bible, his voice resonating through the hallowed space of the church, you couldn't shake the feeling of being drawn to him, as if there were some invisible thread connecting the two of you across time and space. It was a mystery that lingered in the recesses of your mind, waiting to be unravelled.

Lost in a trance-like state, you found yourself more captivated by Jimin's physical presence than the words he spoke. His flawless, almost golden complexion seemed to glow in the soft light of the church, accentuated by the pitch-black cascade of hair that framed his strikingly dark eyes.

Your gaze lingered on his plush, pink lips as they moved in rhythm with the words of the passage, each syllable rolling off his tongue with a mesmerizing cadence. The sight of his Adam's apple bobbing with each word only added to the allure, drawing your attention like a moth to a flame.

It was as if time had slowed to a crawl, the world around you fading into insignificance as you became lost in the ethereal beauty of this enigmatic man before you. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the intoxicating pull of his presence, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume all reason and restraint.

Feeling the weight of Jimin's gaze upon you, you were jolted out of your reverie by the sound of his throat clearing. Heat flooded your cheeks as embarrassment washed over you, realizing that he had caught you staring.

Quickly averting your gaze, you focused intently on your hands, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you tried to regain your composure. Determined not to get caught in his gaze again, you kept your eyes firmly fixed on your lap, refusing to let yourself be distracted by the captivating presence of the young priest.

As Jimin continued to read from the Bible, the words washing over you in a blur, you silently resolved to maintain your focus and avoid any further embarrassment. After all, you couldn't afford to let yourself get caught in his spell again, no matter how tempting it may be.

As Jimin made his rounds, handing out toffees to each granny with a considerate and sweet demeanour, you couldn't help but admire his thoughtfulness. It was clear that he knew how to brighten their day with such simple gestures of kindness.

When he finally reached you, his touch lingered a moment longer than necessary as he held onto your hand. Startled, you looked up to meet his gaze, only to find him squeezing your hand with a playful smirk playing on his lips. Confusion swept over you like a tidal wave, leaving you to wonder if perhaps there was more to his actions than met the eye. It certainly didn't feel like your imagination running wild.

Lying in bed that night, thoughts of Jimin lingered in your mind, his actions replaying over and over again like a broken record. Despite your best efforts to push them aside, you couldn't shake the strange attraction you felt towards him, a magnetic pull that seemed to defy reason.

You scolded yourself for harbouring such feelings towards a man of the cloth, reminding yourself of Jimin's role as a priest—a figure of reverence and devotion, not someone to be viewed through the lens of attraction.

Yet, try as you might to suppress those forbidden thoughts, they continued to bubble up to the surface, refusing to be ignored. In the quiet solitude of your room, you found yourself grappling with conflicting emotions, torn between the dictates of reason and the undeniable allure of desire. It was a battle you knew you couldn't afford to lose, but one that seemed to grow more challenging with each passing moment.

The following morning you woke up just past the afternoon, you felt a little lazy today oddly, normally you were always energetic and an early bird.

You heard your grandmother talking to someone, a male to be specific. Confused by the unfamiliar voice, you decided to investigate, not particularly concerned about your appearance. After all, your pyjamas were decent enough, and you quickly tied your hair into a messy bun before heading out of your room to see who it was.

Jimin was sat there having tea with your grandmother, you never regretted a decision so much before, you wished you had put a bit more effort into your appearance.

“Good afternoon _____” Jimin smiled and showed his pearly whites.

Did he really have to acknowledge your presence you thought.

Feeling too embarrassed to say anything, you meekly smiled back.

Jimin nodded “Your grandmother makes lovely tea, come join us.”

He patted the seat next to him, as soon as you were about to make an excuse…

“Yes, dear sit down, I brought your cup already” you grandmother said.

Jimin patted the seat next to him again, you awkwardly sat down, you felt a bit too warm being so close to him.

As the conversation ebbed and flowed around you, you found yourself lost in thought, quietly sipping on your tea as your mind wandered once more to Jimin. Despite the reverent atmosphere of the room and the presence of the holy man beside you, your thoughts strayed to decidedly less holy territory.

In your peripheral vision, you caught glimpses of Jimin, sitting beside the esteemed figure with an air of casual confidence that only seemed to enhance his allure. Despite your best efforts to remain focused on the conversation at hand, your mind couldn't help but drift to the image of him, a tantalizing presence that stirred something primal within you.

As you sipped on your tea, the warmth of the liquid failing to dispel the heat that suffused your cheeks, you couldn't help but entertain the not-so-holy thoughts that danced through your mind, fuelled by the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence

You finished your cup of tea, setting it down with a delicate clink. Summoning up the courage, you stole a quick glance at Jimin, only to find him already looking at you, that infuriating smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

For a moment, you entertained the idea of smacking that smirk right off his face. But then you realized, with a sinking feeling, that he seemed to have a knack for reading your thoughts. Or at least, you hoped not.

Finally you excused yourself, and went back to your room. At last you felt a bit cooler and those unholy thoughts calmed down a little.

Later that evening your grandmother said that she promised Father Park that you would help him with church duties. Who even was he? You thought to yourself.

“Who is Father Park?” you asked.

“Jimin, his full name is Park Jimin” your grandmother replied with a smile.

“Park Jimin” you whispered; even his name was as beautiful as him.

Then it suddenly hit you that your grandmother volunteered you to help him out, you felt so uneasy around him because of your own mind.

“Do I really have to help him?” you pouted.

“______, sweetie, it’s good to help others and you needed some sort of volunteering for your scholarship application, this is a great opportunity for that too” she replied.

She did have a point, so you just thought to give it a go for now, you could always quit later, right?

As Friday dawned, anticipation hummed in the air, a tangible excitement flowing through your veins as you made your way towards the church. With each step, you rehearsed the words in your mind, preparing to greet Jimin—Father Park—with the proper respect and deference befitting his position.

"Hi, Father Park," you whispered to yourself, the words rolling off your tongue in practiced cadence, each syllable infused with a sense of reverence and warmth.

As you neared the church, your heart quickened with anticipation, the echo of your rehearsed greeting ringing in your ears like a silent mantra. And as you stepped through the threshold, ready to embark on another day of volunteering alongside Jimin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you, eager to see what the evening would bring in the presence of the enigmatic Father Park.

He was expecting you and was waiting just by the door.

As you approached the church, you couldn't contain your excitement and blurted out, "Hi Jimin!" Instantly, you mentally scolded yourself for not sticking to your rehearsed greeting.

Jimin's smirk only deepened, teasing you with his playful demeanour. "Hi _____," he replied, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Someone seems excited. Come to the back; we have a lot of scrolls to arrange by dates." His smile was infectious, melting away your annoyance and replacing it with a warmth that spread through your chest. With a flutter of anticipation, you followed him eagerly, eager to spend the day by his side once more.

As Jimin guided you through the corridors of the church, a familiar warmth enveloped you once more, causing a light sheen of perspiration to form along your hairline. Despite the coolness of the surroundings, the intensity of his presence seemed to ignite a fire within you, sending waves of heat rippling through your body.

When you reached the small room, well it wasn’t exactly small, but the large boxes placed around left little room to manoeuvre. As you surveyed the cluttered space, Jimin's sudden touch on your arms sent a jolt of surprise coursing through you, causing you to freeze in place.

“Umm… what are you-” you said.

“You look like you’re feeling really warm so I thought you might want to take off your jacket” he cut you off, was his voice always this attractive?

You took a step away from him, and took off your jacket, he held his hand out indicating you to give it to him, he hung it neatly on the hook behind the door.

As Jimin explained the task at hand, gesturing towards the box of scrolls with an air of casual confidence, your attention wavered, drawn inexorably to the sight of his hands—those elegant, mesmerising hands that seemed to possess a grace all their own. Despite your best efforts to focus on his words, your gaze remained fixated on the subtle movements of his fingers as they gestured and emphasized various points.

Nodding absentmindedly in response to his instructions, you found yourself lost in a haze of fascination, utterly captivated by the sight before you. Surely, arranging scrolls by date order couldn't be so difficult, not when Jimin's hands were there to guide you, effortlessly navigating through the task with a skill that bordered on the sublime.

You were now arranging the scrolls. The cool, aged parchment felt delicate beneath your fingertips as you carefully laid them out on the expansive wooden table before you.

The musty scent of history lingered in the air, mingling with the faint fragrance of incense, creating an atmosphere of reverence and tranquillity as you worked, you arranged them in a meticulous order.

“_____” Jimin spoke.

“Mhm?” you replied, trying to concentrate on the scrolls and not him.

“How was your childhood?” he asked.

What a random thing to ask you thought.

“It was okay, my parents passed away when I was nine years old” you replied.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but before that when you were younger, did you have many friends? Imaginary friends like some people say, even though they might be real.” He said mindlessly.

You stopped arranging the scrolls and looked at him, that is such an oddly specific question.

He chuckled, “Sorry you don’t have to answer it.”

“I did have 2 friends, and I think I had an imaginary friend too, I don’t really remember much, my memories are all mixed up from the trauma of losing my parents.” You replied a little emotionally. Jimin looked into your eyes, his gaze softened a bit, he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and patted your head… what was that for, it’s not like you’re five, you’re a grown woman, you thought.

As you returned home after your volunteering session, a sense of contentment washed over you. Surprisingly, the experience hadn't been as bad as you had initially feared; in fact, you found yourself considering the possibility of returning again. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you reflected on the past two hours, realising that you had actually enjoyed spending time at the church, particularly in Jimin's company.

Throughout the week, you found yourself eagerly anticipating your next encounter with him. There was something about him that made you feel at ease, something that drew you to him like a moth to a flame. You found solace in sharing your stories with him, comforted by his attentive ear and understanding demeanour.

Unbeknownst to you, however, your growing affection for Jimin was leading you deeper into his web of deceit. Little did you realize the true nature of his intentions, or the dangerous game he was playing. As the days passed and your feelings for him intensified, you remained oblivious to the lurking shadows that threatened to consume you whole.

Chapter 2

Masterlist

A/N: how was it? :) the next chapter will contain smut, only read if you're 18+

[leonskittybunwriting]

Forever (Leon Kennedy)

 

Warnings: zombie apocalypse, bear hybrid leon x bunny fem reader. Angst/comfort 

 

Part 1

 

A/N: I don't own resident evil characters, and I don't own resident evil!

Leon's bear ears twitch as his combat boots hit the muddy ground below him as he walks through the forest, his shotgun on his back and his handgun in his gun holder. 

 

His knife is hiding in his combat boot, and his machete is in his hand. 

 

He carries a bag on his shoulder. 

 

He continues to walk to his hiding place, which was a treehouse that he had built prior to the world ending. 

 

He wasn't alone; he had you. You were slightly younger than him, in your 20s, while he was in his 40s. 

 

He was surprised that you two get along because you're a bunny hybrid and he's a bear hybrid. 

 

He had found you in a small store just a few miles back about a week ago, so the both of you are still getting to know each other. 

 

He pauses for a second once he gets under the treehouse before climbing up the tree and climbing in through the window. 

 

He sees you sit up and wiggle your nose before sniffling at him. 

 

He sees you relax and give him a relieved smile. 

 

“I'm so happy that you came back safe and sound.” You whisper softly before standing up from your small nest pile and walking over to him and wrapping your arms around Leon, hugging his head. 

 

Leon smiles and hugs you by wrapping his arms around your waist and gently rubbing large curves you have. 

 

"Well, aren't you affectionate today?” Leon says softly, even though he shouldn't make any comments about the affection you're giving him. 

 

When he first meant you, he was so grumpy that even though he brought you back, he basically ignored you for the first week unless both of you were hungry. 

 

You nuzzle him gently some more and whisper, “I just need your touch; I need something to ground me today.” 

 

Leon understands that feeling all too well, and he whispers, “I can do that, sweetheart.” 

 

You smile and kiss his cheek gently, her bunny tail wagging a little, and her floppy ears move a little from the small movement she made. 

 

Leon's tail twitches from the kiss, and he buries his face into the crook of her neck, holding her close. 

 

Hybrids need physical contact with each other, not all the time but most of the time. 

 

As Leon holds you, he freezes when he hears a snarl from down below. 

 

You whimper softly as you tighten your grip on Leon and watch as he opens a small door he made in the bottom of the treehouse to see a stumbling zombie walking, and he grabs a slingshot and hands it to you. 

 

You bite your lip nervously as you put a sharp rock into the slingshot before taking aim before letting go, which causes the sharp rock to fling into the zombies head. Killing it immediately. 

 

“Good job.” Leon praises before speaking again. “After you master the slingshot, I'll teach you the bow and arrows.” 

 

You nod with a blush. You had asked him to teach you how to fight when he asked you what weapon you wanted to use. You had said bow and arrow, and he said we'll start with the slingshot first, and after you master it, I'll teach you the bow and arrow. 

 

When you had asked why not just teach you the bow and arrow, he had answered because a slingshot is small and can be hidden on you with a bow. 

 

You understood in that moment what he meant—Zombies weren't the only enemies.

 

Few weeks later

 

Over the past few weeks. 

 

You and Leon had gotten much closer; you both cuddled at night and played with each other's hair on a lazy day. 

 

He had also been teaching you bow and arrow after you mastered the slingshot. 

 

“Leon?” You ask softly as you play with your floppy bunny ears. 

 

Leon hums softly as he sharpens his machete. 

 

“How would you feel about us becoming mates?” You ask nervously. 

 

Leon pauses his movements and looks at you in shock before asking, “You wanna be my mate?” 

 

You nod with a blush. 

 

Leon licks his lips gently before standing up and walking over to you, and he whispers, “I would like that very much.” 

 

You look at him in shock before smiling and wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering softly, “I'm glad.” 

 

Leon licks his canine teeth before sinking his teeth into your neck, marking you forever. 

 

You let out a whimper, holding onto him tightly before sinking your own teeth into him, marking him forever. 

[some-loozzr]

"How it all started..."

3 kids found dumpster diving near a satay restaurant for some food. Though, after finding out about the KND, they were interested. Another group of kids fighting against adults? Heck yeah! Buuut one problem, they weren't exactly...."trained" enough. Sooo after being put in the Artic Base (and given proper clothes), they tried their best and finally made it! despite them almost killing every cadet uhhh

After Sector BI was official, they got along pretty fast despite not having a lot in common. Melati became Sector Leader due to Raya not wanting to take charge over everything and Aliya....y'know that girl isn't good under pressure.. Since their country is VERY far away from the US, they can't get much supplies shipped to them so you know what they resorted to? Stealing. Taking harvests. stealing clothes from random kids across they're neighborhood, and even stealing parts of random buildings or properties to build their own treehouse, making the residents paranoid of them. Despite being seen as "Little Annoying Thieves" from the residents, they're actually pretty nice once you get to know them!

Even until now, their friendship stays as strong as ever! despite not being the best at their jobs