#you are not here to conform; you could be the eye of the storm

[errorsystemfailure]

ye olde tag dump

sorry for this again

[sleeplesssmoll]

HC: What if Vertin is actually less human presenting but it's harder to tell because of her suit?

For example, there are a lot of human passing arcanists like Sonetto, Matilda, Melania, etc. Then there are arcanists like Shamane and Pavia where you see them reveal inhuman qualities at Insight II. Even further down the line you have Getian and Jessica. Arcanists vary so much in shape and size (not unlike humans tbh who also have a lot of variation among our species).

Here is what I conjured up:

Vertin's Silver/gray hair and eyes have a reflective quality to them so they reflect the color of things around them. This would also explain the inconsistencies in her hair/eye color. Her hat reduces the effect since it covers her head and she usually hides on eye. This way humans don't freak out as their talking by then changing color due to changes in light around them. You'd also end up staring at your own reflection in her eyes if you stare too hard.

If you could take a mirror and weave it into threads, that's Vertin's hair. Eyes have similar effect, they're like pools of liquid mercury.

Vertin might be able navigate through dark caves, labyrinths, and streets at night because she has a better night-vision than most. If you shine a light on her in the dark, her eyes do a that thing where they light up a like a cats. Just Sonetto lighting up the kitchen with her wand and Vertin's there nomming Picrasma candy like a naughty cat who got into the treat jar.

Then what about her suit? Maybe Vertin can temperature regulate like Sonetto, AEB her crossing the dessert in it, but she's sensitive to sun? The actual UV is bad for her skin if she's out there too long. Also her hair color is not good for protection either since she has negative melanin (this would also go for her eyes and be another reason for hat).

Or you could go further off the deep end. Embrace the arcanists blood!

What if Vertin barely even has body hair so she's more vulnerable if she doesn't cover up? What if you can see arcane shenanigans under her skin so she covers it up in public? Like her veins being a weird color instead of the blue-green humans are used too. Or maybe it's her overall body type in general?

Sonetto's parade uniform is shows off more skin. The Foundation...knows that she's pretty. They know what they're doing. There was even a trail about them using pretty girls as a distraction toward the beginning of the game. While her normal uniform covers up everything, the Foundation can make exceptions.

So what if Vertin's body doesn't conform to what humanity accepts? She has a lot of androgynous features and a lot of humans we see in-game like to put things in boxes. However, there's no box for people like Vertin who show a mixture of masculine and feminine features (although we see a more than few arcanists carry these traits). Because the Foundation wants humans to feel comfortable with arcanists, it's easier to only show off things they'll accept and quietly tuck away the things that they might not be as open too. Now that Vertin isn't a little kid anymore, those contradictory features are going to be more obvious. While Vertin is free to pick her own outfits, the stigma is still there. It actually gets worse with each Storm too.

In a world like that it might be easier to navigate to cover up as much as possible so people don't have time to dwell on what you look like underneath. Perhaps arcanists don't have that same obsession of what's going on underneath other people's clothes but they are subjected to it.

What if arcanists react to the full moon? Pavia needs to howl at it. Sonetto gets restless. Druvis NEEDS to bask in it and won't be interrupted. Then how does Vertin react? Turning into an Udimo? Big naps? Or she doesn't sleep at all. She becomes a menace! Becomes super strong! Or just lays on the floor and cries.

I forgot where I was going with this but here we are.

Embrace the arcanist blood and give me your "arcanist Vertins"! I will consume.

[reaper2187]

Cairo sweet x female reader

As the school bell rings, a cacophony of chatter fills the hallways, mingling with the light scent of morning coffee and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Amidst this teeming sea of students, you find yourself drawn to a solitary figure perched on a windowsill near the library.

Her name is Cairo Sweet, and your gaze lingers on her with a curious mix of fascination and trepidation. Her face, framed by a cascade of raven hair, is a canvas of exquisite features: piercing brown eyes that seem to hold a depth beyond her years, a delicate nose, and a mouth that curves into a mysterious smile.

As your eyes connect, you feel an unexpected surge of kinship. She is an enigma, an outsider, like you

 You have always felt like a square peg in a round hole, never quite fitting in with the preppy girls who gossip and giggle in the cafeteria. But in Cairo's gaze, you sense a glimmer of understanding.

With a hesitant step, you approach her. 'Excuse me,' you say softly. 'I'm new here. I couldn't help but overhear that you're Cairo Sweet. My name's [Your Name].'

A faint smile crosses her lips. 'Nice to meet you, [Your Name].'

You sit down beside her, your notebooks open in front of you. The silence between you is comfortable, almost inviting. As the minutes turn into hours, you share stolen glances, whispered secrets, and dreams that have long been buried within.

Cairo tells you about her life before Miller's Creek, her nomadic childhood, and her passion for writing. You, in turn, confide in her about your own struggles and aspirations. For the first time, you feel truly seen and understood.

As the day draws to a close, you and Cairo walk together to your lockers. Your fingers brush against hers, and a spark ignites within you. It is a spark of connection, a desire to be near her, to explore the forbidden realms that lie beyond friendship.

But your burgeoning feelings are met with trepidation. This is high school, after all, and societal norms dictate that girls should only date boys. You fear the repercussions of breaking these unspoken rules.

Undeterred, Cairo leans in and whispers, 'I think you're amazing, [Your Name]. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.'

Her words embolden you. You take her hand and lead her to an empty classroom. The soft glow of the setting sun filters through the windows, casting a warm and intimate light upon the two of you.

With trembling lips, you confess your feelings. To your surprise, Cairo reciprocates. Her kiss is gentle, tentative, and yet filled with an undeniable longing.

In that stolen moment, time stands still. The world outside fades away, leaving only you and Cairo, two hearts entwined in a secret dance of love.

As you reluctantly pull away, Cairo whispers, 'This is against the rules, but it feels so right.'

You smile. 'Maybe we're destined to be rebels.'

Your secret rendezvous becomes a solace amidst the turmoil of high school. You carve out hidden corners in the library, linger in the shadows of the hallways, and steal precious moments together on deserted benches. Your love grows stronger with each stolen kiss, each whispered promise.

But the walls of silence cannot hold indefinitely. Rumors spread like wildfire, and soon you find yourselves at the center of a storm of gossip and condemnation. Some students whisper words of support, but many more cast judgment upon your forbidden love.

As the pressure mounts, you and Cairo face an impossible choice. You could deny your feelings and conform to societal expectations, or you could embrace your love and risk the consequences.

Together, you choose the latter. Hand in hand, you walk through the hallways, ignoring the disapproving stares and hurtful comments. Your love is a beacon of defiance, a testament to the power of the human heart.

In the end, your resilience and unwavering bond silence the critics. Cairo and [Your Name] become a symbol of hope and acceptance for all who dare to love beyond the confines of societal norms.

And as the years go by, your love story becomes a legend whispered among the students of Miller's Creek, a tale of two girls who dared to defy the odds and find happiness in the most unexpected of places.

[konigbabe]

LUCKY PICK

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader Word count: 3.1k Tags/warnings: no y/n; gambling; smut; public sex; pure filth; getting caught; p-in-v; unprotected sex; Toji's a little bit of a meanie; blowjob; pussy slapping (like once) Summary: Toji's frequent presence at the boat races doesn’t go unnoticed by your observant gaze. Every time you see him, however, luck seems to elude him, leaving him on the losing end; until you offer the man assistance in selecting a boat–lucky you, he wins. So he finds a way to thank you properly.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

Amidst the kaleidoscope of social strata, one thing that sticks out for you: his shoes.

While some attendees adorn themselves in lavish, bespoke suits, busy with their own affairs while the events before them serve as a mere backdrop, others, those less fortunate, come in more casual in hopes to earn some quick money.

He, on the other hand, is rather glaring with his choice of clothing. Too casual. Insouciant. Black tracksuit, something more fitting for a morning jog or a workout at the gym. The fabric seems slightly worn, a faint stain on the sleeve. His shoes, however, are the most intriguing part of his ensemble. They stand out. Like a flash of lightning on a stormy night.

In a sea of polished leather and high-end dress shoes, he wears a pair of scuffed, worn flip-flops. It's not just the stark contrast between his flip-flops and the elegant footwear of others that piques your interest. Rather the aura of confidence and a nonchalant demeanor that could easily be mistaken for arrogance.

Even for the outfit, he’s rather handsome. Raven hair tumbling down just to his ears, framing the chiseled planes of his face. The faint scar on the corner of his right lip only adds to the air of mystery surrounding him.

In contrast to the meticulously groomed individuals around him, his appearance carries an air of authenticity. As if he doesn't conform to societal norms but carves his own path instead.

He’s here often. Twice a week. A clockwork of unwavering routine. A regular fixture. Each time, he places his bet on the same number. It’s always three. No regard for any other possibilities. He’s staying the whole day, watches all the races and loses his money. Each and every time.

You stand on the stairs leading to the ticket vending machines, overlooking the racers warm up around the buoy. People passing by until he’s here again. In the same outfit, with the same aura of disregard, detachment.

He passes you as well. A solid wall, going straight, no disregard whether you move out of the way or not. Makes you take a step aside. You know he’s here to lose again. Letting out a grunt, an annoyed huff of air, your voice carries through the loud environment when his bicep brushes your shoulder.

"Here to lose again?"

It makes him stop. Look you dead in the eyes. You can feel the steel behind his eyes as he studies you. Tries to understand why someone like him – a man who’d been losing every race for months – is being confronted by someone like you, someone with nothing more than a passing interest in the track and its races.

For a moment, time seems to slow down as his gaze locks with yours. His eyes, like storm-touched steel, easily likened to polished basalt, peer out from under strong, dark eyebrows. Hooded. Locked onto yours. A thunderous downpour.

He stays silent for solid few seconds. Possibly aiming to intimidate you into leaving him alone. Yet, he fails as you stand tall next to him; not backing down or wilting away under his scrutiny.

"Who says I’m here to lose," he retorts, a touch of defiance in his voice. The hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he studies you, perhaps trying to gauge your intentions.

As you arch an eyebrow, you remark, "I haven’t seen you win yet. You've been betting on the same number, sir, every time I've seen you here. And from what I've observed, you haven't had much luck."

His brows furrow momentarily before he responds with a knowing smirk, matching your aura with his own brand of dry wit.

"Luck has nothing to do with it. Besides, one day, that number will hit."

His confidence is almost infectious, and despite the peculiar choice of his attire and betting strategy, there's an air of genuineness in his words.

"Then why don’t you bet for other numbers," your body pivots to face him, arms crossed over your chest, "try it," you hold your chin high, " buy a place-show, numbers four and six."

To your suggestion of trying other numbers, the man chuckles softly, seemingly amused by the idea, "and why would I do that?"

"You have better odds with the place-show ticket rather than the win ticket," you explain with a shrug, "and if you lose, you’ll have someone else to aim your anger at."

He smirks, nodding thoughtfully as if considering your proposition. "Ah, you're one of those logical types, ain’t ya? Always calculating the odds an’ playing it safe."

You chuckle at the characterization, appreciating his keen observation. "I haven’t lost in a long time. Plus," you blatantly look him up and down, "I have a feeling you could use some luck, and maybe a touch of charm wouldn't hurt either."

He raises an eyebrow, the faint scar on his lip accentuating the mischievous glint in his eye. "Charm, huh? What's in it for you?"

Flashing a grin at his question (it's a valid one, after all), you meet the playful spark in his laden eyes.

"Oh, nothing much," you reply, feigning nonchalance, a familiar mask that you wear to try to stifle the faint tremor of fear, "let’s just say if you win, you’ll owe me a favor."

One moment, you were sitting a few seats next to the man, a winning ticket grasped between your fingers; both watching the race unfold before your eyes.

Next, a subtle, self-assured grin spreads over his face as the winning numbers are announced.

("Would ya’ look a’that.."

"Who would’ve thought…")

And then, flicker in time. You find yourself in an alleyway, still at the stadium and next to a dumpster. Away from the fanfare of the racetrack. A putrid stench of decaying food still in the air overpowered by the potent, heady musk of Toji’s body as the concrete scrapes against your naked knees. Uncomfortable and rough.

Pants lowered down only enough for his cock to spring free; the tip glistening with pearls, a byproduct of his pleasure. Lifting your head slightly, you dip down to kiss the dew away as your hand, wet with precum and spit, moves over his length, pads tracing every curve and ridge.

Lips swollen. Jaw hurting from the tight fit, Toji’s fingers grip the top of your head; urging you to take him in deeper, feel him heave in your mouth. Careless to the fact you should need air. But at this moment, looking up and seeing his eyes already boring into yours, oxygen’s the last thing on your mind.

"That’s it," his husky froan reverberates in your ears as his thumb traces the arch of your eyebrow before his hand cups your cheek, cradles your face, "atta girl."

His words cause heat flooding into your core. A warmth to blossom from deep within. Feeling your heart thudding between your legs, you press your thighs together more. Fingers moving along the exposed, wet slit before pushing one in—

It’s barely a stretch. Disappointing.

—then two.

Letting his cock from your mouth, the sweetness lingering on your tongue as you move the top of your tongue along the underside of his head. Glistening, painfully swollen and painfully red. Hand gliding over the length, thumb pressing onto the sensitive slit, causing a stream of Fuck, Goddamn and your name stream from his bruised lips.

Spit-covered lips trace the underside of his cock, leaving a glossy trail behind. With a trembling breath, he taps your temple.

"Up."

You don’t even register his command before a hand encloses your arm, effortlessly lifting you on your feet.

"Wait," you squeal, a mixture of surprise and trepidation when he crunches down. Putting a hand instinctively on his shoulder to steady yourself, you feel the taut muscle, finely sculpted and responsive to his movements. Fingers gripping your ankle with determined strength; in one deft motion, he liberates your leg from the confines of the pant leg (and carelessly leaves the other be).

For a moment, you feel like a child again – pushed around, a small puppet, being dressed and undressed by another's hands.

It’s all happening too fast yet not swiftly enough.

His lips brush over your dripping core. Gives it a lick. A taste of your sweetness, humming in appreciation when your juices coat his tongue, lips, chin. And when you push your hips into his face, shamelessly chasing the feeling of his tongue – he stands back up. Palm making a benign impact with your swollen core, leaving you gasping from the sudden jolt of pain.

"Maybe ‘nother time," he speaks up. Hand grasping your ankle, resting it against his shoulder, heel digging into his collarbone, foot beside his face. Teeth grace your ankle, the wet tip of his tongue darting to lick a stripe over the fibula. All while his fingers spread the wetness leaking out of you, fingertips tracing your opening, teasing the entrance with his pads.

"Someone’s a lil’ eager."

You feel the blunt press. Too thick for his fingers.

The head of his cock spreads you open. You fight the urge to close your eyes, lean onto the brick wall barely touching your back. Instead, you force your gaze to remain on Toji’s face; his eyes hooded, barely open but piercing through you as he pushes forward. Slowly.

His hips push forward, fighting the resistance as you welcome the feeling. Heart racing, a groan leaves your lips when Toji grips your waist and pulls you onto him. Cock grazing your sensitive walls, you watch his eyes close in a blissful moment momentarily.

A feeling of triumph washes over you – you managed to capture the beast itself in its most vulnerable state.

Then he snaps. Gets impatient. And if it wasn’t for the hand on your waist, you’d certainly lose balance with the raw, almost inhuman strength with which he thrusts into you.

"Ugh—fuck, oh God," eyes closed, you succumb to the feeling; shallow, deep thrusts slowly speeding up, turning into something more resembling a pounding. Savage.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, fingers digging into the fat of your hips before moving upwards, cupping your clothed breast, thumb flicking your erect nipple, "told ya it’s Toji."

It goes like this. You try to steady yourself on one foot, clinging onto Toji’s arms as if he’s your beacon. Mouth agape, you rest your forehead on his collarbone. The hamstring in your leg feels close to ripping apart when his hand slides onto your thigh, providing a reassurance that makes the ache between your legs flare up with ardent fervor.

Toji pulls and pushes — forcing your body to twist, spinning you around to the point where your hands can rest on the wall. One leg’s still on the ground while the other is held against his broad chest. All while his thrusts remain merciless.

He fills you up, the fat head of his cock pressing against your depths, stretching you wider and deeper than before. Shameless squelching filling your ears whenever he bottoms out. Pulls out only halfway, his cock glistening with your juices and his precum when it almost slips free. Coaxing moan after moan from you.

"Damn," he stops, cock buried to the hilt and you feel the pads of his fingers swipe over your clit. Moving down, to the place you two are connected, "feel that?"

Wetness; his fingers dip between your folds, trace your core.

"Look at that."

And you look — wishing that maybe you didn’t. He scissors his fingers before your face, showing off the sticky substance connecting his fingers, glistening in the daylight. Heat shoots up your whole body when his smug face watches your reaction, a sly grin spreading on his lips when a moan comes out of you.

His thrusts come back without warning. Deep. He pulls you back into his cock.

It’s blissful. Euphoric. But painful.

"Can’t," you breath out, feeling close to cramping, "m’not that flexible."

"Oh really," he remarks. Yet, his grasp loosens on your body.

It feels like hours have passed with the way Toji ruts into you. Truly living up to the expectations one would’ve expected from a man his build and reputation.

Bend over, palms flat against the rough surface of the brick wall, Toji relentlessly pounds into you. The spongy head of his cock feels as if it’s breaching the opening of your cervix, mingling pain and pleasure in a confusing mix.

"Hey," a high-pitched voice startles you, Toji’s pelvis kissing the flesh of your ass as he buries himself to the brim, "What you doin’ there?!"

His hand moves from the arch of your back, fingers burning as they trace onto your hip. Squeezing, locking you against him.

"Takin’ a piss," Toji remains unfazed. Voice laced with a subtle hint of boredom while his cock pulsates inside you.

Taking a hand off the wall, you slap it across your mouth. Gentle fear of even your breaths being heard (and it doesn’t matter that you are good ten meters from the passerby).

"The toilets are right over there," the man shouts, making you question whether he’ll take a step toward you.

You’re aware that for a passerby, your figure is hidden behind the dumpster and unless Toji thrusts into you, it would look as if the man is simply relieving himself in the alley. Still fully clothed, only the front of his pants down enough for his cock to be free, one might think he’s telling the truth.

Silence falls onto you, forcing your head to turn to the side. Neck straining, you look over your shoulder – Toji’s unphased, nonchalant demeanor combined with the overly muscular physique visible even with loose clothes on radiates authority. Brutality. His demeanor serene; a tranquil lake at dawn. It would frighten you as well if you weren’t impaled on his cock.

His head lurches to the left, eyes locking onto the poor man's soul with an intense and penetrating gaze. It might be enough to scare the man away. To leave you alone.

That’s when he pulls back. Only an inch, mere centimeters but still enough to thrust back with rough intent. Body jolting forward, a surprised yelp gets muffled by your hand. Heat ripples through you.

He’s shameful, you realize. Salacious with his indecency.

The corners of his lips turn upward. Not enough for the passersby to see but from your point of view, it only fuels the sadistic image of the man behind you. The man whose cock keeps massaging your walls with shallow, almost non-existent thrusts.

How dare he.

"Whatever."

Loud footsteps echo through the alley before Toji’s fingers curl around your nape and he yanks. Hand pushing against the lower of your back, the other moving to the side of your neck as he twists your body into his own, pliant toy. Into a position he desires.

"Damn–," he breaths against the hairs on the back of your neck, chill breath washing over the shivering area, "does that turn ya’ on? Being watched?"

He pulls back at a leisurely pace. Unhurried. In and out.

"Fucked dumb on my dick–"

In and out.

"–while some loser watches your drippin’ cunt soak me."

Hitting that sweet, sensitive but delicate spot deep inside you; that even your fingers cannot reach. The one that makes you see stars, feel the heat in your core spread.

"Shut up," you basically snarl, pushing your ass into his crotch with fervor, forcing him deeper, causing his breath to hitch with his lips brushing over your burning skin, "shut up."

He chuckles at that. Licks a stripe over your shoulder. Moves to the side of your neck before his teeth sink into the earlobe, tugging.

"Could feel you squeezin’ me back then," the hand on the side of your neck inches forward; now resting firmly against the front of your neck, a silent reminder of the power it wields. The pressure is gentle but firm, a subtle yet unmistakable display of control. All while Toji matches your rhythm, thrusting at a pace that gets you closer to the sweet abyss.

Your hand moves from the wall, slides over the curve of your belly and find its place between your legs.

"Close ‘em," Toji’s thrusts grow in intensity. Forcing your body forward – to prevent falling, his hand on your back moves to rest against the wall, trapping your delicate hand underneath the roughness of his palm, the other holding you close by the neck.

"Ugh–wh–what," you barely breathe out, legs straining to keep the pace as the heat spreads.

"Your legs. Close ‘em."

And you do. Pushing your thighs together, a whole new sensation surges through your body as his cock fills you up. And it seems Toji feels the same by the way your name leaves his lips in a heavy groan, forehead resting against the crown of your head.

"Fuck yeah," he sighs, palm kneading the flesh of your ass. He’s pushing his hips against yours. Pulls you back into him with fingers itching to your aching nub. Finger flicking over it, making you shudder and moans to grow louder.

The coil in your abdomen grows tighter with each flick of his finger, kiss of his cock. Breath catching in your throat, you push back against Toji when the searing bliss washes over you.

He fucks you through it all.

"Gonna cum," you feel him thicken, pulse inside you. Hips stuttering, speeding and growing in intensity as he chases his own high.

"Not inside," you don’t struggle. Let him absolutely destroy you.

And he listens. Gives you few more fucks before he pulls out. Fists his cock, eyes watching your dripping, swollen pussy before you feel the sticky globes land on your core, slide down your clenching thighs.

He groans behind you. Hand resting on top of your ass, thumb caressing the skin there as you try to catch your breath. All while the man seems only slightly fazed by all the fucking. Makes you feel weak, pathetic — looking like you’d done a full workout while he’s standing behind you.

You stand back up. Wipe the cum off with a tissue you dig from your bag before pulling your pants back up, breath still slightly labored.

"Was this what I owed you?"

He fixes his pants, adjusting the waistband to hug the defined muscles of his lower abdomen, fleshing you his happy trail.

You shake your head to which his eyes narrow softly, "I want to hire you, Mr Fushiguro," hands fixing the mess on top of your head, you turn your back to The Sorcerer Killer, "take the win as your upfront payment."

[mykuup]

Of bone and bloom - Cryptid!Eddie Munson AU Part 2

Moodboard + summary (taglist open)

My masterlist

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 soon

Summary : After you survived your little walk in the forest, all you could think about was the beast who spared you. The nighmare he was became your daydream so you decided to do something about it.

wc : 1,2k

Warnings : monster romance // fluff // smut // MDNI // unprotected piv (wrap it irl guys) // mention of injuries // mention of blood // size gap // no mention of y/n // porn with plot // afab reader (but no description)

A/n : Sorry it took so long for the story to starts but we're finally here! Idk if this can be considered a slow burn??? But the smut will arrived later in the story. I hope you will enjoy this fic nonetheless. If you do, pleaase consider a like, comment or a reblog, thank you 💜

As always, all my love goes to @saphirmoraitie for beta reading

Taglist : @jasminelafleur @maedesculpaeusoubi

Meeting you again

The days following your first encounter with Eddie were filled with restless nights and a mind consumed by questions. You couldn’t shake the memory of him—the towering figure with the deer skull, the dark eyes that seemed to see through you, and the strange, inexplicable pull you felt toward him. The fear that had gripped you during that first meeting had been powerful, but something else had lingered beneath it—a sense of unfinished business, of something left unresolved.

You had tried to push it all from your mind and return to the routines of village life, but each passing day only deepened your obsession. You replayed your encounter over and over, searching for meaning in every detail. Why had he spared you? Why had he retreated into the shadows instead of attacking? And why, despite everything, did you feel drawn to him?

You knew you had to go back.

Your family and the villagers wouldn’t understand, of course. They would call you foolish, reckless, or even mad. But you had never been one to conform to their expectations. There was something in the forest calling to you, something you needed to confront and understand. And so, against all reason, you found yourself returning to the place where your life had changed.

It was late afternoon when you ventured back into the woods, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows through the trees. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, and the forest seemed to hum with life. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs heightened your senses. The fear that had once dominated your thoughts was now mingled with anticipation, a strange excitement that quickened your pulse.

You followed the same path you had taken before, your footsteps more confident this time, driven by a purpose you didn’t fully understand. As you ventured deeper, the world of the village faded away, replaced by the ancient, primal presence of the forest. You sensed you were getting closer, even though you didn’t know how.

It was as if the forest itself was guiding you.

As you approached the spot where you had first seen him, your heart began to pound, the memory of that encounter flooding back. You slowed your pace, your breath coming in shallow gasps, every sense on high alert. The forest was silent, the usual chorus of birds and insects strangely absent, as if the world were holding its breath, waiting.

Then you saw him.

Eddie emerged from the shadows, his form materializing like a wraith from the darkness. He was exactly as you remembered—tall, imposing, with the skull of a great deer and antlers that seemed to catch the last rays of the dying sun. His dark, unreadable eyes locked onto yours the moment you stepped into the clearing.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the memory of your first encounter hanging like a storm cloud overhead. But this time, you didn’t flinch or look away. You had come here for a reason, though you couldn’t fully articulate it, and you weren’t about to turn back now.

Eddie’s gaze was intense, piercing through you with an almost predatory focus. He recognized you immediately—the girl who had dared to speak to him, who had not run away in terror as so many others had. But what were you doing here again? Had you come to challenge him, defy him, or simply tempt fate?

You took a tentative step forward, your hands trembling slightly but your resolve firm. “I’m not here to harm you,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear gnawing at the edges of your mind. “I just… I needed to see you again.”

Eddie remained silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. Your words were unexpected, disarming him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Humans didn’t seek him out; they ran, they hid, or they hunted him. But you… you were different. There was no malice in your eyes, only curiosity, perhaps even concern.

He took a step back, his massive form moving with a grace that belied his size as if giving you space, yet watching your every move. He didn’t fully understand why he hadn’t driven you away already. The part of him that still remembered his duty and his curse urged him to chase you off, to maintain the isolation that had defined his life for so long. Yet another part, buried deep beneath the centuries of anger and solitude, was curious about you—a curiosity that was both dangerous and irresistible.

You saw his retreat as a sign, a tentative acceptance, and it emboldened you. You took another step closer, your gaze never leaving his. “You saved me,” you said softly, remembering how he had spared your life. “But why? You could have killed me, but you didn’t. Why?”

Eddie didn’t answer— he couldn’t answer. Words were no longer his domain. Yet something in the way you spoke, the honesty in your voice, resonated with him. He had saved you, not out of mercy but because something within him had recognized something in you. A connection, a flicker of the humanity he had lost so long ago.

You hesitated, searching his eyes for any sign of understanding. “I don’t know what you are, or why you’re here,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly. “But I want to know. I want to understand.”

Eddie’s eyes obscured at your words, old anger flaring up briefly. Understanding? There was no understanding of what he was or what he had become. He was a monster, a cursed being bound to the forest by a fate he had never asked for. And yet… you didn’t see him that way. Or, if you did, you weren’t repelled by it.

As you drew closer, you could see the raw power in his form, the way his muscles tensed beneath the fur, the claws that could tear you apart in an instant. But you also saw something else—an ancient sadness, a loneliness that mirrored your own. You had felt isolated all your life, different from those around you, never quite fitting in. Now, in this creature, you saw a reflection of that same solitude, magnified a thousandfold.

You reached out slowly, your hand trembling as you extended it toward him. It was a gesture of trust and connection—a bridge between two worlds that had been separated for too long. Eddie watched your hand, his instincts screaming at him to pull away, to retreat into the darkness where he belonged. But something kept him rooted in place, a strange compulsion he couldn’t resist.

Your fingers brushed against the fur on his arm, and a shiver ran through him—not from fear, but from something else, something he hadn’t felt in centuries. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it carried with it a warmth he had long forgotten. He had been alone for so long, isolated by his curse and the fear he instilled in others. But you weren’t afraid.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled as if ready to spring. But he didn’t pull away. Encouraged, you let your hand rest gently against his arm, your thumb brushing over the coarse fur. “I don’t believe you’re just a monster,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the forest. “There’s more to you than that. I can feel it.”

Eddie’s breath hitched, a low growl rumbling in his chest, not out of anger but from something else—confusion, perhaps, or an emotion he couldn’t quite name. No one had ever spoken to him like this, seeing him as anything other than a beast. Your words stirred something deep within him, something he had buried long ago.

He didn’t know how to respond, or if he could. But as he stood there, feeling the warmth of your hand against his skin, a part of him—an ancient, forgotten part—wanted to believe you.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Eddie began to relax. His claws retracted slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he allowed himself to accept your touch. It was a small gesture, but it was the first step toward something he couldn’t fully understand, something that both frightened and intrigued him in equal measure.

You smiled a soft, tentative smile that reached your eyes. You didn’t know what would happen next or where this strange connection might lead, but you knew one thing: you were no longer afraid. Whatever Eddie was, whatever darkness he carried within him, you would face it, not with fear, but with the same courage that had brought you back to the forest.

And at that moment, beneath the shadow of the ancient trees, something shifted between you —an unspoken understanding, a fragile bond forged in the quiet of the wilderness. It was the beginning of something neither of you could have predicted, something that would change both of your lives forever.

[kquil]

PLATONIC SIRIUS AND REGULUS BLACK | 14:10 ⏤TWO EMPTY CASKETS

SUM. : your life as regulus black's twin sister and the only daughter of the noble and most ancient house of black.

G. : angst ; reader is regulus's twin sister ; no romance

LENGTH : 0.7k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

Growing up as the only daughter of the noble and most ancient house of Black, you determined early on in life that you were never destined for happiness. That was bearable, however, because you had your brothers. They were your only solace. One, your protector, the other, your platonic other-half. 

Nevertheless, as time passed, those same consoling figures grew apart and a once unintelligible rift in their bond had become a crumbling tower that all but collapsed before you even reached 15 years old. 

Sirius had run away and left you and Regulus in the house that wasn’t a home to any of you. You couldn’t blame him; if you had the same courage, you would have done the same. That was the only comforting thought you could muster to quell the bitter ache sprouting from the flagrant, indisputable fact that Sirius had practically abandoned you and your twin brother. 

From there, you and Regulus had become one another’s comfort, the pillar both of you knew you could rely on when close to your own collapse, whether emotional or physical. You treated his wounds, he treated yours and as twins, you never could have been closer. 

There was a noticeable acrid flame alight in Regulus however, that pushed Sirius further and further away while you remained unemotional over the ordeal. Your twin was rightfully hurt by the one figure he had always looked up to and you needed to be the neutral calm to his torrential storm of acrimonious sorrow. He was silent about it, speaking through his actions and rebellion against Sirius through the conforming of your parents’ ideals. They were overwhelmingly proud when he took the mark but you worried inexhaustibly; you knew that if Regulus had a choice he wouldn’t have chosen such a path and you knew that if Sirius was still here then maybe…

You steeled yourself and leaned into your twin brother’s back, your forehead between his shoulder blades as your arms wrapped around his waist. He grew to be a silent man who spoke through actions rather than words and so you had built this silent habit to comfort him wordlessly. All Regulus needed was to feel that someone, someone tangible and who was right beside him was always going to be there despite being out of sight. He appreciated your actions deeply. 

Sirius, caught up in the distractions of his friendship, neglected to see the flat coldness that consumed your mannerisms, your silhouette and once bright eyes. Gone was his sweet sister who sought comfort in him, instead you stand on your own, strong but terribly alone. He had also failed to acknowledge the deep hurt reflecting in his only brother’s eyes. They plead him to notice, to look his way and miss the past, to, somehow, rekindle a past bond that was so strong it won against all that stood before it. But it never came. Sirius never once looked and a cold steel metal accumulated in Regulus’s bones. There was no point. 

But that wasn’t true. Sirius did look. And he did notice. But something held him back, perhaps it was his own cowardice, maybe it was because he was still taking the time to come to terms with the fact that things were never going to be the same or maybe it was because of the shame he felt for having abandoned his younger siblings. He knew you and James exchanged brief letters concerning his condition, his happiness and wellbeing but those letters were quickly dwindling in frequency - Sirius couldn’t conclude whether he should feel relieved or saddened by that. 

It wasn’t until Regulus disappeared without a trace that Sirius felt a jolt inside him, pushing him forward to reach out and contact you regardless of any lingering emotions. However, he was delayed by the actions of war and soon was left in hysterics over your successive disappearance as well. 

Sirius couldn’t collect himself enough before he was barging back into 12 Grimmauld Place to confront the woman who, not only succeeded her husband, but her two youngest children as well. He demanded answers, his throat sore from the shouting and tears he shed. 

The only answer he was able to grasp was that after Regulus mysteriously disappeared and presumed dead, you had grown anxious and paranoid, determined to investigate his inexplicable death. You had raided Regulus’s room for answers and with your investigations and, perhaps even your bond as a twin, you followed what little traces Regulus had left behind.

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Walburga spat, “so she got herself killed too,” there was a visible lining of tears in her eyes - the nerve, “now I have to bury two empty caskets,”

A/N : I wrote this listening to skyfall by adele on repeat and after I cried my eyes out reading the angstiest fic I had ever read on ao3 - here's a link to it if you're interested but be prepared to cry: the last heir by smokingtulip

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains

NAVI.

[aslyfcx]

❝You don't have to be like everybody else, you don't have to fit into the norm, you are not here to conform. I am here to take a look inside myself, recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm...❞

This is an independent and mutuals only Zootopia, Nick Wilde, canon character blog! Heavily headcanon-based character. Mun’s Ollie (they/them pronouns). If you’d like to interact and/or spread the word around, feel free to like/reblog this promo if interested and I’ll come check ya out!

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[dandelion-blues]

Bittersweet Blood

About:

What if Sally Jackson was Loki Odinson? See Loki and Percy take the Marvel Universe by storm.

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Chapter 2, Part 1: The Sea Protects

Loki wakes up the next day clinging to Poseidon. He sighs, his bloodshot eyes, dried tear tracks, and dry throat greet him as he is raw from crying and sobbing into his lover's arms for most of the night. Poseidon appears to still be asleep (a rarity for the god to actually sleep), and Loki goes to grab some water, once again frustrated he had to seal his magic, but comforted he changed back to his original form for now, so he is in a physically conforming body for once. Especially since coming to Midgard when he's in a male mindset instead of his default as Sally physically all the time. 

He gulped the glass of water greedily down, the cool water refreshing and very much needed. He stares at the yellow light of the sun making its way through the cabin's windows as rain lightly drips down the window pane. Loki wondered if his late maternal grandfather Freyr was somehow looking at him, his essence now infused with the universe around him, as is the fate of all faded gods. He was, after all, the god of the sun, fertility, peace, and rain, and all those things were currently present. Loki thought it was an omen, a good or bad one Loki wasn’t sure of, though. Maybe his baby would join his grandfather as well. 'No! Stop, thinking about your baby's death, Loki!' 

Ugh, Loki's mood is in the gutter again. Maybe he can grab more sleep before Poseidon wakes up, so he doesn't have to think about anything anymore.

Unfortunately, once Loki got under the covers, careful not to wake Poseidon. All he could think about was his child's doom.

He knew that it wouldn't be easy to have this child, but he didn't think that his unborn child already had a death sentence on them. The child, If going by the prophecy, they will die when they are sixteen! They won't even make it to their first ᛈᚨᛋᛋᚨᚷᛖ ᛟᚠ ᚲᚺᛁᛚᛞᚺᛟᛟᛞ ("Passage of childhood"). 

They won't even make it anywhere close to adulthood, at least by going how Asgardians age (if the child will even age like an Asgardian!). Asgardians reach adulthood on their 500th birthday (or an equivalent of midgardian's 20th), and ugh Loki himself is only 1036! Equivalent to 25 for midgardians! He's too young to be a mother!

Loki won't even age an adult Asgardian year when this child's birth and death is set (which is every 100 years)! Loki can't breathe! It's too soon, he hasn't even had his child yet and he's going to lose them in a blink of an eye!

Loki thought he was done with his crying last night, but here it is again. Luckily, before Loki can get lost in his sorrows, strong arms wrap around him and hold him steady while he cries. Loki smells the soothing ocean, and he is glad his lover is right here with him.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Poseidon asks once Loki shaking and sobbing dies down.

Loki nods into Poseidon's chest and sighs into his embrace, "I just feel so incredibly overwhelmed, Poseidon. I don't know what to do, and I already feel like I'm mourning a child who isn't even born yet."

"Not to mention all the hardships this child will have to go through by being our child. Will they even have support from any gods aside from us? Or will their very existence have to remain a secret? Their powers and magic sealed away, lest other gods try and kill them?!" Loki yells frustrated.

Poseidon breathes deeply, troubled and worried for his child. However, he knows that not all gods will be against this child, perhaps it's time for Loki to meet some of his family.

"My star, I can't speak for all the gods, but I know not all will be against our child. While I do think the child will be safer with less people knowing their full heritage, as word will be less likely to spread, I know my wife Ampritrite and my son Triton are loyal to the sea, to me, and would never harm any of my children and I know they would help if they are informed of this dire situation."

"Your wife?! Wouldn't she be like Hera, and resent you and my child for being born of unfaithfulness."

Poseidon laughs, "My αγάπη (“love”)," he looks fondly into Loki's emerald eyes, so much like the jewel but more - filled with life and magic of the worlds, "We are Greek. We rarely conform to one lover. When Amphitrite agreed to be my queen, she agreed because she and I got to keep our freedom. We both take our own lovers from time to time. Sometimes we even find partners we both favor. However, we still love one another as husband and wife, as she is forever my queen, as I am her king."

Loki huffs but still feels a pang in his heart. He knew their love was temporary, but he still wants Poseidon’s comforting embraces and nicknames and love. However, he hides his pain by rolling his eyes, "You didn't think to tell me this before?"

"Like you didn't tell me that you were a god?" Poseidon shoots back playfully.

"Fair." Loki concedes.

"And you're sure that Amphitrite and Triton won't mind, and even help?" Loki asks worriedly, searching into Poseidon's eyes and finding the greens and blues of the calm ocean waves to be reassuring.

"Absolutely." Poseidon says with absolute certainty.

Notes:

My chapters here on Tumblr are going to be shorter than what will be posted on my Ao3 account for practicality.

I will link the Ao3 fic as well when I post it there.

Also, for how Asgardians age. They age normally until they reach 12, and then their age slows significantly (and will physically and mentally age a year for about every 61 years lived). Then, they reach adulthood at 500 (or 20 for us humans and will physically age a year for every 100 years lived).

First - Previous - Next Chapter

[namusthetic]

Marauders' Era

The Slytherin Skittles

From the Marauders' Era fandom. Decided to lounge about in the Slytherin common room? Join the Skittles for a late night Slytherin chat.

Regulus A. Black

"From far away I wish I'd stayed with you, but here face to face, a stranger that I once knew.

I thought if I wandered I'd fall back in love. You said distance brings fondness, but guess not with us."

- Astronomy, Conan Gray

Doesn't ask for help

Overachiever

Covers his deep insecurities with a god-complex

Abandonment and trust issues

Suffers panic and anxiety attacks, the others know exactly what to do when it happens and huddle around him, holding hands and grounding him, until he starts breathing normally again and stops shaking

Protective of his chosen family

Instead of fighting to keep people in his life, he lets them go because in the end he thinks he's never enough to stay for

Hates loud noises and making noise when moving or walking

Deeply misunderstood

Tries to remain detached and cold as much as possible because knows he'd end up caring too deeply

Self-isolates when he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings, luckily, whenever that happens, the others storm his usual hiding spots and force him to go outside and enjoy himself

Escapes from his own thoughts by reading or listening to music compulsively

Barty Crouch Jr.

"I used to like liquor to get me inspired but you look so beautiful, my new supplier. I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking, but I found a different buzz.

The world is a curse, it'll kill if you let it I know they got pills that can help you forget it, they bottle it, call it medicine, but I don't need drugs. 'Cause I'm already high enough, you got me, you got me good."

- High Enough by K. Flay

covers his need for attention and approval with loudness and chaos

Fear of missing out

Afraid that people will forget about him and leave him behind

Avoids talking and thinking about his own feelings

Cannot control his emotions when overwhelmed

Hides it when deeply hurt

Clingy drunk, cries if left by himself

Has a soft spot for pets, especially dogs (once he even accidentally cuddled Padfoot without knowing it was actually Sirius)

Hopeless romantic when in a serious relationship

Incredibly intelligent, he just doesn't want to please his father in any way so he acts out

Jokes about his trauma in public, but ends up sleeping in Evan's bed whenever he has nightmares

ADHD kid

Makes dirty jokes all the time but is afraid of having a stable relationship and not being enough for his partner

Evan Rosier

"And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute that I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight? That I'm fine even after I have died? Because it was in your arms I died.

I cry in the afterlife, I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive. I try to escape afterlife, I try hard to get back inside your arms alive."

- Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

Calm and collected most of the time

Silent anger

Insomniac, spends the nights reading and listening to chill music

Deadly afraid of spiders, always asks Pandora to take them outside

Energy drinks and caffeine

If looks could kill

Tries to keep everyone from getting in trouble together with Dorcas

Doesn't pay attention in class but gets good grades anyway

Grew up too quickly

Joins Barty and Dorcas whenever they are tipsy and start a singing contest

Likes nights out with friends, randomly walking with no precise destination, a few drinks in hand and the warmth of chosen family around him

The observant, silent one

Always carries small perfume vials since he can't stand smells (sweat, cigarette smoke, etc.)

Pandora Rosier

"You don't have to be like everybody else, you don't have to fit into the norm, you are not here to conform. I am here to take a look inside myself, recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm.

I am not my body, not my mind or my brain (ha), not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA. I am the observer, I'm a witness of life, I live in the space between the stars and the sky."

- Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA

Already figured who was going to end up in a relationship with whom years before it happened

Has a private gardening spot where she grows their own plants (especially herbs)

Follows the lunar calendar instead of the solar one, they all celebrate both new years with big parties

Wears long airy dresses with flower patterns and a dozen crystal necklaces and rings

Talks enthusiastically about everything she's passionate about with no restraints (and everyone loves listening to her talk)

Knows weird knowledge nobody knows from where

Walks Hogwarts' halls singing and with a spring in her step

Spends afternoons in the forest sketching fantastic beasts and feeding them treats

Loves making flower crowns, Regulus wears them whenever she makes one for him and hexes anyone who dares say something about it

Always has paint on her hands or face

Dorcas Meadowes

"Say my name, as every colour illuminates. We are shining, and we will never be afraid again.

And when we come for you, we'll be dressed up all in blue, with the ocean in our arms, kiss your eyes and kiss your palms.

And when it's time to pray, we'll be dressed up all in grey, with metal on our tongues, and silver in our lungs."

- Spectrum (Say My Name) by Florence and The Machine

Hates small talk and superficial friendships

Direct, immediately cuts straight to the point

Politically active against all kinds of discrimination and violence

Strong and determined to achieve what she wants

Ready to argue with anyone, anytime, anywhere

Knows exactly what she wants

Stays up late to read and listen to music in the common room

Has everything planned out

Neon lights and cocktails, loud music and cherry flavored lip balm

Travels a lot but is ready to return home immediately if one of her close friends needs her help

Elegant style, always impeccably dressed

Storms out of the dorm and takes a long walk whenever she feels she can't control her anger

Loves to listen to true crime podcasts

------------------------💚🐍

So I love the Marauders' gang, but (I don't know if you guessed it) I really have a soft spot for the Skittles. To me they feel like the ones who never really even had a chance to be saved, who were left to fend for themselves and to die just because of their families and house. They were damaged as much as the others but found no one to help them but each other.

[smallcanofworms]

MARINA’s “Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land” is the quintessential Lae’zel song and I WILL die on this hill

Plot spoilers below!!!

Act I:

“Our ancestors had to fight to survive

Just so we could have a chance of a life

We're not here so we can blow it all

We could bear witness to the rise and the fall…”

Act II:

“What's your purpose? Why were you put on Earth?

You could be lost, but you belong to the world

We're now living in a seminal age

The walls are being broken and we're ready for change…”

Act III:

“You don't have to be like everybody else

You don't have to fit into the norm

You are not here to conform

I am here to take a look inside myself…”

Post-game:

“RECOGNIZE THAT I COULD BE THE EYE OF THE STORM”

LIKE?? The pre-chorus and chorus alone could sum it up alone! It’s a good song by itself but putting into the context of the shit Lae’zel goes through by facing the harsh realities of being infected by her people’s worst enemy, learning that her goddess, her queen is nothing more than a true Lich out for power… it truly is ancient thoughts and actions being contrasted by the modern issues of Faerûn. I love this space lizard, she’s going through it.

[bonefall]

I wanted to ask something queer because it’s pride month but I can’t think of anything… do you have any queer bb rewrite stuff to talk about?

HERE, have a queer jumble of a bunch of the gay changes in BB;

As far back as DOTC, Thunder Storm was transmasc. His childhood best friend is also his lover; Lightning Cry.

There is a third gender in Clan Culture; Meewa. Gray Wing was Meewa and to this day, the role is associated with parenthood and wisdom.

Bumble and Turtle Heart were mates.

The Clanmew parental terms are decoupled from gender; the Mi is the primary parent, a Ba is a secondary.

For an example; Breezepelt is the Mi of his litters, Harestar and Heathertail were both Ba.

In Clanmew, Harestar had so many Ys in his warrior name (Yywayayiaoyyr) that Breezepelt got the kits to call him Yya.

Bluestar was queer. She had strange relationships with almost everything personal, but the only thing that matters is how much she LOVED her friends and how far she would go for them

The entire Forget-me-not friend group was queer in some ways.

And Bluestar’s friend Rosetail, turns out she's aromantic!

She loves romance, matchmaking, but eventually realized she doesn't like being in one. She just likes the idea a lot.

So of course Thistleclaw was PISSED when his sister claimed Queen’s Rights and adamantly refused to name a father.

She matched up her son Redtail with Runningwind, I like to think she was a very "when am i getting grandkits" kind of mom

Redtail was trans, but also gave birth to his children. That was Sandstorm and Longtail.

Redtail's transness was why Bluestar gave Dustpaw to him, she could see that Dust was working something out and hoped that Red would help

Dustpelt is genderqueer! He doesn't conform to the expectations of toms for his society; construction is largely a molly activity.

One-eye was a legendary builder in her time. It was a high honor when she came out of retirement to mentor him, when she was nearly 20 years old no less!

Cinderpelt was a lesbian, but there wasn't really anyone in the Clan she was interested in. Meh.

I do want to write a little scene where she goes to BloodClan to learn about mobility devices to help Wildfur, and has an AWOOGA moment at Cody

Leafpool and Mothwing are in love with each other, and look forward to every meeting. But they serve their Clans above all. The yearning.

I am very partial to Daisy x Squirrelflight, loooong in the future, after Squirrelflight has found fulfillment in her family and mentorships.

Conversely the untapped potential of Spiderleg x Bramblestar is unmatched. Nightmare husbands, this is the funniest thing I've ever heard of

Heartbreaking! the worst people you know have gotten gay married

Brokenstar and Runningnose were so gay I don't even have words for it, there's homosexual and then there's whatever the hell is going on over there

"My childhood best friend is a manifested curse and I would do anything for him, so I dedicated my whole life to becoming a more ruthless and brutal asset to serve his wants and desires, rejecting the stars and walking into the netherworld with glee, and only finding that it is hell because he isn't there. When you look between us, it's impossible to tell which of us was the monster, and which was the man, and yet I have never made a choice that I wouldn't make again."

Blackstar was aromantic! Russetfur was his lifelong best friend and partner, her death devastated him

He had flings and friends with benefits, though. Specifically, he's homosexual/aromantic.

Russetfur was gay too, I'm not sure if she ever had a wife though

I haven't drawn her yet but I see her as butch. Also she had large eyebrows.

Rowanclaw, honor sired for Newtspeck, was transtom

His apprentice, Talonclaw, survived the mauling because Smokefall did not die in the mountain this time around! They had a summer wedding

Irony struck when Rowan's kid Tigerheart also ended up being trans, but transmolly

Funny coincidence that everyone around Rowan ends up being queer

Tigerheart, who later becomes Heartstar, was in love with Dovewing from the moment they were apprentices on the Beaver Quest, before she even hatched

Dovewing dated Bumblestripe, even choosing him and ThunderClan over the instability of running off with Tigerheart

But when she got pregnant she SKEDADDLED

Lightleap and Shadowsight are biologically Bumble's, but Heartstar adopted them immediately

Heartstar is incredibly smug about this. "My wife. My kids. Cry about it"

Ivypool went through something similar, in a pretty bad relationship with Blossomfall and eventually getting with Fernsong

Only Fernsong is NOT smug, he's an ex-kittypet who joined during ThunderClan's Tempest and BOY HOWDY did he not want to make waves

But now he's dating the deputy's grandchild (thru Lionblaze), has an angry Blossomfall on his ass, and.... it's worth it lmao, have you seen his wife? Marvelous

He is the Mi of the children, this is the life for him

Thriftear and Plumstone are gay

Over in RiverClan, Hawkfrost and Reedwhisker were an item and were going to get serious... but then, well. Hawkfrost went through TNP and ended up dead.

In SkyClan, Violetshine, Dragonfly, and Tree are a polycule

I'm not quite sure what's going on with Echosong, Leafstar, and Billystorm. But Leaf and Billy are together, and I think Leaf has a thing with Echo. But Echo and Billy are not together, and Echo isn't involved with the kittens.

This isn't a queer thing but Sharptooth's wife Cherrytail was spayed. I think Hawkwing and co were surrogated by Echosong, but I'm not sure yet

But I do know that Cherry did not birth those kittens

Over in WindClan, I combined Jake and Sparrow into one character. Tallstar’s Collapse is reworked into Talltail traveling around with him and his group, until ultimately, he realizes it's not that easy to leave his Clan behind

I want to approach it as a tragedy, that he couldn't stay somewhere he was truly loved and happy

He was raising kids with Jake, two orphans they found. One of them followed him, even though he tried to tell him to stay with Jake and his sibling

That kid becomes Flytail, and then Flylight as an honor title

Sunstrike and Furzepelt are gay, and Furze is going to be an AVOS save thanks to Brushblaze, Breezepelt, Harestar, Heathertail, Crowfeather, and two more cats I haven't picked yet

Speaking of Brushblaze, Leo is an ex-BloodClan trader who joined WindClan to be with Onewhisker

It fell apart and he's been bitter about it ever since

Onestar is a disaaaaaaaster

He had a fling with Firestar before Fire realized he was aromantic, and it never would have worked anyway since Firestar was leading a clan

He always had an excuse for why he wasn't doing PDA with Brush, but while he was going through apprenticeship (despite being a qualified adult cat, very frustrating) Onewhisker was seeing Smoke

I kinda just want to remove Onewhisker having Whitetail as a mate entirely, I already fixed the apprenticeship thing but I kinda just like him having someone honor dam for him and he raised Heathertail alone

And lastly, Firestar

Firestar is totally aromantic.

He honor sired Sandstorm's kittens and raised them with her, because she is a deeply reliable friend and ally. They're in a QPR!

There's definitely a couple I missed (toadnettlepool, Sedgecreek x Greenflower) but that's enough for now

[misterbardman]

Songs on my favorite songs from my Falling from Olympus playlist, with lyrics, that just remind me of trials of Apollo:

•”I’ll blow up into smithereens and spew my tiny symphony all up and down the city street while tryna put my mind at ease. Like finishing this melody, this feels like a necessity, so this could be the death of me or maybe just a better me.” - Worlds Smallest Violin, AJR

•”You don’t have to be like everybody else, you don’t have to fit into the norm, you are not here to conform. I am here to look inside myself, recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm. I am not my body, not my mind or my brain, not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA.” - Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land, MARINA

•”They give so much to me, I’m losing touch, get me? Served on a silver platter, ask for seconds they just let me. They tell me I’m a god, I’m lost in the facade, six feet off the ground at all times, I think I’m feeling odd.” - My Ordinary Life, The Living Tombstone

•”Well, well, look who’s inside again. Went out to look for a reason to hide again. Well, well, buddy you’ve found it, now come out with your hands up we’ve got you surrounded.” - Look who’s inside again, Bo Burnham

•”You’re a loser, baby, a loser goddamn baby. You’re a fucked-up little whiny bitch, you’re a loser just like me. You’re a screw-is-loose loser and only one-star reviewer.” -Loser, baby, Hazbin Hotel

[corruptedcaps]

Hairpin Turn

Kayla stormed out of the principal's office, seething with anger. She couldn't believe she had just been expelled from school. She had always been able to get away with anything, but this time, it seemed, her luck had run out.

As she made her way down the hallway, Kayla spotted Victoria, the quiet, bookish girl she loved to bully. That’s when it clicked in her head how she got expelled. Kayla approached her with a scowl on her face.

"What did you do?" Kayla demanded, her voice dripping with contempt.

Victoria looked up from her book, her eyes wide with fear. "I didn't do anything," she stammered. "I swear."

"Don't lie to me," Kayla said, her voice rising. "You got me expelled, and I want to know how."

Victoria hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up. "I didn’t say anything Kayla! I never would, I promise! But maybe it’s better that you take a break from here?"

Kayla's face twisted into a sinister smile as she leaned in closer to Victoria. "You know what, since you want to play hero, I’ll just have to make you into the new villain around here. You can take my place as the school's resident bully while I'm gone," she said, her eyes glinting with malice.

Victoria recoiled in horror. "No, I could never do something like that," she said firmly, shaking her head.

Kayla's expression turned sinister. "Oh, but you won’t have to do a thing," she said, her voice low and menacing as she took out an ornate and sharp hair pin from her hair. "Let me help."

Suddenly, Victoria felt a strange sensation wash over her body as Kayla pricked her with the pin. She looked down in horror as her body began to deflate like a balloon, leaving her in a pile on the ground. She let out a scream of terror as Kayla cackled with glee.

Victoria tried to scream, but no sound came out. She could feel Kayla's eyes on her and hear her cackle with glee as she picked up her lifeless body with ease.

"Like my magical family heirloom? Thanks to it, you'll make a fine new outfit for me to wear," Kayla said, grinning wickedly as she stepped into Victoria’s mouth and began pulling it up over her body.

Kayla gasped as she felt the sensation of Victoria’s body conforming to her own. The more she put on, the more Victoria’s body became hers. However their body differences were having some interesting side effects. Kayla’s bigger tits and bigger ass stretched out and expanded Victoria’s meagre set. Kayla felt their now combined nipples hardening against the fabric of Victoria’s shirt, giving her an even more perfect pair than her own.

Kayla’s longer more pristine nails grew out of Victoria’s nail bitten and dirty ones. Her cheerleading muscles and toned stomach grafted perfectly onto Victoria’s flat, definition less body.

Finally Kayla slipped her head inside of Victoria’s mouth and adjusted her face until it sat perfectly on her own features. But like the other changes that had happened, Victoria’s face took on aspects of her bully’s face. Kayla’s medically enhanced pouty lips absorbed Victoria’s thin smile. Long thick eyelashes popped out from her eyelids. Even Victoria’s green eyes were now hidden behind Kayla’s bitchy brown pair.

Kayla walked over to the mirror and examined her new body with satisfaction. "Not bad," she said with a smirk. "I could get used to this." She ran her hands over her new curves, reveling in the power that her new form gave her.

Kayla chuckled to herself as she realized the full potential of her new form. "They'll never see me coming," she said, her eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity. "No one will suspect little old Victoria, and I can use it to my advantage." She grinned wickedly, knowing all the fun she was about to have.

Victoria meanwhile was stuck as a passenger in her own body. Kayla had twisted her body into some evil funhouse mirror version. Worse still was Victoria kind of liked it. Despite her lacking any control over her own body, Victoria felt kind of powerful as she saw her reflection. Kayla had a confidence that Victoria lacked and it looked good on her body. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad….

[informatikerin-freyja]

Read more for a short recollection of my most recent experience attempting to help an innocent animal which only resulted in being spurned by fate.

Just this morning I was out in my garden when a moth landed on my shoulder. His name was Harold. Naturally, I was unaware of this at the moment of landing, but as I sit here writing up my experience for you, dearest reader, I have the benefit of now knowing such things. Anyways, Harold, the moth, greeted me with a curt and respectful "Hello!"

Now, I have in my life made a consistent and unwavering policy of never talking to talking animals. I know many people claim to have insightful conversations with animals anomalously capable of speech, but I have never been one to wholeheartedly embrace those things which life sets in front of me. I have always maintained a certain dignified and distant caution in such situations, and I wasn't about to renege on these foundational guiding attitudes of mine for the dubious pleasure of conversing with a moth.

So, I ignored Harold and continued gardening. It wasn't too long before Harold figured that I must have not heard him, and he repeated his greeting, a little louder, but otherwise unchanged. The awkwardness set in now. Should I talk to this moth? Was he not going to take a hint and leave? I guess I have to talk to this moth. I suppose it's fine if I just talk minimally.

"Hi."

There were a few moments of silence, and I thought that maybe this one concession was enough to placate this weird animal that had so boldly thought itself not just permitted to land on me but further allowed to engage in smalltalk. It was not.

"Nice, can we go on an adventure together?"

"No!"

There was no way I'm going on an adventure with a talking animal. It's bad enough to talk with a talking animal, taking its advice or otherwise conforming to its will is certainly a path of sin and doom. I continued with my gardening, hoping, desperately, that this encounter with this moth could come to a close already.

"I really think we should go on an adventure together."

I felt a wave of indignant resignation wash over me. I guess I have to go on this adventure with this moth. What a pain!

"Sure, what are we going to do."

"Well I don't want this to be some dutifully completed adventure, I want you to feel inspired and motivated, so let me pitch it to you. Basically, don't you want to know how its possible for me, a moth, a thing not really known for talking, is talking to you?"

"Maybe?"

"Well, simply put, I was taught to talk by Old Man Gregoriovitchonaldi! I want to take you to visit with him."

So I gathered up my gardening tools and put them into the massive stained glass bottle of gardening supplies which my mother had bought me the year prior, and I headed off on this grand adventure.

Harold and I walked this way and that way. Streets after streets were vanquished under the deliberate steps of my feet, as Harold clung to my shoulder lazily watching the world pass by us on our route. Until, suddenly, I found myself apparently at a deadend.

"Harold, this street, it just ends. We cannot go further on account of there being no further in which we can go!"

"Ah, this must be new. But I recognize that restaurant up front. Just go in and ask to speak with the chef!"

I entered the restaurant in front of us, and I asked the waiter to fetch the chef for me. It took a bit of convincing, but eventually the poor fellow went into the kitchen, and after some rather hostile shouting an angry and very tall Belgian man came storming out, his eyes fixed on me and brimming with fiery rage.

"How dare you interrupt my cooking! Oh shit, is that Harold on your shoulder? Hey Harold, buddy, pal, esteemed colleague, how's it hanging?"

At this point I finally knew the name of my mothly hitchhiking moth, but this revelation was overshadowed by my intense relief that Harold could handle this situation for me. He chatted a bit with this chef, and they came to the conclusion that I could pass through the restaurant and out the backdoor to overcome the obstacle of the seeming deadend.

After this, there was nothing really exciting to recount until we came up to Old Man Gregoriovitchonaldi's house. Interesting, he appeared to be living in a lighthouse.

I walked up to this old, worn, concrete building and knocked on the sea-air eroded front door. There was no reply and I tried knocking again. After a few moments Harold chimed in.

"I think you are going to have to pick lock that door."

"What? Harold I'm not breaking into this house for you, you are after all a talking moth, not the sort of thing known to exist and therefore not the sort of thing which carries with it intrinsic trustworthiness!"

"Won't you feel bad of Old Man Gregoriovitchonaldi is dying in there, unable to get to the door, and you don't check?"

I sighed and gathered together some twigs to pick the door lock with. Unfortunately they were still rather fresh, and forced into the metal they just turned to mush jamming it further. I could feel Harold's judgement, but he was kind enough to not express it verbally.

"Well I guess the lock is pretty jammed, you'll have to break a window in the back."

I knew that I could try and argue, but I would succumb to Harold's superior skills at rationalization. So I smashed out one of the back windows and entered into the lighthouse. It was coated in dust inside.

"Harold, I don't think Old Man Gregoriovitchonaldi has been here in decades."

"Yeah, he's long dead."

"Wait, you knew that he was dead! Why did you want to go here?"

"Well, it's a lighthouse, and I'm a moth."

Never trust animals that talk.

[fleurdelily]

— DIABOLIK LOVERS AS SONGS : marina edition

characters. shu, reiji, ayato, kanato, laito, subaru, yui

warnings. suggestive content, dark content

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ SHU SAKAMAKI

family jewels - marina

i can't break the cycle, am i just a fool ?

falling down like dominoes, hit by family jewels

pass it down from kid to kid, the chain will never end

less i decide to go to it, will i see the end ?

oh, don't you find it strange ?

only thing we share is one last name

Did i beat you at your own game ?

typical of me to put us all to shame

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ REIJI SAKAMAKI

are you satisfied ? - marina

it’s not my problem if you don't see what i see

and i do not give a damn if you don't believe

my problem, it's my problem

that i never am happy

it’s my problem, it's my problem

on how fast i will succeed

are you satisfied with an average life ?

do i need to lie to make my way in life ?

high achiever, don't you see ?

baby, nothing comes for free

they say i’m a control freak

driven by a greed to succeed

nobody can stop me

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ AYATO SAKAMAKI

oh no - marina

don’t do love, don't do friends

i’m only after success

don’t need a relationship

i’ll never soften my grip

one track mind, one track heart

if i fail, i'll fall apart

maybe it is all a test

cause, i feel like i’m the worst

so i always act like i’m the best

if you are not very careful

your possessions will possess you

tv taught me how to feel

now real life has no appeal

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ KANATO SAKAMAKI

obsessions - marina

sunday, wake up, give me a cigarette

last night's love affair is looking vulnerable in my bed

silk sheet, blue dawn

colgate, tongue warm

won't you quit your crying?

i can't sleep

one minute, i’m a little sweetheart

and next minute, you are an absolute creep

we’ve got obsessions

i want to wipe out all the sad ideas that come to me, when i am holding you

we've got obsessions

all you ever think about are sick ideas involving me, involving you

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ LAITO SAKAMAKI

teen idle - marina

i wanna be a bottle blonde

i don't know why but i feel conned

i wanna be an idle teen

i wish i hadn't been so clean

i wanna stay inside all day

i want the world to go away

i want blood, guts, and chocolate cake

i wanna be a real fake

feeling super, super, super suicidal

the wasted years, the wasted youth

the pretty lies, the ugly truth

and the day has come where i have died

only to find, i’ve come alive

i wanna be a virgin pure

a twenty-first century whore

i want back my virginity

so i can feel infinity

i wanna drink until i ache

i wanna make a big mistake

i want blood, guts, and angel cake

i’m gonna puke it anyway

i wish i wasn't such a narcissist

i wish i didn't really kiss

the mirror when i’m on my own

oh god, i’m gonna die alone

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ SUBARU SAKAMAKI

numb - marina

i can't breathe, and i can't smile,

this better be worth my while.

i feel numb most of the time,

the more I get the higher,

i’ll climb, and i will wonder why,

i got dark only,

to shine.

far gone families, far gone friends,

that's how it started, and how it ends,

i can't open up and cry, cause i've been saddened all my life.

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ YUI KOMORI

ancient dream in a modern land - marina

our ancestors had to fight to survive

just so we could have a chance of a life

ancient dreams in a modern land

i’m trying to get back as fast i can

back to a time before i had form

back to a time before i was born

you don't have to be like everybody else

you don't have to fit into the norm

you are not here to conform

i am here to take a look inside myself

recognize that i could be the eye, the eye of the storm

i am not my body, not my mind or my brain

not my thoughts or feelings, i am not my DNA

i am the observer, i’m a witness of life

i live in the space between the stars and the sky

[nightmare-the-cat]

War Dogs

I do a bit of world building

Gen does a bit of pining

……….

The sunlight was fading in the distance, colder weather bringing longer nights. Gen had taken to leaning on the railing of the old playground to observe this phenomenon once its timing began lining up with his walks back home.

Beni called him sentimental. Gen thought she was talking out of her ass. Watching the light fade from the world at this vantage point was breathtaking, the skies bleeding into ever darker colors until the pitch black of night completely took hold…

Made some of those more painful Corrupted raids worth the trouble.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” Gen stiffened as a warm hand landed on his shoulder to accompany the rhetorical question, before Guren emerged at his side to share in leaning on the old metal bar. He was staring ahead, indigo eyes focused on the setting sun in the distance. His expression itself was soft, relaxed-a rarity these days. Warm light kissed his tan skin, giving him an almost magical glow, like something out of a fairy tale. “Still, it’s as beautiful as I remember. The view from here”

“Yeah…”

Gen wasn’t really looking at it anymore, though.

A comfortable silence filled the air, Gen having to resist leaning into the warmth radiating off the shorter boys body. The sun continued sinking below the horizon, evening winds of autumn tugging at their clothing and hair. Gen could hear the silent melodies these seasonal winds produced, a symphony of life preparing to endure the coming winter. It was then when the winds were their most intense, their songs harsh and commanding, a stark reminder of how much power nature still held over all life on the planet.

Gen had a feeling he was the only one who truly understood the wind, to experience these melodies in their purest form. An invisible power that impacted all, no matter how big or small, gentle enough to provide a cooling breeze in summers, or raging tempests in temperatures below freezing.

He once tried to explain these concepts to the other knights, and Beni, but Guren seemed to be the only one who truly understood what he meant. Toxsa was far too calculative in mind, Chooki, too energetic and straightforward. Ceylan didn’t care much for the whimsical, and Beni was too logic oriented to wrap her head around the concepts-assuming he was just waxing poetic at the time.

Guren was different-never dismissing the abstract, but never trying to force it to conform to logic either. He accepted things as they were, preferring to take them in at their purest, in a sense. He asked how the winds sang about oncoming storms, or thier melodies during dry spells. Gen could never really give him a logical answer, but Guren understood anyway.

Even without the weird ESP being in play.

In fact, Gen was ninety percent sure Guren grasped abstract concepts better without direct contact with thoughts of the person explaining them.

It was probably why Guren viewed that ability as a curse. As he explained it, he never had peace when it switched itself on-the thoughts of himself and the other knights spilling into his head unobstructed. Even the thoughts of Beni, the lucky one between the two of them, who managed to sever her connection to Vanetta’s Core before the merge with her soul passed the point of no return, sometimes slipped through, though much quieter than those of the knights. Guren would get no peace unless he was completely isolated from those he held dear, but tended to show up to school with those telltale green eyes anyway. It was a silent suffering-one that may have stayed a secret if Guren wasn’t so open with the team.

Unlike someone else they knew…

“Maybe we should use this place for the next meeting” Guren murmured, breaking the silence as the last light of day sank below the horizon. “It’s better than those abandoned buildings, at least-and much more quiet than the main park”

“Meh-I’d say the roof of my apartment complex is better suited. Nobody cares to go up there” Gen murmured, their current problem of displacement having forced many relocations in the past month. “I’ve been monitoring it for a while-even set up a weird little chair sculpture a few weeks ago. It’s been left undisturbed”

“Maybe… this search for a new meeting place has been nothing but a drag” Guren mused, his expression having tensed a bit from talking about the teams situation. It was an understandable discomfort-he’d been the one who discovered the truth. The fact that all their souls had been sold and butchered-forever bound to servicing the balance of energy in the universe…

It felt like a sick joke.

Gen hadn’t believed it at first. He’d so desperately wished it was a stupid half-baked prank conceived by Ceylan or Toxsa that had pulled Guren in. The crushing pain in his chest when Guren had snatched his Core Brick and smashed his boot down upon it-that was impossible to deny.

Gen wasn’t sure what happened next-he’d been in shock. He only knew Guren had taken the other three Knights somewhere, and when they’d returned…

Well, the scorched beret clutched in Guren’s shaking hand probably said enough.

“I have to ask…” Gen found himself speaking, the memory having brought the words to the surface. Guren tilted his head in Gens direction, his gaze not really leaving the skyline, even though the sun was long gone. “The old man… what happened that day?”

“… He was in on it” Guren answered after a moment, his expression unreadable. “ALL of it. He viewed this fate, of our souls split clean in two, our humanity stolen away, an acceptable price for the continued existence of mankind”

His expression hardened.

“We decided if that choice wasn’t ours to make, then destroying the Guardian’s Portal wasn’t his” Guren spat, lips curling back into a snarl for the briefest of moments, before smoothing out into something more neutral. “If it isn’t obvious, that thing stopped being necessary a long time ago, we were only conditioned to use it so the Gaurdians could keep an eye on us-and call upon us whenever it struck their fancy, should their planet not do so itself”

Guren finally turned his head to meet Gen’s gaze.

“White tried to stop us-and he ended up hospitalized from the incident” there was a slight tug at the corners of Guren’s lips, almost as if he was suppressing a smirk, but there was no way of confirming it. “Dad visited him-told him to leave the city and never come back, or he’d take a monkey wrench and finish the job the portal failed to do himself”

“… Your dad really said that?” Gen asked, a bit disbelieving, considering how mild and kind Guren’s father had been in their interactions before. “Wait-why would he even-“

“Dad was the guy who built the back up plan in Benham Tower” Guren explained, gesturing in the direction of the glimmering spire, bathed in artificial light. “The Gaurdians told him the bare minimum to gain his trust, so he would do their dirty work for them here on earth. If he had known everything, I’m quite sure he’d have never brought me here”

“…. So the Black-“

“Yeah, the Black Key lock was also him” Guren chuckled, positioning himself so the railing was at his back, still supporting his weight. “He knew a lot-just not the most important bits. Well, not until he found me right after I’d given myself a nasty shock-dropped my Core Brick in the tub while wrestling a certain cat of mine into his yearly bath”

The redhead chuckled again, the sound entirely devoid of humor.

“I can’t imagine that was pleasant” Gen muttered, a bit concerned with how detached Guren seemed from such an experience. “You must have been drowning on air-how on earth did you piece together what was happening while being deprived of oxygen?”

“I didn’t. Max did” Guren hummed, a bit of amused relief seeping into his tone. “Turns out those old wives tales about cats being able to see human souls may have had a nugget of truth to them-otherwise I couldn’t tell you how he figured out that my Core Brick being submerged was behind my sudden asphyxiation. The little bastard actually dove into the bath for the first time EVER to get me out”

Gen couldn’t help but snort at the story, embarrassing as it was morbid.

“Yeah, I know, hilarious. Dad found me gasping for air on the floor, dry as a bone and clutching a wet Core Brick, and put the pieces together” Guren hummed, his smile becoming much more genuine. “He was PISSED, and stayed mad. I was genuinely surprised when he actually came back from that hospital visit-I was SURE he was gonna be arrested for murder”

“All of us should be so lucky-to have a dad like that” Gen chuckled, the image of Guren’s mild mannered, bespectacled father caving the old man’s face in with a wrench tickling the funny bone in the most morbid of ways. “I guess we know where that temper you developed came from”

“HA! No. That came from mom” Guren replied, amusement spread across every bit of his beautiful face. “She threatened to strangle a guy with his own intestines once, when I was real little. Nobody saw the rage coming, she had such a kindly face…”

The smile vanished. Quietly, Guren turned back around, bangs obscuring his eyes as the moon, a waxing crescent, began to emerge in the inky black sky. He produced his Core Brick in a practiced, fluid motion of the hand, running his thumb down the side.

“It’s probably for the best she never had to see me become this” the redhead murmured quietly, a gentle night breeze lightly tousling his hair. With minimal hesitation, he drew his arm back and flung the brick as hard as he could into the darkness. The telltale glimmer of red light came a moment later, and Guren produced the brick again, like it had never left his grasp.

“How much do you think that would hurt if the Core hit the pavement?” Gen asks as Guren wound up another throw.

“A lot, if I had it my way” the redhead muttered, flinging the Core into the darkness once again, this time with much more force. “Dropped it off the school roof once-it’s just inside the “respawn” distance. Stupid things are somewhat immune to fall damage”

“Not shock resistant though-that boot you slammed into me hit like a truck” Gen murmured, watching Guren repeat the throw again. “You’re pretty reckless when it comes to your own well-being, you know that, right?”

“Better I experiment myself and report results than letting you all learn the hard way” the redhead replied, twisting his wrist and flinging the brick like a frisbee that time. “Toxsa’s been experimenting too-pairs up with Ceylan for it sometimes. He’s much more shock resistant than the rest of us”

“I would’ve assumed it was Chooki” the dark brunette hummed in an attempt to lighten the mood, bringing a little smile to the other boys face.

“He can certainly give you a shock with those knuckle stingers” the redhead joked, producing the Core again and tossing it up in the air. “Beni suspects they might be venomous-she’s getting pretty pissed he won’t give up a sample for verification”

“Not surprised-Beni’s always been fascinated with poisons and venom. I’m pretty sure she’d make a killing in pest control with what she’s concocted with her dads old chemists set” Gen muttered, shuddering at the memory of the feral rat who’d made the grave mistake of ripping into Beni’s favorite cookies. “She made a mouse EXPLODE-even keeps the skeleton on display as a kind of trophy”

“I always wondered why she had that thing on the tea table-she puts it in goofy poses every time I come over” Guren chuckled, catching the Core and tossing it up again. “Ceylan likes glaring at it from the upper level”

“Better that than a repeat of the whole gerbil fiasco” Gen hummed, smiling a bit as he saw Guren’s expression soften again. “Or worse-that squirrel thing. I’m pretty sure you traumatized those kids”

“Yeah-having a prey drive is NOT fun, I don’t know how you haven’t snapped” Guren chuckled, subtly licking his lips. “I will admit-the squirrel tasted pretty good. I don’t think dad would approve of me experimenting with rodent meat in the kitchen, though”

“You’re always welcome to use mine-it’s practically untouched” Gen hummed, stretching luxuriously to loosen up after standing in the same position for so long. “Just-don’t pop the eyeballs like tic-tac’s, I only needed to see that once”

“Dude, you’re missing out. I’ve been eating eyeballs since I was six-there pretty good after a good broiling” Guren argued, pushing off from the railing, tucking the Core back away as he motioned for Gen to follow him. “They’re like if chocolate was a type of meat-“

“Guren I swear to Christ I will throw up if you dare finish that statement” Gen chastised, trotting after the redhead and giving a little slap to the back of his head. “Oh fine-I swear you’re such a baby when it comes to gore…”

The pairs voices faded away after that, leaving nothing but the sliver of moon as company for the forgotten playground

…………

@skittykat501 @kazumahashimoto