#youre an interesting critter. need to poke you with sticks

[terrifaecapathy]

# you certainly do a good job of proving teal correct ## idk man youre just weird ### glad youre having fun though i guess

# gold ## teal ### voidrot

Gold: you 2hould, calm i2 for 7he weak

7eal: you 7alk like 7ha72 a bad 7hing

Voidro7: hone27ly, you're no7 wrong, every7hing hur72 all 7he 7ime. You 2hould a22ume 7ha7 no7 becau2e im gonna die bu7 bucau2e dea7h i2 7he only 7hing 7ha7 would free you guy2 from ne

[codacheetah]

I can't believe I made a post abt Loop's biology and didn't talk abt their guts. Sad

[bunniekittiee]

What would Nubbins be like with a best friend? She tells him that she considers him special and that she likes spending time with him... and she may come to feel something more for Nubbins

I’ll answer this in headcanons/drabble! Im also referring to the reader as “you” cause it’s easier that way but reader is a female. Tried my best with this one

Here we goooo:

The Sawyers and your family were close as the farms were close in proximity.

Your family had known it was Drayton by himself raising his siblings for the most part, so sometimes they took the load off of his hands when he needed a break.

This is how your relationship with Nubbins started.

You were both very young, about five years old, and when you first met, you were extremely shy.

The young boy was excited, acting out wildly as he could not control himself.

It made you nervous.

But after some adjustment, you began to enjoy his presence.

You first discovered roadkill together and you both became fascinated with dead critters.

Sometimes you both would poke at their bodies with sticks out of pure curiosity.

Eventually, you started going to school but you noticed that Nubbins did not go.

But everyday, he waited at the bus stop for you to get off and so you both could play.

It was your favorite part of the day and you could barely contain your excitement at school because of how much you wanted to be with Nubbins.

You had a hard time making friends at school because they were nothing like your little roadkill obsessed friend at home.

So Nubbins ended up being your only friend.

Chop Top teased him and said that you were his girlfriend, but Nubbins always tackled him and told him to shut his mouth.

You both were inseparable. Drayton always smiled when he saw the both of you running around together.

He found both of you asleep in the pasture one time and couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was cute to see you two together.

As time went on, you both began to grow up. Grow into your bodies. Adjust to hormones.

Going from being shorter than you, to towering over you in a quick amount of time.

Your body began to change too, curves forming and your womanly features coming in.

Your style had changed as well, going from wearing frilly, cute clothes to dark, gothic-like clothing to match your interests.

You both had stayed very close, absolute best friends.

But there was some feelings between you two that neither of you addressed.

The way he wrapped his arms around your waist to lift you up to the birds nest in the tree.

The way he held your hand to look at the new animal bone ring you made.

The way he smiled when you brushed his hair out after washing it for him.

The way he kept his body close to yours when pulling you in for a hug.

He noticed how flush your body was to his when he was showing you how to throw a knife at a haystack.

Sometimes you both stole glances at each other but tried to make sure the other person did not notice.

There were many things between you two that you did but did not talk about.

It was almost taboo to bring it up.

So neither of you spoke about it, continuing your friendship as if there wasn’t something more to you both.

Drayton always scolded him to make sure he did not get you pregnant, which would have horrified Nubbins if he was not in love with you.

One day, Johnny joked that he was going to “steal that fine piece of ass from Roadkill Boy” and it set Nubbins off bad.

He hurled insults and physical objects at Johnny, screaming to stay the fuck away from you and if he didn’t, he would slit his throat.

Johnny knew he struck a nerve and just chuckled, only wanting to get underneath Nubbins’ skin.

You asked Nubbins if he would like to have a picnic with you in the sunflower fields and he quickly agreed.

The next afternoon, you skipped down to the Sawyer house in a black, lacy dress with a black cropped bell sleeve cardigan cover up (long ass description I am so sorry).

You wore bone jewelry Nubbins had gifted you and you curled your hair to perfection.

When he answered the door, he felt his heart skip.

You were absolutely beautiful.

Chop Top yelled that Nubbins had a hard on which embarrassed him a lot and Johnny just about died from laughter.

But he did not have a hard on, to your dismay.

You gently grabbed his hand and pulled him outside to go to the sunflower field together.

He seemed a bit off, he was not his usual, wiry self.

He seemed nervous and a bit out of it. Not usual Nubbins behavior.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” you asked as you both made your way into the sunflower field.

“Y-yeah.” he stuttered.

You frowned. This was not your usual Nubbins. You wondered what was wrong with him, but you didn’t want to push it any further.

“Well, I made us some sandwiches and got chips. I made your favorite dessert too!” you chirped as you pulled him quicker. “Come on, I’m starvin’.”

He giggled as you pulled on his hand softly to speed up his pace. Your hand fit perfectly into his.

Setting up the quilt and giving Nubbins a show with how your dress started to ride up your thighs, you both sat down on the quilt with a small sigh. You took out the lunch you had prepared and you both began to eat, talking about the latest roadkill you had seen and the latest victim the Sawyers had mutilated. You knew what went on, but it did not bother you. You were twisted in your own ways. But Nubbins loved that you didn’t seem to mind their bloodthirsty tendencies and their cannibalism.

However, he did enjoy the sandwiches you made even if it wasn’t made of human flesh or organs. Sometimes he had a craving for something other than human. And you filled that craving. After the main course, you took out dessert. A double chocolate cake that you decorated carefully with chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles. Nubbins had a sweet tooth as well, and chocolate was a huge weakness of his.

“Y-you’re the best, ya’ know that?” he said as he munched on a slice of cake. “This is amazing.”

You smiled. “Aww, well I had to make it. Ya’ are my special boy, ya’ know.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks as he giggled. “Am I your s-special boy?”

“Of course you are, you are my best friend in the whole world.” you replied with a blush tinging your cheeks as well. You opened your mouth to say something else, but you closed it.

He tilted his head. Some things did not go unseen with Nubbins. “What else were y-ya’ going to say?”

You swallowed and shook your head. “Nothin’.”

“I thought we d-didn’t keep secrets from each other.” he pouted.

You felt your hands begin to sweat nervously. You fumbled with the trim of your dress. “Well, I really enjoy spending time with you. It’s what I look forward to a lot. Just being with you.” You avoided his gaze.

“I-I-I feel the same way too.” He replied. “I really l-like spending time with ya’ too, Y/N.”

An awkward silence filled the air as the birds chirped quietly in the background. You both looked away from each other, not sure what else to say.

“I’m in love with ya’.” Nubbins said softly, the only sentence he said without stuttering.

Your head snapped up. “Seriously?”

Nubbins slightly flinched at your tone, immediately recoiling back. “I-it’s okay if ya’ don’t feel the same way-”

Gaining some courage, you leaned forward and cradled his face between your hands. “Nubs, I’m in love with ya’ too.”

He blinked at you in bewilderment. “Y-ya’ are?”

“Always have been.” you said quietly as you looked down. “Ya’ are my whole world.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I knew ya’ was gonna’ come around!”

You giggled as he began to get hyper. “My special boy, I always have been around.”

You kissed him gently. He was not very sure what to do, as he only had watched a lot of television that only showed a few kissing scenes, but he just went with his instincts. After what felt like forever, you pulled away and grinned at your Nubbins. He grinned back.

“So w-we’re a thing?”

“Yes we are!”

You both spent the rest of the evening together in the sunflower fields, watching the stars in the sky and talking. He held you close to him as you snuggled into him. This felt like home to him.

After some time, he noticed how frequently you were yawning and figured it was time to let you get back home to rest. He walked you to your house, which was not very far but he wanted to make sure you made it safe. He was not going to let his lady walk by herself in the dark. You kissed him goodbye once more and hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go of him. He didn’t want to let go of you either

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Nubs.” You said sleepily.

“Y-yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He replied as he ruffled your hair. You smiled at him as you went inside.

Trekking back to his home, he could barely contain his excitement. You were finally his and he was so proud of it. When he walked inside his home, Sissy hounded him immediately.

“Why are ya’ so smiley about?” she teased. “Someone got a little girlfriend?”

He nodded and smiled more.

Sissy gasped. “Ya’ finally got Y/N?!”

Chop Top peeked his head around the corner of the door frame. “Nubbins got a girlfriend?!” He started to dance around and tease his twin. “Nubbins got a girlfriend! Nubbins got a girlfriend!” he sang.

The hitchhiker could not help the string of giggles that came out of him. His cheeks hurt from the amount of smiling he was doing.

Bubba was freaking out with Sissy as they both squealed with happiness.

Johnny clasped his shoulder. “Ya’ shifty sum-bitch, I knew ya’ had it in ya’!”

With all the clamor and excitement, they did not hear the phone ringing except for Drayton who answered it and relayed the message.

“Nubbins!” he yelled as he came into the living room. “Ya’ little girlfriend called and said to come back to her house, she forgot to give ya’ somethin’.”

“Yeah, forgot to give him some ass!” Johnny and Chop Top howled with laughter as Sissy punched Johnny in the shoulder. “Oww, Sissy what the fuck?!”

Nubbins had a faint blush and nodded. “A-alright.”

Drayton eyed his brother. “And ya’ better make sure there ain’t no hanky panky goin’ on! Don’t need no love child of yours to be runnin’ about!”

“Lighten up old man, let Nubbins have this one!” Johnny said. “Go on, get to ya’ girlfriend now!”

Nubbins exited the house and made his way back to your house quickly. He was a little confused as to what you wanted to give to him, but he didn’t mind walking to your house this late. In fact, he didn’t mind doing anything for you at all.

He noticed that it was empty. Your parents must have been gone and he didn’t take notice of it earlier when he walked you home. He was too busy thinking about how you loved him. Knocking on your door, he glanced around and shifted onto his other leg. He was still a bit hyper from the commotion of his family.

When you answered the door, he felt his blood rush. You were wearing panties and a plain t shirt that outlined your curves. He tried not to stare too much.

“Wh-what is it that ya’ wanted to give to me?” he asked.

You chuckled. “Actually, I just wanted to see if ya’ wanted to have a sleepover. My parents are gone.”

He smiled. “I would l-l-love that.”

You both cuddled together and watched a movie, dozing off as you two soaked in each other’s presence. He was yours, and you were his. Forever.

BONUS:

“Where in the hell is that boy?!” Drayton complained. “It’s 12 in the goddamn morning!”

“Like I said old man, he’s gettin’ some ass right about now.” Johnny replied as he and Chop Top watched a horror movie and ate popcorn. “It’s best to leave them be. Ain’t hurtin’ anyone.”

“Y-yeah, he ain’t had a girlfriend ever.” Chop Top said while shoving popcorn into his mouth. “It’s g-good to see him happy.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Johnny said as he nodded his head.

Drayton sighed. “I’ll let it be this time, but I swear to God if she ends up pregnant I am beating the shit out of both of ya’.”

“They are gonna’ fuck like rabbits.” said the Slaughter boy with a chuckle.

“What was that, boy?” His mother asked in a warning-like tone.

“Nothin’ mama.”

[chocodile]

Hello! I've been a longtime fan, but I just started getting into Calico Critter/Sylvanian Families customization myself! If it's not a bother, could you tell me how you add hair to your critters (like the final fantasy viera bunny)? I wasn't sure if you were gluing it or if you'd poked holes in to reroot hair like how doll customizers replace regular doll's hair. I haven't found much other precedent for Sylvanian hair besides your posts, so I'm at a loss ^^'

Hey there! That's exciting to hear! I feel that Calico Critter customization is a seriously underutilized crafting field and I'm pleased to hear more people are getting into it!

I root the hair the same way doll customizers do, yes! Since there are no holes in their heads by default you gotta poke the pilot holes for the hair tufts yourself.

You will need to remove the head with a heat gun or blow dryer, which isn't too hard. I used this Youtube video as a guide.

Box braids and locs (like on the Kaitos and Oscar figures) are the only hairstyles I just glue to the outside of the head. A bit of glue goes at the tip of each hair noodle to keep it from unraveling and then the noodles are glued to the figure's head. Paint can be used to smooth over the hair/scalp transition and hide any visible glue spots.

Some additional tips I've discovered:

Bunnies and ponies are easier to root. Figures with big ears with wide bases or weirder head shapes have thicker plastic and are harder to root. The hardest one I've rooted was the kangaroo... fennec fox also gave me trouble. I plan to root hair on otters in the future, which may not be possible with traditional hair rooting tools. I can tell without even taking the heads off that the plastic is extremely thick. I might need to use a drill on those.

The flocking glue softens at about the same temperature that the plastic does. I'd advise using something softer than pliers when heating the heads for removal or else you might end up scraping a bit of the flocking off.

Some types of doll hair also will melt under the heat gun.... keep the hair covered and away from the heat when you're reattaching the head. Or just avoid low melting point hair materials... I haven't worked with doll hair enough to know which ones to recommend, though.

Longer hair will stick up and look goofy even if you style it due to the small size of the figures. I used a tiny bit of velcro to stick long haired characters' ponytails to the backs of their clothes and hold them down. I'm not sure how you'd do long that's not in a ponytail or braid of some kind.

I haven't found a technique for making locs that I'm really happy with... there are some tutorials online but they're aimed at bigger dolls. On something as small as a Calico Critter they're a bit stiff and messy looking... go easy on the glue if you try this.

Thanks for the compliments and interest! Good luck with your figure customizing endeavors!

[tintinwrites]

build a little home | Din Djarin x Reader | Part One

A/N: I know this fic was mentioned quite a bit ago and here you are, part one!!! This is set before or at the start of season 2 so baby ain’t named yet. He’s just Child/kid/baby right now!

Rating: T

Warning: Sexual references. Mando tries to step on a rat lmao. There’s a brief mention of peeing idk?

Word count: 2,650, apparently!!

Summary: Being chased by a dangerous group who wants reward money, you, Mando, and the Child move into a basement on a planet where no one will think of looking for you.

GIF credit: ^

Tags: Since this is a miniseries I’m just going to leave this open for whoever wants, so I don’t tag a bunch of people who aren’t interested!

                                            -------------------------

“—looks like this is our home, little one.”

You and the kid on your hip looked at each other before you both continued down the steps into the underground level of the home; it was a small room with some shelves and a small bed pressed up against one of the walls, the only light coming in from a small window on the opposite side of the room.

The Mandalorian stepped down behind you and looked at the room silently, most of his attention on the man who was following with what few belongings you’d packed, speaking in his native language as he explained what was set up for you and where things were.

The three of you would be staying here for the foreseeable future, in a basement on a nowhere planet, because there was a group who wanted the reward money for the Child and they nearly cornered you a couple times as it was.

If it wasn’t for your or Mando’s quick thinking each time they found you again, they would’ve succeeded in their mission.

You both knew that meant the Child would be with Moff Gideon and neither of you wanted that, so you agreed that it would be best to hide out somewhere that they wouldn’t think to look until they gave up searching.

And there you were, on a small planet with small exports that no one thought about, looking around a discreet basement under the home of an ordinary couple where you would be staying, waiting for your connections on other planets to send messages that this group was no longer looking for you.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” Mando’s awkward politeness was something you always found so cute about him, though you would never tell him that you thought any part of him was cute unless you wanted that helmet of his to tilt in offense.

“Thank you so much,” you added, and the man nodded with a polite smile before retreating up the stairs and shutting the door.

You set the Child on the floor when he squirmed to be put down, walking around the small room to look at the items on the shelf.

Mando looked around the room again and then moved his gaze to you, quietly watching as you looked at all of the things that made up your hideout. “He said there’s only one bed and he assumed that we...I will sleep in the chair.”

His almost embarrassed tone made you look at him with a raised eyebrow as you wondered just what the man assumed about the two of you, but it was a pretty easy guess since the two of you traveled together, you supposed.

Not that you and Mando did need to sleep in a bed together, but it was easy to assume simply because you were two adults who were companions and...you were embarrassed too at the thought of someone thinking the two of you did things that involved one bed, looking at the chair he mentioned.

“I can’t let you do that,” you said with a soft gasp as you eyed the old, dusty seat.

“I sleep in the cockpit.” He walked around the room slowly, pulling a tattered curtain to cover up the small window in case anyone was trying to look in.

“I never said I liked that either, but there’s a spring sticking out of this!”

“That’s fine.”

He’d finished looking around to be sure there were no other ways to access the basement aside from the entrance and the window, faltering when he moved to your side and saw that the spring was in the seat of the chair and it would probably poke him right in the…

He crouched down in front of the chair and began toying with the spring to see if there was any way he could push it back in or even take it out.

You knew that being in the same bed with him was going to be awkward, but you couldn’t let him sleep in a chair and especially one as broken as this one. “Mando, we’re adults, are we not?”

There was silence for a brief second as he pushed the spring in triumphantly, then it popped right back out and he dropped his head with a huff.

“I am. Some might say your adulthood is up for debate.” He always told jokes with such a level tone that you wondered if he was serious sometimes.

“You’re hilarious, but I mean that we’re both adults, so I think we can sleep in the same bed and not think too much of it.” Sometimes you thought of being in bed with Mando the way that man assumed, but you knew that wasn’t going to happen and you were perfectly capable of sleeping next to him without needing to do that.

“Where’s the kid?” He changed the subject, but he seemed to be considering the bed as he stood up and stared at the chair.

“I think he’s just looking at the room.” You glanced around and frowned when you noticed the child wasn’t in sight.

Then you heard shuffling from under the bed and you smiled, walking over and crouching down to take a look at what he was doing under there.

There was a thumping sound that made you laugh a bit as you leaned down. “You won’t find any snacks there, little guy.”

Just as you were reaching a hand in to grab the Child out, something leaned into your side and your brow furrowed to see who you thought to be playing with the bed was standing right there, watching what you were doing.

You looked back to where you were reaching and you jumped back with a soft cry when a furry, little creature ran out with a piece of cloth that it was probably going to use to make its own bed or something.

“Mando!” Your cry of his name made his head snap up from where he was fiddling with the chair to see if you were in danger.

“You okay?” He took one step towards you and that’s when he saw the little animal running across the room.

Tilting his head at the idea that you were afraid of that, he lifted a boot and raised it over the thing as it immediately paused and cowered in fear.

He was just about to step on it when you leaped to your feet with a gasp, running with your hands held out. “You can’t step on the little guy!”

“I was under the impression you were scared of it and didn’t want it here,” he deadpanned, but he stood there with his weapon of choice hovering right over the creature.

“He scared me, yes, but he’s a living thing even if he’s creepy. Your idea is to step on him anyway? I don’t wanna hear that crunch.” You scowled at the thought of it, looking around the room for an idea.

“Maybe he could sleep in the bed.” It was obvious by his tone that he was smiling beneath his helmet at his own joke, and all you did was glare at him before your gaze landed on the window.

“Let’s put him outside.” You walked over and pulled the curtains aside to see that no one was around, looking over the window before finding the handle to open it.

“By ‘let’s’, you mean I’m supposed to grab it and put it outside.”

“Yep.”

“It’s a good thing that I...forget it.” He grumbled, setting his boot back down on the floor to see that the animal was no longer there.

You immediately pressed against the wall in a failed attempt to climb up it in case it was running around on the floor, and Mando looked behind himself and under a shelf behind him.

A squeak made him look to the side, where he saw the thing squirming in the Child’s grip as he brought it towards his mouth. “No!”

He swept towards the kid like any father would when they saw their offspring misbehaving, bending over and pulling for a minute to make him release the creature, wagging his finger in his face to show him he’d done bad.

“How many times do I have to go over this with you? Not everything is food and if you’re hungry, you tell one of us and we’ll show you what you can eat.” He plucked the fabric that the critter dropped off the floor and let it take it back in its teeth, walking over to join you at the window.

“Don’t you ever feed that kid real food?” You joked despite being pressed against the wall and watching warily as if that thing would jump out of Mando’s hands.

“You’ve been partially in charge of him since I took you in.”

“Then I should go find him something to eat, huh?”

It was mostly an excuse to be away from the animal as you walked to the other side of the room and scooped the Child into your arms, setting him down on the bed where you looked through your pack.

Mando shook his head, guiding the creature through the opening of the window and watching it immediately scamper off like it knew where it was going; it probably only came into the basement in search of things it could use or eat, and now it was running home.

Probably to its family.

He turned away to watch you as you opened a packet of wafers for the kid to munch on, letting him sit in your lap and eat as you looked up at the man who was staring at you.

“Hey, Mando?”

“Yeah?”

“What happens if we need to use the ‘fresher to, like, pee?”

He looked around the room so he could point out a door that led to a refresher, but he realized that there wasn’t even any kind of receptacle in the room that you could use as a makeshift toilet for the time being. His helmet thunked back against the wall and he let out a loud, long groan.

                                            ----------------------------

Since the only light source in the basement was the window, the man whose home you were staying under came down before sunset to place a few charged up lamps that allowed you to not be in the pitch black dark.

Mando took off his cape and folded it so he could sit in the chair without the spring right on him, leaning against the back of the chair with his arms crossed over his chest, and you were putting the baby to sleep in the bed.

“—and the man took one of the stars from the sky and used it to always light his way so he wouldn’t fall into any more animal burrows.” You looked up at the plain, tan ceiling with a soft hum. “This would be much more interesting if we could see the stars. Don’t you think?”

There was no tiny babble in response and you looked to your side to see that the Child was fast asleep, and you smiled softly as you tucked the blanket around him a little more.

You looked over at Mando and assumed he was asleep, too, with the way his head was tilted back, so you slid out of bed and moved around the room to turn the lamps off.

Just as you were touching the button to turn off the one by the bed, you heard him ask, “Where did you hear that story?”

“My mother taught it to me when I was young...it was my favorite.” You liked the idea of staying up with him just to talk since that wasn’t something you usually did, deciding not to turn off the lamp as you sat on the bed facing his chair.

“Your favorite story is about someone who’s clumsy?” His tone was slightly teasing as if you were often clumsy when, really, you only tripped or walked into things sometimes.

“Shut up. Aren’t there stories from your childhood that you loved more than any others? One about a grumpy warrior with a green son and he walks around being mean?”

“I don’t remember them.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you not want to push him, like thinking of something like a story from when he was a kid was painful for him.

You laid back on the bed. “What if there’s more of those little animals running around here?”

“The kid can eat those ones.”

“Mando.” You were both scared that there would be more of the creatures and you also could tell that chair was not a fun place to sleep, and you weren’t going to let possible awkwardness make him stay there. “Will you come into the bed, please? Just in case there are some more?”

“I’m right here if you need something.”

“Please just come here.”

There was a moment of hesitation and then he slowly pushed himself out of the chair, walking around to the other side of the bed where he carefully sat down.

The Child was between you and Mando stayed sitting up with his back against the headboard, but it was a little awkward to be in the same space like that.

You were both silent for a bit and then you asked, “Would you like me to tell you a story to remember?”

You could almost hear his eye roll. “Go to sleep.”

“I hope they give up on us quickly if you’re gonna be grumpy the entire time we’re hiding out.”

“I am not grumpy.”

“Right, this is your normal self, we’re just not usually around each other for this long because you’re hunting bounties and I’m looking after the Child.”

“Would you like to sleep outside with rats?”

You let out a rather embarrassing snort of a laugh that you quieted so you wouldn’t wake up the kid sleeping next to you, and Mando tilted his head down to watch you with amusement.

He looked up at the ceiling as you continued to giggle to yourself, smiling just a little even when you’d stopped as he was a little prideful for making you laugh like that.

It was kind of nice to be in bed with you and not as terrifying as he thought it might be; you really were both adults and neither of you were going to do something to hurt the other.

Not that anything you could do to him in bed would offend him, but there would need to be a lot of discussion before you took that step in your relationship and he was pretty certain you wouldn’t want to do anything like that with him anyway.

“You can tell a story if you want,” he said nonchalantly, because even if he did tease you and even if being in bed with you made his mind wander to activities that wouldn’t be happening, he liked listening to you.

He looked down when you didn’t say anything to find you were fast asleep, one of your arms wrapped around the kid.

With a soft grunt, he leaned back a bit into the bed to sleep a little himself, thinking that it would be nice if the group that wanted the Child would stop searching for you quickly so you wouldn’t need to hide for long. Though he could admit that it was nice to enjoy a little break from bounty hunting and running even if it was to hide in a small room, under a stranger’s house, on a random planet that no one even really knew the name of so a group of criminals wouldn’t let the baby be hurt for a few credits.

Really, it was just nice to be in a quiet, normal place with the baby and you.

[dxmmymxmmywrites]

Caught Your Fancy

Maito Gai x F! Reader Smut

Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, unprotected sex, oral sex, pwp

There is not nearly enough Might Guy smut, so I’m here to fill the void! Personally I think this dude would absolutely fawn over a sassy lady, so this was a real treat to write.

Enjoy it ya filthy animals 🖤

...

It was leaner than your other leg, but it looked somewhat normal. You could move mostly on your own with some aid, which often came in the form of your staff. Despite having your dreams of following a nindo crushed, you still had dreams for your life you wanted to make a reality.

And there were many bumps in the road. You would trudge along during your day to day life, trying to be generous to the community while also building up your reputation as a creative. You dabbled in a bit of everything— writing, sculpture, painting— whatever could keep your hands and mind busy. It did wonders to stave off your boredom, and it gave you your own personal haven when the day was done. You could retreat inside yourself for rest.

It was where you were immersed now, sketching along in ink to quiet your mind. Your thoughts had been raging since earlier in the day, happy as it had been. Your hands seemed to move on their own as you doodle with an anatomy textbook open for reference. Some strokes collected into refined nudes, others were simplistic doodles of hands or feet or what have you.

Critters scuttling outside your window finally brought you out of your reverie. When they quieted down, you finally took in your last sketch that had taken up most of your parchment.

You’d drawn a man with strong features just from the image of him that constantly plagued your brain. His bright smile, his sweet dimples— that stupid bowl cut.

You scooted your supplies and paper to the side of your workbench so you had enough space to groan into your hands.

...

You’ve been companions for what seems like ages. Calling Gai a friend sounded odd due to the nature of your... everything, but it was the closest word you had to describe him.

He made you laugh, and you teased him. He walked you home when you ran into each other at markets, and you had stopped in on a practice or two to watch him with his genin.

Most of the time, he would attempt to woo you and you would play hard to get. Gai most likely enjoyed it— the thrill of the chase in the springtime of youth or whatever— but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it too.

Spending time with him on little adventures always left you giddy, feeling like you could actually run a mile without falling on your face. He would send an unapologetic but weirdly sincere compliment your way, and you wouldn’t show how it affected you until you were parting ways once more.

You’re expecting it to repeat as he walks with you to your home on the outskirts of the village now. You had managed to run into him when you’d run out for a last minute ingredient for your dinner. It was like he always managed to find you in a sour mood and make you feel at least a little bit better— you had been exhausted beforehand, but you were happily content listening to him describe his most recent training session with his students.

“—That reminds me!” He perks up like a puppy. “A friend of mine recently said you were once enrolled at the academy! You never told me you pursued ninjutsu!”

It wasn’t meant to be a harsh comment, but you felt yourself wince internally. Somehow, you felt more painfully aware of your leg than ever.

“Yeah... that was a long time ago. Yknow,” you tapped your limp foot with your staff. “Before this happened.”

The panic in Gai’s expression rises quickly, but fades just as suddenly. “I wouldn’t want it to hurt you— but if you ever have an interest in revisiting the basics, let me know!”

You laugh a bit. At least he was trying to make you feel better, pity from others could get tiring.

“You trying to make me one of your genin?” You playfully jabbed.

“Only if you’d like to! Though I wouldn’t mind a one-on-one practice. However you are most comfortable.”

His voice calms towards the end, to a casual but gentle tone you don’t often hear him use. Gai took you by surprise often as well.

And it really was touching. You never thought you could get back to how you were, or that you could ever be an adequate ninja. It didn’t stop you from yearning for it— something you had hinted to Gai before. He had paid attention.

It made a sort of heat rise to your face. Very few could get that reaction out of you, and Gai’s accomplished smile confirmed he knew just as much.

“It’s a kind offer... thanks.” You finally spoke as the two of you approached your humble abode.

His mouth opened to leap into a grandiose plan of action for your training— but you shifted to plant a kiss on his cheek and he stopped in his tracks.

“I’ll think about it, Gai.”

...

Since the time you had shared your vulnerabilities to him, Gai became even more of a common occurrence in your life.

He would nearly bust down your door at some ungodly hour of the morning and start making you a healthy, youthful breakfast. If he ran across a book you’d been dying to read, he would find you wherever to deliver it himself. And whenever you had some opportunities to work within the village, he would make a point to stop by and insist on you filling him in on your day.

It took you off guard. How could someone be so... purely good? How could he be such a bright light to you, and not want a thing in return?

You swore that even if you tried to run from him, he would always manage to get to you. Like running from a ray of sunshine at lunchtime.

So as he reached out to you more and more, you became more available. Parts of you that had been walled up for years came crumbling down with every act of kindness he gave you. Whatever he did, you practically melted for him. And it often scared the shit out of you.

But still, good things continued to happen. You made time to visit Gai and his team when you were invited to the training grounds. You dragged him by the ear to your home several times to feed him a purely indulgent meal, saying he couldn’t just eat superfoods for the rest of his life. You start writing down little poems that make you think of him, and go out of your way to stick them in his pockets when you think he doesn’t notice.

He does. He reads each one, marvels over your calligraphy, and keeps them tucked away in an old jumpsuit.

Around the time your poems became a habit, you start inviting Gai and the genin to your home for dinner every weekend. You come to know each of his students individually, and you grow to love each of them so much.

Lee marvels you with his spirit, and his willingness to scarf down whatever you cook is flattering. Tenten makes you laugh every time you see her with her quick wit, and Neji becomes intrigued with your interests in the arts, and admires whatever project you’ve attached yourself to at the moment.

You don’t catch him in the act, but Gai steals more looks at you in these calm moments with his students more than ever. There’s a moment when you poke fun at Neji with a genuine laugh that he feels his heart skip a beat.

How did he find such a beautiful, youthful spirit like yours? He never wants to let you go.

...

After you had really come out of your shell, you finally agreed to meet Gai for a private session on the sparring grounds. It made you a little nervous, but the excitement in your chest pushed you further and further until you were rushing out the door in whatever workout gear you could find.

You arrive a little early, willing to wait for him if need be. Yet as you approach the encirclement of combat dummies in the field, you can hear the familiar smacks of someone putting the dummies to good use.

The sun finally moves out of your eyes, and your greeted with the sight of an unabashedly shirtless Gai landing hit after hit with no margin for error.

It’s... a religious experience to watch him move. Sweat glistens over his battle hardened muscles with each punch, and you carefully watch a trail of sweat glide down the center of his abs down to the prominent “V” shape of his hipbones.

You try not to drool.

He notices your presence and turns to give you one of his glorious smiles.

“You made it! Glad to see it wasn’t too early for you.”

“I was... motivated,” you manage, watching him step closer to you.

If he noticed your bothered state, he didn’t pay it any mind.

“I have a plan to get you used to the movement of combat. You’re certainly in shape, you only need to learn to follow the flow of combat to start.”

It vaguely makes sense to you, but he takes your hand and leads you to a larger training pit void of combat dummies. You almost don’t want to let go of his hand, but then he lets go and begins to circle you.

“Throw a punch, or hit me with your staff. Let’s begin slowly, and then I can follow your movements.”

It’s nerve wracking, but you can feel the butterflies going insane within you. You slowly go to swing your staff at him, but he slowly counters you and explains his reasonings as he does so. With each movement you make, his process becomes more calculated— and he gives you enough time to consider his words and apply them to your next move.

Like a game of chess, you work in tandem and simultaneously against each other. To be so in sync with him becomes almost intoxicating, especially zoning into his voice and following the grace of his marble-like body. He becomes the epitome of temptation.

Was this his plan all along?

In your single moment to falter, he is able to catch you from behind with a strong arm held around your throat. Your eyes bulge. But your ovaries do a summersault.

“And because of this, you must stay grounded in combat. And not in your head.”

You can feel a shiver convulse throughout your body at his voice being so close, so hot and breathe against your skin. This time, he does notice— and goes stiff.

He goes to say your name, but you painfully grip his wrist and then shove him to the ground.

He jumps when the end of your staff stamps itself inches from his ear, but he feels himself reddening at how tightly your straddling his waist. And those eyes— they sear him to the bone.

“Are you having fun?”

Your words are loaded, coated with either honey or venom and he can’t tell which. Does he care for the difference?

“Are you feeling inspired by my lesson? Do you already feel yourself improving?” He manages that picturesque smile again, though it’s certainly strained.

You lean closer to him, and he gulps. Your stare never wavers.

“I think I could teach you a few things, Maito Gai.”

The deadly desire in your voice makes him feel like he’s floating but falling at the same time. What are your plans? What would you have him do to you?

What would you do... to him?

His determined grin grows, and you feel your heart rate quicken.

“I’m at your mercy.”

You can’t take it anymore. Your freehand shoots to grab the back of his neck and your lips crash against his. He frees his hands then, and they heatedly run up your sides and cup your back until he cups your face with the most tenderness possible.

His kiss, however, is not so tender. Your tongues passionately intertwine with a ferocity that riles the both of you up with each passing second. You moan deliciously into his mouth, and he seems to melt into you.

It leaves him open to you pulling the back of his hair so you can shove your tongue farther into his throat. He continued to groan such sexy noises into your kiss until you begin to fervently grind on his lap.

When you break for air, you slowly grind your core over the outline of his growing hard-on.

“A-ah! Oh, darling—“ he heatedly moans again, making you wetter than ever, and pulls you in for another kiss.

His grip on your pelvis tightens as he sits up, and with you perched on top of him, he takes advantage of your exposed neck. His flushed lips trail lovely open-mouthed kisses all over your pulse-point, and you feel yourself wrap your legs around him as hard as you can.

You grind continually onto him, and keen lowly when he sucks a hickie into your neck just as he times a roll of his hips expertly between your legs.

“Hooooly fuuuck, Gai,” you say as your head rolls back. “Can we do this?”

“Absolutely,” he groans into your neck, pulling at your back so your sweaty torsos rub together.

How did you get so lucky to find him? You look down at him, breathing heavily, into his equally lust-blown pupils. You cup his chin to give him one more passionate kiss, where you lick over his lips and revel in how weak he is for your touch.

And then, you knock him down into the ground with a thump to his chest. Leaning over him so he has a face full of your tits, you instruct.

“I’m gonna ride you. But first, I’m going to sit on your face and blow you into next week.”

The blush across his face is prominent, from the joyful mixture of heat and hormones. But he excitedly smiles.

“Yes ma’am...” he says contentedly, freeing his dick from his pants while you readjust to kick yours off.

In no time at all, you reverse and lean your ass onto his face. He enthusiastically grips your thighs, and pulls your underwear to the side to place a long stripe to your soaked cunt.

You inhaled, but then he quickly pulled you into him and plunged his tongue into your sopping pussy. You shriek.

“Oh fuck! Holy fuck, Gai!” You whine as he hums into your cunt, and you feel your legs quiver as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Hearing you rendered so helpless on top of him spurred him on, and his grip tightens. You can’t submit to him just yet— no, you’ve been dreaming of this for too long to back down now.

You stretch forward as much as you can manage and encircle the head of his cock with your lips. At that moment you knew Kakashi was full of shit when he mentioned Gai had an acorn of a cock— he was clearly a grower, and fisting his girth made your mouth water.

You begin to bob your head on his length, and you feel his pace weaken. It spurs you on, and you try to open your mouth as far as you can to suck him with all your worth.

Gai continues to eat you out to his heart’s content, and you feel him shake as you drool over his immense cock. You feel your determination building again despite the tremors of pleasure overcoming you— and you take him to the back of your throat. You hum as you arch your back, and run your nails tightly down his muscular thighs to hold him in place.

He sputters against your cunt, and you hold his legs to the ground while you render him undone, swirling your tongue around every detail of his thick cock.

As he begins to tremor again, you take a hold of his cock and run the flat of your thumb over his head, teasing his slit.

“Are you ready for me?” You breathe onto his cock, and flatly lick the precum dribbling from his slit.

He exhales as you rise from his face, legs shaking. He leans onto his elbows for a moment, smiling as he wipes your juices from his mouth to lick off his fingers.

“I’m always ready! But especially for you, my love” Gai says in a deeper, more loving voice then you’ve ever heard him use before.

It makes you ache in the best possible way.

You jostle your weaker leg over his lap, and he puts a hand out to hold you as you adjust. Sitting down, you intentionally adjust the lips of your pussy to glide over his shaft, and slowly grind along his length as you kiss under his jaw. Gai moans deep in his chest, running his hands over your back, trying to ground himself through the pleasure.

“D-don’t tease,” he manages, and leans into your touch as you lick up his jugular.

His voice is a symphony to you, while he squirms under your touch. You know you’re both ready then— so you angle his cock to finally sink onto his length.

Both of your mouths open in ecstasy we you ease onto his length, marveling at how your wetness lets his girth take you. It takes a moment to adjust, but eventually you settle into his lap fully speared on his erection. The two of you are breathing heavily, and you’ve only just begun.

You settle your foreheads against the the other’s.

“When you’re ready,” he lightly comforts, and you nod.

You feel yourself grip him harder, and you use your legs to pull him closer to you. Your lips interlock once more, and you groan at the taste of your pussy on his tongue. It encourages you to sway your hips forward, while Gai slowly moves your ass to relish your pull.

You slide deliciously around his cock. The more he relishes in the moment, the more of a slave he becomes to the passion between you. Your bodies begin to move in a glorious rhythm, composing a beautiful dance while your gasps of pleasure begin to harmonize.

Gai takes the liberty to gentle buck into you, feeding off your pretty moans while he hits your g-spot repetitively.

You loving pull you name from his tongue, while you pant and try to see straight. You could get high off of how sweet his touches were— how deeply he looked into you.

“Ahh, fuck, Gai—“ you purr into his ear, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Harder!”

His quiet laugh is so deviant and sexy as he picks up his pace, to where he’s rutting into you with his balls slapping your skin. You can’t help but keep bouncing and bouncing on his merciless cock, thighs screaming, crying out as the noise of slapping flesh and wet squelching echos into the air.

“Take me, fucking take me!” You growl into his ear, clawing at his back to try to stay in place. “Ooooh, fucking ruin me Gai!”

“You have a filthy mouth, my love!” He exclaims, still fucking you like a damn race horse.

“And you like it, don’t you baby? You like me being a greedy for your cock?”

Your words run him through with so much shock and absolute list all at once. You punctuate the filthy whispers by biting down hard onto his shoulder— and he cries out as you set a brutal pace to milk the remainder of his stamina.

“AHHHhhh! Darling—! I’m— aAAAaag— closing in!”

You purr like a devil into his shoulder, liking the bruise you’ve left. You’re shaking like an addict, and I you know you’re close too.

“I’m gonna cum all over your cock, Green Beast! Cum for me, cum for your slut!” You pant out, and Gai nearly screams as he fucks into your pussy more furiously than ever.

In the heat of it all, you shove him to the ground again. You grab his chest and put all your weight onto him as you ride out your orgasm, moaning like a bitch in heat as you chase your highs to oblivion.

Gain holds your hips enough to mark them, forcing you down into his cock— but then he looks at you in all your glory on top of him. Sweating rivulets down your reddening skin, singing for him as you take his cock like it was made just for you. He pulls you we close as he can and lets out a strangled scream as he orgasms hard.

Tears stream down your face as you feel your pussy clamp down onto him afterwards, whining with glee we his cock throbs within you. You exhale hard, and you can feel your heart jump over the moon.

All before you collapse off of him, and lay down beside him in the grass. Both of you are dirty, exhausted, and covered in sweat— and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Somehow, you manage the strength to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re amazing.”

He grins, surprised he has enough energy to laugh. “And you are the most beautiful creature to exist.”

You laugh through a blush, and snuggle into his strong arms as he pulls you into his chest.

“I think I should train you more often!”

[blackberd]

We’re All We’ve Got

- - - - -

@who-is-a-heretic-now I know I’m a tad late, but hope you enjoy this drabble! Can’t ever go wrong with Jerome bonding with animals. Exploring this side of him some more was incredibly insightful, thanks for the prompt!

- - - - -

Jerome felt restless all night. His mind was too caught up with his plan to escape Arkham Asylum for once and for all. He could’ve left at any given moment, but Jerome was a perfectionist and ever the showman. Everything had to be just right for him to pull off the greatest show of the lifetime.

He laid in the dark over the covers of his bed. With his eyes closed, his fingers drummed a rhythmical beat against his stomach while he swam around in his thoughts.

It was never totally quiet at Arkham, there was always some commotion going on down the hall, someone laughing, or crying, or whaling, but Jerome learned to ignore them all. It was easy, his mother made more noise during the circus days.

He rolled his eyes, pushing the memory of her to the back of his head. Even in death she still managed to get under his skin. With a grunt, he spun onto his side and tried to dive back into his strategy-building.

A new sound piqued his interest. It was coming from the corner of his cell. A scratching, some distinct rapid movement.

His eyes narrowed in the dark, his fingers clutched the sharp razor blade he kept under his flat pillow.

Then, he heard a soft squeaking and his muscles instantly relaxed. He was well familiar with the sound of a squeaking mouse. Mice used to hide in the hay he’d feed the circus animals. Sometimes they’d make a nest for themselves, raise entire families. He was ordered to kill them whenever he’d spot them. They were, after all, vermin, but Jerome never did such a thing. He’d chase them out into the night. If they were stubborn, he’d catch them by the tails and release them far away from the circus grounds. It’s not that his heart was exceptionally big towards vermin… but he, himself, was vermin to many people, and in a way, he understood them completely.

Flicking on the single lightbulb they’ve supplied him with, Jerome waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden light. In the far corner, he saw no mouse, but he wasn’t stupid. There was a mouse in his cell and it was hiding.

Pulling himself up to his feet, he knelt by the tiny hole in the wall and grinned to himself.

Mouse droppings. A small mouse, then, Jerome mused to himself, and it was scared.

“Out you come, little fella,” he said quietly. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

He stayed this way for a few minutes, but the squeaking didn’t return. He sighed, but he wasn’t going to give up. Food at Arkham was shit, but Jerome had a knack for the salted crackers they’d offer whenever soup was on the menu. He’d never drink the soup – he hated soup – but he made sure to stock up on those crackers though. They made for a most excellent midnight snack.

He crumbled half a cracker by the opening in the wall and proceeded to lay on his stomach, facing it. The ground was cold, making Jerome shiver involuntarily, but he wasn’t planning on moving away. While he waited for the mouse to return, his thoughts soared. Funny, how people never truly change. Jerome was using the tactic he always used whenever he attempted to gain the trust of an animal. He had to admit to himself that he loved this part - the waiting part. To win the trust of an animal is no small accomplishment. An animal bases everything it does on basic animal instinct. It can decide whether or not you mean them harm by your smell, your stance, or your eyes. It’s why Jerome was on his stomach. It’s why he offered it food in a proclamation of peace. It’s why he didn’t force it to come out before it was ready to. An animal will never approach those they don’t trust, but they have always – always – trusted Jerome.

Pillowing his chin over his folded arms, he waited patiently, vaguely listening to the man hysterically crying a few cells away because he was denied his meds. It was the same episode every night; Jerome rehearsed it all line-by-line by now.

Arkham is so… boring.

The scratching sounds of tiny, shuffling feet returned. Jerome perked up and held his breath. When a tiny pink nose poked out to curiously sniff the crumbles, Jerome grinned.

He watched it silently at first, lazily dropping his head to one side as he watched the mouse satisfy its hunger. The more it ate, the more he saw of its little white face. Its eyes were wide and black with fear, staring back at Jerome as though it was Death greeting it.

Jerome knew how to handle frightened little critters. He might not have dealt with animals daily anymore, but it was embedded in him like coded intuition. He couldn’t turn a blind eye on this mouse now that he knew it was there. Animals were once his only companions, he owed them a lot. Exhibiting some kindness towards them was the least he could offer them in return.

Once the mouse finished its small portion, it eagerly sniffed for more. Jerome crushed the other half of the cracker and crumbled it a bit farther away from the hole, urging the mouse out of the shadows.

It scurried away from him, but Jerome expected that. It’d be back, but at least it now got to know the hand feeding it. Perhaps it could understand that Jerome meant it no harm.

“You gotta come out sooner or later,” Jerome said, yawning into the sleeve of his uniform. “I’m not going anywhere so you might as well get it over with.”

One minute… Two, Three…

The pink nose came back, and Jerome stifled a small chuckle.

“Y’know,” he started amiably. “It’s always surprised me how much you mice eat. You never stop. Where do you put it all?”

The mouse, of course, didn’t reply. With the food farther away and more towards Jerome, the mouse hesitated to approach it. It never blinked away from the giant man watching it closely. Jerome hummed to himself.

“Told you I’m not gonna hurt ya. I get how it feels, to be so small in a world so ready to beat you down. It ain’t nice, but that’s what vermin like us get in a world like this. You can’t spend all your life in a dark hole, can you? You gotta leave the shadows eventually.”

Slowly, the mouse drew nearer, but it was still prepared to flee should Jerome so much as blink the wrong way.

“See? Much better,” he commended, as though the mouse would understand the encouragement. “It’s different in the light, isn’t it? More freeing. I bet that same cracker tastes better out here, too.”

The more the minutes ticked by, the less tense the mouse got. It began to lower its head from Jerome, allowing a few seconds to pass without maintaining direct eye contact. This was progress, and Jerome was thrilled.

When the mouse sniffed around for more food, Jerome held a piece of cracker up between his fingers. No more floor-feeding. He needed to get the mouse to come closer.

“Come on, you know you want it,” Jerome tempted with a quirked brow. “A mouse is never full, remember?”

Minutes ticked by again, and the mouse kept performing its scurrying dance.

“You’re killing me, Mousy,” Jerome sighed. “If you don’t eat from my hand then I’ll be forced to enjoy this bland cracker myself. Know what that means? None left for you. And whose fault do you think that’ll be?”

As though it understood the mild, underlying threat, the mouse finally kicked itself towards Jerome’s extended hand and proceeded to munch away at the cracker. Jerome smiled to himself.

“How’d you even find your way into this loony bin, huh? Unless you’re one of us, of course. Ever committed murder and pled insanity?”

Silence. The mouse continued eating like there was no tomorrow.

Jerome snorted. “Nah. You’re probably the sanest creature in here. And, buddy, that says a lot!”

The mouse jerked at Jerome’s sudden cackle. Jerome muffled his laughter and threw the mouse an apologetic look… at least, the best he could muster.

“Pardon my excitement. I don’t normally get visitors around here, y’know?”

Gradually, the mouse inched its way back to finish up the last bit of cracker left. When all was gone, it sniffed Jerome’s fingers before looking up expectantly.

Jerome shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that, fatty. You had the whole thing and didn’t even share.”

Sensing the mouse’s calmness, he moved a finger against its puffy cheek. The mouse didn’t run away, it allowed it.

“Whether you’re criminally insane or not, you shouldn’t be in here,” Jerome said quietly, running his finger over the mouse’s rounded ears. “No one here will be willing to feed ya at all hours of the night, let alone allow you to roam free wherever you please.” A soft frown drew between his brows. “Come to think of it, Mousy, you won’t find kindness like that no matter where you go. It’s a shame you’re vermin.”

The mouse panicked when Jerome gently scooped it up between two hands. He held it securely so that it wouldn’t fall or hurt itself.

“Shh… Quit squirming, stupid,” Jerome muttered, trying to calm it again by softly petting its head. “I’m vermin like you, remember? I’m not gonna hurt you. There… good,” he said when the mouse finally stopped trying to escape and instead looked at Jerome questioningly.

Jerome returned to his cot and propped his pillow up against the wall. Stretching his legs out, he set the mouse atop his chest and let his heavy eyelids fall. He wasn’t holding onto the mouse as securely anymore. He granted it space to move around and could feel it sniffing his hands and shirt. He knew it wouldn’t run away now, not when it associated Jerome with food, comfort, and safety.

“Just tonight,” Jerome said, his voice coated with sleep. “Tomorrow I’m setting you free beyond the Asylum walls. It’s no place for vermin in here, Mousy, I told you. You’ll never survive. As for me… well, I don’t plan on staying here for much longer either. It’s a lot more depressing than you think. Who knows, we might just bump into one another on the other side someday. After all, us vermin should stick together. We’re all we’ve got.”

[365daysoftododeku]

8th March 2019

Author: CrzA

Admin’s Note: This is a two-part story written by @crzangel! The next part will come on the 13th!

________________________________________________________________

Never Met Anybunny Like You (Part 1)

The afternoon has barely started and Shouto is already feeling exhausted, rubbing at the back of his neck with a sigh as he makes his way out of the throne room. His father’s definition of ‘ruling’ and his own are unfortunately not even the tiniest bit aligned, and going through it all without having much of a say in any of it, just watching on the pretence of ‘learning how it’s done’, is unbearably draining. At least he still has his mother’s private gardens whenever he finds some time for himself. At least here things are peaceful.

Momo is standing guard at the entrance, as she usually is, but she respects his privacy enough to allow him these few hours alone, away from everything and everyone as he walks among the flowers his mother had lovingly tended to, when she was still around. They had a castle full of servants but she always insisted on doing it herself, and now that Shouto had started coming here as well, he thinks he understands why.

It’s peaceful; the sun shining warm on his skin, the light breeze blowing against his cheeks and the wonderful scent of nature surrounding him. She used to talk to the flowers, from what he remembers, but Shouto always feels silly whenever he tries. Something about talking to something that most certainly can’t hear him just sounds extremely ridiculous.

Shouto can see the irony in the fact that he talks to animals just fine, but even if they don’t understand him, they can acknowledge he’s addressing them. Most of them anyway. Everyone has their strange little quirks and this just happens to be his. Sometimes he likes to befriend the little critters that wander into the castle grounds, watch the butterflies flutter around the roses or whistle along with the birds in the trees, and sure, that may be a little… weird. But it soothes Shouto’s soul, and given who his father is and what he has to deal with because of it, that’s something he needs to cherish.

Things may be pretty uneventful in the gardens, but that’s most of what Shouto likes about them. But then…

“Bunny…” Shouto breathes, watching as a strangely coloured bunny rabbit runs straight into his leg from the edges of the surrounding forest.

He can’t resist the urge to bend down and pick the tiny ball of green fluff as it fumbles to gather its bearings. At first, its little heart seems to be trying to beat right out of its chest, but once Shouto helps it settle in his arms it seems to calm down, snuggling up to his chest. It’s the most adorable little piece of fuzz he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s holding it. It’s so cute and soft and Shouto wants to protect it forever.

Okay, perhaps that’s a little excessive, but the feeling still stands. Shouto holds the little bunny closer and it reaches up, its little nose twitching cutely before it touches it to the tip of his. Carefully and with a small smile stretching on his lips, Shouto pets the bunny’s head, its little ears sticking to its head as he scratches between them. His heart squeezes in his chest and he squeezes the bunny in response, leaning down to coo at it before placing a soft kiss on its forehead.

Suddenly, the air around the bunny explodes in a puff of green smoke and it gets way heavier. About what a well-built man might weigh. About exactly that, considering Shouto is left staring at him in the face while he has his arms and legs wrapped around him and tall, green bunny ears poking out from between wild and equally verdant curls. And that face is bright red, speckled with a million and one dark freckles, with two large, bright emerald eyes that shine with the threat of tears.

Shouto’s heart skips a beat and he blinks stupidly at the red-faced stranger he’s still holding.

That is, until he starts shrieking and squirming and Shouto accidentally lets him go, causing him to fall on his rear with a pained yelp. He pulls his rabbit ears down to cover his scarlet face, curling in on himself as he starts mumbling. Not really knowing how to react, Shouto just stands there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to another and wondering if he happened to fall asleep among the flowers and this is just some weird dream.

But their eyes meet when he stops mumbling and his ears shoot up, that stunned look on his face morphing to horrified embarrassment and making his heart pick up its pace, and that definitely feels real. Shouto doesn’t remember having dreams that didn’t have him wake up screaming, so something this pleasant certainly can’t be one. Looking back towards the gardens’ entrance to see if Momo is rushing to check if something’s wrong and realising the bunny-man’s shrieks must have been quiet enough for her to miss them, Shouto turns back to this strange intruder.

“You were just a bunny rabbit.” The man stills, then nods slowly. “And now you’re a man with rabbit ears.”

“Well, actually, the term would be a pixie bun.” He slaps his hands over his mouth and Shouto tilts his head in curiosity. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you?” The man hides behind his ears once more, trembling slightly. “Why would I hurt you?”

“Y-you’re the Prince. And I just trespassed on castle grounds. Your lord father and our kind are…”

“Not on good terms.” Shouto completes when his voice trails off into an inaudible whisper. “I don’t think he’s on good terms with anyone. But if I agreed with any of his views, I don’t think you’d still be talking.”

Blinking up at him, the man slowly lets go of his ears and they perk up once more as he stands up and lets them droop to the back of his head. That bright flush spreads further on his face and he traps his bottom lip between his teeth, hanging his head and looking down at his feet. He starts to fidget.

“You have a name?” Shouto asks, raising an eyebrow as the ears point back to the sky, his eyes widening.

“Y-yes!”

There’s a long pause. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Right! Um, Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Midoriya I-I-Izuku… I swear that I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just running from Kacchan…”

Kacchan? “As a bunny…”

“Yeah… He’s a wizard. He’s the one who turned me… I said his hat was funny and he got mad at me…”

Shouto hums. “That’s certainly a predicament.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry…”

“So, why did you turn back?”

“I think I heard him shout something about ‘good luck finding a royal to kiss you back to normal, ya damn nerd’, but I was busy running away before he caught me so I can’t be sure. But it was nice meeting you! I should get going now, sorry to disturb you on your peaceful walk.”

Midoriya starts trying to walk past him and Shouto just steps in his way, arms crossed. “You needed a royal to kiss you back to normal?”

“Seems that way! What a coincidence, right?” He trails off into a little nervous laugh, his ears twitching.

“Are you sure it was a coincidence?”

“Pretty sure. Crazy right? I’ll get off your hair now.”

Crazy? Yes, maybe a little bit. But Shouto has this gut feeling it had nothing to do with chance at all. He takes a gander at his assumption. “How long have you been watching me from the forest?”

“What? Me? Watching you? From the forest? Why on earth would I—”

Before Shouto can even think to react, Midoriya jumps right over his head and runs towards the trees, quickly disappearing between the foliage and leaving Shouto staring after him. Well, that certainly proved him right. What an interesting creature…

When Shouto returns to the castle with Momo by his side as usual, there is a new spring to his step and something else to look forward to in the gardens.

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/

[asheespiquantpeculiarities]

Review-time

„I know you don’t want it, but you did want a review. So… here you go! It’s a two-parter!” The words rang in Trevor’s ear when he put down the heavily chained box on his living room table.

He narrowed his eyes at the offending thing. And then looked at the keychain holding the key.

It dangled.

Right next to a USB-stick. With, apparently, a two-part review…

…

… of a weirdly sentient sex-toy.

Because it might be ‘good for him’.

Why was Richard such a weird man.

Ricard still wanted to get in his pants, but instead gifted him a sex toy for… relaxation. Stress relief, he said.  

It was especially odd because he seemed almost embarrassed when he handed over the key. The ‘almost’ only added since man was incapable of embarrassment.

 Trevor stared at the stick again.

Well.

Richard can’t concentrate all that long, maybe he just needed to cut together the explanation of the damn thing. Maybe it needed… walks. Or a good brushing once in a while.

Weirder things can – have – happened.

Richard was a busy man. But had put in effort and time to… make this.

With a sigh, he got up and stuck the stick in his TV. How bad could it possible be, really.

Sitting down with pen and paper, Trevor pressed play.

  Blue eyes blinked into the camera. Squinting, widening, suspiciously poking it.

With a resolute, final nod, he let the thing go and it flew away from him, showing four more buzzing cameras. Revolving a little around him before it settled somewhere in front of Richard, appearing in a dress-shirt, tie and cufflinks.

With the box. Possibly Richards box.

Fair enough.

He knocked on the box: “This… is our product for review today” He lifted the thing and turned it around: “Or, well. The inside of the box, naturally. It’s my own, very personal Frederik-produced lust-creature”

He put the box back down.

“And I did want to do this like a showman, but since the video is for you… I’ll try to keep the surprises to a minimum,” he said, smiling warmly.

“So, information first. What is in this box?” He still looked up like he awaited an answer, then continued, “It is a portal. A very small portal. To the cage the creature resides in.

“It is a creature somewhat related to a lust-beast, but not really thinking for itself. It only knows how to be hungry. And, well, the origin already gives you a very good idea what it is hungry for. It’s a fairly easy idea and it satisfied a surprising amount of people. But…”

Richard held up a finger and pointed smugly at the camera.

“… but that would be just a bad idea. Taking just a rampant little lust-beast wouldn’t be very personal now, would it. No, it also has a part of me inside of it. Which attunes it to my very being. And is very, very hungry for my sexual energy. And does exactly what I desire. After all, the energy is most delicious if I get exactly what I want

“Ah, but I see you now, shaking your head and scrunching your nose,” he did just that, possibly for emphasis, “ ‘You are a demon, telling me about this, there is certainly a trick behind it!’, you say, ‘You can’t trust this fiendish thing!’ “

His expression turned into an uppity frown: “For shame, I say, because this critter wants noting more than invoke pleasure!”

Then he shrugged, with a sigh: “But of course you are a little bit right. You should not take it out of it’s cage when you are not in the mood for anything ‘naughty’,” he did mimic the air-quotes, “Because it WILL be hungry. And while it will do what you want it to do, concentrating on what exactly you want it to do can become… difficult. It knows exactly what you need for an interesting, very arousing experience. Even if you are not entirely aware of it yourself. It will also play out fleeting fantasies, however embarrassing”

Once again, a finger got raised: “But again. You are in control. If you actually do not want the critter to continue, it will immediately back off. A strong thought is enough. You should test this a bit before trying it out properly. Oh, and if you realise it was actually rather enjoyable, of course it can resume any and all activities,” he whispered, aside, with an actual wink.

Visibly thinking, rubbing his chin, he played with the lock on his own box, then shrugged: “Right. Ethics. You probably think: Is this thing sentient? Aaaand the answer is: no. The only reason it’s reacting to anything at all is the bit of my… essence inside of it. Curtsy of a feather. It got merged with a lust-beast-‘base’ – you know Frederik - and got stuck a few abilities into it. The spark of ‘life’ is my feather. It only really reacts when I’m close. It’s kind of a really advanced machine. But it has no thoughts. No mind. Ethics are fine! For once

“What else, what else… mmmh… it’s not much to look at. A little formless. It can shift its form, though - can be soft or hard, can become bigger and smaller, lighter and heavier… it doesn’t eat... except, you know, the obvious… But it REALLY isn’t anything to look at, it only does what’s necessary to create stimulation, closing your eyes is your best bet”

“AH! I forgot the best part! You will love this! It cleans up after itself! Before you order it back into its cage, it takes all parts of itself and any mess you might have created into itself and shrink to it’s original miniature size! It’s very nice”

For a few more second, he sat and frowned, then flicked the lid of his box open, leaning back on… a lounge couch, apparently – the camera shifted accordingly.

“Aaaand… that’s it, I suppose! And… it’s been a long time, but… time to demonstrate!”

From the box, a pretty small mass of… blue appeared in the box, wobbly and inert, until Richard touched it.

It started moving towards him.

[artemis-entreri]

"I wonder if Jarlaxle’s hat ever attracts hummingbirds in warm climes? Hmm. #feather hatted hummingdrow" (My revised comment inspired by your writing from today.) For fragile creatures the size of a toe, hummingbirds are impressively willing to buzz a human (or, presumably, an elf). Jarlaxle being swarmed by hummingbirds, or as one himself? Both mental images are haunting me now. Take art inspiration or just run away screaming from either or both of these as you will. *kicks captcha*

“Don’t you have enough magical trinkets already?” The human’s scowl dragged his face down so much that the disapproval in his flinty eyes could’ve spilled right out over his prominent cheekbones. 

“My abbil, there is no such thing as ‘enough’ magical trinkets,” the drow simply laughed and patted his companion on the shoulder with one hand, his other hand already going to the next item on the shelf.  

There they were, in an abandoned wizard’s tower, the mercenary moving about so casually that it was as though he already owned the place. However, each of the flamboyant figure’s steps only served to increase the assassin’s apprehension.

“Remind me again why we are here?” Entreri slapped his companion’s hand away from a desiccated bird skull. 

“I hardly need to, just as you hardly need to ask,” Jarlaxle replied, pointing at his featherless hat. 

The assassin blew out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I can see that your feather is missing. I have accompanied you here to see to its replacement, not to partake in a tour.” Entreri swallowed his next words about the imprudence of ransacking a mage’s abode, for he knew it would just fall upon deaf ears.

“We are already here, it would be profligate to not fully explore the potential opportunities!”

Entreri snorted. “You’re one to talk about profligate.”

Jarlaxle simply smiled and tipped his hat. Entreri sighed and touched a hand to the black and red stitched gauntlet, not for the first time reassuring himself of its presence. 

“Aha!” The drow’s exclamation whirled the startled human about. Widened gray eyes immediately narrowed when they beheld a wand brandished in the ebony fingers.

“That’s not a feather,” the irritated man stated flatly.

“Your powers of observation are as potent as ever I see.”

Entreri resisted the urge to snatch the thin stick from the deceptively delicate obsidian digits. Stiffly, he forced himself to turn toward the ornate stand where the implement had rested.

“Wand of Avian Wonder,” the assassin read, his brow knitted. He glanced to his companion with a raised eyebrow.

Jarlaxle nodded excitedly. 

“This is what we came for? Not a replacement feather?”

“Why settle for one feather, when one could possess many?”

Realization dawned upon Entreri. “That was your plan all along?”

Jarlaxle nodded again.

“Truly, your greed knows no bounds.”

“I prefer to think of it as imagination.”

“You would so delude yourself.”

Jarlaxle simply laughed.

Shaking his head with resignation, the assassin diverted his attention to scanning his surroundings again. Not for the first time, his gaze alighted on each of the countless birds mounted within glass cases that lined the walls. Their unblinking, beady lifeless stares unsettled him.

“I’ve encountered a fair number of wizards,” Entreri mused aloud, “Yet none were quite so eccentric as this one.”

His companion was only half-listening, the drow’s elegant fingers tracing the length of the sleek wand as he turned it over and over. “My informants told me that he wasn’t born of this world. I know not the amount of truth in those tales, but they did speak of a word that is most strange, that the man used to refer to himself.”

Intrigued, Entreri turned and met the only set of eyes that shone with their own light.

“Ah, what was it… it was a word unlike any other that I’d heard before, said to mean ‘one who studies birds’…” The drow’s handsome features crinkled with concentration, his free hand rubbing his smooth chin. 

“Aha! Ornithologist!” Jarlaxle proudly declared with a flourish of the wand.

The assassin’s surprised blink lasted only a fraction of a heartbeat, but in that span of time, his companion, who stood clearly before him before his eyes had closed, was replaced by a… fog? when his eyes opened again. 

Entreri’s first reaction was that someone had drawn Charon’s Claw from his hip and called forth an ash wall, but when his hand went to the blade’s hilt, it found the familiar skull pommel secured in his weapons belt. However, before he even fully internalized this fact, a deafening cacophony of buzzing filled his ears. The assassin fought back the instinct to press his hands against his ears, forcing them to stay at his sides, ready to draw. 

The sight before him was nothing short of chaos, an ever-shifting veil of incessant buzzing, an outline that was more mutable than water. He’s briefly reminded of the swarms of spiders skittering the countless webs decorating Menzoberranzan, and the memory turned his skin to gooseflesh. 

Suddenly, flailing ebony arms poked out from either side of the strange fog, shattering the dark recollection. Further enhancing the now comedic effect were “particles” of the fog tumbling away, trailing with them puttering buzzes. Instinctively, the assassin’s eyes pored over the exposed ebony skin. Upon finding no punctures, scratches, or even so much of a mark, Entreri smiled, and nodded with grim satisfaction. He guessed his companion to be shouting something, but he couldn’t hear over the buzzing. Still, judging by the vigor of Jarlaxle’s flailing, Entreri guessed that the mercenary was, more or less, unharmed.

One of the fog particles landed on the floor and bounced away with a series of soft squeaks. After ascertaining that the Jarlaxle fog ball was still flailing with the appropriate amount of vitality, Entreri cautiously approached the particle, which was now feebly bouncing on the floor, emitting short bursts of buzzes. Although his keen eyes could easily discern the nature of the particle from his standing height, the assassin crouched to get a closer look, for he could scarcely believe what he saw. There, flopping about trying to get airborne again was a tiny, brightly-plumed bird, smaller than his thumb. 

A shift in his immediate surroundings called Entreri’s attention back to the Jarlaxle fog ball. The mercenary’s legs were visible now too, for he’d fallen to his hands and knees, blindly groping after the wand that was rolling away from him. The innumerable tiny brightly-plumed birds continued to swarm around the floundering figure.

Each time that Jarlaxle’s fingertips brushed against the wand, inevitably, one of the hoard of tiny birds would flit in startlement, sending the wand rolling away further. Although Entreri couldn’t hear Jarlaxle’s cries of dismay, he could imagine them well enough. The assassin watched the spectacle with a thin smile, nodding with satisfaction each time that the drow’s latest attempt to seize the wand was yet again foiled by one of the colorful critters. 

When Entreri finally kicked the wand into Jarlaxle’s grasping fingers, it was hardly because he’d grown bored of watching the mercenary receive his just reward. The sun was setting, and an eccentric wizard’s abode was among the least desirable places for him to spend the depth of night. He stepped back, predicting that his companion would call upon the magic of the wand again, and wanting no part in whatever chaos he was certain would ensue. 

The wand didn’t so much as flourish this time, but rather, flailed at the end of the drow’s fingertips. Faintly heard among the still cacophonous buzzing of the bird swarm, Entreri was able to make out the half-word “-thologist” being gasped out by a winded-sounding Jarlaxle. To the assassin’s surprise, no explosion of diatryma, rocs or axe beaks emerged. The horde of hummingbirds didn’t disappear either, but the fog began to disperse, each member simultaneously losing interest in the brightly-colored, sweet-scented “flower” that it’d been enveloping. 

The flock scattered so quickly, in so many different directions, that Entreri had to back away lest he was caught in the feathery pandemonium. Nonetheless, there were enough of them to obscure his vision, and only after many breaths later did he realize that Jarlaxle was not there. 

Entreri’s expression instantly drew grim. One hand thrust into the gauntlet and tore it lose from his side, dagger brandished in the other. Gloom had already began pervading the tower, and the assassin squinted into each dark corner in search of the entity that whisked away Jarlaxle with its foul magic. 

But there was nothing, no eyes met his except for the innumerable pairs of tiny, beady, lifeless ones, and no tingle of magical energy raised the hairs on the back of his neck. There was, in fact, no movement at all, except…

The thin wand rocked back and forth, having been caught in an indentation in the floor. And, next to the wand, was one of the tiny birds.

After one final look around to ascertain the sanctity of his surroundings, the assassin cautiously approached the wand and the bird. The small creature was the same kind as the others, but much more brightly plumed, and, even more curiously, possessed a pair of ruby eyes in lieu of the beady black ones of all the others.

Ruby eyes, Entreri realized with a start. He studied the bright purple of its head, wings and tail, taking in the iridescent quality of the rest of its plumage, which seemed to alternately present all the colors of a rainbow. All the while, the bird didn’t move, didn’t attempt to fly, only staring up at him. It almost looked… contrite?

“Jarlaxle?” Entreri chanced. The tiny bird nodded in a decidedly non-avian way.The assassin breathed a long, drawn-out sigh. He gingerly picked up the wand with his protected hand, and carefully set it back upon the stand from which the drow had lifted it. A buzz from behind him drew his gaze, and he almost felt pity for the transformed mercenary attempting, and spectacularly failing, to lift off.

“I know what you want me to do,” Entreri said, “But I’m not going to do it.”

More indignant buzzing sounded out from behind him.

“I could just leave you here,” the assassin’s tone turned icy, and the buzzing immediately stopped.

Shaking his head, Entreri sheathed his dagger and shed his gauntlet. He crouched before “Jarlaxle”. 

“Have you learned your lesson?”

The transformed drow didn’t nod this time, but remorse filled his ruby eyes. Not enough remorse, Entreri silently noted, for that ruby gaze darted to the wand resting back in its stand.

The assassin sighed helplessly and laid his hand on the floor, palm offered to his companion. “Come, let us be gone.”

Jarlaxle hopped into Entreri’s palm, surprising the man with how little a difference the tiny passenger made, even to his sharpened senses. A curious sensation filled the assassin’s chest, uneasiness coupled with inexplicable heat. Finding himself tensing, the perplexed man cleared his throat.

“Do inform me before you revert so that you don’t break my wrist.”

Entreri felt rather than saw Jarlaxle’s response. Something very thin and very delicate traced a groove in his palm, shooting shivers down his spine. 

“Not like that!” Entreri snapped, only to be rewarded with more involuntary shudders.

Although the assassin was certain he held his palm still despite the tremors of his body, Jarlaxle seemed to know regardless. The little bird did not relent, and between fighting the instinct to close his fist around the offender and resisting the flutters coursing through his body, Entreri was left quite breathless.

“Jarlaxle, I swear, if you do not stop, I will crush you,” Entreri warned, but he doubted that his shaky voice could even intimidate a hummingbird that wasn’t transformed from the most obnoxious of drow.

[[ The word, “ornithologist”, doesn’t actually exist in Common, for the etymology of the word is based in our Latin, rather than their Thorass. There exists across Faerûn as well as other parts of the Realms portals linking Toril to other worlds, including Earth. While an entity needs to be as powerful as Elminster to intentionally use these portals to traverse back and forth between the worlds, to find them purely by chance can happen to pretty much anyone from any of the connected worlds. It’s this facet of FR canon that inspired me to transport a hapless ornithologist from our world to theirs. Since the type of rigorous arcane studies engaged in by wizards is similar to the practices of scientists, I’d always figured that a scientist in our world would probably gravitate towards wizardry, should they find themselves inadvertently stuck in the Realms. As for what happened to the scientist-wizard and why he isn’t there to defend his tower against the interlopers, well, that’s up to your imagination. :P

The “Wand of Avian Wonder” is a modified version of the classic D&D item, Wand of Wonder. The idea is that the ornithologist, in his obsession with birds, modified it so that all of its effects became bird-themed. 

Jarlaxle’s never tiny and helpless. Even when he seems to be, he still manages to discover and exploit one of Artemis’ erogenous zones. >_> ]]

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Rebuilt

For a month or so after the events of "Me vs. You" and "Wager," the members of Team Legends have watched Sara and Snart slowly rebuild their friendship and learn to work together again. Eventually, everyone knows, something will have to give.

(Of course, knowing the Legends, it might take something strange to give them that push.)

Takes place a month or so after "Me vs. You" and "Wager."  (Find the series here.) Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta!

Can also be read here on AO3.

It’s been an interesting month, all right.

But honestly, Mick thinks, it’s been a pretty good one.

No one’s quite sure what’s going on with Sara and Snart—including, perhaps, Sara and Snart. By Mick’s best guess, they haven’t slept together again, but they’re…easier with each other. Frankly, they’re acting much the way they used to, way back in the beginning, after St. Roch and before the Oculus, all circling around each other and card games and eye sex with a side of innuendo. They even got in a bar fight, trying to apprehend a leprechaun who’d completely bought into the stereotype and taken over an Irish pub in Boston.

That was fun. Mick approved.

And when Sara and Snart are actually talking, and working together instead of against each other, they make a damned good team. While Mick knows he and Snart make a good team too, Snart had been right—that dynamic had always been between the brains and the brawn before, and that’s changed a little now. Mick isn’t proud…he knows he’ll always be the brawn…but he’s used to working with others now, Sara and Haircut and Pretty and New Girl and Charlie, and he doesn’t instinctively look to Snart to tell him what to do these days.

And that could have hurt a lot (and would have once, he thinks), but miraculously it doesn’t, especially not now, when the pieces are starting to fit together again, probably better than they ever did before. He and Snart, they’ll always have each other’s backs.

Crew’s just bigger, that’s all.

Even Nate's gotten used to Snart’s presence on the team. Sara had pulled him aside and although Mick doesn’t know what she’d said, the historian was rather more thoughtful after that. And then Snart pulled him out of an ambush by a group of what Constantine called redcaps, which were essentially lawn gnomes with attitude and big honkin’ teeth. Teeth capable of rending metal, which would have gone very badly for Pretty if Snart hadn’t dropped into their midst, laying about with his gun, clearing a path for them both to run for it.

Yeah, since then, even Nate has acknowledged Snart’s place here. Haircut, of course, is still pleased as punch the former thief was back. Zari herself has taken a great liking to Snart, and Charlie, while still dubious, has inexplicably decided that any friend of Mick’s is a friend of hers.

(Mick still can’t figure out why he’s Charlie’s favorite person on board. It pleases him and unnerves him in equal measure. She looks like Amaya, who he’d come to...to care for...but she’s also a badass, fire-breathing shapeshifter. Which is awesome, but...why him?)

Constantine, of course, is being his usual obnoxious self. He’s stopped barging into the cargo bay or wherever Sara and Snart are hanging out, trying to catch them at something, ever since he nearly got one of Sara’s knives through his eye. But he still thinks he deserves that bottle of whiskey, or maybe it’s just an excuse to be a prat (to use his own word).

(Given the man’s tendency to poke at things he really shouldn’t be poking at, Mick honestly wonders how he’s survived so long. One of life’s mysteries.)

And then there’s the Time Bureau.

Gary keeps watching Snart like he’s afraid the other man's going to go full supervillain right before his eyes. (Mick still thinks he peed himself the first time Snart actually spoke to him.) Ava, meanwhile, has accepted their assertions that Snart isn’t what she thought he was—but now she clearly suspects there’s something up between her ex and the newcomer, if Mick’s any judge. And she’s clearly not sure how she feels about that.

That’s fun. “Fun,” in this case, meaning “likely to blow up and be a problem at the worst possible moment.” Mick has decided, however, that it’s not his problem. Not yet, anyway.

At any rate, the balance isn’t perfect, but it works. And who knows how long they could have continued like this, really, if it hadn’t been for the hydras.

“The what?”

Zari’s voice is disbelieving. Mick can’t blame her. In fact, they’re all staring at John Constantine in varying degrees of disbelief, because no matter how many of these mythological whatsits they deal with, it will never stop being weird.

Well. Most of them. Charlie just nods. But then, Charlie is a sort of amazing being herself, and she sometimes seems to forget that she doesn’t have easy access to her dragon form here.

“Isn’t that...some sort of evil organization?” Haircut asks, looking around. “I thought...”

Constantine shrugs. “That sort does like its creature names, but no. Not in this universe, anyway.” He turns away before any of them can continue that line of questioning. “They’re bad enough, let me tell you. Reptilian critters. They have nine heads and, just like the stories say, if you cut off one, two grow back.”

Sara closes her eyes in a “give me strength” sort of expression. The captain is leaning against the holotable, on which Gideon is now projecting an artist’s rendition of a hydra, and Mick can’t say he blames her, either.

“OK,” she says then, opening her eyes. “Where and when is it? I’ll set the course, and then we can start talking about a plan.”

Constantine gives her a wary look. “Well, that’s not all. They’re resistant to magic. In fact, they’re attracted to it.” He steadfastly ignores Sara’s sigh. “And, their blood is poisonous, deadly poisonous. Even if you only get a whiff of it. So, no blades, luv,” he says, pointing at Sara. “Sorry. I do know you love your pointy objects.”

Sara’s even louder sigh is drowned out, though, by Haircut, who’s perked up.

“Fire,” he says, looking over at Mick with a grin. “That’s what Hercules used. In the stories. He did cut the heads off, but then cauterized them with fire.”

Constantine points at him. "Bingo. Whatever removes the head without actual bloodshed. I mean, you need to take precautions just in case, but better if they’re not needed.”

“And ice,” Snart interjected laconically. “Frozen things smash.”

Mick notices him idly rubbing his right wrist as he speaks. Ah, damn. He still can’t believe the bastard did that, smashed his own hand off, whether it was to keep him from killing the Legends or keep the Legends from killing him.

“So where are these things?” he cuts in as the old guilt surges. “I want to burn something.”

Constantine nods to him. “1958 small-town Pennsylvania,” he says, leaning on the table himself as a map appears. “Out in the sticks, fortunately.” He points to a random plot of green on the grid. “We got a breeding pair here in the hills. Need to banish them—or better yet, just dispose of them—before we get a mess of baby hydras. No one wants that.”

Mick thinks later that he should have known at that moment that things were going to go sideways.

They have a good plan when they land just outside Benjamin, Pennsylvania. Even Mick thinks so. Sara had taken the newer capabilities of both his and Snart’s guns into consideration (with much consultation with Snart, a fact no one missed) and, with Constantine’s information on the habits of hydras, concocted a plan of attack that involved luring the pair of hydras out of hiding and into the line of fire.

And since Constantine had come to them, and hydras were both resistant to and attracted to magic, he got to play bait.

“I’m not going to make one of the others do it when you’re so perfectly suited,” Sara had told him mock-innocently when he’d objected. “You can throw a little magic around, draw them out. We’ll protect you.”

Constantine complained and Constantine sulked, but then Constantine did as told. While Charlie stayed by the ship (so no residual aura of dragon could scare off the smaller hydras), the others split into teams of Leonard and Sara, Mick and Zari, and Ray and Nate, one for each hydra and a “utility infielder” sort of pair. Each team has one person who can provide some sort of hydra-vanquishing firepower (or ice power, as it were) and one as, well, a hydra-herder.

Then Constantine saunters out into the field, gives them all a long-suffering look, and throws a fireball into the air.

It’s magical fire, not real, but that’s the idea. As the sparks rain down around him, he folds his arms, turns to face the others, and scowls at them.

And then there’s a hissing noise from the hill behind him.

The creature that emerges isn’t quite as big as they’ve been warned it could be, but it’s big enough. It’s a muddy green color, with four stumpy legs off a body that looks a little like an alarmingly large alligator, and its tail is lashing back and forth with what seems to be ire at its visitors.

And so are the nine sinuous necks that emerge from where the creature’s head would usually be.

“Whoa,” Haircut breathes. Nate’s jaw drops. “Where’s Percy Jackson when you need him?” he yells, looking around as if the fictional demigod is going to appear out of nowhere. (For all Mick knows, he could. No weirder than murderous garden gnomes now, is it?)

(What? He reads.)

Fictional characters aside, though, Mick swears at the sight of the thing. His gun is already primed, but he raises it then, trading glances with Zari and looking over at Sara. The captain is watching the monster calmly. Snart, his own gun primed, is at her side. Then she looks at Mick and nods.

That’s all he needs.

Zari throws her hands in the air and then buffets the creature with a gust of wind, distracting it, while Mick runs for its other side. He raises his gun and aims for the leftmost several heads, firing and grinning as they crisp and the thing howls, other heads whipping his way. But then Zari’s fanning the flames, and Mick ducks to the other side, and Haircut’s firing at one of the heads with his suit’s blasters, and...

Mick hears Constantine yelling and, out of the corner of his eye, sees the other hydra coming. But then he hears the whine of Snart’s gun and Sara’s crisp voice and...they know their business. He has his own, right now.

In the end, it doesn’t take so long, really. There are two dead monsters, with some combination of 18 heads charred, blasted, or frozen and shattered. Mick prods one with a boot, then raises his gun and, at a nod from Sara, sets them on fire. Constantine had said the best way to dispose of them was to burn it all, which should even negate the poison.  They’ve already churned up the dirt so much here that the blaze shouldn’t spread, but he’ll keep an eye on it.

He’s come a long way from the man who wanted to watch the world burn. He doesn’t even want these hills to go up. People live ‘round here.

Constantine wanders over, studying the burning corpses, then turns to peer in the direction the second hydra had come from.

“The female came from a cave over there,” he says, nodding. “ ’Cross the field. If they have a nest, that’s where it would be.” He shrugs. “There might be eggs; there might be babies, though that’s less likely. Either way, cold will do for them.”

Snart rolls his eyes but holsters his gun again and starts that way. Sara falls into step with him. Mick smirks, then looks over at Ray, who’s removed his helmet and part of his suit, tinkering with something. “You OK there, Haircut?”

The other man nods. “Yeah.” He glances up, a little sheepish. “That thing caught me with its tail, sent me sprawling. Going to have to fix the propulsion system.”

“Well, at least you didn’t get chomped.”

“Yeah,” Nate says with a grin, joining them. “I can’t believe it. A plan actually went...according to plan!”

Mick groans. “Don’t say that kinda thing, Pretty!”

“What?”

“You’ve been part of this team long enough to...”

That’s when they hear it.

It sounds like…hissing. Higher pitched than before, but louder, as if it’s coming from more throats, even though it seems farther away. Mick, frowning, turns, and bumps into Constantine, who’s staring at the hill where he’d sent Sara and Snart.

Mick looks too. Then he squints.

Some of the greenery on the hill, it’s...moving?

He realizes what’s going on at the same moment Constantine curses. “It’s a damned nest!” the warlock yells. “And those aren’t babies, they’re half grown!”

“Are you tellin’ me those are teenage hydras?” Mick bellows, drawing his gun again and taking a few steps. But he already knows he can’t make it there in time. None of them are going to be able to get there in time. Especially not with Haircut’s suit on the fritz.

Mick sees Sara and Snart, visible near the faint dark cave opening at the bottom, look at each other, sees them both draw weapons, and then...

Then the swarm is on them, and they’re fighting.

Mick knows that they’ve been training together again. Actually training rather than “training,” too, because the one time Constantine had interrupted them in the training room, he’d gotten an eyeful of no more than two fully clothed people experimenting with how Snart’s new cold gun worked and the best ways of utilizing it in battle.

(And then Sara had gleefully decided that the warlock needed a little more physical conditioning if he was going to run with the Legends. Constantine had limped about complaining for days, gotten off the ship again as soon as humanly possible, and only returned when he needed the Legends to help take care of another myth-turned-real.)

Still, this is the first chance anyone’s had to see what that training might be amounting to.

They’ve backed up to a sheer incline, and Snart’s shooting one critter after another, keeping the heads back, as Sara smashes them as soon as she can. She’s moving in her usual graceful fashion, like it’s a dance, and they’re working together, like they can read each other’s minds, and damn, that’s a pretty picture.

Even though he knew the swarm would descend before they arrived, Mick’s crossed the field anyway, but it’s almost as though stepping in at this point would mess up the dynamic, so he waits, watching, to see if he needs to help. The others skid to a halt near him, all of them staring.

Just in time to see the maneuver that ends the battle.

Mick hears Sara yell something, sees Snart nod, and then sees something pretty amazing. Amazinger. More amazing.

Sara steps back. Snart ducks, going to a knee, but then he slides something on his gun and raises it, pulling the trigger. A spray of blue emits, fanning out a lot farther than the blast of the cold gun usually does, and Snart holds it rock steady--even as Sara steps up, planting a foot on his shoulder, and uses it as a springboard to launch herself forward, into the air….and sweep her bo across as the blue light dies, smashing at least 16 hydra heads into icy shards as she explodes through them, landing neatly on the ground.

Nothing else moves.

Sara lowers her bo. Snart holsters his gun in one smooth motion. And then they look at each other.

Damn.

Zari shakes her head, stepping up on Mick’s left side.

“I feel like I should either applaud or tell them to get a room,” she whispers. “Maybe both?”

Mick doesn’t have words. He just nods.

Constantine wanders up on the other side. Even the unflappable warlock is, well, flapped.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters. “I didn’t even take part in that and I feel like I need a cig.”

They watch as Sara and Snart head their way. They’re both ruffled, but they’re side by side, and Mick doesn’t think it’s his imagination that they’re walking more closely than usual. Sara smirks at them, but Snart manages to maintain his usual cool expression…but Mick, at least, notes a certain gleam in his eye.

Constantine clears his throat.

“I don’t say stuff like this casually, you two,” he says. “But that was...amazing.”

Sara laughs, then, looking around.

“It was, wasn’t it?” she says, a smile tugging at her lips. “C’mon, team. Let’s get home.”

It’s just the aftermath of one mission out of many, but their get-together afterward feels like a victory feast, probably because they all suspect there was no way they should have been able to walk away from a confrontation with nine hydras, even if seven of them were only partly grown. Especially with their mission accomplished and no real casualties.

Constantine had stayed behind to make sure there was no further cleanup work to do. He’ll turn up at some point, Mick knows, probably with his eager buddy from the Time Bureau, and try to drag them into new trouble (probably succeeding) and resolve his wager. Maybe Mick will even try to make the pair in question ‘fess up, just because it seems a bit ridiculous to even pretend there’s nothing going on there.

Even now, right there in the galley, with the whole Waverider team present, there’s tension.

Oh, it’s not a bad tension. Not now. Snart’s leaning back in a chair at the table, balanced in a way that should probably have him crashing to the floor if he wasn’t, well, Snart. He’s not even looking at Blondie, who’s checked her hip against the counter and is talking to Nate, who seems to be blathering on about monsters throughout history, and which ones might be real, and how he wants to write a paper and other such nonsense.

But they’re clearly aware…no, aware…of each other. Even Mick, who knows perfectly well he tends to be oblivious to some things, can see that. Every once in a while, they glance at each other, and…yeah.

Finally, Sara makes a noise of contentment. She glances around the room, and while her eyes don’t particularly land on Snart, Mick’s pretty sure no one misses the smile that touches her lips as her gaze slides past him.

“Well,” she says, stretching. “It’s been fun, celebrating a clear victory for once, but I’m beat. We’ll stay in the timestream for a bit, at least until something else presents itself or John turns up again like a bad penny.”

She pauses, then meets Mick’s eyes. “You have the ship,” she informs him. “OK? For at least a few hours. I need the rest.”

He nods, but Sara barely seems to notice. Turning, she gives Snart a long look. He returns it, expressionless. And then Sara turns and walks away, toward her room.

For a long moment, the galley is quiet and relatively still. Snart takes another sip of his scotch. Ray gives Mick a look that’s frankly a bit distressed. Nate becomes preoccupied by his napkin, and Zari stuffs a miniature éclair in her mouth.

Charlie looks back and forth between them all, confusion on her face. And then, before Mick even realizes what she’s going to do, she speaks up.

“Aren’t you going to go after her?” she asks, looking at Snart. “Because you really should. Even I can see that.”

Nate chokes on a drink, much like he had back when this all started, and Zari closes her eyes. Ray looks like he’d wished he’d said it first. Mick stifles a sigh.

But Snart actually gives Charlie a slight smile. He looks down, considering his drink, then nods, tossing it back before sitting the glass down and climbing to his feet.

“I believe,” he tells her, “that you’re entirely correct.”

And then he smirks at Micks, nods to the others, and saunters after Sara.

The silence lasts a beat or two past when he’s moved out of sight, and then more than one person lets out an explosive sigh. Zari shakes her head and reaches for another eclair, and Ray and Nate exchange glances, smirking.

Charlie cocks her head to the side and then grins at Mick, pleased with her own actions. And Mick, after a moment, gives her a smile in return.

He just really hopes those two don’t fuck this up.

“All right, then,” he says, getting up himself. Time to switch to coffee, if he has the ship. “Anyone want something else to drink?”

[royal-writer]

We made a house a home

I’m falling asleep as I type this but I still love it. I probs won’t tomorrow but that’s for tomorrow to deal with.

With a glance over her shoulder, Essätha huffed as she allowed the blanket to drape over the bed while she murmured, “Already making speculations, are you m’lord?”

There was no concealing the whimsical look in the twinkle of his gaze. His grin was lopsided and playful; quivering at the edges as though he was trying to hide his enjoyment. It stuttered her heartbeat, the regal sharpness of his features and the crinkles of joy around his eyes as he situated the new baby mobile upon the crib. It had been refurbished and looked over now for the third time by Abernathy; stained once more, tested fur durability, and still holding as strong as ever by the way her nobleman leaned over the edge to examine the mattress.

“Isn’t that part of the fun of having children?” he innocently replied, a gruff chuckle of amusement following as he caught her sharp look and the purse of her lips in a poor attempt not to smile.

“You said the last one was going to be a boy,” she reminded him with gentle scolding, tucking the edges of the blanket beneath the mattress.

“Well, this one’s a boy.”

The Lady of the estate had to snicker at her dear sweetheart’s fiery spirit. He might have been wrong about Isabelle’s gender, but she definitely had a tomboy instinct in her habits. Unlike their little Hepsiba’s calm, natural lady-like charm, Belle was a tornado in comparison. She enjoyed digging in the garden every chance she got, rolling in the dirt, showing off worms, and playing with all manners of critters.

She loved them endlessly all the same. Even as she saw the way Isabelle acted, such a proud daddy’s girl. Following him everywhere, pulling his his jerkin for attention, howling as she picked up sticks and pretended to fight anyone she spotted. She never met little Marie, but she wondered if she’d had that same deep connection with Amon. That desire for closeness; that wide-eyed look longing for his praise and affection.

Not that either of their girls had to wait long for it, she pondered while fluffing one of their pillow. He was wrapped around their fingers. Eager to love on his girls, to announce to everyone he saw how brilliant and adorable they were, play with them, sing with them, teach them the ways of the world and protect them.

Replacing the pillow back on the bed, Essie skirted around to the cradle Amon was tinkering with. She curled her arm around his back, leaning in to nuzzle against the neck and lean into his side. He smelled heavily of dog and the outdoors, desperately in need of a bath after a day out preening the garden. It was lovely all the same. The rugged hard lines, the depth of his whiskers grown out thicker and wirier than usual. She pressed her lips against the side of his throat, listening to the crafted chuckling so carefree and beautiful he exhaled in response.

“Are you going to be disappointed if it’s another girl, my love?”

“A ridiculous question my darling; of course not. I love all my beautiful girls equally,” he bragged, turning his head to kiss her forehead gently.

“Mmm. I think I would like a little boy. See if they’re nearly as much as a handful as their father is,” she teased, turning to give his lips a swift peck.

“Oh, I’m the only stubborn one around here, am I?”

His smile was irresistible, and she squealed with laughter as he pulled her close to rub his nose against hers. The gentle pressure of his lips dotted her nose, her cheeks, and her lips over and over again as she squirmed in his arms. Her heart melted, her soul soured, and she threw her arms around him to dig her fingertips into his shoulders. A solid structure; safely harboring her home. The musk of his beard condition close to her face, his gruff laughter in her locks as he nuzzled against her hair.

She kissed the underside of his chin as he wrapped her up, and squeezed her carefully against his torso. The thump of his heartbeat leapt to hers fondly as he swayed them side to side.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in all the world,” the nobleman proclaimed with conviction. “I’m going to love our little one just as much as I do you, Sibby, and Belle, even if they inherit all of our stubbornness and test our patience. They’ll still be perfect. They’ll still be a part of you; the greatest treasure of kindness I have ever known.”

“Husssh your handsssome mouth,” Essätha threatened, grinning wide from ear to ear as she reached up to comb her fingers through his hair. She giggled briefly, tugging him down to brush a light kiss to his mouth.

A quiet groan of disappointment pressed to her lips as he followed her retreat, ghosting another pleadingly pitiful kiss against her.

“You watch yourself, m’lord, or I’m going to be left assuming you want a fourth.”

“Let’s see how much three tire us out before we make any promises, my Lady. Do not be so deceived; if you fear my lips, they have only the best intentions.”

Scoffing, she dropped her hands, gently pressing at his chest to keep him and that devious expression at bay. Her eyebrow rose up at him questioningly, even as his beaming expression only grew more and more goofy and enthusiastic.

The warmth of his hands began to spread; rubbing up and down the length of her back in leisurely strokes. It was a pleasant distraction, causing her to shudder and set aside her squinting stare of assessment to sigh and relax. The gentle rhythm loosening her muscles until she was beginning to grow happily lax.

“Are you feeling up for a stroll into the market today, Essie? I thought we might pick up some more things for the nursery. It’ll be a good opportunity to browse and get out while we still can,” he reminded her. “I’ve been wanting to get some butterfly bush seeds for the garden, anyway.”

Knitting her eyebrows, she poked a finger into his chest. “You’re not planning on sneaking off to get gifts while you’re at it, are you?”

“Me?” Amon huffed, a false disgruntled look on his face.

Oh, yeah. He’d either already gotten something beneath her nose, or most certainly had plans on it.

“You’re going to spoil everyone in this family rotten, until they forget the value of a copper piece.”

“I buy very thoughtful, well-earned gifts,” he countered, sulking a little.

Well, she couldn’t argue that point. The gifts her beloved Lord Amon picked up were always tasteful; carefully chosen to fit the interests of the one he got it for, sometimes requiring months of research and discrete work. The well-earned statement however, was only partly true. He definitely tried to encourage the girls to earn their presents and own funds, but they were still young, easily side-tracked, and he melted like putty around them.

At least for now, Hepsiba and Belle didn’t know how to utilize it to some outrageous advantage.

“You are the sweetest husband and most adoring father,” Essie declared, straining up on her toes to kiss his forehead. “I’ll go get Belle and Hepsiba ready, you finish up with what you’re doing in here, get the coin, and alert the staff.”

“Awfully eager to go for someone who just told me no gifts,” Amon sang, dropping his arms from around her with a grin.

Throwing him an accusing look, she stuck her tongue out and turned her nose up to him before turning swiftly, and marching away. Even as he teased her with a hearty laugh as she left, her cheeks burning all the while and the rich sound of his joy knotting her insides.

Strolling from the bedchambers, the noblewoman made her way from the sitting area through the hall, and to the adjacent bedroom a short few feet down. There was no sign of any of the housemaids on duty up here at the moment. There was however, an awful lot of ruckus coming from the girls shared room.

Humming with concern, Essie knocked on the door, before opening it just a crack. Her light brown eyes darted across the room, apparently unheard by the twosome.

“Belle, give that back!”

“No!”

“But that’s my dolly!”

“No, mine!”

Exhaling deeply, she pushed open the door.

“Girls, girls, stop that- Hepsiba Amelie Illiad, do not pull your sister’s hair.”

With a trembling lower lip, the firstborn daughter suddenly whipped her head in her direction. Tears sat in the corner of her eyes as she sat heavily down upon her rump on the floor, crossing her arms in front of her chest. The ringlets of her curls; much denser than Isabelle’s, fell into her eyes as she blew them aside.

Completely nonplus by the interruption, Isabelle raised the porcelain doll into the air by her arms, making her do a little dance as she tried to sing her ABC’s. To the best of her ability, skipping over and humming letters in an out of tune manner. But she was trying, at the very least.

Careful to tiptoe across the floor which had a scatter of some random toys laying around it, Essätha made her way further into the bedroom and towards the feuding duo. She moved to kneel before the pair, offering a calm and sincere smile.

“Hepsiba honey, you know better than to get physical like that,” she reprimanded quietly. “You need to use your words.”

“But that’s my dolly!” she protested, tears welling up in her eyes. “Aunt Josie and Amelie got it for me! And Belle’s never careful with her toys, she’s going to break it! I already chipped the chin once before I don’t want it worse!”

Desperately, the child reached for her shirt, grabbing a fistful of Essie’s blouse as she went on, “She’ll soil her gown, mommy! She’ll make her dirty and knot the hair! She’ll make Marilyn ugly and broken!”

“Hepsiba, even if Belle were to make Marilyn messy, we can still always clean her up, wash her dress, and rub conditioner in her hair to get out the knots. It’s important to learn to share, or at the very least, not to overreact and assault your sister.”

“Even though Marilyn is very special to you, Belle doesn’t see that or understand that,” Essätha explained. “She’s younger than you. She sees you with your favorite toy, and she wants to be like you, and do what you do and play with what you play with. If asking her to have your dolly back isn’t helping, you don’t resort to hitting or hair-pulling. You need to ask her when she thinks she’ll be done with it, or come ask mommy or daddy for help if you’re really distressed she’s going to hurt your dolly.”

“Sometimes you will need to work it out yourselves. People share things all the time. Daddy and I share responsibilities, books, deserts, and a lot of other things. Offer your toys and time with Belle, consider what you can get in return. Like right now, Belle is interested in your Marilyn, so play with something else or offer to play something that allows you both to play with her. Playing nicely together is a lot better than punching and kicking. And if you want to know a little secret-”

Motioning with her hand, Essie beckoned her eldest forward, whispering to her ear, “Belle is just imitating you, because she idolizes you. If you want Marilyn back, just start playing with another toy like you’re really, really happy. She’ll ask you, or try taking, the new one. Offer to trade it for Marilyn back. That way both of you are happy. Don’t get too mad at your sister, she just wants to be like you. Or distract her with a new game.”

Frowning still, Sibby turned her face down as Essätha wiped at her teary face. She waited patiently until the youngster nodded, raising her head a little to meet her regard.

“Okay, mommy.”

Offering a faint smile, the Yuan-Ti leaned down to kiss her babe’s hairline lightly.

“Why don’t you give it a try, offering something to Belle in return for your dolly?”

The child jerked her head up and down, a look of determination in her eyes. She turned around, the same hue of butterscotch brown scanning the ground. They zeroed in on a boxy princess carriage, which she picked up to scoot beside her sister once more.

“Clip clop clip clop clip clop, hey Belle, you wanna play with the horsie and the wagon right now? We can pretends that um, we’re going for a ride, and we see the white rabbit in the Alice books, and we follow it to Wonderland.”

The younger of the two seemed to consider this proposition for all of a few seconds, before setting down the figure.

“Okay.”

Hepsiba’s face lit up like she’d been told tomorrow was Christmas. She urged the cart forward towards her sister. While Belle was distracted by the squeaky wheels of the small clunky toy, Sibby snatched up Marilyn to set her up on the nearby bed, a look of relief sagging her tiny shoulders.

A fist rapped the door, and Essie glanced back with a smile, the two children following her look.

“Father!” Hepsiba shrieked.

“Daddy!” Isabelle chorused.

The two were fast on their feet, dropping the toy and rushing past Essätha in a hurry. She pressed a hand over her mouth, stifling her giggles as their daughters crashed into Amon’s legs. They clung to him as he shuffled into the room, pretending to be helplessly dragged like shackled weights upon his feet.

“Hello my lovely girls,” he cooed, reaching down to ruffle the tops of each of their heads. The two giggled with childish endearment, ogling up to their father eagerly. When he’d finally made it far enough into the room they released him, giving him the space to crouch down and kiss them both atop their heads.

“Amon my love, would you mind taking Isabelle to get her coat and boots on? The new coat.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit warm for the thick coat?”

She wrinkled her nose, passing him a deadpan look.

“Alright,” he sighed, reaching down to pluck the toddler up off the floor as she giggled and bounced in his arms. “Come ‘ere, you wiggly worm. Let’s bundle you up. Mommy doesn’t think your Briarton blood will keep you very warm.”

“I’m just being cautious,” she accused, huffing.

“I don’t know mommy, you like to put coats on even when it’s hot enough to be all sweaty out,” Sibby defended, giving a sheepish smile.

Essätha offered her a cross look at the lack of support. She giggled with some nervousness at the playfully frosty glance, before shuffling around to head for the wardrobe where her coat would be.

Getting up from the floor, she reached out for Amon’s arm before he could leave the room. He faltered as she touched his forearm, a flicker of a question in his gaze. Before he could voice it however, she pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his face.

His lips curved and upturned. He turned his face, returning the gesture sweetly to the bridge of her nose before carrying Belle out of the room as she jumped against his hip, squeaking with joy the whole time.

It engraved a warm smile on her face. Placing a hand over her heard, she jolted at the gentle tug on her side, staring down at Sibby looking up to her with her coat in hand.

With a swelling pride and joy in her heart, she knelt once more to help bundle the little one up in her layers.

It was simple. Routine. Domestic. A basic and plain life to many.

But she wouldn’t trade this slice of heaven for anything in the world.

[ghostmartyr]

Pokémon Black 2 Randomized Nuzlocke Run [Part 3]

With some interesting carnage leading us through it, the second badge has been earned. Better yet, we got a TM for a Special Poison move, so Caspet can now be a little more secure in her help.

Team as of the moment:

Stella (Poliwhirl)

Caspet (Gastly)

Okay then.

New routes please.

Hey me.

I have been invited to Pokestar Studios. It’s like Hollywood. Roxie’s dad ran off there to be a movie star. Roxie’s now running off there to talk him out of it. We’re going to run off there and have a terrible time with movies.

I don’t know why I remember the movie place. I think there was either some achievement or plot barrier there, and I hated the process but perfectionism insisted on trying again and... idk. Hopefully that distaste won’t be part of this run.

Can I please just be allowed to catch a third party member.

Is there any grass here. Please.

Stop dragging me to movies.

Stop dragging me to terrible movies.

Like there’s clearly some Emotions going on with Roxie’s father, but oh my gosh I do not play these games for becoming a movie star. ;-; Free me. ;-;

I have control of myself again, so I don’t know if I actually have to shoot a movie, but I feel like Roxie and her dad might require me to, and in any case, one won’t hurt too badly. I guess.

Wait, was it a medal thing? Is that why I made myself nuts over this?

Movie shot, script followed, yay, leaving.

Ahoy, plot!

Sequel Team Plasma is so very open about wanting to take over the world. How refreshing. They’ve gone from knights to pirates. Most excellent.

Pop Roxie is back to captaining, so it’s time to run off to Castelia and find another darn teammate.

And our first act of being in Castelia is a clown giving us a bicycle. Rocking.

A boat takes us to Liberty Garden. I think this is where Victini is if Victini is activated, but I’m not sure if that will be the case with this version. The important question is... does it also have other grass.

Fuckdamn it doesn’t.

Yay, entering random buildings in Castelia gave me an Exp. Share.

In keeping with me doing stupid things, I go to the Game Freak building and chat up some of the trainers who are not nearly as strong as they are post-game, thank goodness.

I really.

Really.

Would like.

More than two pokemon in my party.

I also finally gave in and talked to the medal guy in the Pokemon Center.

My achievement hunting tendencies are going to be the largest obstacle between me and any progress ever.

-whispers-

I want all of them.

Other conversations gave me an Eviolite, so that goes to Stella. ...Wait, no, Caspet. Uggggggh.

Burgh is missing from his Gym, which is fine, since I don’t think I’m ready for another round. I’m just walking around trying to check off whatever plot stuff I can that will let me catch something else.

Oh hey, I think talking to Iris opens up the sewers! I think that means I can catch something down there! !!!!

Pleeeeeease give me something.

Please, ominous guise of darkness.

Oh no.

Russell’s partnering with us, so. Uh. What’s the rule for this? I have to catch the first thing I see, but as long as I’m in a duo, I won’t be able to throw a ball very easily...

Fuuuuuuck.

Okay. We took out Panpour.

I have the ability to throw a ball, which means.

This is my catch option for the route.

Haaaa. And Russell’s Dewott is using Fury Cutter. Its damage will keep going up. I think I have two tries to catch it.

Yeehaw.

Try one is a bust.

Oh hey that’s neat! The Dewott used Razor Shell on Stella, because Stella has Water Absorb and had taken damage! That’s smarter than I expected from the partner AI.

And that means I can spare a turn or two trying to put Serperior to sleep. Since Stella still has Hypnosis.

Yo, it hit! And Dewott heals me again!

But. I need Serperior to be more damaged. I shouldn’t risk attacking. ...I’ll just keep throwing balls and wait for Dewott to hurt it a little more.

HECK YEAH WHO’S DA MAN.

Hot damn that was stressful.

Now I gotta give this girl a name.

Sylarana, wanna rock?

Also, now having Russell with me is a good thing, because this squad could use some levels.

What are you like, Syl?

She’s Careful and proud of her power.

Yeah, pride looks good on that sprite.

I don’t know what Serperior’s stats are with a neutral nature. That takes some stress off, since I’ll just go with the flow, but I prefer to know what I’m getting into, usually. Either way, Defense is stronger than Attack, and that’s just fine.

Female Nidoran are down here, too.

This is working out well enough. Yay for buddy healing. I almost don’t want it to ever end. It’s so convenient.

I shouldn’t do this forever, though. That would get boring fast.

My starter breathing. Also cool pirate outfits in Pokemon Go.

Mooks dispatched.

Gym Leader located!

Look at Burgh being all artsy with his tour of the sewers.

Huh, and Russell just hands us Strength. Because all our pals are true bros in this gen.

Then a dude with anime hair walks out of the hole in the wall.

YO NEW ROUTE.

‘ello there.

...I am possibly not going to be able to catch you due to lack of poke balls and you being remarkably stubborn.

Hey, there we go!

What to name you... what to name you... A magnificent sea serpent with a rainbow tail...

Nessy!

Without Russell healing us every fight, we can’t stick around. Back out of the sewers we go, to receive happy words from Iris. Well. Sort of happy words. She worries about Russell and tells us to challenge the Gym.

I, being a compliant sort, walk back into the sewers after healing.

Okay I guess it’s a cave. Sylarana out front, Nessy with Exp. Share while I contemplate what the heck this team does against a Bug Gym.

Ooooh, Forretress.

...

Is. is there anywhere I can go that can pave the way to me getting a Fire pokemon?

You know what, I don’t like things that blow themselves up at me. Guh, this is taking forever. I might need to buy a few Repels just so I can explore the cave properly... I believe there’s grass somewhere past the sewers, and if I could have a slightly more diverse team going into the next whatever, I’d like it.

Oh, and before I forget, Nessy!

She is Quirky and mischievous. She and Stella have half their personalities in common. Delightful. Marvel Scale is also a neat ability to have. Not one I can utilize properly because I’m a competitive failure, but still cool.

Neat, there’s Pidgeot down here.

Looks like there’s not much of the cave to explore at this point in the game. Ah well. Back to the sewers.

Hm. Would the desert north of Castelia be open to me yet? That could prove useful. Heck, is anywhere outside of this city open? I just need a little patch of grass somewhere new.

Bridge still being inspected.

A wild Bianca appears!

Dowsing Machine get!

Hello, this is new.

But there’s still spots of desert.

OH MY GOSH LOOK AT IT.

Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh.

Caught!

Your new name is Itsy, and you are much beloved!

Itsy is Modest and somewhat vain, and ouch that is not a nature I think I like for this little one, but adorableness beats everything, so we’re good.

Butterfree is also in the desert. Oooo Pawniard. Back to the sewers, though. Easier training fodder.

Grass located!

...And if I were a better trainer, I would go back and buy poke balls before exploring, but I have the impulse control of a toddler. Oh, and it’s dark grass vs. light grass...

Decision will be made by rapidly running between the two and seeing what triggers an encounter first.

Dark grass it is!

Aaaaaaaa fuck off.

I love Lapras so much. So so so so so so so so much. But I have two Water pokemon already, as well as an Ice one. I. can’t focus on catching the Lapras. It would be a bad idea.

You have never seen anyone so sad to encounter a Dratini during a Nuzlocke.

The wild Lapras fainted.

Oh fucking hell the Dratini knows Dragon Rage and both my pokemon are under 40 HP. Caspet’s turn on healing Caspet, Sylarana’s turn on getting her out of there.

Okay. Confused and slept.

Now I just. catch it. With four poke balls and two great balls left.

...Three poke balls, and guess who woke up.

Great ball. C’mon great ball.

..One great ball left.

Also if Dratini hurts itself in confusion one more time it is dead.

FORTUNE SMILES ON THE CRIMINALLY STUPID.

Now let’s run everyone back through the sewers and--

Did. did I really hit the no nickname option.

Ffs.

Okay, run back through the sewers, hit the Pokemon Center, and then name the critter. The Name Rater’s somewhere in the city, I think.

Heh. The guy in the alleyway still gives us Flash.

Congratulations, Puff! You are now eligible for activity!

Puff is Quiet and alert to sounds. An adorable addition to our squad. He’s going to be temporarily up front thanks to Dragon Rage. The Game Freak fights are once a day, and it’s been a day, so!

I believe in you, Puff!

Dragon Rage is so op this early. Dreamor agrees. But Puff’s ours, so that makes it okay.

Hm. I have six now. They could keep each other out of trouble.

There are so many areas in these sewers I can’t get to. Or maybe I can, it just involves more maze work than I’m expecting. ...Yeah, it’s looking like that side. Hey, a nurse guy! Yay for less walking up to the Pokemon Center.

Oh, and Poison... might be super effective against Bug? I think the whatsit thing he has is Bug/Grass, so that isn’t actually much of a confirmation. Eh, I’ll find out soon enough.

I’ve found a room full of Zweilous. That’s a safe grinding area, right? Itsy’s got Ice and everything. Vullaby and Dwebble are also here.

Heeeeeey, Caspet’s evolving!

And wants to learn another physical Ghost move.

Bye Lick.

Okay, Gym it is.

...Wow Burgh. Really went full Art on the place, huh? Did trainers complain that you were forcing them to walk through honey before letting them fight you?

Puff’s up first. I don’t have much type advantage here, so it’s just going to be hitting things until they break.

Burgh.

Hey Burgh.

This Gym is creepy.

The cocoons just suck you in and zoom you up. Only think Willy Wonka style.

Mooks have level 20s, so this should be a little uncomfortable for a few of the younger members, but Caspet, Stella, and Sylarana should be fine. For now, Puff’s still in front and Dragon Raging all the things.

And we’re going to the Pokemon Center after every fight, but hey. Baby steps in all things. Puff is on one of the slower exp tracks, so every little bit helps.

...Burgh. Buddy.

You want to talk?

This Gym feels like a cry for help.

In true shounen protagonist style, I will settle your troubled emotions through battle! Even if none of the dialogue will admit to how concerning the aesthetics of your chosen arena are!

Everything is hitting critical hits.

...Oh wait, I’m supposed to narrate these fights, aren’t I?

Uh. Swadloon down, Dwebble down, Leavanny left, Leavanny’s level 24. Caspet’s out to deal with it after Puff handled Swadloon and Nessy handled Dwebble.

Caspet one-shots it like a champ, and on we go.

Burgh, this trinket in no way makes me less concerned for you.

Still, though! Everyone’s alive, and we have a team full of six! Nice work, ladies and Puff. Five more badges to go! Let’s hope they go well!

[tumblunni]

Man the manga makes it look so fun to be a Nobody!

I really marvel at how they captured the uncanny nature of the enemy Nobodies?? Cos seriously the whole point of them is that they look humanoid but move in really inhuman ways. And each individual enemy type has its own unique mannerisms for this, but in general its like..slugs? I'm pretty sure its slugs?? They stretch and squish and wiggle around and its like pretty much EXACTLY how medicinal leeches move, but thats a very underrated animal so its probably more likely it was slugs or worms. Like 'hey lets exaggerate slugs' but BELIEVE IT OR NOT THAT FATEFUL WIGGLIER SLUG DOES TRULY EXIST. And i love their cutie patoot lil faces. And the world needs to appreciate them more!

...ok im getting offtopic but you get the gist of what i mean. The basic Dusk enemies are vaguely humanoid things with their arms and legs tapering off into sticklike points, and they either wiggle them around like leech heads or hold their arms behind them naruto run style and use their entire body as a leech! Like its more likely that they pick up stuff by wrapping around it like a snake, rather than just using hands?? And also they can fly and stick to ceilings and just generally have loads of fun?? And look really pretty?? And some of the other more complex nobodies look even cooler doing their weird wiggle flying. Like the Assassin type have these weird big metal petal shapes on their arms that flutter like feathers and make them look like winged snakes crossed with.. Kites...? Kites made of kimonos? Being worn by a man with no face..?

SERIOUSLY WHO DESIGNED THESE FUNKY THINGS THEYRE SO UNIQUELY GENIUS

And aaa the Days manga has a REALLY good panel showing a big swarm of them in flight and it just looks SO MAGICAL AND SPOOKY! this is the exact kind of Aesthetically Nutso Ghost Monster Person i wish i could be! The manga is so cool at iimplying the same sense of inhuman motion by drawing them like motion tweens? Like theyre warped into wildly different body shapes in every panel and its just SO CREEPY and SO BADASS and SOMETIMES KINDA MAJESTIC AND ENDEARING EVEN! And this big flight scene has EVERY SINGLE INDIVIDUAL ONE drawn with its own different pose and mannerisms and like man every one of these weird squiggle flights looks like a world of fun to do!! God i love when superpowers actually look FUN, yo! It fuckin sucks that theyre just low level enemies and not ever playable. The only Nobodies that are playable or even get a big amount of screentime in cutscenes are the ones that ACTUALLY look humanoid and also move humanoid and BOOOO have zero traits of the monster theyre supposed to be. Like man just give me a whole game playing a lil bebby Nobody flying around! They remind me of the wanderers in Journey, they'd be so well suited to a chilled out exploration game like that.

And AAAAAA i get so sad thinking about how they're like bebbys!!! Noooo! Why do we not have more sympathy for them?? Like the particular way they write their 'bumbling weak enemy' scenes just comes off more like..well..sad thoughts about what happens when you lose your heart. Cos i mean the series really doesnt dwell much on the implications of the fact every single one of them used to be human! And whenever they're not being given orders by the higher ups in the organization, theyre just shown wiggling around flying in circles for fun, like a shoal of fish. They're so inhuman now, aside from vague resembelance in their appearances. They'd be seen as the cute wpodland critters in a disney princess musical number if they werent designated as monsters! Like they're not just 'dumb', they friggin dont remember how to talk anymore. And in their most memorable scene they dont understand the order "find this person" and can be easily tricked by photos of him. "Yes boss here is roxas he's a little more flatter than usual but here he is!" And they just keep gathering hundreds of the same person and never once cotton on to anything being wrong. Its so cute and also scary?? Cos seriously they are such eldritch monstrosities of fragmented soul that they move on to STEALING THE WORD PHOTOGRAPH. Just plucking it right out of the language! Failing so hard that you warp the laws of reality! I feel sorry for the poor lil guys, you definately cant say they didnt try as hard as possible!

AND SERIOUSLY THATS ALSO A COMMON TRAIT IN THE MANGA

I'm just so happy that they gave a bit more sympathy to the low level enemies because seriously WHO GIVES SUCH A GOOD DESIGN TO A LOW LEVEL ENEMY AND THEN BARELY EVER USES THEM FOR ANY SCENES

They actually give some sorts of pseudo dialogue to them?? Like during the kh2 prologue they show roxas being able to psychically perceive their thoughts while theyre trying to kidnap him. And its just so sympathetic and sad in retrospect?? They did a great job amplifying everything about this sequence because they made the Nobodies look so much scarier, made Roxas's life with his friends look even more heartwarming, and made it all super tense so you overlook all these little hints and just cheer for roxas in defeating these guys. But they left so many things that actually foreshadow that Roxas is a Nobody too, so reading this a second time is so sadddddd. I almost wish this was the first time i experienced the story, i think it does basically everything better than the original game version. Like seriously THAT ONE LINE OF WHAT THE WEAK ENEMIES ARE THINKING! "We've found you, my leige". THEY WERE JUST TRYING TO SAVE THEIR BOSS AND DIDNT KNOW WHY HE DIDNT RECOGNISE THEM. AND THEN HE ATTACKS THEM AND THEY DONT KNOW WHY!! aaa theyre just BABIES god theyre just ghost demon thingies that are like the larval stage compared to the main character versions. They dont remember who they were as humans, they just know they love their boss!! and he's apparantly been kidnapped by scary humans!! THEY WERE TRYING SO HARD TO SAVE HIM!! they got so damn close to taking over the town and they were swarming everywhere searching for him and Axel was trying so hard too and Diz just kept interrupting him before he cpuld explain or lying to roxas to manipulate them against each other! And axel even brought cake and icecream with him!! He was just trying to rescue his lil bro!!! Auuuugh seriously it was such a good twist that the Scary Monster Dudes were objectively in the right throughout this entire intro, and they just wanted to save Roxas's goddamn life. And he didnt even get to remember his peaceful days as a family with his fellow monster boyos until like five seconds before dying :(

Did anyone else just.. Not want to play kingdom hearts 2 after the prologue?

Like i couldnt stand the mood whiplash of going back to happy go lucky disney worlds with sora and having no more deep sad intriguing plot points for like ten hours of gameplay. And i could never take Organization 13 seriously as villains when the entire damn prologue was them being SUPER FUCKING SYMPATHETIC and the 'good guy' trying to murder a child in order to bring sora back. Like why am i supposed to be happy that he succeeded when i know sora himself would say no if he was told what sacrifice had to happen to bring him back? I would have been way more interested in this sequel having me play as roxas and try and take on the legacy of sora as the next hero and try and find a way to bring sora back without anyone having to die. Like the whole story could be people being all 'blah blah youre worthless youre not human your only purpose is to die for the sacrifice' and we explore all different sorts of 'heroes' doing horrible acts and justifying it to themselves because some people are just 'born evil' and its okay to do whatever you want to them. And Roxas is always struggling with almost believing that shit about himself, but in the end he does succeed to find a happy ending for everyone without a need for 'sacrifices'. And he learns to have self confidence and form his own identity and have more friendship scenes with Axel and co and also redeem all the other Nobodies please and also hug the tiny enemy childrens ones. I just did not feel much for the plot of kh2 at all except for the Nobodies!! Its just not sympathetic to have your 'heroes' arguing that 'oh they dont have hearts theyre not human they dont feel anything so theyre all evil and its all fine'. The game acts like this is true despite giving sympathetic backstories to half of them and the other half all die crying that they want to live!! What the fuck!! Like the only consolation is that they clearly cottoned on to the Org being RIDICULOUSLY POPULAR and later games literally bring all the most fan-loved ones back from the dead and add EVEN MORE sympathetic backstories and also here have a bigger villain who was really responsible and also he lied to them and theyre NOT really empty hearted and incapable of love. THEY ARE CONSTANTLY SHOWN HAVING THAT, EVEN THE WEAK LIL ENEMY DUDES HAVE ALL THAT LOYALTY TO ROXAS AAAAGH THEY DIED IN DROVES TRYING IN VAIN TO SAVE HIMMMMM

And god theyre so cute and so well designed and so sad and im sorry but AGGHHHH

I Forgot I Had So Many Emotions For The Emotionless Bebs :(

...also i really wish i cpuld get this pic of thos one panel to upload cos it looks real cool. I didnt think anything could make me love them more!!! Theyte just innocent weird snake bird worm person mannequin origami things. They just want to flutter around like messed up butterflies! And adorably poke at things they're curious about, and hold brooms awkwardly with their squiggle hands! The manga shows them doing lil chores around the house!! I LOVE THEMMMMMMM

[slashtrashqueen]

NOTE

the following text is directly copied and pasted from the article for my own reference convenience and I in no way claim authorship over anything written here

If I’m in your car, and we’re not in a hurry, chances are that at some point, I’m going to ask you to pull over so that I can solemnly poke a stick at a dead thing along the side of the road. If we’re in my car—which is usually equipped with nitrile gloves, hand sanitizer, and garbage bags—and the decedent is more structurally sound than a fetid fur pancake, you might want to brace for a smell or two.

I’m into roadkill. I get messages late at night about a beautiful fox in good condition by the side of a highway, and in the morning curse Morpheus himself that I slept through the precious window between warm death and Pollockian spatter. I once left a fat, pristine squirrel carcass on a tree stump next to my then-boyfriend’s car as a gift, like a lovesick cat; he later married me. My friends gave me a bird carcass in a cooler for my birthday.

Dead animals are my shit.

My interests in the subject span more than just a pathological curiosity about the macabre reality of mortality and a steadfast appreciation for the slippery mechanics of life: no, dear reader, I am also into crafting. And what better way to memorialize the fair critters who meet their untimely ends during some shitlord’s 2 a.m. taco run than to turn their dick bones into brooches?

(Don’t answer that.)

Maybe you’re into dead stuff, maybe you aren’t. But if you’ve ever marveled at a pelt, or browsed bone jewelry on Etsy, or wondered what the fuck a rotten squirrel smells like, then I am here for you. Welcome to DIY Death Crafts. Please wash your hands.

First off, a word on the legality of scooping broke-neck Bambi off the interstate. There are states where this is not, per se, legal. State wildlife and game commissions work to regulate who can hunt what and when, requiring licenses to take down specific animals during specific seasons using specific methods. For example, in North Carolina, where I live, hunting feral hogs on game lands is prohibited from one half-hour after sunset to one half-hour before sunrise, unless you have a special permit. Oh, and public nudity on game lands here is prohibited, so no shirtcocking during your pursuit of pork.

I’m allowed to pick up dead animals—North Carolina is pretty friendly to crafty Southerners with a penchant for road steak and possum stew—but other states have concerns that if Billy can’t shoot a feral hog wherever he wants, he’ll just hit it with his car and take it home anyway, or at least tell you that’s what he did if and when some poor government employee comes to scope out his freezer to check that those kilos of sausage had the appropriate papers. So, if you’d like to stay legal, before you grab that non-federally endangered, catastrophically brain-injured animal off I-95, double-check to see if you’re technically allowed to do so.

There’s also the question of safety.

When picking up dead things, it’s best to a) be prepared, and b) assume it’s infectious as shit with something terrible. Rabies is essentially 100 percent fatal, and wild animals are often heavily parasitized with nasty little bugs, so don’t tongue-fuck roadkill corpses or let your dog hump them or anything. I’m not about causing harm with this DIY, so please be aware of the legal and physical dangers, and play at your own risk. Also, if I find out that you hit an animal with your car on purpose for crafting, I will absolutely punch you in the throat should we meet.

That said, now that you are aware of the danger and legality of your actions, let us begin.

The author, in her element

Selecting Your Buddy

Obviously, what you are able to do with your ode to the destructiveness of humanity depends on the quality of the body that you find. The best case scenario is a warm, fresh death, still soft without rigor, preferably dead of brain injury and relatively intact. These are also, as you might assume, pretty damn rare. Fresh is preferred, as it’s easier to skin a warm animal: you can peel ’em like a banana.

However, if you’re scouting for bone crafts, which is what I’m covering today, it doesn’t matter so much. (Word of caution: if you are maggot-averse, you might want to err on the fresher side, but don’t freak out too much, as a lot of roadkill gets pancaked or eaten before the fly babies hatch.)

Find a carcass with some intact bones—preferably not too stinky, if that’s the kind of thing that bothers you—and if it looks like it was pretty healthy, recently deceased, and merely unlucky, you can proceed to step two. Also, if the smell is really bad—like, for instance, dead squirrels fucking STINK—a little Tiger’s Balm under the nostrils can make the drive home more pleasant.

Transportation

Here is where I like to cosplay CDC detective and get real serious about my safe-specimen-collection protocol.

Nah, just kidding, I use a trash bag and gloves. First, I use my gloved hands to examine the animal, because I don’t want a surfeit of weird raccoon fleas in my ancient Subaru, and also because I am curious to a fault and like to get up close with my new friend before I bring her home.

If the animal is small, I’ll just put it in the trash bag using my gloves. If it’s larger or awkwardly positioned in rigor mortis, I’ll take my gloves off, stick my arms into a garbage bag, grab the roadkill, then inside-out the bag around the corpse the way people pick up dogshit off the sidewalk.

Then just tie the bag off and go home. Please don’t forget there is a dead animal in your trunk. Learn from my mistakes.

Clean The Body

There are lots of ways to do get the bones out of your roadkill buddy. Personally, I use my dissection skills from college to skin the animal, remove the viscera with minimal damage to all the stinky guts, then strip most of the muscles from the bone is a fairly haphazard fashion. Alternatively, you can also just bury the body in a bucket full of dirt, preferably in warm weather and damp soil, and check on it on a few months, if it’s small. (Bonus points if you can bury it near an ant hill, which will expedite the process.)

For skinning, run your knife crotch to chin, trying not to pop the peritoneal sac full of viscera. Then, with gloves on, run your fingers between skin and muscle and just rip the two apart. From here, pull out the guts, hack off the muscle, and get ready to macerate. This isn’t precious work—there’s no one way to do it if you’re just wanting bones—so my suggestion is to watch some YouTube tutorials and fucking try it.

Macerate That Shit

Once you have mostly bone, put the bones in a bucket of water or a glass jar, close it—but not too tightly, as a lack of oxygen will slow down the process—put it in the sun, and leave it. This is called maceration, which is a sped-up rotting process whereby the bones are cleaned by bacteria. One handy tip, which works well for small carcasses but can be scaled up as needed, is to stuff the bones into some pantyhose for easy retrieval. I mean, unless you want to fish though the soup of liquified death for vertebrae. Your call.

After two days, change the water. You don’t have to change all of it, just dump out some of it and replace it, being careful not to use water that is too hot, as it will kill the bacteria that you are relying on to eat the body. As you do this, remember to enjoy the horrible smell that will happen! I love this part, probably because it makes people throw up. When you change the water, try to remove as much meat and fat and gross shit as possible; you want the bacteria eating food off the bones, not the greasy remains left in the death stew. Check again after another couple of days, and keep scooping shit out and replacing some of the water until the bones are clean. Could be as quickly as five days or so, and it probably won’t take more than two weeks for larger animals.

If the process seems to have halted, put the bones in a stock pot, simmer for about an hour, careful not to boil them, then restart the maceration process. This is a pretty hardcore step, as it’s gross and smells bad and you have to do it in your kitchen. But I figure you should know that the option is there.

Once the bones are clean, remove them and dry them carefully. Don’t dry them in the sun or the oven, as this can cause cracking.

Degrease and Bleach

For extra-pretty bones, degrease and bleach that shit. There are several ways to degrease, but my preferred lazy-girl way is soap and water. Stick the bones in a container of hot water and healthy amount of dish soap, and leave ’em for at least a week. There will be gross shit floating on top of the bone-soup when you are finished. Do not eat it.

Once the bones are clean, bleach ’em in a 4-percent hydrogen peroxide solution by soaking them for a day or two or three, whatever you need to get the visuals you like. Very important: the bleaching container should not be airtight, or it could explode! Chemistry, man. You can keep doing the bleaching step until the solution no longer foams when it comes into contact with the bones, usually about two or three times. Once they are nice and pale and clean, dry those babies on paper towels and get ready to get weird.

Annie Get Your Glue Gun

Congratulations, you have a pile of bones! Now get out there, crank up that glue gun, and tap that creativity like a maple tree. A few ideas for newcomers include gluing plastic gemstones all over a skull like some kind of fucked up death BeDazzler, making brooches from the bones that look the coolest and pretending you know which ones they are, gluing the bones together in an intractable mess that would make David Cronenberg weep, and—my personal favorite—leaving the whole jumbled disaster in a pile on your kitchen table and calling it art.

Death comes for us all, my friends; might as well make it beautiful.

Leigh Cowart is a freelance journalist covering sports, science, and sex. Her work has appeared in Vice, The Classical, and NSFWCORP, among other places. Follow her on Twitter @voraciousbrain. Not for the faint of heart.

Adequate Man is Deadspin’s self-improvement blog, dedicated to making you just good enough at everything. Suggestions for future topics are welcome below.

[depizan]

Anyway, before I got distracted by Gault and his weird plans and legion of enemies, I was trying to work out ficverse version of Smuggler Nar Shaddaa.

Canon has the Smuggler arrive on Nar Shaddaa to trade a rare critter for an experimental starship engine, only to find that Drooga is no longer interested because someone stole his other rare critter. That group, despite being perfectly capable of successfully stealing from a Hutt, has now grasped the Idiot Ball with both hands and one of them has been captured by an evil mad scientist. But the Smuggler manages to get both critters, deal with the mad scientist, and get Drooga to keep his original deal. Meanwhile, Corso has decided to spend the chapter being a speciesist dickbag. And there’s a whole sideplot with Drooga having gotten Bowdaar from a gambler (I have so many questions. So many.) but finds him unsatisfying and, after trying to kill him a couple of times just kind of gives him to the Smuggler.

Problems: 

1. Drooga, as presented in game, seems to be entirely interested in eating things and being entertained. Why does he even have a prototype engine? Did he get that from a gambler, too?

2. You keep fucking up Drooga’s assorted Bowdaar related entertainment, yet this inexplicably does not get you a date with entertaining things with lots of teeth. Or even just tossed off the side of his pleasure barge. Hell, you keep insulting Drooga. To his face. Is Drooga supposed to be the most mellow Hutt ever?

3. I have some issues with Corso’s writing, over all, but nowhere else is he written as this much of an ass. He thinks Bowdaar’s a monster, complains that he smells, and is clearly really unhappy that you let him come with you. He calls Drooga’s majordomo a “blue headed fella” as if he’s never seen a Twi’lek before and bitches about the guy’s accent - saying that he’d call him by name if he just talked right. (?!) He just, out of nowhere, suddenly acts like that relative you hope everyone forgot to invite to the family reunion. Why, writer? WHYYYYYY?

4. The animal rights group people are just painfully dim. Even without getting into the incredible foolishness of accepting help from a scientist who’s been locked up by the Empire for going too far. The Empire. (Yes, okay, they could think he was locked up for not going far enough, but it just comes off like they didn’t stop to think for a nanosecond that maybe they should do a little research before trusting this guy.)

5. How’d the scientist even know about the animal rights group? How does he have hordes of dangerous beasties? How is he doing experiments? Does Shadow Town control anything? The fuck kind of prison is this!? (Granted, my serious questions about Shadow Town are not limited to this story line.)

6. I’m not real thrilled with how the game is comfortable treating the abuse of Bowdaar as just this kind of unimportant side plot. It’s as if the Smuggler would’ve just walked away if Drooga hadn’t randomly freed him.

Lastly (Or fic-specifically): There is no way that Jezari would look at this mess and not go “Screw this, lets just steal the damn thing.” Yes, pissing off Hutts is bad, but Drooga’s a grade A dickbag who changes his mind every five seconds about whether he’s even going to go through with the trade and keeps sicking dangerous animals on an abused Wookiee. Besides, he’s not interested in experimental engines. If you leave the box, it might be years before he’d notice it’s missing.

Honestly, for all that Risha’s about deal making, it’s hard for me to imagine her going to so much trouble to acquire something on the hopes that someone as changeable as Drooga will deal for it. It feels like there’s an at least 50% chance that he’d have changed his mind even if the other critter hadn’t been stolen. And, seriously, this guy has such bad security that a couple of socialites could burgle his animal pens. (Yeah, yeah, they had hired help. Who they probably hired from the scum in the first bar they saw on Nar Shaddaa. You can’t tell me they put more effort into that than into checking on mad scientist guy.)

No, this clearly should’ve been a heist. Go in for the engine, come out with the engine and a Wookiee. I’m pretty sure the SW:TOR Encyclopedia lists heists among Risha’s previous crimes. Sure, engines aren’t something you can stick in your pocket and walk off with, but that just means its the kind of heist than involves the repulsorcraft equivalent of a cargo van.

I buy Risha and Jezari sneaking a engine (and a Wookiee) off Drooga’s ever wandering pleasure barge way before I buy a couple of socialites sneaking a huge toothy beast off of it. 

There’s got to be a near constant stream of cargo fliers coming and going from the barge to supply the endless eating, drinking, and general Huttish merriment. Slip in like one of the deliveries, slip out with the goods. Or intercept one of the deliveries and actually make the delivery, and slip out with the goods. Or get on the barge as a guest, burgle the treasury, collect Bowdaar, and sneak out in a delivery speeder. Or steal one.

No need for dim socialites or mad scientists too twisted for the Empire. Just a simple theft. Hell, Bowdaar could’ve pretty much saved himself and just jump in or on the delivery speeder as its leaving. Or about to leave. Or whatever. He’s supposed to be this great fighter and all. You’d think he’d try to escape.

(But then the game can’t really be bothered to work out Bowdaar’s personality or anything. It’s not like he needs to be more than an unbeatable gladiator slave who’s happy you rescued him or anything. *pokes the writers with a stick*)

Oh! They could be making a clean get away with the “delivery” speeder and Jezari sees this Wookiee climbing on the outside of the barge with guards after him, and she swings around so he can jump on while Risha’s facepalming in the passenger seat.

One slight shoot out and ride to the spaceport later and Bowdaar’s signed on as crew and Risha’s mentally adjusting all future plans to take into account the fact that Jezari just cannot mind her own business.

Yeah, I like that. Risha’s got a nice simple plan to get the engine and keep Drooga from ever working out who stole it, or even when it was stolen, and then right at the end, just as they’ve got it pulled off, Jezari goes and interferes in someone else’s escape and now Drooga knows they stole a Wookiee and a prototype engine and damn it they did not need yet another bounty on their heads. A galaxy full of smugglers and Skavak picked Captain I Never Turn Down a Person in Trouble to steal from!

Not sure if I’ll fic it or not, but that works nicely. It keeps Risha as clever, is in character for Jezari, and even lets Bowdaar save himself (mostly) while still giving him a reason to sign on to the crew. And, of course, Corso isn’t weirdly speciesist at (or about) anyone, which makes it perfectly reasonable that he and Bowdaar go on to be the stuff wrecking team as needed for the crew. (And if he needed to learn Shyriiwook because they don’t teach it on Ord Mantel, that just means he can dust off the tapes or whatever Jezari got him and give them to Kyrian later.)

Headcanon solidified.

(And poor Risha and Savler can go drinking together sometime and commiserate over Jezari’s inconvenient quirks.)